#I agree with the story beats but the framing was off

[pamwritessometimes]

What he doesn’t know

Sam Winchester x witch!reader

Summary: You’re hiding two dangerous secrets from Sam. Little did you know, he’s just uncovered one, but it’s not the one you think.

Warnings: none?

The night was heavy, the air thick with anticipation. You sat at the edge of the motel bed, fingers nervously twisting an emerald green ring on your hand. It had been months now, months of this dance with Sam Winchester.

You met him and his older brother while they tried to take down a vengeful spirit in the library you were working at the time. Once they found out you were more than aware of the supernatural—what’s more, a hunter of evil yourself— they decided to invite you to join them on occasional hunts. What they didn’t know was that you weren’t just a regular hunter, but something else…something they and you should be hunting.

It was over a week ago when Sam called you for help on a certain ghoul hunt. When you arrived at the motel you agreed to meeting at, you were surprised to see the classic Impala of the Winchester’s nowhere in sight. It was unusual. You had went on numerous hunting trips with the boys; the Impala, Dean’s Baby was always a pivotal part of the journey. When you knocked on the door of the room Sam said he’d rented, you were surprised to see Sam, and Sam only, in the room. Turns out Dean ditched this one time.

Doing a hunt with Sam was hard. The stolen glances, the lingering touches. It was driving you insane, not knowing what he thought, not knowing how long your secret could stay hidden. You weren’t just another hunter passing through his life. You were a witch. A born-hunter, but life played the cruelest joke on you possible. It was a secret you’d kept buried since the moment you met him. It was a dangerous game, falling for someone who, by all rights, would probably see you as the enemy if he ever found out. But you couldn’t help it. Sam was different; kind, strong, thoughtful in a way that made your chest tighten every time he was near.

Tonight, though, something felt off. The hunt was over and you two decided to stay just one more night to take a well-deserved rest. He had been watching you all day, his brow furrowed like he was trying to piece something together. Every time you caught his eye, your stomach twisted with dread. What if he knew?

You heard the door creak open, and Sam stepped inside, his tall frame filling the room. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there, eyes locked on you like he could see right through your skin.

“Sam” you started, your voice unsteady. He seemed so tense and so confused, you wondered what could’ve Dean told him when he went out to inform him about the success of the ghoul story. “Is something wrong?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he crossed the room slowly, his boots thudding softly against the hardwood floor until he was standing right in front of you. His gaze was piercing and unreadable, which made your heart race in your chest. “You’ve been acting different lately.”

Your pulse quickened. You tried to keep your expression calm, but panic clawed at you. Had he found out? Had he somehow figured out the magic that simmered just beneath the surface?

“I—” You struggled for words, anything that might explain away the tension between you. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Sam’s jaw clenched, and he took a step closer, so close now you could feel the warmth radiating off him. His voice dropped to a low, husky murmur. “You’re hiding something from me.”

Your breath hitched as the panic bubbled up. This was it. He knew. Somehow he must have figured it out. And there was no going back. “Sam, I…”

But he didn’t let you finish. His hand came up, his fingers brushing gently against your red cheek and the touch made your heart skip a beat. His eyes were softer now, but still filled with that intensity that always left you breathless.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. There was something raw in his tone, something that made you ache.

You blinked, your mind racing a million miles per hour. Did he already know? Was he waiting for you to confess? You swallowed hard, trying to hold back the fear. “I… I didn’t know how.”

His eyes searched yours like he was trying to read your soul. “You didn’t have to be scared” he said softly, his thumb now tracing the line of your jaw.

Your chest tightened painfully. He was still touching you, still standing so close, and it made your head spin. His presence always had this effect on you. But why was he being so gentle? Why wasn’t he angry? “Sam, I—”

“I already know” he said, cutting you off again, his eyes locked on yours.

Your heart plummeted. He knew. How long had he known? Weeks? Months? And he still stood here, looking at you like—

Wait. He wasn’t looking at you with anger or betrayal. He was looking at you with something else entirely. Something… softer.

Your stomach flipped. “You know?”

Sam nodded, his hand still cupping your cheek, thumb brushing lightly across your skin. “Dean told me.”

You blinked, confusion clouding your thoughts. “Wait… what are we talking about?” you asked. You are certain you would remember if you had told Dean that you were a witch. But you kept this secret from everyone around you, especially the Winchesters.

Now it was Sam’s turn to look confused. “You’re in love with me, right?” he asked sheepishly, now contemplating whether Dean fucked him up or not.

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. Your mouth fell open slightly as the realization hit you. He didn’t know you were a witch. He thought you were hiding something else entirely.

“I—what?” You asked, your mind desperately trying to keep up. And then you remembered. It all came back in a blur. Sam, Dean and you were celebrating a successful hunt a couple of weeks ago at a rundown bar. You decided to clear the rum supply as a celebratory activity and in a blurry, dizzy moment of yours you managed to spill your feelings towards Sam to Dean. That bastard. He set up you two to come and do this hunt alone. It all was his genius idea.

Sam pulled back slightly, a cautious, almost embarrassed smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I mean, I wasn’t sure at first… but you’ve been acting so different. And Dean told me that you— I thought maybe you were avoiding me because of… you know, how you feel.” he stammered, mentally contemplating how to murder Dean for making him look like a fool in front of you.

You stared at him, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. He thought the secret you were hiding was your feelings for him. The irony of it almost made you laugh. But instead, you just stood there, frozen, unsure of what to say.

“I—Sam, it’s not…” You started, but your voice faltered under the weight of his hopeful gaze. There was hope in his eyes to which you couldn’t say no to.

He took a deep breath and he stepped closer again, his hand slipping from your cheek to rest gently, almost hesitantly on your waist. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way” he said softly, though you could hear the disappointment in his voice,“I just… I needed you to know that I—”

Your mind was spinning, torn between the truth you had been hiding and the one Sam thought he had discovered. You opened your mouth to tell him the truth—the other truth—but the words wouldn’t come. You weren’t ready.

You let out a shaky breath. “Sam…” you said and cut him off.

His eyes flickered with hope again, and this time, you didn’t stop yourself. You reached up, cupping his face in your hands, and pressed your lips to his in a kiss that was soft at first, hesitant. But the moment Sam responded, pulling you closer, it deepened, and all the tension, all the fear melted away. Momentarily, though.

When you finally pulled back, your forehead rested against his and both of you were breathing hard. You felt his hand tighten gently around your waist, keeping you close.

“You do feel the same” he murmured, a genuine smile almost audible in his voice as he spoke.

You nodded, closing your eyes, not ready to speak the whole truth just yet. For now, it didn’t matter. For now, the only truth that mattered was the one that made your heart grow fonder.

Thanks for reading. 🤍

Sorry for any mistakes, English isn’t my first language.

[nemo-me-impune]

Listening to Larry talk about Friends explains why they ended it the way they did but I do think the issue that's occurred is that the reason Friends ended the way it did is because Friends was about people who were inevitably going to get older and get married and have kids and that was always the stated goal

Whereas the whole point of Ghosts is they can't change. They never will change. There is no progression for any of them, including Alison and Mike.

I think it speaks to the class thing I was thinking about before (it's almost impossible to stop being poor after all) but also the difference between the 90 and the 2020s is that none of us are able to progress the way we were told we were supposed to. We can't afford to get married, we can't afford to have children, we can't afford to buy a house and move out of the city.

And Alison and Mik as representatives of our generation get those things, but they don't really do it the way they're supposed to. They're married, but they're very young for a married couple who met when they were still in school. They've got a house in the country, but it's a ridiculous crumbling thing that is never going to be sustainable.

So when they have the baby, the ultimate mark of being an Adult, it feels off to us that they get that without there being talk of finances, about childcare, about support. Anyone who has kids these days only manage it with the help of extended family, and Alison's family can't physically help her (which hits so close to me as the child of disabled parents you don't even know lol) so of course Mike's mum steps in and steps over.

But the resolution should have been leaving the house for the good of the child, for the financial security, the tangible reality of the situation. Not because the Ghosts were lesser in some way than the nuclear family model, which is how it came across to many.

It's like when you put a family member into a care home. Of course you want to be able to care for them and be there for them but reality means they need more help than you can give them, and you need to be able to live your own life outside of being a caretaker.

Alison should not be expected to be a caretaker for eight people and a massive house at the cost of her life and her own desires of a family with Mike. That doesn't mean she doesn't love them, but given the choice she had to prioritise herself. That should have been where the emotional focus was.

I hate to say it's a little out of touch but I honestly think that might be a bit of what's going on here.

Ironically it seems like the ending comes from a place in the past, like pre 2016. Not the distant past but distant enough for us to notice.

[cutieeva]

The Beautiful Lie

Female reader

Warnings : Manipulation. Love bombing. Self harm. Sexual Assault.

⌜ The art and the love interest (male character) belongs to the talented artist @meo-eiru and the story is inspiringly written and dedicated to @meo-eiru and the readers ! Hope you enjoy the plot that belongs to me but also helped by @meo-eiru a lot ⌟

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒

(Y/N) rarely has time to offer to love, dating and such things because first : her taste in men are bad and second: she is a extremely busy person to balance her work life and personal life seperated until the most beautiful man she ever saw came surprising her with love. Or is it ?

"(Y/N), could you go to the Cutieeva mall to check out the new product's sales ?" Her female senior asked sitting from her desk.

"Of course, mam. I will be in a minute". (Y/N) agreed, saving all of her working documents before taking her handbag and left with car keys. Aurora Bloom, the brand of the cosmetic company she works, it is for now one of the top three companies to be trending in global and the best in Europe. While She works in HQ department of the company at a young age she didn't expect and living her life at ease at the rented apartment she lives quite close both to the company and her parents house who always here and there tell her to come home and when she does, it's a feast to eat of her home's comfy food and hearing thousand fictional stories from her writer father, well he wasn't a writer at first before he was a regular working manager at a company but he quit after (Y/N) outdone herself to such pristine department letting him decide to do what he likes until his last breath could be taken applying he wants no regrets to bear.

And he surprised the family by being quite a good writer himself, finding his own group of fandom invested in his writing and always support him while her mother is happy as she was being a housewife like always along being madly in love with her father who reciprocate the feelings to this day which (Y/N) finds utterly endearing yet she has no time to dwell about her love life when she has too much on her plate with her newfound career she wants to grow, as a independent woman and a person who lives her life to the fullest if overlook her empty love life.

"Yes mam, indeed people are enjoying the new shade of lipstick saying it's not only non-sticky but also long lasting highlighting their skin tones". The department store female manger explained pointing to the several women trying their new product 'the cherry blossom lipstick' either on their lips or on their palm.

(Y/N) nod, curling into a pleasant smile when her eyes caught a beautiful woman's back, wore pink shirt and tight skinny black pants with her musing long hair flowing with the breeze. "Must be pretty". She thought when she witness from her pocket a small object— foundation she recognized fell on the ground yet the woman walked away.

"She didn't noticed". On instinct almost she walked to the floor picking up the tiny box and call out. "Miss, your foundation..." She tailed off as she turn into the light, and captivated (Y/N) by the vision before her. His hair was a mesmerizing pink musing hue, with subtle waves that cascaded down his back like a rosy waterfall. The straight strands framed his face, accentuating his chiseled features, while his bangs fell effortlessly across his forehead, adding a touch of whimsical charm.

His eyes, a deep, burnished logoon color, like the warmth of a sunset on a tropical isle, sparkled with amusement as he caught her gaze. They seemed to dance with an inner light, drawing her in with an irresistible pull.

His lips, a vibrant red, curled into a gentle smile, revealing a hint of mischief, and (Y/N) felt her heart skip a beat. But it was the glint of gold at his ears that added the final touch to his captivating appearance - delicate, filigree earrings that seemed to shimmer in harmony with his eyes.

(Y/N) felt like she was drowning in the depths of his gaze, and before she knew it, the words tumbled out of her mouth in a whispered gasp "You're beautiful."

The man's smile widened, and a low, husky laugh rumbled from his throat, sending shivers down (Y/N)'s spine. "Thank you," he said, his voice dripping with warmth, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "You are a funny one complimenting me beautiful after calling me a lady".

As he laughed, the golden earrings caught the light, adding a touch of whimsy to his already captivating presence. (Y/N) felt her cheeks flush, but she couldn't tear her gaze away from his face, her heart still racing from the impact of his beauty also sinking the fact she mistaken a man being a woman.

"I am sorry. It wasn't my intention". Honestly said, she look down, dare peeking though her lashes to flinch finding him staring at her the entire time.

"I can see that, the way it's written over your face". He chuckle moving his finger in air to the circle to her face making her palm touch her own heated cherry face.

"Ah !" She laughed nervously, unconsciously fisting on the foundation box.

"So, can I have it back ?" His hand reached out, palm up, with shiny white nails gleaming in the light, as if beckoning the object back from (Y/N)'s grasp. His fingers, slender and elegant, curled slightly, inviting her to return the coveted item. The nails, smooth and rounded, seemed to shine like tiny beacons, drawing (Y/N)'s gaze to his outstretched hand. With a gentle, yet persuasive gesture, he coaxed the foundation back into his possession, his shiny white nails glinting with quiet confidence.

"Huh ?" (Y/N)'s eyes widened, then blinked slowly, as if awakening from a spell, realizing the man had taken the foundation with effortless ease, leaving her feeling bewitched while his eyes crinkled, lips curling into a warm smile as he chuckled, clearly delighted by the woman's adorable, bewildered expression. His low, husky laugh filled the air, his gaze sparkling with amusement.

"What a adorable lady she is". His eyes roamed her body, lingering on every curve, exploring each detail, as if discovering hidden treasures. "You aren't from the department store right ?" (Y/N) blink twice.

"No".

"Oh, then you came to shop ?" He narrowed his eyes noticing her carrying a huge white handbag.

"No". She answered in short.

"Then why ?" He asked tilted his head with the notion his golden earrings swing gently.

"I am from the HQ department of the brand you are holding". Finally she smiled confidently pointing at the foundation's box printed Aurora Bloom.

"Oh !" He delightfully smile, toying with the object. "Pleasant to meet you then. He added.

"Pleasant to you t—" a melody emitted from her wrist watch widening her (E/C) eyes. "Oh god ! I need to hurry ! I am sorry but I need to go". She apologized having fun to converse with the stranger.

"No worries—" His eyes spot the missing ring finger. "—Miss ?" He tailed off insinuating her unknown name.

"(L/N) (Y/N), sir". She replied.

"Mine is Elias". (Y/N) choose not to comment at his lack of surname and nod before walking hastily. How could she forget this time's event manager is herself hosted on Tuesday, the very next day. Cursing her fate she ran.

Perfect. (Y/N) release a sigh overwhelmed by the fast yet perfect preparations she had to done within such short amount of time thankfully today would be the flawless day to showcase their skin products to their VIP guests who might be arriving any minute. The models have already came but "Has the makeup artist come yet ?" She questioned worried for the delayed time of the famous make up artist they somehow succeed in booking his seat as social media following was staggering, with millions hanging on his every post and tutorial. Celebrities clamored for his attention, and fashion icons praised his work. Sold-out masterclasses and coveted collaborations solidified his status as the most sought-after makeup artist in the industry. His name was synonymous with glamour and expertise, and his influence was simply unparalleled.

"It's alright ! The artist must be running late right ?" Soon her worries were proven right because soon after their automatic glass door opened revealing a man wore sleek black glasses, adding a touch of sophistication to his chiseled features. His French brown coat, crafted from seemly fine leather, draped elegantly across his broad shoulders, exuding luxury.

"The artist came, mam !" Her female junior announced however (Y/N) knitted her brows finding the man somehow familiar, from his blush long hair, tall statue only be still surprised finding the man remove his glasses to indeed be that beautiful man from yesterday who smile at her noting he remembered her.

"Wow ! The world indeed works in a mysterious ways". She grin shaking her head. "Welcome to the our event sir, please hurry the show begins within minutes". Adapting her professional mannerism she shaked his hand, guiding him to their backstage to appear on the front stage.

"We met once again, Miss (L/N)" His lagoon eyes on her, standing behind the dark curtain to go.

"Of course, Sir Elias". She professionally smiled intriguing the man a little. "Oh ! Your turn". She stretch out her hand to the stage guide him who nod.

Wonderfully the event unfolded with seamless precision, a testament to the makeup artist's mastery. With each stroke of his brush, he transformed the models into living canvases, showcasing their company's product unparalleled quality. The VIP guests watched in awe, their faces aglow with delight, as the artist's vision came to life. As the final model face the guest revamped into a living goddess, the room erupted into applause, a joyful crescendo that wrapped the evening in a warm, golden glow. The event concluded with effortless elegance, leaving a lasting impression on all who attended including the staff and (Y/N) herself.

"He was the right choice". She giggle as her co-workers swarmed around her, beaming with pride and admiration. "Congratulations, you absolutely crushed it!" they exclaimed, patting her on the back and shaking her hand. "Your attention to detail and tireless efforts made this event truly unforgettable!"

Meanwhile, the VIP guests approached her, their faces still aglow with delight. "Thank you for an incredible experience," they said, their voices filled with genuine gratitude. "Your preparation was seamless, and every aspect of the event was meticulously executed. You truly are a master of your craft!" As the guests departed, (Y/N) waved goodbye, basking in the warmth of their praises. Her colleagues continued to congratulate her, their kind words and smiles a testament to her hard work and dedication. With a sense of pride and accomplishment, (Y/N) smiled, knowing she had truly outdone herself once again.

"You know your craft". She flinch almost screaming meeting his eyes.

"Hello, Mr. Elias. Partially it is your skills too that the reason why it was such a successful event". He smiled shrugging his shoulder.

"Okay, please have a safe drive and reach home". She wave her hand and farewell him before he parted his lips to say, remained rooted at his place, watching her figure disappearing.

"She is always hurry to leave". He mutter walking to his car.

"Hmm...this time their new lipstick looks better". (Y/N) discreetly stare at the neighboring make up store despite having much customers on her stores, she still find the new appeal of their products threatening to her company so she walked inside nodding to the welcoming female clerks.

Picking out the a box, she about to apply on her palm when a voice intrupted.

"Don't do it that way". Her eyes wide meeting his lagoon ones, smiling alike to crescent moons she compare. "Apply it in your lips directly and it will definitely have a different impact". He encouraged the doubtful woman who glided the crimson bullet across her lips, leaving a bold, velvety trail in its wake.

"Hmmm not suiting your face. Lighter". He picked out a peach shade handing her who again gliding the peach lipstick across her lips in soft, smooth strokes, as he whispered, "Let it caress your skin, like a summer breeze." As his warm breath danced across her ear, she flinched, her hand trembling with the lipstick. She turned, her gaze darting to his, their faces too close, the air thick with tension. Her eyes widened, a flicker of discomfort crossing her face, as she leaned back, her shoulders tensing. The lipstick hovered, forgotten, as she struggled to create space between them, her breath catching in her throat. His gaze held hers, intense, unyielding, making her skin prickle with unease and heart racing.

"This suits you. I will take one". Hearing his comment she cleared her throat, slowly keeping the lipstick to where it was when from the tail of her eyes she saw him choose an uneven box of peach shade. Quickly she picked the perfect box stretching to him who raised his eyebrows in question.

"I already have one". He jiggle the box but frown staring at her shaking head.

"Take this, it has perfect box unlike the uneven one". She pointed out to his surprise as a thrilled chuckle left his lips.

"Thank you". Replacing the case.

"No problem". She wave her hand as if physically waving his gratitude.

"Wanna grab drinks ?" Elias suggested out of nowhere tilting his head.

"Okay". Checking her wrist watch she still has few minutes to spare. Also she did wanted a drink and they together went to the drink store nearby ordering one white chocolate matcha for her and one caramel frappuccino for him.

Waiting for the drink they sat near a white seat opposite of each other, talking about trivial things about one another where she learnt he is a regular customer of her brand along their frequent makeup artist that's why she was able to book him easily. Soon the waitress called for their drinks and they talked, sipping their drinks and walking.

"Okay I need to leave". She decided glancing at her wrist watch missing his disappointed gaze.

"Okay. It was nice talking to you". He told.

"Me too". Happily she answered, finding herself enjoying their conversation. "I will take my leave". With a wave she left once again.

However what she didn't expected was their daily meeting at the mall department store as she stepped into the store, clipboard in hand, she was focused on her task: ensuring the department was running smoothly. But then, she saw him—a familiar face among the shelves. Their daily meetings had become a pleasant ritual, a brief respite from her HQ duties. He'd ask about her day, and she'd share stories about the office, or he'd gossip about his latest makeup news. She found herself looking forward to these encounters, feeling a sense of comfort and camaraderie with this customer. He was easy to talk to, and their conversations flowed effortlessly. As she checked the inventory, he'd chat with her, making the task more enjoyable. Their bond grew with each passing day, an unexpected connection between them she wasn't anticipating because once a mundane checking became the hightlight of her day with that weeks pass in blink of an eye. Until one day they sat in their usual white table in front of the drink shop inside the mall.

As he asked the question "Do you like me?" she felt a sudden jolt of surprise, her mind racing with a mix of emotions. Her eyes widened, and actions paused before laughter awkwardly bursting back and forth like a defensive shield.

"Yes, as a good friend!" she exclaimed, trying to brush off the tension, her tone light and playful. But in her haste to respond, she missed the subtle strain in his smile, the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes but a doubt linger on her mind for him to ask such a question. Why ? Never in her mind did she view the man romantic, beautiful yes but that's a admiration unlike love, she is certain of her feelings are not alike to love.

"I like you too." His voice was calm, sincere, To her, his words were a friendly echo, a mirrored response, a confirmation of their camaraderie. She nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over her, thinking the tension had dissipated, that they were back on familiar ground. (Y/N) simply smiled back, comfortable in her assumption, oblivious to the moment hung, suspended, a delicate balance of feelings, but she didn't notice, already moving on, the exchange filed away as a pleasant, friendly conversation and took her drinks however she soon has to depart this time with a hint of awkwardness.

"It's alright. Nothing is wrong". And correct to her thought the next day was normal as their conversation flowed easily, like a gentle stream. (Y/N) chatted with him, laughing and joking, feeling a sense of comfort and familiarity. His question from the day before seemed like a distant memory, a minor blip in their friendly interactions. She didn't dwell on it, assuming it was just a momentary lapse, a strange anomaly in their otherwise effortless exchanges. As they talked, she felt her guard drop, her smile genuine, her heart light. Everything seemed alright again, the tension forgotten, their friendship back on track.

"Okay, see you again !" (Y/N) told glancing at her wrist watch because today she has an important delivery to approval on the said store.

"Yup ! See you again". He bid too when a message notification made her pause, worry etching her face. Her dad's request to bring the anniversary cake had just been detailed by the store's cancellation due to an emergency. Panic set in, her mind racing with consequences, her eyes darting around for a solution. Stress and concern replaced her relaxed demeanor, her fingers flying across the screen to respond to her dad's message. Elias noticing the drastic change asked and she replied elaborating her situation of how she must reach to approvel the delivery application but on the otherhand has to get the custom cake from the cake shop if not then the cake would not be handover.

"How about I went to get the cake instead of you and delivery to your parent's house. Didn't you said it is near ?" He presented the idea, smiling causing (Y/N) to halted her racing thoughts and a breath of air pass her lungs.

"Of course ! Of course !". She laughed heartily handing him the receipts and addresses before running to the delivery store to hastily complete her task and return home as soon as possible.

"Today's work was difficult". Her finger pads rub her forehead re-thinking her workload, getting out of the car and towards her parent's house caught the setting sun's beautiful view. Ringing the doorbell she waited thoughts going back to Elias. "How sweet of a person he is". A smile naturally curl to her lips and wider when the door opened by her mother.

"Happy anniversary mama !" (Y/N) embrace tightly, soaking on her familiar comfort while she returned the affections.

"Thank you dearest. Come inside, it must be hot outside". Her mother close the door behind as she let herself in, walking to the living room finding glimpse of her father sitting on the side chair and ran to embrace him from behind.

"Happy anniversary papa". She sing song, playfully kiss his hair.

"Thank you princess". His aged voice laughed, caress her hands to which she close her eyes melting into his raw love. "Also this young man is such an gentleman. Your taste in men is indeed great like your mother". She frown opening her eyes.

"What are you talking—" Her (E/C) wide, taken a back by Elias appearance sitting across her father, on the sofa and he raised his hands in mock surprise, his eyebrows arched in a playful gesture.

"Why are you—" Her words cut by her mother gentle ones.

"My heartless girl ! You left this man to fend for himself by telling him to get the cake and now you ask why is he here ? Of course I told him to grab one or two bite". The young woman nod, feeling guilty and appreciate at her mother's gesture.

"Ah— about that I am extremely sorry. It was my job to do". Elias shook his head nonchalant.

"Yet without my idea you wouldn't agree so yea, not your fault too". She glee truly pleased to find such a good friend she couldn't ask more and the anniversary celebration was a resounding success, filled with love, laughter, and warmth. As the evening unfolded, (Y/N)'s parents shared a tender moment, her father leaning in to kiss her mother softly on the lips. (Y/N) couldn't help but mockingly scrunch up her face in distaste, eliciting a hearty laugh from Elias sitting beside her. The atmosphere was light and joyful, with the sweet scent of cake wafting through the air. As they gathered around the dessert table, (Y/N)'s parents fed each other cake, their eyes locked in a loving gaze. The beautiful man joined in, playfully feeding (Y/N) a bite, his fingers brushing against hers. The room was filled with the sound of clinking forks and happy chatter, as they all savored the sweetness of the moment, and the love that surrounded them. Time stood still and they basked in the warmth of their little family's happiness, creating memories that would last a lifetime.

"Thank you very much. You helped me a lot". She showed her gratitude standing at the doorstep.

Elias shake his head "I enjoyed it so no need". Silence fill between them letting (Y/N) once again notice the lunar luminescence cascaded over the beautiful man's countenance, bathing his sculpted features in an soft, silvery radiance, as if the moon itself had bestowed a gentle caress upon his serene and peaceful face.

"Bye and good night".

"Same to you". He returned, turning his back to her and drove his car away.

From that day forward, the bond between (Y/N) and Elias blossomed into a beautiful, unbreakable connection. (Y/N) found herself opening up to Elias in ways she never thought possible, sharing with him her deepest thoughts, feelings, and desires. She began to show him pictures of her friends, promising to introduce them soon, and shared stories about her life, her passions, and her dreams. As their trust grew, they exchanged contacts, marveling at how they had gone so long without sharing such a simple yet intimate detail. Their conversations flowed effortlessly, filling their break times with laughter and delight. Elias became (Y/N)'s confidant, her partner in crime, and her guiding light. Their friendship was a symphony of joy, a harmonious blend of trust, understanding, and mutual respect. (Y/N) cherished this new connection, feeling seen, heard, and understood in ways she never thought possible. Elias had become her rock, her safe haven, and her forever friend.

"By the way, I need your help with something". This alert her entire attention to him, sipping her drink from the staw as they both stood in front of the usual drink shop at the mall.

"Yes, anything. What is it about ?" (Y/N) was ready to help him when it's his need of time.

"I need your expertise in sorting through my grandparent's old photo albums. I want to create a memory book for my family, but I'm overwhelmed". Elias avert his eyes, smiling rigidly causing her heart melt at such an thoughtful gesture.

"Aww ! That sweet of course. I am happy to help". But his expression remained uncomfortable.

"But, you need to come to my house for that". He whispered dare to stare into her (E/C) eyes.

She suck her breath knowing she never once visited his home and she gulped nevertheless she grin again because her schedule is free mostly and she wants to help "It's alright ! I am happy to go but of course if you are comfortable". She tilted her head.

"Oh !— of course I would be or why would I ask you for help".

"Likewise but why did you ask me ?" If she recalls correctly he showed her many of his influencer, normal friends.

"Because you are the only friend who is good at managing things. You know like a good event manager who knows how to put things together ?" It earned a melodious laugh from (Y/N).

"I feel appreciated".

"As you should". She giggle more along him for his compliment. Soon she found herself in his car as he drove smoothly through the city, their eyes meeting briefly in the rearview mirror. Arriving at the penthouse he lives. The towering marvel of modern architecture that seemed to touch the stars. He expertly maneuvered the car into the private parking garage, and they stepped out into the opulent lobby, surrounded by polished marble and gleaming steel. A swift elevator ride later, they entered the penthouse itself, a breathtaking expanse of floor-to-ceiling windows, chic décor, and stunning city views. Her eyes widened in wonder, feeling as though she'd entered a different world more important his personal safe of walls.

"Sit on the sofa". He pointed going to the open modern kitchen. (Y/N) felt serenity wash over her when her feet stepped onto the shiny white tiles, their cool surface calming her senses. Sinking into the plush black sofa, she felt enveloped in comfort, her eyes darting around the luxurious space in wonder. With each glance, her awe grew, her heart swelling with gratitude for this stunning sanctuary.

"Here, a juice for you and you see those dusty stacks of heavy things. I found them inside". The cold glass slid within her grip but she smiled nervously because unfortunately blinded by the luxury she often seen on the TV she failed to detect the bluntly dusty things.

"Yes". She lied now laiding her eyes.

"They are I think contains photos of my grandparents but I need help to create an entire new album". Elias shrug helplessly.

"Alright ! Let's do this then". (Y/N) full of enthusiasm knelt down, her hands reaching for the dusty photo albums that lay open on the sleek glass table, her fingers touched the worn covers, a cloud of dust swirled up, carrying with it memories of laughter and love. But with the memories came a fit of coughing, as the dust tickled her throat and lungs.

Elias being swift and attentive, appeared beside her, his movements fluid as he knelt down. He handed her a glass of crystal clear water, his eyes filled with concern. "Here, drink this," he whispered, his voice soft and soothing. She sipped the water, cough subsiding only then to be aware of the proximity of their bodies, kneeling together on the floor. Their faces were inches apart, their shoulders touching, and their legs aligned. The closeness sent a shiver down her spine. His lagoon gaze drifted from her eyes to her lips, still moist from the water. His hand, still cradling the glass, began to move, his fingers brushing against her face.

With gentle care, Elias thumb rubbed against her lips, wiping away the droplets of water. she felt a sudden jolt of discomfort. His touch, though gentle, sent a wave of unease through her body. She tried to pull back, but his long slender hand lingered, his fingers tracing the curve of her mouth.

"(Y/N), I love you. Actually I was in love with you for a long time. Please, please accept me". Desperation whisper though his pink lips bringing their face closely and gripping her chin with his thump settle on the curve of her mouth.

"But you said you like—" Her words intruded.

"Never as a friend did I said". Elias connect their forehead. "It was you who receive it that way". (Y/N)'s eyes darted away, her gaze falling on the dusty floorboards as she struggled to process the sensation. Her heart raced, but not with excitement— rather with anxiety.

Trapped.

Betrayed.

Bothered.

She is feeling her personal space invaded by the intimate touch. The air thick with tension, the silence between them oppressive. (Y/N) longed to break free, to shatter the uncomfortable stillness that had settled over them. But her voice caught in her throat, leaving her unable to speak, unable to move, as Elias' hand remained, a gentle yet unyielding presence on her skin.

Why ? How ? When ? So many unanswered crawl inside her limited knowledge. Everything was going well, perfect yet why did it has to crash so harshly.

"Please, (Y/N) be mine. I can offer you anything you want. Riches, fame, connection, promotion. Say a word and it inside your palm". Slowly he draw their distance and (Y/N) felt utter destroyed by the wave of soft lips press against her. The kiss was harsh, demanding, and devoid of love. Her hands desperate to push him away, however his slender grip her fast, his arms wrapping around her like a vice or more like an beautiful snake wrap around his beloved prey.

Raged filled her (E/C) eyes, loathing the string of fate leading her in such advance, loathing the feel of his lips on hers, the way his tongue probed her mouth without consent. loathing the way he held her, like she was a prisoner, not a willing participant she wanted to grace her loved man her first kiss.

Finally air became a need did the beautiful man separate their interviwned lips, heat bust his pale cheeks, adoring heart pupils onto his eyes, chest heaving with newfound excitement snarling the chance she shove him, spatting words of vemon and eyes blazing with anger. "You disgust me". With that she ran and he let her.

Tears streaming down her cheeks, she rushed to a taxi, traveling to her home of trust, sobbing by the betrayal she was returned by the conditional trust she gave after reaching home towards her bathroom was a burl rather her sole focus is escaping the lingering sensation of Elias lips on hers.

Rushed to the sink, gagging at the memory of the unwelcomed kiss. She turned on the faucet, cupping her hands under the running water to splash it onto her lips. Fingers rubbed her mouth harshly to scrub away the disgust moment yet the sensation lingered, haunting her. She gagged again, her stomach churning with revulsion. (Y/N) grasped the edge of the sink, her knuckles white with tension, as she struggled to compose herself eventually her legs gave out, and she collapsed to the white floor, her body trembling with anger and disgust. She sat there, her back against the cabinet, her eyes fixed on the floor as tears of frustration and violation streamed down her face.

The bathroom, once a sanctuary, now felt like a refuge from the trauma of the forced kiss. (Y/N) sat there, surrounded by the cold, sterile tiles, trying to catch her breath, in effort to erase the memory of Elias. The man she thought was her cherished partner, a delightful friend. Where ? Where did it all went wrong ? Where was the wrong step or word she utter to lead such devastating ending or was his whole persona was a facade. A spider wed to trap a butterfly like her and she was a naive little thing to walk right on it.

As the night's veil lifted, the sun rose, casting its warm rays upon the world. The golden light crept over the horizon, banishing the shadows and illuminating the landscape. The rays peeked through the curtains, gently coaxing (Y/N) out of her dark reverie.

Her eyes sunken and dark from the sleepless night, slowly opened alike two heavy doors creaking on their hinges. The golden light danced across her face, highlighting the purple circles that had formed under her eyes. The horror of the previous night's experience still lingered, etched on her face like a shadow.

(Y/N) blinked, her gaze unfocused, as the light pierced through her brain, reminding her of the traumatic events that had unfolded. She winced, mind recoiling from the memory. The usual ray of sun, a symbol of hope and renewal, now seemed like a harsh reminder of the darkness she had endured. She sat up, her body droop heavy, weighed down by the exhaustion and emotional turmoil. The golden light continued to pour in, illuminating the room, however (Y/N) felt not a hint of warmth, not of comfort. Only a sense of dread, a fear of what the new day might bring.

Disturbed by her numb thoughts she called her senior announcing her day off slipping the lie of being sick before declining and about to drift into sleep.

DING ! Her doorbell ring. She ignored. Again. Again. Again. Again and again following with a "(Y/N) ! This is me, your mother and father". Irritated she drag her feet to the front door, opening to reveal her aged parents.

"(Y/N)— what happen sweetie ?" Worry weight her words, touching her daughter's check when she flinch unconsciously frightening both her parents and herself.

"Come inside". Heavy her voice sounded, closing the door and sitting on the chair while they together on the sofa.

The air was heavy, thick with tension. Silence was oppressive, suffocating. The atmosphere was dense, like a knife could cut through it. Slicing through the strained quiet like a razor-sharp blade through velvet. Every breath felt like a struggle, every movement a battle against the crushing gravity of the moment.

"Darling, did you fought with your boyfriend ?" Bravely her mother finally questioned raising her eyebrows.

"Boyfriend ? Fight ?" Her voice trembled.

"Or". The old woman grasp. "Did you break up". Her husband rest his palm on her shoulder while (Y/N) confuse more by their words.

"Boyfriend ? Break up ? What are you talking about ? I do not have a boyfriend to begin with so how can I fight or break up with him ?" Frustration she shake her head as if physically shoving their creative imagination.

"Honey, it's alright. You don't have to hide from us. We understand you wanted to keep it a secret but he told us and we accept him as your boyfriend". Her mother calmly smiled providing a sense of comfort yet all she felt was suffocation and more confusion.

"Okay, at first I was sceptical. He looked flashy, an playboy however he is actually a child at heart, a very good one and is always eager to help". This time her father spoke lacing with a fondness she didn't expect him to talk about someone.

"What is wrong with you ! I never had a boyfriend in my life". She scream her lungs out yet her mother clap her hands on her mouth and her father pressed his lips thin.

"We know Elias is your boyfriend. (Y/N), don't be afraid. We are your parents". Then why ? Then why she doesn't feel the warmth from her parents as if they are distant people wearing familiar faces because the words spoken from their lips doesn't make sense.

"He was never my boyfriend ! Who ever told you that ? Don't assume things on your own". Frustration leaking though her voice, eyes narrowed in a glare and lips in disdain from stress.

"He told us himself. Elias told us when he delivery the cake ! Now don't tell me he was lying". Her father sigh stunned to see her daughter's rebellious side at such age.

"W-what ?" She stutter suddenly the world blurred, the walls melt away like a watercolor painting. The room zoomed out, leaving her suspended in a sea of uncertainty. Furniture and decorations receded into the distance, and she felt like she was floating, disconnected from reality. Their voices turn to distant echoes, thoughts a jumbled mess, as shock wrapped around her like a shroud.

"Why would he be my boyfriend ?"

"Why are you asking us ? You are the one in relationship and you are the one to hid it if not for the good man". Enough. The last straw of her held anger cut.

"G-G-Good man ? Good man ? Good fucking man ! You are calling a man who—who—" Words trailed off, lost in the abyss of her own horror, as she struggled to articulate the vile truth. "A-and that good man—" Despite her effectors the sentences remained unfinished, a haunting echo of her own trauma leaving her succumbed to the darkness of her memories.

"(Y/N)". Her mother's brows quiver and her hand touch hers. "I understand". A sense of relief came to her. Her mother understood, understood her assault by the vile, vile man. "I understand couple fight. They fight a lot and dirty but in the end they fight to be better, to be more loving, setting differences aside fight is normal as long as the couple love each other. You going through a rough patch with Elias is normal. He is a good man, believe your mother's judgment". Her words burn a slap on her cheek and her words were salt on (Y/N)'s wound.

"How dare you !" Her voice shattered the air, a raw, anguished with tears rolling down her cheeks. "How dare you labeled a man who forcefully kiss me ! Get out". Standing up, her eyes close feeling her throat constricted, dry and tight, as shame crept in like a thief, stealing her breath and dignity.

"Oh my (Y/N), couples fights are normal so is kissing. He must have meant it to calm you—"

"So he forced himself on me ?"

"He must not had meant to make you—". Her eyes wide in horror watching their impassive expressions oblivious to her distress she felt a stranger rather than daughter sharing a space now. Their faces blur by her teary vision. They are not her parents. They are strangers. They are not her parents if they slide with a stranger who not only forced himself on her but also lied.

"Get out". She commonded raw, loud and clear walking to her bedroom running from the suffocated, unbreathable small space. Her eyes watched her parents walked away, their figures fading into the distance. She felt a complex layers of emotions and when they turned their heads, she quickly shut the curtains, blocking out the sight of their faces. Her strength couldn't bear to look at them, couldn't bear to see their nonchalant expressions.

Turning away from the window and sat down on her bed, her hands shaking as she reached for her phone. She needed someone to talk to, someone who would understand. Her fingers dialed the familiar number of her best friend, the one person she knew would listen without judgment. The phone rang, (Y/N) felt a lump form in her throat. She was ready to unleash all her emotions, to share the pain and confusion that had been building up inside her. She took a deep breath, preparing to pour out her heart to her friend, the only one who could offer her the comfort and support she desperately needed.

"Hello (Y/N) ! How do you do ?" Her ray of light spoke.

"Emily. I-I-I want to talk to you about something".

"Sure, anything (Y/N) ! Aren't I your best friend". Lighthearted giggles on the otherhand comfort her ears.

"The thing is, remember Elias ?"

"Oh ! What about him ? The hottie". A bitter taste left her lips hearing her sound so oblivious yet she understand it's not her fault.

"Well, yes. He yesterday forced himself on me". Silent was the line for a second before a loud screeching noise came.

"What ? That's messed up !" Her firm and resolute voice felt a weight lift from (Y/N)'s heart, a sense of validation wash over her. She was no longer alone in her outrage and hurt. Emily's words were a balm to her soul, soothing her raw emotions. Feeling seen, heard, and believed.

"I knew it you woul—"

"But you see we have to also must see his point of view. He must had done that in desperation to be more than friends with benefits with you. I know normally friends with benefits should know their limits but he is a kind, pure and perfect man for you". As fast as the ray of light came, that vanished in front of her soaking her in cold reality, numbing her heart. Icy truth seeped in, crushing her soul.

"W-what are you talking about Emily ? I never had that kind of relationship with him !! Didn't I told you ?" More tears cover the dry ones, confusion lay on her mind to wonder how each important person to her is on his side.

"Gosh ! (Y/N) forgive me actually Elias told me about your relationship. He was even ashamed to admit it at first before whole heartedly declare his romantic feelings for you that even I was touched". Lies. Lies and lies. Gritted her teeth she decline the call, throwing it on her bed.

Madly her lips parted to scream. Ha ! What a wicked man he is, feeding lies to her loved ones, snatching them away from her and all in an blink of eye and right under her nose. How idiot was she to not notice ? How ? How ? How ? Rage pump on her veins and emotions controlled her rationality.

Swifty she call his number, clenching her fist. "Hello darling, I was waiting for your call". His sickly sweet voice came from the other line.

"Stop this you fucking bastard ! Stop these mind games ! Stop the lies". (Y/N) glare at him though phone.

"Ouch ! Calling my love lies, games hurt more than I expected. I guess this is the power of loving someone. Huh ?" His laughter was like a taunting to her, racing her pulses.

"I will kill you !" She threaten.

"Oh how lovely it is to have your hand on me as I take my last breath". She throw the phone across her bed in disgust and helpless not aware he is driving to her house. Finally obtained the moment he was so patiently awaited. The time to have her vulnerable and alone.

Wasn't she sound so cute right now ? He bite his lips betting she looks more adorable.

Spoiled. Growing up he was spoiled by everyone, every meeting face from his childhood, once they look at his face, they drastically change their behaviors, showering him with free gifts, praises and all, regardless of old or young. He was the beloved of their hearts, the king ruling their minds. Thus, growing up being spoiled wasn't new for him, the admiration stares mixing with some disband doesn't affect him why ? Because that means they are jealous of him. Ha ! Who wouldn't, he didn't view his arrogance as bad, he simply believe it as his confidence nothing more, nothing less after all all women confess to him one after another non-stop yet never did he loved any. Until that fateful day he went to the shopping mall of department store meeting that adorable woman, all red, blushly for him. It amused him to end, what a pleasant play toy to enjoy for sometimes however the drastic change due to her professionalism was a behold see.

She was nothing like the woman he saw that day. He almost tricked into thinking she forget him.

"We met once again, Miss (L/N)"

"Of course, Sir Elias".

Good, she didn't forget him. She simply wanted to act professional. How fun. He enjoyed nailling his usual performance that for some reasons always got him claps, praises when in reality he just does it naturally because he has nothing else to do. Unlike other people investing in their hobby, he has nothing. Perhaps because of that he is used to being pampered, loved and given anything he wish.

However why ? Why once again like yesterday after the event end did she not stay to convey meaningless string of words like others ? Always running away like an lamb catching sight of an wolf. Boring. Elias care not to pay attention to her after all many have dislike him but thousands who love him. The next day encountering her again was a pure game of fates but after noting her little consider habits did he realize she loves him.

Because if she doesn't, who will notice the uneven box of lipstick replacing with the perfect one ? If she doesn't, why she glance at him so many times ? Often smiling and appearing cheerful ? If she doesn't, why she always remembers his drink from the one time he ordered ? And so much more.

She must love him. Right ? Oh ! Oh ! How naive he was to not realize her blunt feelings for him. It's okay he has fallen for her too. Yes, Elias, the man who usual pampered has this sudden desire to pamper his beloved, watching her daily or even seen a glimpse of her flutter his heart like never did before. Their accidental brushes of fingers and shoulders sent him jolts of delight. Once seen her beautiful face could his lips curve to smile itself.

It's okay he will wait. Wait for her to confess and him accept. One week pass, two week pass. Maybe she is playing hard to get. Understandable she must be waiting for the perfect moment to confess that must mean he has to appear perfect right ? Daily he spent hours in front of mirror selecting the perfect outfit, smoothly care his hair, highlight his beautiful face. First it was only limited to changing outfits to style his hair daily to cut his hair in more desirable way to only repeat the routine. Each passing day he is refining himself then why ? Why ? Why didn't she even compliment him ? Let alone confess to him already ? He dolled himself up almost—no surely daily yet what is she so timid about. Til he realize —actually she isn't timid at all.

Rather she is not in love with him. How he got to know ? Because he was hastily ran to the mall, very giggy to meet the heart of his life when his breath stuck in his throat. In front of him a scene of (Y/N) tying a middle aged man's tie that came untie and she welcome him warmly in return of his thanks before talking warmly to the staffs asking if any needs they wishes to have, even helping a woman who's having trouble wearing lipstick and non-judgmentally explaining their products to others.

She is actually not in love with him. She is just nice. As if the gods played a ridicule game to him still his hatred was directed to the gods not her. How could he blame her ? She was a naive little thing. Sooner of later she will come to love him. That's why one day he asked her.

"Do you like me ?"

"Yes, As a good friend !" What a dishearten words.

"I like you too." In a romantic way were the words he choose to not speak. It's okay, if she doesn't like him now she will in the future. All she needs is time. He has to nurture, sewed and take time to built the love or else how it would be possible. First he has to make her alone. Alone to reply on him. And only him.

And the gods were at his side to grace him with the opportunity on golden plate he was used to. Using the excuse to delivery the cake to her parents house was the first step to isolate her. So he did what he was naturally gifted at, winning hearts regardless of age. Quickly they were head over hell, swooning at his lies about their secret relationship and more lies about their wish to keep it a secret as she want to disclose it on her own term. Fools, her parents were and naive his (Y/N) was moving closer to him. Showing him pictures of her friends, spewing all of her work related words and he silently memorize her password so when she went to use restroom or busy checking her tasks, he smartly save all of her contacts.

Charming her friends, dancing them at his rhythm against her, saying they are friends with benefits where he was unfortunate to fall in love and finally he invited (Y/N) home and confess his passionate love.

"You disgust me".

Well, didn't it end badly ? It's alright she will come crawling to him. Right inside his embrace all willingly. Elias will be the bigger person in here, forgiving her amuture mistakes because he loves her.

Ring ! Ring ! Elias stand in front of his beloved house, ringing the doorbell. The finale came and his patient broke all lose. This is the moment she has to be his and he hers.

"Mom, Dad ! I told you—" Her breath hitched and instinctively tried to slam the door shut, but he was too swift, too potent. His hand darted out, arresting the door's momentum with a firm yet gentle touch, and he stepped across the threshold with a fluid motion. The door creaked in defeat, surrendering to his quiet strength. (Y/N) retreated, her heart racing like a wild animal, as Elias's eyes seemed to delve into her very essence. His presence was a palpable force, filling the space with an almost suffocating intensity. With a subtle click, he closed the door behind him, his hand lingering on the doorknob as his gaze continued to hold hers captive.

"What's the hurry hmm ?" The gentle smile contrast to the violent actions was ironic. Unfazed he step forward. She step back.

He advanced, his footsteps deliberate and purposeful and (Y/N) retreated, her own steps faltering in a desperate bid for distance.

With each step he took forward, she mirrored with a hesitant step back, her eyes fixed on his, her breath caught in her throat.

"What are you doing here ?" Alarm danger ringing inside her entire body, sending mix signals to her flight, fight or freeze mode. All she felt being hovered by him was fear, no longer the anger fuming her veins.

"Just here to visit my darling". In sing song manner he told, walking until his wild cat cornered. (Y/N) feeling the wooden wall of her kitchen immediately run away near the stairs.

"Just stay there—". Her words cut off.

"Do you love me ?" Using the same honeyed coated voice he asked.

"I will call the police Elias !" She threatened

"Do you love me ?" He bore his lagoon eyes into her (E/C) ones.

"Please stay away".

"If you answer. Do you love me".

"No. I don't". She spat, bewilded by the fact he would wish for her to love him even after the twisted games he played with her.

"Then will you love me ?" Her face contorted in mix of anxiety and exasperation.

"No". Nodding calmly to her denial he picked the nearby kitchen knife scarying her further.

"No. No. No. No. No. Elias ! Please don't do this—"

"I must or else you won't be mine". Saying she was ready to sprint for her survival however he pressed the knife to his throat, tears streaming down his face like rivulets of sorrow, his eyes pleading for her. "Please be mine or I will kill myself". He gaze fondly at her widen ones.

"You are crazy". She whispered not expected such move.

"Yes, I am for you". A sly, mirthless grin spread across Elias's face, his lips curling upward in a macabre smile. "So will you love me ?"

Tears swelled in her eyes, fear and despair mingling watching his steady hand inch the sharp blade closer.

"No wait !"

"Then say do you love me ?" He whisper alike to the sweet nothings hushes. "Because without you why must I stay alive". He added.

"Okay okay I will say it". She doesn't know. She doesn't know why she says it because a twisted sense of desperation clawed at her chest, a morbid longing to preserve the life of the one she loathed, as if his existence was inextricably linked to her own.

"I l-l-lo— I can't". In despair she collapse unable to bear so many complicated emotions and nightmares at the same time in her seemly simple life. Footsteps echoed the silent room as his shoes came to her view and he bend to her level, throwing the knife and cupping her chin like she was a delicate flower despite plucking her roots and held her.

"It's all right you will learn to love me". A happy smile curve his alluring lips that press against hers. This time the is gentle, caressing and lovely as if petals of love is pouring out of his lips silently conveying his words. Slipping his tongue in hers, he trapped her tongue savoring her divine flovours he was thirsty to drink again. Sucking mouthful of air he kiss more, not letting their lips separated for a moment and close his eyes drowning under the moment while she close her eyes motionlessly stilled, letting him do as he please selling herself to him with the price of forever.

As oxygen grew scarce, he parted their lips grinning ear to ear, leaning his forehead to hers.

"This is a lie. All of these are lies you said to others". She utter hopelessly.

"Then let's make it a reality". He suggested however brows frown watching her shake her head.

"Can't. Too much lies to forget".

Chuckly raspy, he kiss once more saying. "Then let's make it the beautiful lie".

FIN

⌜ Once again thank you @meo-eiru for letting me use your wonderful male character Elias and your permission to write this story along thank you readers for reading the story. Hope you enjoy it ⌟

[eddiernunson]

Bikinis, Ice Cream and Other Ways To Torture Him | Older Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Harrington Fem!Reader | 18+

Prev |

Summary: The stories of Eddie Munson, front man of Corroded Coffin and his music filled the Harrington household, his albums on shelves and picture frames hung of your dad and him, young and dumb. You’re home for the weekend, which happens to be the same weekend Eddie is in Hawkins on a personal errand. The longtime crush bubbles to the surface as you meet him, giving into the temptation of small summer dresses and bubblegum gloss for the fun of it. Until your dad is called in to an emergency work meeting. Then the fun of torture becomes temptation.

Warnings: Older Rockstar!Eddie, Harrington!Reader (Steve’s daughter), use of excessive nicknames, no use of y/n, ambiguous ending, smut

Describes: long hair, shorter than Eddie by a few inches, reader is described to look like her mom (can be ANY race) with Steve’s freckles. No skin Color or body shape/type.

Word Count: 6.8k

This is the last chapter so…enjoy! Thanks for reading! Sorry for the delayed posting today! Parenthood is kicking my ass.

Chapter 6

You hesitantly accept his offer, getting up to sober up a little and grab a bathing suit as Eddie comes from behind you, hands grabbing your shoulders and resting his chin on one of them as he asks, “Where are you going?”

“Grabbing a bathing suit,” you answer, gulping at his stubble pressed directly against your cheek.

“Don’t think so,” Eddie jerks his head, not giving you a moment to wonder what he meant before you hit the icy cold depths of your pool, hearing Eddie also hit the water as you went under.

“Jesus!” You cry as you hit the surface, wiping your face from the water that got into your eyes. “Warn a girl!”

“We were going into the pool anyway, we got towels, where’s the fun in that?” Eddie asks, starting to swim circles around you.

“You could’ve at least let me take my shorts off, they are already falling off my legs,” you whine, grabbing the pair from below the waters’ surface around your shin to throw on the pool’s edge.

Eddie scoffs, attempting not to leer to your underwear under the water, wondering if the pool’s liquid had made it see through, or what kind you were wearing. It occurs to him he hadn't thought this impromptu swim very well through.

He swims to the edge to take another drink of his beer, offering you one as well when you pout to your beer still sitting by the dwindling fire. “Alright, I bet…” he trails off, his eyes shining mischievously, “I could beat you to the other end of the pool,” Eddie announces, already starting the race.

“Hey, it’s not fair if you’ve already started!” You huff, quickly starting some breast strokes right behind him.

He beats you by mere seconds, grinning at you cheekily when your face lifts from the water. “You got a head start,” you pout, splashing him childishly.

He splashes you right back at twice the force, a tidal wave completely drowning your head. “You’re just a sore loser.”

“Alright, then, one two three go!” You launch yourself off the wall, giggling when Eddie gives the same attitude towards your unfair headstart as you did to his.

Somehow, he manages to get ahead, out of breath as you reach the surface but grinning stupid all the same, proud of his besting you once again. “Cheaters never prosper.”

“Yeah, or you just have better lungs and longer legs, Munson,” you sneer, not letting him be too proud of his second win.

“Better lungs? Prove it. Wanna test it?” He teases, his eyelashes dripping with the chlorine water but not paying any mind how it drips into his eyes.

“By what, by seeing who can hold your breath under water the longest?” you joke, giggling when he nods in all seriousness.

You agree to it, but just as you could’ve predicted, he wins all three tries. He shrugs, saying something about you must’ve been right about his singer’s lungs.

You usually don’t take losing so well, a competitive streak from having three siblings who all succeeded in almost everything they did, but you were getting so much joy from your adventure in the water with him you forgot to be sour.

“You talk a big talk, but I could beat you in math any day, Munson,” you jeer, internally panicking when it doesn’t affect him in the slightest.

“Oh yeah? Well math ain’t gonna help you here, sweetheart.” He lurches forward, initiating a chase that sends a thrill up your spine, immediately turning away and freaking out when you hear his splashes grow closer and closer.

The pool wall ended up being much closer than you had expected, turning around to him nearly colliding with you from the full force of his momentum. He’s breathing heavily, his bare chest after complaining about his shirt dragging him down pale in the blue night lights, two hands right next to your shoulders on the tiles. He licks his lips, a playful grin still on his face yet slowly fades.

Your shirt has also dragged you down, having taken it off and throwing it just a few feet from where your shorts lie. Your underwear does little to hide what it’s meant to, two thin fabrics between you and the wall. You recall when you considered putting on a bathing suit after your shower earlier but thought it would be silly.

Now all of that seems silly.

The music, now faint, still carries on in the background as Eddie nor you move from the spots, the space between your chests seemingly smaller and smaller.

You’ve held back from this tantalizing temptation so many times, you’ve lost track. You don’t have the strength to hold back any more, so you don’t. You finally take a bite of the damn apple, whether or not there’s hell to pay for it.

Your legs wrap around his waist, tugging him in as you finally press your lips to his gorgeous pink ones. Eddie immediately tenses up, going stiff as a rod. Your first instinct is that you’ve obviously made a blunder, misreading all the signs and were waiting for the humiliation to start, for his apologies to bumble out.

When you attempt to let go and apologize profusely, he cuts you off, pinning your back against the pool as his hands work their way up your body, restless and careless until they stay still on your ass, rough and commanding as you feel his boner right on your desperate heat. His lips against yours take complete control, one hand landing on your cheek as he opens his mouth just a little bit more to allow your tongues collide, beers and smores and musk and watermelons and oh fuck he’s a good kisser.

His stubble collides with your cheek and burns in the best way, drinking in every moment as he kisses you slow but desperately, not wanting to waste a single second after burning for it, his lips on yours.

“Do you know what you do to me, you beautiful little tease?” He mutters, rutting himself as if to demonstrate what he meant.

“I have an idea,” you smirk, gasping the smile away as soon as the boner collides again, harder.

“Do you? Do you know that everytime I see you in a new slutty little outfit I get fucking hard? Every small action you make, taking joints out from your fucking bra, licking jam off your hand,” he ruts again swallowing a whimper that leaves your mouth, “the fucking ice cream, fuck, it is torture just being near you.”

Your legs cling onto him, heels digging into his thighs as one hand wedges itself between your panties and your hip, toying with the thin fabric, his hand roughly digging into the doughy skin of your thigh. “Tell me more,” you plead, chasing his full lips as they messily plant kisses all down your neck, teeth scraping against your skin while his nose nuzzles it, taking deep inhales on his trek.

“God, baby, everything about you had me ready to mark you as mine, I just needed you so fucking bad it drove me insane. Did you need me too? I-I fucking know the answer, but I need to hear it, you need me too, right?” He borderline begs, his voice gone from rough and aggressive to needy almost instantaneously.

“I-I need you, Eddie, I really, really need you,” you answer him in full honesty, overwhelmed by the force of vulnerability that rushes through you like a gust of wind.

The only thing that you can call what comes out of him next is a whimper, his brown eyes searching both of yours rapidly as his hand tightens on your bare hip. “Say it again?”

“Say what again?” you frown, your face close enough to his that the only thing that passes through it are the loud gasps in the quiet of the night. Even with the music still playing in the background, it really only feels as its you and him alone in the world.

“Say my name?” He licks his lips right before scattering kisses all along your collarbone, sucking and nibbling weaved with little whimpers, his wet hair brushing against your chin in the meantime.

You smile, not having noticed the subconscious attempt at distancing yourself. Referring to him as Eddie, even in place of Munson, feels too personal, too real. If he’s Eddie, he’s on your level. Attainable.

Something you have told yourself all weekend that he is anything but.

Your mouth opens to give him exactly what he wanted, but you decide against it at the very last second, “Make me,” husking out instead.

The breathy, seductive tone took him aback, his brow scrunching for just a fraction of a second until a change cascades over his face. Half of his open mouth quirks itself upward, and it’s dark out, the sun having said its final goodbyes, but his brown doe eyes darken as he collects himself. “Make you, hmm? S’that my pretty girl asking me to make her moan my name?”

You nod, out of focus but staring up at him through your lashes all the same, arching your back when he takes you by surprise as he gropes the soft skin of your ass.

“You have been a very good girl, I suppose,” he hums, as if still considering your offer, like he wasn’t just begging for it only moments ago.

You could argue against that, but you won’t if he’s offering you this leeway. “Mmhm,” you nod eagerly, your breaths growing shorter and faster biting your lip in anticipation.

“Alright, then be my good girl and say please,” Eddie mutters, landing one hand next to you on the pool tiles.

“Please,” spills out your lips before you even process it, your legs slowly wafering through the water as he remains still, his lips and hand once all over you now a simple tease in comparison to the touch he finally granted you.

“Please?” Eddie mutters, tilting his head in false curiosity. “Please, what, baby?”

“Please, please t-touch me,” it ‘s so simple, so delicate yet so intimate, crossing a boundary the both of you tried so hard to refrain from. “Want you to please make me moan your name with your fingers, Please.”

“See?” Eddie’s hands start again, hand on the tiles slotting itself on your cheek, the other abruptly slotting itself on your heat. “See, I knew you were a good girl.”

Just his touch alone sends a jolt up your system, a hot flash of lightning as your body jolts up weightlessly held up by his support but mostly the water. He watches you, his jaw dropping as his fingers start moving with purpose as the searing pleasure overwhelms and electrifies your nerves, starting to gasp out little mewls for him no more than two minutes after they started their pattern.

You leant in to kiss him but he keeps your forehead glued to his, turning away from your quivering bottom lip when you lean in again. “No, I know, I just wanna watch your pretty fucking face fall apart for me,” he whispers, his eyes raking across your increasingly ruined form. “Jesus your pussy is so fucking wet f’me. Did checking me out really get you this hot n’ bothered, baby?”

Your eyes start to close, fading out as that similar heat starts to build low in your stomach, as slow as his circles on your clit are, the impending orgasm is rushing at you in a record speed.

Your eyes jolt open as he shoves a long digit in as he barks out, “Nuh-uh.” You’re even more weightless as you practically float on his finger, jaw dropped as his actions have completely halted. “Keep those pretty eyes open and on me, got it?”

“Okay,” you whimper, clenching around the digit three knuckles deep.

“Good, good,” Eddie mutters, slowly moving his finger, watching your face carefully. “Jesus, you’re tight,” he bites out, adding a second finger without any warning. You sob through a little moan, the skin of his shoulders dimpling around your nails as they dug into it.

Slowly your moans have gotten louder, the temptation to allow your eyes to flutter closed fizzling at your vision but you push through it, bobbing up and down in the water in sync with his arm, giving your weight completely to him.

Your tongue laps across your bottom lip easily into a bite, still watching his face with his eyes on yours, what was just half a grin now spread into a manic smile. “You’re being so fucking good for me, sweetheart, just like you have all weekend. You take my fingers so well, can’t wait to see how you fucking take my cock.”

A whimper gasps through your lips, spasming around his fingers at his deliciously filthy words. “Fuck–Eddie–p-please–”

“See, making you moan my name wasn’t so hard,” Eddie whispers right as he leans in to capture your lips in his. His thumb starts rotating on your clit, quickly flooding you with an orgasm that you weren’t even aware you were that close to.

Eddie’s lips muffle the cry that otherwise would’ve been heard by the entire neighborhood, a shout of pure ecstasy that has you writhing up against his strong chest.

Your lips let go of his in a gasping breath, your lip trembling your elbows dig into the delicate skin between his ear and shoulder, pulling him closer as you bore into those big brown eyes. They’re as dark as the night sky yet they shine just as bright as the stars.

Smile lines and dimples are present as he stares up at you, his thumb still rotating slowly and fully responsible for the shaking of your poor thighs. His fingers are still in you, nestled and happy as he feels you flutter around them.

“You,” he drawls, slowly moving his fingers, “are radiant,” you can barely focus on the next kiss he seeks from you, your thighs clinging onto his hips, the momentum building even quicker and hotter than before.

“Oh m’god,” you whimper, throwing all your weight on one forearm as you suddenly have to get his fingers out, its too-too fucking much. “Ed–fuck!”

“You can take it,” he mumbles, one arm across your back as he peppers wet sloppy kisses along your collarbone. “Right? You can handle one more little orgasm.”

You buck into his hips as a silent confirmation, the splashing water around your forms loud from all your thrashing.

The kisses along your collarbone have moved south, the sudden scrape of his teeth against the curve of your breast a welcome shock as he starts to peel back the soaked fabric now glued to your skin like latex. “Look at these fuckin’ perfect tits,” Eddie growls, his hand movements turned sloppy as he wraps his tongue around the peaked nipple.

The added sensation clouds your head, bucking against him and practically sobbing into little whines while he perfectly works you like he already knows you.

“That’s it, fuck yourself on my fingers, you look so good like this, baby,” the praise lights your body ablaze, clutching onto him tighter.

Oddly enough the thing to send you over the edge again was a long lick up your sternum, an image you’ve seen time and time again on the edge of his guitar. Stars crash into your vision, knocking you senseless as you tug him in for a kiss, more teeth than lips as your legs shake but the giggles bubble out from your chest.

“Just one more?” He smirks, adding, Jesus, a third fucking finger.

“Eddie–” you startle, choking on your own oxygen.

“I really need to repay you,” he mutters, starting back on your jawline.

“Repay me?” You manage out, choking back a near shout when he curls his fingers just so.

He nods, focusing a toxic mix of his tongue and teeth against your racing pulse. “Mmhm. Repay you for every little time you managed to make me rock hard.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t worry.” he laughs, gnawing down your shoulder line. “I couldn’t repay you for every time, you’d be here for hours. And we both just found out how quick I can make you cum.”

You gulp, barely able to think through any of what he had just told you. “I-huh?”

“Jus’ one more, baby? Jus’ one more after being relentlessly teased by those fucking thighs of yours? Your pretty tits? That chokable neck–baby fuck you really make me fucking crazy–” his voice has somehow gone from commanding back to whining, his voice drowning in pure, needy, wanting.

“You are–” you start, cut off by a kiss he throws in as he becomes restless in his motions, “you are going to be the–” you giggle as he kisses you again, nipping at your bottom lip. “Ah–the end of me.”

“You fuckin’ like it, don’t you?” He laughs, one hand spread on the back of your neck as his eyes remain on yours. “You love how much my fingers can ruin you.”

“Your–your voice,” you choke out, eyes rolling into the back of your head. “Your voice does a lot-a lot a lot-of the work.”

He chuckles darkly, curling his fingers against your g-spot impossible harder, an impossible fire somehow hurling through your pussy still submerged in the pool. “I think I know why Hell’s Angels is your favorite album, hmm? It is a very carnal album.”

You giggle, somehow more cognitive. “My number one most played on Spotify.”

Eddie huffs out a chorus of laughter, leaning down to lick a wide fat stripe up your neck. “That is so fucking hot to me.” You shiver, blinded by the roll of ecstasy that just ran through you. “Would you believe I am just as obsessed with you?”

“It-it’s a high bar,” you admit, peeling your other arm out of its bra strap to completely expose yourself.

“Oh my god you’re fucking adorable,” Eddie hums, nibbling all down your chin, his lips seemingly unable to rest as they roam around you. “Now fucking cum for me so we can get out of this pool and I can finally fuck you.”

Something that’s only been possible under perfect circumstances while bonding with a vibrator occurs, you squirt all over his hand following a sudden heat that boils in your skin and acts like an anchor in your body weighing you down. The weightlessness water usually brings to you has disappeared swiftly, clinging onto him as he peels his fingers from where they sat still nestled as they finished working you through it.

He reciprocates the tight hug you give him, strong arms holding you close to his chest as your legs still spasm and quake.

“That’s my good girl,” he whispers encouragingly, gently petting your dampened hair. “C’mere, I’m gonna see if I–” he grunts, the muggy air engulfing you whole as he lifts you up onto the edge of the pool as if you weighed nothing, winking playfully as he lifts himself out.

“Ok, you obviously lift,” you mumble, being tugged by his hands and escorted into the house, leaving only the still lit embers of the pit and the scattered ingredients and clothes behind.

He chuckles, momentarily squeezing you as he wraps his arms and clasps them together in front of your torso. “Please, you weigh nothing.”

He stays like that every step on the cement to your house, playfully nipping at your neck, tickling it with his deep breaths until you reach the threshold of the double doors. Eddie lets go of you, watching your ass for a moment, your hand yanked by his hand in yours as he leans against the island kitchen counter.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he doesn’t give you a chance to respond, tilting your head as he lays a wet one on you.

“U-upstairs–” you sigh as he interrupts you again, magical, only the smell of beer left over but his lips so nice and plump.

“I don’t think so,” he mumbles, working his other arm around your torso to single handedly undo the bra clasp. It falls from your chest,Eddie eagerly kneading his hand on your left tit, two fingers playing with the nipple as you sigh into his mouth.

A whimper passes through your lips, gyrating your hips against his needily as you crave more friction despite your greedy cunt still soaked from its three releases. “Well then hurry up,” you huff, starting to play with the band of his boxers. “Can’t wait much longer.”

Your panties are yanked down, landing on the floor with a wet plop. Eddie lifts you effortlessly onto the counter, working his tented fabric against you roughly, watching your jaw drop as he rolls his hips against yours. “Please.”

“I would tell you to be patient but ever since I heard you yesterday I can’t think of anything else, baby,” Eddie sighs as you pull down his boxers, gasping as it bounces against his taut belly.

A sudden urge fills you to have its weight on your tongue, the girth down your neck, to fill your throat, the primal need alerting you as you never knew wanting a cock like this so badly was even possible. By pure instinct you reach out to grab him, basking in the moan he chokes out.

His voice could satiate a hungry belly, if you had one.

His previous confession suddenly sparks, looking up at him curiously as you work your hand along his devious length. “What did you hear yesterday?”

“Baby, your house has some thin fucking walls,” he husks out, watching your eyes go bug wide in the revelation. “I didn’t hear anything but moaning, but if it's any constellation, I hope you were thinking about me, because I sure as shit was thinking about you right outside your bedroom.”

You start to guide his leaky tip toward your mound, biting your lip as you peer up at him with doe eyes. “Please?”

“Were you?”

You sob out of desperation, your forehead landing on his shoulder. “Eddie, please–”

“Patience, slut.” You pause, pouting as you look up at him. “Were you thinkin about me while you greedily came over and over again?”

You nod, biting your lip anxiously as you glance down to his length only mere inches away from your weeping, begging entrance. “You used your tongue on the soft serve like it was–”

“I know I did, baby.” Eddie smirks, watching the shiver roll through you as the head collides with your clit. “So glad you noticed.”

You sigh impatiently, clawing your nails into his shoulder as he continues to tease you. “Eddie, pl–”

Your pathetic begging is turned off as soon as he pushes in, splitting you open as he slowly works his way to the hilt. “Jesus.”

“Eddie,” you moan, the heels of your hands digging into his collarbone. “F-fuck!”

His dark eyes bore into yours, labored breath piercing the air in the otherwise deadly quiet house. “I fuckin’ knew your pussy would be like this.”

“Like what?” You ask, pulling him closer as he did with you.

“Like a fuckin’ drug,” Eddie growls, rolling his hips against yours, the symphony of moans swallowed as he crashes his lips onto yours with an almost angry force.

It begins with a few stings, but the pleasure drowns it out before you even get a chance to revel in it, his cock hitting places you didn’t even know possible.

Your legs cling onto him, lapping kisses and nibbles down his chest hungrily as he works into you with choked out moans, seemingly losing himself in the heat of your pussy.

You slowly bruise your way down his chest, remembering every time you’d ever said how badly you’d wanted to bite him and to mark your territory as yours. All through the night he has called you his girl, but you finally get the chance to claim him. “Mine.”

“Feelin possessive, are we, baby?” He gasps out, curling his fingers through your hair and pulling at your scalp.”Wanting to claim this old man all yours?”

“You’re all fucking mine, Ed,” you claim again, moving to lap at one of his peaked nipples.

“As long as you’re mine,” he gasps back, pulling your head back up to where you can kiss him again.

You nod eagerly, the double meanings of the words seemingly lost on you to what he actually might mean. Regardless, the following kiss is desperate, even more so as his hips continue on their relentless pace.

You whine at the sudden loss, feeling empty and lonely when his body warmth leaves yours for the moment. “Bend over the fucking couch.”

It takes a minute to register, floating on the kitchen counter in a daze.

“Awww, my cock drunk slut,” his voice is sweet, malevolently so as his fingers dig into your hair and pull on your scalp as he leans in against your ear. “I said, bend over the fucking couch.”

You whimper, scrambling to climb down and run shakily to the living room. You’re guided by his hand in your hair again to the arm rest, using his foot to widen your stance. “Arch your back. More. There you go. Now be a good slut and tell me how fucking good it feels to be ripped in half by the rockstar of your dreams.”

Eddie lets go of your scalp to smack your ass, the thwack startling you in the best of ways as he watches it jiggle from the force. “Shove your face into the pillow, there we go.”

No more warning is provided when he pushes himself into you, making what you used to think was hard and fast into slow and pathetic. Eddie’s relentless hips are in their own fucking league. He sirens primal moans from you, your fingers digging into the cushions as he pounds into your pussy relentlessly.

“I just started, and you’ve already gone completely dumb? God I’ve ruined you for every bad fuck you’ve ever had.”

It’s true. Eddie Munson has ruined you in ways you simply could not comprehend, your torso practically flat on the couch as he tightens his grip on your hips. You push your ass against him, somehow communicating how fucking much you need him.

“Bet you’ve dreamed of this, yeah?” He mocks as his grip tightens on your hip. “Well for the last three nights I guess I returned the favour because I have dreamt of nothing but you. What you’d sound like, what you’d look like, god what you’d taste like— you’re in my fucking head.”

Your knees dig into his legs, your toes curled close to your ass as they possibly can be as you feel the impact of his hips start to form an ache against your thighs, your cheeks, fuck–your hole. Regardless of the spreading throb, you squeeze him tighter, silently begging for more. Just when you thought you understood what the term fucked stupid meant, you realize you had no idea as your brain starts to turn into mush.

“You’re taking it so fucking well, princess,” fuck, usually princess is a massive turn off but even you could tell the immediate reaction of you gushing around him. “Likes bein’ called princess, hmm? Give me your arm, then, princess.”

It’s a reflex how your hand raises backwards toward him, limply hanging as high as it can go which is barely a foot over your torso.

“Good, other one, too,” you whine, cut off by a sharp thrust as he grabs your other wrist to hold them both together in one hand. You think you’ve gotten the new position figured out when one hand moves up to your forearm, yanking it harshly so he has his good arm slotted between your elbows and the small of your back. “There we go.”

You’re practically standing on your two feet again, your back arched at an impossible angle as his other hand wraps itself around your neck. “Aah, that's much better. Look up.”

Your eyes flutter up to see a small round accent mirror on the wall directly across from you on the wall directly above a record player, yours and Eddie’s reflection featuring your faces, your hair tussled and eyes dazed. You blink to Eddie’s who’s smirking over your shoulder with hot cheeks and half-mooned eyes. You shyly look way from his possessive hold, having pulsed around him at how fucking gone you both look.

“Look back in the fucking mirror,” he commands, tightening his once lax grip on your neck so he constricts your airway just the littlest bit. “Look how fucking gone you are, you’re just covered in me, hmm?”

All you can do is bite your lip and push back on him, begging for his hips to continue that oh so powerful trek.

The following movement of his hips are barely noticeable, but your reflection gasps, her jaw dropping to the needed friction. “Ed–”

“Keep being my good princess and watch yourself be fucked in the mirror for me, won’t you sweet girl?” You nod, but Eddie doesn’t seem to care to wait for your answer, his hips colliding with your in a harsh slap, officially rendering any left over brain you might have had completely useless.

“Look at your fucking pretty face,” he shudders, starting to sound quite desperate himself. “There’s not a thought behind those gorgeous eyes of yours. Every muscle on your face is relaxed, your jaw falling open as if begging for me to shove my cock past those lips of yours, fuck you look so fucking perfect for me, princess.”

Your brain begs you to say something, to tell him how fucking good his cock feels, how he’s splitting you open as he feels impossibly deep as if he were kissing your cervix with every hit, how sex like this was only supposed to exist in softcore porn. How watching yourself get stupider with every hit with his hand wrapped around your neck in a claim of ownership turns you the fuck on, adding fuel to an out of control forest fire.

But your brain has turned into a puddle.

“That’s it, baby, keep bein’ good for me I’m almost done,” he lets go of your neck just to grab a handful of your hair once again. “G’nna fill that fuckin pussy up, s’ that ok?”

You find it in you somewhere to nod yes in direct juxtaposition against the grip on you, vision now fizzling as your eyes slowly fall closed. Whatever you have ever wasted time fantisizing clearly will never live up to the real thing.

Eddie’s words have warped into grunts and half finished sentences, hitting somewhere deliciously deep until his sticky ropes cover your walls up in him, filling you to the brim to make you impossibly, impossibly full.

He works himself through it, whimpering at his own sensitivities when the arm clutching yours sets you free but works itself on your clit once more, jerking you up from where you crumpeled forward onto the couch.

“Just need to feel you squeeze my cock while you cum, princess,” he mutters, sounding utterly destroyed as his voice croaks.

You try to wiggle away from him, feeling so oversensitive it forces its way up your throat in an intense sob. “Too-too much!”

“I know you can take it, princess,” he drawls, darkening his voice in the way he knows you like.

“Ed–”

“Please, jus’ for me?” He asks, his grip on your hip too tight for you to keep crawling forward.

“I-I c–” stars crash in your vision, thrashing as you feel his strong torso directly against your back.

“See?” he mumbles, peeling his arm around your tummy as he maneuvers you and him on your sides, spooning you on the couch, both covered in sweat. Eddie lifts your chin in his grip, shoving his tongue down your throat, the vibration of his humming helping you come back down to earth. “I knew you could do it.”

Somewhere in the kisses he slips himself out, distracting you with his marvelous kissing expertise as his hands find themselves enwrapping yours, fingers intertwined against your sternum fiercely as you get lost in his taste. Eventually you need to catch your breath, gasping as your head lands on the fabric of the sofa roughly, slowly drifting off to sleep.

Eddie gets up, ignoring your calls to stay with you. After some loud rummaging and swearing he returns, shocking you with a yelp as a wet cloth cleans you from the dripping cum out your full pussy. “Sorry. Didn’t want to ruin the nice couch.”

“Think we past ruined long ago,” you comment, peering up at him as he sends you a soft smile.

“Might be true.”

First thing you notice is he’s gotten dressed again, and just like that the spell is broken, and the aftermath of your adventures settle in.

His brown eyes tentatively meet yours, pensive and careful as you slowly sit up on the couch. What now?

He wears no smile on his face, searching yours as he leans in, his pointer finger hooked under your chin as he plants a gentle kiss on your lips that makes you miss the feel of him already. “I’m definitely not tired, would you like to watch a movie with me?”

You nod, eyes still closed as you reel from the whiff of emotions that repeatedly compound through you. “I don’t think I can stand.”

“I’d be insulted if you could,” he huffs, planting a sweet kiss on your nose. “Be right back. You want sweatpants or something more akin to those pretty dresses you’ve been flouncing around in?”

“Hmm, happy middle, please,” you ignore his jab, if just for the obvious amusement in his voice.

“Aah, a thong and a necklace coming up,” he jokes, running up the stairs before you could playfully glare at him.

He brings you a matching tank and shorts and a light blanket, setting up Smile for you two to watch as he curled you into his chest. When the movie is over you glance up at him, worried for what exactly came out his mouth next.

We probably should keep it as a one time only event.

You reluctantly agreed, crawling into a too big bed as you already miss his comforting weight right next to you. Sleep never comes, in fact, sleep has stopped texting you back because you have never been more wide awake.

Sweat seeps through the sheets and shines on your forehead as you wrap yourself up in an accidental burrito from all the turning and tossing, your emotions one puddle, thundering and storming into a lake of aroused confusion and clouded judgment as your weekend plays on repeat.

By the time the sky shines a periwinkle blue once again you’ve decided you could not take it for two more seconds, impulsively getting up to run back across the hall.

The door opens to a wildly disheveled head of curls, his hand raised as if he was about to knock. His mouth opens but you don’t give him the chance to tell you Yeah, no, fuck that, because your lips are on his in a flash, arms recklessly thrown around his shoulders and pulling him into your bedroom for some more of his lips, his hands, his hips, his tongue.

Neither of you had enough resolve to decide it would only be a one time thing.

-

Six Months Later

Eddie huffed a few bouts of laughter as you litter kisses all over his neck, refusing to listen to his out of breath protests as you nuzzle into his intoxicating stubble. “Babe, babe! I have to take a shower, I fucking stink!”

You giggle, working your hands up his fishnet shirt layered under the graphic tee. “Mhmm,” you hum, lapping up some rank sweat that has built up at the hinge of his jaw. “Smells amazing.”

“You’re a fucking freak, have I ever told you that?” He laughs, intertwining his fingers through your hair as he shoves his tongue down your throat.

“You’ve mentioned it,” you sigh, gasping against his minty breaths. “Helps having a smoking hot boyfriend, you know?”

“Baby, I really need a shower, I will meet you in the lounge,” he sighs, sounding like he’s about to give up.

“I could join you,” you suggest, pulling him in closer against you.

“As tempting as that is, we both know neither of us are getting any cleaner if that happens,” he sternly holds your face at a distance from his, his eyebrow flickering up pointedly when you attempt to lean in for more. “I promise to fuck you into the mattress, against the couch, and wherever else you might want later, okay, my sweet princess?”

“Fine,” you huff, grinning against his lips at the final sweet kiss he gives you, at the shivers down your spine that have never stopped, that have never shown signs of stopping.

The dressing room door closes behind you as the spray of the water hits the shower floor, a taunt that you are not in the cramped space with him, the one place you crave.

After offering his bandmates your best compliments, you act as a wallflower, watching the moon-eyed fans get their selfies as you played with the guitar pick chained around your wrist. You scrolled through your twitter app, saving photos of your gorgeous boyfriend in quality photos and the litter of hickeys you had spent hours giving him for hours the previous night.

A sudden impossible yet familiar laugh fills the air, your eyes snapping up to your dad’s familiar swoop of brown locks tossed back in a full body chuckle. Your stomach falls into the pits of hell.

You had checked with Eddie before hand that Steve hadn’t gotten any tickets emailed to him to avoid this very particularly sticky situation. You had agreed to keep it quiet until it started getting more serious.

Well…it had turned serious but you knew for a fact your dad wouldn’t be too happy with the coupling.

Your eyes jolt around the room to look for a quick escape, forgetting there’s only one door in, and unless you were going to turn unrealistically stealthy in the next minute, sneaking past him was not an option.

Your hesitation turns out to be your doom, just as you make a choice his brown eyes landed on you, lighting up in surprise.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Sunshine!” He calls out, holding his arms out and reaching for a hug. “What are you doing here? Thought you were staying with your roommate for the week!”

You had specifically told him you were stuck with your roommate who was getting over an ex boyfriend. The ex boyfriend part was right, but you were assisting from afar, with your own boyfriend luring you off the phone.

You hug him back, a wave of guilt washing over you, unable to relax in his familiar arms. “I made it down last minute!” The lie is forced, reminding you of times you knew you were caught but chose to dig deeper rather than climb out.

Sometimes it's just easier that way.

Steve’s brows furrow, crossing his arms just as something occurs to him. “How-how did you even make it down so quickly, I just called you this morning—“

He is interrupted by a familiar set of arms thrown around you from behind, squeezing you tight until you weasel out of them, your nerves on a hotwire.

For a moment that stretches out, lasting forever enough for you to see the V between Steve’s brow deepen, his head tilting ever so slightly, a slight frown downturning his lips.

And the panic that shifts every muscle of Eddie’s face when he sees Steve.

Finally, things set back into motion as puts on a facade of surprise, well not a facade as he’s actually surprised, he certainly knows how to put on a face of delight.

“Steve, my boy!” He collides his chest with his best friend, back pats exchanged as they embrace one another. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

Steve shrugs, his hands slotted into his pockets once they separate. “You didn’t answer my email, but Gareth did.”

When you switch your gaze to the drummer, he winks, telling you he has been paying attention to the shit show the entire time.

A few beats in the conversation, Steve starts to wonder if he was making everything up in his head, if he was just imagining your awkward stances and the way you’re standing just an inch too far away from one another.

Because there is no other reason you’d have to lie.

But all the little things keep sticking out to him. Your disheveled hair, in a way that couldn’t be manufactured. A bruise on Eddie’s neck, no bruises, but this one seemed familiar—

Steve’s eyes dart to your smudged lipstick, just barely fixed.

The fidgeting of a bracelet around your wrist, your anxious swaying, Eddie’s nervous rambling.

The way Eddie rushed to hug you like an old friend yet can’t seem it dare keep his eyes on you longer than a second.

”Eddie Munson, tell me you are not hooking up with my daughter.”

-

Oop.

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This is the last chapter hope y’all loved 😭

[edenesth]

TWTHH Spinoff: Take Me Away [2]

Pairing: private investigator!Wooyoung x courtesan!reader

AU: historical au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 7.7k

Trigger Warnings: forced prostitution, brief mention of suicidal thoughts, attempted sexual assault

Summary: While working on a new case in town, Wooyoung was captivated when he stumbled upon a beauty unlike any other. Just as he began to believe that he might have found a Lady Park of his own, word got out that she was merely the newest courtesan at the town's brothel. Disheartened by this revelation, he nearly abandons his pursuit of her until he hears whispers suggesting that she may not have been there of her own will.

Part 1 | Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist

"So, that's what happened... My lord, I realise it might seem shameless of me to have declined the bonus before and now ask for it, but I must save her!" Wooyoung pleaded, recounting everything from the beginning: from the moment he bumped into you on the street—alright, he might have left out the part where he was infatuated like a schoolboy and moping around like a fool—to discovering the truth about your situation, and the recent visit he had paid you.

Before the general could offer reassurance, another voice interrupted from the entrance of the study, beating him to it, "Hwa, we have to help him! The poor thing must be scared out of her mind!"

All three men turned their heads to find Lady Park standing there, her eyes wide with worry as she entered the room. Seonghwa didn't hesitate to rush to his wife's side before wrapping an arm securely around her smaller frame, "What are you doing here, my love? It's late, you should be resting."

The private investigator felt his breath catch as he beheld his former dream girl. He'd be lying if he said he didn't miss her. She looked even more beautiful than before, if that were possible, seemingly glowing. Perhaps that was the effect of receiving the general's affection. He had to calm his foolish heart and maintain his composure as he rose from his seat to bow respectfully to her, watching as she offered him a warm smile in response.

"I couldn't sleep when Jongho told me Wooyoung was here. I got worried and had to come see if everything was alright," the lady said, addressing her husband as she pouted at him, "Please tell me you're going to agree to his request..."

Seonghwa chuckled, gently nuzzling his nose against her head before planting a tender peck there, "I was going to agree, but you came in just in time to cut me off," He turned to face the younger man, who looked at them with a mix of admiration and gratitude, "Don't worry, Wooyoung. We'll provide all the assistance you need. If you'd like, I can send Jongho along with you on this mission."

The assistant felt his cheeks flush at the unexpected offer. He couldn't fathom sneaking into a place like a brothel, even for such an important cause. Fortunately, the investigator declined with a shake of his head, sensing his friend's apprehension, "No, sir. That won't be necessary, your financial assistance is all I require for now. This is something I must accomplish on my own."

Lady Park nodded, speaking on behalf of her husband, "Alright, but if you require anything—anything at all—please don't hesitate to ask. We'll do everything in our power to support you."

"Thank you, my lady. I'll keep that in mind; I really appreciate it," Wooyoung replied with a deep bow. If his current situation hadn't been so urgent, he might have remarked on how unusually attentive the general was to her. Seonghwa was always by her side, but there was something different in the carefulness of the way he handled her.

"If that's all, we'll be turning in for the night," the newly married man announced as he guided his wife out of the room.

The investigator nodded quickly, "Of course. I've kept you both up long enough; please don't let me stop you."

"Come, my love. You need rest."

Before leaving the room completely, the lady turned back to Wooyoung again, her expression earnest, "Promise me you'll get her out of there," the younger man nodded firmly, "I promise, my lady."

As Lady Park's words lingered in the air, Wooyoung sensed the depth of her plea. He discerned the subtle pain reflected in her eyes, a silent acknowledgement passing between them. The general's wife seemed to grasp the anguish of being trapped in a relentless nightmare all too well, to be abandoned by one's own father.

His resolve to save you had already been firm, but now, fueled by the lady's empathy, his determination surged even stronger. It wasn't just about a silly crush anymore; it became a quest to right a grave injustice and bring solace to a soul in torment.

After the couple retired to their private quarters, Wooyoung stayed behind to devise a more comprehensive plan with the ever-meticulous Jongho, who had once been his greatest asset when they were gathering evidence against the former Minister Jang. With precision, the assistant outlined all his suggestions in a neatly drafted plan, folding the parchment into a perfect rectangle before handing it to the investigator.

"Here, decide which ones suit your situation the best. Just let me know how much you require, and I'll take care of all your transactions. You should probably head to the dressmaker's shop for your disguise as soon as possible if you wish to set those plans into motion the following night."

"Thanks, Jongho. You're a real one."

"Yeah, yeah. Just go."

In no time, Wooyoung arrived at the entrance of Hongjoong's shop, cautiously stepping inside while marvelling at the colourful hanboks on display. He braced himself for a possible lecture from the older man, knowing that he was already swamped with orders, not just from Lady Park, but from noblewomen all over town. And here the investigator was, about to place an urgent special order that needed to be fulfilled before the next nightfall.

His steps halted abruptly upon hearing the familiar, annoyed sound of a throat clearing from the back of the shop, "Jung Wooyoung, you'd better have a good explanation for welcoming yourself into my shop at such an early hour," came the gruff voice.

"H-hyung, listen... I know the last thing you want is to see my face first thing in the morning, but—"

"Damn right, I don't. So, get straight to the point. There better be a valid reason for your presence, or I'll see to it that you're banned from entering my shop for good."

Arms crossed over his chest, Hongjoong listened with a raised brow as the younger man swiftly retold the tale he'd shared with the general just hours earlier. Rather than reacting as seriously as expected, the dressmaker merely grinned teasingly, "Ahh, I see you've finally moved on from your little crush on Lady Park, huh? I hate to admit this, but I guess I am feeling slightly proud of you."

Wooyoung couldn't hide his unamused expression as he pursed his lips in disbelief, "Really? That's the only thing you can think of saying after everything I just told you?"

With a scoff, the older man snatched the parchment out of the investigator's hands, "Yes, and? Don't get sassy with me now. Show me the design you need done immediately, or you can figure out how to go about this on your own."

"Okay, okay, sheesh. Here's a sketch of the design I've seen on the male servants in the brothel. Fortunately, it's not too complicated, so it should be easy for you," the younger man said, handing over the sketch as he watched Hongjoong inspect it seriously, "Got it. This should be done in a few hours. You owe me a meal after this, Jung."

The investigator saluted playfully, "Yes, sir."

Noticing the exhaustion evident in Wooyoung's eyes, the older man softened, "You haven't slept a wink, have you? You look like you're about to keel over. Go take a nap in the back; there's a bed. I'll wake you when it's ready. We can't afford for you to pass out on the job. Poor Miss Han won't stand a chance if that happens."

Though he joked, the younger man sensed the concern behind his words. He nodded gratefully, "Thanks, hyung."

Once his head hit the pillow, he slipped into a deep sleep, just as Hongjoong had predicted. Since leaving you the previous night, his mind had been consumed with endless thoughts, meticulously crafting an elaborate plan to rescue you. He examined every detail, acutely aware that even the smallest mistake could jeopardise the entire operation. Failure was not an option, especially when it concerned you. He had made a promise to get you out, and he was resolute in keeping it. But for now, he would succumb to his exhaustion, if only for a brief respite.

I'll be there soon, Miss Han.

He awoke hours later, his sleep haunted by dreams of your frightened face pleading for him to save you. The dressmaker stood at the edge of the bed, gently shaking him awake, holding out the disguise, "How's this? Is it close enough to the real thing?"

With a groggy rub of his eyes, Wooyoung pulled himself up to sit. He blinked repeatedly to clear his vision, then turned his attention to the replica of the servant uniform laid out before him. As he examined it, his eyes widened at how closely it resembled the actual outfit.

"It's perfect, hyung," he declared, nodding in approval, "They'll never suspect a thing."

"This way, Mr. Jung. She's ready for you."

Today felt different from the first day. The emotions swirling inside you were no longer tinged with dread or overwhelming fear.

Instead, anticipation coursed through you as you sat straight on the king-sized bed in the same room. Biting your lip, you waited eagerly to see him again. Since he last bid you goodbye, your thoughts had been consumed by him. The sincerity in his eyes lingered in your mind, nearly bringing tears to your own. It was hard to believe that someone cared for you so deeply, especially considering your own father's indifference. Despite this, part of you still had doubts, wondering if you would ever see him again.

Yet, here he was, keeping his promise.

"Hi, Miss Han," he greeted, almost shyly, as he waved awkwardly by the entrance. After closing the door behind him, he made his way to the table in the centre of the room, setting down the duffel bag he'd been carrying on his shoulder.

You smiled meekly, approaching him, "Hello, Mr. Jung. It's good to see you again."

His smile faltered slightly at your words. He sensed the surprise in your tone as if you hadn't expected him to return, and it hurt him to think you might not trust him fully. With determination, he nodded and reassured you, "Of course, I promised to get you out of here. You'll be seeing a lot more of me from now on."

Your eyes widened in wonder as he unfurled his bag, revealing a set that looked like an exact replica of the uniform worn by the male servants in the Mansion of Midnight, "Woah, where did you get that?" you asked, curious and astonished.

With an enthusiastic beam, he replied, "It's all part of my job. I often need to wear disguises. With this, I'll be able to move around the establishment without any issues. Now, if you'll excuse me."

Blushing furiously, you turned away immediately as he hastily moved to undress and change into the servant outfit.

Your cheeks burned as you struggled to recover from catching a glimpse of his bare back. He seemed so calm, as if undressing was the most natural thing in the world. But for you, it was a different story. Being a virgin through and through, you hadn't been near any men other than your father all your life. Even then, he wasn't home most of the time.

To be in a room alone with a man like this, and for him to get changed so casually before you, was enough to fluster you. You had barely spoken to any boys up close before this, let alone in a situation like this. The unexpected moment left you feeling both intrigued and embarrassed, unsure of how to act or what to say next.

Before you could further overthink it, Wooyoung proudly announced, "Alright, I'm done!" Startled, you turned to see him looking just like one of the many servants in the brothel, though perhaps a bit too handsome to blend in seamlessly. Nonetheless, you hoped no one would pay too much attention to him.

Stuffing his own clothes back into the bag on the table, he assured you, "You stay here. I'll be back as soon as I can. Today, I'll work on figuring out the full layout of the entire place and create a detailed map before I start investigating their operations."

You nodded, feeling a mix of apprehension and gratitude, "Don't worry, I'll be right here. Be safe out there, Mr. Jung."

With a final smile directed at you, he sneaked out the same way he entered once he was sure the coast was clear, leaving you alone in the room, your thoughts swirling with anticipation and anxiety.

After the investigator departed, you sank back onto the bed, feeling a rush of embarrassment flood over you. You scolded yourself mentally for being such a child, recognising that now was not the time for such distractions. Contemplating the situation, you understood why he seemed so unaffected. His focus was solely on his mission, leaving little room for trivial concerns like your reaction.

Feeling foolish for allowing yourself to be so affected, you resolved to move past it. What truly mattered was for his plan to succeed, and for you to finally gain freedom from this place. And to do so, you braced yourself for more moments like that.

As hours passed with you sitting alone, worrying about whether or not his disguise remained undetected, you heard footsteps approaching from outside. Your heart leapt with hope, anticipating his return, only for it to plummet when you recognised the feminine silhouette through the paper walls.

It wasn't just any female; it was Iseul.

Oh god, what is she doing here?

Her intentions became clear as she called out to Wooyoung in a seductive tone, "Mr. Jung, are you truly enjoying yourself in there? Your silence speaks volumes. I had my doubts, and now they're confirmed. A man who is enjoying himself wouldn't be able to keep his voice down; I'd know that. I told you she wouldn't be able to satisfy you. It's not too late to change your mind, you know? I'll treat you much better, trust me."

In a panic, you decided to speak up, hoping to persuade her to leave you alone, "I-Iseul unnie, everything is fine! Please don't worry about Mr. Jung. I'm sure you have plenty of clients waiting for you."

She scoffed dismissively, "Oh, please, stay out of this, rookie. I wasn't speaking to you. You'd better keep quiet if you know what's good for you. I'll leave only when he tells me to. What say you, Mr. Jung?" Your anxiety escalated as you felt her suspicions intensify with each passing moment of the private investigator's silence. This could all end if she so much as pushed the door open. Who knew what consequences awaited you and Wooyoung if you were found out?

"Mr. Jung...? Why isn't he responding? What have you done to him, Han?! If he doesn't answer by the count of three, I'm coming in, do you understand?"

As Iseul's threat escalated, Wooyoung suddenly appeared through the room window right on time, catching you off guard. Aware of the risk of being seen in his disguise while with you, he swiftly shed the servant outfit, leaving himself shirtless.

With the door starting to creak open, panic surged within you. Acting on instinct, you quickly tugged open the outer layer of your hanbok and pulled Wooyoung onto the bed with you. Without a second thought, you pressed your lips firmly against his, the only action that seemed to make sense in the heat of the moment.

Almost spontaneously, he wrapped his arms around you, drawing you closer and kissing you back with fervour, doing everything in his power to make the act appear convincing to the senior courtesan.

"M-Mr. Jung...?" she croaked, her eyes widening in disbelief at the unexpectedly intimate sight before her.

Breaking away from the kiss, he turned to her with a feigned look of annoyance, protectively using his body to shield your partially undressed form, "Excuse me, but what exactly do you think you're doing in here? My silence should have been clear enough that I'm not interested in you or your services. What's so difficult to understand? Also, I'd show Miss Han more respect if I were you. If you don't leave us at once, I'll file a major complaint against you. I'm sure that wouldn't help your reputation now, would it?"

With clenched fists, Iseul stormed out of the room, her pride wounded beyond repair, "I'll get you back for this. Just you wait, Han."

Once she was gone, the two of you jumped apart, red-faced as you scrambled to put your clothes back on. Clearing your throats, you tried to push aside the awkwardness and ignore the rapid beating of your hearts. The investigator reached into his bag, retrieving a fresh parchment. He distracted himself by immediately sketching the layout of the place while it was still fresh in his mind.

Throughout the evening, he remained focused on refining the map, and you stayed close, ensuring he had everything he needed: snacks, tea, a blanket in case it got chilly—anything to make yourself useful and assist him in his task. At the same time, you both fought to recover from the fact that you'd just shared your first kiss with one another so aggressively, constantly reminding yourselves that it was all for the mission to get you out and held no deeper significance.

As you escorted the investigator to the door at the end of his session, you pondered addressing the obvious elephant in the room. It became apparent that you both felt equally bothered by it when you simultaneously began to apologise.

"Look, I'm sorry for kissing you—"

"I apologise for touching you like that—"

You blinked rapidly, clearing your throat and rubbing the back of your neck sheepishly, "I suppose there might be more of that in the future if we want to succeed. Perhaps it would be wise for us to establish now that any intimate encounters we have from this point onward will be solely for the sake of the mission and nothing more."

But what if I want more than that?

Despite conflicting thoughts, Wooyoung smiled and nodded in agreement, reminding himself that exploring his attraction to you was not the priority at the moment.

The following week, the investigator faithfully honoured his daily promise, buying up all your time and effectively warding off any other potential clients. By this point, everyone in the brothel recognised you as Mr. Jung's girl. The other girls looked on with envy, marvelling at your ability to captivate the attention of such a young, handsome patron. His generosity and apparent protectiveness, as evidenced by his exclusive attention to you, sparked admiration and jealousy among them. It was as if he feared anyone else laying claim to you.

As the days went by, you grew closer, bonding over your shared time together. You developed an admiration for his profession, understanding the meticulous planning and inherent risks involved in his work. Witnessing his passion for what he did stirred emotions within you, though you struggled to define them. Was it gratitude, the joy of friendship, or something more?

Yet, amid the newfound closeness, a nagging uncertainty lingered in the back of your mind. What would happen to your relationship once he succeeded in freeing you? Would you still remain friends, or would circumstances pull you apart? The mere thought of never seeing him again left you with a pang of sadness, leaving you to ponder the depths of your feelings and the unknown future ahead.

You were startled from your thoughts as Wooyoung once again slipped in through the room window, following his routine from the past week. This time, however, he finally met your gaze with hopeful eyes. Changing out of his servant's disguise and settling back at the table, he began, "Good news, Miss Han. After digging through shady operations for so long, I finally unearthed something big. This wouldn't just be enough to secure your freedom but could also lead to the Mansion of Midnight's downfall."

"Really? What is it?" you asked, eyes wide.

He nodded, gesturing to the chair beside him, "You might want to take a seat first."

Just when you believed you had reached the limit of your trauma, another wave crashed over you. Through him, you learned the extent of the horrors perpetrated by the establishment. He cleared his throat, "I was right. Their operations are nowhere near clean. Other than forced prostitution, they're also exploiting minors, conducting illegal side businesses involving drugging clients to prolong their stay and coercing victims into settling debts, even if it meant sacrificing their own daughters... just like you."

"How despicable..." you murmured, sinking back in your seat as the weight of the revelation settled over you.

Wooyoung reached out, gently clasping your hand on the table, "It'll be alright. I promise I'll put an end to this once and for all."

Concern etched your features as you covered his hand with yours, "But Mr. Jung, what if the authorities are on their side? They must have some powerful allies to operate for so long. What if things don't go as planned? It's too risky. What if they retaliate when they find out you've uncovered so much? Who knows what they'll do to you?"

His grin widened as he rubbed a comforting thumb over your skin, "Are you concerned about me now, my lady?"

You frowned, gripping his hand tighter, "You know better than to call me that, I'm no lady."

At some point, you had grown accustomed to his mildly annoying antics as a result of the time spent together. He eventually felt comfortable enough to reveal his true self, showcasing a playful side that oddly made your heart flutter around him even more. Amidst the constant anxiety of your situation, his optimism provided a refreshing contrast. Slowly, he had become your source of solace, the only one you could rely on in this turbulent environment.

Leaning closer teasingly, he smirked, "You are to me, and that's all that matters. But that's beside the point. It's good to know you finally care enough to worry about me too."

Pushing him away gently, you clucked your tongue, "And what if I am? You... you're all I have, Jung Wooyoung," you admitted, feeling a surge of emotion as you contemplated the potential consequences of his plan failing.

Sensing you were on the verge of tears, he turned to face you properly, his heart skipping a beat at the softness in your voice when you said his name. But he didn't let it show; if you only knew what your words had done to him and his poor heart. A selfish part of him wished to be that for you forever. To be the only one you'd depend on, the only one you'd go to when you needed a shoulder to cry on, the only one you'd share all your sorrows and happiness with.

Gently grasping your shoulders, he turned you to face him, "Hey, hey, look at me. You may be right. They might have some corrupt official backing them. But don't forget who I have on my side. I have General Park, His Majesty's most trusted warrior. Who do you think holds more power here, hm?"

He couldn't help but feel a warmth spreading through him as he watched the adorable expression on your face, seeing the realisation dawn upon you as you absorbed his words. It was clear that you had momentarily forgotten about the powerful allies he possessed. This newfound confidence filled you with hope, making the idea of escaping from this place seem less like an impossible dream.

"Tomorrow is the day we're freeing you and bringing this place down. Are you ready to get out of here, my lady?" he asked, his voice filled with determination.

Returning his smile, you nodded eagerly, "I sure am, Mr. Jung."

But when tomorrow finally arrived, all your hopes and dreams came crashing down as you received the news that your usual appointment with Wooyoung had been replaced. Instead, your time had been reserved by one of the scariest clients known for his brutal force. This client, known as the Mad Dog, was infamous for leaving courtesans bruised, scarred, and unable to walk for days.

Should've known it was all going too well.

The brothel madam looked down at you with feigned pity as you trembled in fear. The staff busied themselves, fixing your hair and makeup, preparing you in an even more revealing hanbok than the usual ones you wore when meeting with the investigator.

"I'm sorry, my dear," the madam cooed rather sarcastically, "I'm not sure how the Mad Dog found out about you, especially considering how new you are. But you know what he's like; he always gets what he wants. He offered to pay twice the normal price, and who are we to say no to him? Just endure this for today. I'm sure sweet Mr. Jung will be gentle with you later on."

Without offering her a response, you fought to contain the panicked tears threatening to spill as the madam left after ensuring you stayed put. Just as the staff completed the final touches on your appearance, a smug figure materialised at the room's entrance. Looking up, you saw Iseul standing there, a smirk playing on her lips as she observed your distress.

"Congratulations, rookie," she sneered, "It's quite an accomplishment to catch the Mad Dog's eye. You've been doing so well lately, securing such a loyal client early in your career. I had to put in a good word for you." Your eyes widened in horror as you realised she had been the one to orchestrate this.

"You're welcome, Miss Han. Enjoy yourself tonight. I promise I'll take good care of Mr. Jung for you in the meantime," she added with a grin, biting her lip before slipping out the way she came.

No, please. This cannot be happening.

Seated once more on the edge of the familiar bed, tonight was different. Emotions flooded through you—fear so intense it threatened to overwhelm, and a desperate urge to jump off the building. The open window seemed to beckon, tempting you with its freedom to the afterlife. Yet, a part of you held out hope for a miracle, yearning for Wooyoung to appear through that very window and rescue you from this nightmare.

Just as you contemplated reaching for the window, your heart seized at the sound of heavy footsteps—unlike the investigator's usual light tread—approaching the room. Paralysed with fear, you could only sit and watch as the intimidating man strode in. Closing the door firmly behind him, he nodded approvingly, "I suppose I can see the appeal. You're quite the beauty, aren't you?"

His nickname, "Mad Dog," seemed fitting as you observed his nearly crazed eyes. A shiver ran down your spine as he scanned you from head to toe, making you feel exposed and violated just by his gaze alone. With his middle-aged appearance and burly build, coupled with a receding hairline and furrowed brow, he resembled a creature straight out of your worst nightmares. The mere thought of him near you turned your stomach. How could anyone possibly willingly allow him to touch them?

With a sleazy lick of his lips, he wasted no time closing the distance between you. Panic surged through you as you realised you couldn't do this. Your eyes darted to the exit, and you made a desperate dash for it, but he was faster. He let out a guttural laugh as he ensnared you in his beefy arms, "No, let me go! I refuse!" you screamed, struggling against his grasp.

"I don't think that's up to you, doll. I've paid a hefty amount for you, this better be worth it," he growled, throwing you onto the bed and tearing open the outer layer of your hanbok as if it were paper. Tears streamed down your face as you cried, "Stay away from me!" You scrambled backwards, trying to put some distance between you, only to find yourself cornered against the headboard.

"Help! Somebody, please, help me!"

"Shout all you want, sweetheart. No one's coming to save you."

Wooyoung's blood boiled as he absorbed the brothel madam's words, "What do you mean she's with another client? I've had her reserved all week. Is this how you conduct business? It seems you're not honouring my requests very well."

She let out a teasing laugh, playfully slapping him on the arm with her decorative fan, "Oh, Mr. Jung, don't be so upset. She's not with just any ordinary client; it's a valued patron we can't afford to turn away. He's paid double your usual rate. You'll have her all to yourself again by tomorrow. In the meantime, we've selected our finest girls to compensate for today. Take your pick. And just for you, we'll even offer a discount," she said, gesturing to the lineup of courtesans batting their eyelashes seductively at him.

Ignoring the courtesans, he pressed further, "And who is this client you're speaking of? I can pay triple the amount if that's what it takes for me to have Miss Han."

The other girls exchanged jealous huffs, wondering what made you so special for the investigator to be this possessive. Iseul's grin widened as she intervened, "It's the infamous Mad Dog, Mr. Jung. I'm sure you've heard of him. Unfortunately, money won't sway his desires. He's not someone we can afford to offend. Now, how about I show you a good time today? Who knows, you might find yourself forgetting all about her after this."

His heart lurched in his chest at the revelation. After meticulously gathering information about the big clients in the Mansion of Midnight, he knew the Mad Dog was the most notorious of them all. The mere thought of that abomination laying his rough hands on you filled him with a murderous rage like never before. He had promised to keep you safe and could not allow this to happen to you.

He would never forgive himself.

With only you in mind, nothing else mattered as he pushed the brothel madam aside and stormed up the stairs to your usual room, "No, wait! Mr. Jung! You cannot do this!" they called out to him, trying to stop him, but he shoved anyone in his way aside.

His blood ran cold when he heard your familiar voice crying miserably for help. Kicking the door open, he saw red and nearly went feral at the sight before him: your outer layer of hanbok torn to shreds, the skirt of your inner layer pushed up to your thighs, and the man's head buried in your neck, seemingly trying to leave his mark, trapping your arms above your head as you struggled helplessly against him.

"Get your filthy hands off her, you bastard!" Wooyoung growled, his fury fueling a surge of strength as he pulled the Mad Dog off your delicate frame, landing a punch on his cheek hard enough to send him crashing to the ground with a groan.

As he watched you immediately curl up, shaking like a leaf, his heart broke. Hastily, he draped a blanket over you, shielding you from further exposure. Meeting your tear-filled gaze, you pleaded pitifully, "Please, take me away from here."

Pressing a kiss onto your forehead, he locked eyes with you, "I promise I will. I'm here now, you're safe with me."

Relief flooded through you as his presence reassured you that he wasn't just a figment of your imagination. For a moment, you had feared he wouldn't arrive in time to save you. You knew he would come, but the thought of him being a moment too late haunted you. If he had been, you feared losing the last shred of your innocence, making you forever tainted and unworthy in his eyes. It was then that you realised your feelings for him were undeniable. It was so much more than just gratitude or the joy of friendship.

You wanted more than to be a charity case.

You wanted him.

Wanted to be with Jung Wooyoung.

"You'll regret that, boy. Do you even know who you're dealing with? You're that loyal little customer of hers, aren't you?" the monster threatened as he struggled to push himself off the ground.

The investigator held you close as you whimpered, trying to comfort you while glaring at the Mad Dog, "I am, and you'll regret messing with my woman," he asserted. Clinging to him, your heart pounded in your chest for different reasons: for his words, desperately hoping he meant them, and for fear of his safety from the man's potential wrath.

"Stop this at once, Mr. Jung! If you persist, we'll have no option but to blacklist you from our establishment," the brothel madam warned, her eyes widening in disbelief at the scene before her.

Wooyoung's smirk widened, "I'd like to see you try. I didn't want to do this the hard way, but you've given me no choice."

The Mad Dog chuckled, "And what exactly do you plan to do, kid?"

"You'll find out." With a sharp whistle aimed out the open window, a group of what appeared to be royal guards swiftly entered through the main entrance, causing everyone to freeze as they tried to comprehend the sudden turn of events.

"Is this the woman you mentioned, Investigator Jung?" the head guard inquired, pointing to the brothel madam.

"Yes, that's her," Wooyoung confirmed.

The woman froze in panic, "Wh-what is the meaning of this?"

"You, as the owner of the Mansion of Midnight, are under arrest for forced prostitution, exploiting minors, drugging patrons, and coercing victims into settling debts through illegal means," the head guard stated monotonously.

She resisted as the guards secured her arms in a tight grip, preventing her from escaping, "No, that's not true! There is an official who can vouch for the legitimacy of my business."

"If you're referring to the local magistrate who took your bribes and covered up your illegal activities, I regret to inform you that he's already in custody, awaiting trial. He didn't protect you during his interrogation," the head guard responded before instructing his comrades, "Guards, search the premises and arrest all accomplices."

"Yes, sir!" came the unified reply.

She sagged hopelessly in the grasp of the guards behind her as the rest dispersed to halt all operations and apprehend the other culprits, "H-how...?" she stammered.

Wooyoung fixed her with a stern gaze, "It appears you've truly forgotten what I do for a living and the powerful allies I have. Perhaps you should have thought twice before accepting me as a client. That was the first misstep leading to your downfall."

As the guards dragged the brothel madam out, leaving the Mad Dog panicking in his spot, he realised he had underestimated the young man before him. He hadn't known this was the famous Investigator Jung all along. Suddenly, he regretted the threats and taunts he had hurled just moments ago.

He wasn't the only one in a state of anxiety; Iseul stood wide-eyed, shaking, and attempting to sneak away unnoticed. However, the investigator's keen eye caught her every move. With a nod in their direction, a few guards swiftly stepped forward to capture them before they could flee.

"This one's guilty of sexual assault and violence against countless women, and this one has encouraged his actions," Wooyoung declared firmly, "Perhaps they could both use a good lesson in the torture chambers. I'm sure General Park would approve."

Both Iseul and the Mad Dog pleaded for forgiveness as they were dragged out of the room, their cries fading into the distance.

Thank god, it's finally over...

Overwhelmed by the torrent of emotions you just experienced, the sudden relief was enough to render you unconscious, lying limp in Wooyoung's arms. With an exhausted sigh, he cradled your head against his neck, planting a gentle kiss on your temple and whispering, "Rest now, my lady. I won't let anyone harm you again."

As you regained consciousness, you blinked and rubbed your eyes until the unfamiliar surroundings came into focus. Panic surged through you as you shot up from the bed, causing the comforter around you to slip down and reveal the high-quality sleepwear you were dressed in. In an instant, someone entered the room from the doorway. Pulling the comforter up to your chest as a shield, you cowered in fear, "Wh-where am I and who are you?" you stammered.

The elderly woman smiled warmly down at you, "Hello, Miss Han. I hope you've had a good rest. My name is Eunsook, and I'm the head maid of General Park's estate."

Your jaw dropped as you tried to process her words, "G-General Park...? As in the strongest general in all of Joseon, the King's most trusted warrior?"

The head maid chuckled and nodded, "Yes, the one and only."

"Was it Mr. Jung who brought me here?" you croaked, to which she replied, "Indeed, Investigator Jung brought you here as soon as the situation at the Mansion of Midnight had been taken care of. Would you like to see him, my dear?"

"I... I'm sure he has more important matters to attend to than to see me. He promised to free me, and he's done that... There's no more reason for him to see me," you murmured, lowering your head. As much as you longed for him, you knew better. You didn't deserve him. Even though you were now free, you still came from a humble background and had nothing to offer him.

Your head snapped up when you heard the familiar sound of tongue clucking, and you were surprised to see Wooyoung there, shaking his head disapprovingly. It turns out he had been hiding by the entrance the whole time. However, the cheeky grin on his lips betrayed his feigned disappointment. It was clear he didn't have the heart to actually lecture you; he was prepared for this. Somehow, he knew your lack of confidence would potentially get in the way of you expressing your true feelings.

"Really? After everything I've done for you, you don't think there's a reason for us to see each other anymore?" he said teasingly, "So you have no plans to repay me, hm?"

Eunsook couldn't help but giggle into her fist at your flustered expression, clearly caught off guard by the investigator's sudden appearance. The elderly woman bowed slightly, "I should probably go check on Lady Park. I'll be leaving you two alone to talk."

With a grateful nod in her direction, he approached you and settled onto the bed, facing you directly, "Tell me, do you truly believe there's no need to repay me for all the effort I invested in rescuing you?"

Avoiding his piercing gaze, you gulped, "So, what is it that you want then? As I've said, I don't have much to offer other than—"

He gently reached for your hand resting on your lap, interrupting your words. His touch was reassuring as he stroked the back of your palm as if it were second nature, "It would be great if you could start by allowing me to court you, my lady."

You gasped, meeting his eyes immediately, "What? You cannot possibly mean that, you deserve someone so much better—"

Shaking his head, he squeezed your hand gently, "That's not what I want to hear. I want to know what you want, my lady. Do you want to be with me? If not, I can leave you be, if that's what you truly wish. Your happiness is all that matters to me."

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you didn't realise tears were streaming down your cheeks until he lifted a hand to wipe them, "Tell me... what is it that you want?"

Emotions swirled within you as you felt your heart fluttering at his caring and respectful demeanour. His considerate words and actions were something you had never experienced in your life. The affection you felt for him in that moment threatened to burst from your chest.

The soft and sincere look in his eyes only deepened your emotions, causing tears to flow harder. Summoning all your courage, you dared to squeeze his hand back. What kind of fool would you be to push him away now? You couldn't bear to let him down, nor were you selfless enough to let him go.

Drawing closer to him, you chose to let your actions speak and pressed your lips softly against his, warmth enveloping your body as you felt him kissing you back with equal tenderness. He cupped your wet cheek gently, his touch offering a sense of comfort and security.

Pulling back slowly, you whispered against his lips, "You... I want you, Jung Wooyoung."

"Then it's me you shall have."

And that marked the first day of him courting you. As days turned into weeks, you settled into a new routine at the general's estate. Lady Park's kindness knew no bounds, and she graciously allowed you to stay there, knowing you had nowhere else to turn. Certainly not to that decrepit place with your despicable father.

Amidst this new life, you found solace in the companionship of the mistress. She taught you the art of embroidery, a skill that not only passed the time but also allowed you to contribute in some small way to the household. When you weren't with her, you spent your time with the investigator as you got to know each other better.

Then came the news—the Mansion of Midnight had been officially shut down. It was a relief to hear that justice had been served, and the perpetrators were facing the consequences of their actions. The girls who had been trapped there were finally free, receiving the care and support they deserved from the government.

Life seemed to be looking up in every way, but there was one thing that weighed heavily on your mind—Wooyoung's plans to introduce you to his parents.

"You worry too much, they're going to love you," were the last words from Lady Park and Eunsook before sending you off. The journey to his family estate passed in a blur, and before you knew it, you found yourself seated in the living hall of the estate. It was smaller than the general's, given that they were an average family.

Wooyoung reached for your hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss on your knuckles, "Relax, love. Everything will be okay," he reassured you. But despite the assurances from everyone, a part of you still feared how his family would perceive you.

As his parents finally greeted you, your heart raced with nervous anticipation. Throughout the meeting, it was evident that you were finding it difficult to be yourself, tiptoeing around cautiously despite the elderly couple's friendly demeanour. Deep down, you imagined all sorts of possibilities, fearing their kindness might be a facade meant to separate you both once you left.

Sensing your nerves and doubts, his mother gently set down her teacup and offered you a warm and motherly smile, "Miss Han, I hope my son hasn't been bothering you too much with his antics. I know he can be a handful, but we can see he's serious about you. When the time comes for him to propose, I hope you'll consider giving him a chance." His father chuckled and nodded in agreement as you stared at them in shock.

Reaching out to pat your hand, she continued, "We understand your concerns, but we want you to know that your past doesn't matter to us. Our priority is our son's happiness, and if that means being with you, then we're more than happy with it."

The remainder of the day unfolded smoothly as you dined with Wooyoung's parents before he escorted you back to the general's estate that evening. Lingering by the entrance, he seemed reluctant to part ways just yet. Your intertwined hands swung back and forth as he playfully wiggled his eyebrows at you, "I told you everything would be fine, didn't I? Would it hurt to believe me?"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, "How can I when all you do is trick me over and over for fun? Do you even love me?"

Feigning offence, he dramatically gasped, placing a hand over his heart, "Excuse me, I'll have you know that while I may joke about many things, my love for you is genuine."

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he embraced you, pulling you close, "Stop teasing and say it back already," he urged.

Just as you were on the verge of relenting, a loud clearing of the throat startled you both. Seonghwa stood by the gates, arms crossed over his chest, looking unamused, "Must you two do this right in front of my house?"

His cool demeanour vanished as soon as his wife appeared beside him, giving him a playful smack on the back of his head, "Leave them alone, you idiot!" she chided, before dragging him back into the estate, calling out, "Please continue!"

Laughter filled the air between you as you watched the couple go. After the moment passed, Wooyoung bit his lip, "There's a festival in town tomorrow, and I know you've been eager to go. Shall I pick you up at the same time tomorrow?"

Nodding shyly, you replied, "Yes, same time. I'll see you, Woo."

"See you, love." With a final peck on your lips, he pulled away. Before his hand could fully slip away, you held on, "Wait, I love you too."

With a cheeky grin, he teased, "I know."

"Ugh, you ruined the moment," you said with a playful sigh. Turning to leave, you couldn't help but smile as he whined behind you. Laughing, you added, "Go home, Woo. Don't be late tomorrow." He may be a fool, but he's the fool who saved your life. He's your fool, and you couldn't wait to have more moments like this with him.

Y'all, I'm sorry if this seemed rushed or anything. I sincerely hope this meets expectations! It's not easy trying to fit everything in a two-shot, but I really didn't want to drag it any longer than it has to be because I'm aware I have 6 more spinoffs to complete HAHA

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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[officialaemondtargaryen]

Never Gonna Be Alone [part 1]

Summary: A collection of small moments that lead to falling in love with your roommate. This is a Modern Day!AU.

Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Author's Note: I've been writing two horribly depressing stories simultaneously for a while now and I needed a break from the angst. I hope that you all enjoy this.

Warnings for the entire series: language, drug & alcohol use, pining, fluff, possible angst, and possible sexual content. Plus, me attempting to be a comedian.

Playlist here!

She said, "he's kind of messy in every aspect of his life, but he's fun to be around!" Then, she very positively followed that up with, "I think you two would really get along!"

You met Helaena in college, and to be honest, you really didn't know her that well. She was a friend of a friend who had been in a few of the same classes as you, went to the same bars, and had a similar taste in art and music. She'd like every selfie, or ask to borrow a book you posted about, but you had never really hung out alone together.

So when your phone started ringing on a Friday night, after you were already three margaritas deep and swimming in queso dip at your cousin's birthday party, and it was Helaena Targaryen's name flashing across the screen, you were admittedly concerned; though, you'd always known her to be a pretty sincere person, so you took her word for it when she said that you should let her older brother move into the empty, second bedroom of your apartment. It might have been the tequila, or the fact that you were just that desperate, but you immediately agreed to her proposition without question.

You had been trying to rent the room out for months when it became impossible to afford the luxury of living alone, but every person that was interested happened to fall through for one reason or another. You had even offered a discounted rate (as the bedroom was smaller than yours and there was only one bathroom and it was a Jack-and-Jill), but you still couldn't find a good fit.

Enter Aegon Targaryen.

Suddenly, a guy whom you could only describe as 'that has to be Helaena's brother', was knocking on your door a week later. There was beat up Wrangler sitting on the curb behind him filled to the roof with cardboard boxes, and a tiny U-Haul hitched to the bumper with what little bit of furniture he had. He looked at you, blinked a few times and said, "I'm Aegon." You introduced yourself and he nodded; there were no pleasantries, no hand shakes or smiles. He just walked into your apartment, looked around, and then started moving his things in.

It was mid-July, so obviously there were better things you could be doing with your time than helping a complete stranger move his things into your home during a drought and a heat wave. Yet, you slid on your sandals and got to work after you had started to feel bad that you were sitting pretty in the air conditioning while your new roommate struggled in the humidity.

It didn't take long until the only thing left was his mattress. You weren't even sure how he got that monstrosity stuffed into the tiny trailer in the first place. It was ridiculously bulky and much heavier than it needed to be, but he swore that it was the most comfortable mattress you'd ever lay on in your life- a fact that you would just have to take his word for. You struggled, a lot, but put on a brave face as Aegon did most of the heavy lifting in the back and you navigated up front.

As you were coming up the porch steps with your sunglasses sliding off of your face as you dripped with sweat, and your arms tired from hours of heavy lifting (saving the heaviest for last, which was a terrible idea), you ended up missing the stoop completely and landing on your ankle awkwardly. You played it off until you had gotten the mattress onto his bed frame, and then silently cried about it in your now shared bathroom; quietly cursing the economy for forcing this situation upon you. Later that night as you were sitting on the couch, with your swollen ankle elevated on a couple of throw pillows, your new roommate tosses a bag of frozen peas in your lap and continues into his room with a bowl of cereal for dinner.

"Thanks," you called after him but only heard the sound of his bedroom door closing in reply.

Over the next few weeks you observed quite a bit about Aegon Targaryen. You knew which spoon was his favorite, how he preferred his tea, that he washed his hair with tea tree shampoo, and enjoyed mint chocolate chip ice cream. He cut the crust off of his sandwiches when he ate them at home, but when he packed his lunch he left them on. He could drink an entire box of wine by himself, but he typically stopped after two glasses, and he always asked if you wanted him to pour you one. He talked to his siblings a lot, but never his parents, and he really enjoyed watching dog videos on his phone while sitting on the couch as you tried to watch your show.

And when he laughed, he belly laughed, and you couldn't help but smile softly to yourself when he did.

Despite how taciturn he may have been, he was still good company, even if you were just sitting on opposite ends of the sofa doing your own thing. He always thanked you when you would leave leftovers in the fridge with a sticky note that had his name on it, and you started making sure that you made enough for two. When he came home late on the weekends, he tried his absolute hardest to do so quietly, but with those hardwood floors, it was almost impossible. He'd wake you up every single time, but you would never say anything. It was hardly an inconvenience after the many nights you'd fall asleep to the sound of him softly strumming his guitar in the next room.

And yet, you just couldn't help but wait for the other shoe to drop. Because it had to, right? Surely this would be a nightmare; God finally sending a punishment for your sins and giving him the face of a literal angel for shits and giggles. You weren't entirely convinced he wasn't Karma-In-Disguise, as the only other option was just too good to be true.

One morning you woke to find Aegon in the kitchen, standing at the counter, making himself a cup of tea. He had already brewed a pot of coffee for you and there was a box of assorted pastries sitting on the table, one of which he was holding between his teeth as he poured a splash of milk into his cup. He turned to you, leaning against the counter and took a bite out of his scone.

"What's this?" You quirked an eyebrow as you studied the scene.

"A 'thank you', I s'pose," he shrugged, voice deep with residual exhaustion. He scratched at the short stubble on his chin, almost nervously, "It's been like a month since I moved in here, and, to be honest, I wasn't really expecting you to let me stay longer than a week."

You laughed softly and took a few steps deeper into the kitchen, taking note of how comfortable the space was with his presence in it. You couldn't ignore the way your pulse quickened at the sight of him in this light; the way the soft, morning sun bounced off of his blonde hair like a halo. He stayed right where he was as you moved around him; his tired, blue eyes following as you grabbed your favorite mug and a spoon from the drawer.

"To be honest, I wasn't expecting you to want to stay," you mentioned as you stood next to him and added two scoops of sugar to your cup. Your eyes flickered up to meet his stare, which was so blue you might as well have been looking up at the sky itself. "We're basically strangers."

"I wouldn't say that," he shrugged, lips curling into a small smirk, and you had to stop looking at him before you spilled coffee all over yourself.

"Oh? What are we then?" You asked, feeling your cheeks warming slightly as you averted your gaze.

"Not strangers," you could hear the smirk in his tone; his gaze lingering for a moment longer before he took another bite of his pastry and pushed himself off the counter. "Besides," he added, taking a few steps towards the living room before glancing back at you. "A stranger wouldn't know your favorite bakery."

You laughed softly through your nose, realizing that your new roommate had just admitted to eavesdropping on your late-night FaceTime conversations with your best friend. Though, you were sure it was only because he didn't have a choice in the matter; the walls were paper-thin, after all. But, you remembered telling her just the day before yesterday how badly you were craving a chocolate croissant, but getting one was difficult because they were always sold out.

There were four chocolate croissants in that box.

"Fuck," you sighed.

[jasmines-library]

Could you please do Winchester!sister fic where the boys and sister are on a hunt in the rain and they get to a two story house and while the boys are checking the bottom floor, the sister goes off on her own to the rooftop and faces one of the monsters up there who cuts a wire and the boys come outside to see just as the sister gets electrocuted and flung off the roof and…

Currents Convulsive

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Warnings: possible swearing, electrocution? Hospitals.

Word Count: 1.3K

SPN MASTERLIST

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

The rain splattered heavily against the hood of Baby as slammed your door shut. The rain was heavy. Treacherous. It soaked through your clothes and chilled h your skin as it sat slick against it. You were half sure the sky was trying to drown you as it pooled at your feet before rolling down the hill. You slid your pistol into your waistband after checking it was loaded, and shouldered your rifle.

“You ready?” Dean asked, running his fingers through his hair to try and shake some of the rain from it.

“Yep.” You agreed, stepping behind him and Sam as they walked towards the house. It was an old house; half destroyed by an earthquake a few years ago that left the paint flaking and the brick crumbling. It also left a gaping hole in the roof, so the chance of any sanctuary from the rain was practically gone. Especially upstairs.

You and your brothers were hunting a spirit tethered to one of the belongings lost here. The spirit was rather angry and had been terrorising the street for years. The problem was: you weren’t entirely sure what you were looking for and while you would usually salt n burn the whole place, with the torrential downpour that showed no sigh of stopping that wasn’t an option. You figured you would know when you found what you were looking for. Hopefully. If not it was back to square one.

Stepping round the rubble and pushing open the splintering door, the three of you stepped inside.

Inside the house was just as dark and grim as the outside. The only light spared came from the gaping hole in the roof: the weather and conditions breaking through the floor below it too. Picture frames that once hung on the walls now lay shattered on the ground from where they had slumped from their hooks. Furniture was overturned and the windows broken; the glass spiderwebbing along the frames. The rest of the spirits possessions were strewn across the floor or spilling from cupboards. Great. At least the ground floor was relatively dry.

“Dibs not going upstairs” Dean announced loudly when he took in the trickle of water from the hole in the ceiling and how the water dribbled in from the lack of roof.

“Nope. Nuh uh.” Sam said, glancing at the stairs. “That’s not how this works, Dean.”

“I’m the oldest. That means I get to decide. And I say I’m not going up there.”

“Dean.” You grumbled.

Sam held out his hand in a fist. Dean rolled his eyes before sighing and joining the two of you for a game of rock paper scissors. The three of you played, and you pulled rock, fully expecting for Dean to pick scissors like he did every time. And sure enough Dean’s hand flattened as he played paper—

Paper?!

Dean grinned proudly as he and Sam beat you. You looked at Dean unamused.

“I hate you.” You deadpanned. Of course, you didn’t mean it really. A lighthearted joke.

Dean ruffled your hair. “Have fun getting wet, kiddo.”

Rolling your eyes, you grumbled and trudged up the groaning stairs to sort through all of her things.

You’d been upstairs for about 10 minutes when the atmosphere seemed so shift; the air grew colder and the rain seemed to hammer through the roof harder. And then, things were being pelted at you. The spirit stood at the other end of the room and if the fact he was pelting things at you wasn’t enough for you to gauge his anger, then the cantankerous look on expression was.

Rolling to your left, you managed to dodge the onslaught of rubble he was throwing at you, and made a move to grab your rifle. Pulling it back and aiming it at the spirit, you fired. The rock salt rounds slammed into its humanoid figure and sent it dissipating somewhere else. But not for long. The sound of the gun being fired had alerted your brothers, who called out your name.

“We’ve got company!” You yelled down to them. You stepped further into the room, so you were close to the middle. Water pooled at your feet, the cold seeping into your toes. The wind howled above you, rattling the power lines above.

When the spirit reappeared, he let out an awful howl that seemed to rattle the whole house and the trees around it. You fire at it again.

“I could really use some help here” you grunted as you dodged.

“We’re coming kiddo.” Sam yelled back at you as they raced towards the stairs.

An awful crack sounded. A rumble of thunder and then a ripple of sparking as the power lines came crashing down. You tried to jump out of the way, but your reflexes were no match for the spirits actions.

Hitting the water, the live wire sparked and the electricity rippled through it. And then you were overcome by a blinding pain that shot through your veins. You screamed raw as the force of the voltage flung you backwards across the room and you slammed into the brick. Your vision swam overcome quickly with white spots. And the last thing you remember was the scream of the spirit as it went up in flames before the blurry outline of Sam loomed over you.

~~~

You were sure if it was in incessant beeping of the heart monitor, or the pain that radiated through your body. You blinked, a soft groan slipping from your chapped lips. Your throat felt like sandpaper.

“Hey, Sweetheart.” It was Dean’s soft voice that greeted you; low and gentle, laced thick with concern that will be hard to unpick later.

Your eyes fluttered, assaulted by the harsh lights before they settled on your older brother. You tried to shift in search of Sam, but a gentle hand to the shoulder stopped you. “Take it easy, Kiddo.” Sam reassured you. His voice held the same worry that Dean’s did, and he had worry wrinkles creased between his eyebrows. “I’m here. We’re both here. You’re safe.”

“What…….” You croaked “what happened…?” It had all happened so quickly that you hadn’t really been able to process it.

Dean smoothed his hand over your forehead and threaded his fingers through your hair. “The spirit cut the power lines. They fell in the water and electrocuted you before flinging you against the wall. That was…two days ago.”

You felt your stomach drop at that.

“The throw broke a couple of your ribs and the voltage caused some damage but they managed to fix you up. Just rest a painkillers for now.” Sam said gently, unable to help the sideways glance at the IV poking out of your skin.

“…..the spirit?….” you rasped out.

“Burnt. It was tied to a wedding ring.” Dean answered. “We burnt it just seconds too late— oh sweetheart. We’re so sorry……it’s my fault. I should have just gone up there myself—“

“Stop that.” You chided. Although your weak voice didn’t do much to assert your authority in the slightest.

“It is my fault—“

“Not it’s not. It was an accident.”

“An accident that could have been prevented.”

You shook your head. “Nope. Stop that.” You said. “Please.”

That seemed to cut across him, and he dropped his next comment. You could still tell him and Sam were feeling guilty, but at least he wasn’t outwardly saying it, so that was a step in the right direction. They still watched you with worried eyes. “I’m okay.” You said softly. “A little sore. But okay. I promise.”

Sam squeezed your hand a little. “Of course you are. You’re a tough one, kiddo.”

Dean agreed. “The toughest.”

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

SPN TAGS:

@hell-o-kittys @inlovewhithafairytale @harleycao @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @rosecentury @xxrougefangxx

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[sapphire-writes]

Long Day (modern!Aemond x Reader)

summary: Balancing life has been increasingly stressful. Aemond helps you relax.

warnings: mostly fluff! kissing, grinding, teasing

word count: 1.8k

note: we're at the point in the semester where some fluff is desperately needed. quick little fluffy story, hope you enjoy!

When you enter your dimly lit apartment, classical music is playing from the record player Helaena gifted you for your birthday last year. You’re arriving home much later than usual as seems to be the theme for the past couple of weeks. It nearly broke your heart to text Aemond again earlier, telling him you had to stay late at work.

Aemond is seated in his usual spot on the couch, a book in front of him, round glasses perched on the bridge of his nose—your favorite pair of his; the round ones with the brown frames. A cream-colored cable-knit sweater covers his torso, a blanket haphazardly thrown over his lower half. 

Vhagar sits in the space between his legs, curled up and purring softly. She’s always most content around Aemond, though she’s grown accustomed to your presence since you moved in together. She lazily opens a green eye, and Aemond turns his head at the sound of the door closing. He smiles at you, before returning to his book.

“Hello, love,” he softly greets, turning a page.

“Hey,” you answer with a sigh, unable to hide the exhaustion from the day. 

Aemond looks up from his book again, closing it with one hand. He knows you so well, if your voice is even a little off he catches it. You hang up your raincoat and place your shoes on the neighboring rack. It’s been raining nonstop for the past week; the weather matches your mood.

“What’s happened?”

“Nothing,” you tell him, walking toward the living room. You deposit your bag on the armchair before sitting next to him on the couch, “Just a long day, that’s all.”

Aemond hums, placing his hands under Vhagar who meows unhappily as he gently places her on the floor. She shakes, tall puffing in annoyance and glares at you, knowing you must be the reason for her disturbance. She trots away, her tummy pouch swinging as she disappears down the hall. 

“C’mere,” Aemond beckons and you scoot closer, leaning into him. 

He places an arm around your shoulders pulling you closer as you tuck your knees under you up on the couch. Leaning into his chest you breathe in the scent of his cologne. You can’t help but feel tears well in your eyes as his hand strokes a path down your arm and you unconsciously snuggle closer to him, sniffling slightly.

“What happened?” Aemond asks again, his voice soft and low. 

“Nothing,” you insist, “I mean, nothing happened I’m just…stressed that’s all.”

Aemond is quiet for a moment, continuing his smooth strokes on your arm. You can hear the steady beat of his heart through the sweater he wears, the sound comforting. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.

“Not really,” you admit.

“Okay,” he agrees.

You stay beside him for a few moments in comfortable silence before he speaks again. 

“Tell you what,” he murmurs, “How about you unwind, take a nice shower, and get all comfortable and I’ll make you something to eat.”

You glance up at him, giving him your best puppy dog eyes.

“Grilled cheese?” you ask hopefully.

“With soup?” he asks, and you eagerly nod causing him to chuckle, “Coming right up.”

Reluctantly you pull yourself away from him, but the promise of a home-cooked comfort meal is enough encouragement to get unready. You take your time in the shower, Vhagar sitting outside the glass doors and licking the condensation that forms from the steam. Showing yourself some love you use every single product you own; scrubbing, lathering, and deep conditioning yourself into a state of euphoria. 

You wrap your fluffiest towel around yourself and take the extra time to dry your hair before throwing it into a claw clip. Scooping Vhagar with you, you walk down the hall to your bedroom, depositing her on the bed. She used to resist when you tried to carry her, but now she’s as limp as a ragdoll and brushes herself against you in appreciation before curling up between the pillows. 

Aemond’s shirts are the comfiest to wear, they engulf you like nothing else. It’s a bit chilly tonight, and you instead choose a large sweater of his. You tease him about it, calling it his ‘old man sweater’ due to the pattern. That, paired with your favorite silk sleep shorts, and you’re in a much better mood. Heading back toward the kitchen, your stomach rumbles at the scent of chicken soup. 

Aemond stands at the stove, mixing his concoction. He’s lit a few candles and turned on the fairy lights that hang around the ceiling giving your apartment a warm glow.

“Sit,” he orders, giving you a small smirk.

Happily you pad over to the couch, throwing the blanket over your bare legs. Aemond is over not a minute later, placing two steaming bowls of chicken noodle soup on the coffee table, and then returning with two grilled cheeses. Eagerly scooting forward, you grab the sandwich and take a bite. You barely suppress a moan, along with your eyes rolling back in your head. 

“Seven hells,” you mutter, taking another bite; the cheese pulling into long strings of gooey perfection.

Aemond chuckles, “Is it good?”

“I’m in love with you,” you tell him, sighing contentedly.

“You know, if that was the first time hearing you say that, I’d be insulted,” he teases.

“Why?” you ask, “Wasn’t it your chef skills that won me over in the first place?”

“You’re very funny,” he says, smirking slightly.

You sit with Aemond, feet thrown across his lap as you eat dinner together. Aemond chooses one of your favorite films to put on in the background as you chat about his day and enjoy your soup. Aemond finishes first, he always eats rather quickly and begins massaging your calves trying to release some of the remaining tension in your limbs.

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” he says, broaching the topic once more as his hand slides down to your foot. 

You let out a small groan of appreciation as his fingers move lower to dig into the arch of your foot. 

“It was just a lot today,” you admit, “I just feel like I’m burning out. It’s just a lot to balance with everything going on…”

“I know love, you’re almost there,” Aemond encourages, “It won’t be like this much longer, and you’re doing such a good job.”

His praise warms you like a fire, the sincere look in his blue eyes making your heart sing.

You pull your legs from his grip and shuffle forward, bringing your lips to his, kissing him sweetly before burying your face against him as you did earlier. He pulls you close, arm wrapped around you and tracing lazy circles on your thigh underneath the blanket. You rest against him, listening to his heartbeat as the movie drones on. Soon, lulled by the sound of his heart, your eyelids become heavy and you slip into sleep. 

It feels like you’ve been sleeping a long time. When you open your eyes you’re still in the living room, the clock displays the time is 2 a.m. Aemond sits, awake still, trapped underneath you. He’d settled for his Kindle this time and held it in one hand, turning the page with the tap of his finger. 

“Aemond,” you murmur, voice thick with sleep as you push yourself into a seated position, “You should’ve woken me.”

“It’s alright,” he insists, placing his kindle down on the table beside him, “How’d you sleep?”

“Very well,” you admit, sitting back on your haunches, “Gods. It’s late.”

Aemond hums in agreement, watching you stretch your arms above your head, revealing a sliver of your stomach. He reaches out, unable to help himself, placing a hand on your hip. You drop your arms, smiling at him lovingly. 

“Do you feel better?” he asks.

“Mhmm,” you answer, scooting closer, “I happen to have the best boyfriend.”

“Oh, do you?” he asks, tugging you closer by your thigh. 

You spread your legs, letting him drag you across his lap until you’re straddling his waist. Leaning forward, you nuzzle against his neck, placing soft kisses along his throat as you wrap your arms around him. Aemond releases a soft groan, his hands palming the swell of your ass and you wiggle against him, getting as close as possible. 

One of his hands snakes underneath your sweater, his large palm pressing into the small of your back. A shiver rolls down your spine and you swivel your hips against him.

“Baby…” he murmurs, turning his face toward you and placing a kiss on your cheek.

“What?” you murmur, nipping the pale skin of his throat. Aemond’s hand runs up and down your back, the other gripping your thigh. You can feel him growing harder beneath you; the increasing pressure between your legs growing with every shift of your hips against his.

“I should put you to bed,” he groans as you press your lips against the cool metal of his chain, “Fuck issa rina dōna (my sweet girl).”     

You smile, dragging your lips to meet his in a slow, sensual kiss. Once Aemond starts slipping into High Valyrian, you know you’ve got him where you want him. His lips are soft and warm against your own as you continue to kiss him at an unhurried pace, simply enjoying being close to him. 

You sigh as his lips move down, tracing the curve of your jaw and finding a home below your ear, kissing the sensitive spot there as you drag your nails across his scalp.

“Tell me what you need, gevie,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear.

 “Need you, Aem,” you tell him, “Please, just need you.”

“Shhh I know, I know,” he gently coos, “I’ll take care of you issa jorrāelagon (my love).”  

You and Aemond stay up much longer than anticipated, finally retiring to your shared bedroom as the first beams of sunlight begin to trickle through your windows. When you wake you’re snuggled against Aemond, the blankets cradling you both in a warm cocoon. 

“I’ve called out for you,” Aemond tells you as you’re pressed against his chest, “You’re going to spend the whole day in bed.”

“Aemond,” you giggle, “I can’t possibly be that lazy-”

“Oh yes you can,” he insists, arms tightening around you, “I’ve called out as well. So you’ve nothing to worry about.” He places a kiss on your head before hovering on top of you. 

“Now,” he says, head dipping to kiss your collarbone, “Let’s quiet that beautiful brain of yours, shall we?”

“Oh?” you breathe as he continues to kiss up your neck, “And how do you plan to do that?”

Aemond hums against you, and you can feel his grin.

“Well, we’ve got all day to find out, haven’t we?”

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[soldiersareyourprotectors]

The night draped itself over the city like a heavy cloak, its darkness swallowing the streets in a sea of shadows. Marine Corporal James Garrison wandered aimlessly, his heart heavy with the weight of a recent breakup. His footsteps echoed against the pavement, each one a solitary beat in the symphony of his solitude.

Desperate for solace, James found himself drawn to the flickering lights of a nearby bar. The neon sign beckoned him with promises of oblivion, and he entered, seeking refuge from the storm raging within.

The bar was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of alcohol and desperation. James took a seat at the worn wooden counter, his uniform a stark contrast to the casual attire of the other patrons. He ordered a whiskey, its amber hue reflecting the turmoil in his soul.

As the liquid burned its way down his throat, James's thoughts turned to his ex-girlfriend, her memory a bitter reminder of love lost. He drowned his sorrows in drink after drink, hoping to numb the ache that gnawed at his heart.

But the alcohol provided little comfort, and James found himself sinking deeper into despair. It was then that he felt a presence beside him, a warm voice cutting through the haze of his thoughts.

"You look like you could use some company," the stranger said, his voice gentle yet confident. James glanced up, his eyes meeting those of a young man with twinkling eyes and a disarming smile.

For a moment, James hesitated, his walls of self-preservation still intact. But something in the stranger's demeanor spoke to him, offering a glimmer of connection in the darkness.

"I could use a distraction," James admitted, his voice rough with emotion. The stranger nodded, sliding onto the stool beside him with an ease that spoke of practiced charm.

They talked and laughed, the stranger's presence a welcome respite from James's inner turmoil. He learned that the young man's name was Alex, and that he was a regular at the bar, his easygoing nature a stark contrast to James's rigid military demeanor.

As the night wore on, James found himself opening up to Alex in a way he hadn't with anyone else. He spoke of his time in the Marines, of the struggles he faced both on the battlefield and off. And with each word, he felt a weight lift from his shoulders, replaced by a sense of camaraderie he hadn't felt in years.

With the barriers of restraint crumbling between them, James and Alex shared stories and secrets, their laughter mingling with the music that filled the air. And as the hour grew late, James found himself agreeing to accompany Alex back to his apartment, the promise of further companionship too enticing to resist.

They stumbled out into the night, their steps unsteady but determined. James's mind was clouded with alcohol and desire, his thoughts consumed by the prospect of finally finding solace in the arms of another.

Inside Alex's apartment, the atmosphere crackled with anticipation. They moved together with a desperate urgency, their bodies drawn to one another like magnets in the darkness.

As they kissed, James felt a fire ignite within him, burning away the numbness that had clouded his senses for so long. He traced his fingers along Alex's smooth skin, marveling at the warmth and softness beneath his touch.

But as the passion between them reached its peak, Alex pulled away, his eyes dark with hunger. "Can I try something?" he whispered, his voice a seductive purr in the silence.

James, lost in a haze of desire and confusion, could only nod in response. He was powerless to resist the pull of Alex's gaze, his own desires overshadowed by the need for connection and intimacy.

With a smirk, Alex began to undress James, his movements slow and deliberate.

Piece by piece, the uniform that had once been a symbol of James's strength and authority fell away, leaving him exposed and vulnerable in the darkness.

As Alex donned James's uniform, the fabric hung loosely on his slender frame, the excess material billowing around him like sails on a ship. But as their lips met in a passionate embrace, a strange and powerful energy surged between them, igniting a transformation unlike anything James had ever witnessed.

With each kiss, Alex seemed to draw strength from James, his form shifting and morphing with every touch. Muscles bulged beneath the fabric, filling out the uniform until it stretched taut against his newfound power. The once-slender figure now stood before James, transformed into an imposing mirror image of the Marine himself.

As the kiss ended, James felt a cold chill settle over him, his own strength draining away like water through cupped hands. He staggered back, his limbs heavy and weak, as he realized the extent of what had just transpired.

Before him stood Alex, now bearing his likeness in both body and soul. He watched in horror as the stranger smirked, the once-familiar features now twisted with triumph.

"Thanks for the upgrade, Marine," Alex said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down James's spine. "Looks like I'll be taking over from here."

James tried to protest, to fight against the overwhelming sense of defeat that threatened to consume him. But his body refused to obey, weakened by the draining kiss and the loss of his essence.

With a cruel smile, Alex approached him, his hands tracing a path along James's weakened form. James struggled feebly, his attempts at resistance no match for the newfound strength of his doppelganger.

In a haze of lust and confusion, James found himself succumbing to Alex's touch, his body betraying him in the most intimate of ways. They were both consumed by desire, lost in a whirlwind of passion and longing.

And then, in a moment of perfidy, Alex's true intentions were revealed. With a swift motion, he bound James's wrists with rope, his movements deft and calculated.

James struggled against his bonds, his heart pounding in his chest as he realized the trap he had fallen into. But it was too late. He was at Alex's mercy, helpless to resist as the stranger enacted his twisted plan.

As the ropes bound James's wrists, securing him in place, he could feel the grip of despair tightening around his heart. He watched in dismay as Alex reveled in the sensation of the uniform hugging his newly acquired muscles, a smirk of satisfaction playing on his lips.

The once proud uniform, a symbol of honor and duty, had become a twisted mockery in Alex's hands, a vessel for his newfound power and desire.

With a cruel glint in his eye, Alex leaned in close, his breath hot against James's ear.

"You see, James," he murmured, his voice dripping with malice,

"this uniform suits me far better than it ever did you. And I plan to make the most of it."

James's blood ran cold as he realized the depth of Alex's depravity. He was not content with merely taking on James's appearance; he sought to usurp every aspect of his life, to mold it into something twisted and grotesque.

"And you, James," Alex added, his voice dripping with anticipation, "you can't even begin to imagine how much I'm looking forward to being in bed with your friend Mike. Feeling our muscular bodies grinding against each other, our desires intertwining until there's no telling where one of us ends and the other begins."

James's mind raced as he considered the implications of Alex's words. Mike, his fellow Marine and closest confidant, was now in danger of falling prey to Alex's manipulations. He shuddered at the thought of what else Alex might know, of the secrets he could use to his advantage.

A wave of revulsion washed over James as he realized the true extent of Alex's depravity. He was not content with merely dominating James alone; he sought to corrupt and destroy everything James held dear, to leave him utterly and completely alone in his misery.

As the darkness closed in around him, James could only watch helplessly as Alex disappeared into the night, leaving him alone and defeated in his own skin. And in that moment, he knew that his nightmare was far from over.

[nothingenoughao3]

Why we wanna transition to Mad Scientist (or, revulsion and queerness in horror)

(Hi, @ash-eats-film! This is the thing I mentioned!)

Horror has a few baseline emotions it tries to inflict on the audience. This has been written about for decades, most famously by Stephen King, but the baseline elements most writers agree on are as follows.

Dread: Anxiety over what is about to happen

Terror: The fear of what is occurring right this second

Revulsion: Being forced to interact directly with what's happening right now

Black comedy: Being tricked into laughing at either the terror or the revulsion

Horror: The trauma response to what just happened

A great example of this can be seen in The Evil Dead II (YT link that doesn't include the full context, but does have the, uh, money shot). There's the dread of realizing there's something in the root cellar; the terror of when the Deadite pops up in the trapdoor; the combined revulsion and black comedy of Ash jumping on the Deadite's skull/the door, popping out its eyeball which shoots into Bobby Joe's mouth, and then the horror of what just went down rolling over Ash and his current companions.

Often, revulsion and black comedy go hand in hand. That's because they're tension relievers. The revolting thing becomes ridiculous, and you laugh at how ridiculous it is. This lets you settle down in the midst of the gore and death, just slightly, just enough to get through it... so the horror can fully set in for you, too, once it's over.

You also, often, question your own stability if you laugh in the middle of a gross-out horror scene: "Am I sick? Is there something wrong with me for laughing at X?" This is even worse if the villain starts laughing--now you're questioning whether you're IDing with the monster. Are you okay? Is something wrong with you?

Revulsion is often framed as the slutty member of the good, proper, morally-upright brigade of horror. We have a name for folks who seek out gross-out horror--they're gore-hounds, a term that is virtually always pejorative when applied to other people. We call certain types of horror "torture porn" or "gore porn", as though it is inherently sleazy and sexual to rely on this specific emotional reaction. (Note that we don't have "black comedy-porn", or "dread hounds", even though a dread hound sounds really fucking cool.)

Not to go off on a huge tangent, but I think the issue with media that overly relies on revulsion is that it's unbalanced, not that it's bad. A movie that's nothing but dread never has any emotional payoff. A movie that's nothing but terror never lets the audience relax back into their seats and, paradoxically, will become boring (imagine two hours of jumpscares).

So forth and so on: all aspects of horror rely on each other to survive. That includes scenes that make you go "Awww, sick" while nervously cackling.

Here's the thing: in previous generations, revulsion was similarly understood to be an essential part of horror, but what led to a revolted reaction was very different.

Lovecraft (boo this man! BOOOOO) understood the power of revulsion, which was the source of a lot of his strangest and most vivid descriptions. It was also the source of some of his most bigoted ideas working into his stories. The undercurrent of "non-WASPs are evil because they are repulsive" is as pervasive in his work as "the universe is incomprehensibly vast". You kind of can't get around that.

But there's another thing Lovecraft did to generate revulsion. He wrote a number of stories where an unhealthy focus on corpses, graveyards, graverobbing, and the like is, indirectly or directly, associated with sexual perversion. 

How many, you may ask? Off the top of my head, there's "The Loved Dead", "In the Vault", "The Disinterment", "Pickman's Model", The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath, "The Hound" and "Herbert West: Re-Animator". All of these tales share certain themes, which don't repeat beat-for-beat in each tale but do overlap:

Male character becomes obsessed with dead bodies--whether that's stealing them, having sex with them, desecrating them, or resurrecting them.

He is comfortable around death and the dead to a degree that is unusual, sometimes explicitly stating that he prefers the smells/sights of death to those of life.

Terms like "fiendish", "hellish", "abnormal" and "perverse" are used to describe him; his gaze towards dead bodies or to experiments may be framed as "leering" or "speculative".

He is frequently a twink; often described as being frail, if not noticeably beautiful; he may recall being mocked for being "bookish" or "weak" as a child.

He is superficially charming in a way that gets him by in polite society, but not long-term nor in-depth.

He often ensnares an otherwise "normal" man to share his obsessions, effectively recruiting him as an assistant... until the "normal" guy realizes he's about to go on the chopping block (or, in at least one story, already was on the chopping block).

Their crimes involve a lot of sneaking around late at night, locked doors, whispering so they don't get caught (or they'll be killed), secretiveness, glee at getting away with it, and frequently, sharing the same living space.

The Unrepentant Evil Dude is often killed at the end of his tale in a way that implies vigilante/mob justice is at hand. 

The other may be allowed to live if he's very sorry and frames the whole story as being the fault of the other guy, or he may die too while affirming his horrible demise as just, even if it terrifies him.

(One could make an argument that Wilbur Whateley fits into some of these tropes. It's me I'm one)

If this all sounds very gay, Lovecraft probably would have agreed. He had as dim a view of homosexuality as he did on most other things that were Outside The Norm. In other words, we were supposed to see Richard Upton Pickman with his ghouls and think, "Ah, yes, this is a metaphor for queerness", only we were supposed to be revolted by that revelation.

This same attempt at revulsion can be easily read into Victor Frankenstein, and probably more Mad Scientists than I can name offhand (but feel free to in reblogs). Frankenstein's "crimes against nature" were connected to dead bodies as well, and likewise involved a lot of sneaking around, locked doors, and worry about what would happen were he caught with this naked man-thing he's keeping in his dorm. His crime, as with his parody character Herbert West, is creating life outside the bounds of heterosexual cisgender sex. This was meant to revolt readers' sensibilities as much as the whole cutting-up-corpses-and-stitching-them-back-together thing would.

This is why, if we're being honest, "Re-Animator" and "Bride of Re-Animator" are not necessarily gay… they're homophobic. This might be controversial, but stick with me.

I feel like Gordon and Yuzna were tapping into that old-fashioned Revulsion Handbook, including from the source material, which thematically linked Herbert West with queerness. (I'm using "queer" a lot here, but I would personally include trans-friendly readings under that rubric; I'm using "queer" in the analytical sense and not solely in the identity sense.) This means that, ironically, a lot of what we could point to as queer subtext is actually homophobic text.

This is reinforced by the novelization of the first film, written by a homophobe who got Trumpist brainworms later in life. He wanted to make West repulsive to the reader, and therefore, he tried to make West more gay. And IT WORKED. 

To be clear, I'm not accusing anybody, other than the novelist, of being a homophobe. There's a difference between possessing internalized bigoted beliefs which express themselves in writing, versus utilizing tropes originating in bigotry because That's What's Done Around Here. (I can understand why others might not perceive a meaningful difference.) Like the Cuzco lizards, this queerness-as-villainy is definitely a stupid thing ported in from the source material.

I do think that this is why everybody but Our Queen Barbara Crampton seems embarrassed or nonplussed by all the transfags pestering them about fellatio tapes. It's because they don't get why this thing appeals so much to us. It shouldn't. If anything, they should be canceled for having yet another queer-coded villain, along with a number of other plot choices of questionable taste (I'm looking at you, The Head Scene, and I don't like what I see).

Only, uh, it didn't work out that way long-term, did it?

I thank Cronenberg and venereal horror for this, in part. Brutally queer despite not being explicitly gay, venereal horror is what happens when the characters should be revolted, but aren't. 

This kind of thing is horrifying for crossing the line twice: first by being disgusting, then by having characters respond as though it is exciting, or sexually stimulating, or if nothing else, normal. They are perverse. They leer at the dead and the subjects of their experiments. And the disgusting monsters at the center of these narratives are celebrated. Their twisted sexualities are explored with the same brave frankness other filmmakers give to milquetoast cishet missionary nonsense. Their political views are given life and air, and usually, they're right. Their deaths, if they come at all, are framed as tragedies brought on by society's sick rejection of the flesh their brave experimentation.

Cronenberg's the dude who unironically thinks that Shivers (trigger warning for literally everything) has a happy ending. My man David's got subscriptions where others have issues.

Venereal horror has given us a new metaframework for looking at the repulsive, the monstrous, and the problematic and responding to it… differently.

Now here's another thing: Lovecraft likewise provided a structure for embracing the grotesque and the queer.

Pickman, the Decadent artist, paints photorealistic, enormous portraits of ghouls. Literal flesh-eaters. He is fascinated by them, comfortable with them. "Model" heavily implies that Pickman is a ghoul changeling--switched at birth with a human child. This leans into Lovecraft's ideas about heritability being a major source of horror, of course, and seems run of the mill until you get to The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath.

In there, Pickman appears again, but this time as a ghoul. He has cast off his human social shackles and joined the beings he loves, beings who understand him and support him. Kadath is notable in that the ghouls are actually... like... reliable, loyal, and morally good? Carter's opinion pretty much is, "They do eat human corpses and they smell awful, but they're all very nice and want to help me on my quest, so maybe they're not so bad (if not as good as the cat army)".

This feels like Lovecraft acknowledging that his entire approach of linking queerness, death, and revulsion is fundamentally flawed. Once you become familiar with the repulsive, it becomes not-really-that-repulsive-at-all. You can find beauty in it, and amusement, and love. Pickman embracing his ghoulish nature isn't all that different from Seth Brundle's overall lack of revulsion at his body's transformation. And it's not that different from what a lot of transmasculine folks go through, either.

It's not that transmascs, trans men, and/or transfags don't see what West does as crimes against nature. It's that we're all very fucking tired of being accused of crimes against nature. We're tired of not being able to look at socmed without finding accusations that we're disgusting perverts who sneak around behind closed doors to corrupt innocent, promising people to be our lackeys and partners in crime.

Hell, I refer to my wife as "my partner in crime" not because it's a cute way of acknowledging how well and how much we work together both in life and creativity. It's also because we could have been arrested for our relationship when we got together.

We were illegal.

There was a lot of sneaking around and whispering and trying not to get caught and "what if they call the cops on us if we're clocked". Can I tell my friends about this? Will they reject me or rat me out? Where am I safe? Nowhere. Best to lock the door and then check it again to be sure. Best to be very quiet.

Best to act like a graverobber trying to get their grisly wares back home before good, decent, Christian folk see them.

So when I hear "Blasphemy? Before what God?!", I read it as (whether he's ace or aro, gay or achillean, trans man or transmasc or genderfucked) a queer slogan of defiance, instead of a defense of graverobbing, corpse desecration, and non-consensual resurrection.

We're told we and our bodies are repulsive, so being told that Herbert is also repulsive makes him more relatable. Instead of wondering what the hell's wrong with him for shooting up reagent, we all theorize that it's actually T or has similar effects--because we're all told that T is a toxin that will horribly change and disfigure our bodies. He dresses in a three-piece suit for school, and instead of reading him as a stiff and overly-formal little freak, we assume he's layering up because he hasn't found a hoodie he likes yet. 

He cackles at his horrific creations, and instead of saying "What a fucking freak (anguished)", we say "What a fucking freak (affectionate)" and laugh along with him. Who among us hasn't taken apart our Barbies and tried to combine their parts with the Kens? What is a doll, or a human, but a collection of parts to be rearranged? Haven't we also been told we're freaks for rearranging our own parts?

We've already been told by society at large that we are Herbert West. We're just embracing it, in the proud tradition of venereal horror fans who are not revolted when they ought to be, and I think that's delightful.

[anthurak]

One detail in Mammon’s Musical Special that I found rather interesting upon rewatch is the fact that Fizzarolli doesn’t seem to be subjected to or threatened with direct sexual exploitation or coercion by Mammon.

And I find that pretty curious because we generally kind of expect or otherwise assume that sort of thing in these kinds of stories, right? That this super manipulative, abusive boss who’s exploiting his prized performer also personally lusts after them and is privately coercing them into performing sexual acts. Particularly when we consider the whole ‘Sex Robots’ angle and the fact that we’re seeing/will-see exactly this with Valentino and Angel Dust in Hazbin Hotel.

But with Mammon we just flat out don’t see this whatsoever. He never makes any sort of advances on Fizzarolli or makes any kind of direct comment on his attractiveness, even in their private conversations. In fact, I get the sense that Mammon doesn’t even CARE personally about sexual gratification all that much.

The way he off-handedly brings up the ‘sex-robot’ idea in the flashback really gave me the vibe of “I don’t exactly GET this whole ‘sex’ thing myself, but if people will buy it, awesome!” The way he talks about Fizzarolli’s sex appeal and the robots makes it seem like Mammon views sex purely as a commodity he can profit off of, rather than anything he’s personally interested in.

And I find all that pretty interesting because the episode makes clear that Mammon not directly sexually exploiting Fizzarolli DOESN’T make what he’s doing any less creepy, manipulative and abusive. Mammon still comes off as a giant skeevy scumbag because while he may not care about sex personally, it's clear that he’s still happy to cater directly to the ‘sick degenerates’ (as he outright calls them himself) among Fizzarolli’s fans simply because he realized that he could make a LOT of money off them. While being completely uncaring about how uncomfortable Fizzarolli is with this arrangement.

If anything, I think this all may have made it even harder for Fizz to recognize and admit to himself how badly Mammon was treating him. We see in the episode that it seems like the indirectness lets Fizzarolli more easily rationalize away just how uncomfortable it makes him, what with the whole ‘they’re just toys’ comment. It’s not like he’s the one all the creepy obsessive fans are paying to have sex with, it’s just hundreds of robots made specifically to look exactly like him.

It all conveys the cynical, uncaring, exploitative nature of how Mammon really views Fizzarolli, and of course helps to frame Mammon as a stand-in for any number of exploitative entertainment corporations. The kind of morally bankrupt mentality that might not personally agree with some truly awful people, but will happily cater to them if it will generate profit.

Finally in an amusing twist, it also means that even as bad as Mammon is, he’s somehow still beat in the complete and utter scumbag department by Valentino XD

[todorokis-girl]

On a collision course - Tsukishima Kei x f!Reader

I read a post a while ago and this was the line that caugh my attention: "Well have you considered that maybe the unstoppable force is in love with the immovable object; maybe the reason one refuses to move is because they both long for the collision"

masterlist

The sound of volleyballs hitting the gym floor echoed through Karasuno High School's gymnasium. The boys' volleyball team was practicing, and as usual, Tsukishima Kei was giving it his all, even if his aloof expression didn't show it. His tall frame and impressive blocking skills made him a formidable player on the court, but his sharp tongue and condescending attitude often rubbed people the wrong way.

Y/N, the team's manager, had known Tsukishima since middle school. They had never gotten along. While Y/N was outgoing and passionate, Tsukishima was reserved and indifferent. Their clashes were legendary, and their mutual disdain was well-known among their friends. Y/N believed in encouragement and support, while Tsukishima believed in brutal honesty and criticism.

Today was no different.

"Tsukishima, your timing was off on that last block," Y/N called out, her voice clear and authoritative.

Tsukishima shot her a withering look. "Maybe if you knew anything about volleyball, you'd realize it was a feint. But thanks for your insightful commentary, manager."

Y/N felt her face heat up. "I'm just trying to help. It's not my fault if you're too stubborn to listen."

The tension between them was palpable, and their teammates exchanged wary glances. This was a regular occurrence, and they had learned to stay out of it.

As practice ended, Y/N stayed behind to clean up. She liked the quiet of the gym when everyone else had left. It gave her a chance to think and unwind. She was wiping down the benches when she heard footsteps behind her. Turning, she saw Tsukishima, his face unreadable.

"Forgot my water bottle," he said curtly, grabbing it from the bench.

Y/N nodded, not wanting to engage further. But as he turned to leave, she couldn't help herself. "You know, just because we don't agree on everything doesn't mean you have to be such a jerk."

Tsukishima stopped and turned back to her, a hint of surprise in his eyes. "And just because you think you're always right doesn't mean you are."

Y/N sighed, feeling the familiar frustration bubble up. "Why do you always have to be so difficult?"

"Why do you always have to be so naive?" he shot back. "This isn't some feel-good story where everyone holds hands and sings Kumbaya. This is volleyball. It's about winning."

Y/N stared at him, her anger giving way to something else. "Maybe it's not just about winning, Tsukishima. Maybe it's also about working together, about being a team."

For a moment, Tsukishima didn't respond. He just looked at her, his eyes searching hers. Then he shook his head. "Whatever. Believe what you want."

As he walked away, Y/N felt a pang of sadness. She didn't understand why he had to be so cold, why he pushed everyone away. She wanted to help him, to break through that wall he had built around himself. But she didn't know how.

Days turned into weeks, and the animosity between Y/N and Tsukishima continued. Yet, something had changed. Their arguments were still frequent, but there was an undercurrent of something else, something neither of them wanted to acknowledge.

One evening, after a particularly grueling practice, Y/N found herself alone in the gym once more. She was lost in thought when she heard the door open and close. Expecting it to be one of the players, she was surprised to see Tsukishima.

"Hey," he said, his tone unusually soft.

Y/N looked up, her heart skipping a beat. "Hey."

There was an awkward silence before Tsukishima spoke again. "I… I wanted to apologize. For earlier. And for… everything."

Y/N blinked, taken aback. "What brought this on?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I've been thinking. Maybe you're right. Maybe I am too stubborn. And maybe… maybe I push people away because I'm afraid."

"Afraid of what?" Y/N asked, her voice gentle.

"Of getting close to people. Of getting hurt," he admitted, his eyes downcast.

Y/N's heart ached at his vulnerability. She took a step closer, reaching out to touch his arm. "You don't have to be afraid, Tsukishima. You have people who care about you. And… I care about you too."

He looked up, his eyes searching hers. "You do?"

She nodded, her hand still on his arm. "I do."

For a moment, they just stood there, the air between them charged with emotion. Then, slowly, Tsukishima reached out and pulled her into a hug. It was tentative at first, but as Y/N wrapped her arms around him, he held her tighter.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking.

"It's okay," she whispered back. "We're in this together."

The change in their relationship was gradual but undeniable. They still bickered, but there was a warmth now, a connection that hadn't been there before. They learned to trust each other, to support each other, and in the process, they grew closer.

One evening, after a long day of practice and homework, Y/N and Tsukishima found themselves walking home together. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the town. They walked in comfortable silence, their hands brushing occasionally.

"Do you remember what you said to me in the gym that day?" Tsukishima asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

Y/N looked at him, puzzled. "Which part?"

"The part about working together, about being a team," he said, his voice soft.

She nodded. "Yeah, I remember."

He stopped walking and turned to face her, his expression serious. "I think… I think that's when I realized I was falling for you."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. "Really?"

He nodded, taking her hands in his. "Yeah. I know I've been difficult, and I've said things I shouldn't have. But the truth is, I've never felt this way about anyone before. You're the unstoppable force, and I'm the immovable object. And maybe… maybe the reason I refused to move was because I longed for the collision."

Y/N felt tears prick her eyes as she smiled. "You know, for someone who doesn't talk about their feelings much, you sure know how to say the right thing."

He chuckled, pulling her closer. "Well, I had a good teacher."

She laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck. "So, what now?"

"Now," he said, leaning in to kiss her softly, "we see where this collision takes us."

As their lips met, Y/N felt a surge of happiness. She had always believed in the power of working together, of being a team. And now, with Tsukishima by her side, she knew they could face anything.

Together, they were unstoppable.

The days that followed were filled with a newfound sense of camaraderie and affection. Tsukishima, despite his initial reluctance, began to open up more, not just to Y/N but to the entire team. His sharp remarks became less frequent, replaced by genuine contributions and encouragement. The team noticed the change, and their performance on the court improved as a result.

One day, after practice, the team gathered in the locker room. Hinata, ever the curious one, finally voiced what everyone had been wondering.

"Hey, Tsukishima, Y/N," he began, a mischievous grin on his face. "What's going on with you two? You've been acting... different."

Kageyama nodded in agreement, adding, "Yeah, it's like you two are getting along or something."

The rest of the team murmured their agreement, all eyes on Tsukishima and Y/N. Tsukishima glanced at Y/N, who gave him an encouraging smile.

Taking a deep breath, Tsukishima decided to be honest. "Well, we had a bit of a... breakthrough. We've realized that we work better together rather than against each other."

Hinata's eyes widened in excitement. "Does that mean you two are...?"

Y/N laughed, cutting him off before he could finish. "Yes, Hinata, we're together."

The team erupted in cheers and playful teasing. Nishinoya and Tanaka gave Tsukishima exaggerated thumbs-ups, while Suga and Daichi offered genuine congratulations. Even Kageyama managed a rare smile.

As the team settled down, Tsukishima felt a sense of relief. It felt good to have their support and understanding. He turned to Y/N, who was beaming at him.

"Looks like they approve," she said softly.

"Looks like it," he agreed, squeezing her hand.

Y/N and Tsukishima found solace in each other. They spent their free time studying, hanging out, and sometimes just enjoying each other's company in comfortable silence. The more they learned about each other, the stronger their bond grew.

One evening, after a particularly tough practice session, the team gathered for a casual dinner at a local diner. As they laughed and shared stories, Y/N couldn't help but feel a deep sense of contentment. She glanced at Tsukishima, who was sitting across from her, engaged in a rare, light-hearted conversation with Hinata and Kageyama.

As if sensing her gaze, Tsukishima looked up and met her eyes. He gave her a small, genuine smile that made her heart flutter. In that moment, she knew that the collision they had both longed for had transformed them in ways they hadn't expected.

After dinner, Tsukishima offered to walk Y/N home. The night was cool, and the stars twinkled above them as they strolled through the quiet streets. Y/N leaned into his side, enjoying the warmth of his presence.

"Thank you," Tsukishima said suddenly, his voice breaking the silence.

Y/N looked up at him, puzzled. "For what?"

"For pushing me," he replied. "For believing in me even when I didn't deserve it. You've changed me, Y/N. You've made me want to be a better person."

She smiled, feeling a swell of affection for the boy who had once been her enemy. "And thank you for letting me in. For trusting me. I wouldn't change a thing."

They walked in silence for a while longer, lost in their thoughts. When they reached Y/N's house, Tsukishima hesitated before speaking again.

"Can I ask you something?" he said, his tone uncharacteristically shy.

"Of course," Y/N replied, curious.

"Do you think… do you think this is real? What we have?" he asked, his eyes searching hers for reassurance.

Y/N took his hand, squeezing it gently. "I think it's as real as it gets, Tsukishima. We're not perfect, but we're perfect for each other. And that's what matters."

Relief washed over his face, and he leaned down to kiss her. It was a kiss filled with promise and hope, a symbol of the journey they had taken together.

As they pulled apart, Y/N smiled up at him. "We're unstoppable

, remember?"

He chuckled, nodding. "Yeah, we are."

They said their goodbyes, and as Y/N watched him walk away, she couldn't help but feel excited for the future. They had faced their fears and doubts, and now they were stronger for it. Together, they were ready to take on whatever challenges came their way.

And so, the unstoppable force and the immovable object continued their collision course, hand in hand, ready for whatever the world had in store for them.

[didyoulookforme]

pov: matty finally comes back from tour

just some fluffy and smutty times after he arrives at your place.

this one is longer than usual as it’s one i had in my drafts from a while ago.

warning: 18+, smut. grammatical errors, typos.

word count: ~2,900

masterlist here

———

it was 17:48 and you stood facing your dirty floor length mirror. you kept messing with your hair, doing your best to tame it but nothing seemed to be working as little bits just kept sticking out at the sides. sigh.

today was the day. after many, many weeks (a lifetime, really) matty was finally coming back to london. you'd been counting down the hours for this night since you last hugged him right outside the uber. "don't miss me too much, darling," he whispered before he kissed your lips one more time, hopped inside the car, and left you standing there, alone.

to say you missed him was an understatement. you tried to keep occupied by picking up extra shifts at the cafe, frequenting the cinema by yourself, rearranging your room several times, anything to keep your mind from that messy curly hair and pretty brown eyes. but nothing worked which made you feel sick to your stomach with longing.

every other minute he made his way back into your thoughts whether you wanted him there or not. you missed his stupid, silly grin. you missed his baggy clothes. you missed his hands tangled in yours. you missed seeing him walk through your door.

it was now 18:12 and you finally finished picking out your outfit. some sheer black tights, a short denim skirt and one of his shirts, the flowery one which he accidentally left at your flat years ago. the buttoned top was too large for your frame, but you didn’t care as it very faintly smelled of coffee, cigarettes and matty.

you were choosing a ring next when a knock at the door made your heart jump. the jewellery didn’t matter anymore as you swiftly ran across your hallway, thankful that your flatmate agreed to spend the night elsewhere because she knew what would end up happening. you smirked because you knew she wasn't wrong...

you swung the door open (a bit harder than you meant to) and there he was, holding one single white flower.

“i’m searching for my girlfriend. do you know where she might be?” you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help and laugh at his stupid pickup line. "is that really the best you could come up with during the last few months, healy?"

you stepped forward to wrap your arms around him, nestling your face in the crook of his neck and pulling yourself in as close as humanly possible. his arms found your waist and the both of you stood there while you felt the warm blood rush through your body.

“i missed you, matty” is all you managed to say before you pulled away just far enough to kiss him on the lips which he eagerly welcomed. he tasted of honey and everything was okay again. “i missed you, too, love.” you kissed once more.

you stepped aside to welcome him in, closed the door in front of you, taking a long, deep breath before turning around. he held out the small flower which you gladly took to place in a small bottle half-filled with water. you enjoyed that he was one for cheesy, romantic gestures because deep down you loved them even if you didn't admit to it.

matty sat down on the floor to take off his beat up sneakers. "huh, so i guess that's where my shirt went," he looked up and pointed at the top you wore. you decided to leave the upper three buttons undone which you hoped he would notice. "but it looks much better on you." he definitely noticed.

———

it was now 20:36. you'd both spent a few hours catching up, matty sharing his stories from tour while you made him a very simple but tasty dinner. "you have no idea how much i missed having food that doesn't come in a greasy paper bag." he ate up every single bit of the meal while you just watched from your spot on top of the kitchen counter, glass wine between your hands.

while you missed him when he was gone, you didn't envy the lifestyle of a touring band. it sounded lonely. even though there were many people around you, it appeared they only wanted to get in your bed. matty didn't seem to mind so it made you wonder if anything might’ve happened between him and others...

you continued to sip your wine, taking mental notes of his current appearance. his eyes were tired yet his greenish cardigan made them sparkle. his hair was slightly shorter than you remembered, yet defined curls still framing his face. he wore his usual necklace but there were some new ones added to the mix. you liked them (he knew you would).

when he finished his food, he got up to wash the dirty dishes and store them away. dear matty wasn't one to keep his own home clean but you appreciated his efforts to be better at your place. thank you.

he walked over to you (still on the countertop), snaked his arms around your waist and placed his head on your chest. you set your wine glass aside to play with his hair, soft and fluffy between your fingers. you definitely missed this.

it wasn't long before the both of you sat on the sofa messily kissing as if to make up for the time he was gone. you'd be lying if this wasn't what you’d been looking forward to the most, yet it still caught you by surprise when you found yourself straddling his lap. you realized what happened and it made your face turn red, which matty instantly noticed.

"are you okay, love?" he kissed the corner of your mouth, "we can always stop if you want." he gently ran his hands up and down your thighs to provide some comfort, eyebrows knitted together wondering if he had done something to upset you.

he had done nothing wrong. you hesitated because for once, you wanted to be in control. and knowing that you had mindlessly crawled on top of him made you realize you were about to make that happen. or at least attempt to.

you grabbed his hands in yours, placing them over his head and behind the sofa as his look of concern turned to that of hunger. you bent down to eagerly kiss him, making your way to his neck and leaving small red love bites all over. you could tell he wanted more as his hips started to shift up and down, but you didn't give him the satisfaction just yet. instead you bit down on his neck one last time before placing your forehead against his. "i want to be the one riding you tonight."

you saw as his pupils dilated at your request, his goofy grin starting to appear before your lips found his again to stop him from talking. (this wasn’t the time for cocky remarks, sorry matthew.) you could feel him melt underneath you as his fingers went soft in your grasp. "do you understand?" all he could do was nod before you bit his bottom lip, finally eliciting a moan from him. this was all the confirmation needed to boost your confidence.

matty gazed at you, slowly panting through parted lips as you brought his arms back over his head and placed his palms on your chest. he understood what you needed from him, as he started touching your breasts making you close your eyes and smile. “fuck, i want you.” he began to unbutton your shirt but you quickly swatted his hands away. “not time for that yet, i’m afraid.” the sounds that came from his lips were just heavenly, want dripping from every groan.

now you were the one who started to remove his cardigan, pulling at the fabric of his white shirt underneath until his upper half was bare. “you’re a thing of beauty.” you couldn’t help but kiss him again, holding on to his shoulders hard enough for your nails to dig into his skin, leaving more marks on his body.

you began to slowly grind your hips against him, feeling his excitement through his jeans. his fingers found your hips as he tried to get you to move faster. you stopped.

right away he knew he made a mistake, causing him to groan in frustration and cover his face with his hands. “this is not fair.” seeing him want you this bad was exactly what you had craved when you daydreamed of this scenario.

you removed his hands from his face and pressed a peck on his nose. “just taking my time to see what you do, baby. clearly it’s not your thing.” this made him chuckle but you could feel the tension building on his body as you slid down his lap, placing yourself on your knees right in front of him.

you pressed your cheek against his thigh, innocently looking up at him, batting your eyelashes at a sexually frustrated matty. you didn’t feel too bad for him.

now that you had started to undo his belt, he gazed down at you, bottom lip quivering between his teeth pleading for you to go faster. you managed to unzip his trousers, right away noticing a wet spot on his boxers which you touched with your thumb, swears leaving his mouth the second he felt you finally pay attention to his cock.

you pulled down his jeans which fell to pool at his ankles. you kissed his tip through the thin fabric, hands moving up to hook on the waistband and tugging it down. the dumb expression on his face was priceless. you had him were you wanted and there was nothing he could do about it.

all of his clothing was finally set aside. a naked matty sat right in front of you and you were pretty sure you could do anything. you still didn't feel bad for him.

———

you quickly glanced at your watch, the hands telling you it was 21:42. still on your knees, you decided it was maybe time to give poor matty some relief. he had tried his best after all.

when you started to stroke his cock, his head fell back and the sounds pouring out of his mouth were otherworldly. his hands were to his sides, grabbing at the fabric of the couch as you continued to move your own fingers up and down at a slow but steady pace.

once again you placed your cheek on his leg and looked up at him, taking a mental picture of wet parted lips, unruly brown hair, and slightly closed eyes.

he finally looked back at you, lifting his right hand to run it through your hair. even though you were giving him a hard time, he was gentle with you, knowing that hurried actions weren't going to get him anywhere tonight. you were glad he now understood. even though you wanted to be in control and make him come undone, you still yearned for softness and care, something which you've always wanted from a relationship but were never lucky to receive. this was the closest you've ever been.

you continued to stroke him while you brought your lips to his tip, taking him in your mouth. "fuck, fuck..." you knew it took all of matty's strength to not thrust his hips into you. good boy, you thought.

after a few minutes of licking and sucking, you stopped (sorry matthew), stood up and grabbed his hands in yours to lead him into your room. when the two of you reached your bed, you kissed him for the millionth time that night before gently pushing him into your bed. you both laughed, matty getting settled on your covers, head on your pillow, all while you took off your skirt and tights.

he stared at you getting undressed, doe eyed and sweet, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. ugh, he was perfect you had to admit.

in only your (well, his) shirt and underwear, you crawled on top of him, carefully sitting on his legs. this is how you had pictured this evening, you above him studying his every action.

you started to undo the remaining buttons of the flowered shirt one by one, taking your time getting to the last one. an excited matty lifted himself on his forearms, sucking at his bottom lip when the shirt fell off your arms and realized you had nothing underneath. "god, you're going to be the death of me."

he grabbed a hold of your thigh, drawing slow circles with his thumb wondering what your next move would be. what he wasn't expecting was to see you slide your hand down your panties and to start rubbing your clit. to be honest, neither did you.

but it felt good. you knew how to please yourself better than anyone and it was made infinitely better by having a horny boy gazing in your direction, lusting after you. his hand had stopped caressing your leg and instead he was holding on to it like his life depended on it. you continued to touch yourself, slowly moving your hips along and never breaking eye contact with him.

it wasn't long after that you inserted a finger, making sure he knew exactly what you were doing. you didn't confess that you did this same thing many times while he was gone, thinking of fucking him senseless. that's what you now wanted, too.

you pulled your hand out of your underwear and swiftly took them off in the process, finding yourself naked on top of a patient matty. you didn't waste any more time as you moved forwards, gently touching his lips as he opened his mouth to hungrily suck on your fingers. you wanted him to taste you, his moans reassuring you he was enjoying every second of it.

once your fingers were wet enough, you went straight for his cock again, but moved at a much faster pace than before. the poor boy couldn't keep a hold himself anymore, loud whimpers echoing off the walls and his whole body twitching underneath you. "please, fuck me." that's all you needed to hear before you kneeled forward to place him at your entrance and finally start riding him.

the sensation of him filling you up felt unlike anything else, making you arch your back in hopes of getting even closer to him. you couldn't go slow any longer, but your movements were still calculated, wanting to savour every single moment.

"you feel so good, sweetheart," he managed to mumble out between moans. his head was on the pillow, a lewd expression on his face as you continued to grind your hips against him, his hands firmly holding on to ensure you didn't stop.

your hair started to stick to your body as sweat appeared on your skin. you leaned back a little to keep yourself upright, while also giving him a better view. you knew exactly what you were doing and he took notice. a string of swears stumbled out of him, a look of nothing but hunger across his face as you kept thrusting yourself against him. "matty, please touch me."

you didn't need to ask him twice before he propped himself up to a sitting position and started to grab your breasts while you continued to fuck him. there was no harshness to his touch, which you greatly appreciated, a deep contrast to your hips frantically bucking back and forth on his hard cock.

his mouth went to your neck, placing small kisses wherever he could while moaning your name against your skin. it was all too much and not enough. he cupped your face, resting his forehead against yours, both breathing heavily and quietly laughing at the same time. just as the flower he gave you earlier that day, these cheesy, small gestures were what you craved the most. "matty."

it was at that moment that you hit your high, unable to control your movements any longer and giving yourself permission to let go as he held your body close. your head fell back as he carefully grabbed the side of your neck to ensure you didn't go far. a few seconds later you felt warmth as he came inside you, crying your name once again.

you kept your arms wrapped around each other for a while, him kissing the top of your head asking if you were okay. you nodded against his neck, unable to move much as most of your energy had all been spent.

eventually he fell down on his back and looked at you, “fuckin' hell, that was amazing.” he was still catching his breath, you both were. “maybe i should go on tour more if this is the welcome i get.” that earned him a pillow smack on the side of the head. “don’t get any ideas, healy. you got lucky this time.”

[anghraine]

One thing about the Jackson films that bothers me deeply is that they are uncritically upheld as being full of "positive masculinity." Excuse me? This is the series that has Faramir ordering his men to beat Gollum, Aragorn cutting off the Mouth's head, & Gandalf beating up Denethor on multiple occasions (& kicking him into the pyre!). Sam's meanness toward Gollum, while understandable, is never questioned as it is in the book. Frodo is delusional to pity Gollum. Killing is fun, & mercy is silly.

Belatedly, I do agree. I get that the Anglophone media landscape can feel so saturated by absurdly reductive representations of masculinity that what the films do inherit from Tolkien in terms of emotional expression, friendship etc can feel revolutionary. But the films make a lot of minor and major adjustments to transform the story's visions of masculinity to something more conventional and particularly more violent in a way that is often endorsed by the narrative, or at least framed as an understandable if unfortunate exigency of war.

I once pointed out that Aragorn killing the Mouth of Sauron, an ambassador—however distasteful—is something that essentially operates on the worst kind of superhero logic, a sort of good vs evil righteousness-justifies-the-means thing. It's really glaring when based on a book where the character closest to the author is like "it's one thing, however regrettable, to fight to the death to defend ourselves and our people, but morally, evil deeds beyond self-defense cannot be justified by a righteous cause, not even lying to an orc."

Tolkien's version of the Mouth is an evil Númenórean sorcerer who, while he cannot really contend with Aragorn in a battle of wills, is nevertheless a person of the same kind and general capabilities who chose to serve Sauron. The way that the films use design to literally dehumanize the Mouth, to wholly distance him from the heroes he's literally akin to, and justify straight-up killing him although he poses no personal threat, because he's ugly and evil and (evilly) taunting them so they're mad and it's cool—yeah. It's not really that far removed from Gandalf clobbering Denethor being framed as a bit comedic and a bit cathartic, and seems part of a pervasive ethos of the films that seems to have completely fallen out of discussion of them.

I think we especially see this with the handling of not just my main faves, but Frodo, who really suffers in this more conventionally masculine framework. I often felt like the films want the real protagonists to be Aragorn and (to an extent) Sam, and Frodo feels a bit like dead weight from fairly early on. Adorable dead weight, but still, Tolkien's Frodo especially feels like a challenge to this kind of narrative ethos that the films are just not really up to handling.

It's not that everything about masculinity in the films is Terrible Actually, but I do think there are some unfortunate patterns like the ones you mention. And I'm constantly being recommended videos and posts about Aragorn (or others, but mostly Aragorn) as this unproblematic ideal of masculinity where I'm just ... yeah, no. He is interesting to me, including in the context of masculinity specifically, but I absolutely cannot buy the ideal positive masculinity thing.

[smolwritingchick]

Smol Brainstorm/Oneshot: Just Let Me Get It Out Of My System

Words: 4,000+

Author's Note: Ok Ok do you remember when Jungkook rapped Ddaeng? When he did this and I saw it years ago this idea sparked in my head. This has some smut in it so if you're not into smut then just ignore it. I actually really liked this and hope to put it in the story when I get to that point after tweaking it once again. So here, let this hold ya!

This would take place well after JenKook are established in pleasuring each other. Both of them are confident in bed and know each other's bodies well by this point. I feel like Jennie would be a switch and once in a while act bratty at times in bed. I kind of get brat tamer vibes from this scenario. Kinda?? In this, she definitely wanted to be in control this time around but Jungkook had other plans when she drove him crazy, lol.

--------

Nah...this was not OK. Nowhere near OK.

How dare he? Does he not understand how this was making her feel?

There Jen stood on stage watching along with the rest of the members as Jungkook rapped a part of Ddaeng. Aggressively might she add. He rapped so well. Jungkook always gave it 1000%. But his appearance was beginning to distract her while she attempted to put how sexy he looked in the back of her mind.

She failed instantly. 

Usually, she would not act this way about him on stage but tonight it was just something about him that was making her feel some type of way. A type of way that made her feel a familiar ache between her legs.

‘What he so loud for?’ she thought, mesmerized as she watched him.

Was it his hair? How fluffy it appeared and framed his handsome features?

She loved that he was growing it out. It gave her extra excuses to run her fingers through it. Long hair suited him well and it seemed like he wasn’t going to be cutting it, anytime soon. If not the hair, was it his voice? He sounded sexy when rapping.

‘Not the time or place, sis,’ she scolded herself, attempting to push the dirty thoughts away.

Okay, but what about his outfit? Because damn, he was looking good. 

Actually, screw it. It was all of the above and again, it was not OK.

Miss Bangtan went on to turn her attention to the crowd, hyping them up with the rest of the members because of how her body was getting worked up. She needed to keep it professional and put these aroused thoughts in the back of her mind.

One thing is for sure, she was going to get this man alone, tonight. No ifs, ands, or buts. Nobody was going to ruin her impromptu dick appointment.

----------------

After the show, the members were safely dropped off at the hotel, coming off from the excitement of the fifth muster. They chatted amongst themselves about the show and what they wanted to eat.

“All right, Korean BBQ it is. Make sure you’re ready in 20.” Namjoon confirmed what they were eating for a late dinner.

“We’ll meet at the lobby,” Yoongi added as they all agreed.

On the floor where their rooms were, Jennie walked behind the guys and Jungkook walked beside her. All those dirty thoughts she had about him this evening came back as she impatiently waited for an opportunity to get him alone. Once the guys were distracted with their own conversations as they walked down the hall, Jennie firmly grabbed Jungkook's hand and began to lead him in a different direction. The direction of her room as they left the rest behind, who were oblivious of their absence. 

“Babe?” Jungkook asked softly.

If only he knew how hard it was to not jump his bones right there...

When she didn't answer him, he raised an eyebrow and watched her curiously as she led him to the door of her room. The room she had all to herself after beating the members in rock, paper, scissors. Once she opened it, she let him go in first and quickly followed in. It was a master suite and Jungkook understood why the members were profoundly upset when Jennie won the game. The room was huge with a dining table, king sized bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen area. 

After tossing his bag on the couch, he turned around to see Jennie tossing her room key and bag on the floor. 

“What—” before he could finish his sentence, her lips crashed against his, hurriedly. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck, smooching him for dear life as she held him close. Before he knew it, her tongue had eased its way to brush up against his. The heated gesture prompted him to kiss back, placing his hands on her hips. Whatever had gotten into her, he wasn't complaining.

Pulling away to breathe, her hands roamed over to his jacket, yanking it off. She then proceeded to walk him back to where the bedroom was.

Wasting no time, she lightly shoved him on the king-sized bed. She watched as his back hit the soft sheets while the sounds of his soft panting filled her ears. He looked taken aback by her behavior and prompted himself up on his elbows.

She glanced at his lap. It looked enticing with his legs spread out. Just waiting for her to take a seat. After removing his black bucket hat and tossing it aside, he watched as she stripped down to her underwear. With hungry eyes, he stared at her exposed skin, feeling his jeans getting tighter.

They're supposed to meet everyone in the lobby in less than 20 minutes, right? Well, everyone was going to have to wait.

No longer wondering what was happening, he sat up and reached out for her.

"Get over here," he demanded in a low voice, pulling her to him by the hand. 

With him on the edge of the bed, she straddled him, placing her knees on each side of him. She closed the gap, kissing him again, hands roaming down his chest. She felt that a few buttons were unbuttoned from his shirt. Feeling impatient, she ripped open his shirt and the loud pop of buttons filled their ears. The buttons flew all over the floor and she quickly peeled the shirt off, tossing it away.

Cupping his face, she went in for a deep kiss, while his hands slowly roamed down her body. The sensations between her legs became prominent once she began grinding into him. The action caused Jungkook to groan softly into the kiss, gripping her hips tighter.

"Baby..." he breathed out against her lips once she moved again.

If she kept this up, he wasn't going to be able to control what he was going to do to her. Whatever her intentions were, her being in charge of this was on thin ice. 

Not when she teased him like this.

The Golden Maknae definitely planned to take over soon. But for now, he allowed her to have her fun and let her believe that she would dominate tonight. Jennie moved at a slow pace, driving him crazy. The more she moved, the more she felt him hardening. Just what she wanted.

Everything she was doing with him felt good as her need for him grew. She needed him badly and already felt ready for him as her panties were soaked. They hardly did anything yet he had this effect on her. Pulling back, her lips traveled down to his neck while his breathing became more audible. He let out a few curses as she lightly nipped and sucked on his neck until she found his sweet spot.

A sharp gasp escaped her lips when he moved his hips harder against hers. It seemed like he wanted this as much as she did, meeting his lustful gaze.

“You rapping tonight was too sexy,” she spoke up. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting to get you alone? How much I’ve been wanting to ride you?”

That made him widen his eyes. Sure she topped before but he had never seen her in this state of mind after a show. He made her like this because of the way he rapped, tonight?

“Just...just let me get this out of my system and then we can meet with the guys, all right?" she proposed, with urgency in her voice. "Right now, I need you. And I need you to fuck me. Can you do that for me?”

All she wanted was a quickie. She wanted to get railed and then get ready to go out to eat. 

Processing her words, Jungkook couldn’t help but chuckle and slowly lick his lips. His doe eyes darkened as he suggestively raised an eyebrow. She squirmed at the sight of the tempting smirk on his features.

He leaned over to her ear, making her shiver. "You need me that bad, huh? I can do that for you."

That's all she needed to hear as she softly bit her bottom lip and pushed him back down on the bed. He watched as she went to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants.

"Follow my lead," she answered and she pulled his pants and boxers down.

'I'll follow your lead for now. But we're both going to know who is leading tonight when I'm done letting you have your fun,' he thought to himself as very physical ideas popped into his head.

She heard him mention that he had condoms somewhere in his bag, but she shook her head and took out one from her bra, handing it to him. 

"Came prepared," she said proudly as he proceeded to put it on his length.

She was so ready to sit on him but before they could proceed, they heard her phone ringing from her pants. Annoyance briefly flashed on Jennie's face as she had a feeling who was calling. 

"Answer it," Jungkook stated.

"Answer it? Are you going to stay quiet when I talk?" 

"Maybe," he grinned mischievously as he sat up, getting close to her face.

"Kookie..." she warned, earning a light chuckle from him.

She reached over to her jeans while he held her so she wouldn't fall over. Back safely on his lap with her phone in her hands, she looked at the called ID. Surprisingly it was Namjoon and not Jin who called.

"Yeah?" she answered.

"Nini, you almost ready? We're downstairs waiting," his deep voice filled her ears.

"Um...go without us, we'll catch up, Namjoon," she replied while he immediately understood.

He laughed at her statement. "Okay. Don't be too long,"

"Give me the phone," she heard Jin in the background. It sounded like he snatched the phone from him as he began to ask questions. "Where in the world are you? Are you almost ready?! We're waiting!"

Before she could answer, Jungkook took the opportunity to trail light kisses around her neck, making her eyes flutter. 

"Are you there, Jennie? Hello? Are you seriously ignoring World Wide Handsome Jin?"

She cleared her throat, pulling away while giving Jungkook a warning glance. He was going to get it for being this playful in a situation like this.

"...yes...I'm still here, Jin," she put an emphasis on his name as a signal to Jungkook. But he didn't care and persisted in kissing and nipping at her neck.

This little shit...

Jennie fought back the moan that threatened to escape. One wrong sound and it was over. Jungkook didn't seem to mind. He always loved a challenge and the thrill of getting caught these days. 

“We're all waiting in the lobby. I want my BBQ, so hurry it up, will you?" Jin exclaimed.

Struggling not to make any sounds from what her man was doing, she stammered, “So-rry. Be down in-a-few!”

“You sound weird. Is everything okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

She should have just hung up right then and there because Jungkook began to laugh. 

“Hey! Why is that troublemaker laughing? Jungkook is with you? What are you two doing?!" the oldest member demanded.

"Let's give her another five minutes. If not then she'll just meet us there. You know how she likes to take forever getting ready for things," Namjoon grabbed the phone back, trying to ease the situation for the young lovers.

She heard him end the call as she shook her head and tossed her phone on the bed.

"I can't stand you for doing that,"' she playfully scolded Jungkook.

"It's fun messing with him," he responded and pulled her in for another heated kiss.

She pushed him back down to continue where they had stopped.

"We don't need much foreplay, I'm already ready for you," she admitted, biting her bottom lip softly.

“Yeah, I can feel it. All this from me rapping? I'll make sure to do it again,” he looked pleased to be the one to get her like this.

"You might have to," she said before letting out a sharp gasp when she slowly sat down on his length.

She let out a curse and used his chest for support. When he felt her sit down, he let out a breathy moan and threw his head back. She felt so good around him. Something he'll never get enough of.

"Go slow for me," he directed. "I want to see you enjoy yourself,"

He knew how much she wanted to go fast to get a quick release. The whole point was to have a quickie but he wanted to take it slow first. Regardless, he was going to make it worth it.

His statement made her feel flushed. Over the past few years, his confidence in their intimacy has grown with patience and communication. And he had always made her feel sexy. This time was no exception.

At a slow pace, she moved up and down, closing her eyes in bliss. It had been a while since she topped and she almost forgot how good it felt as soft moans fell from her lips. Jungkook watched in delight as her face scrunched up in pleasure, enjoying the view. After a while, she had found a steady rhythm, bouncing on him, sensually. He was captivated by her. A gorgeous view all to himself. His warm hands roamed around her body as he gazed intently into her eyes.

"That's it...keep going. You look beautiful like this," he admired her.

His hands wandered around her chest. The yellow set she had on complimented her dark skin and he contemplated ripping it off and flipping her over. Finally joining in, he gripped her hips to guide her. As he lifted his hips up, he guided her down to meet his. The movement caused her to whimper his name loudly and he slightly increased the pace.

"You always take me so well,” he praised.

His words made her involuntarily clench around him and he let out a loud moan, slowing down his movements. The way he sounded made her squirm. It was so sexy, she wanted to hear it again. Jungkook, however, was about to snap and gave her a dark, sensuous gaze.

"Jennie...if you do that again, you're going to be in trouble," he warned with a growl.

Did he just...growl underneath her? That sounded even hotter.

"Am I?" she asked innocently.

"Try me,"

She was amused to see him like this. He was the one who messed with her first when she was on the phone, so why not have a little payback?

Jen had no clue what she was in for because Jungkook was always unpredictable in and out of the bedroom. But she took a chance and chose to be hard-headed as she clenched around him again.

Jungkook growled out a loud curse and swiftly sat up, taking her by surprise. Having enough, he gripped her hips and guided her up and down at a faster pace. Snapping his strong hips up against hers, he made her cry out louder than she ever had tonight. She dug her nails into his back and held onto him for dear life. He wasn't kidding when he said she would be in trouble. She was becoming undone by each deep thrust as desperate whimpers escaped her along with his heavy breaths.

"Are you close?" he asked, picking up the pace as he loved how she responded to him.

"Fuck...J-J..." she whined.

She felt herself getting close, feeling an overwhelming amount of pleasure.

"Does it feel too good? You don't want me to stop, do you?" he teased.

She couldn't speak as she shook her head.

"Use your words, baby girl," he demanded.

"N-no, don't st-op-ah!"

Feeling her high approaching, the ecstasy of his thrusts began to make her squirm. It felt so good. So good. But she felt like she wasn't going to be able to withstand it any longer. Jungkook felt her writhe and try to get out of his grip while he proceeded to make her into a moaning mess with his hips.

"Mm-mm," he shook his head and enveloped his arms around her waist firmly. "Remember what you asked for. Isn't this what you wanted?"

He wanted to put her pleasure first and she was going to take it.

"You're not getting off of me until you're fully satisfied," he said as she clung onto him again, scratching his back.

It boosted his pride to see and hear her like this. He knew he was doing his job right, giving her what she wanted.

"You can do it," he encouraged as he felt that she was going to release any moment. "You can handle it. Just let go, baby. Let go for me,"

That was all she needed to hear as she cried out his name, release washing over her. Jennie's body trembled fiercely from how strong her high was because of him. Jungkook's release followed as a low moan escaped him, slowing down his movements. While he stopped thrusting, breathing heavily against her neck, he noticed her body was still shuddering. All because of him and it was a spectacle he wanted to see more often if he could do what he just did again.

"Good girl..." he praised as he felt her shakes come to an end. 

Once their breathing slowed down, she let a low chuckle, murmuring, "Shit..."

She had to take a moment to recollect herself. Fucked up was an understatement but she was well pleased. She never had such an intensified release like this. No matter how much she scratched and pulled his hair, he wouldn't let up and got her to this state. Moving away from his neck, she went in to kiss him, taking in the moment. Gosh, she loved him.

Taking a look at her, Jungkook regarded her cheeks looking wet. Had she been crying? The pleasure felt so good she had shed some tears.

"You okay?" he asked tenderly, wiping her tears with his thumb.

“Mm-hm. I feel great thanks to you. I just hope I can walk," she lightly joked.

"I'll carry you if you can't," he grinned.

"How will we explain that to the guys?"

"You hit your leg on the table of your suite," he suggested, making her chuckle.

"What about you? Are you okay?” she brushed his hair back that was sticking to his forehead.

“I am now that you’re feeling good. Remind me to rap more often to get you like this,"

She got off of him and felt that her legs were a bit wobbly but she managed to walk. Glancing at the floor, she noticed the buttons of his shirt scattered around.

“Oh no,” she said, embarrassed, "I did it again! I should really stop doing that so I won't have to keep buying you shirts to replace the ones I rip,"

She had a bad track record of ripping some of his shirts when they got too passionate. 

“Don’t worry about it," Jungkook smiled in reassurance after he threw away the condom. "I love it when you do it. Let's shower,"

"All right. And we need to think of an alibi. I'm thinking this time we can be late because we were shopping for snacks at a store. I'll buy extra snacks for Jin. You know once he sees them, he forgets about everything else,"

He grinned at the idea. "Believable. I'll get the shower ready,"

After gathering the outfit she was going to wear, Jennie went to meet Jungkook in the bathroom and noticed some of the scratches she made on his back. 

"Oh gosh, your back," she pointed out, feeling a little bad.

"Hm?" he turned and checked out his back in the bathroom mirror.

A few visible scratches from their physical activity. Nothing bad at all. In fact, he liked them.

"It's a sign I did a good job," he said, feeling cocky. "I mean you were shaking because of me,"

He watched as she playfully rolled her eyes while her cheeks burned up at the thought. He was not going to forget making her tremble tonight. No way. Not the way her body reacted to him. She was not going to hear the end of it.

“How’s the water?” she asked, looking at the shower that was running. 

Her shower playlist from her speaker played in the background as she awaited his response. 

“Nice and ready for us,” he gestured for her to go in first after she stripped out of her bra and panties.

But when she stepped in and felt the water hit her, she yelped and jumped out.

“Jungkook! What the hell!? It’s freezing cold!”

The Golden Maknae laughed loudly at how startled she was and blocked her ongoing punches. She was so easy to mess with.

“Annoying~! Cut it out!" she laughed and changed the water setting so it could heat up.

When they got in, Jungkook continued his playful behavior.

"Oh my gosh, would you move?" she complained as he purposely blocked her way so she couldn't reach her body wash. 

"What? I'm not doing anything," he replied innocently. "Oh, you're reaching for this?" he grabbed the body wash.

"Yes, give it," she reached out for it but he lifted his arm up high.

"A kiss first," he negotiated.

She gave him another glare as he puckered his lips. Closing the gap, she gave him the lip lock he wanted. When they pulled away, he smiled victoriously and handed her the body wash. They helped wash each other as the hot water relaxed their bodies. The shower was enjoyable and they danced and sang 'Done For Me' by Charlie Puth and Kehlani. 

Feeling him poke her butt for the third time of their shower, she retaliated by smacking his. Her hit caused him to yelp while she giggled at his reaction. Following Jungkook rinsing off, he almost slipped which made her laugh wholeheartedly. 

“Not funny!"

“That’s what you get for putting cold water on me," she stuck her tongue out at him.

After getting out of the shower and getting situated, Jennie checked her phone to see a message from Namjoon not too long ago. It was to inform her that they went on to the restaurant. At least they wouldn't be super late. 

She put on a white tank top, jeans, and her Nike brand sneakers she had released. She noticed that Jungkook had coordinated with her, wearing his white shirt, Timberlands, and jeans. She placed his large black hoodie on herself, so she could stay warm if the store's air conditioning was too cool for her skin. 

"And before we forget. Concealer," she remembered. 

Jungkook took a seat on the toilet and watched as she placed her dark colored concealer and his on the bathroom counter. Approaching him, she went to take care of concealing his neck first so they could hide their passionate marks.

------------------

When they made it to the store, they grabbed a cart and explored the aisles.

"Okay...those chips Jin likes have to be somewhere," Jennie murmured while Jungkook pushed the cart. "Ah-ha!"

She placed two bags in the cart. "Oh, and these. Tae eats these cookies. I tried them and it's pretty good. Have you?"

"Yeah, but I've been wanting to eat your cookies, again. Can you bake soon? I can help if you want," he asked.

She smiled at the idea, "Yeah, let's do that. Might as well buy some cookie mix while we're in here,"

Fooling around, Jennie sat inside the cart, careful not to crush the snacks. She enjoyed riding in the cart while Jungkook pushed it through each aisle. Before they went to check out their items, he took out his phone to take a selfie. He held the camera up high and stood in front of the cart. He had a silly expression on his face while Jennie posed excitedly with all the snacks, holding up a few bags of chips and candy. After clicking away, he stood beside her to check out the pictures. They laughed at how silly they looked and she encouraged him to post it on Twitter.

He tweeted the photo with the caption, 'Snacks! Nom Nom Nom! #JK'

Tweets under JenKook's selfie came through at a rapid rate, with ARMY gushing over the couple.

‘Omg they’re so cute'

'You two look perfect together'

'awwwwww'

'wtf this is so cute'

'golden duo at it again'

'they look so happy'

'Jennie is in the cart hahaha'

'omg another JenKook post! Finally! We were starving!'

'This is typical JenKook energy lol'

The members, who were already seated at the restaurant and on their phones, saw the post. They began to tweet out their reactions, making ARMY laugh at their banter.

‘Are you telling me you kids have been snack shopping this entire time while we're waiting for you to eat? #Suga'

'Kekekeke. #V'

'Share! #JM'

'YOU'VE BEEN AT THE STORE ALL THIS TIME!? #Jin'

‘Hurry up so we can eat! #Jin'

‘LOL! We’re on our way, sheesh #Jen’

[nectardaddy]

notebook paper | hinata shoyo

chapter seven | it's a party [ ✎ ]

masterlist

ignore timestamps

Putting the car in park, and quickly sending out an I'm here text, he swore he found himself spiraling. Leg bouncing in a methodical rhythm as anxiety got the best of him, and brown eyes flickered to the door just outside his car window.

"Man, I think I'm already drunk," a loud voice from the back of the car rang out, followed by an, even more obnoxious, laugh.

"We're not even there yet! If you puke in this car with me in it, Bo, I'll kill you," the man next to him grumbled before shifting his eyes out the window. "Holy shit, pipsqueak, is that her?"

Seeing the frame of a woman exit the door he was previously looking at, he couldn't help but grin. A smile that pulled hard on his cheeks before looking back at his friends, "yeah!"

"My man can pull!" The loud voice returning in a cheer as he leaned, far over, Oikawa to look out the window. "Dude, you weren't kidding! She's pretty!" Before he could say anything else, he was shoved off harshly, followed by a rough "get off of me!"

"I know!" Matching the energy of Bokuto as he turned his head to look at her, "I can't believe she said yes! This is like the greatest day of my life!"

But the loud voices abruptly stopped as the car door opened and shut, the woman getting in with a smile and a soft chuckle. "I didn't know this was the greatest day of your life. I thought I was pretty boring, honestly."

Hinata's cheeks burned at her words, and his friend's laughter that followed made him sink in his seat. "You heard that?" Hands finding themselves in auburn hair as he let out a nervous chuckle.

"You were yelling, it was hard not to. But thanks." Giving him a small smile that made his heart skip a beat.

A simple statement that made Oikawa cackle with laughter at his roommate's reaction. "Holy shit! Shrimpy look at your face!"

"Shrimpy?" She asked, a laugh leaving her lips as she looked back at the brunette, "I've heard better insults from middle schoolers."

"Oh my god! Sho, she's fucking awesome!" Bokuto grabbed his friend's shoulders from behind, reaching from the backseat and shaking him. Making the man laugh in return, anxiety washing away from Bokuto's strong personality. Stark hazel eyes flickered over to her, a drunken smile upon his lips. "Tonight is gonna' be so much fun!"

One single sentence held the tone for the evening.

Brown eyes watched as she laughed at every joke, smile at him like no one else was in the room, and take his hand when he offered to dance with her - and, oh my god, were the only words in his head when she did.

Taking in every inch of her in awe was an understatement - he was a doomed man. The way she flourished in conversation with him - speaking of things that interested her, silly memories from the past, right down to outrageous stories from school - made him all but reel.

He swore he fell hard for her that night, skinning his own knees from the force of it. Finding himself walking her to her door by the end of the evening, out of generosity, and for the sole fact he simply couldn't bring himself to see the night end. He hoped this wasn't an outlandish fairytale, where she would whisk herself off at the stoke of midnight.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" The question slipping easily from his tongue just as her hand reached for the doorknob; but he watched as his hopes slipped right through his fingers as her smile faltered.

"Teaching," she said with a wry smile. "And after I'm probably gonna' sleep for the rest of the day, honestly." At least she was honest, he thought.

"Right, I'm sorry." Giving her a nervous chuckle in response after, "I did keep you out pretty late."

"Don't worry about it, I had a lot of fun."

"So did I."

It wasn't as if he expected anything from the woman, he wholeheartedly didn't even believe she would agree to going today anyway. But he felt his heart strings pull as she opened her door, stopping in the door way to give him a smile. "I'll text you, ok?"

"Alright, have a good night."

"Have a good night, shrimpy."

And just like that, she closed the door, leaving him with a silly grin on his lips.

I'm sorry for having one measly screenshot - I got really into the writing

but I am so in love with this man!!

yn changed his contact name to shrimpy <3

hinata can fucking dance oh my god

he does that really cheesy shit where he took her hand and spun her around (giggling and kicking my feet just thinking about it he's adorable)

he's down horrendously now - he doesn't care if it's been a few days

both bokuto and oikawa were passed tf out in his car and he had to shake them awake when they got home

yn was very tempted to wake up suga and tell him about how the night went

taglist under cut

@muyyie @wyrcan @eggyrocks @eclecticeggknightpsychic @nbcvs

@marzzn @naweirdo @yukii-1 @girlkissersco @yuminako @kunimix

@empress-pug-pug @cherrypieyourface @lvtilzs @punkhazardlaw @localgaytrainwreck

@crownj1min @sereniteav @madiexuberant @st4rdusttx @chizunata

@le000xxgrd