#i didn't notice the pattern until she pointed it out

[nadjabear]

Me: "Yeah I've been listening to the audiobook I'm Glad My Mom Died and it's been pretty good so far" Friend: "That book is so sad tho"

5 minutes later

Me: "Look I just read this one and it was pretty good!" *points to My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness* Friend: "That looks like it's a pretty depressing book" Me: "It is but it's really good :D"

Another 5 minutes pass

Me: "Alright I'm going to buy this book!" Friend: "What's the name?" Me: "The summer Hikaru died" Friend: "WHY ARE YOU ONLY READING SAD BOOKS!?"

[roraimae]

all the romancable DAO companions really just start falling for the warden if you're simply nice to them, huh

[kamaluhkhan]

in my head, i play a supercut of us

pairing: conrad fisher x fem!reader

summary: you come back to cousins beach after a few years away. conrad is not particularly happy that you're back - and you aren't particularly thrilled, either. too bad there's a history (chemistry?) neither of you can deny.

warnings: drinking + smoking. lots of plot + flashbacks. there is some mention of injuries, body issues/self esteem (reader is a competitive swimmer), complicated family dynamics (reader is eldest daughter), slight allusion to alcoholism.

a/n: ohhh this turned out much longer than i expected it to be!! honestly i have so many ideas that this will probably become a series. for now please enjoy the summer, childhood friends to lovers to strangers vibes ;)

you still crave lemonade, but the taste doesn't satisfy you as much as it used to. you still crave summer, but sometimes you mean summer, five years ago. (alida nugent)

now — summer, age 18

driving up to the beach house after so many summers have passed, you’re struck with the memory of your first time swimming. 

it was mid-june in cousins; you must have been four years old. you stood on the edge of the pool for an eternity, until your father became impatient and threw you into the deep end. you screamed, imagined your lungs being filled with cold water, drowning in darkness. your neighbour had run over when he heard, and your father had to hold him back from jumping in to save you. instead, your life jacket kept you afloat, and soon enough you were kicking as though it was the most natural thing in the world. you discovered your love of swimming that afternoon and in that your father found his star athlete. you also realized your love for conrad fisher, the boy next door.

your summers in cousins, the friends you’d met here, conrad fisher — these composed your metaphorical lifejacket, once preserving your childhood. you’d taken it off for too long, spent years in the deep end alone, keeping yourself afloat, moving towards a carefully constructed future. now it all started to crumble, and here you were again, a different person; you wondered if the others were different, too. 

it wasn't your first choice to come back to cousins, but you were determined to make the most of it. after unpacking your things, you decide to make your way to the beck house, right next door to your own family’s. 

you knock once, twice, three times. there's no answer, so you figure that everyone is either in town or at the beach. you start to walk away when you hear the front door open. 

"excuse me!" laurel park's voice calls. you turn around, and the shock on laurel's face is clear. "y/n! oh my god, i almost didn't recognize you!" 

"four summers can do that," you note. 

you hear your name from inside the house, and before you know it, belly conklin excitedly runs out and tackles you in a hug. 

"hey, bells," you laugh. you notice how dressed up she is, something that changed from the oversized t-shirts and patterned shorts you remember her always wearing. "cute dress. where are you off to?" 

"oh. there's a high tea at the country club. sort of like an introduction for the debutante season." 

you raise an eyebrow, looking past belly towards laurel. "is this a lemon jelly belly situation?" you’re referring to the code phrases you used to exchange for different situations, depending on different flavours of jelly beans: pear, toasted marshmellow, lemon. it might have been childish (you were kids at the time), but it always worked. more than anyone, you know what it’s like to be pushed into something too quickly, too soon. even after all these years, and even though belly is only two years younger, your instinct is to defend her at all times.

"possibly," laurel sighs. 

"it's not," belly insists, giving her mother a pointed look. "i wanted to try something new this summer, and susannah promised it would be fun." 

the two of you walk back towards the house. when you reach the door, laurel brings you into a tight hug. the three of you walk into the kitchen, and you find yourself taking the seat you had once claimed as your own — a stool at the counter, third from the left. belly settles down next to you, and laurel grabs a pitcher of sweet tea from the fridge while you reach over to take three glasses from the drying rack. 

belly explains more about the debutante season, and mentions that steven and jeremiah are both working at the club this summer. she doesn't get around to what conrad is up to, because laurel suddenly checks her watch, then sighs. 

"i hate to cut this reunion short, but belly, we'd better leave if we want to make that tea of yours." 

"right." belly looks at you with a frown, like she's worried you'll disappear if you're out of sight. "i'll see you later?"

you smile, reaching over to squeeze her hand. "i'll be here all summer," you promise, and belly beams.

"you’re coming to my book party?" laurel asks, though it's more of a statement than a question.

"yeah, sure," you promise, sipping your sweet tea. "i'll see you guys there." 

with one final see you later and another hug from belly, you're left alone in the kitchen. you wonder if the fishers still keep the cereal in the same cabinet; if their cupboards are filled with the same sugary snacks you were never allowed to have, but you and the boys would sneak when the adults weren’t looking. 

"y/n, my little mermaid, is that you?" 

susannah always called you her little mermaid — inspired by your love of swimming, yes, but also that one summer you were convinced that mermaids were real, so you and belly spent hours looking for clues on the beach and painting your nails iridescent turquoise. all the adults scoffed at you, but susannah was the only one who played along, who allowed you to believe that magic was real.

instantly, you rise from your seat and hug susannah.

"you have no idea how happy i am that you're here this summer," susannah whispers. as you break away from your hug, susannah places her hands on your cheeks. she looks happy and healthy, if a little tired. you can't help but think of the years you’d been gone when susannah and her family were dealing with so much. there was only so much connection texts, calls, and emails could provide. to be here now, seeing susannah fisher alive and well? 

it was almost too much.

tears threaten to spill, but you swallow them. instead, you reply: "so am i." and, certainly more than before, you mean it.

“conrad’s out back if you want to come say hi. i’m painting his portrait. he’s been a bit down lately, but if anyone can make him feel better, it’s you.”

you feel your cheeks heat up. you finish the rest of your sweet tea and put your glass in the dishwasher, not quite feeling ready to face conrad — there was a complicated history between the two of you. unresolved tension, hurtful words, that sort of thing.

“i’ll, uh, let you keep painting. i should go get ready for laurel’s book party.”

“alright. i’ll see you there, sweetie.”

“yeah,” you confirm. you start to walk away before hearing susannah’s voice again:

“and, y/n?” you turn around. “i’m so glad you’re home.”

later that night, at laurel's book launch party, you watch conrad pour another glass of wine, and wonder whether or not you should join him. his eyes catch yours from across the room, but he quickly looks away. belly ended up having a date, she'd texted you earlier, and you were roped into a conversation with your mother and susannah before you could find stephen or jeremiah. 

"they grow up so fast," susannah muses. she then wraps an arm around your shoulder. "i can't believe that our eldests are 18! conrad’s off to brown in the fall — how about you, y/n?”

“princeton,” your mother boasts, draining the rest of her cup and grabbing another from a tray passing by. that’s her third glass, by your count. “we were so proud. it’s the best women’s swim team in the country.”

“stanford is a close second,” you interject. “besides, we don’t even know if i can start swimming for real by then.”

you’d broken your ankle a month and a half before. it didn’t need surgery yet and you were out of your cast, but you couldn’t return to your usual level of activity for a while — which meant no training camp, like you’d been going to the past few summers.

“you know, i did always picture you on the west coast,” susannah smiles at you. “all those beaches and sunshine.”

your mother frowns, ignoring susannah. “don’t be ridiculous. if you spend the summer doing your physical therapy and resting, you’ll be back in the water before we know it. your father and i agreed — that’s why you’re here.”

you resist the urge to argue with her and instead block her out as she brags about your siblings getting top prizes in their academic decathalon. the twins were thirteen now and had plans with their friends tonight, sparing them from attending this event. no offence to laurel or susannah, of course, but you’d rather be with your friends.

when you look for conrad once more, you notice that he's been roped into a conversation with laurel and someone who your mom had pointed out as cleveland castillo. even after all these years, you can tell when he needs backup: the impatient tapping of his foot, his eyes searching the room for an out.

after excusing yourself from the conversation, you make your way over to conrad. 

"hey," you greet, nodding at laurel and cleveland. "mind if i borrow this guy? we've got some catching up to do." if either laurel or cleveland said anything more after yes, then you don't hear them, already pulling conrad away.

you lead him to the back corner of the room, near a small couch. neither of you make a move to sit; neither of you say anything. up close, you could see the shadows under his eyes, the creases in between his brows. he was always quiet, the more calm and thoughtful one of the group, but always with soft edges, especially when it came to you. now, quiet could have been replaced with brooding, and all those soft edges seem sharper.

“so,” you start. you grab the wine from conrad’s hand and take a sip. “are you gonna keep ignoring me, or are you gonna welcome me back?”

“when my mom said you were back, i didn’t believe her.” conrad looks at you, his face still. “i wish you hadn’t come back.” 

stung, you take a deep breath. after everything, conrad thought that was the best way to greet you? if cold and closed off was how conrad wanted to act, you could play that game, too.

“fuck you,” is all you say before joining jeremiah and steven on the other side of the room.

steven’s eyes widen once they land on you. "no fucking way. y/n!" steven exclaims. "thought you'd never come back here, man." there’s a joyful undertone to his comment as he smiles. same old steven: always blunt, always laughing. 

"yeah, well, i’m here.”

jeremiah just beams at you, picking you up and spinning you around. 

“jere,” you giggle, half scolding, fully floating.

“sorry, sorry!” he laughs, setting you down. “i just — i can’t believe you’re here. how come you didn’t tell me you were coming?”

“yeah, well.” you shrug. “i thought you liked surprises.”

“well, i do. especially if it involves seeing you.”

"yo, speaking of surprises — what if we ditch this party and surprise belly at the drive-in?" stephen suggests.

you shake your head, though leaving was very tempting. 

"or, instead of ruining your sister's first date, we get some booze, light a fire, and go get drunk on the beach," you suggest.

"oh, i am so down!" jeremiah exclaims. "you've got my vote." 

“hell yeah.” steven grins and throws his arm around your shoulder. "you always did know how to show us a good time."

then — summer, age 11

you had plenty of bonfires before, on the beach with your parents, but that summer marked the first one with just the kids. you begged and begged, and eventually the adults were okay with it since conrad had earned his boy scout badge for fire safety in the spring.

it was the beginning of july, and an unseasonably cold evening — basically, perfect bonfire weather. jeremiah helped susannah make hot chocolate for everyone. belly wanted s'mores, so you had biked with her to the store earlier that day for the ingredients. everyone was stuffing their faces with slightly burnt marshmallows as melted chocolate and graham cracker crumbs decorated your cheeks, and you chased it all down with lukewarm chocolatey liquid. you were kids and it was summer; life was sweet, life was good. 

"conrad," steven announced, turning to the boy who was pushing a marshmallow deeper into the fire. "i dare you to go dunk in the ocean." a grin erupted on steven's face, and in the glow of the fire, he looked like the cheshire cat. 

"no way, man. it's freezing."

you knew the real reason conrad didn't want to go into the ocean. one night the week before, when the parents were out to dinner and the other kids were asleep, you and conrad had stayed up to watch jaws together, having rented it secretly from the local video store. ever since, conrad had been coming up with excuses to not go swimming at the beach. 

"what's the matter, con? you scared?" jeremiah taunted, wearing a similar cheshire grin to steven’s.

"what?" the marshmallow conrad was trying to roast fell into the fire. he huffed, and belly handed him another one. "i'm not scared. it's just freezing."

"come on, man. you’ve gotta do it. besides, there's a fire and hot cocoa here for you when you get back," jeremiah reasoned. ten-year-old jeremiah was never very concerned about following the rules, except when it came to truth or dare. 

"i'm good," conrad snapped.

"aw, i think he's scared," steven laughed.

"i'm not scared —"

"what if i went with you?" you interrupted him. 

"but it's not your dare," belly pointed out as she continued carefully assembling a s'more. nine-year-old belly was competitive, so it was very important to her that the rules of any game were followed. 

"yeah, but if connie —"

"is scared," jeremiah coughed under his breath.

"wants company," you continued, ignoring jeremiah. "then, it'll be more fun, right?" you were a mix between jere and belly: you were competitive, but you didn’t particularly care about following the rules. especially when it came to your friends, even more when it came to conrad.

conrad smiled at you softly. "right." 

reluctantly, jeremiah, belly and steven agreed to the terms of the dare. you removed your beach cover up, and conrad his shirt, leaving you both in your swimsuits, dry even with swimming in the pool a few hours before. you ran to the water, pulling conrad with you. you stopped at the edge of the sand, waves tickling your feet and the light, and warmth, of the bonfire a recent memory. it was much cooler here, closer to the water.

"ready?"

conrad nodded once. "ready." 

hands still clasped together, you jumped into the ocean, leaving the comfort of the shore behind. 

now 

jeremiah finds stale marshmallows in the kitchen and steven makes a bonfire on the stretch of beach between your two houses. you head home to change out of your silk mini skirt and back into denim cutoffs. you switch your cream blouse for a short-sleeved button down, left open over your favourite bralette. when you get back to the beach, the boys have invited some people over, most of whom you don't recognize. 

"here," jeremiah hands you a lukewarm beer, which you accept gratefully. then, he throws an arm around your shoulder. "come on, there's some people i want you to meet." 

jeremiah introduces you to a few guys he works with at the club, and some girls who are doing the deb thing with belly. 

"jeremiah mentioned you’re a swimmer." gigi, one of the debs, smiles, eyeing the way jeremiah leans against you. "what's that like?"

the girls all wait expectantly for you to answer. 

"intense," you decide. you leave it at that. the fire flickers a few feet away, vibrant and alive. 

you want nothing more than to go back to those summer nights when you were kids. you want belly to be looking at the stars for elaborate constellations while jeremiah burns marshmallows to a crisp. you want steven to be laughing and making outrageous, impossible dares. you want the five of you together, huddled around a small fire that conrad had carefully crafted. you want conrad to be okay. 

"i hear that competitive sports can like, really fuck with a girl's self-esteem and body image," gigi continues. you don't necessarily think she means it as an insult, and it's certainly not anything you haven't heard (or felt) before, but you still bristle.

"like i said: intense," you answer cooly. 

"hey, man, when are we gonna get the marshmallows going?" steven suddenly appears, his face slightly flushed. he holds hands with shayla, who, as jeremiah pointed out earlier, steven is dating. 

"in a bit. i asked con to pick up chocolate and graham crackers for s'mores." jeremiah looks around before saying: "speaking of: look who's here!"

jeremiah runs off to meet his brother, while you stay back and take a sip of your beer. 

"looks like he brought nicole, too," steven observes.

who the fuck is nicole? 

nicole, you learn as the group sits around the bonfire and roasts marshmallows, is the girl conrad is either dating or hooking up with. jeremiah isn't quite sure.

the night grows darker. the air is warm with smoke from marshmallows roasting, the smell of burnt sugar dancing around. people start to leave to go to other parties, and soon enough it's only steven, shayla, nicole, conrad, jeremiah, and you. having less people around made it harder for you to ignore conrad. nicole is nice and pleasant to talk to, but you can't help but feel something churn in your stomach when you see how close nicole and conrad are to each other. plus, she's wearing a red sox cap, and you know for a fact that conrad hates the red sox, unless that obviously fundamental part of his personality changed too. 

jeremiah must have noticed, because he suggests a drinking game for the group to ease the tension. 

"never have i ever gotten a tattoo." 

you’re the only one to take a sip of your drink. 

"i meant a real one," steven rolls his eyes. 

"i do have a real tattoo." you remove the button down and point to the left side of your rib cage. 

the others take a closer look, except conrad, of course. he was always an expert at pretending not to care, but so were you. tonight is a prime example: since the bonfire, you hadn't said a word to each other. 

"why a starfish?" nicole asks. she leans further into conrad’s arms.

you look at conrad, briefly, then shrug. "i like the beach." 

the game continues until the fire dies down, and you’re left with a burning sensation from conrad glancing in your direction, at the starfish etched on your skin.

then — summer, age 13

"that's disgusting," steven said, scrunching his nose. 

"no, steven, that's friendship," you replied, just as jeremiah leaned over to take more from your cup, and vice versa.

"right, friendship." belly raised her eyebrow at you, and you rolled your eyes in response. you then decided to take an interest in your formerly white sneakers (after so many summers, they were now decorated with sand and sea water and permanent marker doodles. your mother hated them.)

that summer, belly became convinced that jeremiah had a crush on you. she said that he was absolutely lovestruck and that you were too blinded by years of being best friends with him to notice. jeremiah had made you promise not to tell belly the hilarious irony of the situation — that it was belly he so clearly loved.

"see, steven. friendship can be sweet!" jeremiah grinned, chewing the chunk of bubble gum he had fished from your cup. that was the type of cheesy thing only jeremiah could say and make others laugh unironically. 

years before, when you were just kids, you and jeremiah believed you had solved the most complicated problem in the world. you loved bubble gum ice cream, but hated the bubble gum chunks. jeremiah loved bubble gum chunks, and didn't care if the flavor clashed with his favorite rainbow sherbert because he loved you even more (platonically, of course). 

during the whole interaction, conrad was silent, looking out towards the beach. 

the five of you had walked to the nearest ice cream shop (there was no baskin robbins in cousins, but some nautical themed place with 50 flavors and unlimited toppings). you decided to come back and sit on the porch of the fisher house (where there was a decent amount of shade) rather than on the beach. it was one of the hottest afternoons of the summer, late july, when the sun was at its peak. those who'd been coming to cousins their whole lives knew that being at the beach in such weather was only good for swimming. 

you glanced at conrad, who took another bite (an actual bite) of his chocolate ice cream. he was sitting on the railing instead of the stairs like the rest of you, so you had to crane your neck slightly. you tapped his ankle, which was decorated with a temporary tattoo. the night before, the two of you had found a few left over from when you were kids and, having a sugar rush from too much cream soda and root beer (and maybe stolen sips of sangria when the adults weren't looking), decided it would be hilarious to see if the tattoos still worked. so, conrad had a cartoonish-looking shark on his ankle, and you had a similarly cartoonish-looking starfish on your arm. 

"you okay, connie?" you asked. you only got a nod and a small smile in response. more and more, as summer crept on, conrad would be laughing, loud and lively, one second (exhibit A: using those temporary tattoos the night before was his idea -- we don't want them to go to waste, y/n, he grinned mischievously) and the next he'd be silent, closed off (exhibit B: since you came back from your ice cream excursion, he'd barely said a word). 

even though you couldn't really read minds, you had an aching feeling that you knew what conrad was thinking in that moment, because you’d been thinking it, too: time was passing too quickly. in a few days, it would already be august, and september was just around the corner. the summer - your childhood - was as temporary as yours and conrad’s tattoos: vibrant and saturated, slightly faded, then gone. 

"i wanna go swimming. anyone wanna join me at the beach?" jeremiah suddenly asked. 

"i've gotta pick up the twins from day camp, but i'll try to meet you guys later." you knew that wasn't true though — things were getting more and more tense between your parents, your father storming out angrily after useless arguments and your mother passing out on the couch after one too many glasses of wine. someone needed to watch your siblings, and neither of your parents seemed pressed to find an actual babysitter.

"i'll stay with you," conrad said.

belly and steven took jeremiah up on his offer. once the other three were gone, you stood up. "scooch over." conrad shifted slightly and you went to join him on the railing, your knees practically knocking together. 

"so. did the tattoo help you get over your fear of sharks?" 

conrad took another bite of his ice cream, this time with a giant chunk of chocolate. "i don't fear sharks," he replied. then, he turned to you and shrugged. "i just respect them, you know?"

you bumped your shoulder against conrad's. "right. you respect them so much that you avoid the ocean at all costs." 

conrad smirked. "says the girl who avoids eating on the beach because she's scared of seagulls!" 

you were laughing, teasing each other, not caring that your ice cream was melting, when mr. fisher opened the front door, car keys in hand.

"oh, hey kids. we were wondering where you were."

"we went to scoops ahoy," you explained. you took a bite of your ice cream and resisted the urge to spit it out once you realized that it had a chunk of bubble gum in it. 

"better watch the ice cream, huh, y/n?" mr. fisher said, smiling like he said the funniest thing in the world. he patted his stomach to further his point. "if you want to keep up at those swim meets."

you suddenly froze, mid bite. you cleared your throat and dropped the spoon back in your half-empty cup, suddenly queasy.

"dad," conrad said, not raising his voice, but definitely irritated. "what the actual fuck."

"language, conrad," mr. fisher scolded. without another word, he got in his car and drove away.

"he shouldn't have said that," conrad said instantly.

"it's fine," you replied, too quickly to be true. you set down your ice cream between you and conrad. "it's nothing my own father hasn't said to me."

being a teenage girl was brutal, and competitive swimming amplified that, especially the older you got. there was always someone faster, someone more skilled, someone better. ice cream churned in your stomach at the thought. was your father right: had you wasted your summer, not practicing your technique and stuffing your face with sugary treats? 

conrad picked up your ice cream and handed it to you. he then took the spoon from his own cup, and stated: "fuck dads who are jerks." 

you couldn't help but smile. somehow, he always knew what to say to make you believe that you weren't alone, that things would be okay no matter how fucked up the world was. 

"fuck dads who are jerks," you echoed, raising your spoon.

"and,” conrad paused. he looked at you with gentle eyes. “to always being there for each other."

you smiled at him, heart soaring. "to always being there for each other." 

you clinked your spoons together, and ate your ice cream, and shifted closer so your legs pressed together — and it didn't feel like a temporary promise.

now

you always loved mornings in cousins. the beach was particularly beautiful at sunrise, the water at its most peaceful.

the morning after the bonfire, you need that peacefulness to wash over you. as quietly as you can to avoid waking up the rest of your family, you make a fresh pot of coffee and pour some into your favourite mug. it’s from the rainforest cafe: bright green with a cartoon frog on it. you brought it back from a swim meet in niagara falls when you were 10, and got one for the fishers as well. theirs was orange with a cartoon iguana. conrad would use it all the time; you imagine it collecting dust in the kitchen cupboard now.

you make your way down to the beach, and notice someone already sitting at your usual spot by the water.

conrad doesn’t say anything when you sit next to him. he’s wearing a red hoodie over his clothes from last night, a cigarette tucked behind his ear. he glances at you as you sip your drink. 

“morning,” he whispers.

you shiver, and not just from the cool morning air. you’re reminded of the last time conrad spoke to you so softly, the last time you’d caught an early morning sunrise together. such a contrast to where you are now.

“morning,” you finally reply. 

as the sound of waves fills the silence between you, conrad lights his cigarette and takes a puff. then, he hands it to you. in turn, you offer him your mug. a peace offering — you both accept. the space between you becomes open, comfortable.

“since when do you smoke?” you exhale, letting the smoke warm your lungs. 

conrad takes a long sip of coffee, looking out towards the ocean. “since i quit football.”

“i thought you loved football.”

“i loved it,” conrad answers. he takes another sip, then gives the mug back to you. “i don’t love it anymore.”

you take another drag of the cigarette. your fingers brush against his when you return it to him.

“once you love something, you never really unlove it,” you muse, even though you know exactly what he means — when it comes to sports. 

“don’t misquote spirited away at me,” he laughs, and you can’t help but smile. the first time you'd watch that movie was when you were 8. all the kids crowded into the den of the fisher house on a rainy day. susannah prepared an impressive spread of candy, popcorn, and soda for you all. you drank dr. pepper from a twizzler straw and cried when chihiro reunited with haku.

conrad glances at you and the sunshine highlights his smile, his brown hair, the hazel of his eyes. golden, radiant. 

you shiver again, looking away. before you know it, you feel something draped across your shoulders.

“i’m not sure nicole would like it if i was wearing your hoodie.” you joke, but your words are laced with a bitterness you hope conrad doesn’t catch. unlucky for you, conrad knew you too well. 

“you don’t get to do that,” he snaps.

“do what?”

conrad scoffs. “be jealous.” 

“well, you don’t get to tell me how to feel.”

“so, you are jealous?”

you exhale sharply; you can practically feel the wall between you two reappear.

“it’s too early, con. and i’m too hungover to deal with this.”

there’s nothing more left to say. you get up, throw his hoodie on the sand, and walk back towards your house, the beach and conrad further away with every step you take.

it makes sense that way: you were always the one to leave first.

[rorynxoxo]

Izuku x Reader

Hurt/comfort

WC: 900

Desc: Izuku's been busy lately, and at some point, it becomes too much.

Izuku and Y/N have been supportive of each other’s work since they started dating at UA, especially now that you’ve moved in together and are both pursuing your own demanding careers. You admire and respect Izuku for his dedication to his hero work, even more-so now that he’s the #1 Hero. You love him, and he loves you. Paparazzi goes insane whenever you’re seen in public together and social media admires your relationship and everyone in Japan wishes they had what you two had.

Even so, you can’t help but feel an invisible wall has been built between you two. 

When Izuku comes home after night patrol and passes out, you leave for work. 

When you wake up, Izuku’s leaving for an interview.

Another interview, 

And another, and another, until you’re finally sitting down and eating breakfast together.

Izuku sets down your plate and sits across from you at the table.

You began speaking, 

“Your mom called the other day, she was wondering if we wanted to–” Izuku cut you off, 

“I don’t think I’ll have time, sorry.” He responded without letting you finish your sentence

You paused, taken aback by his audacity, “I didn’t even finish my–” Izuku ignored your inquiry and stood up from the table,

“I’m gonna go train with Todoroki, I’ll be back in awhile.” He put his dish in the sink before he walked past you. “Cya’ later”

“Uhm, bye- I guess” You mumbled.

You couldn’t help but notice he didn't properly say goodbye, nor kiss the back of your head as he used to when he left. You start to realize this has became a pattern. You put your dishes away and sit on the couch, just staring. You understand he was busy and prioritizes being a hero – but over having conversations with his girlfriend? – maybe you really were just being clingy, because the Izuku you know wouldn’t ever do that. 

As you were enveloped in your thoughts, your phone rang; it was Mina. 

“Hey girllll!” Mina sang through the phone

“Hey” You responded. Mina paused before replying,

“You okay?” 

“Yeah, it’s stupid. I think I’m crazy.” You responded “Crazy? Why?” She asked

“I think Izuku’s been ignoring me. I get that he’s busy and everything, but he’s off today and wouldn’t even let me get a sentence out before leaving. I just- I don’t know if I’m being some annoying, clingy, girlfriend or if he’s really sick of me.” You mumbled.

“Are you serious? Midoryia’s being like that?” She scoffed, “The guy might be busy, but Jesus, he could at least talk to you.”

“I guess.” You murmured. 

“Y/N, I love you, but you need to start standing up for yourself. Don’t let yourself be treated like an afterthought.” Mina sighed, “I gotta go, we’ll hang out this weekend, okay? Talk to you later!”

She hung up the phone and you laid down on the couch.

Mina was right. You weren’t always one for standing up for yourself, it was why you loved Izuku so much. Even since middle school you admired how he never let bullying override his determination for being a hero. You wished you were like him in that regard. As you reminisced everything you hated about yourself, you felt tears trailing down your cheeks. If Izuku did want to break up, what would you do? You were confused and hurt, and couldn’t tell if you were being dramatic or not. Maybe what Izuku needed was someone who didn’t need so much attention. You couldn’t stand yourself. You closed your eyes, cried, and eventually fell asleep. 

The next thing you knew, the door was opening. You didn’t get up.

“Y/N?” Izuku called out.

You sighed, “Yeah?” Izuku walked into the living room, and once he saw you laying down on the couch, he knelt down in front of you with a look of guilt. “I’m so sorry, baby” He said gently as he wiped your dried tears. You sat up after he sat next to you.

“I didn’t realize how preoccupied I’ve been, I never meant to hurt you. I feel awful.” He frowned, “I could never get sick of you – you’re the furthest thing from an annoying girlfriend.” He hugged you, and you hugged him back. You missed this. “It doesn’t feel like it when you ignore me.” You mumbled into his shoulder. You could smell his cologne, and apart from the fact he was sweaty from training, it felt like home. 

“You’re completely right.” He admitted “You don’t ever deserve being ignored. I hate that I get distracted. I love you, and no matter what I do otherwise, that’ll never change.” He parted from the hug and kissed you, It felt like it’s been a long time.

“It’s okay, I forgive you” You rested on his shoulder

“Next weekend I’m off,” He smiled, “Can I take you out to dinner?”

You smirked back at him, “It’s the least you could do.” You joked. 

“Oh, of course” He chuckled.

Later, as you two were intertwined with each other in bed, you asked him,

“How did you know I was upset?” A good question.

“...Mina chewed my ear off.” He averted his eyes and shuddered at the memory. 

.

.

.

“YOU IDIOT, ARE YOU SERIOUSLY THAT OBLIVIOUS!?!? I FEEL LIKE IT’S KIND OF OBVIOUS NOT TO IGNORE YOUR GIRLFRIEND, RIGHT LOVER BOY? HOW ABOUT INSTEAD OF YOU MAKING HER FEEL LIKE SHIT, I SHOVE MY—”

A/N: eek my first fan fic!!!!! hope u liked it, i didn't edit it at all lol - rory

[nataliesscatorccio]

Dead cabin guy and his technicolor dreamcoat have haunted me since the wardrobe reveal in season two, and today im going to make it everyone's problem.

Travis wears the coat first. He and Natalie take the blessing and go out to look for Javi. Travis hallucinates (prophesies?) that Javi is dead and buried beneath the snow, but Natalie shows him it's only a fox. Travis finds the strange, mossy tree stump. The next day Travis has strong feelings about which direction is best to search for Javi in, and we don't see more of him until Nat reveals the bloody pants. Not that weird, all things considered. New season, new wardrobe additions. Hiking on a caloric deficit with PTSD, you'll probably hallucinate. Pretty standard stuff.

Then Nat wears the coat. She takes it to lay Jackie's bones to rest at the crash site, and while she wears it she sees (hallucinates? prophesies? I'm not sure!) the white moose that they'll later lose to the lake (ergo the hunt, ergo Javi dies for real but more on that later).

We get to Old Wounds, the hunting competition, and Lottie wears the coat now. You see where I'm going with this but just to be thorough: she enters the realm of death dreams, talks with Laura Lee, almost freezes to death.

Episode five. Melissa wears the coat. Maybe that's not important! Maybe it's just to show that they all share the wardrobe, and that the side characters are as equally All In This Together as the main characters are. Or it could mean something that a peripheral character, wearing important wardrobe, framed in antlers (not unlike Travis in 2.01), has the line "maybe he did die, and that's his ghost." It's a little suspicious, and at this point starts to feel like a pattern.

Who wears it next, who wore it best!? That's right baby, it's Paul! For his dreamworld drifter, hallucination hunk Coach Ben Scott. Nicholas Urfe himself. Ben spends almost all of his time in a dream, until *drumroll please* Paul, very pointedly, takes the coat and walks out the door. "Where do you think you are, Ben?" he puts the coat on. "You had to have known you couldn't stay here forever. [...] What matters now is that you aren't welcome here anymore." Following Paul means committing to death (to dream), and until interruption that's the choice Ben makes. Because letting Paul (and the coat) go would mean committing entirely to reality.

Of course, the pièce de résistance is something I didn't even notice until I went looking for it. The first dozen times I watched, I thought that after Lottie's beating Shauna brought her a blanket. "Lottie's cold." But she doesn't. She brings her the coat. Lottie is laying with it when, in a fever dream, she witnesses/hallucinates/prophesies parts of the hunt.

It's there again (on the back of the chair) when she sits by the fire and speaks for the wilderness, appointing Nat their queen. Ben watches, having woken from the dream himself, as they all bow to Natalie and leave reality behind for good.

Of course, there are a lot of times when characters hallucinate strange things in the cabin while not wearing the coat, because they're all starving to death and traumatized. Mari. Shauna. Akilah. But in addition to that, it seems like a pattern worth noting that in each instance where a character wears the technicolor coat, the line between the real and the imagined seems to blur with more ease. Does dead cabin guy's technicolor dreamcoat help the Yellowjackets connect to the dream realm?

I'll be brief here with the biblical parallel: blah blah Joseph is the favorite son (you were always its favorite), his father gives him a technicolor coat (they're nothing special, they don't change color in the cold or anything). blah blah Joseph starts having prophetic dreams etc etc his jealous brothers throw Joseph down a pit (the wilderness chose) and bring his bloodstained coat back as false proof of his death (hanging on a branch. a couple miles back). You get my drift.

Does it mean anything? Who knows. But in a series where wardrobe is such an integral part of the storytelling, it felt worth paying attention to.

[lustspren]

STARBOY EP 3. Earned It ft Kazuha.

length: 13.3k words.✦

Nakamura Kazuha & Male Reader. 

genres: slutty brat¡ kazuha, bdsm, daddy kink, angry sex, public sex, dirty talk, hard sex, face fuck, creampie, blowjob, oral ✧ 

✦✧✦✧✦✧

It was a pretty typical stereotype that men hate going shopping with a woman, and you certainly couldn't deny it, most of your friends in the past hated it, but for some reason you enjoyed it. And of course you more than anyone knew the reason.

Having Heejin as a shopping partner was undoubtedly an experience that was anything but boring, wherever you followed her she would attract you with a bright and fun aura that you couldn't even get tired of, no matter what she did. You didn't want to jump to conclusions too quickly, but maybe you were somewhat, just a little, in love with her. Of course this wasn't even a hidden feeling in you, the connection you had with that girl was more than special, she was like your other half, and your safe place, not to mention that without her you were literally living on the street right now. You owed a lot to her, and this was the least you could do to repay her for everything she has done for you.

That day you had gone out exclusively to buy clothes to remodel almost your entire closet. You needed it more than she did, but still most of the stops you were having were because of her. Right now you were at a Fendi store, which was in the mall a few blocks from your building. Your job was simple, you had to answer yes or no every time she came out of the fitting room with a new item of clothing to find out if she bought it or not. You were already full of bags, in which you could be easily buried, but even so, it didn't seem enough to her. At least it was a nice enough place to wait, otherwise you would have been overwhelmed with so many things to keep an eye on. 

Miss Lee had been giving you fashion advice for a few days, in your last session she forced you to try on multiple different outfits, each one with clothes from brands that until weeks ago you could only see on instagram or pinterest. She let you keep all the clothes that you liked, but still she ordered you to update your closet as fast as you could, and so you did. This day you were wearing a blue Ralph Lauren sweater tucked into champagne Zara pants, vanilla Balenciaga Triple S shoes and a blue Patek watch, you were completely unaware of the exact model, surely Sunmi would know, but you were new to all of that.  Most importantly, you'd killed two birds with one stone, you pleased your boss, and finally shaken off the judgmental stares of everyone around you while still feeling comfortable with yourself.

While you were sitting on a sofa looking at twitter on your phone Heejin came out of the changing room and looked your way, she was wearing a whole complete outfit: a strappy champagne corset, brown wide leg pants with pink striped plaid pattern, and white pointed heels, all complemented by rectangular sunglasses and a brown velvet handbag with the Fendi buckle in the middle. 

The first thing you thought was that she looked incredibly hot with that corset that highlighted her breasts and prominent shoulders, but when you thought a little more you couldn't help noticing something very important.

"Wait wait wait wait, you know how much is that handbag, right?" you said, pointing at it with your finger still glued to the phone.

"Uhm… how much?" she asked innocently.

"1.400 bucks. I saw it just now."

"Oh..." she looked at the bag for a few seconds, in all directions, and then saw it hanging on her arm, "but can we take it or not?" she said finally, with a smirk and a tilt of her head.

You brought your fingers to your septum and closed your eyes to let out a long breath, knowing you had no choice.

"Sure, take it," you finally said, looking up at her again.

"Yaaay!" she clapped excitedly for a moment, "and how about the outfit? Yes or no?"

"It's definitely a yes," you held up your thumb.

"I knew it!" she jumped towards you and cupped your face to steal a kiss from you. She then turned back to the dressing room, leaving you alone again.

As soon as Heejin entered the dressing room, your phone's screen turned on showing the message that just arrived. You unlocked your phone, and sighed as you read the entire message.

Japan Justice Minister, you went over it several times in your head. You didn't know why, but you had the feeling that everything was escalating way too fast, you went from fucking a CEO, then a shareholder, and now the daughter of a Japanese politician. And you, well, you were just a lucky guy. As usual, the intrusive thoughts and your anxiety took over again for a few minutes. This time the pressure was twice as strong as when Sunmi or Tiffany, on top of that, you were going to face a girl who was going to potentially drive you out of your mind in a bad way, and your tolerance was something, you would say quite limited. You didn't know how spoiled she was, but your protocol (which you just made up just now) for girls like that was very simple: don't give them what they want.

You waited a few minutes for Heejin, and when she came out, she was dressed in the same clothes she had worn to come to the mall in the first place.

"That's it! Let's pay," Heejin said, checking that she had all the clothes she had tried on, "Uhm, is something wrong?" she asked, noticing that you were chewing on your thumbnail with a blank stare.

"I have to go, Miss Lee wants to see me so I can meet my next client," you said, still staring at nothing.

"And what is the problem?" she stood in front of you.

"The girl in question is the daughter of a minister of justice," when you said it you couldn't help but let out a small incredulous laugh.

"Oof. Big fish..."

"Aha, it still seems fucking surreal to me, to be honest, but I guess that's the way it is now," you sighed, then looked at her, "I'll have to get used to it. Let's go," you nodded to the cashier and you got up.

When you paid for the clothes, the first thing you did was count everything you were carrying, to make sure nothing was missing, and it wasn't until then that you realized that you were carrying a somewhat exaggerated number of bags, so exaggerated that you even doubted that they were even going to fit in the elevator with you. You put your mind to plot for a moment to try to calculate how much you had spent on all that, but if you started counting everything you were probably going to arrive late for your meeting with Sunmi, and that wasn’t an option, so you just took out your phone to call the taxi and then take as many bags as you could in your two hands, just like Heejin.

"What could be the daughter of a Japanese politician here in Korea?" Heejin asked as you walked towards the exit.

"I don't know," you shrugged, "but Miss Lee told me they were in a photo shoot, maybe it has something to do."

"Maybe she is a photographer?"

"Nah," you shake your head denying, "based on how little I know about her, I don't think photography is her thing."

"Hmm…" she thought about it for a few seconds, "Model, then, I can't think of anything else."

"Probably, we'll see."

When you arrived at the exit and left the mall, you stayed waiting for the taxi for just under 5 minutes until it finally arrived. You barely put all the bags in the trunk of the car, forced to stack them on top of each other and crush them so that they could fit all there.

"We need a car, fuck," Heejin sighed, "a SUV, if possible."

"Maybe if we stopped buying 1.400 dollars handbags we could save and buy one," you looked at her without even blinking.

"Oh come on! It was Fendi!" she excused herself, before you ignored her and sat at the backseat, "you bought an almost 1.000 clock and I'm not upset about it. In fact, you're wearing it!"

"It's different," you said, watching out the window as she sat next to you and closed the car door.

"In what?" she crossed her arms as she saw you.

"It cost almost 500 bucks less," you chuckled, waiting for the blow to your arm.

"Ah fuck you!" she complained, hitting you on your arm, in the same exact area where she always did. You didn't even immute you, you had developed a kind of mental immunity to the pain of her punches.

Being your building so few blocks away the trip was just under 3 minutes, in fact, you could easily have walked there, but the amount of laziness that gave you loading with all the bags beat you. When you arrived you paid the driver and got off the car, to download all the bags and enter the building. Entering the elevator with all the bags was less difficult than you expected, in fact, you didn’t even have to make two trips up and down as you imagined from the beginning, however, if someone else wanted to enter the elevator at that time, it was going to be necessary to wait.

When you got to your floor you were the first to go ahead since you had the keys, you opened the door, and went straight to the living room to put all the bags on the sofa, while Heejin left them on the floor between the coffee table and the sofa. .

"You know, I think we should adopt a cat," she said out of nowhere.

"What? Why?" you frowned in confusion as you walked towards the door again.

"I don't know, I feel a little lonely every time you leave..." Heejin bited on her bottom lip, arms folded and looking sad, "this whole place is so big, and well… you know ."

"Oh Hekkie..." you breathed out, to walk towards her and hold her by the waist, "I'm so sorry, okay?"

"No, not at all, it's not your fault, silly," she laughed a little discouraged, "it's your job now, do your best for me," she gave you a little pat on the chest, and then she gave you a little kiss on the lips, "I just need some company while you're gone, that's all."

"We're going to an adoption center tomorrow, okay?" you cupped her face with your hands, "take care of finding out places."

"Okay," she nodded, like the spoiled child she sometimes was, "be careful, okay?"

"Always," you gave her a kiss on the forehead, and then another on her lips, before turning around and walking out of the apartment.

You didn't know how late you were going to arrive at the place Sunmi had ordered you to go to, which worried you. You ordered the taxi as fast as you could while you walked to the elevator, and you checked that you had everything you needed on you. When you got to the street you couldn't help but think that Heejin was right, you needed a car urgently.

Luckily for you the taxis in that place were anything but late, they arrived much faster than the average taxi did, but you came to the conclusion that it must simply be the same old problem, classism in its purest form.

-----------------------------

The taxi dropped you right in front of the executive building to which they had sent you, just as you imagined it was a production company and a photo studio, from the outside you couldn't see much of it, but when you entered you were amazed at the tremendous relevance of the place. The lobby was littered with photos, all of them with captions indicating the brand that had done their shoots right there; Adidas, Under Armour, Puma, Calvin Klein...

"Good afternoon, miss," you approached the receptionist, a pretty girl under 25 years  by your reckoning. << Seo Soojin >>, said the little card attached to her shirt. She wore glasses, her hair tied up in a bun, and a rather intense crimson lipstick that highlighted her thick lips. The moles she had under her eye and next to her nose also caught your attention.

"Good afternoon sir, how can I help you?" she said, looking at you over the top of her glasses.

"I'm headed to the studio, huh…" you checked your phone again, "6."

"Are you a model? Staff member? Photographer?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Oh no, nothing like that," you denied, "I'm close friends with Miss Lee and Miss Nakamura."

"I see," she nodded and looked down at her landline, "one minute please," she said as she took the phone, you kept quiet as you looked at her, assuming she was calling someone, "Hello? Yes, excuse me, there's a guy at the reception who claims to be close friends with Miss Lee and Miss Nakamura... Ok... Ok got it, you're welcome."

"Well?"

"Here," she opened a drawer in her desk and pulled out a necklace with a laminated card that read <<guest>>, "fourth floor to the right, easy enough to find," she said, handing you the card.

"Thanks, Soojin," you nodded your head in appreciation and took the card to go straight to the elevator.

You followed the receptionist's instructions until you arrived at the aforementioned studio 6, the door was made of opaque glass that allowed you to see almost nothing other than the flash of the cameras going off and the light from the spotlights. The door wasn't locked, so you just walked in freely. The studio was quite spacious and cozy, with black curtains that completely covered all the windows and air conditioning at the perfect temperature. There were fewer people than you thought there would be, only 5 staff members and a sturdy man in a suit sitting on a sofa at the back of the room, they all stared at you when you closed the door behind you, but seeing the card hanging from your neck they continued with their thing.

"Hi… hi… hi," you said aloud, bowing to each person as you walked to where the flashes were coming from.

As you crossed the division between the two studio areas, you found yourself blinded for a moment by the light from one of the spotlights, so much so that at first glance you couldn't notice everything; when your eyes cleared up you were finally able to take a look at the minimalist set they had assembled. There was a large furry sofa placed right in the middle of the white screen that covered both the wall and the floor for a few feet, with a couple of cushions in the middle and a jean jacket that belonged to the incredibly hot and stunning woman who was sitting and posing on the sofa. In black Calvin Klein underwear and white socks.

"Oh, you're finally here," Lee Sunmi said, noticing your presence and motioning for the photographer to stop for a moment.

"Yes, sorry if I'm late, Miss Lee," you bowed to her, after nearly choking on how she'd seen you and how she was (or was not) dressed.

"Not at all, you're actually just on time," she stood up and slowly walked over to stand in front of you, one of her hands resting on your chest and the other on your left arm, moving both from up and down while analyzing your outfit, "now you dress appropriately, nice outfit, boy."

"I'm glad you like it," you giggled nervously at how close she was, maybe you weren't quite used to how imposing she was yet, "nice underwear, by the way, you look amazing."

"Thanks, but you don't have to pretend you weren't looking at my tits while I was walking towards you," you didn't answer, you didn't even realize you had until she told you, "anyway, there's someone you have to meet, remember?" she asked tilting her head to the other side of the room, "Hey, Zuha! Our partner is here."

From behind one of the spotlights a girl just inches taller than Sunmi came out, much more covered than you expected; she was wearing a slightly short jean skirt, a white crop top shirt with the Calvin Klein logo, and black sneakers and white socks with the same logo. You couldn't help but fix your attention on the girl’s unreally gorgeous face and on how perfect her dark shiny hair looked, after that you did focus on the slender figure she had, giving special attention to her incredibly hot abs that managed to hypnotize you in the moment.

"Damn, you really are as handsome as she told me," was the first thing Kazuha said as she stood next to Sunmi and looked you up and down, "Nakamura Kazuha," she held out her hand for you to shake, "And you're... Starboy, huh?"

"My pleasure, yes," you said, shaking her hand and meeting her eyes with a small smile.

"I can call you whatever I want, right?" her look denoted her intentions from the first instance, and you were sure that yours did too.

"I think that depends," you noticed in Kazuha a certain different energy from Sunmi and Tiffany's, a more playful, fun and spicy one, so you decided to take certain liberties, "what do you want to call me, baby?"

Kazuha raised both eyebrows for a second and smiled while biting her lower lip. Something about that she had liked, and you suspected that it was that you called her baby.

"Miss Lee?" Kazuha said without looking at her.

"Yeah?" Sunmi replied.

"I wanna taste him, here and now," that took you by surprise, so you looked at Sunmi somewhat stunned.

"Kazuha, you know that we are in a photo studio, right? There are people here. You’re not even gonna talk with him?" Sunmi asked.

"I don't care! I want to suck his cock before I take him with me all night, we will have a lot of time to talk" she stepped back and cupped both hands to either side of her mouth, "Everyone get out of here right now! We need a moment alone and no one is allowed to enter until I say so!" Kazuha said very loudly, for everyone inside the room to hear.

As soon as Kazuha gave the order, you could see how everyone quickly left the room, including the man you saw sitting a moment ago, who looked at you for a second before leaving. You didn't know what the hell was going on, your mind couldn't assimilate the fact that until less than five minutes ago you had just had your first contact with her and she already wanted to give you head, but maybe you should have expected it.

"God, this girl," Sunmi murmured as she sighed, and then she went to sit cross-legged on the sofa.

"You don't mind, do you?" Kazuha grabbed the collar of your sweater with one finger and moved a dangerous distance to your face, "It'll just be a little… quality test."

"Nah, just choke on that cock if you want," you replied, looking at her lips and then her eyes.

"Yes..." she paused to get a little closer, until almost touching her lips with yours, "Daddy," listening that she called you that way, from so close, and with her deep voice woven in a low sensual murmur, made all your senses activate at the same time and make you completely crazy. There was something in that girl that you couldn't identify, but you had the slight feeling that you were going to become addicted to her.

When Kazuha put her hand on your chest and went down to your pants she found that you already had a hard bulge on it, that among all the sexual tension of the situation you didn’t realize was there, you just had been paying attention to the girl’s cute playful eyes.

"Oh! You're hard already daddy," Kazuha teased you with a false surprise, "I bet you've been horny since you saw Miss Sunmi's tits."

Kazuha squeezed your cock slightly over your pants and began to remove her shirt and skirt, leaving herself in a set of underwear exactly like Sunmi's. Her body was almost as perfect as a Renaissance sculpture, and you took special time to admire her marked and delicious abs, her attractive shoulders and arms, and her long creamy legs.

You would have put your hands on her right then and there, if it weren't for her kneeling in front of you as soon as she knew you had already taken a look at her body in all its fullness. She looked into your eyes with a little mischievous smile, as she began to massage your cock over your pants again, while her other hand was attached to your right thigh.

"Tell me, Miss Lee, how do he like blowjobs?" asked Kazuha without seeing Sunmi, instead concentrating on unbuttoning your pants and lowering your zipper.

"Just suck his cock, brat, no matter how you do it," Sunmi said, without paying too much attention since she was looking at her nails, "he's already crazy about you, anyway he's going to like it."

"Ah yes?" Kazuha teased you, "is daddy so crazy about me that fast? I haven't even done anything..." the girl grabbed her fingers to the curbs of your pants and boxers and lowered them to your knees, thus releasing your hard cock that was now resting on her face, "Yet."  

Kazuha took your cock between her fingers and took a moment to analyze every inch of it, she planted a kiss, then two, and then began to plant her lips from your tip to your balls, being down there she stuck out her tongue and put it flat against your balls, to go slowly along your entire length back to your tip. She and you shared stares throughout that moment, even when your cock was locked by her mouth just a few inches after the tip.

You couldn't help but let out the faint sigh that came out of your mouth as Kazuha began to suck a few inches from you, her fingers were wrapped around the base of your cock, and her back was slightly arched so you could see her prominent, firm ass as she sucked more and more inches from your cock until she reached the middle.

"Mmm, Daddy's cock is very, very delicious," she said, licking her lips and masturbating you slowly, then dipping  your cock straight back into her wet warm mouth.

This time Kazuha's lips moved a few inches past the middle of your shaft, and with most of your cock now inside her mouth she began to give you a slow, wet, sensual blowjob. She wasn't looking you in the eye anymore, her head movements and body language made it obvious that she was enjoying sucking your cock almost as much as you did.

Her moans of pleasure soon appeared, making your cock vibrate every time she made a sound, you moaned a couple of times out loud, which made Kazuha see you once again in the eyes.

"You're supposed to be her daddy now, fool, act like one," you heard Sunmi speak to your left, you saw her out of the corner of her eye, remembering that she had been watching everything from the beginning.

It was easy for her to say, you had been a simple sub for several days, the word daddy had practically disappeared from your vocabulary at this point. You hadn't acted as the dominant one for a long time, but Kazuha was worth the effort.

"That's a good fucking girl," you gasped as she looked you in the eye, causing her to start pumping her head faster, "do you like daddy's cock, baby?"

"Yes daddy, your cock is so juicy..." she said, pulling you out of her mouth for a moment, "And big... and hard, and tasty."

After she adored your cock between wet kisses and licks, Kazuha put extra effort into her blowjob to make sure you enjoyed it, and not just that you enjoyed it, that it was the best blowjob you had ever been given in your life, which was difficult to achieve considering that her competition was Jeon Heejin herself, but what you did know was that if she kept going that way, moving her head that good and sucking almost all your cock between moans, you were going to cum faster than you wanted.

You were forced to close your eyes and drop your head back, which was also not very useful since Kazuha was no longer holding your cock with her fingers, she was now clinging to your hips, daring to take those last inches of your shaft and start hitting her own throat with each pump. The gag sounds of Kazuha's throat tempted you to open your eyes and watch the lewd scene in front of you, but you wanted to hold on more, just a little longer so you wouldn't look like a weak fool. Unfortunately for you, many times you couldn't take control of your brain, and you involuntarily opened your eyes, encountering the incredibly sexy image of Kazuha choking in your cock and making a mess of saliva on the ground, and that was the bane for you.

Without even telling her or anything you suddenly burst into Kazuha's mouth, she noticed it right away, and pushed her head even further toward the base of your cock, resting her nose on your pubis as you shot all your thick load into her throat. She held you there throughout your orgasm, swallowing as much as she could until she finally pulled you out of her mouth very slowly. When your cock was freed from her lips, she stared into your eyes with eyes full of sensuality and opened her mouth, to show you the thick pool of cum that rested on her tongue. You couldn't say anything because of how amazed you were, and she just closed her mouth, swallowed it, opened it again, and magically your cum was no longer there.

"And tell me daddy... I'm a good girl?" she said, as she wiped your cock with soft, delicate licks.

You were completely stunned and enraptured by such a sensual and charming aura, so much so that it took you a moment to find your words.

"Yes you are, baby, but you must keep showing it," you hesitated for a second, but ended up caressing her cheek with the back of your hand.

"Oh, you don't need to worry about it, daddy, I'll be a good girl all night... Maybe," she chuckled, kissing the tip of your cock and then standing up.

"Are you satisfied, little whore?" asked Sunmi, clearly wanting to get rid of her.

"Oh yes I am, Miss Lee, you have very good tastes," replied Kazuha as she picked up her clothes, you for your part just pulled up your boxer and pants, and stood there not quite knowing what to do after being drained so well.

"Of course I have good tastes, for some reason I am where I am," Sunmi stood up and walked to stand next to you, "you left the ground in a mess, how do you plan to explain it?"

"I don't know and it's not my problem, I want to leave with daddy right now," Kazuha said as she put on her shirt and skirt.

"Huh? Leave?!" Sunmi looked genuinely surprised, and perhaps somewhat annoyed, "God, you're lucky enough pictures of you have already been taken," she sighed, "just get out, and take good care of him."

"Perfect, thank you mommy!" said Kazuha with a radiant smile and a small ankle lift.

Sunmi didn't answer anything, in fact, you could notice that her face turned a little red because of how Kazuha had called her, apparently it wasn't something she was supposed to say in front of you.

"Get the fuck out of here," was all Miss Lee said, earning a laugh from Kazuha, who intertwined her arm with yours and carried you with her to the exit.

"What was that?" you asked, referring to what she had called Sunmi, as the two of you rounded a corner on the way to the elevator.

"Well, let's just say you're not the only one who has something like a... different relationship with Miss Lee," Kazuha held you by the arm tightly, as if she didn't want to let you go, and the happy smile on her face denoted a certain victorious feeling in her.

"You two have...?" you started, before entering the elevator and pressing the button on the ground floor.

"Yes, I've eaten her pussy on more than one occasion, why?" she replied matter-of-factly.

"Oh, sure," you nodded, "nothing, I was just curious about it."

When you arrived on the ground floor of the building you noticed, thanks to the glass doors, that the man in a suit from a few minutes ago was already waiting for you on the sidewalk in front of the entrance. 

You passed by the front of Seo Soojin's desk, with whom you stared at each other until you left the building.

"May I ask who he is?" you whispered in Kazuha's ear, seeing the man.

"Oh, Keitaro?" she said loudly, drawing the sturdy man's attention to the two of you, arousing your nerves, "He's my bodyguard, don't worry, his only job is to prevent something bad from happening to me, he's not going to interfere."

"Then he's not going to gouge out my eyes with his thumbs?"

"If my life is in danger because of you, it's the lightest thing he's going to do," she patted you on the chest and made you walk with her to the back doors of the car. A black chrome Toyota Highlander.

Keitaro opened the rear left door for you, and Kazuha let go of your arm to get one foot in the car and get inside, you followed her, and you settled aside while the bodyguard closed the door and then took his place in the driver's seat.

"Keitaro-san, take us to the hotel, alright? I need to get ready for tonight," Kazuha ordered the man, who only nodded before starting the car and setting off through the streets of Seoul.

"I don't know if it's rude to ask, but what are you doing here in Korea?" you asked, and then you took the slight audacity to put your hand on her thigh.

"I'm sick of my father," Kazuha's gaze was set on the shiny advertisements and modern buildings, illuminating her face, "he thinks he can control me like a doll with no mind of my own."

"Did you run away? Don't you think you're getting into big trouble?" she turned to see you.

"Probably, but I don't plan to go back there in a while," she shrugged indifferently.

"And you plan to stay in a hotel all the time?"

"I just arrived, it's temporary," she made a quick move, in which she climbed on your lap and adjusted her thighs to each side of you, "Miss Lee is already helping me get an apartment."

"We'll be closer than I thought, all the time, then," you put both hands on her waist, brushing her soft skin with your fingertips slowly, while Kazuha placed her hands on each side of your neck.

"I hope that's not a bad thing for you, daddy," she joked, a malicious smile slowly forming on her face.

"Not at all," you shook your head, "that will be interesting."

Kazuha did not respond again, instead, she closed the distance between the two of you and found your lips, initiating a slow and passionate kiss which extended all the way to the hotel. Once again you felt that it was different, you had a certain special chemistry with her that you never had with any of your other clients, you didn’t know exactly what it was, but what you could confirm is that with her you felt freer, and less pressured even considering who she was. Maybe it was her energy, or her vibes, or the way she treated you and saw you, Kazuha was different.

You arrived at the hotel faster than you thought, you didn’t know if it was because you had lost track of time inside the kiss or if the road had been short, but the truth was that Keitaro was already looking for a place to park near what seemed to be one of the few 5-star hotels you knew in Seoul:  The Shilla.

"My God, how much does a night there cost?" you asked, seeing the bright name of the hotel at the top of the building.

"Not as much as you think, it's cheaper than paying for a night with you, actually," she chuckled.

"Heck, that's how expensive I am?"

"Miss Lee says you're worth every penny, and I believe her," she replied, playing with the collar of your sweater.

"Look on the bright side, maybe after tonight I'll consider no longer charging you for my services," you tried to persuade her, seeking her gaze.

"Ah yes? Interesting..." she nodded slowly, to look into your eyes, "then I'll make sure I'm a good cum dump for daddy," she whispered over your lips.

The only thing you wanted at that precise moment was to take off her clothes and fuck her hard on the thin leather of the seats, but the car stopped.

"You're provoking me more than you should, and it's gonna be a long night for you, brat," you whispered back, before Keitaro turned off the engine and got out of the car.

"Mmm, maybe, but I honestly don't care," she gently bit your lip, and then got off your lap to open the door and get out of the car.

You followed her, and locked the car door for Keitaro to lock them with the key control. Kazuha re-intertwined her arm with yours, and you walked with her inside the building before the main one, which served as a lobby and private restaurant. You were especially struck by the traditional style of the infrastructure, both the style of the roof and the height reminded you of a temple, but with a modern touch thanks to the glass walls.

"Do you want to eat something, daddy? The food here is amazing," Kazuha said as you passed between the long tables, where there were some people having their dinner.

"No thanks, I'm not hungry yet," you replied, watching people eat all kinds of dishes that you sometimes saw only in magazines.

"Are you sure? It will be a long night, if you don’t eat now, I think you should order food while I get ready to leave," as you crossed the entire food area, you reached the portal leading to the main building.

"I almost forgot, where are we supposed to go?" Kazuha let go of your arm and approached the receptionist, you couldn't hear what she said to her, but within seconds she came back with you.

"Itaewon," she replied with a smile on her face as she held your hand and carried you inside the building, "I want to see if it's as wild as people say."

"Well, it certainly is," you nodded, entering the elevator with her, who pressed the button on the top floor, "Huh? Why are we going so high?"

"They must know who my father is, do you seriously think they would let me stay in a common room?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Are you telling me you have the fucking presidential suite of this hotel?" you asked out of naivety.

"Nah," she chuckled, "It was offered to me, but it was too much. I have the deluxe suite, or the Shilla Suite, as they call it."

"Ah... sure."

When you reached the top floor Kazuha took the lead to guide you through the corridors, and finally stopped in front of the suite door, opened it, and pulled you inside with her. 

As expected, the suite was anything but modest, on its own it could already be a rentable apartment, in fact. The furniture and walls made a perfect harmony of colors, white, champagne and dark brown, so automatically your eyes felt comfortable. Just entering was the living room, which consisted of two single sofas without armbands, a long white linen sofa, and two coffee tables in between. On the right was a large TV, and after the living room a bookshelf with yellow lights and glass display cases with all kinds of valuables.

"Pretty big for one person, don't you think?" you asked, slowly walking forward as you examined every corner of the place.

"Not really, I like to have enough space," she went ahead of you and passed the portal that divided the living room from the next area of the suite, which was nothing more than a small room prior to what you thought was the main bedroom. There was a marble table with a large sculpture of a turtle in the middle, and to the left a large window showing a beautiful view of Namsan Mountain.

"And don't you think you need some company?" you asked, running your fingers over the turtle's shell as you looked at the mountain.

"So fast you want to be with me all the time, daddy? Don't let it be noticed that I'm driving you crazy," she teased you with a mischievous chuck and a radiant smile on her face as she walked past you to open the bedroom door.

"This little b..." you murmured, and then you couldn't help but smile to yourself before you followed her inside.

The bedroom had nothing to envy to the living room as far as good design was concerned, it was just as impressive and big, and the bed looked like a place where you lay down to sleep 18 hours straight. 

When you walked in Kazuha was already undressing, and you knew perfectly well that she had taken off her skirt with her back to the door just because she knew you were going to pass by in a matter of seconds, and so it was, so you got a perfect view of her gorgeous firm ass.

"Hey, don't be a peeping daddy," she said, looking over her shoulder with her back still crouching, prompting you to keep seeing her ass for a few seconds before standing up again and getting into the bathroom.

At this point that girl was doing her best to get you out of your boxes, but for now your patience, and especially your willpower, were prevailing over your desire to rip off those stupid panties and fuck her prone bone against the mattress.

You had no choice but to sit on the edge of the bed, lean back to rest your hands on the mattress and let out a sigh, seriously thinking about what to do while Kazuha was in the bathroom, you heard the sound of the shower a few seconds later, so she was not going to come out for the next few minutes nearby. You slowly gave in to boredom, so you just lay on the soft mattress and pulled out your phone to scroll Instagram while waiting.

You didn't know exactly how much time had passed, but you spent a while watching your phone screen until you heard the bathroom door open. Kazuha came out wrapped in a rather short towel, which covered only what was necessary, and once again you were mesmerized by the sensual shape of her body. She noticed you immediately, and climbed onto the bed to lie beside you, her head resting on her hand and her elbow.

"Did you miss me, Daddy?" she asked, seeing you with a playful little smile.

Before you could formulate an answer, you couldn't help but notice that in that position her towel had been lifted to almost her waist, so her buttocks were exposed and at your disposal. You couldn't see her intimate part, but if only she had turned a little, you would have been able to see that too.

"Nah, you didn't take that long," you teased her, with a small smile on your face as you looked at the ceiling.

"Oh come on!" she whimpered, "it took me half an hour, how is it possible that you didn't miss me?" she climbed on top of you and took the phone out of your hands so that you would put all your attention on her.

Kazuha completely caught you with her thighs, and you couldn't and didn't want to do anything about it. Her towel went up even more, and now her naked ass was totally exposed to you, that combined with feeling her pussy pressed against your crotch over the fabric, began to make the blood flow to your bulge.

"And why should I miss you so much, brat?" you raised an eyebrow, "do you think I have no other things to distract myself with?"

"Because I'm the only daddy's baby girl..." while saying that Kazuha brought two fingers to the fold of her towel on her chest, and slowly untangled it until she fell from her body to yours, showing you her pair of modest but incredibly sexy tits, "right?"

Your eyes almost popped out of your sockets when you saw Kazuha's completely naked body on top of you, a smile formed on your face, and when you finished scrutinizing every visible corner of her, you took a handful of her hair and pulled her towards you, so that her chest was flat against yours. Your faces inches from each other.

"I warn you, little whore, you don't want to provoke me any more than you already are," you said quietly, alternating your gaze between her lips and her eyes.

"And why not? I just want to make sure Daddy has eyes just for me," even though you were gripping her hair tightly, Kazuha managed to crack a smile full of mischief.

"I have eyes only for you right now, but you're behaving like a spoiled fucking whore," in a sharp move you turned the tables, and now you were on top of her, with a grip that had gone from being in her hair to being on her neck, not strong enough for choke her but to keep her in place. Kazuha continued with that little malicious smile, with her hand on your wrist, "don’t worry, I’m not one of those who deny their girl what she wants, but you should know that everything you are looking for right now, is gonna be returned to you, multiplied by a thousand." 

"That means daddy will really make me his cum dump?" she asked with a mischievous little brow lift, as she lifted her hips and brushed your crotch with her leg.

You watched her in complete silence for a few short seconds, until you got off top of her and got out of bed to stand by the edge of it.

"Undress me, little whore," you ordered, endowing yourself with unexplored dominant abilities. Kazuha turned her neck and stared at you for a few seconds while she was still lying down, biting her lower lip and then looking down at the bulge in your pants. 

"Yes daddy," she replied with a small smirk.

Kazuha got up, crawled towards you, and then knelt up to be at the height of your face; the girl took your sweater out of your pants while you took off your watch and left it on the bedside table next to the bed; it didn't take long for your sweater to be out of your torso, so Kazuha concentrated on unbuttoning your pants and pulling them down with everything and boxers to your ankles, where you completed the work by getting out of your shoes and then the clothes. Now both you and she were completely naked in front of each other. You took a moment to see Kazuha's perfect body again, making a small stop at her pretty, shaved pussy.

"Mmm, I think I want to have some fun first," you said, then you put two fingers in your mouth, filled them with saliva and brought them to her slit, slowly sliding them back and forth. Kazuha made the attempt to take your cock with her hand, but you quickly stopped it with a slap on her wrist, "Oh hell no. You don't have permission to grab Daddy's cock yet."

"B-but, I want to feel daddy's cock!" she whimpered, her face somewhat reddish as you started rubbing her pussy with your fingers, "I-t's not f-fair, ah..." the moans came out of her mouth alone, and as much as she wanted to keep complaining like the brat she was, the first finger you inserted inside her completely collapsed her desire to win.

Kazuha's knees became somewhat weak as you inserted the second finger inside her, so you took the opportunity to push her and make her fall on her back on the mattress, legs wide open without even asking her. You noticed from how she had her legs open that her flexibility was quite out of the ordinary, and you wanted to test it later. For now, you concentrated on kneeling right next to her, your throbbing cock floating inches above her face; you spread her legs even wider, and put your two fingers back inside her, moving them slowly at first because of how tight she felt. 

"Suck that cock, baby," Kazuha didn't even think twice, she obeyed your command immediately and caught the tip of your cock with her mouth, sucking a few inches until she reached the middle of your shaft, where she began to pump her head at a considerable pace, "that's a good girl," you congratulated her,  noticing that she hadn’t used her hands.

Her only response was to let out a small moan around your cock, to which you responded back by moving your wrist faster, your fingers completely going in and out of her pussy. You let Kazuha keep sucking your cock freely for a few more long seconds, her face was distorted with pleasure, the main point being her frowning eyebrows and blushed cheeks as she left your cock full of saliva with each pump. You continued fingering her as fast as your wrist allowed, causing your palm to continually bump into her pubis.

"Alright, that's enough brat," you stopped her, earning you a dismayed look from her, which soon turned into one of slight surprise when you started moving your hips and fucking her mouth. Your left hand went to her head, grabbing a handful of her hair and grabbing it tightly to thrust hard against her mouth.

The tip of your cock began to hit her throat with each thrust, that together with how her pussy was fucked by your fingers transformed her into a trembling mess, and when you least expected it, she turned away from your cock to let out a loud moan and succumb to her peak of pleasure. The walls of her pussy almost suffocated your fingers, which were now pumping at a slower pace as she passed her orgasm. Her legs also closed tightly, trapping your wrist for a few long seconds until her thighs relaxed.

"I'm not done with you yet, baby girl," Kazuha's body was almost asleep due to her recent orgasm, so it was easy for you to settle between her legs, hold her ankles in the air and throw them all the way back, just as you supposed, that girl was fucking flexible, and it was demonstrated by how her two ankles were now on either side of her head as if it were the most natural pose,  "Be a good girl and hold your legs there, understood?"

Kazuha gulped and nodded repeatedly as she held her legs with her arms, a lust-filled look that cried out for you to fuck her.

Your cock was already lubricated by her saliva, and her pussy was already soaked for quite a while, it was enough to rub your tip a couple of times in her slit, from top to bottom, and press forward little by little, letting her tight pussy and soft folds swallow your entire shaft, slowly, inch by inch, until you were completely inside her. A coordinated moan flooded the room, she for feeling how you filled every corner of her hole, and you for feeling how exaggeratedly tight yet soft her pussy felt, it was a difficult feeling to assimilate, but if it had been possible to put your balls also inside her, you would have done it.

You rested both your hands on the mattress on either side of her hips and leaned forward so that your face was floating above Kazuha's. She continually looked into your crotches, but when she fixed her gaze with yours was when you started pumping in and out of her wet pussy, forcing her not to look away from you for a second. 

You were kind of delicate with her at first because you wanted to feel carefully the soft texture of her pussy walls and how they tightened around your axis, but the desire to give that little whore what she deserved was stronger than you. You started ramming down harder and harder, eliciting loud moans from Kazuha, who kept holding her legs with hardly any signs of weakness.

"Oh god, oh god! Your cock feels amazing daddy! So fucking amazing!" Kazuha yelled, digging her nails into her own legs as you fucked her now with all the strength you had.

"Would you like daddy to fill you up, huh?" you teased her, seeing her faint eyes, "I bet you're wanting to feel all my thick cum paint your walls."

"Fuck yes! I need so much daddy, please, please!" she pleaded between whining of pleasure.

A small drop of sweat fell down your temple and fell on Kazuha's neck, you were fucking her impetuously, pumping up and down against her pussy, your cock going in and out completely. You wanted to keep fucking her while you saw her beautiful and sensual face, but you needed a new position that you were waiting for a while.

You quickly came out from inside her and made her legs let go, then held her by the waist and made her lie face down, with her chest and stomach flat against the mattress. You re-entered her pussy, but this time in a prone bone position that allowed you to enjoy her firm ass, which you gave a couple of strong spanks before holding her by the waist and starting your thrusts again.

Kazuha plunged her face into the mattress and clung tightly to the sheets, crumpling her fingers and pulling them almost out of the edges of the bed. You supported the entire weight of your arms against her waist and lower back through your fingers, you were holding her tightly, comparable to the force with which you were pounding her pussy over and over again.

"I'm gonna... ah! I'm gonna cum again daddy, fuck! I'm gonna cum on that delicious fucking cock!" Kazuha groaned loudly, separating her face from the mattress for a moment to see you over her shoulder.

"Then fucking cum, you fucking whore," you kept your left hand on Kazuha's waist, but the right went straight to her hair to pull it back hard, causing the girl to explode with pleasure once more.

Kazuha's body shuddered amid intense spasms, and she plunged her face back into the mattress to drown out her moans, almost screams, of pleasure. You didn't give her any rest time, in fact, what you did was make her lift her butt high enough to turn it into a makeshift doggystyle. You had to hold her tightly, otherwise, it would have been impossible for her to stay in that position by herself for the first few seconds, but wanting to show you how good girl she was, you had to make no effort but to keep fucking her with the intensity of a sex machine, since she did everything possible to support herself.

"Please cum daddy, I need it so, so bad," Kazuha's pleas already sounded muffled, as if the energy inside her had been drained from inside her with a vacuum cleaner, "give all your load to your little baby girl, just cum already daddy, please!"

You would have lasted only a little longer, but Kazuha's pretty and desperate pleas managed to break your psyche. Your two hands went to her ass to squeeze the flesh of her buttocks between your fingers, you kept fucking her with all your strength, and finally after a few seconds, you exploded inside the tight pussy of a beautiful Japanese girl.

"Oh fuck yes... yes!" she let out a deep, long moan, "Ahhh ffffffuck," Kazuha growled as she watched you bite her lip, feeling you deposit all your cum inside her, it was several thick jets, and you didn't stop until the last drop of your load had come out of your cock.

You stayed inside her pussy for a few long seconds, taking a moment to enjoy that feeling for a little longer before you stepped out and let your cum fall free from her hole to the mattress. As you let your load drip from her pussy you leaned towards her, to bring your mouth closer to her ear.

"Good girl," you whispered, "you'll be a very cute cum dump," then you kissed her on the cheek, and she turned to get you to kiss her lips too.

You lay down next to her only to wrap your arms around her body and snuggle her up against you as you shared a deep kiss. Once again, while kissing her you had lost a little track of time and space, you had almost forgotten that you were in an expensive hotel room with a girl you had just met 2 hours ago, but you didn’t feel that way, you felt that you were kissing a person you had known for years.

"Daddy..." she murmured, breaking the kiss, "you're so... cute," Kazuha looked into your eyes, and you looked back at her, meeting a pair of pretty, glowing orbs that looked at you like you were a precious treasure. You were speechless for a moment, not knowing exactly what was happening at that moment, but you had to say the first thing that came to mind.

"Uh… you too, baby, a lot," you muttered back, and before you even knew it, you had given her a stupid smile.

Kazuha smiled from ear to ear, and despite it being night, you felt like the sun had risen again in the form of a person because of how radiant and beautiful her smile was. The next thing she did was kiss you again, but this time more briefly to separate from you and sit on the bed. What the fuck had happened?

"God, we have to order the sheets to be changed," she said nonchalantly looking at the cum where it had landed.

"We'll do it when we leave, go get ready, baby," you ordered her in a low, meek voice, caressing her lower back with your fingertips.

"Yes daddy!" she answered, remembering with some happiness that you had a destination to go to. She got out of bed as quickly as possible, but when she got to her feet to try to walk to her suitcase, her legs gave out and she wobbled so badly that she had to hold on to the wall to keep from falling. You could only hold back your laughter, turning it into a nasal laugh, "Ah fuck," she cursed under her breath.

"Everything alright baby?" you teased her, with a smile.

"No, I think definitely not, Daddy fucked me so hard now my legs are weak," she giggled too, and then was finally able to walk over to her suitcase.

She took all the clothes she was going to wear from her suitcase, a small handbag that you assumed was makeup, a hair straightener and went back to the bathroom. You took advantage of the moment to also get going and get dressed again, you didn't feel very comfortable putting on the same outfit again, but unfortunately you didn't have much choice.

Kazuha spent another hour and a half in the bathroom, of which you took about 20 minutes to take a nap, but when she finally came out you were sitting on the edge of the bed watching a show on the bedroom TV, and you couldn't to do anything other than raise both eyebrows and leave your mouth agape in astonishment.

Kazuha was wearing an outfit that only highlighted how fucking sexy and beautiful she was, she was wearing a black top that exposed her midriff, clavicle and shoulders, surrounded by four black leather belts, each with different buckles; gray jeans and completely black sneakers. Her chocolate-colored hair was perfectly ironed, and her face with a not too heavy makeup that highlighted her pretty eyes and lips.

"Well? How do I look daddy?" she asked, extending both arms out to the sides of her to do a few turns on herself.

"Outrageously beautiful, baby," you walked over to her and cupped her face with both hands to give her a couple of kisses on the lips, "Hey, you've got a nice set of shoulders, plus I could wash clothes on your abs, you do sport?"

"Oh Daddy" Kazuha giggled, "No, no. I like to go to the gym in my spare time, oh, and I did ballet until I was 17."

"Well, that explains everything."

"Aham," she placed her hands on your chest, "so you could literally fuck me standing with one leg on my shoulder."

"Don't give me ideas," you warned her, but you also thought of all the possibilities, each one hotter than the last.

"You asked first," she gave you a peck on the chin, and then pulled away from her, "let's go daddy, we have a long night ahead of us."

-----------------------------

Just as you'd expect on a Saturday night, the place you and Kazuha had chosen while walking through Itaewon was full of people. The deafening sound of music was all that hit your ears as soon as you walked in, but you immediately noticed an incredible atmosphere as you made your way through the crowd and Kazuha began to move her body to the rhythm of Lady Gaga's Judas. You had paid for a pair of VIP bracelets, which allowed you access to the exclusive area and open bar for all drinks and cocktails throughout the night, but Kazuha had told you that the first thing she wanted to do when you arrived was dance.

And there you were. Kazuha had a bright smile on her face as she began to get carried away by the music. You, in order not to stand still like an idiot, also began to dance subtly, but your only purpose was to see her. She moved her body hypnotically, with hips that could kill anyone with just one movement, at a certain moment she closed her eyes to immerse herself even more in the mood, a moment that you used to stand behind her and place your hands on her waist, Kazuha opened her eyes, turned for a second to give you a smile and continued dancing, this time with her back against your chest.

There came a time for you when you didn't even pay attention to what song was playing, you were so enthralled and caught up in Kazuha's flirtatious aura that keeping up with the music and her body was your only concern. If it wasn't for her stopping in the first place, you would have stayed there with her for quite a while longer.

"Daddy, can you take me to the bar? I want a drink," she said in your ear after turning around.

"Of course, baby, come on," you took her hand and pushed your way once more through the crowd until you reached the semicircle-shaped bar, where more than one bartender was working on various drinks for people who were waiting.

"Hi!" Kazuha greeted one of the workers, "I want a martini and…" she stared at you as she waited for your response.

"A mojito is fine with me, thanks," you nodded, sitting down on one of the empty stools, where you pulled Kazuha towards you and wrapped your arms around her waist, "Well? What do you think?" you asked in her ear.

"Is incredible!" she said with special emotion while looking at the place and then up, where the exclusive box for the place was, the lights looked different there, and you noticed, obviously, less concentration of people, "I'm certainly not disappointed!"

"I'm glad to hear it, I knew I hadn't chosen a bad place," you gave her a little kiss on the neck, and then she turned her face to kiss you for a few long seconds until the drinks were served to you.

You and Kazuha picked up the glasses and sipped your respective drinks, Kazuha raised both eyebrows and smirked when she tasted it, denoting that she had loved it. You weren't very used to drinking white rum, but the taste burned your throat quite pleasantly.

"Gosh, it's delicious!" Kazuha said, looking at her cocktail, before downing the rest in one gulp and leaving you with both eyebrows raised.

"Hey hey! What the fuck?!" your eyes were wide open, you certainly didn't expect that.

"What? I can order whatever I want all night, it's not a problem," as expected, she had her face scrunched up as the alcohol ignited her body.

"And if you want to enjoy the night in a satisfying way, I recommend that you don't use a martini as a shot," you warned her, and then you took a normal sip from your mojito glass.

"I don't promise you anything, sorry Daddy!" she wailed in the most false way possible, "another one please!" she told the bartender. You sighed, concentrating on not losing your temper.

"Listen to me, you damn brat," you grabbed her arm, not too hard, just for her to pay attention to you, "you're going to do what I tell you, you're not in charge here."

"Hmm, or what?" she teased you, cocking her head.

"It's just a warning, it's your problem if you want to accept it or not," you squeezed her arm a little harder and then released it.

"Let's go upstairs daddy!" she said when she got her drink.

She strode away from you and into the crowd, taking you so by surprise that you literally ran to chase her up the stairs to the upper box. You had to grab her wrist a lot harder for her to wait for you.

When you got to the upper box, the first thing that caught your attention was the great difference in activities that were taking place there, apparently the limitations or rules were not something that existed there for some reason, there were people doing all kinds of crazy things, from the slightest thing like drinking straight from a vodka bottle until receiving lap dances that weren’t subtle at all.

"Damn, I kinda like this place even more," Kazuha said, biting her lip and then giggling.

She took your hand and walked in front of you while you looked for a completely empty sofa, curiously you found one that was perfect, in a corner, away from the spotlight. They were leather sofas in the shape of a semicircle, with a round table backlit with white lights right in the middle. Kazuha let you sit down first, that way she could get to you and sit on your right leg.

"There must be some major motherfucker up here, otherwise I don't know how that guy could be getting a lap dance from a topless girl and not being warned or something," you said glaring, then taking a sip of the mojito.

"Looks like they're having a great time," Kazuha replied, settling her ass a little closer to your lap, "seems like something I'd do," she took a long sip from her glass, leaving it half empty.

"But something you clearly won't do, right?"

"Of course not daddy! At least for now, we'll see… maybe I'll just have my pants off," she laughed, taking another sip of the martini.

"Is the alcohol making you more rebellious than usual or what? It hasn't even been 10 minutes since you started drinking and you're already acting like a brat."

"I'm not being a brat..." she sat on her side and put her two legs up on yours, "I'm actually, a brat," she brought her face closer to yours, "and not just a brat, I'm daddy's brat," she bit your lip a little harder than usual, then drank the rest of her martini right in front of your face.

"This little bitch... I can't believe it," you whispered, that had been fucking hot, but still your blood began to boil a little, both from the annoyance and from the alcohol. Kazuha began to move her upper body slightly, following the rhythm of the music as she waited for a waiter to arrive to order another drink. You kept drinking from the same glass, which was barely half full.

As time passed and the alcohol took its toll on her, Kazuha began to feel more and more liberated, she was in constant contact with you at all times, so you noticed how hot her body was due to the liqueur.

"Daddy, come dance with me," Kazuha was no longer grinning from ear to ear at all times, now she was more serious, with a lustful look on her eyes and flushed cheeks. She wasn’t drunk, she was at that precise point where you felt all your senses sharpen.

She made you wrap your arms around her waist, while she placed a hand on the back of your neck so that you would stay close to her neck at all times, that is how she began to guide you through the music with sensual and marked movements, focusing more in making you enjoy her body than the dance itself. Her ass was constantly rubbing against your crotch, and inevitably your cock began to get hard. Kazuha noticed this, and gripped your neck a bit more tightly, turning her face around and giving you a mischievous smile before sliding a hand between her back and your chest to give your bulge a firm squeeze.

"Hey!" you jumped, grabbing her wrist, "we're in a public place," you said in her ear.

"And?" she teased, then continued squeezing your cock over your pants.

"And you can't do this here, control yourself!" you stopped her a second time, to which she stopped dancing and turned to face you.

"But I'm very horny right now! I want daddy to fuck me," you noticed a certain demanding tone in her voice, which didn't help much in not losing your temper.

"I'm not going to give you what you want, and I'm not going to let you boss me around like that, you damn bitch," you warned her with a frown and a tight grip on her wrist.

"Then I guess I'll have to find another man to give me what I want, bye Daddy!" she broke free of your grasp and began to walk away from you. That was the limit for you.

"Come here you damn brat!" you snarled, catching up with her in just one stride. You were incredibly angry at the time, so much so that when you reached up and grabbed her wrist, you yanked her hard towards you like she was a rag doll. That made her moan, "You're fucking mine, do you understand? My fucking property," you said as you grabbed her chin hard, seized with a combination of jealousy and anger.

"Yes daddy, but you don't want to fuck me..." she moaned, completely surrendering to you, "and this tight pussy needs something to fill it badly."

"Let's go to the fucking bathroom. Now," you ordered, and then pulled her with you by the wrist.

You didn't even know where the hell the bathroom was, but you were letting yourself be so carried away by your impulses that after a few seconds walking you finally reached the bathroom, you didn't even notice if you had entered the men's or women's, you only knew that when you entered there was absolutely no one in there.

You roughly shoved Kazuha forward of her, causing her to fall to the bathroom floor in front of the long sink block made of black marble. You quickly closed the distance between you and her to get her back on her feet, pushing her back and turning her around so she could see herself and you in the mirror, which ran the entire length of the block horizontally.

"Stay fucking still," you growled looking at her in the mirror, her hair was a bit disheveled, but her face, especially her gaze, screamed to completely destroy her.

Your hands encircled her waist and unbuttoned her pants, lowered her zipper and without hesitating for a moment, pulled both her pants and her balenciaga panties down to her knees, from where they ended up falling to her ankles. She gasped, and pulled out of both garments to kick them to the side. You gave one of her buttocks a strong spank that resounded throughout the bathroom, Kazuha moaned, and when you made sure that your hand had been marked on her skin, you fell to your knees right in front of her ass, you spread both buttocks with your hands. hands and plunged your mouth directly into her pussy.

"Oh fuck!" Kazuha moaned loudly, as you started to eat her pussy from behind.

You didn't want to do it for a long time, but the taste of her folds, your hunger to make her yours and her sensual moans made you spend more than a minute eating her pussy like a gourmet dinner. You ran your tongue up and down her slit repeatedly, stopping from time to time to insert a bit of your tongue inside her, which drove her crazy, bending her knees and pushing even more against your face.

You kept eating her pussy for a few more seconds, but you noticed that her ass needed some attention that it hadn't been receiving until now, that's why your tongue went from lubricating her pussy to eating her ass.

"Daddy! Ah! That feels… ah fuck! Weird..." and she was right, it was strange for her at first, but as your tongue, along with your fingers, continued to play with her ass, the more she enjoyed it.

When you considered that she had had enough, you stood up again and quickly unbuttoned your pants, then lowered them with your boxers to your ankles. You felt a rush of adrenaline at that moment, anyone could walk in at that precise moment and see you with your rock hard cock behind Kazuha, but that only made everything more attractive and sexy for you.

Just to make sure you spit on your own cock and lubed it up well, before bending your knees slightly and rubbing your tip up and down over her slit, you saw her through the mirror, meeting pleading eyes and a mouth parted with gasps, and not wanting to waste much more time, you lined up with her and maked just a one hard thrust, your cock disappearing into her tight, wet pussy.

"Holy ffffuck!" Kazuha snarled, dropping her head forward and clinging tightly to the edge of the sink block. A moan escaped your mouth as well, feeling a dance of hot sensations run through your body as you once again felt the silky, tight walls of her pussy engulf your entire length.

Your hands went to her waist, your fingers firmly squeezing her meat when you began to fuck her with all the energy and desire to give her what she deserved. Kazuha immediately began to squeal with pleasure as your pelvis crashed aggressively against her ass with each of your thrusts.

"You're fucking mine, is that clear to you, you fucking brat?" you asked in a raspy voice, taking one of your hands to her hair to pull it back and make her arch her back until it almost brushed against your chest.

"Yes daddy, I'm sooo fucking yours!" she answered you between loud moans that, to your relief, absolutely no one could hear, "I'm daddy's little whore, only daddy's!"

"Then you're going to stop acting like a fucking spoiled bitch!" you grunted and then released her hair with a sharp shove, which caused her to lay her stomach flat on the shiny surface.

You took advantage of her new position to grab her left leg and bring her knee up onto the sink block, giving you a better angle to continue hammering her pussy furiously. Kazuha's moans turned into screams and deep growls that you could feel ripping in her throat, she enjoyed being used as a little sex toy with which to vent your anger, and most of all feeling your cock slamming deep inside her.

You gave her ass a couple more spanks, each one hard enough to leave a mark that wouldn't go away for hours. Both of her buttocks were already red, but that wasn't enough to let her know who was in charge.

You left her pussy, and in one quick movement you turned her around again to grab her by the waist, lift her to the sink block and spread her legs wide to get back inside her. Your gaze met hers, and despite the fact that you wanted to kiss those pretty parted lips, you knew that the right thing to do was not to give in to her charms.

A break was the last thing you wanted to give her, but you were also sure she didn't want something like that. You continued fucking her as if your life depended on it, your bodies became sweaty, and in the middle of your thrusts some drops fell on her perfect and toned abdomen. Kazuha kept moaning like crazy, but you decided to shut her up in a very simple way; both of your hands went straight to her neck, you wrapped your fingers around it and squeezed hard, cutting off any sound coming from her throat, and her breath.

And as if that were some kind of special switch, as soon as your fingers pressed against her throat, Kazuha growled from deep inside her in an intense explosion of pleasure that made her tremble; the tight walls of her pussy nearly crushed your cock due to the strong orgasm she was having, but you didn't give a shit, you just kept fucking her hard through her ecstasy.

"That's right, cum for Daddy and Daddy only, fucking slut," on an impulse you slapped her hard with your right hand, and you would have regretted it right away, but that only made Kazuha squeal and growl even louder, then you noticed that she wanted to say something, so you eased your grip on her neck.

"Please cum inside your little princess daddy," she begged, looking into your eyes, with hair in her face and a few strands sticking to her forehead due to sweat, "Use my pussy however you please! I'm just daddy's cum dump!"

After saying that Kazuha wrapped her legs around your torso, trapping you tightly and pulling you closer to her, that made it much more difficult for you to hold on much longer. You didn't continue to choke her, instead you reached up to the nape of her neck and pulled her hair again, exposing her long, sweaty neck for you to kiss and lick as you gave the last few thrusts before exploding inside her pussy.

Normally you would never have moaned as loudly as you did at that moment, but all the sensations combined were extremely overstimulating for you. You bit into her neck, and then her shoulder, while shooting multiple thick strips of cum onto the walls of her pussy. Kazuha accompanied you with more high moans, which harmonized with yours and made you completely surrender to her. Her thighs tightened on each side of your torso, not letting you go under any circumstances until you left absolutely all your seed inside her.

It took a few slow pumps until your own orgasm passed, you squeezed your eyes shut, and let your head fall forward to rest your forehead on her shoulder. Both of you were breathing hard, as if you had run a marathon, her hair, which had been perfectly ironed before, was now ruined, and even her top was somewhat out of place, crooked on the right side. You stayed inside her for a few long seconds while you both rested, and when you regained your composure, you straightened up and slowly pulled your cock out from between her folds, letting a thick river of hot load spill out from inside her.

"You came a lot this time Daddy..." Kazuha sighed, biting her lip and then using two of her fingers to scoop up some of your cum from her pussy to take directly into her mouth to swallow, "was I a good girl?"

"No, you were anything but that, but you're lucky you drive me crazy," you grabbed her chin, and placed a small kiss on her lips.

"Oh yeah?" she raised an amused eyebrow, knowing that now she could do literally anything without you punishing her for it.

"I don't even know why I open my mouth," you sighed, shaking your head. It was at that moment that you remembered where you were, "Oh shit! We're fucking lucky, get dressed quickly!"

You helped her down from the sink block and then handed over her clothes. You both dressed and got ready as fast as you could, fearing for the first time that someone would walk in and see you both there together. Kazuha took some extra time to make her hair look halfway decent, and she certainly did, but she still looked like she'd been rolled down a hill.

"Fuck, we didn't clean that up," you said, looking at the pool of cum in the sink that dripped onto the floor.

"Never mind! Someone else will clean it up, let's just get out of here," once again, and as if nothing had happened, Kazuha was the one who took your hand and pulled you out of the bathroom.

To your surprise, everything was still exactly the same up there, no one had noticed your presence, and apparently they had not realized that you had been there for a long time, but before you continued walking you stopped when you remembered something. Heejin.

"Baby, go sit down, I need to send a message," you gave Kazuha a small kiss on the temple, and then another on her lips, "I won't be long."

"Yes daddy! I'll be waiting for you," she complied, walking away from you with little totters.

You took out your phone, entering Heejin's chat.

When you finished sending the messages you put your phone back in your pocket, and walked to meet Kazuha again. You didn't want to think about it too much, but you had the feeling that everything was going in a direction that you hadn't thought of from the beginning. You had definitely felt a connection with Kazuha, and you had all kinds of worries about it, but for your own sake and hers you decided to suppress those thoughts, and just dedicated yourself to enjoying the rest of the night with her.

——————————————————————————

Spren Notes:

I have nothing to say, honestly just excuse me for making y'all wait so long for this shit lol. Notably, I didn't realize I'd written 3 different smut scenes until I did, wow, I really got carried away by this girl. Anyway, thank you all so much for reading!

If you, dear reader, are also interested in buying me a commission, do not hesitate to go through my inbox, I’ll be delighted!

[obscuretobyfox]

The recent UNDERTALE/DELTARUNE Newsletter revealed a ton of concept art for enemies, done by Splendidland! There's way too much to make individual posts on, so I'll just post all the art with notes here!

"My friend Samanthuel (aka Splendidland) did a ton of concept art for Chapter 2! Sadly I couldn't use all of it because many of the concepts didn't end up aligning with my final vision for the game, but the designs themselves are super amazing! I'm thankful I got to use any of them.

Specifically I really wanted to use the paint enemy as a miniboss, since I thought it would be really fun mechanic.

Below were her notes on all of them! She also provided ideas on how she thought they could be used." - Toby Fox

"I was given the broad theme of "cyber world" and told to pretty much just design whatever I wanted, expecting only a handful to actually make it in. I made all of these within a couple days, just making whatever came to my mind." - Splendidland

(From here on out, all quotes are from Splendidland.)

"01: Hacker Guy (idk what their name is), wants to discover the secrets of the world and has special abilities, though they aren't aware of them. "Hacks" by randomly smashing keys and even swinging their mouse around in the air, could keep escalating in silly ways.

02: Handsome Face...

03: When they stand over a spot that can be "hacked into", their cursor shaped head turns into a pointing finger. They don't notice this change, so it's up to you, the player, to help them."

"04: heheh....

05: Funny Egg, their body contains a virtual pet. Can the fate of this pet be altered? Maybe not... Has an existential crisis if the pet dies, as their body is a battleground of life and death.

06 :Broken Image, their life is in ruins

07: Recycle Bin

08: Trash Fly, represents uncollected "garbage data"

09: Kiss-kiss"

"10: Painter, would basically be like Adeleine but with crude ms paint effects, especially the airbrush."

"11: Diskette, spins in place until talked to. "despite my looks, i am totally unable to save your progress"

"12: some kind of "internet" thing idk

13: "Data", little icon like creatures who march onwards with unknown purpose. they take part in the festival."

"14: Popup. hides underneath a tile and springs upwards annoyingly. touching its forehead makes it return underground temporarily. a pest."

"15: Virus, its head sways back and forth as it tries to hover in the air."

"16:Anti Virus, is it a cop or a doctor? maybe they see you as an enemy as you're an "outsider"?

17:Corrupted data or something"

"18:"Cyber World", a rough vision of what a world inside a computer could look like

19:Cyber House"

"20: Masked Dancers, they participate in the festival, each colour has a different movement pattern and dance style. very rough concept" Which one is your favorite? Mine is probably the tiny data creatures!

[just-some-random-blogger]

you know that photo of princess diana asleep at some “royal engagement” and it turned out she was pregnant at the time ? anyways I can’t help but imagine what would happen if aemond wife were to fall asleep at some engagement, meeting, etc

One Eye Open When I'm Sleeping

ONE EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEYYYYYYEEEEEEE

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: Aemond has been noticing a shift in your sleep pattern. He had his suspicions but didn't make note of it to you up until he unceremoniously announced it to everyone.

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: Fem!reader, wife!reader, misogynistic rats, mentions/depictions of pregnancy symptoms, ready to stab at any given moment & protective!aemond, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: i resuscitated myself into my aemond craze. tbh idk what happened with this fic i hope you enjoy tho nonnie. ALSO I LOOKED UP THE PICS OF DIANA AND SHE IS SUCH A PRINCESS SUCH A BABY GIRL IF SHE GOT SHIT FOR THAT I SWEAR I WILL PUT A HIT ON EVERYONE WHO SLANDERED MY QUEEN Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @risefallrise @sloanexx

Aemond drew circles on your back as he looked down at your sleeping form. Normally, you'd both be up and about at this time, awake far before the sun reached this height in the sky.

His reason was sleep did not come easy and came fast with him. Or at least that was before his darling wife came into the picture.

You on the other hand, his darling wife, were an early riser by choice. Not only do you enjoy watching the sun rise with a chirp and a smile at the start of the mornings, but you had also been accustomed to do so because of your mother.

This was why your continued slumber, flush, snoozing form snug against him, was something he had mentally been noting. He had no complaints. Why would he when his beloved bride was so comfortably nuzzled in his chest? Which also, in turn, allowed him to sleep longer. He noted it anyway still, at the forefront of his mind.

He noted your appetite changes also. And to this he was less permissive, especially in moments where you felt sick.

In this moment, he had the staff lined up by the side of the table as Aemond chewed his first meal of the day slowly, watching you intently as you did the same.

You licked your lips and offered a guilty look to the servants.

Aemond knew you would wait for the world to be in ruin than ever complain about anything.

"Wonderful meal," you smiled, turning to Aemond with a pleading look to let them be.

With a single nod he did, eyeing the head cook that eyed him back on her way out.

Aemond had various possible explanations for your eating patterns, for the queasiness, the lack of appetite, the intolerance for some food, and the immense cravings for others. One in particular, the most obvious and plausible of them all, you were with child.

He grabs your cup of wine before you could drink from it and offers a smile. You roll your eyes at him, thinking he was merely trying to tease you.

Aemond made it a point to divert the attention from you to the staff though. If you feel the need to vomit because of the meal, then they shall be reprimanded, and if you feel like you could eat the whole day, then they shall be rewarded.

Today it seems Aemond would need to speak with them and your intolerance to spinach.

And speak he did. You scowled deeply at him after for doing so and nagged his ear off for being so 'cruel' to the staff for the past week, simply because you were feeling under the weather. You told him the maesters gave you medicine for your ailment and that it was a problem with you and not the food.

Little did you know there was actually no real 'reprimanding' going on, at least not in the way you pictured it.

They were in on it.

The servants, the maesters. Aemond had been investigating with them the subtle changes you've been having. It was the head cook, Susana, who also happened to be a mother of five, that informed Aemond she was nearly certain you were with child.

All that was left was the maesters to verify it. Aemond's decision not to tell you until he heard the word from your measter stemmed from knowing how you'd be if in case he was wrong with his hunch. He knew he wasn't, but he wouldn't risk getting your hope up nonetheless.

But damn, he hadn't planned for you to learn of it like this. Though, had he not said it, he'd just killed the man in cold blood instead.

It happened so quickly.

"Say that again," Aemond blurted, face twitching, hands stretched out at the side of his body.

The lord ,who made the mistake of singling you out in the middle of the meeting, the meeting you were not even a part of, all because you were an easy target, scoffs and gives Aemond an incredulous look.

You had woken up from the nap you hadn't realized you took in the middle of it all because of Aemond's loud voice.

The lord pointed as he fumed, "your insolent, pretentious wife has done nothing but mock my house since the moment you've arrived!"

Aemond lets out a chuckle. Make no mistake, he was severely unamused.

He was about ready to lunge at him from your side of the table, but then you had managed to perk up and grab his hand. You look at up at him from where he stood next to your seat, hand quivering in your touch out of anger.

It was a wonder Aemond managed to speak in such a manner that did not give himself away, "I assure you, my lord, if my wife wished to mock you, she'd have done it before you bored her to death with your prolonged distractions in a manner so kindly, you'd not even realized she spat at your face."

The lord scoffs in utter disbelief, "you fucking c-"

"I, on the other hand, would gladly openly mock you and your pathetic excuse for a treaty," Aemond mutters, shaking your hands off him. "You think me a fool for your conditions? Any moron with one eye could see how you're trying to play me-"

"Aemond," you whisper.

But it was too late, Aemond lunged to him, slid across the table, and tackled him to the ground, pulling out a blade he kept always in his back pocket. His eyes were blown as he overpowered the man with a raging intent to seriously harm him. He mutters under his breath, "beg for your life."

"Aemond!" you cry out, running to him as the rest of the people in the room do the same.

Aemond watches at the man's face struggles against him. The prince chuckles dryly, "shall I execute you in front of your men?"

The man growls, "get him fuck off me!"

A few men begin to close in on him.

"If any of you touch me, I will slit his throat from ear to ear," Aemond raises his voice.

You begin to panic, "Aemond, please, enough of this."

"No," he barks back, eye not leaving his target, "he ought to beg me not to skin him for not only insulting me," he presses his dagger closer to the cretin's skin, "wasting my time in showing amity by even bringing my wife along this damned trip, but also for demeaning the one person that has kept me patient this whole bloody time!" Aemond rages. He begins to see red, "that person carrying my child, you dumb fuck," he grit his teeth, fury ablaze all over again.

Your eyes widen at your husbands words. You gasp when the man yelps when Aemond nicks his jaw.

He scoffs, "you call her insolent and pretentious, for what? Expressing indications of child bearing?!"

The man in Aemond's clutch begins to lose the color of his face.

Aemond looks down at him.

"I- I did not realize-"

"Of course you didn't realize, you dimwitted ninnyhammer," Aemond hisses, "you treat your own very evidently expecting wife with worse disdain."

"Aemond, please," you mutter rather weakly.

He snorts at the sound of it. He weighs his options.

He stills when you call out to him again.

Fine. He shoves the man back and gets off him, eyeing him darkly as he made his way to you. Once he did, he puts keeps his blade and takes your face in his hands. Part of him begins to be eaten away at the sight of your teary eyes.

But then he's infuriated all over again.

"Your grace, I-"

"Do not speak to me unless you want to lose your tongue," Aemond deadpans as he turns over his shoulder. He grabs your hand and walks out, "you needn't worry about a deliberation for your treaty. May the Seven help you with your endeavors against the crown."

[the-daydreaming-show]

Midnight thoughts on Batmom and her children's clothes.

WARNING: My mother was like this, Not on the money side, though. And you ask:¿Ella, are you projecting?, and I will answer: No. ¿Were you got such nonsense idea?

This gif represents my mind right now. I should be sleeping.

Batmom keeps its kids SPOTLESS when it comes to dressing. She doesn't control what they wear, but her kids have only the best brands on them. And if she couldn't get whatever they want in the best brand, it's gonna will be tailored for them.

JUST THE BEST FOR HER BABIES.

And she does not repeat it, there is no such thing as the younger brother taking the clothes of the older one in this family. Each child has their own style, autonomy and clothes, and they rarely agree on those things so sharing is never an option for them when it comes to clothing. If her baby grows out of their clothes, Batmom donate it or keep it for future grandchildren.

I mean, I'm talking about #silentluxury for her children, from they feet to the tip of their heads.

The funniest thing about all this is that most of the time they do not even realize it. It's not until a Gotham news forum pulls out a detailed article about the Wayne's silent luxury fashion and how it dates from Dick's early days at the mansion to the present day with Damian that they notice the pattern.

Like, imagine newly-reunited-with-his-family-but-still-rebellious Jason wearing a sweatshirt of the brand The Row that clearly bought his mom and costs at least $ 800 that he can not pay because he is a rebel and does not need his dad's money but he acepts gifts from his mum, of course.

Or little Dick returning from a day of art classes (because Batmom decided to give him other extracurricular activities other than a vigilante dressed as a traffic light) excited with his Dior jeans of $ 1300 dollars stained in paint, but with a work of art in his hand that he did only for his mommy.

Or Tim, wearing a pair of $450 black Gucci sandals, walking half-asleep out of his college class after he didn't hear his alarm, so he left with the first thing he found from his apartment.

Or Damian, putting one of his cashmire sweaters on Titus at Christmas, wearing a maching of his own, equally expensive and soft.

Also, imagine Cassandra only wearing THE BEST in balett shoes and equipment, totally unconsciously of the amount of money that really costs, all that because neither Batmom nor Bruce ever told her because it's nothing really that expensive for this family.

And no matter how many clothes they ruin. Never. And I repeat: NEVER their mom will allow her children to have something less.

(They are more spoiled than they themselves even realize.)

Bruce got jealous at some point and started letting Batmom choose his wardrobe as well.

Allright, NOW I'm done.

Good night.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

are there any mini hcs for like an mc that deflects a lot. like if someone asks if they’re alright or hurt or anything, they always turn it around to the other person instead of actually answering

The Arcana Mini-HCs: M6 with an MC who likes to deflect

see also: MC who praises but refuses to be praised :)

Julian: all he notices at first is how difficult it is to fuss over you and cover you with loving gestures. why won't you let him give you his coat?? now his approach is to keep asking the question til you answer

Asra: ohhh, yeah, so you doing that is pointing out their own issue with doing that, and now you're both going to have to learn how to openly express difficulty to move forward. you've got this!!

Nadia: calls you on it as soon as she sees it's a pattern. she asked you a question, MC, you are by no means obliged to answer it, but you could at least give her the dignity of saying you don't want to -

Muriel: won't push it, but picks up on your deflection instantly and combats it by giving you a disapproving/lovingly concerned/"please talk to me" stare until you cave and answer his question anyways

Portia: notices and initially assumes it's because there's something more going on that you're not ready to talk about. concocts the wildest speculation about what it is and confronts you about that

Lucio: lets you deflect and deflect until it finally catches up with you, and then lovingly tells you off because "I asked you about it forever ago, why didn't you say anything?? I'm not a mind reader!"

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

In Bloom 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, allusions to trauma, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After wasting much of your youth in a toxic situation, things are starting to look up. That’s until you meet a certain flower seller.

Characters: Cole Turner, short!reader

Note: It's a fine Tuesday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You walk around the market with your cone. Strawberry. You never really had ice cream much, not until Aunt Bev. It's good but sweet. The coldness makes your head ache. 

As you traverse the crowd, you grow overwhelmed. So many people in one place makes your head spin. Aunt Bev is too distracted by all the sights and sounds to notice when you drop your cone. You leave it on the ground and keep going. 

A girl stands behind a table of goods. Second-hand but pretty. Purses with hand-sewn patterns and crochet sweaters with frilly collars. They're cute. You browse from afar but don't point them out. A large blond man blocks her from your view and your nerves get the of you. 

As you look back to your aunt, you don't find her. Where is she? She was just there. 

You spin and search the crowd. She's not there. What happened? You only looked away for a moment. 

Your heart picks up as you stumble back. Your lashes flutter and your lungs burn. What do you do? You hug tight the flower pot with one arm, your other hand on your purse. Oh no, no, no. 

You turn and rush through the first opening you see. You just need to get in the clear then you can find her. You need somewhere to see her from. A vantage point to get your bearings.  

You keep telling yourself it will be okay but it doesn't feel okay. You rush past people, a smear of faces and bodies all around, the world a cacophony to your ears. You break free of the press and gasp for air. 

Just as you think you're free, you crash into something. Someone. You step back and look up. You know them.  

It's that flower seller. Cole. He barely catches the pot before it slips from your arm. 

“Hey, you alright?” He asks as he helps you get a hold of the daylilies. “Where's Bev?” 

You crane to see over your shoulder then look back to him. You shake your head and give a frazzled grimace. You can't even speak. 

“You lost her, didn't you?” He says, “no worries, you can hang out with me. Mrs. Lee was just watching my booth while I ran to the bathroom. I'm on my way back now.” 

You push your shoulders higher and bounce on your heels. You don't know what else to do. He's the only other familiar face there, even if he is a stranger still. 

You nod and clutch the plant tighter. He gestures you ahead of him and you step past him. He points you towards his stall, directing you with his voice. Even from behind, you can sense his size, you can feel how big he is. You know what damage someone your own size can wrought, so to even imagine what he could do, if he wanted, chills you to the bone. 

You slow as you near the table of plants and pots. He skirts around you, beckoning you behind the long table at the front. A woman with rosy cheeks smiles to greet him. 

“There you are. And you found a friend, no wonder you took so long,” she chides. 

“Sorry, it’s a bit hectic,” Cole rubs his forehead. 

“Oh, I understand,” she winks at you. 

“Mrs. Lee,” Cole motions to her as he introduces her, “you know Bev, this is her niece. She’s looking for her aunt.” 

“Ah, I’m sure you’ll find her,” Mrs. Lee says, “I’ll let her know if I see her. Cole will keep you good company.” 

“Ha, er, thanks, Mrs. Lee,” he sniffs, “I don’t wanna keep you any longer. Thanks for watching the booth.” 

“I tell you all the time, you should get some help,” she tuts, “see you around.” 

She waves at you as she sidles out from the booth and you watch her cross to her own, just across from Cole’s. He turns to you, sweeping back a stray shank of hair back into a fluffy swoop. You look around nervously. You feel bad for intruding. You’d hate to get in his way. 

“Here, sit,” he outstretches his arm to the chair as he touches your shoulder. 

He surprises you and you wince away from him. You don’t argue. You shouldn’t. He’s being nice and he’s trying to help you. Even if you never asked. Even if you barely know him. He gives you a smile and lifts his chin, peering around over the heads of the crowd around him. 

You sit and cross your ankles. You rock nervously as you find yourself walled in by the flowers. There isn’t much space between you and Cole. He’s distracted from his search by some approaching customers. He serves them in the same gentle tone he had you and Aunt Bev.  

You feel worse the longer you sit there. You’re like a child. You just turned twenty-five and you’re still just a burden to everyone. 

You feel your pulse racing and your ears thrumming. The longer you sit there, the more helpless you feel. Your vision skews and you put your chin down, staring at the yellow petals as you try to rein in your panic. Will Aunt Bev come find you? 

“You okay?” Cole’s voice makes you flinch. 

You look up at him and just stare. A droplet of sweat rolls down from your hairline as the sun beats into your scalp. He grabs the bottle of water from beneath the front table and bends to look you in the eye. You shy away as he puts the back of his fingers to your cheek. 

“You’re pretty warm. You should have something to drink,” he advises as he pulls back his hand to uncap the bottle, “here. It’s fresh. Yours.” 

You look at him dumbly then the bottle. You move the pot to balance on your lap, one hand on the rim, as you take the water with your other. You shakily hold it and put it to your lips. You are awfully thirsty. 

“Is that—Cole!” Your aunt calls shrilly and appears on the other side of the table, “oh thank god! I’ve been running around searching everywhere. You found her.” She touches her chest, a swoon trembling on her lip, “oh, how can I ever thank you?" 

Cole turns, standing straight. Once more his figure makes you feel even smaller. 

“No need. She was just hanging out,” he turns his hands out, “no big deal, right? Everyone’s in one piece. Lost and found.” 

“Oh, but you didn’t have to...” she fans herself and glances at you. You don’t miss the gesture she tries to make subtle as she beckons him further down the table. You look at the flowers as she lowers her voice. You can’t make out her words but you assume she’s warning him about you. 

“Honey, we should go,” she chirps as Cole backs up, “Lena will be worried.” 

“Alright,” you stand, hands full as your purse slips to dangle at your elbow. 

Cole faces you and you can barely look at him. It isn’t just that he frightens you, it’s his expression. It must be whatever your aunt told him. 

“Thanks,” you croak as you near and offer him the bottle back. 

“Keep it,” he says as he shows his palms, “please. Go. Have a happy birthday.” 

You put your head down and brush by him. It’s tight behind the table but he could move more, couldn’t he? Your aunt clings to your arm as you come close. 

“Oh, Cole, you are a life saver,” she says, “I owe you one.” She tugs you away from the flowers, “come on, hon. Are you okay?” 

You nod as you let her usher you away. You’ve had enough excitement for one day, even your birthday. You just want to go back to her house and figure out where to plant the daylilies. You know that won’t be what happens. You have to paste on a smile and eat cake, be the good girl you were raised to be. 

🪻

The sun bores down on your back as you keep your head down to the light. You sit amid the soil, pulling out errant weeds as you check the stems and petals for any signs of pest. There is only you and the smell of dirt, the vibrance of a multitude of hues, and the low hum of insects crawling and flying around the lush garden. 

In those moments, you can forget. There is no noise in your head, there are no memories, there is only beauty. Time is nothing. You exist in a standstill. 

"How lucky I am to have a diligent little gardener," Aunt Bev frightens you from your foiliage-induced meditation, "it looks wonderful out here. I'm afraid if it were up to me, it may have all turned brown." 

"Oh, uh," you fall of your knees, sitting on your bum as you turn to see her, "sorry, is it late?" 

"No, hon, I'm just checking on you," she smiles. 

You push your lips together and dust off your hands, "how was work?" 

"Good, thanks for asking," she comes down the steps of the deck and sits on the lowest one, "How's it going out here? It looks spectacular?" 

"Mmm, I had to pull the petunias, there was an infestation," you point to the barren patch. "Sorry." 

"Oh, well that's fine," she smiles, "I'm sure Cole can come up with some suggestions for a replacement." 

You nod and purse your lips. The reminder of him makes you cringe inside. You're still embarrassed to think of how lost you were at the market. You must have come off as a weirdo. 

"He's coming for dinner so he'll want to check out the garden," she chimes. 

"Coming for dinner?" You repeat, "tonight?" 

"Of course," she laughs as if it's no big deal. "I want to thank him for keeping you safe last week. Again, I'm so sorry, honey, I didn't mean to lose you like that." 

"It's... it's okay. I'm an adult, I..." you falter. You're an adult but you've never lived like one. 

"I know. You are. You're so very mature but you're also special and you need a little extra care, just like you do for the flowers." 

You hum flatly and look away. She always has such a nice way of saying the ugly things. You know exactly what she means. You're all messed up in your head. 

“Mm, okay, I...” you glance at your clothes. Your jeans are smeared with dirt and your nails are filthy. You blanch and look at your aunt. 

“No worries, you finish up out here,” she smiles, “then you can come in and get cleaned up. He won’t be here for...” she pauses to check her watch, “more than an hour.” 

“Right, er...” you blink. You always feel so lost. You never know what the proper thing to do it but you’re learning. “Could-- can I help with anything?” 

She smiles, “oh, that’s so sweet of you to offer. If you like, you can make a salad. Your uncles going to fire up the barbecue, he doesn’t want to heat up the house too much. And it’ll be nice to eat outside and admire all your hard work.” 

“Um, okay,” you grab the trowel and your forgotten gloves, disposed to allow for more tactile grip, “I’m pretty much done now.” 

You stand and shake off the rest of the dirt. She gets up too, groaning as she rubs her lower back. You cross to trail her up the steps and can’t help a mope. You love your Aunt Bev, she’s done so much for her, but you will never be like her or the rest of them. You’re trying but you just don’t think you’ll ever be normal. 

You put the towel in the orange pot with the rest of the garden tools and drop the gloves on top. You kick your shoes off before you follow Aunt Bev through the sliding door. You leave your dirt caked treads on the mat and go to wash your hands. 

As you try to decide what to put in the salad, you get an idea, the kind that tickles your brain. You finish scrubbing under your nails and dry your hands. You wander out to find Aunt Bev, your nerves flurrying. Maybe you should ask. You already have so much. 

“Hey, hon, what’s up?” She appears as she tugs on the hem of a loose flowered tee, “you look lost.” 

“Oh, erm, I was thinking... about the salad,” you wring your hands and shrug, “it was silly though.” 

“What?” She looks excited, “now you have to tell me.” 

“Well, er, what if... what if I grew some tomatoes? We could put them in salads.” 

“Ah, that’s lovely!” She claps her hands, “you’ll have to ask Cole about that too.” 

You fold your arms and tuck your chin down. Cole... just the mention of him makes you tense. It’s enough that you’re always surrounded by people; Lena, Mason, Uncle Morris. You can’t handle another new face, another person to deal with. Even he did help you, you never asked for it. 

[gatitties]

Heyyy, I was wondering if you could do Dad! Sanzu x teen! Daughter! Reader where she has an eating disorder due to not feeling any control over anything that happens in her life since Sanzu is addicted and stuff and Sanzu finding out and how he reacts and what he does to help her! Tyy

─Dad!Sanzu x teen!daughter!reader (platonic)

─Summary: your life begins to fall apart because of your father's addictions, but it's never too late to get back on track.

─Warnings: drugs, alcoholism, a little angst?

Part two

─ Your bad eating habits began just as Sanzu began with his addiction, a spiral of unfavorable events in which you found yourself dragged.

─ At first it wasn't that noticeable, since you were able to control some aspects of your life without a father present, however, it was too much pressure for a teenager.

─ You didn't have to be the one to pay attention to payroll and housing payments, to electricity, water, and food expenses, even though Sanzu brought an exaggerated amount of money, if he didn't know how to distribute it it wouldn't be of any use.

─ Not to mention that you had to take care of cleaning the house and the studies, counting on helping your father whenever he came home drunk.

─ Stress and lack of attention made you change all your life patterns, insomnia and nutritional deficiencies, you felt that you were only living so that your only family would not fade away, since despite everything you loved your father and you always tried to get him to at least leave the world of drugs, it was too late to leave crime, especially if it was his main source of income.

─ And honestly, Sanzu wouldn't have realized how emaciated you looked until some of your uncles, more specifically, the Haitani brothers, pointed it out.

─ It was a slap in the face for your father, all the drunkenness left his body when he came home and saw you awake just a couple of hours before your classes started, you were doing the homework that you had not been able to do because you were busy with other things.

─ You were scared when you felt him hug you, crying on your shoulder while he apologized between incomprehensible babbling due to his condition.

─ You consoled him with a few pats on the head, making it clear that you didn't hate him but the bad habits and environments he moved through.

─ He promised you to control himself, he promised you to take care of all those things that you shouldn't take care of at this age, he promised you to be a better father for you.

─ Although the change did not happen immediately, and the absence was still noticeable in the house, you did not have to control the money again to keep everything in order, you did not have to make the purchase on your own.

─ Sanzu began to leave notes around the house, since because of his work he couldn't always be with you, he made sure that you were well fed, if he had time before leaving, he would leave you breakfast or lunch prepared, if he couldn't, he would ask Kakucho to stop by the house to give you some food and ask you how you are doing in class.

─ He cut short his time in brothels and cut off some bad relationships to spend more quality time with you.

─ He made sure you rested properly, even forbidding you from doing tasks as simple as washing the dishes.

─ He doesn't want to see you as bad as that time again, it seemed like you didn't even think, that you were an automated robot to do essential things, the drug was not only consuming him, but also his loved ones and he didn't want to experience that again.

─ Of course, quitting an addiction is not something he can do overnight, but he would take the time he needed so that at least you could live a normal adolescence and life, away from all the shit he had at his back.

[libraryofgage]

PJO Steddie Five

One | Two | Three | Four

Here it is! We learn El's parent in this one, and there's a wonderfully healthy dose of Steddie throughout the whole part.

There's a meme on this one, too lol

If you see any typos, no you didn't ^_^

-----

It should not have taken five days to drive from Athens, Tennessee, to Camp Half-Blood in Long Island. Eddie wouldn't be surprised if Chrissy and his bandmates thought he'd died some horrible death while on this retrieval. But Eddie would love to meet the person who can tell Steve and a gaggle of demigod children to hurry up and get to camp already. They spent two days at Hearth and Home just for the pool, and various stops along the way followed that same pattern.

It was, in all honesty, the most relaxed retrieval mission Eddie has ever fucking experienced. Only one monster ever gave them trouble (another harpy--go figure--that Steve dispatched with ease and no injury) while the rest would sniff around and eventually have their eyes glaze over like they'd lost interest or encountered something familiar. They'd then move on, leaving the group to continue their meal in relative peace.

But for as relaxed as Eddie and the kids are, Steve is ramped to the absolute limit. His shoulders remain tense, his leg bounces whenever he sits still too long, his eyes constantly survey their surroundings, and he seems to have placed a distance between himself and Eddie. It hurts to see, especially considering the literal spark between them, but Eddie tells himself it's just until they get to camp and Steve sees for himself that they're safe.

And that moment is getting closer as they hike up Half-Blood Hill, Steve's car left at the foot until Eddie can convince Chiron and Mr. D to let him park it in the camp itself. "That big tree there is where the protective barrier starts," Eddie explains, pointing at Thalia's tree. "It used to be a girl, but there was a whole thing with the Golden Fleece, and long story short, she's running around with Artemis now."

"Can I run around with Artemis?" Max asks, her voice eager as she falls back to keep pace with Steve and Eddie.

Steve snorts, and Eddie notices the way his hand tightens on his bat. His knuckles turn white and the muscles in his forearm straining slightly and Eddie has to look away before his mouth gets too dry. "Maybe when you're older," Steve says, "After you can beat me in a spar."

Max groans, stomping her way back to Lucas with hunched shoulders and a quiet mutter that she won't be winning anytime soon.

They reach the top of the hill then, and Eddie watches as the group slows down. El in particular falls back until she's next to Steve and can grip his hand tightly. Her beanie seems to be squirming, but the movement is so subtle that Eddie thinks he's probably seeing the air ripples from the heat. He hurries to the front of the group and grins at them. "Okay! You ready to enter Camp Half-Blood, AKA the best place ever?" he asks.

"Just get on with it already," Mike says, crossing his arms as Erica nods in agreement.

Eddie, in an incredibly mature move, sticks out his tongue, and he's rewarded with a quiet laugh from Steve. "As I was saying, once you pass by the tree, I'll introduce you to Chiron, the activities director here. After that, we'll get cabin arrangements, measure you for armor and swords, and give a full tour. Of course, I'll be the one showing you around, which means you'll be getting the best possible version of the tour."

He waits for applause, but it never comes, and Eddie pouts at them. "Can't you be more excited? This is, like, the first time I've managed to bring back kids who aren't terrified."

"Oh boy," Dustin says, his voice high and fake, "I can't wait for Eddie to show us around Camp Half-Blood."

"Joke all you like, Henderson, I'm taking it as a compliment," Eddie says, darting forward and pushing down the bill of Dustin's cap. He moves back easily and claps his hands. "Okay! Step on through, please."

The kids all glance back at Steve, and he smiles encouragingly. As a group, they move past the perimeter of the tree until only Steve and El are left standing on the edge. Eddie flashes a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, it's gonna be great. El and the kids can meet more demigods their age, and you, Stevie, can relax since you won't have any monsters coming after you."

Steve nods and looks at El. "You ready?" he asks. She holds his hand even tighter--and Eddie is starting to worry about Steve's bones here--but nods.

Together, they step over the threshold.

Or, well, Steve does. El is stuck on the other side, Steve's hand still in hers but unable to pull her through. Her shoulders drop, and despite Steve's best efforts, she can't get an inch over the barrier that ripples between them. Resigned, she looks down at their hands, her grip starting to loosen some.

Eddie stares at this scene with wide eyes, and a few things suddenly make sense. No wonder Steve wouldn't say who El's godly parent is. She technically doesn't have one. The odd protectiveness makes a lot of sense now, too. And so does the way monsters would apparently move on like the gaggle of demigods was uninteresting.

"Well," Steve says, breaking Eddie out of his epiphany, "we gave it a shot."

With that, he steps back through the barrier, the rest of the kids quickly follow suit, and Eddie can feel them slipping through his fingers. "Wait!" he shouts, relieved when Steve looks up at him.

He's about to give El permission, to say everything is gonna be fine, to beg on his fucking knees if that will keep Steve--and the kids, of course--from walking away.

This is, of course, when the fucking armored and armed barrier patrol (a tradition that never really faded despite the camp's renewed safety) decides to show up.

Eddie just can't get a fucking break, huh?

-------

The moment arrows, swords, and spears (among other weapons) are aimed at them, Steve shoves the kids behind him. El sticks the closest, practically hugging his back, but he knows she'll pull away if it comes down to a fight. Steve twirls his bat, his eyes narrowed as he takes stock of his potential opponents.

The barrier shimmers between the two groups, a slight haze in his vision, and Eddie stands in the middle, one foot on each side of the barrier, looking a little frazzled. That's when a girl comes forward, her blonde hair pulled in a ponytail, a bow in hand, and her quiver slung over her shoulder. She smiles at Eddie, bright like the sun, and Steve feels a familiar-but-not kind of buzzing under his skin.

"Eddie! You're okay!" she shouts, dashing forward and hugging him tightly.

Steve's throat feels tight as Eddie hugs her back, his grip on the bat straining until he hears the reinforced wood groan and forces himself to loosen up. "Eddie," he says, a huge part of him relieved when Eddie immediately looks at him.

The girl looks between the two of them, and her eyes widen, and she smiles excitedly, and Steve suddenly feels a little better.

"Hello, I'm Chrissy," she says, walking over to stand across the barrier from Steve. "We got an alert that a monster was trying to cross, so we came to offer help. Everything looks fine, though, so come on through."

Steve feels El tug on the back of his shirt as the kids shift nervously. "We're good, actually," Lucas blurts out, unable to handle the silence.

Chrissy blinks, her smile still present but her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "You're...good?" she asks.

"Yeah," Steve says, licking his lips nervously, "I'm sure Camp Half-Blood is fun and all, but we can't stay."

"Why not? You'll be safer here."

Steve doesn't know how to answer that question, and El spares him the effort of trying to by saying, "I can't get through." He wants to spin around and grab her shoulders and ask what she's thinking, but it's El's choice to tell people, no matter how much Steve might disagree with her.

"Oh," Chrissy says, her smile dimming some before she brightens again. "Are you mortal? That's okay, we can just give you permission."

It's the perfect excuse, and Steve is ready to fucking run with it, but El shakes her head. "I'm not mortal," she says.

A heavy silence falls over the group on the other side of the barrier as the demigods understand what she means. "What kind of monster are you?" a boy asks, his hand twitching as though ready to reach for an arrow.

"Look, it doesn't matter," Steve says, a bad feeling forming in his gut. His nerves start buzzing on instinct, crackling and pulling at the clouds just a tiny bit. "We'll leave you alone and go our separate ways. You'll....you'll never see us again." And Steve can't help his voice softening, glancing at Eddie as he says that last part.

Because he wants to see Eddie again. He wants to learn about the literal spark they shared. He wants to know if Eddie's lips are soft or rough. But Steve always puts the kids first. Their safety comes before everything else, even himself.

"Wait! There's no need to go," Eddie says, holding his hands out to both sides but looking at Steve. "El isn't dangerous. We can still give her permission."

"Like Hades we are!" the same boy shouts.

"Jason!" Chrissy says, her tone hard as she whirls around.

Jason looks insulted and confused. "What are you yelling at me for? I'm not the one trying to bring a fucking monster into camp."

"She's not a monster! Stop saying that," Mike shouts, trying to push forward only for Steve to push him right back.

"Oh? Then what is she?" Jason asks.

"Her name is El," Steve says, his voice hard and unforgiving, "and she is my sister."

Several of the campers' eyes widen, and suddenly their bows are loaded and ready to shoot. "You brought two monsters to camp!" a girl shouts, glaring at Eddie.

Steve frowns, trying to control the building anger and wariness. Based on the slowly gathering clouds overhead, it's not working.

"Those things are dangerous," Jason says, his eyes narrowed. "I bet the rest are monsters in disguise, too."

"No!" Eddie shouts, "they got through the barrier."

"Oh? Prove it. Walk through right now."

The kids don't move an inch and neither does Steve. Chrissy turns back to them, an uncomfortable grimace tugging at her lips. "It would really help to diffuse things if you could just step over," she says softly.

"Not without El," Max says, glaring at the group.

"Or Steve," Lucas adds.

Despite everything, Steve can't help a wry smile and a joking, "Gee, thanks for thinking of me," thrown over his shoulder.

"Well, isn't that convenient," Jason sneers, "None of the monsters want to cross."

He pulls his bowstring back a little farther, and the clouds above them start to gather faster, tiny sparks jumping under Steve's hand on the bat. He grits his teeth, trying desperately to not get lost in anger, and takes a deep breath. "Listen, this obviously isn't going to work," he says, looking at Eddie. He smiles apologetically. "Thank you for trying, though. It was...a nice thought."

And then several things happen all at once.

Eddie's eyes widen, desperation seeps into them, and he shouts, "I give El permission to cross the barrier!"

El starts to move around Steve like she wants to talk to Chrissy herself, her beanie squirming obviously.

The rest of the kids behind Steve get caught up in El's movements and try to follow, pushing Steve forward a step and bumping El slightly to the side.

His annoyance flares, and dark clouds stretch above them with a quiet, nearly inaudible rumble of thunder.

Finally, an arrow is loosed from the group of demigods, and its path would have been true if not for the kids pushing Steve. Instead, it shoots El's beanie clear off her head and lands in the grass behind the kids, just barely missing Dustin and Will in the process.

Really, Steve can't be blamed for what happened next. Between El's snakes freaking out and the kids shouting and the arrow in the grass overpowering his vision, he really can't be blamed.

It's only understandable that he loses it, that his tenuous control fucking snaps.

A bellowing crack of thunder above them is the only warning the demigods get before a bolt of lightning strikes the ground right next to them. The sheer force of it creates a whole nearly two feet deep, knocking the demigods back a few feet as more bolts follow in its wake. Each one burns the ground where it strikes, and tiny fires feed on the grass.

Little arches of lightning jump across Steve's arms, his hair fluffing out slightly from the static. His chest is heaving from anger and electricity and the aftermath of so much tension finally breaking free as bolts corral the demigods into a tiny circle, striking all around them to prevent escape.

"Steve," El says, the sound of her grabbing his attention more than her words. But when Steve looks at her and sees the snakes on her head rubbing against each other and tasting the air and trying to stay as close to her scalp as possible, his anger flares again at the reminder of the arrow that could have killed his kids. Not only the arrow, but El's snakes could have hurt them, too. If not for the kids immediately squeezing their eyes shut, a few might be statues right now. Sure, it would wear off in a bit, and Steve is immune anyway since he's related to El, but it's fucking inconvenient and dangerous given the situation.

"Stay back," he growls, his words crackling with the lightning as he turns back to the demigods. They look scared shitless, and Steve hasn't even done anything yet. The only ones who haven't been corralled are Chrissy and Eddie, since neither of them actually did anything.

He steps forward, an arch of lightning stretching between his heel and the ground when he lifts his foot. The nails on his bat spark and glow red, looking nearly as angry as Steve feels. Steve crosses the barrier, feels it wash over him, and stops just on the other side. He smiles at the demigods, feral and unrestrained as a storm, and raises his hand to the sky.

Or he starts to only for his view to be blocked by brown hair in desperate need of a good shampoo and big brown eyes. Steve blinks, a tiny portion of his anger calming if only because he's looking at Eddie. "Move, Eds," he says.

"Stevie," Eddie whispers, his voice nearly drowned out by the rumbling thunder. So Steve pulls it back, forces it to quiet down so he can hear. "C’mon, sweetheart, there's no need to smite them. They've already peed themselves."

"They almost killed my kids," Steve says, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What would you do if you were me?"

"Well, I wouldn't look nearly as hot, for one," Eddie jokes, flashing a shaky smile.

"You're already plenty hot," Steve blurts, the shock of the words calming him down a tiny bit more. And, when he hears Lucas and Erica behind him complain as El thanks Will for retrieving her beanie, his anger finally soothes enough for lightning to stop striking the ground. The clouds are still hanging over them, though, and sparks still arch across his arms and through his hair.

Eddie's smile becomes a bit wider. "Seriously, sweetheart, there's no need," he promises. "I already gave El permission to enter. She can cross the barrier. Word will spread in camp that nobody can mess with her without getting their shit rocked by a very powerful son of Zeus. Don't you want to relax? Don't you want the kids to meet others like them? Don't you...don't you want to, you know, spend time together?"

Steve does want all of that. Especially that last one, because he's never been talked down from an unbridled, anger-fueled, lighting strike marathon this easily. Usually, the kids have to let him work through the anger and vent it all before he's back to normal.

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes to focus on calming down. When Eddie hesitantly takes his hand, Steve calms down even faster, and the sparks that pass between their palms are harmless. "That's it, Stevie," Eddie whispers as Steve's shoulders relax. "Besides, you can always beat Jason's ass at capture the flag later."

Steve can't help laughing at that, and he opens his eyes to see Eddie's smile. "Looking forward to it," he says, squeezing Eddie's hand. Then he looks over his shoulder at the kids. "Is everyone okay?" he asks.

The kids are all gathered around El, who has secured her beanie over her head. Unfortunately, the arrow made a larger hole than expected, and two of her snakes are poking their heads out, tongues flicking as they taste the air. They aren't strong enough on their own to actually turn anyone to stone, so none of the kids avoid looking at them.

"We are fine," El says with a tiny smile as she steps forward. Steve is about to tell her to be careful when she walks through the barrier without a problem.

The other kids follow, sticking close to El and then orbiting toward Steve and Eddie. "That was awesome!" Dustin shouts, his eyes bright as he looks at the scorch marks that create a circle around the demigods that haven't moved an inch.

"Yes, it was awesome," a voice says, old and wise and belonging to a centaur that has trotted over from the camp gates and comes to a stop before them. "Though, probably not in the way you mean, young one."

"Chiron, hey, how's it going?" Eddie asks, rubbing the back of his neck as he shifts to stand in front of Steve. "This, uh, was all a misunderstanding, really."

Chiron raises an eyebrow at Eddie, but Steve can see the twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "I see. Is that so, Chrissy?" he asks.

"Yeah, it is," Chrissy says, nodding once as she glances at Jason, "because Jason was trigger-happy and wouldn't let anyone talk."

"I see," Chiron says again, looking back at Steve and the kids behind him. "Well, I look forward to hearing all about it and getting to know our potential campers at the Big House. Over some snacks, perhaps?"

He seems nice enough, and something about Chiron just makes Steve feel confident that nothing will happen to the kids. At least, not for the next hour or so, and that's good enough. Still, he can't help pushing just to see the extent of Chiron's patience. "Even if my sister's mother is a gorgon?" he asks, watching Chiron closely.

"Am I correct in assuming her mother is Medusa?" Chiron asks.

"Yes," El says, answering for Steve as the two snakes poking through rub their heads on Steve's arm. "She's very nice."

Chiron seems to be holding back an amused smile at that, and he nods. "I'm sure," he says, nodding once. "Yes, you are still welcome, my dear. After all, our very own Eddie Munson has vouched for you."

Steve can feel the kids behind him relaxing, and he glances at Eddie to see the relieved smile on his face. "Okay then," he says, looking back at Chiron, "lead the way."

----

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And now, the quality meme you've all been waiting for

[lividstar]

愤怒的星星 ★ — COLLISION OF PARALLEL LINES.

៚ wc: 17.6k

៚ fluff, punk!hongjoong x fem!reader, slowburn, ot8 cameos, college au except idk if i did it right, mutual pining, first few parts are just flashbacks, opposites attract (kinda?) will probably be a 2-part series

៚ The thought of enjoying your Saturday morning however you please may initially seem exciting, but it can become as daunting as weekdays when you end up with tasks even on your supposed days off—which, in your case, is none other than buying a psychological thriller book for your roommate, who claims she needs it in order to share a "common interest" with the nerdy guy from her linguistics class she seems to be obsessed with. You already saw it coming when you opened your phone to find numerous missed calls from her, but what you didn't expect was a coincidental encounter with a guy who seems to have visited the bookstore for the same reason as you. It only took you two more no-longer-so-coincidental encounters for you to realize just how deep you’ve fallen into the bottomless pit.

You never really tend to realize just how much of an effect a certain person’s presence has on you until you start to crave more of it during the times you fail to feel it around.

The first time you saw him was when you were walking in and out of your local bookstore’s aisles, fingers brushing through the rows of books neatly arranged according to their genres. For how long you’ve been doing the exact same thing, you begin to forget just why and how exactly visiting the place managed to sneak itself in between your routine for the day.

Rewinding the day’s events so far so you could recall what exactly were you doing inside a bookstore standing in front of an aisle solely for the psychological thriller genre, you vividly remember your roommate calling you in the middle of your morning stroll at the park asking if you could stop by a nearby bookstore and buy her a book she apparently needs for “academic purposes.”

You were hesitant at first, thinking she was probably airing out a false reason. With the amount of times you’d come home to the sight of her deeply engrossed in a complex thriller movie, you’d assume she wanted the book solely due to her interests.

You ran your eyes through the columns once more, sighing in relief when you finally found the book your roommate wanted you to buy. You took your phone out to take a picture of it and send it to her for confirmation, but just as you were about to reach for it, another person whose presence you failed to notice until now did so as well, making your hands brush against each other after reaching for the same book stacked in the sixth row of the shelf.

You immediately looked to the side and managed to catch a glimpse of his eyes slightly widening, and so did he with yours. You remember being the first one to snap back to reality, taking a step back to face him while waving your arms off in front of your chest.

“You can take it,” you said, awkwardly chuckling as you gestured for him to take the book instead. You figured you’d just buy a copy of it online, or if you’re going to be free on some days this week, perhaps you’d stop by other bookstores. Your roommate didn’t specify when exactly she needed the book, anyway.

He mirrors your actions instead of reaching for the book, gently pulling down the left cord of his earphones—you thought it was a subtle gesture of bouncing your initiation of small talk back to you, so you let your attention get taken away as your ears perked up to listen to whatever the stranger had to say.

“It’s fine, i’m sure you’ll need that one more than I do,” he said, pointing to the book neither of you were considering taking with a gentle smile. “I’ve actually read it five times already—just thought a sixth reread was necessary earlier in the morning, so here I am now.” He chuckled, and only then did you manage to get a good look at him.

His hair had a striking resemblance to the burgundy patterned carpets of the bookstore, and from the looks of it, you were able to tell from a single glance that it definitely wasn’t the first time he’s ever dyed his hair. Black sunglasses remained sat atop his head, and his ears were decorated in multiple piercings. He wore a layered chain necklace, the silver material of the accessories shining as the lights by the roof reflected on it. A dark red leather jacket was hung lazily over his shoulders, showing the black tank top he wore underneath. He was wearing black, ripped baggy jeans, and it was adorned with chains attached to its waistline. His combat boots were of the same color, and the shoelace of the left foot was undone—you couldn’t tell if it was on purpose or if he simply didn’t notice. He wore silver rings on almost each of his fingers, and you were able to see that one of his nails was painted black when he adjusted one of his rings. It almost made you smile, but it wasn’t until he cleared his throat that you realized you’ve been staring at him for about a minute or two.

Your eyes widened in surprise, awkwardly chuckling as you did your best not to give him the wrong impression. “Sorry, I was just...” you trailed off, not knowing what horrible excuse you should use to drag yourself out of a potentially awkward encounter. “...just wondering why you’d want to read the same book six times straight.” Great, you certainly didn’t come off weird, but you definitely sounded rude.

Just as you were about to hurriedly mutter out an apology, the man’s stifled laugh immediately put a halt to your train of thought. “It sounds strange, doesn’t it? My friends have been asking me the same question for a while now, so this isn’t really surprising for me. See, this book has a lot of foreshadowing in it, so I think It’s nice to reread it every once in a while to see the points I’ve missed.” He shrugged his shoulders, making his leather jacket fall off smoothly on one side.

He noticed you struggling with thinking of what to respond, so he took it upon himself and steered the conversation away from himself and towards you. “What about you? what were you going to buy the book for?” he asked, and you were quick to answer—thankful for his initiative.

“Going to the bookstore wasn’t originally part of today’s schedule, but apparently my roommate couldn’t get any more lazier and asked me to stop by to purchase the book for her because she can’t do it herself.”

There was something about the way you expressed your frustration (although jokingly) with a deadpanning look on your face that almost made him want to laugh, and you could tell by the way he was visibly fighting against the corners of his lips that were twitching upwards.

“That’s tough,” he stated the obvious as he ran his jewelry adorned fingers through his burgundy hair—with the way you saw a line of sweat drip down by the side of his face, you knew you weren’t the only one who found the bookstore to be in a strangely warm temperature today.

You saw a few air conditioners here and there on the walls, and they were working perfectly fine earlier, so you assumed they were probably just malfunctioning. “Are the air conditioners going through a malfunction or something?” he voiced out your thoughts for you as he practically asked himself the question with the way it came out as a whisper while he was looking around.

You took your cardigan off, and only then did you notice the stark contrast between your choices of outfits. You were clad in a pink knitted cardigan your mother made by her own hands—she gave it to you as a present for Christmas a while ago, and underneath it was a white camisole top decorated with lace and a pink ribbon on its center—something you added yourself. You wore a long, white ruffled skirt, a piece of clothing you bought online two years ago when you and your online best friend agreed upon buying it together to wear it the moment you’ll finally get the chance to meet up. You stopped talking to each other a year ago, so you just started to wear it to your own liking. You chose to wear the pink doll shoes you found at a thrift store a week ago, and the cherry on top was the white ribbon hair clips you placed on either side of your hair.

“They were doing just fine when I first came in, so I guess it has something to do with technical issues.” You shrugged, and the man mirrored your actions yet again as he proceeded to fully take off his leather jacket as well.

Just as he parted his lips to say something, your phone suddenly rang, making both of you look at the device you didn’t even notice you were still holding in your hands until now. Staring right into your eyes was your roommate’s caller id on the phone screen, and for a second, you were debating whether to answer or not.

You decided to ignore the latter, figuring the call was made regarding the book. You apologetically smiled at the man first, gesturing to your phone as he returned your smile, urging you to go ahead as he mouths something about checking out other sections of the book store so you could have some privacy.

Once he was out of the frame, you didn’t hesitate to press the green button, bringing the phone up to your ears. “Before I proceed to say anything, I need you to answer a question of mine first. Do you think you’re capable of committing murder today?” She asked from the other end of the line, making your brows furrow as you scoffed in both confusion and disbelief at the sudden confusion. “Am I what?”

“Please just say yes or no,” she said in a hurried tone. “No... why? Did something bad happen over there?” She chuckled nervously as you heard the shuffling of bedsheets, assuming she was either rolling around her bed or sitting up.

“No, but... you see, about the book I asked for you to buy... remember that guy from my linguistics class I told you about last weekend?” You were confused about where the conversation was heading, yet hummed in confirmation anyway. “I do. What about him?”

“Okay, so, thanks to my... connections, I found out just now that he owns an annotated physical copy of the book, and, if you’re already catching my drift...” she trailed off, yet the moment she heard your sigh from your end, she was quick to regain composure and stumble over her words.

“I’m sorry! I’m really sorry! I wouldn’t have sneaked the task in between your schedule if I had known beforehand—I just really don’t want to waste the opportunity of a potential connection between us... and, I mean, well, yeah, I should’ve done it by myself to begin with, but I wasn’t really thinking straight earlier in the morning so I—” you cut her off by ending the call, heading straight to your messages as you scrolled down to look for her contact number.

The sound of your nails clicking on the phone screen echoed across the empty aisle as you typed, “Go shoot your shot. Don’t stress it out, alright? Just make sure this won’t happen again. Love you :)” With a sigh, you turned your phone off and put it back inside your bag. You were happy for your roommate, yet at the same time, you couldn’t help but feel like you just wasted a portion of your day.

Exiting the aisle, your thoughts went back to the man you were just engaging in small talk with a few minutes ago, eyes darting around the bookstore to search for him. You didn’t see which direction he went when he left, already having your back turned against him the moment you heard his fading footsteps.

The man sitting by the register who seemed to be around the same age as you noticed you and was quick to call for your attention. “Are you looking for the redhead, miss?” And for a second, you were slightly embarrassed, but it was the truth, anyway, so you found yourself nodding wordlessly. “He already left a minute ago.”

Hearing those words come out of his mouth, you almost let a disappointed sigh slip out of your lips, but you were quick to cover it up. “I see. Thanks for telling me,” you said, flashing him a polite smile as he gave you his own.

Figuring there was no longer any purpose for you to stay inside the bookstore any longer, you headed to the exist, the clinking of the bells on top of the doors ringing in your ears as you swung it open, putting your cardigan back on when the cold temperature of the city hit your skin like a speeding truck. Only then did you realize you didn’t even get to ask for his name, and since then, he hadn’t left your mind for the rest of the day.

The next time wasn’t any different. You were taking a stroll at the park for a much-needed unwinding after taking your exams. Kids were running around and chasing each other by the grassy fields, couples were being all cute and cuddly as they sat by the benches, and some elderly people were walking around much like how you were, admiring the beautiful sceneries unfolding in front of their very own eyes.

Your pink dress was being carried away by the soft breeze, making it flow as you took one step after another. Thankfully, you chose to wear a long dress for the day, so you didn’t have to worry about any potential wardrobe malfunctions.

From a near distance, you saw a little boy standing by the grass fields pointing towards you. His voice was a little loud, so you managed to hear what he was saying to the two men he was with. “Wooyoung-hyung, look! A princess!”

The little boy’s comment caught you off guard, making you look the other way as you pretended not to hear the words he was saying, which were hard to ignore due to how loud he was speaking. “Kyungmin, she’s not a princess, and you can’t just point to strangers like that!”

The man who you assumed to be his older brother lightly scolded him, and for a second, you were debating between playing along with the child’s wide imagination—it wasn’t his fault for thinking you were a princess as he was still young, after all, or fleeing from the park so his attention would be directed to something else so his brother would stop scolding him. “But she is a princess! Seonghwa-hyung, you see it too, right?” The other man with them was probably a friend of the little boy’s brother.

“Well, Kyungmin, she might look like one, but she isn’t—” the man you assumed to be Seonghwa stopped in between his words all of a sudden, and the next thing you knew was the little boy was standing right in front of you, tugging on your dress that was still flowing due to the wind.

“Kyungmin!” Both men yelled his name in unison, but he ignored them, his attention fully focused on you instead. “Miss pretty lady! You’re a princess, right? Right?” He looked up at you with a smile, and once again, you found yourself ignoring the latter between your choices of how to handle the situation.

You sat down so you could see each other eye to eye, a fond smile spreading across your face as you let out a soft laugh. “You think I’m a princess?” You tilted your head, making him let out a gasp of disbelief. “But you are! Wooyoung-hyung and Seonghwa-hyung won’t believe me, but I know you are! Right?” he asked for confirmation again, making you laugh once more as you rested your hands on the area of your chest where your heart was.

“Well… I think it depends on what you want to believe. I won’t tell you whether I’m a princess or not, but if you think I am, then so be it. What you believe in is what matters the most, and not what anyone else does, don’t you think?”

You figured talking some wisdom into a boy who’s probably still in kindergarten wasn’t exactly the best way to handle the situation, but it’s not like you knew better ways. Seeing his smile grow even wider after hearing your words, though, was enough to let you know you handled it just fine. “So you are a princess! I knew it!” Okay, well, that was definitely not the reaction you were going for, but at least he’s happy, right?

“You should tell them that, too!” He pointed to where his brother and his friend stood, but this time, there were three of them, and the one standing in the middle was definitely not an unfamiliar face to you contrary to the two who stood by his side. You certainly couldn’t have been mistaken—especially not when you saw his burgundy hair.

Your eyes met briefly, yours widened and his completely normal, save for the fond gaze you assumed was probably directed to the little boy in front of you. He probably didn’t even recognize you at all. “Come with me, miss pretty lady! You should meet them so they’ll be proven wrong,” he said, reaching for your arm as he took a step towards where the three men stood.

When you didn’t budge from where you crouched at all, he looked back at you with a confused expression on his face. “What’s the matter, miss pretty lady?”

You chuckled awkwardly as you stood up, looking down at him. “They’re waiting for you, not me. Go on now, don’t keep them waiting. I’m sure you’ve proven them wrong already, anyway,” you said, using your free hand to take his off your wrist. “Are you sure? I…”

“Kyungmin!” His older brother called out his name once more, making his head turn to where they were all standing, patiently waiting for the little boy to go back to them. “See? You should go.” You ushered, making him look back and forth between you and his brother and his friends for about a few seconds.

“Well… okay, then.” The frown on his face was a huge contrast to the huge smile he once had a few seconds ago, and you were quick to do whatever you could to bring it back.

“Hey, don’t be sad, alright? It’s always better to spend days like this with a smile on your face,” you said, smiling at him fondly. “Will I get to see you again?” The sudden question put you at a loss for words, and you spent a good couple of seconds thinking of how to respond correctly.

“Neither of us know the answer to that, but if you ever see me again, I promise I’ll let you introduce me to your brother and his friends, okay?” It was definitely not the right thing to say, but it was certainly what the boy wanted to hear.

With the smile on his face returning, he waved at you enthusiastically, running back to the three men who have been waiting for him for quite a while now. He approached them with a cheerful expression on his face, and you watched them slowly start to smile as well while the little boy told them about his interaction with you.

Unbeknownst to you, your attention was unconsciously directed towards the burgundy haired man who was now exchanging laughter with his friends while the little boy was still going on about his story. This time, he was wearing a see-through black jacket with a beige compression long-sleeve shirt underneath, partnered with baggy denim jeans that were secured by a black belt with embellishments. His ears had less piercings this time, and so were the amount of necklaces he wore. His boots were the same as the ones you saw him wear when you first met him, and his fingers were still adorned with multiple accessories. You could tell he opted for a casual look today, yet he still looked as cool as ever. Perhaps it was due to the vibe he carries with him, and not just his choices of clothing itself. There’s still a huge contrast between your outfits.

The little boy didn’t mention his name when he was talking to you earlier, and that was the only thing you were disappointed about with your heartwarming interaction with him. You’d probably look strange if you were to approach them, yet it proved to be impossible either way as they now had their backs faced towards you, walking away as they continued their conversation. Luck really hasn’t been on your side lately. You wonder when it will be.

Three weeks later, and you’re now walking through the halls in search of your roommate. Thirty minutes ago, she sent you a message, telling you to meet her on the third floor. She didn’t really tell you why, and it drove you off the edge more than it should’ve—one thing you’ve always disliked was when people would ask you to meet up for an unspecified reason, or even worse, message you by texting you only your name and your name alone without telling you what’s the matter beforehand. So now, here you were, eyes searching the halls in hopes of finding a familiar face.

“Hey!” A familiar voice called out a few steps behind where you stood, making you immediately look back. Sighing in relief as you recognized who it was, your roommate made her way towards you, pushing past the small portion of people crowding the halls. “Sorry for asking to meet up all of a sudden—I know you hate it when I do this, but I promise this is the last time!” So was last week, you said in your thoughts.

“What’s this about, anyway? And it better not be about your crush from your linguistics class because I swear—” She cuts you off with an apologetic chuckle, making you sigh in disappointment. “Nope, I’m not doing it.”

Just as you were about to walk away, she held your arm to keep you steady in your place, desperately pleading as she shook your arm repeatedly. “Please, please just hear me out! I promise I’ll leave you alone after this!” No way in hell you would, you thought once again.

Still, you chose to hear her out anyway. Sure, she may be annoying at times—especially when it comes to her undying crush on the boy from her linguistics class, but you can’t really deny the fact that you hold a soft spot for her deep within. When it wasn’t about her man who technically isn’t her man but you’re sure will be her man one day, she was really fun to be around. She was loud and outgoing, a huge contrast to your calm and collected personality, and as different as you both may be, you feel the most comfortable around her compared to anyone and everyone else. Whenever she’d notice you were feeling down, she wouldn’t hesitate to speedrun to the nearest convenience store by where you both lived, buy you your favorite food even during the times her pockets are begging for her to leave them alone for once, and put on your favorite movie once she comes back.

So then, you now find yourself heading towards the library to look for yet another book her crush has apparently been frequently visiting the library for lately. You figured you should hire whoever’s airing all this information to her as your detective one day, if it ever came to it.

Apparently, the book is a tale as old as time, so he couldn’t really find a copy of it anywhere, hence why he chooses to visit the library on a daily basis to read it. Your roommate thought sharing the same interests with him would be a great way to deepen her “connection” with him—if they even had one to begin with, considering how the only bridge between both of them was the annotated book she borrowed from him—which she still hasn’t returned—and that was pretty much all of it. She claims she’s too shy to approach him, and maybe that’s why.

You found yourself standing in between two tall bookshelves once again, the situation being somewhat familiar to you in a way that almost made you laugh. This time, though, the air conditioners were working just fine, and you weren’t accompanied by a presence other than your own.

Your eyes search through the books neatly stacked in the shelves, squinting and inching closer to get a better view in case you accidentally miss the book you’re looking for. There was a blank space in between two books, and for a moment, you assume the book had already been borrowed by your roommate’s crush, or maybe someone else.

You were about to message your roommate to tell her about it, until you heard some shuffling from the other side of the shelf you were facing, drawing a confused expression on your face. You heard from one of your colleagues that the librarian was way too strict for everyone’s liking, so students would mostly stop by the library just to borrow a book, but never to actually stay.

Which student was brave enough to actually stop by the library to read? Wouldn’t they be at least a little scared to be yelled at to shut up over the smallest of things such as breathing like how a normally functioning person should?

Peeking through the empty space in between the books to see who it was, your eyes widened comically as you recognized the person solely from their hands resting on the table alone. The sight of a singularly colored nail and layers of rings and bracelets couldn’t have been more familiar to you.

But what was he doing here? His hair was half blonde and half black, though, so you were contemplating whether your assumptions about his identity were correct or not, but you knew there was only one way to find out—and it certainly wasn’t peeking through a bookshelf like a creep.

Exiting the aisle—a familiar experience once again, you slowly walked towards the table while rethinking your life decisions, wondering if you should just leave him alone and mind your own business. You were on the brink of considering it, but it wasn’t until you recognized what he was reading.

It was the book your roommate asked you to borrow from the library, and it was certainly the one meant to be placed in the blank space by the aisle you were searching through just now.

Your mind was racing with questions pleading to be answered—the first ones being, Who the hell is this man? Why do I keep seeing him around? Why did no one ever tell me he goes to the same university as I do? And what is his name?

You figured there couldn’t have been a better time for your questions to be answered other than now, and even if you were gambling with the possibilities of him either recognizing you or not feeling any sense of familiarity with you at all, you couldn’t really care less right now.

“Hey,” you were hesitant, making your voice come off as soft and barely above a whisper—and it certainly wasn’t due to your fear of being scolded by the librarian. The man shot up and immediately turned his head around, and as he stared at you with those eyes of his, you knew your assumptions regarding his identity were correct, after all.

For about a second or two, all he did was stare at you with a blank expression on his face, and you swore you were about to let the ground swallow you whole right there and then. But for the next second, his face softens as he flashes you a toothy grin, and the words that soon followed after it caught you completely off guard. “It’s you.” It’s you?

What on Earth could he have possibly meant by that? Does that mean he recognized you when his friend’s little brother was talking to you within a fair distance from where he and his friends stood by the park, after all? Does that mean he remembers? “I was starting to think I’d stop seeing you around. Turns out we’re closer than I thought we would be.” Okay, what?

“What?” You voice out your thoughts by accident, tilting your head in confusion as all he did in return was smile at you once more. “Third time’s the charm, after all, isn’t it?” He closes the book laid out in front of him on the table, pulling out the chair beside him, tapping on it as he gestured for you to take a seat.

You do so wordlessly, awkwardly fiddling with a loose stitch of your white knitted sweater adorned with baby pink strawberry patterns. How come you’ve never seen him around? With a face as strikingly beautiful as his, you’re sure you would’ve already noticed him long ago—or maybe you were just looking at the wrong places all along.

“He still thinks you’re a princess, you know.” He rests his elbow on the table, placing his chin on his hand as he looks at you with a smile. “Who?”

“Kyungmin—the little boy from the park, remember?” That was all it took for you to put two and two together and realize what he was talking about, making you let out a hum of realization, nodding soon after. “He hasn’t stopped talking to us about it, especially Wooyoung, since he’s his older brother and he’s pretty much the only one out of all of us who keeps on breaking his little bubble of imagination.”

The conversation flowed through more smoothly than you expected a few seconds ago, and the next thing you knew was you were stifling a chuckle, careful not to drive the librarian mad—actually, was she even still around right now? He was practically speaking in a normal tone and not in hushed whispers, so he should’ve been told off by now already. But he isn’t.

“It was a little hard trying to convince him to go back to you and your friends, honestly…” you said, rubbing the back of your neck as he chuckled at your response.

“Kids and their imaginations never fail to impress me. You know, when we went to the park again last night, he kept crying because he couldn’t see you anywhere. He said you promised you’d let him introduce you to us once you both meet each other again, so he was really upset. It was adorable, though.”

You found yourself smiling as you imagined the little boy crying in the arms of his brother due to not seeing you around, this time being the one chuckling.

“I didn’t mean to leave him hanging off by my words… I hope it wasn’t too much for your friend to handle his tantrums,” you said, smiling apologetically. He waves his arms off in front of his chest—another action appearing to be somehow familiar to you. “Don’t feel bad about it. Pretty sure Wooyoung’s used to it by now,” he responded, shrugging afterwards. He was right, the boy was his friend’s younger brother, after all.

Finding both yourselves at a loss for another topic to discuss, you opted for the first thing that came up in your head. “You changed your hair color,” you stated the obvious, rushing over to make a follow-up statement in order not to look stupid, “it suits you.”

But only after voicing it out did you realize that perhaps maybe leaving your first statement as it is would’ve been a better option. Unbeknownst to you, heat immediately flushed through his cheeks, but he was quick to cover it up, making you fail to notice the way your words made his breath hitch for a slight second. “You think so?”

“W-Well, yeah. Burgundy looked just as great, though.” It was a huge lie, though. Sure, burgundy looked good on him and suited his style pretty well, but a split-dyed hair look is always a hit or miss.

For him to make it look this good, though, definitely proved to you that it’s a hit—a rare one. Even so, you were just glad you managed to save yourself from embarrassment, playing off the fact that you literally just complimented a stranger.

But with the way you’ve been thinking of him ever since you first touched each other’s hands by accident at the bookstore, was he really still a mere stranger to you at this point?

He found himself smiling at your comment, fiddling with the rings on his fingers like how you were doing with your sweater just a while ago. “Thanks, I definitely needed to hear that.” With his response, you looked at him in confusion, subtly asking for context. He was quick to catch on, bracing himself for a little bit of a story time.

“My roommates have been flaming me ever since I came home with the red dye all gone, asking me if my hairstylist ran out of bleach in the middle of the process. They’ve been teasing me about how my scalp is probably begging to be freed by the shackles of my stylist at this point, too.” You then ended up thinking about it as well. Just how many times has this man changed his hair color by now?

“Wanna take a guess?” You didn’t need further explanation from him in order to know what he was talking about, as you’ve already been pondering about it anyway.

“I’ll say… five times, maybe?” If the correct answer was to go way past that, you think you’ll end up having the same thoughts as his roommates by the end of the day. “I hate to be the bearer of the bad news, but the answer’s very far from that.” Oh.

Seeing the flabbergasted expression on your face, he laughed loudly, and only then were your suspicions about the librarian no longer being around confirmed. If she was, he’d be thrown out the window by now. “Surprising, isn’t it? I don’t know how my scalp is still holding out well until now, either.” He shrugged, and about a couple of seconds after, you ended up joining him on his fit of laughter as well.

“I gotta say, though, that’s really impressive. Anyone else would be bald by now,” you said, making him laugh once more with how you voiced out your thoughts in such a serious tone. His laughter died down after a little while, eyes now staring right into yours. “What brings you here, though?” He finally brought it up, making you wordlessly point to the closed book in front of where he sat by the table.

“Take a guess. It’s not any different from last time,” you said, and he was quick to piece your words together. “Your roommate?” You nodded, mimicking his actions as you rested your chin on your hands like how he did earlier.

Right now, he was lazily slouched on the chair, one arm of his placed on the table as the other was resting on his thigh. He seemed to be comfortable. Only then did you manage to look at him completely from head to toe.

The contrast between your choices of clothing remained the same as ever, so you weren’t really surprised at this point. For you, beneath your white knitted sweater was a pink lace camisole top, paired with a short, pink frilly skirt. Along with your pink doll shoes—one that was different from what you wore when you went to the bookstore a while ago, was a pair of knee-length lace socks with pink ribbons resting atop its garter. And lastly, for your hairstyle, you decided to go for a simpler look today, with half of it tied up and adorned with a large pink ribbon hair clip.

For him, you noticed he looked simpler than how he’d usually style himself. But then again, you’ve only ever seen him twice before today, so you were not one to talk. He wore an oversized black shirt with a simple red graphic design in front, and it was tucked in his black denim cargo jeans that were held up by an equally simple black belt, partnered up with glossy black boots that were shining every time he’d move his feet around due to the lights by the roof of the library reflecting on its shiny surface. He was only wearing one necklace today, but as always, his hands were clad in multiple accessories. A cap, which you assumed he was probably wearing earlier before you found him, remained sat on his lap. When he ran his right hand through his hair, the sleeve of his oversized shirt went down a little, giving you the chance to catch a glimpse of his tattoo that says, “NO 1 LIKE ME.”

Once again, you failed to see the corners of his lips twitching upward when he noticed your eyes raking over his form, eyes twinkling in amusement. You’ve only seen each other thrice, but for each time that you did, something that would never overlook his attention was the way you’d always examine his clothing. It was cute, though. And it’s not like he doesn’t do the exact same thing every time as well, anyway.

His smirk disappeared as quick as the speed of light the moment your eyes met his, making you avert your gaze immediately. It’s not like you were uncomfortable, but rather because his eyes just hold such an intense aura within them that never fails to make you feel intimidated—in a good way, you assume.

“You know,” you began to speak, although still refusing to meet his eyes, “I still don’t know what your name is, and we’ve crossed paths three times already…” Due to the lack of a response from him, you were quick to assume you were probably overstepping a few lines.

What if he doesn’t really want your connection with each other to go way past two people who coincidentally see each other in the most random circumstances and places? What if he liked things better this way—you not knowing his name, and him not knowing yours?

But your thoughts dissolved into nothingness the moment he finally spoke up, his voice a little softer than you could recall as he says, “Kim Hongjoong.” Of course his name is just as beautiful as he is. Were you really surprised at this point?

“Kim Hongjoong,” you let his name roll off your tongue, and something you failed to notice yet again due to how you were still refusing to face him was the way his breath hitched—again. “What about you?”

He was quick to come up with a question to ask in order to keep his composure, head tilting ever so slightly, secretly anticipating for you to turn your head towards him again. And it seems luck chose to be on his side today, with the way you did exactly what he wished for you to.

“Me?” You asked, and he nodded. “Yeah, you.” You were hesitant at first—once you and Hongjoong finally exchange your names with each other, there’s no guarantee of which direction your affiliation with him would lead to.

Sure, you may have been overanalyzing things a little—maybe he’s just asking for your name with the hopes of being friends, but even so, you couldn’t help but wonder where you were both headed, because even if you were only a potential friend to him, he certainly wasn’t one for you.

You knew the risks of dating way before you even first entered college two years ago. If anyone were to wish for a relationship, the best periods of time to do so would either be in high school or adulthood. High school’s for the cheesy moments, the sneakily exchanged glances during class, the chasing each other by the fields, the heartfelt confessions during prom night. You’d break up with each other over something childish yet would be serious if you were to be at the age of a high school student, and you’d forget all about it the moment you step into your college life.

Getting into a relationship once you have grown into an adult would be the best option out of all, because as we grow older, we learn more things about life each day. Relationships during high school are ruined pretty easily usually because of how both parties aren’t emotionally mature enough to handle conflicts, and such an occurrence can be easily avoided if you’re both functioning adults with a better perspective on most things in life. It’d certainly be more mature compared to the aforementioned.

But relationships during college aren’t exactly the brightest of all. College students are around the ages where all you’d ever want is to mess around and have fun no matter the cost knowing you’ll barely ever get the chance to do so once you step into adulthood. So, with that being said, relationships being taken seriously by college students isn’t really a common occurrence. They live to fuck around and find out, and that’s all that’s there to it. You’ve seen girls getting their hearts shattered left and right by stupid men who seem to only think with their hormones, and you know how bad it gets.

From struggling to balance their studies and relationships to completely losing focus on their goals because apparently a conventionally attractive yet emotionally unintelligent man is worth crying over more than great examination results were, all you know about college relationships is that it either plays out surprisingly well and lasts long, or it could initiate the beginning of your downfall for years on end. You swore you’d never try it out, afraid to end up being part of the latter.

But as hard as relationships during college seem, resisting your undeniable attraction towards the man sitting in front of you also proved to be just as difficult with the way all you could think about at the very moment was how those soft hands of his clicking on the table while patiently awaiting your response would feel against your skin. It wasn’t much of a surprise for you, anyway—you knew you were doomed the moment your eyes first met his in an empty aisle and you ended up staring at him longer than you should’ve.

You knew there was no point in considering the pros and cons of deepening your connection with someone who wasn’t meant to play a role of just a friend and nothing more in your life—and might I add, someone you’re heavily crushing on yet would rather jump off a cliff than admit it to yourself and accept the terms, knowing even if he asked for your name that day at the park or that one time in the bookstore, you would’ve given him what he wanted with zero hesitation anyway.

And so you do.

He proceeded to mirror your actions from earlier, rolling your name out of his tongue—and you swear your name hasn’t sounded so beautiful until now. “That’s a beautiful name you’ve got,” he starts, and when you finally gained enough courage to turn your head to the side and meet his eyes, you were met with that toothy grin of his you didn’t seem to be able to get enough of, “it suits you pretty well.”

“Oh, I—” You weren’t sure whether to be thankful for your friend for saving you from embarrassing yourself over not knowing how to react to Hongjoong’s unprovoked compliment, or to completely loathe her for cutting in between your conversation with him once again.

You’ve been getting deja vu over the parallels between everything that’s been happening right now that has already happened before although under a different situation way too often it’s actually starting to make your head hurt.

The loud ringing of your phone echoed around the empty library, and once again, you found yourself contemplating between pressing the green button or the red one. But not this time, no. You figured she’s probably calling to ask you whether you’ve borrowed the old book from the library yet, and that’s a question you were capable of answering either through text or personally, so you clicked on the red button, hearing Hongjoong let out a confused hum. “Why’d you decline?”

Because I’m feeling selfish right now and couldn’t care less about my roommate and her linguistics crush, especially not when you’re sitting right in front of me looking so breathtakingly beautiful like you’re an angel from an art museum that came to life and escaped to taste the wonders of life, was what was begging to escape from the pit of your mouth, “It’s probably about the book, so I’ll just talk to her in person later,” was all that came out.

And with the way he looked at you as if he was waiting for you to say something else, you knew he knew of your thoughts. Thankfully, he was kind enough not to bring it up. Or he probably didn’t notice at all. Truth be told, you’re hoping the latter was the case.

“What’s up with your roommate and books, anyway?” He asked curiously, although you could tell there was a hint of playfulness with the way he spoke. “You mean what’s up with her crush from her linguistics class and books?” You shrugged, holding back your laughter when you noticed his eyebrows shoot upward ever so slightly with his mouth agape.

“Oh. So that’s what it’s about, huh?” You let out an exasperated sigh, faking a frustrated expression as you responded, “Unfortunately so.”

Classes had already ended a few minutes ago, but students were still allowed to stay in the library afterwards—at first, you thought the implemented policy was stupid at first, seeing how literally no one ever visits the library, but now, you find yourself being grateful for it.

You both sat beside each other as silence surrounded both of you, but it wasn’t the kind of silence that would drive you on the edge and make you hurriedly think of what you should do or say in order to dissipate the looming tension, no. The silence between you and Hongjoong was comfortable. He wasn’t demanding you to speak, and neither were you. But just as the silence was starting to grow deeper, you were drowning in an ocean of your own thoughts again—specifically, thoughts about Hongjoong.

You weren’t sure when it happened or if you were the one who moved or if it was him, but the distance between both of you was now smaller than how it was a few minutes ago—you were sitting so close beside each other you’d occasionally feel the fabric of his jeans brush against your thigh whenever either of you would move. Since he was now closer, the scent of his cedarwood perfume engulfed you completely. You thought it made perfect sense for someone like him to favor such a scent—it suits him pretty well.

Every now and then, you’d steal a few glances from your peripheral vision while he remains engrossed in his phone, chewing the inside of your cheek whenever you’d find yourself wondering what it would feel like to rest your head on those shoulders of his. You were wondering what it feels like to rest your head on those shoulders of his?

And since you’re way too focused on not making yourself too obvious, you, as usual, fail to notice him doing the exact same thing as well. He was scrolling on his phone, sure, but in reality, he wasn’t even reading any of the posts that were appearing on his feed, way too focused on the way your eyelashes would flutter so beautifully whenever you’d blink.

The awkward smile you gave him when you first met each other in the bookstore is an image he had taken a mental photograph of, the memory still lingering in the back of his head clearly. The first thing he noticed about you that day was the way almost all of the pieces of clothing you wore were adorned in ribbons, as it reminded him of himself, in a way.

But instead of ribbons, anyone could find more than a handful of silver chains attached to almost everything in his closet. You seemed to love wearing knitted sweaters and cardigans, much like how half of his wardrobe consisted of leather jackets in varying designs and colors, though most of them were black, just like how most of yours were pink. It’s amusing to him how you two were so similar yet so different all the same.

The day he went to the park with Wooyoung, Seonghwa, and Wooyoung’s little brother, Kyungmin, he wasn’t really any different from you. You’d never know of it much like the other way around, but even when he went to the park with the same purpose you had, he couldn’t get you off his mind. It was as if his mind was the shore, and you were the waves of the ocean constantly pushing forward after being pulled away by the tides.

So, when he came back to where Seonghwa and Wooyoung were after separating himself from them for a while to look for less crowded areas of the park they could go to, to say he was surprised to see you talking to Kyungmin would be nothing short of a huge understatement.

“What’s Kyungmin doing over there?” he asked Seonghwa and Wooyoung, to which one only laughed at while the other sighed. “He kept on insisting that the girl he’s talking to right now is a princess and wouldn’t let me hear the end of it when I told him she isn’t. Then he ran off, and the next thing we both knew was he’s already tugging on her dress.” Hongjoong’s gaze went back to you, who was now crouching to face Kyungmin eye to eye.

It wasn’t exactly like he could blame the little boy for thinking that way—you did look like a princess, especially with the beautiful dress you chose to wore that day, and not to mention, the natural look of your face he was sure people under the influence—and even those who aren’t—would mistaken as one that belongs to an angel gracing the Earth with her presence.

He couldn’t believe his very own eyes that day. When he left you by yourself when you had to answer a phone call in the bookstore, he was originally supposed to head back to the aisle you were at after checking out the other sections that seemed interesting enough to grab his attention, but just as he was about to, another one of his friends (a.k.a roommates) along with Seonghwa and Wooyoung, Mingi, messaged him, telling him to come home as soon as possible because Yunho burnt the kitchen while trying to remake a recipe he saw on his feed.

At first, he thought they were just messing around with him—a normal occurrence, at this point, but it wasn’t until Yeosang sent a video of the kitchen actually burning to their group chat. Hongjoong could no longer afford to go through all the five stages of grief looking for an apartment that would suffice for eight people, so he immediately left the bookstore and ran faster than the speed of light.

Just as he was about to cross the street the moment the lights for vehicles turned red, he started contemplating between quickly heading back to the bookstore just to bid you farewell or just heading straight to his apartment building. His phone vibrated once again, and his lockscreen was being flooded by notifications of his roommates spamming his DMs, most of them coming from Jongho and San. Only then did the answer become clear to him.

Fortunately, he was able to fix the fifth problem his roommates have created for the week on time, immediately proceeding to scold all of them, save for Seonghwa who just got home from buying groceries and was now cleaning up the kitchen. For a fleeting moment, his mind drifts back to you, making him scold the six men even more than he should’ve, not-so-slightly upset over the fact that they timed burning the kitchen perfectly right when Hongjoong was just about to head back to you and continue your conversation.

Later that night, they were messaging one another one by one privately, each of them all saying the same thing: “It wasn’t really that deep. What got him so riled up?” But not even Hongjoong himself knew the answer to the question he never knew they were thinking of.

He thought he wasn’t going to see you again, and it never failed to make him feel confused whenever he found himself being a little too disappointed over it. So, when he saw you again—talking to his friend’s little brother, if anything, he was at a loss for both words and thoughts. The moment Kyungmin pointed to where he, Wooyoung, and Seonghwa stood, your eyes met for a fleeting second, and with the way he saw your eyes widen ever so slightly, he felt a little too happy over you recognizing him, so he did the first thing he thought of—trying to look as unbothered as possible even though his heart was literally spinning around, begging to be freed.

He failed to realize how smiling at you would’ve been a better option until he saw the way the corners of your lips went downwards ever so slightly upon seeing the look on his face, and before he could even clear things up by waving at you or literally anything to make sure you know he knows you, your gaze was already back on Kyungmin, and by the looks of it, you didn’t seem like you wanted to look his way yet again. To be fair, neither would he.

And as usual, he still couldn’t get you off his mind that day—though this time, it was worse, especially with the realization over the fact that he could’ve walked up to you yet didn’t dawning over him. He was beyond frustrated, to say the least. So, so frustrated he couldn’t even sleep.

Figuring his emotions were way too all over the place for him to be able to fall into a deep slumber, he sat up with a groan, stumbling over with his steps as he went to the living room, finding Yunho sitting by himself on the couch while watching a film that seemed to be a coming of age romance movie.

“What are you all up and about for?” Hongjoong walked around the couch, sitting beside Yunho as the cushion underneath him sank. “I could ask you the same question, you know,” Yunho responded, not even sparing Hongjoong a glance, obviously way too focused on the movie playing on the television screen in front of him.

“Just frustrated over some things.” Hongjoong leaned against the couch, sighing as he initiated a staring contest with the ceiling. With this, Yunho was quick to reach for the remote, pausing the movie before shuffling around so he could face Hongjoong while sitting down. “What’s the matter?”

“Do you ever think about something so often it starts to make you feel frustrated?” His question had Yunho pondering for about a while, making him think about it thoroughly.

“Depends on what this “something” we’re talking about is. I’m pretty sure that would mean two different things, depending on whether it’s “something” or “someone,” so which one of the two is it?” Hongjoong was hoping Yunho wouldn’t bring it up, but oh well. If he’s screwed, then he’s screwed.

All he had to do was stare right into Yunho’s eyes, hoping he’d put two and two together—and luckily, he did. “Since when?” Yunho was surprised, given how Hongjoong isn’t exactly the type of person who’d let himself be bothered by such things. Still, he wanted Hongjoong to tell him all about it, thankful he trusts him enough to do so.

“I don’t know, honestly. We just met by coincidence in the bookstore a few blocks away about a few weeks ago, and I haven’t been able to go through a single day without my head being filled with thousands of thoughts ever since then.”

“By coincidence?” Yunho tilted his head, and Hongjoong was quick to rewind and tell him all about it. After Hongjoong was done telling him about how it started and how it’s going so far, Yunho found himself smiling, already knowing what was up with Hongjoong, while he himself was still left in the dark.

He resorted to convincing Hongjoong to get up and do all the work himself so he’d be the one to come to terms about his feelings first-hand. “You know, nothing’s gonna happen if you keep on refusing to make a move. You can’t just expect your paths to cross once again if you’ve been staying at the same spot for days on end.”

And that was when he messaged Wooyoung privately once he was back in his room, asking if he was free to hang out for the upcoming day and if he wouldn’t mind tagging Kyungmin along with him. You’ll never know he was the reason behind Kyungmin’s second visit to the park, and part of him thinks things will be better off that way.

However, both of you were going through your own predicaments unconsciously. Until now, you still don’t know why you’re thinking of resting your head on his shoulder, and in his case, he still doesn’t know why on Earth he actually debated between bidding you farewell or saving his apartment from its impending doom.

It didn’t help how you weren’t really one to open up to people, so you were left all alone trying to fix the tangled wires inside your head, unlike Hongjoong, who was blessed enough by the gods to have a friend like Yunho. Still, despite being provided moral support and advice, he wasn’t any less oblivious to his feelings than you were.

“What’s it like?” You asked all of a sudden, surprising both Hongjoong and yourself. Much to your surprise, though, Hongjoong let the blooming conversation flow freely as he said in response, “What do you mean?” You shrugged, fiddling with yet another loose stitch of your sweater—you figured you’d definitely have to fix it up once you get home later.

“You know… having a lot of roommates.” You weren’t sure why you were asking about his roommates when you could’ve asked a question about him instead, yet you were blissfully unaware of the fact that Hongjoong was more than happy to hear you ask about his roommates—his best friends.

“It’s fun on most days, yet it’s also very frustrating sometimes. Living with seven people doesn’t exactly sound like the best experience when you’re living in an apartment that can barely fit all of you—even more when more than half of us have proven themselves deserving to be banned from the kitchen.” You laughed at his words, his laughter soon following after, watching you attempting to wind down your voice with a toothy grin on his face. “Why’s that?” You managed to ask in between your stifled laughs.

“Remember when we first met?” How could you ever forget? “Yeah, what about it?” You tilted your head, wondering what your first encounter had to do with Hongjoong’s roommates burning their kitchen. “While you were on a phone call with someone, I was in the middle of checking out the other sections, but just as I was about to head back to where you were, they spammed our group chat with messages, each of them telling me to head back home as soon as possible. Wanna guess why?”

“Please don’t tell me someone actually set the kitchen on fire.” Hongjoong only laughed in response, shaking his head. “Unfortunately.” Your eyes widened slightly, scoffing in disbelief. “You’re lying, aren’t you?” This time, it was now Hongjoong’s turn to look at you in utter disbelief, making you think he was actually offended over you not believing his story for a split second.

“Don’t wanna believe me? Here,” he said, showing you the video waiting to be played on his phone screen as he gestured for you to press the button yourself. As the video started playing, a look of shock spread all over your face as you watched the fire get worse as the video progressed, hearing screams from people whom you could only assume were his roommates.

Someone draped a towel over the flames, hurriedly stepping back when his solution turned out to be an additional problem with the way the fire grew even more. “Mingi, are you fucking stupid?! Take that towel back!” to which the man named Mingi responded with, “No way in hell! San, you do it!” followed by another, “Don’t drag me into the consequences of your stupidity!”

You heard someone from the background yell Hongjoong’s name, and as the camera was turned towards where the sound came from, you were met with the sight of a man who you recognized as Wooyoung hiding behind someone who seemed to be way too calm considering the fact that the kitchen was literally being set on fire—he was even eating an apple, if anything. The video switched to the front camera, revealing a man who, this time, seemed to look too happy despite the fire unfolding right behind him, and he even had the guts to giggle and wave to the camera.

Needless to say, you were left speechless, and the video wasn’t even halfway finished yet. You pressed his screen to pause the video, being met with the sight of him contemplating whether to laugh over the memorable (strangely enough) moment or to let his grudges come crawling back at him.

Looking at the expression on his face, you couldn’t help but laugh, your voice echoing around the quiet halls of the library. “So that’s what living with seven people looks like…” With the way you spoke, Hongjoong was unsure whether you meant it in a good way or not—and if he were to be honest, that’s exactly what made your reaction even more amusing.

“That’s also why I wasn’t able to come back to the aisle after looking around. Sorry,” he apologized, sheepishly rubbing his nape. You were quicker than a millisecond to dismiss his apology, shaking your head as you reassured him that it’s fine and a while has passed ever since that day anyway so you don’t really mind anymore. You had that awkward smile on your face again, and Hongjoong had to put every fiber in him to use in order to hold himself back from just melting right there and then.

Suddenly, your phone rang yet again, cutting your conversation with Hongjoong short. Assuming it was your roommate calling you, you were about to decline the call, but it wasn’t until you read the contact number’s nickname and realized it was your mother calling you and not your roommate.

You were quick to tidy yourself and hung your pink crocheted crossbody bag over your shoulder, reaching for the book that was resting in front of Hongjoong by the table, retracting your hand for a split second when you realized you hadn’t even told him yet that the book your roommate wanted you to borrow from the library was the one he was reading before you approached him.

He looked up at you from his seat, tilting his head. “You need it?” he asked, making you nod. “If you don’t mind, of course, it’s just—” Hongjoong waved you off, gesturing for you to take it, swearing he doesn’t mind at all. Just as you reached for the book once more, his hand rested on its cover at the same time, pushing it towards your direction. It didn’t take you longer than a second to realize your hands were on top of his. Your phone has stopped ringing, and the sound has now been replaced with your thundering heartbeat.

You were the first one to break the contact, taking your hand off his. Too focused on trying to look calm—you have no idea why having composure seems to turn itself into an almost unattainable challenge whenever Hongjoong was around—you fail to notice the way a hint of disappointment flashed on his eyes with you taking your hand off so soon, and it disappeared as quick as it showed up when you reached for the book once more the moment his hand was no longer sitting atop of it.

“I, um, have to go,” you stumbled over your words as you shoved the book inside your bag, “I’ll… see you around?” You sounded way too hopeful for your liking, but before you could take your words back and replace it with something more neutral, Hongjoong beat you to it by grinning at you widely, nodding at your words. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll see you around.”

But he doesn’t, and neither do you.

Three weeks have passed, and the increasing amount of his library visits were starting to become more noticeable to the seven men Hongjoong shared his apartment with through every passing day. They all went to the same university, so they knew just how annoyingly cruel the campus librarian was, which made things even harder to piece together for them. Hongjoong had also spoken up once about how much he hates the librarian during one of their drinking games when he was under the influence, so his frequent visits at the library were really confusing—save for one person who had an idea what the reason behind it was.

“You’ve noticed it too, haven’t you?” Mingi tilted his head at San who sat across from him, enthusiastically munching on the desserts he ordered while taking a few sips of his coffee in between—clearly, he didn’t hear Mingi’s question. “You’ve noticed it, right?” Mingi repeated his question, this time a little louder in hopes of getting an answer from San. His attempt proved to be successful as San finally looked up at him with a confused expression on his face. “Noticed what?”

“Oh, you know. Hongjoong and his sudden library star user transition,” he shrugged, and San let out a hum of realization after being given context. “Yeah, I have. What about it, though?” Mingi scoffed in disbelief, having a hunch that San was just playing dumb. “Come on, San. Don’t you think it’s strange? Because I do.” But the aforementioned man’s eyebrows only furrowed as he asked once again, “What is?”

“What isn’t strange about it? You know he hates the librarian just as much as we all do, right? Don’t you ever wonder what on Earth is he stopping by the library everyday for?” For a few seconds, the only thing San could do was stare at Mingi from across the table, mouth slightly agape as if he was trying to connect the dots inside his head. And then it clicks—finally. “Oh… Oh. I mean, now that you’ve mentioned it, it does seem a little weird.”

“Right? I asked Seonghwa last night if he knew anything about it, but he told me Hongjoong hasn’t brought up anything related to the library to him so far. I mean, sure, yeah, Hongjoong likes to read, so normally, it would make sense for him to visit the library every now and then—but everyday? Is he reading a compilation of the terms and conditions of every existing app?”

“You may be overanalyzing a little, don’t you think?” A familiar voice spoke up from behind San’s seat at the cafe, making him turn his head around as Mingi only had a smile on his face, already having seen the man enter the cafe before he even approached the two of them. “You know you can visit the library for more than one reason, right?” He gestured for San to move aside, opting to sit beside him as both of them were now facing Mingi, who sat on the opposite side of the table.

“And what would those other reasons be?” Both Mingi and San asked in unison. “I don’t know, maybe the usual things that happen when you’re a college student on the brink of graduation with an eye for attractive people?” Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Yunho, what the hell are you even talking about right now?”

Yunho rolled his eyes, leaning against the cushion of the sofa he sat on. “Think it through, Mingi. Hongjoong wouldn’t even dare to consider visiting the library everyday, had he not been developing feelings for a certain person he often sees there.” Both Mingi and San knew Hongjoong as someone who wasn’t quite fond of the idea of anything romantic, but it’s not like they knew what Yunho knew, anyway, so they resorted to laughing Yunho’s words off.

“You’re not onto something, Yunho,” Mingi began, and San continued his words, saying, “you’re on something.”

“Are you seriously accusing me of being high on a Saturday afternoon? Being high, if anything?” Yunho stared at the two men who were now proudly laughing over their joke in disbelief, frowning when he realized they didn’t even plan on taking his words with a grain of salt. “And are you seriously trying to get us to consider your idea of Hongjoong being hit by Cupid all of a sudden?”

“It’s not an idea, San. Just—would you just listen to at least a goddamn word I’ll be saying?” Yunho ran his hand through his hair, and only then did Mingi and San stop with their antics. Moments of Yunho being upset were extremely uncommon, and whenever it would happen, all of them would always fail to hear the end of it. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry. Where did your theory come from, anyway?”

“For the second time now, it’s not a theory. It’s a possibility loosely based on a conversation Hongjoong and I had a few weeks ago while you were all asleep.”

“So… a theory?”

“God, no!”

“It is, though.” San backed up Mingi, making him pat his back with a grateful expression on his face. “See? He gets me.” Yunho only responded by rolling his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief. “It doesn’t matter whether it’s a theory or not—just hear me out, please.” San could tell Yunho was growing tired of their shenanigans, so he was quick to lock in and get serious. “Shoot.”

“It was around three in the morning already, and I was in the living room watching a movie. Hongjoong suddenly came out of his room and sat beside me, and he asked me a question I wouldn’t have expected to come from him. He asked me if I’ve ever thought of something so often to the point where it drives me frustrated, and based on the look on his face that night, I assumed his answer would’ve been yes if I asked him the question instead and not the other way around. I told him it depends on whether it’s a “something” or a “someone,” and he gave me a look that non-verbally told me it was the latter in his case.”

“So, to sum it all up, he likes someone who visits the library often?” Mingi asked, and Yunho shook his head. “From the looks of it, I’m pretty sure he’s waiting for a certain someone to visit the library everyday.”

“Why the library, though? And why would he have to do it everyday? Doesn’t that sound a little creepy? Or maybe that’s just me, but, I mean, there’s no way you don’t find it weird at all, Yunho,” San said, wondering why on Earth would Hongjoong have to visit the library everyday just to see whoever his crush was.

Yunho sighed, “That’s not exactly the case, you know.” Both Mingi and San’s attention were completely hooked once again, both of them leaning forward on the sides of the table they sat on, eager to listen to what Yunho was about to tell them.

“What I’m thinking is that Hongjoong probably last saw his crush in the library, and that whoever that person is went out of town—but Hongjoong doesn’t know, hence why he keeps on visiting the library everyday in hopes of seeing his crush again.”

“That’s… oddly specific,” Mingi gave Yunho a skeptical gaze, whereas San remained drowning in his own thoughts. “The fact that your theory is actually highly likely to be correct is what scares me,” San said, finally speaking up after a few seconds of silence.

“It’s not a—”

“Yeah, yeah, not a theory! We get it!”

It’s been three months, at most. You wanted nothing more but to leave your hometown and head back to your apartment—you never liked the suffocating feeling the walls of your mother’s household would always give you. You’re starting to miss hearing your roommate’s loud snoring in the brink of dawn, too. You wonder how she’s holding up—it’s not really your thing to keep in touch with people while you’re away as it only makes you miss them even more, and this is something you fortunately remembered at the last minute to tell her before you left.

Your mother had contacted you that time you were hanging out with Hongjoong in the library to tell you to head back to your household as she and her garbage of a boyfriend had scheduled a three month vacation for themselves, leaving you the responsibility to watch over their house while they go out and enjoy their lives to its fullest. How pathetic.

You vividly remember feeling your heart ache with flames while you had to fight back your tears while packing your things—trying so hard to convince your roommate—who you assumed by that time was probably hanging out with the guy from her linguistics class—that you were fine when she was on the other line of the call while you were informing her about your sudden vacation, even though it was painfully obvious you weren’t by the way your voice kept on trembling with every word you spoke.

It didn’t help that all you could think of while spacing out while waiting for the train you took to arrive at its destination was the way Hongjoong’s eyes widened ever so slightly when you placed your hands atop of his by accident, as well as the way he’d flash you that toothy grin of his every single time you’d find yourselves staring into each other’s eyes.

No, it really didn’t help. Especially considering the fact that you don’t even know why the hell you were thinking of him when you were supposed to be upset because of your parents. It really, really didn’t help how thinking of him ended up painting a small smile on your face that was quick to disappear the moment you snapped back into reality.

Yet here you are now, mindlessly staring outside the window of your childhood bedroom, watching the sun slowly fall into a deep slumber as you wonder what Hongjoong could have possibly been doing by the other side of the world. Part of you regrets not taking the old book you borrowed from the library with you, but at the end of the day, you borrowed it to help your roommate forge a connection with her crush, and not with your own, for heaven’s sake. Wait, what?

And then it hits you—he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know you’re out of town and will continue to be for three more days. You wonder if he thinks of you as much as you do of him. You wonder if he’s out there, waiting for you. You wonder if he wonders what you’re doing right now as well. You wonder if he’s concerned about you.

“Oh, God, I can’t do this anymore,” you buried your face in your hands in frustration, sighing heavily as you parted your fingers to glance at your phone placed by your bedside table. Its screen, although pitch black, felt as if it was glaring directly at you, taunting you to take it and just say “screw it” and break your no-contact-during-vacation rule.

And you did, in fact, say, “Screw it.”

Quickly scrolling through your contacts, you wasted no time and immediately dialed your roommate’s number, the constant ringing of your phone echoing around the almost empty surroundings of your bedroom. Most of the things you left here before moving out have already been thrown out, it seems.

“Oh my God!” The screeching of your roommate from the other end of the line made you jolt in surprise, hissing as you felt your ears ring due to how loud her voice was. “Is this real?! I thought you said you wouldn’t call me until you’re back here! What happened?! Is something wrong?! Are you okay?! ARE YOU—”

“Calm down! Do you want me to go deaf or something?” Your voice was as calm as ever, a stark contrast to hers. “Did you really miss me that bad?” Chuckling, you await her response, which arrived faster than a millisecond.

“Did I miss you? Did I miss you? You have no idea how quiet it has been in here ever since you left! I have no one to annoy and it’s slowly driving me insane…” she let out an exasperated sigh, making you laugh. “I’ll be taking that as a yes, then.”

Your roommate clears her throat, going back to the topic at hand. “Seriously, though, why’d you suddenly decide to break your no-contact rule? Are you alright?” Concern was evident in her voice, and it almost made you tear up. You failed to realize just how much you missed her until now.

“I’m still breathing, that’s for sure,” you joked, laughing after hearing her groan as she said, “Now’s not the time for your jokes! Did something bad happen over there?”

“No, not really, but… well, you know, I’m not supposed to come back until Friday this week, but I really don’t think I can stay here for any longer. I’m all alone because my mother and her boyfriend are out on a vacation, and I haven’t had anyone to talk to for the past few months I’m not used to waking up because of my alarm and not because of your loud snoring, you know?”

Truthfully, you really did miss her. But even if you knew she was not the only reason behind you desperately wanting to leave your hometown, you figured you’d have to tell her all about it another time—just not now.

“I can’t tell whether you meant that as a compliment or an insult…” she sighed, making you erupt in a fit of laughter. Darkness was now starting to consume your surroundings, with the moon all up and about. Your bedside lamp is now the only source of light your bedroom has. “Do me a favor and take it as both?”

“Haha, yeah, real funny. I really hate you, you know.” You could tell from the tone of her voice alone that she was rolling her eyes, making you laugh once more—she seriously had to stop, or else you were certain you were gonna have to go to sleep with an aching stomach. “I don’t think you do, though…”

“You know me too well,” she sighed, faking an exhausted tone. “Is there anything you wanna tell me about? Like, you know, literally anything? I feel like all we’ve ever been talking about lately is mister linguistics class who is my man but is technically not my man but will, one day, become my man… come to think of it, I don’t think you’ve ever talked to me about any of your crushes—”

You could still hear her voice through the speaker of your phone, but the moment her words entered your ears, they were all muffled—you were, once again, adrift in a sea of your own thoughts. In a way, she was right about the part where you never talk to her about anything regarding your romantic affiliations—but that’s precisely because you don’t even have one in the first place, and you swore to yourself you’d keep things that way until you graduate.

But right now, as your thoughts drift back to Hongjoong yet again—something that seems to have been happening way too often for your liking at this point, you weren’t so sure anymore.

“—Oh, you do like someone!” Beaming happily, she squealed like a little child winning a plushie from a claw machine for the first time, pulling you back up to the surface of reality. Surprised, you stumbled over your words, “W-What?”

“You suddenly grew quiet when I started talking about relationships, you know.” I did?

“If I were to guess, I’d say there’s a certain someone who came to your mind the moment I mentioned the word “crush” and brought up how you’ve always been so secretive with your dating life.” You could visualize the teasing smile on her face as she spoke, and it made you feel flustered. She was right, but were you really going to tell her that?

“So, who is it? Can I make a few guesses? Promise me you’ll bring a basket of candies home for me if I get it right!” It wasn’t exactly like you were doubting her—it was more on the fact that you, yourself, weren’t even sure if you actually harbor feelings for the only person in your mind right now. If you were to think about it, wouldn’t it be too soon to say you do?

Maybe it was the way he seemed to have an eye meant for seeing everything around him as diamonds in the rough—an eye able to see the best even in those already proven to be the worst. Maybe it was the way he has no fear of expressing himself freely—maybe you just admired that trait of his and wished to have it as your own. Maybe it was the way he’s always eager to thoroughly get to know the details of everything he crosses paths with—the way he reread a book five times just to look for the foreshadowed parts may sound a little silly to be used as an example, but it serves its purpose.

You don’t really know much about him, except for the fact that he lives with seven people whom you could tell he adored so much, and that he liked to design his own clothes. So for a split second, you begin to debate whether you do like him or if you just admire him as a person.

But it wasn’t until you were reminded of the way you felt sparks ignite all over your veins when his fingers first brushed past yours that day in the bookstore, the way you stared at him a little longer than you should’ve when you saw him at the park, the way you had to hold yourself back from unconsciously leaning your head on his shoulder that day in the library—maybe the way you felt about Hongjoong was a whole book itself, and you’d also have to reread it a few times to catch everything you’ve overlooked in the long run.

You may not know him at all, but right now, one thing was crystal clear to you—you wanted to.

“Do you know the…” A little uncertain at first, you trailed off, not knowing whether you should continue or not. But then again, running away wouldn’t draw you any closer to your destination. “... Do you know anyone named Kim Hongjoong?”

Silence engulfed both of you for at least ten seconds at most, until it was broken by yet another squeal of hers. “Are you for real?! The Kim Hongjoong?! You like him?! Oh my God! Wait, now that I’m thinking about it, aren’t you two, like, polar opposites, at most?”

If only she knew.

“I guess…? Why?” You decided to play along with her for now, eager to hear what she has to say. “You two would totally be the cutest couple of the whole campus! I mean, come on, think about it! He’s a punk, and you do ballet! Well, technically, you don’t, but I trust you enough to rest assured you get the reference, so…”

“You think so?” Truth be told, you could perfectly visualize the message she was trying to deliver. Subconsciously, a smile soon began to creep up on your face over the thought of you and Hongjoong walking together, the stark contrast between your styles and the way you carried yourselves being heavily obvious.

“Oh, I know so! Wait, though—when, where, why, and how did this even start? I can’t believe you’re actually telling me about your dating life now!” She beamed, but you were quick to tone her down. “Now…? I don’t even have any experience within the dating field,” you said, bracing yourself from the scream that was yet to come from her.

“I’m sorry, what?!” Yeah, called it. “You heard it right. I wasn’t hiding anything from you—there were never any secrets to be hidden to begin with.”

“So Hongjoong is your first boyfriend—” “—I think we’re skipping a few chapters here,” you immediately cut her off, turning her assumptions down as fast as you could. “What do you mean?”

“Well… remember when you asked me to buy that one psychological thriller book from our local bookstore there?” You started, continuing after hearing a hum from the other line. “That was when I first met him. He was going to buy the same book as well, but we reached for it at the same time, and, I don’t know, we kinda… talked? And…”

You continued on, starting from when you first met him to when you last saw him. At this point, you could no longer even count the amount of times she had squealed over the phone.

“Wait, so you mean to tell me you didn’t even exchange contacts before you left the library? And he doesn’t know why you left?!” You could tell she was frustrated—and to be fair, so were you. “Well, if I did, we’d be talking to each other right now, wouldn’t we?” You sighed.

“So that means it’s been three months since you… wait, hold on… three months? Like, actually?” You have no idea why she was asking for confirmation all of a sudden, yet you let out a hum of approval anyway. “So that’s why he’s been… oh my God! If you don’t come back as soon as you can, I swear!”

“Huh? Why would I need to?”

“Hongjoong’s been visiting the library everyday for three months straight now! It’s, like, one of the many things our whole campus gossips about everyday! It all makes sense now…” What?

“What?”

“I’m telling you, you need to come back before it’s too late and he loses hope!” You couldn’t help but laugh at how she seemed to be more passionate about the topic at hand than you yourself, but in a way, she also had a point. There’s no guarantee he’d continue to wait for you until you’re finally allowed to leave your mother’s household.

And that was all you needed to hear for you to immediately hang up and rummage through the clothes you packed with you for your vacation—you could hardly even call it such, but whatever. You have no idea why you’re in such a rush, but for the first time ever, you opted for a casual look: a white shirt with an oversized pink hoodie with a half-done zipper on top of it, paired with shorts that weren’t even visible due to the hoodie’s length. You quickly slipped on a pair of white socks and wore your pink converse afterwards, having to re-do the shoelaces about three times due to messing it up over and over again because of how you were in such a rush.

You didn’t even have time to stand in front of your mirror to see what you looked like—your mind was set on coming back to you and your roommate’s apartment as soon as you could.

For a minute, you were stuck in a debate between following what you had to or what you wanted to. You knew for sure that dire consequences were to wait ahead of you if you were to follow the latter, but you could no longer find it in you to care. You had to follow your heart.

Sighing under your breath, you finally got yourself to twist the doorknob open, being met with the cold breeze of the night. Perhaps it wasn’t the best decision to wear shorts, but it’s too late to reconsider things now, is it? Quickly locking the door with your keys in hand, you wasted no time in sprinting to the nearest train station, not wanting to waste the chance that laid itself upon you.

“Mind explaining what’s been going on with you lately?” Seonghwa asked, hands on either side for support as he leaned against the kitchen counter, eyes boring directly into Hongjoong, who was standing across him, too busy spacing out that Seonghwa was certain he didn’t hear anything at all.

“What?” Hongjoong’s voice was a little slurred, and one could easily tell he lacks sleep. “I said, do you mind explaining what’s been going on with you lately?” Seonghwa enunciated his words so Hongjoong could hear him better, only for the said man to respond with a chuckle.

“You really gotta stop overanalyzing everything around you, Seonghwa.” Yet the aforementioned man wasn’t having any of it. He knew very well of Hongjoong’s tendencies to deny his own struggles—even to himself, always refusing to admit he’s going through something even though it’s already crystal clear. Of course, Seonghwa and the rest knew to respect his boundaries and not pry further, but the circles under Hongjoong’s eyes were starting to grow darker, and he just couldn’t sit back and do nothing.

“I’m not buying your excuses this time, Hongjoong. Clearly, you’re forcing yourself to go through something all alone again.” Seonghwa sighed, brows furrowed in concern as he took in Hongjoong’s appearance.

“What? Like it’s the first time I’ve ever done so?” Hongjoong chuckled, although it was easy for Seonghwa to tell he was forcing it upon himself. “You know you can’t keep everything to yourself forever, right? They’re all worried about you, and so am I. Look, you don’t have to tell me all the details, okay? Just tell me what’s wrong.”

“How on Earth am I supposed to feel when someone tells me ‘see you around’ but then they proceed to literally disappear right after those words come out of their mouth? Wouldn’t you be downing a dozen shots in one streak too?” From the way Hongjoong spoke, it was clear that he was beyond frustrated. His words came out slurred and raspy, and even Seonghwa himself was surprised he understood what Hongjoong said.

Brows furrowed in confusion, Seonghwa leaned forward from the counter, clearly not knowing what the hell Hongjoong was talking about. “Woah, woah, alright, calm down. Where’d all this even come from?”

“It’s been three months—three months, Seonghwa. Disappearing without a word is one thing, but not showing up for three months is just absurd, isn’t it?” Hongjoong groaned, running his hands through his hair. Still confused, Seonghwa attempted to ask for a little more context. “Who are you even talking about?”

“Her, Seonghwa. The girl whose name I could’ve gotten sooner, had those stupid goons not decided to burn our kitchen. The girl Kyungmin mistook for a princess.”

Oh.

Oh.

So it all makes sense now. It now makes sense that Hongjoong scolded the rest of them for almost burning their apartment way too harshly than he normally would have. It now makes sense why he caught Hongjoong staring at the girl from the park longer than any other person would have. It now makes sense that—does this mean what Seonghwa thinks it does?

Hongjoong likes someone? The Hongjoong, who swore he’d never allow himself to get into a relationship yet again after a bad falling out with one of his exes a few years ago? The Hongjoong, if anything?

“Can I take a wild guess and assume she’s the reason behind your daily library visits?” Seonghwa asked carefully, not wanting to hit a wounded spot by accident. Hongjoong only sighed, “I wish she wasn’t. Really, really wish she wasn’t.”

“Why? Do you like her?”

Does he like you?

At first, Hongjoong refused to accept the terms. He knew very well of his promise to himself not to fall for anyone again, tired of experiencing the same hardships that came along with it over and over again. He knew he shouldn’t be thinking of you as often as he does. He knew he shouldn’t be letting you affect him in the simplest ways possible.

Yet here he was now.

“I tried to stop myself, you know. I really did. But I just—I couldn’t. I didn’t have it in me to forget about her just like that, even if she’s been gone for three months straight now and I don’t even know where she is.” Seonghwa could tell Hongjoong meant every word he said. It was still mildly surprising, but the words came out of his mouth so smoothly it was enough to tell Seonghwa he was really being genuine.

“I know I look stupid waiting like a dog in the library everyday, hoping I’d be met with her awkward smile when I turn my head towards the door whenever I hear it open, but I just—I can’t, you know? I can’t stop. Not when the last words we spoke to each other was about seeing each other around. I can’t help but wonder if I messed up unknowingly, somehow.”

Seonghwa’s gaze softened, stepping forward to gently caress Hongjoong’s shoulder in a comforting way. “Why not go on a midnight stroll? I think you really need one right now. I’ll make sure they won’t burn the kitchen again this time, okay?”

“You really know how to make me feel better, don’t you?” Hongjoong chuckled, looking upwards to prevent his tears from falling down. “I’m gonna need you to remember the fact that we’ve known each other since we were kids. Of course I’ll know that,” Seonghwa sarcastically said, although a smile was plastered on his face.

At this point, you were certain your legs were about to give up before you could even reach your apartment. The train you took had a major malfunction in the long run, but you didn’t have it in you to wait for 30 minutes until the train would start working again, so you did the only thing you could—run. Okay, that was most likely not the correct solution, but it wasn’t like you had any other choice. You need to head home at least before 8:30AM tomorrow, since that’s usually when your mother would call you to ask how you, or rather, her house, is doing.

You stopped between your tracks to catch your breath, hands on your knees as your chest heaved with exhaustion. You decided to walk for at least a few minutes for now so you could regain enough energy to start running again later on, knowing there was absolutely no way you’d be able to keep on sprinting without passing out in the middle of it.

You were walking on an empty road, the dim lamp posts and the convenience stores from a distance being your only sources of light. As you were peacefully admiring your quiet surroundings, you spotted a coastline from a fair distance besides the road, only about a few steps away. As you drew closer to where the waves of the ocean met the sand, you saw a figure from afar sitting on a boulder all by themselves.

Except it wasn’t just a figure.

Your heart started racing, eyes widening in surprise as you focused your gaze on the person’s hair—you couldn’t have been mistaken. You know exactly who that split-dyed hair belongs to.

Before you even knew it, your feet had a life of its own, running towards where the figure was sitting even though your legs were literally about to give up after running for half an hour without stopping.

“Hongjoong?”

He turned around almost right after you called out his name, eyes all puffy and widened in surprise, blinking repeatedly as if he was trying to process the fact that you were standing right in front of him.

“It’s you.”

You no longer even cared if your actions were way too straightforward, immediately engulfing him in a warm, tight embrace as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. “Hongjoong—I’m sorry, I just…” Your voice came out as nothing but trembling whispers blending it with the midnight breeze.

For at least a few seconds, all he did was stand still, not an ounce of his body reacting to your touch. Afraid he might not have been comfortable with what you were doing, you were quick to take a step back, removing your face from his neck.

Yet just as you were about to release the grip you held around his body, he was quick to wrap his arms around yours, this time being the one to embrace you tightly. Hongjoong’s arms envelop you, holding you tightly against him. The warmth of his body, the gentle rise and fall of his breath—it’s an entirely new feeling, yet it felt soothing all the same, as if this was where you were always meant to be.

You let yourself let loose in his embrace, feeling the tension and worry of the past three months slowly melt away. You close your eyes, savoring the moment as you bury your face in his shoulder. The subtle scent of his cedarwood cologne that you missed so much mixed with the salty sea air lingers in your senses, making you feel grounded and safe.

His chin rests on top of your head, and you can feel him take a deep breath, almost as if he’s trying to breathe you in and reassure himself that you’re really there. His embrace feels secure and protective, as though he’s shielding you from the heavy burdens of the world weighing upon you.

You notice his hesitation in the way his hands pause on your back, almost unsure of how to hold you at first. But eventually, after being allowed a little more seconds to familiarize himself with the feeling of your body resting against his, he started rubbing your back in soothing circles, making you feel lightheaded—as if all of your worries have slipped away with just a single touch.

He removes his chin from the top of your head, making you stare into his eyes with a teary gaze as he does so to yours as well. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you about it beforehand, I…” you trailed off, words getting stuck in the middle of your throat after feeling Hongjoong cup your face with his hands, “... It all happened so fast, I… my mother needed me home right away, and I just couldn’t say no to her… I wish I could’ve told you beforehand, but she only told me why she needed me home when I was already there, so I couldn’t…”

Hongjoong’s gaze softens as he listens to your words. He gives you a small, understanding nod, but you can still see the hint of hurt in his eyes—his dark circles were so visible, even under the dim light of the moon. He pauses for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, before speaking.

"I thought I might have done something wrong," he admits quietly, vulnerability evident with the way he spoke.. "I kept wondering if you were upset with me. It was... hard not knowing what happened.”

“When you left without a word, it felt like my world shifted,” Hongjoong begins. “We were in the library, and the last thing you said was you’ll see me around—but I didn't see you again. Not the next day, or the day after. I just kept going back, hoping you’d show up. It didn’t make sense—you were there, and then you were gone.”

“I started overthinking everything, replaying our conversations in my head. I wondered if I said something wrong or came on too strong, that maybe you didn’t want me to. I was scared that I might have scared you away somehow," he admits, and the way his voice trembled ever so slightly made your heart twist in pain.

“Hongjoong, I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to leave you wondering if you ever did something wrong—I didn’t like what happened just as much as you do. I just… it’s complicated…” Truth be told, it really was.

Still, Hongjoong nodded with a faint smile on his face, reassuring you that he understands.“I know it wasn’t intentional,” he said, caressing your face with his thumb. “The nights were the hardest. I’d lie awake wondering if you hated me or if I had done something to upset you.”

You reach up to caress his face with your hands as well, staring at him with eyes that hold a swirl of emotions. “God, no, it never had anything to do with you… I’m so sorry for disappearing like that," you say softly, your voice filled with a mixture of guilt and frustration. "I wish I could have told you what was happening, but my mother... she wasn’t easy to deal with.”

As you hold Hongjoong close, you sense there’s more he wants to share, but he seems to be holding back, seemingly at war with his own emotions. You give his hand a reassuring squeeze, encouraging him to express himself.

He lets out a heavy sigh, his expression a mix of longing and frustration. “I’ve been trying so hard to sort out how I feel about all of this,” he begins slowly. “I’ve been at war with my own thoughts ever since you left. Trying to keep my feelings under control, trying to convince myself it was just a worry for a friend. But it just… doesn’t add up.”

He pauses, running a hand through his hair, his gaze on a far distance. “Every day, I would tell myself I could keep it together, but I kept thinking about you so much, it was starting to drive me insane,” he admits, although a little hesitantly. “I tried to keep it down to just concern, but it wasn’t enough. My mind kept circling back to you, wondering where you were, if you were okay.”

His eyes meet yours again, making your breath hitch. “I’d go to the library every day, hoping to see you, hoping to hear your voice again. It was maddening, not knowing if you’d come back or if I’d lost you completely,” he sighs, as his grip on the skin of your waist becomes a little tighter. “I just couldn’t shake it off,” he continues, his voice quieting down.

“You were on my mind all the time, and the more I tried to ignore it, the more frustrated I became. I tried so hard to deny it, but...” he pauses, taking a deep breath, as if he’s steeling himself for what comes next.

“Oh, screw it all,” he finally mutters, as if giving in to his own feelings. “I love you, and I don’t think I can hold it back any longer.”

“You… What?” Your eyes widened in surprise, struggling to process Hongjoong’s words. Hongjoong only smiled at you in return, repeating his words, “I said I love you. I really, really do.”

“Hongjoong,” you begin softly, your voice carrying a hint of nervousness. Hearing his name slip out of your mouth sent his nerves going haywire—oh, how he missed the sound of it.

“When I had to leave so suddenly, it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. It was so difficult not being able to explain what happened or tell you how much you mean to me.” You pause, trying to find the right words.

“You know, I… I promised myself I wouldn’t let anyone in until I graduated," you confess, your voice being a little softer than it already was. “So when I first started catching feelings for you, I was in complete denial. I didn’t know how to handle it.” You look away for a moment, feeling embarrassed.

“It was a war with myself, one I never expected to fight," you continued. “I told myself it was just a phase, just a fleeting crush. I even thought maybe I was imagining things or confusing friendship with something more.”

You let out a small, nervous laugh, trying to hide the depth of your feelings. “I even tried to tell myself that you were just a good friend, that I was misinterpreting my own emotions,” you admit. “But the more I tried to distance myself from my feelings, the harder it became. My heart kept betraying me, reminding me how much I looked forward to seeing you again, how your smile could light up my whole day.”

Your tone grows quieter as you share your struggle. “I kept thinking, ‘This can’t be happening. Not now. I promised myself I wouldn’t fall for anyone,’” you say, vividly remembering the battle with your own feelings you once faced. “But every time I thought of you, it became harder to deny it. My heart wouldn’t let me forget you, and it drove me insane. Eventually, I lost control, and…”

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to face the reality of your feelings. “Now that I’m standing here with you, hearing you pour your heart out, I just… I can’t deny it anymore,” you admit. “I’ve fallen for you, Hongjoong, and I’m done pretending otherwise.”

And that was all it took for him to inch his face closer to yours, intertwining your lips with his. The kiss was nothing short of pent-up tension being released, and you could feel every part of your body being set aflame.

His hands wrap themselves around your waist, its grip on your skin tightening every now and then. Your hand traces his jawline, soon finding itself tangled in his hair while the other one balls the fabric of his shirt into your first, feeling yourself get even more lost in the moment with each passing second.

As the kiss intensifies, there’s a sense of exploration, as if both of you are savoring the taste and feel of each other’s lips for the first time. Hongjoong’s hands slide up your back, one hand finding the nape of your neck, his touch gentle yet firm as if he was using every single fiber within his body to hold himself back, sending a shiver down your spine.

You mirror his movements, one hand now resting on his shoulder while the other presses against his back, wanting to be as close as possible. The world around you fades away, leaving just the two of you lost in the moment.

As your lips finally part, you both find yourselves gazing into each other’s eyes as if both of you believe the other hung up the stars in the sky. “You know,” Hongjoong began to speak. “As grateful as I am that you’re back here with me now… I can’t help but wonder where on Earth you came from...”

“Can we please save that discussion for another time?”

🪞 — lividstar.

[idyllcy]

sincerely, never yours

word count: 4.8k

warnings: Inspired by TBOSAS, non explicit smut, master/pet theme

summary: in a room full of birds, there is something visibly off about you.

In the beginning of your life, if you were told that you'd get your life ripped to shreds by a boy from the richest area in the country, you would have laughed in their face. If someone told Tim that he would get his heart marred by some insignificant girl in the world, he would have sent them to the catacombs.

There is no such thing as fate.

You spend your days weaving your friends' hair, fingers working as you weave intricate patterns, voice soothing to their ears as you hum the folk songs passed on to you by your family, performers through and through. You keep your voice quiet as you sing, and you lower it further as a guard from the capitol strolls by, eyes narrowing at you as you avoid his eyes. He stares harder, brows furrowing, and eventually, you are grabbed by the chin as he laughs.

There is no one in the world who does not know the voice of a songbird.

Your family is known for their voices, yet no one lives past their youth. Fate plays the cruel trick of selection for the capitol to be sold as an entertainer, and fate plays the cruel trick of never protecting them from the diseases presented at every moment. You are not lucky. You will never be lucky. In this world, you will never be able to break the bonds of fate no matter how you try. The strings on your body will be pulled and you will be forced to perform for the rest of your days.

You are bound by the strings of fate.

And just by opening your mouth to sing, you will be tied up until there is no way out.

"The daughter of the songbird himself." He sneers. "What are you doing in the slums singing to the poor? You should be in a cage performing for the capitol just like your daddy."

"I don't know what you're talking about, sir. I'm an orphan." You flinch as he throws your head to the side, delivering a slap on your face. You can not let him take you. For if he does, you will never know the illusion of peace ever again.

"Hah. Lies." He sneers. "I'd recognize that poisonous voice at any point in time. Be thankful I didn't just take you like they did with your father. You can make this easy for you, or I can take you forcibly just like they did with your daddy."

"Sir. I really do not—"

He spits on your face. "Hard way it is."

You are yanked by the arm as a chain is clasped to your neck, and you are tazed, electricity shooting down your spine as your jaw drops in shock, the veins in your neck becoming prominent as you hold back a yell. You land on the ground as he holds you down by the head, and you grimace as the dust fills your lungs and grime digs into your hair, and you feel yourself get pulled back up, with another chain around your wrists, and you grimace as he shoves you with the tip of his gun into the car he arrived in, and you watch as your friend yells for you as you leave.

You mouth at her to stop, and you watch as she stays standing in place, even as the car rolls away, and you keep staring at her, even as her figure becomes nothing more than a spec of dust in your vision. You can not stop staring back at the past.

You arrive at the train station, and your chains are unlocked, stripped, washed, dolled up and dressed up. The maids ask you how you want to be dressed, and you ask if you are able to dress yourself. You do as they watch you, eyes on every movement of yours, and you watch as they rush over to help you lace up the corset to support your back. You stare at yourself in the mirror, and your lips are curled into a wretched grin.

An idea strikes your mind as you take notice of the treatment you are receiving.

They take you to the stage, and you cough twice as the judges step in, and you meet eyes with him.

Timothy Jackson Drake.

Ocean blue eyes and pitch-black hair, Tim is the embodiment of the elites in the capitol. Born of money, born of status, Tim Drake has everything the children on the street desire. You wonder if you could take advantage of him in some way. After all, it does make you excited to see if you could do what your father failed to do. Well, no point in crying over spoiled milk. It was only you now. It didn't matter if you had to seduce him with your body. You would pick a youngster over an old man any day of the year. Anything is better than the men in their seventies who bring home songbirds for the sole purpose of sexual release. Maybe Tim is naive enough to even love you. Though, it doesn't have to be him.

The thought of it alone makes your lips curl into a sweet smile, flashing it at him before you listen to their words.

You are to sing, and not stop singing until you are told that you can stop.

So you open your mouth, voice warm as honey, sweet to the ears, and you watch as your listeners descend into that same mania that everyone who listens to your voice does, and you stare into Tim's eyes as you sing, watching as that same sick of obsession that twisted onto the face of guard when he heard his voice mirror on Tim's face, and your lips curl into a sickening smile as you catch his attention. Your voice pulls your listeners underwater as they feel free, bubbling in the blue with their happiness, your voice there for their service.

There is no such thing as fate.

Yet, as fate pulls on you and drags you down to hell, you can try and fight it all you want.

You finally stop after one of the judges break free from your voice, and something is clasped around your neck as you land on the ground with a thud. You don't struggle, holding your head down as you listen to the judges whisper amongst themselves to see who should take you home, and you wonder if Tim likes you enough to fight against the elders. You wonder if he would win against those grimy old men who had seen your chest and decided that you would be a great bedwarmer. Well, if that were to happen, you would just have to sing a little harder. It isn't too hard to b—

Tim walks up to you when the judges leave him to take you home, and you blink up at him, doe-eyed, innocence leaking out every single pore of yours just so he can buy the act. You pray he trusts you. He brushes the hair from your face, cupping your cheek, eyes oddly gentle, and you recognize the psychotic glint in his eyes as one that used to rest in the eyes of your mother while growing up. So, you lean into his palm, eyes closing, pretending to enjoy his touch while it disgusts you to no end. You suppose he works.

The way Tim's thumb brushes your cheek convinces you that he's fallen for it.

"You'll be my songbird from now on." He explains, lips curling into a smile. "I'll treat you well as long as you obey, hm?"

You blink at him, lashes full, eyes convincing. "Alright."

Even your voice sounds like sin when you speak.

"My first order... do not speak unless permitted to." He smiles, showing all his teeth.

You nod.

Oh, such power

Tim adores it.

"Then," He whispers, pressing his lips to the corner of your mouth, "when I am receiving guests in twos or threes, you are never to sing to your full potential."

You bat your lashes at him in understanding.

"Finally, you have to keep the chain around your ankle at all times, hm?"

On the first night he brings you back, he has you in his bed at his mercy, listening to your voice as you mewl his name and chant it like a prayer, breathless whimpers and moans slipping past your lips as he uses you. His touches are gentle, and the words he whispers into your ear almost make you sure that he loves you, but he does not. It is painfully obvious he does not when you wake in an empty bed, but it makes no difference to you. You are his pet— to be abused, used, discarded. You are nothing but an object he holds temporary possession over, an object he will inevitably grow tired of one day, and the reminder is carved into your skin, a remembrance of your father who was used by your mother.

You are a lowlife half-blood.

That is all you ever will be.

But, you don't complain about Tim's treatment of you. Your fingers stay still as the maids apply a new set of press-ons to your nails, and you tilt your head for the maid to powder your face, and you sit on a silk-wrapped couch in Tim's study room, locked inside a human-sized glass cage as you sketch and sketch and sing and sing. You are not permitted to consume books out of a fear that you would learn rebellion, so you dabble in the arts, oil paint on your face, watercolors spilled all over the couch you sit on, fingers always busy with something. The chain on your ankle is barely noticeable.

You paint portraits of the servants that go in and out of Tim's study.

You paint portraits of your friends out of a fear that you will forget what they look like.

You paint portraits of the mysterious figure known as your father out of a wretched longing.

Your paintings are hung up around the mansion, pictures of people staring lifelessly staining the walls, but Tim pays no mind, asking if you would ever paint him one day. You do not answer him, blinking innocently instead. Tim finds it bothers him slightly, but not as much as he believes it does, and not as little as you think it does. You do not have much of an effect on him, and Tim believes that you never quite will. After all, the two of you are simply master-servant, servant-master.

However, you do find it strange that Tim never has you sing.

When he does, it is only when guests are over, and you are offered dinner in exchange. You almost fool yourself into believing he might have even taken a liking to you. You know that's not true, of course, and you find it funny that you would even entertain the thought. Though, that is not your problem— especially not when Tim has you dolled up for the first time since your arrival, telling you to sing nice and pretty for the elites of the capitol at Bruce Wayne's mansion. You have to prove that he has the best bird. It was simple.

You're paraded around to the rich of the capitol, and you perform in Bruce Wayne's manor as Tim's songbird, lips curled into a teasing smile as you play the act of a bird, voice ringing in everyone's ears as you smile sinfully at them. The song sends everyone to the waves, floating on the sea on a sunny day, the sand between their toes, the salt in their hair. The world spins in your palm slowly as your voice dances in the air, and you watch as Tim brags about you like one would about their pet, and you snicker. He is no idiot.

He knows you're acting, and you know he is.

It's really just a matter of who breaks first.

Tim tucks the loose strands of hair behind your ear as you bat your lashes prettily at him, lips pulled into a sweet smile. Even when you thank him and he tells you to save your voice for singing, the two of you are separated by a thinly clean web made of lies, two spiders on the string, waiting for the other to attack first for a reason to betray the other. The two of you dance on the strings, two, four, six, eight. And on the web of lies, the two of you hunt prey separately.

Tim is more than aware as to why you beg him to bring guests over, lips pulled into a gorgeous smile, and he brushes the hair from your face, pulling the feathers of decoration in your hair, agreeing happily— you are a symbol of his accomplishments, why wouldn't he show you off to all those men who can't have you? After all, even if they were to put their pretty hands on you like he does, their hands would only find themselves cut off. No one in the capitol has the time to arrest Tim. Not when his family was so powerful. Ah, what a symbol of status in such a corrupt world.

You stay next to his side the whole night, giggling and smiling as the men vie for your attention, kissing your hand and asking you for a dance as Tim keeps you securely by his side. You're sure he's just bubbling over with happiness over this display of power. Well, not that Tim particularly cares that you're the one attached to him. You suppose he's simply territorial over what belongs to him. You find no reason to answer any of the noblemen, especially not when Tim's first and only command for you was to not speak unless ordered to, and he had made no indication, so there was no reason for you to do so. Well, it didn't matter that much to you anyway.

You would prefer not to talk to them anyway.

At the end of the night, Tim whisks you away in the night, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your hand, to the palm of your hand, and then up your arm to your neck, down your chest to your legs, and the rest of the night is spent much like the first night you returned to his mansion. You wonder if having you all vulnerable before him gets him off. You wonder if he is so desperate for recognition that he will do anything for it. Maybe he is. Maybe he isn't. You most certainly don't know. Neither do you care. You are simply waiting for something to happen to you. Maybe that will give you the freedom you so desperately crave. Besides, what point is there in escaping now? You have everything in the mansion, and neither are you beat up like you were in the street.

No.

You should escape first and then figure it out.

You listen to everything Tim says, and eventually, the lock on your cage doesn't get locked, and you are no longer watched by every servant in the house, and you breathe a little better. But those are all simple things. You need to prove that you would be loyal to Tim for the rest of your days. You didn't know how to, but you were sure the occasion would arise.

After all, Tim had plenty of enemies.

The season changes as you spend more time in Tim's mansion, and you are extremely docile, staying still and listening to everything he says, obeying his every word. You sing when commanded, and you stay quiet at all other times. Even when Tim has the servants test you for your loyalty, you do not open your mouth or speak. That earns you the unlocking of the chain around your ankle in the cage on top of the open entrance. You suppose it's great that he is giving you so much more freedom now— even if it wasn't really true freedom. It's a start, you surmise.

Tim takes you to one final gala before you hear what you want to hear.

You are dressed simply, silk hugging your skin, lips curled upward in a gentle smile as Tim helps you onto the stage. He insists on helping you do everything. The room is slightly empty save for the few noblemen who have arrived, and Tim had scheduled you early purposefully to avoid singing in front of larger crowds. You were his diamond in the rough.

So, you open your mouth and sing, eyes stuck on Tim's as your voice swims in the air.

Then, in a twist of classic capitol fashion, someone rushes toward Tim, and you yell, voice ringing in the air as Tim catches your warning, stepping to the side as they are sent to eat shit. Your voice returns to normal as soon as Tim is safe, lips curled into a stunning smile as you wrap up the song with a bow. It was so simple. It was so easy.

Tim thanks you by telling you it was alright to sing as prettily as you can in front of his guests now.

You suppose he's proud to have you as a bird now.

You listen to Tim from your cage as he talks to the ministers in the room, sketching with the pencil and paper, eavesdropping on their conversation. Your cage door is wide open, and you stay on the divan lazily, smudging the graphite on your paper as your wrist brushes over it, and you frown. In the background, Tim discusses classic politics with his companions, and you do not pay too much attention to it. After all, it was not what you wanted to hear. You were waiting for one specific point of information.

"The seventh competition is being hosted soon." One of the men speaks up. "Will you have your bird participate?"

You turn your head at the word bird.

January is approaching, and the yearly bird competition is coming up. You wonder if Tim is too protective of you to let you join. Maybe if you ask him, he will let you. You are illiterate to him, so you will have to find another way to convince him. But you stare at Tim anyway, blinking, eyes wide, almost as if asking whether or not he was talking about you. You wonder if Tim would ever think about letting you join the competition. It would be too much, but it could also be not enough. It didn't matter. You wanted to join. If you won, you would be displayed as a trophy for Tim, and you're sure Tim is just dying to have that kind of title to his name.

"Not you, pretty bird." Tim smiles. "Songbirds in general."

You nod, going back to your sketch, the graphite staining your skin as you stare at Tim, eyes darting to his face and then the paper, tilting your head as you both listen and sketch. His brows are furrowed, you assume because you've been selected for competition, and you blink at Tim as he stares at you, his lips curled into a gentle smile. You wonder if he'll give in to the greed and send you on the stage. Maybe he will. He's always been the type to give you up in the bigger picture.

"Pretty bird." He calls, and you pause in sketching, looking up.

You tilt your head to have him continue.

"What are you sketching?"

You flip the paper up, showing Tim, and he throws his head back in laughter, manic, almost.

"M-mister Drake?"

Tim steps off of his seat, holding his hand out as you hand him the drawing, and he takes your lead-stained hand, pressing his lips to the back. "Thank you, pretty bird. I look dashing."

You smile, lips curled upward gently.

"Whistle for me, birdie." Tim hums.

You oblige, notes teasing as you do, and Tim observes the looks on the men's faces.

"My bird will be participating." He smiles.

Diamonds and rubies, emeralds and sapphires, you are adorned from head to toe with the prettiest of colors and finest of silks. You wear the prettiest of colors and the softest of clothes, and thorough check-ups on your body day and night. Your tongue is shoved out as they check the condition of your throat, and you are fed warm soups and liquids all day, making sure your hydration is proper, and you stare at yourself as you wince at the way the corset is tightened. Not too tight. Your instructor tells you. She's not a songbird.

The lights backstage make you dizzy, and you exhale in your dress, the corset a little too tight yet too loose. You despise the way you are dressed like some doll, lips curled into a genuine smile as the door opens behind you. It didn't matter. You were going to win this stupid competition and break out of this hell. You would be the first to break character, but you would drag Tim into hell with you before you'd let him have the last laugh. After all, you spent so long building up a relationship with him.

"Pretty bird." Tim hums, bringing you lunch. "How are you feeling?"

"Well, I'm a little anxious..." You bat your lashes slowly. "But I think I will do well."

"Of course you will." He smiles, holding the spoon to your mouth. "You always do. Just remember to come home, alright? You don't need to emerge victorious."

You offer him a smile in return.

He doesn't even care if you speak now.

Then, Tim says goodbye to you as you are sent to the backstage with the rest of the birds. It's really simple. You make small talk with some of them, and some of them don't even look healthy enough to perform, but you suppose it isn't something you should concern yourself with. There's something else that is going to come out as an issue. You can only hope no one notices it as quickly as you had.

In a room of birds, it becomes painfully obvious that there is something off about you.

The songbirds sing and spin in the air, voices dancing with the breeze in a field of grass, mouths open as they sing to the sky, hands thrown up with their body. The sky opens up as the sun shines on them, and you watch from backstage as everyone sounds the same. The songbirds are a dime in a dozen, the same sort of singing everyone has, their voices worshipping the sky as their wings are clipped by their masters, looking up into the light as they sing towards it. Their voices are the wind in the field and the breeze in the grass. Their voices are the farmer's companion, and Midas' secret that the barber had tried to hide in the wheat. Their voices are everywhere at all times.

When you sing, everyone is pulled downward, floating in a vast expanse of blue, clouds nowhere to be seen, your voice grounding them into the depths of the world, animals soaring above and below their vision. The moisture sticks to their skin, their hearts racing as they sink further and further into your voice, something so sickeningly sweet, something so saccharinely sinful. Your voice becomes very apparent when put against the other songbirds, and you wonder if anyone could catch you. Though, it wasn't as if the predator could be hunted by the prey in their natural habitat. You were used to singing like this. It was what made you stand out to begin with. It was what helped you seduce Tim from the start. It was painfully obvious.

When you emerge victorious, you glance at Tim, and you seem to understand something.

He had received the wrong script for the play.

Then, you're presented on a stage with the rest of the winning songbirds at a gala at the beginning of the year, the crows betting more and more money on who would out-sing the others, and you blink at Tim innocently, feigning confusion as you watch as he is told that you were selected for freedom, stuck with the rest of the contestants, a confused smile on your lips as you are dragged off and dressed in rags again, promptly tossed into a puzzle room with the other winning songbirds.

"Fellow birds! Welcome to your only chance at survival! Seven of you are selected, and only one of you will emerge victorious and leave your masters' homes as a free man! You know you want it, songbirds. Will you live in a cage forever?"

You suppose your cage is less of a cage and more... glass.

Right. Not that it matters anymore.

You are placed in a room with the rest of the winning songbirds, and you blink at the screen as notes are played and the birds sing. No one can mess this up. It was a fundamental of being a songbird, so there would have been no result. However, no one in the capitol really cares if their bird dies. So, when a false chord is displayed on the screen and the bird selected sings, the sound of a gun renders everyone stupid.

You watch as the first songbird is killed when they are unable to sing a note on command.

Their body drops to the floor lifelessly, and the other songbirds scream. Instead, you step closer to the body, craning your neck as you squat down to take a look at the wound. Then, you stare at the cameras in the corner of the room, get up, and lean into some random songbird, lips curled into a teasing smile.

"How trusting of me are you right now?" Your voice is but a whisper.

The songbird tells you nothing.

Then, you stare at the camera, smiling.

You hide your mouth. "The second door at the second trial of the game leads to a bottomless pit."

Tim watches you from the cameras, eyes sharp as he tries to read what you are mouthing— but it is to no avail. he is stuck sitting back in his seat instead, quietly praying that the trust you had placed in him was not for no reason. He had slipped you the correct answer for each trial, so there was no reason for you to pick the wrong answer in any of them if you valued your life. Though, it's not like he told you that both doors were the correct answer in the last trial. People often fought in order to enter the slide marked as the correct answer, and nine times out of ten, someone was killed in the last trial at the hands of a songbird. That was what made an elite in the capitol— the blood on your hands.

You lean away, and surely enough, when the second door emerges and everyone rushes into it, only you and the other songbird remain. You open the first door and then step through it, inviting them to follow you once you make sure it is safe, and the two of you are left with picking a slide. You nudge him to the wrong slide, and you step in front of the slide, turning to stare at him. There's a silence that hangs in the air, and for a second, the songbird thinks that you only let them survive because they were selected by you.

Which isn't true, obviously.

Since when have you chosen someone anyway?

Tim watches you from the screen, fingers relaxing, lips curled into a gentle smile.

See? He has no reason to worry.

You stare at the two doors before you, lips curled into a menacing smile, and you tell your partner to take the safe slide out of the game to take the crown of victor. You step to the wrong answer instead, and the elites in the room murmur amongst themselves at your act of disobedience. You stand behind the other songbird in the room as he sits in the seat at the only seat on the slide, checking to see if there are any mechanisms that could kill him. It was an act of compassion to one, but it was an act of betrayal to another. Tim supposes that he was the one who was fooled the whole time.

Tim's voice rings in the command room, his comrades holding him from the mic on the desk as you send your partner down the safe slide, watching as the latch closes for the safe door and you step before the wrong one, blinking slowly, lips curled into a cruel smile, turning your head for the camera, baring all your teeth.

And suddenly, Tim is reminded of the first time he met you.

"I had never picked you."

And you disappear.

It's a shame though. You never said you were a songbird.

[inlovewithgreta]

Sweet Thing — Alcina Dimitrescu x Fem!Reader

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Warnings: Praise, biting, marking, spit kink, drink play (red wine), thigh riding, blood kink, etc…

Word Count: 6.2k

© Do not copy, repost, or modify any of my works.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You were too focused on finishing the final touches of your dessert to notice the tall raven-haired woman glancing at you from across the room as you held your breath to ensure the icing along your cake was precise. Your bottom lip was tucked between your teeth as you examined your hard work with the intricate lines that formed the most beautiful pattern atop the cake.

It was one of the other maids birthday's and you took it upon yourself to help her celebrate as you and your fellow workers were the closest to the young maid as she had no family left. When you thought of the idea to make something special for her, you were surprised to hear from Alcina that she was allowing you to do such a task in her castle, as it was your place to care for her, and not anybody else, but the tall woman had her eye on you as you were the newest hire in the castle.

Although you had only been there for nearly a month, she noticed the way you were quick and efficient at your job. Rooms got cleaned without a speck of dust in sight, and she took note of the way your gentle hands moved her expensive decorations around, only to put them back in their exact position after they were thoroughly cleaned. You were never one to pry into Alcina's business unlike the other maids when one would suddenly go missing or there was a new bloody mess to clean after Alcina's daughters were done snacking. You kept to yourself, and that was something that intrigued her.

You knew of the Dimitrescu family's inhuman abilities but didn't dare ask questions out of respect, and with that, Alcina never laid a finger on you. . . That was, until a large pale hand found its way to your shoulder just as you had finished your task.

"Is it finally finished?" Alcina's sultry voice rang in your ears as she blew smoke past her lips from her lit cigarette that sat delicately in its elegant holder between her fingers.

"I think so—" You eyed the finished product, refusing to bring your eyes to the woman towering behind you as she slipped one of her black gloves off.

"Then I think it's time we taste it." Without hesitation, Alcina leans forward, her clothed breasts just barely touching the top of your head as she dips a slender finger into the frosting covering the cake, making you stand completely still in shock at both of her actions.

As Alcina brought her icing covered finger to her face, your head tilted up and eyes lingered on the way her darkened red lips wrapped around her pale finger before swallowing and contemplating for a moment.

"It's lacking a bit of. . . sweetness." She admitted with a frown.

"Oh– perhaps you need to wash it down with some wine! I've heard the other maid's talk about the wine cellar, I could go fetch–"

"No!" Alcina immediately cut you off, catching herself by surprise with her quick response.. "I mean. . ." She quickly looked around before catching sight of an unopened bottle of red wine to her left and picking it up to show you. "This will do just fine. Be a dear and grab two glasses for me." She pointed towards the glass cabinet that contained her favorite wine glasses, hoping to distract you from her fast response as she herself just realized why she was quick to begin with. You mentioned the wine cellar. There were things that happened down there that she didn't want your innocent eyes to see. There was a reason why the Dimitescu family was always in need of a new maid, but for some reason, the second you walked through her grand doors, there was something that stopped her from wanting to harm you, and it was at this moment that she realized she had a special liking to you, and she couldn't control her wandering thoughts any longer.

"Two glasses?" You eyed her curiously.

"For the two of us, of course. I thought you could use a break, unless you'd rather go back to cleaning–"

"Two glasses coming up!"

Alcina held back a smirk as she took a step back, allowing space for you to move freely around her and nab two glasses from the wooden cupboard.

"Where would you like me to serve you, Lady Alcina?"

"What have I said about the formalities, darling?" She tilted her head slightly.

"To call you by your given name. My apologies, Alcina." You bowed your head in respect.

"You're too sweet for your own good. . ." Her gaze immediately softened as she tilted your head back up with the point of her finger under your chin. "That's why you're my favorite." She smiled for the first time at you, and you felt your cheeks heat up at her words. "Now come, it's been a long day and I can't stand another moment in these infuriating heels." Alcina dropped her finger from your chin and clutched onto the wine bottle as she aimed for the door. Due to her height, Alcina had to bend forward to step under the doorframe, completely filling your view with the curvature of her lower body as her rear end was at eye level as she bent her way into the next room with you just behind her, a slight blush creeping onto your face when you noticed your lingering gaze on the woman's body and had to force your eyes away.

"Where are we going?" You question, when you two walk past the parlor where she normally drinks her beloved wine.

"To my chambers. I have a proposition for you."

"Why not ask me here?"

"It's more of a. . . private matter."

"Right. . ." You nodded your head in response as if she could see you with her back turned as the two of you made your way up the grand staircase and down the dimly lit hallway leading to her bedroom. She entered the same way she had to leave the kitchen, with the slight bend of her body, clouding your view once more with her backside.

Your eyes immediately scanned the elegant room surrounding you, as it had been your first time ever allowed into Alcina's private quarters. Her furniture was larger than a regular humans, to be more accommodating of her larger physique. She sat at her vanity with a small huff as she freed her feet from her black stilettos, tossing them to the ground as you just stood quietly at the entrance, fixated on the way her fingers were gentle with every move she made. Even as she was sitting down, her posture remained perfect.

"You can come in. Close the door behind you and pour us some wine." She chuckled when she caught sight of your nervous stance.

"Okay. . ." You immediately came to her side after closing the door behind you and setting the two glasses on her vanity before popping open the wine bottle and gently pouring the dark liquid into each glass, careful not to make a mess with the way your hands were slightly shaking.

"Thank you, dear." Alcina swirled her wine before taking a large sip, quietly humming at the plethora of flavors reaching her taste buds.

With hesitation, you picked up your own glass, and did just as she did, swirling the beverage around before taking a small sip. You hummed to yourself once you got a taste of the wine, as you immediately took a liking to it.

"Good, isn't it?" Alcina asked, before tossing her gloves on her vanity, followed by her large black hat that always shaded her face, freeing her pin tight curls.

"Very." Your eyes were trained on her as she looked at herself in the mirror, taking the pins out of her raven colored hair, and running her slender fingers through her curls.

"Good. I knew you would like it. After all, I do make the wine myself." She states matter of factly as her golden eyes meet yours through the reflection.

"You're very good at it."

"That's very kind of you, thank you." She smiled softly, and you gave her one in return. "Will you be a dear and unbutton my dress for me?" She asks politely.

"Oh- of course." You set your glass down next to hers before standing behind her, bringing your shaky hands to the back of her white dress and carefully unbuttoning the fabric little by little, slowly revealing her pale back until each button was undone. "There you go."

Alcina took another sip from her glass before she stood up, towering over you. "Would you like to hear my proposition?" She asked calmly, slowly sliding her arm out of her sleeve.

"Yes. . ." You eyed her curiously, slightly knitting your eyebrows, and forcing yourself to not tear your gaze from her glowing eyes. "You said it was a private matter?"

"I did, yes." She slid her other sleeve off, and slowly dropped her lush white dress down past her curves, revealing her slightly see-through black laced lingerie set that barely covered her luscious curves.

Your heart immediately started beating faster, and Alcina immediately caught on as you cleared your throat and tore your eyes away from her, instead taking another sip of your wine to cover the rising heat in your cheeks.

"If I'm being completely honest, you're one of the best maids I've ever hired. And I know you've only been here a month but I've noticed how hard you work. It's quite impressive." Alicia admitted as she bent to take another swig of her wine, thinking about her next words carefully.

"Thank you—"

Alcina lifted a finger to your lips, silencing you, before sliding that same finger down to your chest, walking you slowly backwards towards her bed. "And so I had this thought, that since you do so much around here, perhaps I could do a little something for you in return."

The back of your knees bump into her bed frame, sticking you in between both the bed and Alcina.

"Is that okay, doll?"

You nod your head, throat going dry at her sudden closeness.

"Use your words."

"Yes— do what you want. Please." You instantly caved, words coming out as more of a beg than you had originally planned, but with a bit of liquid courage, and a half naked Alcina towering over you was all it took for you to completely give into her control without a second thought.

"Good girl." Alcina smirked, and revealed her long and sharp claws in nearly an instant, making you freeze in place with wide eyes. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to tear this little dress off your body, is that alright?"

"Yes. . ." You were soft spoken and didn't dare move as she gently used her claws to rip your dress open from the front, it fell straight to the floor in the blink of an eye, leaving you shocked that she left you completely unscathed.

"I've been very curious what you've been hiding under that little maid outfit of yours, and I will say that I am pleased with what I see." Alcina admits, yellow eyes scanning your body from head to toe, as the only garments covering your body were your bra and panties. She returned her nails back to their normal red polished fingers and used a gentle hand to push you down at the edge of the bed. An idea ran through her mind as you sat below her, Alcina turning around without saying a word to grab the now half empty wine bottle from her vanity. As her body faced away from you, your eyes couldn't help but land upon her rounded ass and admire her luscious curves as her thong sculpted her ass perfectly, and not noticing how long you were staring until she spoke out.

"You know how I knew you were different from the others?" She questioned, bringing your focus back up to her face. "You look at me with those bright beautiful eyes with pure admiration. Whether it was close or from afar, I could tell you weren't gazing out of disgust or hatred. It was different. . ." She smiled faintly at the thought as she made her way back to standing in front of you. "It was the kind of look you gave me just now. Like I wasn't just some kind of tall hideous monster."

"I mean, look at you. You're not hideous, nor are you a monster. You're beautiful, Alcina. Truly. How could I not look at you with anything other than 'perfect' on my mind?"

Her gaze fixated on you, only sensing the truth in your words, and you swore you saw her cheeks turn just the slightest shade darker than her usual bright porcelain skin.

"And this, my dear, is why you deserve a special treat." She tucks loose hair behind your ear.

"Which is?" You slightly raise a brow out of curiosity.

"Why me of course." She grazed a slender finger along your jawline. "That is, if you'll have me. I won't force you into anything you're not comfortable with." Her face softened, full of sincerity, almost begging you to agree. "Let me show you how grateful I am."

You looked up at her through your long lashes, taking a moment to think about what she was offering, and what you were about to agree to. You knew she meant every word she said. She had respected you from the start, and it was a surprise to both of you that you each had an eye out for each other, and unspoken feelings were mutual.

"Show me then." Her eyes lit up at your words, and Alcina wasted no time in gently pushing you all the way back against the plush mattress, your body falling softly onto the sheets, and holding yourself up by your elbows.

Alcina carefully crawled her way above you, straddling your hips with her meaty thighs, and ensuring she didn't add her full weight to the pressure against your hips, as she didn't want to squish your small human body.

"What do you say we finish this bottle up, hmm?" Alcina flashed the bottle in front of you, and you nodded your head in return. A smirk toyed at her lips just before she took a swig at her new thoughts. When you thought she was going to bring the bottle to your own mouth, she brought it back to her signature red lips, but this time you notice she didn't swallow, but instead set the bottle down on the floor, bringing her attention back to you.

You licked your bottom lip slowly as Alcina placed both hands on your cheeks, and leaned down, hovering her face just inches from yours, causing your back to arch as you attempted to reach up to kiss her lips. Alcina pulled away ever so slightly with an arched brow, wanting words of affirmation before she continued.

"Please. . ." You instantly begged her through your parted lips.

She slightly chuckled before pulling your face completely to her own. Her large hands gently squished your cheeks, causing your mouth to open, your tongue sliding out past your bottom lip just as Alcina spit her wine carefully into your mouth which you took without hesitation. She gave you a moment to swallow before smashing her lips against yours, both of you humming at the new contact.

Her tongue swiped against your bottom lip, asking for more access, and in return your lips spread. She immediately dove right in, her large tongue dominating yours. You completely fall back against the sheets, Alcina keeping her body pressed against yours as her hands roamed your body.

You snuck a hand down to her large breasts, grazing your thumb against her hardened nipple, eliciting another hum from the woman.

Alcina was the first to pull away for air, only to bring her lips to smother your jawline with wet kisses, using a light hand under your chin to tilt your head, giving the woman access to your open neck. She immediately attaches herself to you, sucking and kissing along your neck, holding back the urge to sink her teeth into you once she reaches your pulse point.

"Mmm, you smell divine." She admitted between kisses, slowly working her way down your skin, and leaving soon to be marks along your flesh.

"Thank—" Your words got cut off with a gasp when Alcina nibbled your collarbone before soothing it with her wet tongue.

When she reached your chest, Alcina lifted her head with a slight lick of her lips, bringing her golden eyes to yours.

"I see we still have more fabric to get rid of. May I?" She asks politely, pointing to your bra.

"Yes." You were quick to give her permission, which she took with a small smile, reaching behind your back to unclasp your bra before sliding the thin fabric off of you, and throwing it to the side.

Her eyes landed upon your bare breasts almost instantaneously, gazing at their fullness with hunger in her eyes, watching as your chest rose and fell with your quickened anticipated breaths, loving the way you slightly squirmed under her gaze.

"My, my, even better than I imagined, little one. . ." She placed a gentle hand on your chest, cupping her breast softly, and grazing her thumb over your nipple, repeating the same action you did to her before.

She raised a small brow when you sucked in a breath, taking her sweet time in lowering her face towards your chest. Your back impulsively arched, pushing your breasts quicker towards her face, eliciting a deep chuckle from the woman.

"So impatient. . ." She looked up at you through her mascara filled lashes just as she flattened her tongue over your hardened nipple before attaching her lips to your breast. Alcina was gentle with her mouth movements, not wanting to graze her teeth against your sensitive skin, or accidentally harm you in any way.

A hand slid through her soft black curls, just barely keeping her head in place as her mouth worked wonders along your bud before kissing across your chest to pay attention to your other breast.

She slid a hand up to cup your other breast, fingers toying with your nipple and giving it a slight pinch, earning a small whimper to escape past your lips.

She then leaves wet kisses down your sternum, golden eyes watching every little movement of yours, whether it was your quick breathing or the slight arching of your back when she kissed a spot that felt ticklish.

As she kissed lower and lower, her kisses became faster and more needy as she went past your navel. Alcina, while lowering herself down, had her back arched, pushing her rounded ass in the air.

That view.

It was the kind of view that would be etched into your brain and never be forgotten.

She truly had the most beautiful curves you had ever seen.

Her teeth grabbed the thin lace, slowly sliding your panties down your legs, leaving you completely bare in front of her. Alcina's lustful gaze never leaves your lower half as she tosses your panties behind her. Her slender fingers glide past your glistening entrance, spreading your wetness around before bringing those same fingers to her mouth, and sliding them past her lips.

"Mmm. . ." Alcina uses her tongue to lick her fingers clean of your juices. "You have the sweetest little pussy." She hummed, leaning her face towards your wet center and licking a strip up your folds with her flattened tongue. Her hands held your hips down, not wanting you to move from her touch.

Alcina had never truly enjoyed herself as much as she was in the moment with you. She never thought she would've taken a liking to anyone, let alone one of her maids.

A quiet moan escaped past your lips when she flicked her tongue against your sensitive clit. Her fingers kneaded at your hips as she used her full mouth to pleasure you. Chills ran down your spine when she sucked your sensitive bud. She thought to herself how she couldn't possibly get enough of you and your taste along her tongue.

Alcina slid a hand between your thighs, slowly inserting a finger into your cunt. Her pace started off gentle and slow, before slowly increasing her pace little by little. Her pace matched the suction along your clit, and your moans couldn't help but grow louder.

"Be as loud as you wish, dear. I love hearing those pretty little moans."

Your hips begged to buck, wanting to push yourself impossibly closer towards her, but her strong hand kept you pinned down against the mattress.

"M-more, please. . ." You begged, gazing down at the woman between your legs.

Alcina slid a second finger past your entrance, eliciting a small whimper from you at the fullness of her fingers against your walls.

"You're so tight— just relax for me, Angel."

Your eyebrows knitted as you adjusted to her curled fingers, mouth agape as Alcina was giving you all of her attention. With every movement, your sweet spot got pleasured by her slender fingers, expertly curved just for you.

You did your best not to pull on her tight curls when your eyes rolled to the back of your head as her pace quickened.

"Yess, just like that—" You whined, head lulled back against the soft mattress.

Alcina felt your legs quiver around her, as you felt yourself quickly reaching your climax.

"You're close, aren't you?"

"Mhm. . ." You softly moaned out, hands clutching onto the comforter beneath you.

"Cum for me."

Your breath hitches in your throat, legs threatening to close around Alcina as not a moment later, you find yourself reaching your sweet release, coating her fingers with your juices.

"That's my good girl." Alcina cooed, keeping her relenting pace, wanting to see if she can get another one out of you.

Eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head as Alcina never faltered, her slender fingers putting in their work and stretching your walls.

As she went to adjust her positioning, her round ass jiggled ever so slightly, the sight immediately being etched into your brain. It made you wonder how one could be built so perfectly, and it made your cheeks red when Alcina's gaze fell onto you, catching sight of you checking out her ass.

Her small chuckle sent vibrations through your core, your breathing picking up as you felt yourself getting close once more.

You tried, but failed to hide a whimper as Alcina quickly switched her fingers out with her tongue, wanting to get an extra taste of you as you came for a second time. Your orgasm hit you harder than before, toes roughly curling as she used her tongue to lap up your mess. She hummed when your climax reached her tongue, savoring every little taste she could get of you.

Her movements slowed as you came down from your high, gently licking a strip up your folds to taste you one last time before sitting herself up, allowing you both to catch your breath.

You watched as Alcina sat on her knees, fingers gliding past her lips to suck off the cum from her now messy fingers, yellow eyes closing for just a moment as she licked them completely clean.

Your eyes fell upon her large breasts as she leaned herself forward to hover above you, hands relaxing on either side of your head.

"You're just the most delicious little thing I've ever had. . ." Alcina spoke softly, her gaze fixated completely on you. "Where have you been all my life?" She asked, fully not expecting you to answer, but was shocked when you did.

"Waiting for you." You admitted with a slight blush to your cheeks, eliciting the most beautiful smile you had ever seen form on Alcina's face.

"Fuck, you're perfect."

Her lips smashed against your own, engulfing you in a quick but fiery kiss.

She rested her forward against yours, both of you relaxing into the other's touch. You never thought she would ever be this close to you, but her touch comforted you, it made you feel safe.

However, your clean thoughts didn't last long when she pushed her full breasts against your own as she peppered your face with small kisses.

"I wanna go again." You blurted out, when her kisses reached your jawline.

"What?" She lifted her head to look at your face.

"I said. . ." You lifted your thumb up to swipe over her bottom lip. "I want to go again," You gazed at her with lustful eyes. "Please, Alcina."

"I see I severely underestimated you." Alcina smirked.

As she attempted to lower herself back down, you quickly grabbed her shoulder, stopping her in her tracks.

"I want to be on top this time."

"Really?" She lifted a high brow, her smirk not leaving her face.

"Yes." You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth as you looked at her with your best begging eyes.

"Okay. . ." She was hesitant at first, as she had never dealt with anything like this before, and never, ever, had anybody even want to spend this much time with her. It was all new, and part of it scared her, but the other part was relieved that she no longer had to worry about crushing your smaller body.

Alcina repositioned herself to sit next to you, eyes never leaving your body movements as you gently moved yourself to her lap, but only straddling one of her thighs, which she instantly caught onto.

"Ahh, I see now. The little maid just needed something a little bit more physical, hmm? Such a needy little thing."

Due to her height, her breasts sat directly in front of your face, and you had to tilt you head up just to look at the woman in the face.

You run a hand down her chest, fingers stopping at the small clip at the front of her bra that held it closed.

"I also need to take this off. You got to see mine, I think it's only fair I get to see yours too."

Alcina smiled and playfully rolled her eyes at your response, loving the bit of confidence that you had to admit what you wanted.

"If that's what you want. . ." Alcina brings her hands to her chest, carefully unclipping the small clasp and sliding the thin lace off her body before throwing it to the side, freeing her large breasts from their holder.

Your eyes couldn't help but wander across her chest, your bottom lip tightly being pulled between your teeth as your gaze fixated on her breasts.

Alcina watched as your eyes lit up at her bare chest and reached a hand down to your own, bringing it up to her chest, and allowing you to feel her.

Her pale skin was soft and smooth like butter, and your hand slowly slid over every bare inch of her. As you lowered your hand, your thumb grazed over her hardened bud before pinching it between your fingers, eliciting a small gasp from Alcina at the unexpected pleasure.

Her hands slid down to your hips, kneading at the soft flesh as she slowly began to glide your cunt along the length of her thigh with ease as your wetness was still very prominent.

You cup her breast gently and toy with her nipple as she keeps a firm grip along your waist. Your hips start a gentle rhythm, slowly working your way across her thigh, softly moaning as you attempt to push yourself farther down.

Alcina watched with fascination at your neediness for her, and how quick it was for you to be completely at her mercy.

Before you knew it, your free hand had slid down her sternum, past her navel, and landed upon her thin lace panties that had been soaked since she made you cum for the first time. Your gaze fell upon hers, Alcina immediately knowing what you were asking for, and nodding her head reassuringly.

Your hand slid underneath the fabric, fingers gliding over her wet cunt as your hips rocked back and forth against her thigh. A soft moan escapes when your fingers circle Alcina's clit, gently giving pressure to her sensitive bud.

You bring your mouth to Alcina's chest, sending wet kissing all along her voluptuous pale breasts, following the slight pattern of her veins.

"Just like that my sweet girl." Alcina cooed, followed by a deep moan eliciting from the woman.

You do your best to fit her tit into your mouth, flicking your tongue against her nipple. Alcina's grip only grows tighter along your hips now that you weren't the only one getting pleasured, her trying to hold back her long line of deep moans at the contact she's been craving oh so much. Your fingers were doing wonders for her, pleasure coursing throughout her entire body in a way that had her going feral on the inside.

Alcina's hunger for you only grew stronger when you curled your fingers inside her needy cunt, her head lulling back at the sensation. Your movements, now turning slightly erratic as you felt a knot in your core.

"Alcina. . ." You softly moaned out her name, feeling yourself quickly spiraling towards your third orgasm.

Your soft moans harmonized perfectly in sync with her deep ones, both of you getting lost in the mountain of pleasure you were giving each other. You only gave her a moment to adjust to your fingers before you matched them with the pace of your hips, her wetness quickly dripping down your fingers and into the palm of your hand.

"Fuck— just like that." Alcina moaned out, eyes reopening and gazing back down at you, watching your frantic movements along her thigh and your lips wrapped around her nipple.

Her eyebrows knitted just as your breath caught in your throat, both of you completely on the brink of an orgasm.

"Cum with me, Y/N." Alcina tried to order but it came out as more of a beg, but she didn't care. All she wanted was for the two of you to finish at the same time.

You nodded your head frantically, vision going blurry as you came along her thick thigh. Not a moment later, Alcina deeply inhaled as your palm hit against her clit, causing her to cum just a moment later with a drawn out moan.

"Fuck—" You whimpered, legs shaking around her thigh as you calmed your erratic movements, trying to catch your breath.

Alcina was breathing heavily by the time she got through her orgasm, and deeply sighing as your fingers slipped out of her. You brought your hand to your mouth, flattening your tongue against the palm of your hand, lapping up her juices before shoving the same two fingers in your mouth to clean them from her release.

You hummed when your eyes met with hers, loving the taste of her along your tongue. But, before you got to enjoy it for too long, Alcina gently grappled your wrist, pulling your hand away from your mouth to make room for her lips, engulfing you in a passionate kiss. Her tongue slid past your parted lips, begging for a taste of what you had.

After a long minute of making out, you both broke the kiss simultaneously to catch your breath as neither of you had the chance to catch some air.

"You didn't have to do that, you know." Alcina finally spoke after a minute.

"I know, but I wanted to. You pleasure me, so I pleasure you, it's only fair." You said playfully.

"Then I guess next time I won't be so fair." Alcina toyed, forcing you to smile followed by a small chuckle.

She tucked a stray hair behind your ear before her face had suddenly changed its emotions, as if she was thinking about something. Her eyes had glued to your exposed neck, gazing at your veins and listening to the fast beat of your heart.

You watched her swallow with a distant gleam in her eye. Following her gaze, you realized what she was staring at.

Your neck.

"Alcina—" You gently cupped her cheek, pulling her out of her trance.

"What is it, dear?"

"You're thirsty, aren't you? And not for wine."

"Well— Yes, but that doesn't matter." She waves her hand, standoffish. "I have some old blood bags in the fridge—"

"You can drink mine." You immediately offered her.

"No, no. I'll find something or someone else." She averted her gaze, wanting to avoid the conversation of you being a potential victim.

"You won't hurt me." You repositioned yourself and tilted your head to the side, completely opening your neck to her. "I know you won't."

Alcina deeply exhaled, knowing she was dying to have a taste of you, but having a fear of taking it too far to the point where it was lethal. After all, she had a special liking towards you, and wouldn't forgive herself if something bad happened to you because of her being reckless.

"I can't—"

"It's okay." You took her larger hand in yours, interlacing your fingers with her long ones, and giving her hand a gentle squeeze, hoping to reassure her. "I trust you, Alcina. Let me help."

"Fine. . . But just this once." Alcina sighed, hesitating to move. She licked her stained red lips before slowly leaning her head towards you.

You felt her hot breath along your neck, and her hovering just over your skin.

"I trust you." You repeat yourself for her to encourage her to continue.

Her hand reaches for your jaw, holding your head still as she quickly takes in your scent with a deep inhale.

"You smell divine. . ." She admitted, her nose immediately sensing the fading of your perfume with the lovely smell of sex.

Once she found the right spot, Alcina was careful when sinking her fangs into your flesh. You grew silent as you did your best to remain still, sucking in a breath at the sharp sting along your skin. Her thumb stroked your cheek to help keep you calm and at ease.

The pain was mild, and was quick for you to get used to. Alcina hummed when she finally got a deeper taste of you, knowing that you were the sweetest thing she had ever had. Her eyes closed as she got her fix of what she needed most.

After a few minutes, your vision started to grow a tad blurry, and you instantly felt relieved when Alcina slowly took her fangs out of you as carefully as she could. She used her tongue to soothe the faintly reddened area, completely cleaning your neck of any blood.

"Thank you. . ." She licked her lips with a grateful smile and her cheeks slightly flushed.

"You're welcome." You smiled back.

"Let's get you cleaned up, darling." Alcina offered, gently lifting you from her lap and setting you back down on the bed beside her.

She left you alone for a minute as she grabbed a wet rag along with some supplies to take care of your wound. The two of you sat in silence as you used the rag to clean yourself off while Alcina tended to your neck, cleaning the area completely and placing a bandage on top. She gave your neck a small kiss before returning everything to the bathroom.

Once she came back out, Alcina noticed the tired look on your face, and smiled weakly.

"You must be exhausted, why don't you sleep in here tonight?" She offered, making her way back towards the bed.

"Where would I sleep?"

"With me of course." Alcina chuckles as she makes her way to her side of the bed, and takes her thong off before sliding under the lush sheets behind you. "Come on, lay with me." She lifted the sheets next to her, making room for you to slide in at her side.

The two of you faced each other, gazing into each other's eyes silently before Alcina broke the silence.

"Don't be shy dear, come closer." Alcina opened her arms for you.

You didn't hesitate to scoot closer towards her with a small smile, tucking your face into her neck and intertwining your legs with hers. You yawned just as Alcina wrapped an arm around you, pulling you flush against her warm body.

Sleep instantly took over you, exhaustion hitting you like a stack of bricks and you soon found yourself falling asleep in Alcina's arms as she gently traced patterns along your bare back.

She let herself enjoy the peaceful moment, waiting for you to be completely asleep before she allowed herself to fall into a deep slumber with you tucked safely in her arms.