#my GRANDPARENTS have seen my partner more than my parents have | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

slightlymore · 1 year

Text

death of peace of mind

train conductor haechan x fem reader

genre: magiccore/miyazaki/tim burton, broad industrial revolution/victorian setting, romance, soulmates au, enemies (?) to lovers, !!slow burn!!, angst, smut, multiperspective

warnings and content: +18, explicit sexual content, virgin reader, fingering, unprotected, nipple play, biting, some level of corruption, sexual tension, oral fem receiving, hand job, pet names (darling, love, baby, my girl, my lady) and titles (Sir, Miss), begging, praise, spanking, sexual tension, gentlemanly and lady-like behaviour etc etc

words: 19k

other characters: mark as reader's friend, jeno for a moment, johnny mentioned

synopsis: The Train. That's where your parents met a few years before you were born and that's where your grandparents met as well as their parents before that. Oh to be grown and travel on the Train as well, meeting your soulmate and falling so madly in love that you'd become consumed by it. And there you were years later, your only travel case in your hand and your best dress on, standing in the Train Station at exactly 1:05am on the 1st of May. You looked up and let the night sky calm you down and when you looked back in front of you, the train was there. What were you supposed to do now? But then one door opened, engulfing you with the freshest flowery scent. The most gorgeous man you've ever seen in your life descended and tilted his hat lifting one gloved hand to guide you inside. "Welcome aboard, Miss."

for the lovers of dream sorter haechan

__________

When the curtains call the time

Will we both go home alive?

It wasn't hard to realize

Love's the death of peace of mind

The Train.

That's where your parents met a few years before you were born and that's where your grandparents met as well as their parents before that.

The tales of those encounters enriched your childhood and your fragile dreams. Oh, to be grown and travel on the Train as well, meeting your soulmate and falling so madly in love that you'd become consumed by it.

You’ve always desired it. You’ve always longed for it.

The teachers would get shiny eyes and beaming smiles on May 1st. You remembered the first time it happened. The air felt different and the town felt more alive than usual.

"Today is a special day for all of us," your parents also smiled at the breakfast table. They looked almost shy and they exchanged gazes they would usually let themselves have in a more private moment.

You were in your first year of elementary school but from what you could understand, that day sounded like a big deal for the adults and it started to be a big deal for you as well.

"This is the day when people go on a Journey to find their soulmate," the teacher repeated what you've already heard at home.

The Train, the children would whisper, the giddiness in their voices making you almost escape your skin with excitement.

"Can we go and see it?" you asked with your heart in your throat from the emotion. You really wanted to see all the young adults go to the Train Station and embark.

The teacher smiled as if that was the most common question asked. "Unfortunately, it's a very private moment. But when you're ready, you will finally see the Train and you will find the love of your life during the Journey."

You were an only child so besides your parents' tale of how starstruck they both felt upon seeing each other on the Train, you had no other immediate example of how the experience would go.

"My brother Johnny said the place they ended up in is way more gorgeous than our town," one of your classmates and your best friend said one time. "But not as gorgeous as his partner, he said,” making a throwing-up motion with his fingers.

A choir of grossed out children made you giggle at the time and you joined them, but deep inside you knew that it was indeed possible to meet a person more gorgeous than the most gorgeous place on earth.

You wanted that. You desperately wanted that.

Your parents also said their towns of origin weren't as beautiful as the one you were living in and although you could objectively see it was decently cute and cozy you were sure they felt that way because of the rosy love glasses.

"Why do I have to leave this place when I find my soulmate?" you wondered one time as you were growing older and having more and more thoughts about the Journey.

Your mom patted your head. "When you find the love of your life the Train stops and lets you both off. The couple has to live in the place they ended up in."

"What if I want to come home?" you argued.

"Your partner will be your home," your dad explained with a fond smile. "We will see each other often the way you see all of your grandparents. Don't worry about missing us."

"Also it is too soon for you to think so deeply about it," your mom chuckled, pulling at your cheek.

Yet, there you were years later, your only suitcase in your hand, which you bought for the occasion, and your best dress on, standing in the Train Station and feeling like the too soon came, well, too soon.

Your mom helped you put on some makeup as well that day and you had to admit you were feeling pretty cute.

But oh so anxious.

You couldn’t believe you were about to initiate the Journey on the Train. Thoughts of how your soulmate looked like adorned your mind since you could remember but in the latest months you found yourself fantasizing about them more and more.

But with the pretty thoughts, some thoughts of doom would send rocks to your mind as well feeding your anxiety even further.

The mixed emotions made you uneasy.

"What if there's no soulmate for me?" you looked yourself in the mirror as your mom finished her last touches on your hair.

"Nonsense," she reassured you.

"But has it happened before?" you insisted.

She sighed. "Yes but it's very rare. What happens, in that case, is that you need to come back home and you need to go on the Journey the following year."

"And are there people who went on for many years and they met no one?"

"Not as far as I know. Everyone met someone sooner or later. Your grandma met your grandpa after 3 years."

You exhaled. Maybe you'd just go on a little train ride and come home before sunset.

Maybe you'll also need 3 years.

Maybe no one would fall in love with you ever.

You expected the Station to be full of people but it was completely empty.

"Don't worry about it. The Station doesn't let you see your friends until you're all on."

You bit your lower lip and waited. There was no moon on the sky and the stars were very visible.

You looked up and let the night sky calm you down and when you looked back in front of you, the Train was there.

"Heavens," you swallowed the little surprising gasp and looked to your right then left feeling your breath accelerate. You didn’t hear it arrive.

What were you supposed to do now? Was it supposed to feel this ominous?

But then one door opened with a slow hiss, engulfing you with the freshest flowery scent.

The most gorgeous man you've ever seen in your life descended and tilted his hat lifting one gloved hand to guide you inside.

"Welcome aboard, Miss."

His hair was black and a bit longer in the back. Your father would have said it looked a bit messy; he’d probably offer some gel and suggested him to comb it backwards. But the man wore it so well that you found yourself thinking how it would feel like to pass your hand through it and mess it up even further.

“Thank you,” you replied quietly. Then you cleared your throat and tried again.

The man’s face was a polite mask, not one muscle of his perfect face twitching or moving. On the contrary, you felt your face in flames as you walked near him to enter the wagon.

“Please, choose the coach you’re most attracted to,” you heard his voice behind you. The fresh flowery perfume followed you both and you realized it was his scent. Taking a few steps forward you found yourself shaking ever so slightly.

“Who are you?” you turned around before having a chance to look down the dark but cosily illuminated wooden corridor of the train.

His chest was so close that you could see the little silvery tag on it. Conductor.

Then you took a step back not realizing how close he was.

“I apologize for not having introduced myself earlier. I am the Conductor, Miss,” he simply replied. “I’ll be around the Train if you need me. Also, if you ring the bell you’ll find in every wagon."

His eyes were a dark shade of marine blue, you realized, like the ocean during a storm, when you can’t distinguish between the water and the sky.

Your grandpa told you many tales of his life at sea. He used to say it was the most beautiful and terrifying thing, and at the time you didn’t understand how something scary could be beautiful, but that man’s eyes made a shiver go down your spine yet you didn’t want him to stop looking at you.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I'll leave you to get comfortable,” he tilted his hat again, making a shadow appear over his eyes, as if reading your mind and seeing your fascination with them.

You gave him a little bow as well, as your mother has been teaching you it was polite to do when meeting gentlemen, then you stared at the way he turned around and took the opposite direction in the tight corridor. His shoulders almost touched the walls when he walked and his legs looked extremely long in his black uniform.

The coach you chose was the first on your left, a luxurious dark brown space, with deep bordeaux seats which you realized were softer than any other material you’ve ever felt before. You placed your suitcase on the designated space and sat down, looking at the windows showing your town’s Train Station, then you inhaled and exhaled looking down at your dress and rubbing your lace-gloved hands together.

What were you supposed to do?

Would your soulmate come barging in your coach?

Would you meet over breakfast in the morning?

Why were you all supposed to go at exactly 1:05am?

You suppressed a yawn wondering where you were expected to sleep, then with the corner of your eye you noticed the curtains slowly close and you gasped feeling the train depart at the same time.

Your older cousins liked to joke about ghosts roaming around the Train but you thought you were grown already to believe such things. Yet, the movement felt uncanny and you were so on edge that you haven’t realized you were squished against one of the seats’ corners until a ding made you scream.

On the little table a small card boarded with gold appeared out of thin air.

“Dear Miss, you are invited for Breakfast in the Dining Car. Please turn the card around for the Train map. My warmest regards, the Conductor”

You touched the paper with your fingertip as if it were a poisonous snake and the ink smudged a bit as if it has been freshly written.

Breakfast? At 1am? Maybe he meant tomorrow morning?

You turned the card around as instructed and the display for the train was illustrated. A little “you are here” red mark told you that your wagon was the one in the middle of the train.

You wondered how did the Conductor know you chose that specific coach when he left you just a few minutes prior and didn’t even check back.

The Dining car was towards the head of the train, the direction in which the Conductor walked, and the name Steam Locomotive adorned the first car. You wondered if he was in there or if his coach was one of the wagons close by.

The train was moving swiftly so it wasn’t bothering you as you thought it would. The closed curtains made you sad that you couldn’t see the scenery so you got up and extended your hand towards them, trying to perhaps see the machinery through which they were able to close on their own.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a voice made you jump in place.

“Mark!” you turned around and walked the few steps towards the door to hug a very dumbfounded young man.

“Hey, hey, you okay?” he awkwardly stood there even after you retrieved your arms from his neck and stared him up and down.

“I was so scared to be alone. It’s good to see your face,” you explained.

Johnny’s younger brother has been your best friend and the one you spoke about the Train Journey the most growing up. You were still ashamed to remember the way you cried for the whole night the time Mark told you his brother hasn’t come home from the Journey because he has found his soulmate. You had a very intense childhood crush on him.

“I get it,” he smiled then his eyes went down to eye your dress, then up, noticing your prettily arranged hair and makeup.

Then he sighed, almost disappointed.

Without realizing you touched your cheek. Did he think you were ugly?

“What?” you blinked at him.

Mark shook his head. “I just-,” he started then interrupted himself, a bright dust of red moving in towards his cheeks and ears. “I thought that maybe you could be- you know-sometimes it happens that even friends-”

You blinked at him then you felt your own face on fire. “Oh,” you realized what he wanted to say. The scarf you tied around your neck made it difficult for you to breathe.

“Well,” he scratched the back of his head. “I guess we’re not soulmates. That, of course, if you didn’t feel anything in particular either.”

“I felt relief,” you said.

Mark nodded, agreeing with you. “I was also just glad to see a friend.”

Was he disappointed you weren’t his soulmate? Or was he happy it wasn’t you?

“Same.”

The following silence made him clear his voice once then his eyes fell on the card in your hands.

“Oh, I got one too. I was wondering if it was a prank inviting me over for breakfast. I was going towards the Dining Car to at least check it out.”

“Right? I thought I was the one misunderstanding the invite,” you chuckled. “I’ll come with you now if you don't mind.”

Mark took a few steps back to let you exit the coach and his eyes fell on the window again. “My parents said that if you open the curtains when the train is moving you’ll be forced to descend in the first place you see. Alone. Without the possibility to return on the Train ever again.”

A shiver ran down your body at his words.

“There’s also a warning,” he indicated with his chin.

You followed the direction and noticed the golden plate near the curtains.

You could have sworn it wasn’t there before.

_________

The corridor was gorgeously decorated with fresh flowers and paintings. You and Mark took your time to peek into most of the coaches too, giggling a bit when you noticed some of their residents weren’t alone.

“How long do you think it takes for people to meet everyone on the train?” Mark asked, impressed that some were already coupled.

You thought about it. “The train stops in every town, doesn’t it? There's so many people. I feel like even a few weeks."

Mark winced. “That’s a long time. My parents met within 15 minutes of boarding. They had neighbouring coaches.”

“My parents met after a few days,” you recalled. “My maternal grandparents met after three years of trying.”

Your friend hummed. “That’s hard. I’d be losing hope.”

You swallowed the dry lump. “That’s a bit scary, yes.”

You didn’t want to tell him that you were afraid you might end up just like them.

The Entertainment wagons were about five, and you both held your breaths when entering the first as it was roaming with people. The strangers’ faces turned towards you both with inquisitive eyes, as if checking if one of you were their soulmate.

You bit your lower lip taking a few steps inside.

“What exactly do you think we need to feel when meeting the one?” you whispered as some people sighed and turned around, sign you weren’t interesting.

“No clue. But it has to be something,” Mark answered. “Maybe a sharp feeling. Awe. Even fear?”

“Fear? Why would I be afraid if I meet my soulmate?” you both walked slowly, staring at the board games people were playing.

Mark hummed. “Not actual fear. More so like the fear you get right before sliding down with a sleigh. It’s scary but you know it will feel very nice.”

The example made you chuckle and it broke some of the tension you were feeling. Then his words actually arrived to your brain.

Like the fear before sliding down with a sleigh…

…or the fear when you see a sea storm.

You shook your head and exited the coach to enter the rest.

_________

“I can’t believe there’s actual breakfast,” Mark repeated for the third time already, cheeks full with eggs and bacon.

You giggled, impressed by your own appetite so late at night. Or early in the morning?

“The train has different time zones than your town of origin,” a voice explained.

The scent came first and it froze you in place, the piece of banana you were about to devour still in mid-air.

Mark lifted his gaze to the side and greeted the voice.

“I hope everything is to your liking,” the Conductor added. When you put the banana down on your plate and looked up, he was already looking at you. His stormy eyes were slightly squeezed in an attempt to look polite. His uniform looked impeccable as usual and with his hands clasped behind his back his chest popped underneath it.

You forced yourself to look away.

“Yes, thank you. The train is gorgeous,” you said.

The Conductor smiled a bit more. “And I hope this is a congratulatory meal?” he asked, looking at Mark for a moment as well, who furrowed his eyebrows.

“Oh,” you shook your hands, realizing what he meant. “No no, it’s not like that.”

“We’re just friends,” Mark butt in, a bit scandalized.

You nodded fervently. “Classmates. From the same town.”

“Yes. Our coaches are close-by and we just found each other.”

The Conductor listened to one then the other, looking at both of you intermittently with his everlasting smile. “Well, then. I’m glad you enjoy each other’s company. I wish for you to find your soulmate when the time comes as well.”

You and Mark both thanked him and watched the Conductor bow enough for his eyes to get the same shadow you saw the first time you met him.

But he lifted his gaze to look at you this time. Slowly, letting his long lashes fan on his cheeks for a moment.

The pupils were very deep and you imagined yourself drowning in the almost black blue of his irises.

You couldn’t bring yourself to turn around and look at his back as he walked away to greet other passengers.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to reach and grab the fork because your hands were tightly clasped together on your lap to hide how badly they were shaking.

_________

On your way back Mark got welcomed by his male friend group in the third Entertainment wagon. Some of them had new faces around and from their shy gazes, you assumed they met their partners already. Some were alone and in the mood to party.

Mark invited you to stay but you decided to go back to your coach and have some rest.

You wished to be able to party like Mark did. In the end, for him that was also a well deserved holiday after spending most of his days helping his father with the lands. Many thought the same and not everyone wanted to go on the Journey to meet an actual soulmate. For a lot of people it was a nice break from studying or work and that was it.

But you felt uneasy to be that free-spirited, and you needed time alone to understand what was going on. After all, you’ve been day dreaming about the Journey and the Train your whole life. And now that the desired moment arrived there was something off about it all.

And you couldn’t point it out.

You’ve never felt more relieved to enter your coach and see a fluffy small bed in one of the seats’ places. You sat on it and you also found it very comfortable. How it got there you had no idea and by that time you decided to stop asking yourself questions on how that Train actually worked.

The spring dress you chose for yourself was easy to slip into but quite hard to undo, you realized, grunting a few times as you tried to untie the light corset. When you managed to open it you exhaled deeply and you let it fall to your feet.

Then your eyes darted towards the warning sign near the window as you slowly got under the covers.

Curiosity killed the cat but you really wanted to know what was behind those curtains and why you weren’t allowed to know.

Before you could realize that you didn’t brush your teeth or wash your face, the train stopped and you opened your eyes in the silence.

“Thank you for traveling with us. I wish you happiness,” the Conductor’s voice was muffled outside your window and you remembered your coach was the first near the main train entrance.

Did someone already get off as a couple? Or was that someone who looked outside and was now forced to live alone?

You walked slowly and stealthy and you were about to turn the corner to where the entrance you came in was when the voices stopped you in place.

They were many, perhaps six different ones, thanking the Conductor and chatting away, making already plans for the future. Imagining you in their place gave you anxiety - after all they all met a few hours ago and already thought of getting married - but you were also glad they were all soulmate couples and not any forsaken person who went against the rules.

Somehow, you also felt a but envious that it has been that quick and smooth for them.

The Conductor’s back was towards you and you looked at his long fingers behind his back as he greeted the people away. His white gloves covered them and for some reason you wondered how they looked like naked. His waist was visibly smaller than his shoulders and the spine line descended so beautifully that you felt the urge to draw him, although you were no artist.

You shook your head trying to get rid of thouse thoughts and realized that in the meantime the chatter died down as the passengers walked towards the Station.

The Conductor was still outside, probably seeing them away for good before departing, and his scent was slowly engulfing you the more you remained in his presence.

You swallowed. How could a man smell that good?

Then you realized you had a full-on view of the Station so you squatted down behind the corner and tried to make sense of what was outside. That was your only chance, you figured.

“You know that’s forbidden, right?” the man’s smooth voice made you jolt.

The Conductor was still standing stoically without looking back and you let your gaze fall around as to understand who he was addressing, because he definitely couldn’t have seen you.

“Yes. I’m talking to you, Miss,” he turned around enough for you to see his relaxed expression.

You could see only half of his face and the only visible eyebrow was lifted in a way that made his gaze look- well, sexy, you realized with a certain degree of embarrassment.

You got up and took a step forwards. “Well, I am not looking out through a window, so it is not technically forbidden. There’s not a sign near the entrance telling me I can't do this.”

The Conductor turned around fully. His lazy gaze rested on your face then slowly went down your body and stopped on your nude feet. His eyebrow lifted even more. You wigled your toes in embarrassment.

“I forgot to bring shoes,” you mumbled, your burst of confidence suddenly dying down.

“And a dressing gown,” he added, his pupils darting back down to your chest and hips in the almost sheer underdress you were wearing to sleep. “And some common sense,” he added, locking eyes with you.

You crossed your arms on your chest to prevent him from looking any further. Then you lifted your chin in disdain at his last phrase.

“That’s not very polite of you. Gentlemen avert their eyes.”

“Tell me, Miss. What prevents me from grabbing you and making you descend here in this town with the excuse of you not following the rules?”

You gulped. “Common sense, of course. Why would you even do that?”

“Why not? Maybe I forgot to bring it with me the way you did coming here.”

You let your arms fall down in anger. “That would be very inappropriate and illegal!”

“Says who?” he smirked. “There’s no warning near the door saying I can’t do that.”

You bit your lower lip. “I get it. I should not be here. But you can’t push me out of the train. That would be barbaric.”

The Conductor stepped back inside in one fluid movement. “Usually passengers rest in their coaches or entertain themselves with the others in an attempt to find their soulmate. They don’t go wandering about.”

You dropped your gaze to his chest as he was getting way too close for your liking.

And when he unbuttoned his jacket, slowly, and let it slide off his shoulders and fall on yours instead, you visibly shuddered.

It was warm and big, and it smelled like him. Like that overwhelming flowery perfume.

You felt dizzy.

“I was just curious,” you whispered, feeling like a little child being scolded. But the Conductor’s expression was warm when you dared to look at his face again.

His lips were full and plump and you felt a tight lump in your throat seeing them move.

“Go back to sleep, Miss.”

His deep voice rang in your head the whole time you washed your face and brushed your teeth, feeling it incredibly warm. You let his jacket fall on the seat in front of your bed but as you slid under the covers you wore it again, and nuzzled you face into the material.

_________

In the morning, or what you felt was morning, you wore another dress you packed, a deep blue one you instinctively chose with little black flowers around the crown of it.

Some people were walking against you in the corridor and you could audibly hear them stop their breathing as you locked eyes.

They were wondering if you were their soulmate.

Yesterday you would have walked slowly and looked around shyly as well, but today all you wanted to do was to bring the Conductor his jacket back and all of those people were just in your way.

You were about to start pushing against people’s shoulders when Mark’s head pocked out of a coach and his ruffled hair made you realized he just woke up.

Not in his bed.

“Mark Lee!” you stopped in place.

“Fuck,” he blinked at you. “You out of all people. I mean, so nice to see you-”

“Did you find your soul-”

Mark exited the coach quickly and closed the door behind him. “Shh,” he was about to place one hand on your mouth but then looked at it and put it behind his back instead.

“Let’s not- do not say anything.”

You blinked at him. “Are you telling me that-”

“Maybe,” he interrupted you again. “Listen, people here are gorgeous. There’s no need to save myself for marriage or anything.”

Your jaw fell. “Mark Lee, did you just sleep with some random woman?”

He scratched one eyebrow. “Did I offend your sensibility?”

“You’re just some man, aren’t you?” you looked him up and down. “Whatever. Have fun,” you rolled your eyes and started to walk again. “And wash that hand, would you?”

“How do you even know-”

“I wasn’t born yesterday,” you turned around to quickly let your tongue out at him.

“Is that the Conductor’s jacket?” he asked before you could exit the car.

“No? I just found it around,” you answered quickly, leaving him behind with his questions.

The Conductor said you had no common sense but you had enough common sense to know that being seen around with his jacket would somehow be a mistake. He was the one who didn’t have the common sense to know to not send you to bed with it.

Lost in your thoughts you didn’t realize how far up the train you arrived and when the cars started to be empty safe for storage items you stopped in place to catch your breath.

It was very silent up there, the only sound coming from the rails outside and the steam locomotive.

You were close. And you had no idea why you knew that.

The walk towards the locomotive was slow and the spaces less fancy. Some coaches were on your right and you wondered if perhaps the Conductor was in one of them.

Or maybe you were stupid and he was way back in the train, doing his job.

When you felt like that damned train didn’t even have an end, in front of you a big dark door with a skull on it indicating some type of danger opened and the swish of fresh flowers made you close your eyes for a moment.

The Conductor’s head was tilted to the side as if amused.

“I see that this time you’re decently dressed,” he said, the his gaze fell on your chest. “Almost.”

You gulped and put on a brave expression. “I came to give you this back. Thank you.”

The man looked at the jacket you were holding and reached towards it slowly. His fingertips touched your knuckles for a brief moment and it made you so tense that you felt your head pulsating.

“You could have rung the bell. There was no need to come all the way up here.”

You let the air come out your nostrils. “You always scold me. You should be thankful I brought this back to you.”

“I am scolding you because you keep taking the most convoluted decisions instead of the straight forward ones.”

The informal conversation and the lack of Miss from his part made you nervous so you tried to look around his shoulder to see if any staff, or worse, the train driver could hear it.

Although you found his tone aggravating you didn’t want him to lose his job or anything.

“So you didn’t make me come because you were curious to see the Locomotive instead,” the Conductor added, seeing you snoop your nose around.

You straightened your back. “I was just trying to see if someone was listening to your inappropriate comments towards a passenger and a lady.”

The Conductor smiled and took a step to the side. “No one is here.”

For a second you forgot about him, the curiosity of how that Train actually worked exciting you more. “Who drives this then?” you stepped in and looked around the small space.

“No one,” the man explained and his breath caressed the back of your neck. When you looked behind your shoulder you realized he was staring at the goosebumps on your exposed skin.

“Why is there a chair here, then?” you cleared your throat and walked around it.

The Conductor wore his jacket and put his hands on the back of the big chair. “I like to sit here and look outside.”

You lifted your gaze towards the small window in front of you. You hadn’t even realized you could see outside.

“Do you want to try and sit down?” he asked.

You bit your lower lip. “Would that be alright?”

“I thought you didn’t care for rules,�� he smirked.

You lifted your chin and sat down. It wasn’t much, just the railroad in front of you and some trees on each side. But it was peaceful and your curiosity got fully fed.

Now you wondered when it was the time to be killed like a cat.

“Why are you really here, Miss?”

The Conductor’s voice was so close to your ear that your spine curved. But you didn’t move away.

“Don’t-” you gulped. “Don’t flatter yourself or anything. I came here because I was curious and I had to give your jacket back.”

His index finger touched one of your hairs near the ear and you jolted in place, moving your head away. The man was smiling. He was holding a small feather that was probably stuck there.

“I hope you’re satisfied at all times, Miss,” he replied. “And I am here to make sure all of your future needs are fulfilled as well.”

That tone and those polite words were meant to be professional yet your mind went to Mark’s ruffled hair and half naked body. You imagined the Conductor’s dark hair on your pillow and his scent engulfing you all as his touch made your spine curve. And his hand, would he also use his hands on you like Mark did with his woman?

You shook the thoughts out of your head and got up quickly, feeling it hard to breathe in that narrow space.

“Thank you. I will leave now,” you voice was wavering and if he noticed it he didn’t say anything about it.

“I hope you have a pleasant journey,” he wished as you exited the car.

He didn’t mention anything about finding a soulmate this time.

__________

Your scent lingered on Haechan’s body the whole day.

It was in his hair, his nostrils, his skin, around his neck and his hands. He wondered if you slept with his jacket the whole night and the thought of your naked body pressed against the material of it made him almost knock heads with a passenger.

“Good day to you, Sir,” he tilted his hat last minute.

The young man barely noticed him, as his eyes were directed towards another person in the corner of the car.

Haechan was very acustomed to that gaze. He saw it every day for the past few years - the look of someone madly in love at first sight.

That was how your eyes looked like the first instant he saw you on the platform waiting for the Train.

Waiting for him.

He wondered how that gaze looked on his face but he was sure you didn’t notice it.

He wasn’t even sure it was there in the first place.

His instincts got the best of him and he worked on autopilot. Polite face, good smile, distance.

Hell, he even took the sign away from your windows for five minutes. But then you almost opened the damn curtains - as he intended for you to - and he realized he couldn’t physically let you go.

It was probably a mistake, he thought the first seconds of seeing you. He took the job of the Conductor because his old grandpa couldn’t work anymore. Haechan lived on that train since he could remember. It was always him and his old grandpa, in the middle of the swarm of people looking for soulmates. It made him sick to death to see all that love around him.

I wish you didn’t hate your parents for falling in love, Haechan, his grandpa used to say.

But it would have been different if they fell in love with each other.

But they didn’t.

The boy has been told the tale of his family of Conductors many times. It was a curse, they said. No one in his family had soulmates and they were tasked with assisting the Train instead.

How did you and grandma decide to be together then? small Haechan asked at the time.

Sometimes you just choose who to spend your life with. This is how your parents met as well. Your father came on this train often and never met his soulmate. Your mother understood he might be a good husband choice so she approached him and that’s how they got together.

But then dad met another woman on the train and left my mom.

The grandpa sighed deeply. He just met his soulmate. He didn’t do anything wrong.

Haechan as a child couldn’t know what to say to that.

He knew something was not right but he didn’t have the vocabulary to argue back.

But as a teenager he finally understood.

He abandoned my mom, your daughter, and he abandoned me. Don’t speak about that man ever again.

Haechan’s grandpa would only sigh and pat his shoulder. You’re growing into a fine young man. I am proud of you. And I am sorry that happened. When you’ll meet your person you’ll understand their choices.

I will never understand it because I don’t have a soulmate. And I surely as hell won’t marry a woman that might meet her rightful soulmate years later and leave me.

Your grandma never left me, he used to remind him. And I wish for you to have children. Who’s going to assist this Train otherwise?

To hell with this fucking Train, Haechan would explode and run away.

He didn’t hate the Train.

It was his home.

So when he’d calm down, sitting on the outside metal stairs and looking at the scenery no one besides him and grandpa were allowed to see, he’d realize he didn’t hate his parents either.

His mom remarried and left the Train after dad left.

Haechan wasn’t sure if she was actually in love although from her letters she seemed happy, but the memories of her time closed off in a coach on the verge of death were still haunting him. Haechan stopped reading his father’s letters altogether and started to burn them in the Locomotive.

A young woman approached him and Haechan shook off the memories and the convoluted thoughts about you from his head.

“How may I help you, Miss?” he placed his hands behind his back with the best custom service expression plastered on his face.

The woman seemed embarrassed.

“If you need anything, please, don’t hesitate to ask me,” he tried to reassure her.

She inhaled and took a step forward. Haechan leaned down to hear her better. “Well, you know how you said the coaches makes appear everything that you want? I was-, well, I met a man and- I know he’s not my soulmate but it’s not against the rules and we’re doing fine together for now and we were well, we were wondering how to make- how not to-”

“Get pregnant?” Haechan simply asked and the woman’s pale face turned purple from embarrassment.

She surely didn’t expect him to be that straightforward. “Usually if you really don’t want that to happen, it doesn't,” Haechan continued. “If you’ve encountered difficulties then maybe you or your partner have-,” he interrupted himself. “-a breeding kink?”

The young woman placed her palms to her cheeks and gave him a little bow. “I understand. I think I need to go now, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

“You just have to-” Haechan tried again but the woman already ran away.

“I see I’m not the only one you’re being not so professional with,” a voice made him turn around.

__________

You were on your way for lunch. Or dinner? You lost track of time. You’ve been on that Train for less than 24 hours yet you felt like a lifetime already passed. To think you had to stay there until meeting your soulmate made you almost throw up.

“I thought you were very excited to meet your soulmate,” Mark commented that morning, eyes closed under the fake sun in the fake seaside car.

You sighed.

“I am.”

You were.

Or you thought you were. But somehow you lost interest. You imagined yourself inside the Train for so long that the moment you actually got on it it all lost meaning.

And how was it possible that none of the men looked interesting enough to even have a mere conversation? The only ones approaching you were trying to get under your dress and you soon realized that romance was not the way you imagined it to be.

“You don’t sound like excited. It’s as if you can’t wait to get off of here,” he opened one eye then turned to his side to see you better. “If you haven’t met the one yet, then what about enjoying it to the fullest until you can? It’s a place with free food and entertainment.”

You gave him the side eye. “I do not intend to sleep around with random men. I’m a lady.”

Mark rolled his eyes. “I’m also a gentleman and going down on people doesn’t make me less gentle.”

You almost spat your water. The Train somehow made everyone change or it opened your innocent eyes because you had no idea your childhood friend had that side of him.

“Did you really not find anyone who’s kinda attractive? You don’t even have to know his name,” he insisted.

Actually, there was a man whose name you didn’t know who you found very attractive. That was probably the worst part of that experience. Was it normal to be attracted to the Conductor like that?

You shook your head. “Nonsense. I will wait for my soulmate. And no, no one around is attractive enough.”

Mark exhaled and went back to his previous position. “I just don’t like seeing you sad.”

“I’m not sad.”

“Then angry.”

“I’m not angry.”

“You’re angry now.”

“Because you’re pissing me off,” you sat up. “I’m going to eat.”

You were already too confused for your liking. You didn’t need Mark Lee to investigate further.

The desire to have a soulmate was still there deep inside, the longiness and the need, yet for some reason you also felt numb to everything around you.

Still feeling like Mark rubbed you the wrong way you almost missed the figures of the Conductor leaning down to whisper in a young gorgeous’ woman’s ear in the middle of the Library wagon.

The woman seemed scandalized and so red that she looked like a tomato. The Conductor’s face was unfazed but a bit confused as she ran away.

“I see I’m not the only one you’re being not so professional with,” you couldn’t help but say.

The car was empty safe for the two of you and when he turned around you smelled his ever present scent.

It drove you insane. What kind of damn cologne was that man wearing?

“What do you go flirting with passengers for?” you crossed your arms on your chest. Maybe Mark was right and you were actually angry but seeing the Conductor’s face just added to the whole irritation, especially catching him flirting with your shy women.

The Conductor tilted his head to the side as if genuinely surprised but also intrigued at your reaction.

“What if someone else besides me saw you? What would happen to your position and reputation?” you went on.

The man took his time to open his mouth and talk. “I don’t understand if you’re mad at me or if you’re worried for me.”

You lifted your chin. “Maybe both.”

“It takes a good amount of care for both. Do you care about me?”

He took a few steps towards you and the closeness made his voice quieter.

You didn’t let him intimidate you with his charm.

“I was raised a lady of good principles and seeing the Conductor of a Train meant to help people find their soulmates flirt with its passengers is not appropriate and I have to speak on it.”

The Conductor’s smile widened. “And lurking at the time of descent in a skimpy night gown and nude feet is appropriate?”

His dark blue eyes were more stormy than usual and the moles on his face reminded you of the nightsky above you as you were waiting for the Train.

“Coming all the way to my coach with a dizzying cleavage is appropriate?”

His voice was so deep and close that you had to avert your gaze to catch your breath.

“Shaking like this in my presence and being unable to look me in the face is appropriate?” he whispered so close to your lips that you inhaled and took a few steps back.

“You’re also here to find a soulmate, Miss. Concentrate on doing that and leave other people’s business to themselves,” he added in his usual calm voice and walking around you he left you breathless and alone in the middle of the Library.

________

Haechan reached for his tie to undo the knot and he realized his fingers were slightly shaking.

Your scent made him more on edge than usual and the fact he could still smell you on his jacket made him unreasonable mad.

And your face and expression, your hurt eyes seeng him talk to that woman, as if you were jealous, was driving him insane.

What were you thinking roaming around him like that? With your delicate blue dress and your cleavage moving up and down in that damn corset with every quick breath your took?

He should have let you move the curtains and never see you again.

Haechan walked the distance from the entrance door of the car to the Bar and without caring about anyone he walked behind it and poured himself a shot of whiskey.

“Hard day?” a voice made him sigh deeply before turning around.

He forced himself to smile. “I am not in service right now,” he lied to excuse his drinking on the job.

The young man waved his hand. “No one would care anyway. They’re either on a date or uhh fucking.”

“Would you like one?” Haechan indicated the bottle, ignoring the man’s choice of words.

The other nodded. “I’m Jeno.”

He expected Haechan’s name in return but the Conductor never tells his name to passengers. “I hope you’re enjoying your stay,” Haechan said instead, pushing a glass towards Jeno.

The latter took it and winced after downing it. “I’m not here for that. I’m actually a journalist.”

Haechan fought the urge to roll his eyes. There was one of two of them every year trying to gather some kind of hidden information about the Train. Haechan also thought there were some secrets about it growing up but it was a pretty straight forward thing. Just a Train in which you can meet your soulmate. Nothing more.

Well, that until he met you and your scent got under his skin.

“Is there something specific you’re writing about?” Haechan politely asked.

“Is it true that soulmates understand they’re soulmates because of each other’s scent?” he asked, and a writing pad materialized in front of him.

Haechan eyed his pen ready to take notes then his face. “You should ask the passengers. I am not someone who has a soulmate.”

“So it’s true that the Conductor has no soulmate.”

“Yes. It’s not a secret.”

Jeno nodded, not writing anything as if that wasn’t the information he was actually seeking out of him.

“My parents said there’s no such thing as scent. They’re also divorced,” he said.

Haechan sighed. Another young man hurt by that Train and his parents. “Sometimes people come here and go home together even if they’re not sure they’re actual soulmates. Maybe your parents mistook their union for a soulmate bond but it was just infatuation.”

“Shouldn’t this place guarantee a soulmate union?” Jeno asked. He looked very angry and Haechan could understand why. “What’s the purpose of this Train then? Let people choose each other on land at this point.”

“It’s called free choice. The Train knows who’s an actual soulmate pair and usually it doesn’t stop for couples who are not actually bonded. This is why the train is not stopping now for all the people who are- uh, fucking.” Haechan was too exhausted to choose a more gentlemanly term for that.

Jeno didn’t seem to care. “Then why did it stop for my parents?”

“They probably insisted for it to stop. The Train doesn’t go against the free choice.”

Jeno poured another shot, gave it to Haechan and took a deep gulp straight from the bottle.

“Nice chat, Conductor. Can I ask to leave now?”

Haechan kept quiet for a moment. “You should stay until you meet someone or until the Journey comes to an end. If you leave now you will not be allowed to come back.”

“There’s no such thing,” Jeno whispered and got up, walking towards the windows. With one quick hand he moved the curtains away. The Train stopped slowly on its tracks and Haechan sighed.

“Please follow me. I’ll escort you to the exit for going against the rules."

__________

Is it true that soulmates understand they’re soulmates because of each other’s scent?

That phrase has been haunting you for the following hours.

You were rolling in bed from the moment you decided to try and sleep after pacing your coach for a while.

You didn’t mean to eavesdrop.

You didn’t even mean to follow the Conductor but his pace was urgent and the curiosity still hasn’t killed you, especially after that heated conversation you had in the Library.

Shaking in his presence and being unable to look him in the face? He could see that? What was going on and why were you feeling like committing the biggest crime you could think of?

No, why was the Conductor with his deep eyes and his pillowy lips and his smooth voice the only thing you could think of when you were on that dam Train to find your soulmate?

The Conductor walked towards the Bar and you remained back in the smaller corridor, watching his throat gulp that brown liquid like it was water. Why did he look so upset? Was it you? Or was it his missed opportunity with that lady that you interrupted?

You felt stupid spying him like that and you were about to turn around and walk away when the voice of a second man made you stop in your tracks.

I’m actually a journalist, the man said and you wondered what the Conductor would say back. Would he accept to give the journalist information?

Is it true that soulmates understand they’re soulmates because of each other’s scent? You felt your blood turn to ice. What did he mean by that? Scents? Your parents didn’t tell you anything about that.

But then the following exchange of information made you feel even worse.

You should ask the passengers. I am not someone who has a soulmate.

So it’s true that the Conductor has no soulmate.

Yes. It’s not a secret.

Mark looked like a baby chick with his hair ruffled around his face. But you could tell it was from simple sleeping and not messing around with someone’s daughter’s insides.

You pushed him back into his coach after he opened the door and you sat down.

“Wow, when I told you to look around and decide who to fuck I didn’t think that someone would be-”

You interrupted him. “Mark, tell me everything you know about the Train, soulmates, and-” you stopped for a second, “the Conductor.”

Mark blinked hard as if unable to keep his eyes open and laid back in his bed. “It’s the middle of the night.”

“Actually I’ve been trying to keep track of the time and it should be middle of the afternoon.”

“Well, everything here is fucked and for me it’s middle of the night. Why are you so curious all of a sudden?”

You sighed and relaxed in the dark red velvety couch. “Have you ever heard of people feeling their soulmate’s scent more that other people’s?”

Mark hummed, one hand to scratch his forehead. “Yes. Johnny talked about it but at the time I thought it was something stupid people in love notice about each other. He said his partner smelled like patchouli and warm spices.”

You lifted your legs up to warm them under your night gown. “And your parents?”

“Dad said mom smells like lavender and mom said dad smells like woody herbal amber or something like that,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

He then opened his eyes and got up to sit, mirroring you. “Why? Did you meet someone whose scent is intense for you?”

You wondered if telling him the truth. “No, I just-” you played with a loose string along the hem of your gown, “I overheard a man talking about his parents never mentioning any scent and they’re divorced now.”

Mark leaned forwards. “Are you worried that your parents are not real soulmates since they also never mentioned scents?”

Actually that didn’t even cross your head but you realized that might be a possibility. You didn’t want your parents to divorce or anything.

“Oh, come on. I’m sure that’s not the case at all,” Mark came to sit beside you and wrapped your shoulders with his arms. You weren’t there because of your parents but Mark felt warm and comfortable to lean on so you didn’t correct him.

“What about the Conductor?” he then asked and you hoped he couldn’t feel the way you tensioned in his hold. “What did you want to know?”

You gulped and sat straight, letting Mark’s arms fall to your waist instead. “I’ve heard he doesn't have a soulmate.”

Mark nodded. “I’ve heard that too. Honestly I thought he would be some kind of very ancient man. At least, my parents said he’s very old, but maybe this is a new one.”

You kept quiet, biting your lower lip.

“What is it that you’re not telling me?” Mark whispered.

You lifted your gaze and his big sparkly eyes gave you the courage to open your mouth.

“If the Conductor has no soulmate, and soulmates feel each other’s scent, then why do I feel the Conductor’s scent everywhere I go?”

________

After Mark collected his jaw from the floor and you kept him up brainstorming the whole night, you met both early in the morning over breakfast to further discuss the possibility of you and the Conductor being soulmates.

“Not to put you down or anything,” he repeated, “but I’ve never heard of anyone bonding with the Conductor.”

You sighed staring down your coffee with no desire to drink it but knowing it would wake you up.

“I know, Mark, this is why I’m so dumbfounded.”

“I mean, also the original Conductor was a mummy of an old man. Maybe that’s why no one bonded with him. Maybe he was married already and that's how the rumour of him not having a soulmate started.”

You had a sip of the bitter liquid and winced. You were glad Mark was playing devil’s advocate with himself because you had no more force to discuss all the different points of view.

“I don’t even think it matters. He warned me multiple times to leave him alone and find a soulmate. How would being soulmates with him even work? Where would the Train stop? Would I be forced to stay here? Being the Conductress? Forever?” you felt like descending into madness.

“Listen, calm down. I think the solution is to check it myself first. We find him, I smell him. If it’s just his high quality cologne then you can put your mind at ease.”

You didn’t want to ask what would happen if he couldn’t smell anything but maybe your desperate eyes told him your feelings because he sighed.

“And if I don’t smell anything, I try to rizz him up and I’ll be like dang you look like you know your cologne. Can you show me your collection? And I go to his coach and I smell all of the bottles and if it’s any of them we know it’s just his perfume and not his actual scent.”

You opened your mouth.

“And-” he interrupted lifting one finger, “if it’s none of them then we will come back here and brainstorm together. He’s an attractive man. Maybe you’re just sexually attracted to him. I bet that if you tried and fucked-”

“I will not fuck the Conductor,” you said, perhaps too loudly. You both looked around.

You lowered your voice. “I don’t know what’s going on but having that kind of relation with him doesn’t sound like a good idea.”

Mark leaned back in his chair. “Okay then. I’ll start by going on with my plan then we’ll see.”

You exhaled and nodded once. “That sounds like such a stupid plan.”

Mark’s smile widened. “At least something fun is happening in this stupid Train besides drinking and sleeping around.”

________

Haechan finished his morning routine walk across all wagons and sighed looking at his pocket watch. Soon everyone would be done with breakfast and would go about their business. He had to go and assist in the enternatinment wagons in some time as well.

Then he felt a pair of eyes on his back and lifted one eyebrow.

“What can I do for you, sir?” he turned around to see your little friend fake confidence leaning on a wall.

If Haechan didn’t know better he’d think the young man was trying to flirt.

“Oh, hello there Conductor. Or maybe I should say-” Mark stopped his phrase as if waiting for Haechan to say his name.

“Conductor is fine,” he smiled, joining his gloved hands together in front of him.

“Right right. I will not push any boundaries. I was just wondering, like from a gentleman to another gentleman, if you can aid me choosing a cologne.”

Whatever Haechan expected that man to say it wasn’t that.

He had to suppress a laugh.

“A cologne, sir?”

Mark walked around him casually. “I mean, I am here to meet a soulmate and I thought damn what if I don’t smell good? That’s my biggest fear actually, you know?” he put his hand on the chest to convey how intensely he felt about not smelling good.

“When you’ll meet your soulmate, sir, they will think you smell like their favourite scent, so no need to worry.”

Mark stopped in his tracks and his stupid fake expression fell. “You said soulmates smell like their favourite scents just now?”

Haechan exhaled. “That’s what I said, sir.” He really hated repeating himself.

Mark kept looking at him so Haechan was about to excuse himself and bid the weird man farewell but then the awareness of his behaviour washed over him like a cold wave and he stopped in place.

Haechan lifted his gaze and met Mark’s intense black eyes.

“Are you not curious why I am asking you about scents, Mister Conductor?” his voice suddenly became lower.

“I am not a curious man, sir,” Haechan straightened his tie with the intention of leaving. He didn’t like where all of that was going.

But Mark took a step to the side, blocking his way.

��So what’s your favourite scent?”

Haechan fought the urge to grab the dude and physically move him away. “I like clean and fresh scents, sir.”

“And what does Y/N smell like?”

Haechan put his tongue in the cheek and flared his nostrils. “I wouldn’t know.”

_________

Mark thought about keeping this all a secret from you. Being soulmates with the Conductor of the Soulmates Train didn’t sound like a great time. It was like falling in love with Death when it comes to kill you. But he wasn’t going to be a bad friend.

He told you to wait in the Seaside wagon in hopes you could relax hearing the sea waves, but when he entered he found you fidgeting instead.

“How did it go?” you walked up to him but he exhaled and dragged you towards the lounge chairs.

He didn’t know what you wanted to hear, if confirmation that the Conductor was your soulmate, or if you wanted nothing to do with him.

“First of all, he doesn’t smell like anything to me,” Mark said. “He just has a normal clean person scent. Like any other person.”

You swallowed and inhaled shakily, letting the information sink in.

“Second of all, he said soulmates smell like each other’s favourite scents.”

You opened your mouth but nothing came out of it.

“What does he smell like to you, Y/N? Is it flowers?”

Mark knew you’ve always loved that scent. The sweet but fresh perfume of flowers with their infinite colours.

He didn’t need you to answer, he saw it in your pupils. You watched Mark close his eyes for a moment and exhale then open them again.

“It’s not all,” he said. “He behaved weirdly when I mentioned you. I have a hunch that he can sense your scent as well.”

________

I think you should talk about it together, Mark suggested, but you couldn’t just do that, could you? He was the Conductor after all. Such thing was impossible.

Also, for how much you loved Mark, risking such improper behaviour only because of a hunch was too much for you.

You thought you were afraid of not finding a soulmate. Growing up that has been your everlasting fear; yet your brain has never even taken into consideration the perspective of finding your soulmate in a man you could not have.

For how much you’ve been wanting to see him, bump into him, or exchange a few stupid words to each other in the past days, your felt the same equal amount of desire to avoid him at all costs.

You thought you wanted Mark to come back and tell you that it was just the Conductor’s overbearing cologne. You wanted him to say he smelt it too and that is confirmation that he couldn’t possibly be your soulmate.

Yet when he fed your idea that the Conductor might be your man the relief was so intense that you almost cried.

It drove you insane.

The following days you haven’t seen the Conductor once. Perhaps the encounter with Mark made him uncomfortable and he decided to avoid you as well. What if he though you were some kind of creep? He did warn you to leave him alone and concentrate on finding a soulmate instead. Was it possible to have a one sided soulmate?

Somehow you felt like that situation was all your fault. Maybe that was the death moment of the curiousity saying, because you kinda felt like dying slowly if you thought about any other man. Maybe if you didn’t go to see the descending moment, maybe if you didn’t sleep with his jacket, maybe if you didn’t go and find him in the Locomotive, maybe if you didn’t confront him in the Library, you wouldn’t feel like that.

Maybe maybe maybe.

“I know this is not good friend advice, but you could get your mind off of him by, you know, using someone else,” Mark shrugged, peeling an apple with a knife.

You sighed, pulling your summer hat lower on your eyes. The seaside car soon became you and Mark’s favourite. “You know what? Maybe you’re right.”

“You finally gave in my temptation?” he wigled his eyebrows.

“Yes. You’re the little devil sitting on my shoulder.”

Mark cut a piece of apple and ate it off the knife. “I can introduce you to some fine gentlemen.”

You snorted. “I saw the gentlemen you have around Mark Lee.”

“And? Are they not fine?”

“You can have them.”

Mark rolled his eyes. “Do you want to have fun or not?”

“I do. But I’m not sure if fucking random men is what I consider peak of amusement,” you replied. Mark didn’t say anything so you kept going. “Although, I noticed that the light brow hair man is not bad. I think his name is Jaehyun. He has nice hands and a great smile. I do enjoy a good dimple.”

You expected Mark to laugh at you but he remained quiet safe for a little nudge he gave you. You sighed. “The other J name man is not bad either. He’s tall and he looks gentle like a puppy.”

“Uhm,” Mark said and nudged you again.

“What? You said I should sleep with one of them,” you slid away the hat to give him a venomous side eye when your mouth dropped open.

Mark was looking at you with a little tight smile and in front of you, almost covering the artificial sun of the wagon, was standing the Conductor.

“I apologize, Miss. I didn’t want to interrupt your- uh lovely monologue,” he tilted his stupid hat.

You sat up feeling your body on fire. Then you looked at Mark who gave you a small apologetic smile.

Your mouth was dry and you had no idea what was the appropriate thing to say to someone who overheard you talk about fornication.

His scent should have told you he was there, but maybe you got so used to it that you were feeling it everywhere, messing with your perceptions.

“Good day, sir,” you stupidly said.

“I was just making sure you’re enjoying your stay,” the Conductor looked at you first, then Mark. “From your conversation I assume everything is fine.” His eyes looked black in the shadow and the little line between his eyebrow looked like a crack in his otherwise perfect face.

You gulped and bit your lower lip.

“Just a precaution. I told this the lady that stopped me in the Library the other day also, if you remember. As a contraceptive, please make sure to strongly desire to not get pregnant, so the Train can take care of you.”

________

The fact that useless friend of yours ambushed him like that told Haechan that you probably felt his scent everywhere as well.

And you must have spoken about it in such a way that made Mark investigate.

It made Haechan’s fingers tingle and they’d tingle ever more when he’d slid them underneath his covers at night, and fuck his fist to the image of you until he had to push his face into the pillow to muffle his groans.

Everything was a mess and for the first time in his life Haechan didn’t know what to do.

The letter he wrote his grandpa asking for advice was still unsent, looking at him from his desk.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to expose himself like that to his family. His grandpa would be nothing but supportive.

I knew you’d find a partner. See, now you understand it. It makes sense how your parents felt, doesn’t it?

Because no. Haechan didn’t understand it and his parents’ behaviour still didn’t make sense to him. Also, he hated to hear others say I told you so.

But also, his family never mentioned the possibility of a full-on soulmate. They said someone random. Someone that couldn’t find anyone else. Someone who would accept Haechan as a second choice.

He rolled in bed, the stickiness of his desire still coating his hand. Then he huffed and got up to wash.

His desire. It was such a foreign feeling to him to leave him breathless.

Yet it felt so familiar that he felt like he could finally breathe deeply. It felt like things were finally right, like he was finally home.

That morning he didn’t follow with his duties thoroughly as usual. The Train stopped twice and he looked behind his shoulder to check whether you were there, in your skimpy underdress and nude feet.

But you weren’t.

He tried to ignore you for the past few days and apparently you were doing the same.

Yet, he could feel your scent in the whole Train, as if you’ve just left the wagon he entered.

He wondered if you felt him everywhere as well.

In the afternoon, he couldn’t take it anymore so he followed the trail. He would just give you a short look, something to further fuel his autodestructive night fantasies.

You were in the Seaside car, as usual, your dress ridden up your thighs on that chaise longue and Haechan wondered how could Mark concentrate on cutting that apple without cutting his finger when you looked like that besides him.

“I know this is not good friend advice, but you could get your mind off of him by, you know, using someone else,” Mark shrugged.

Haechan stopped in place. He wasn’t eavesdropping. You were talking loudly enough for everyone to hear. But he didn’t want you to sense him.

You wanted to get your mind off of whom? Haechan?

“You know what? Maybe you’re right,” you replied and Haechan tightened his fist in his white glove. The image of you sleeping with someone else suddenly appeared in front of Haechan’s irises made the seaside car look like the north pole instead.

“You finally gave in my temptation?” that useless fellow asked and Haechan has never wanted to have a fist fight with a passenger more.

Of course, he wondered already if Mark was your soulmate and you both dumb idiots didn’t notice.

Maybe that’s why Mark even inquired about scents in the first place.

But why was Haechan sensing your scent if you were taken and why did the Train not stop for you two if that was the case?

Could the Conductors curse be that cruel? Making Haechan fall in love with a woman he could not have?

“I can introduce you to some fine gentlemen,” Mark said and Haechan didn’t know if he should feel relieved Mark wasn’t offering himself for your entertainment or be jealous at the idea of someone else touching you.

He decided to intervene.

“I do. But I’m not sure if fucking random men is what I consider peak of amusement,” you replied right when Mark lifted his gaze and a piece of apple fell from his mouth on the fine sand at his feet.

Haechan gave him a venomous look and opened his mouth to interrupt your scandalous monologue.

But you went on. “Although, I noticed that the light brow hair man is not bad. I think his name is Jaehyun. He has nice hands and a great smile. I do enjoy a good dimple.”

Haechan felt his jaw muscles twitch. “The other J name man is not bad either. He’s tall and he looks gentle like a puppy,” you continued.

Mark had the decency to look scared.

“I apologize, Miss. I didn’t want to interrupt your lovely monologue,” Haechan finally said as you finally realized what was going on.

He came there like a thirsty man to have a single drop of water and you were thinking of sleeping with other men instead.

Haechan felt like stopping the Train and descending himself.

Your eyes were glossy when you looked up at him, maybe from the sun but also from the embarrassment.

Haechan felt like making you feel even worse.

________

Your gaze followed the Conductor’s spine as he exited the wagon and you let a single pained whine as you burrowed your face into your palms.

“Mark Lee.”

The poor Mark got up and away from you as if he could sense you might take your frustration out on him.

“It’s not my fault.”

You let your hands fall in your lap. “Now he thinks I’m a whore.”

“I don’t think that changes anything. You don’t need his opinion or approval.”

You got up with another whine. “He ignored me for days and now that he approached me again he overheard me talk about who of your friends I might fuck.”

Mark finished his apple. “Hey. Wasn’t that your intention? Getting rid of him? Forgetting him?”

You exhaled.

Yes, but why did it feel so bad?

_______

They all eyed you the following night - the first ball party of the season, the little card said.

This time the ink didn’t smudge when it appeared on your nightstand out of thin air and it didn’t look like it was written by hand.

One detail made you bite your lower lip. Wear masks, the card said.

The car that was hosting it was huge and you realized it must have been some sort of optical illusion to make the space feel so big. The center was empty and you assumed it was for dancing. Most people were standing near the refreshment tables or near the walls and the exciting but nervous air made your skin shiver. Everyone from the train was there and you realized it was the perfect moment to meet a soulmate.

With uncertain feet in your high heels you reached towards the drinks but the glasses didn’t move from the tray.

“You need to say what you want and the glass unglues itself,” the Conductor said and his long fingers appeared in front of you. They wrapped the leg of a glass. “Champagne,” he said and the glass remained in his hand.

You didn’t dare to look at him. “I didn’t know Conductors were allowed to drink,” you tried, remembering the time he felt the need to have that wiskey shot in the bar.

“How do you know I am the Conductor?” he asked. His voice was low but light and amused.

You turned around quickly to see a black mask, leaving nothing but an anonymous jawline and a pair of lips. His hair was covered by a silver crown and in his elegant suit no one could have noticed who he was.

But you did.

You cursed at yourself.

The Conductor leaned closer. “Is it because of my scent?” he whispered.

You gulped and looked away towards the drinks tray.

“So you admit it,” you murmured, wondering if someone was looking at you.

“Admit what?” he asked.

The crowd of people cheered and you assumed a new couple formed.

The intermission helped you cool your head.

“I don’t know the names of all the drinks,” you changed subject.

The Conductor didn’t seem surprised. “Which one do you want?”

“I don’t know. The least dangerous looking one.”

“Bubbles,” he ordered and then gave you the glass full of sparkly liquid. It smelled fruity.

“Thank you,” you said.

“Do you always go for the least dangerous looking thing?” he turned around and looked towards the hall.

Some brave couples started to dance and you enjoyed the way the ladies gowns flowed under the golden lights.

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?” he smiled once before taking a sip of his drink.

“Yes,” you took a sip of your bubbles as well. They buzzed on your tongue.

“So you didn’t avoid me because you were afraid of me the past few days.”

It wasn’t a question.

“You knew where to find me if you wanted to see one of your passengers. This is your Train.”

The Conductor let his gaze fall on your face. “I did find you. You were talking about very interesting arguments.”

You gimaced, thinking of the Seaside Wagon incident. “It was just talk. I did not-” you started to explain the you realized how stupid it sounded trying to justify your actions, or non-actions, to him.

The Conductor sipped from his drink in silence. You couldn’t read his face normally, and with that mask you really had no idea what he was thinking.

“Are you upset I didn’t contact you all of these days?” he asked instead. "It was my understanding you were trying to forget someone by engaging in those actions and I am self centred enough to think that someone was me."

His honesty left you breathless. You considered lying. Admitting it would have been too humiliating. “No. I understand why you wouldn’t want to have anything to do with me.”

“Which is?”

“I look like a crazy woman who claims you’re her soulmate because you smell like flowers,” you blurted out before realizing what you just said.

Your hands in your white lacey gloves started to shake.

The man remained quiet for a moment then he chuckled. “Really? I smell that nice to you?”

You exhaled. “This is not a laughing matter.”

The Conductor analyzed your expression. “I apologize. I didn’t realize how this made you feel.”

His tone gave you the courage to look him in the eyes. Even behind the mask they looked alive, torbid like the dark deep sea.

But looking was a mistake.

“I suppose it’s something common for you,” you inhaled, starting to hate the everlasting flowers perfume surrounding him. “Women with soulmate claims over you, that is,” you explained.

The Conductor looked in front of himself and took another sip. “Yes. I am a charming man afterall.”

You hated him. Was he punishing you? Or did he actually not care about you at all?

“Well, I avoided you because I wanted to say I had no claims. Take this as a compliment on you smelling decently and let’s move on.”

“And what moving on means for you?” he inquired.

“Acting as normal Train Conductor and Passenger,” you took another sip of your bubbles. It started to taste too sour.

“Tonight many couples will make the Train stop,” he announced. “Would you like to see?”

You turned towards him and you locked eyes. “Does that sound like normal Conductor and Passenger behaviour to you?”

The young man laughed at your scolding. “I just know you’re curious.”

“Why would you be kind to me like that? Do you want to push me out of the Train as you’ve expressed your interests towards doing before?”

“I wouldn’t mind getting rid of you actually,” he joked and you could tell he didn’t mean it.

But the tears that secretly collected in your eyes during that conversation were close to falling to your cheeks. You left his side quickly but not before hearing him call out your name.

________

Y/N.

For some reason you thought he didn’t even know the names of every passenger.

Was that normal behaviour? From Miss to nothing to your actual first name.

He pissed you off.

He pissed you off so badly that the tears streaming down your cheeks were tears of anger, you decided.

“Oh heavens. Are you alright, dear?” a young woman stopped in tracks with her man.

“Yes, thank you, Miss,” you bowed a little holding your skirts. You wanted to get out of that car.

No. You wanted to get out of the damn Train.

Was it normal for love to hurt like that? Was all of that even love?

You had no idea afterall.

Everyone said you would just know and everything would fall into place. You’d have the best experience and make the Train stop to settle down with the love of your life. Then why all of those people felt like nothing around you and the only man your heart ached for you couldn’t have?

“Hey hey hey,” Mark stopped you by putting his hands on your shoulders.

You were barely seeing where you were walking.

“What happened?” he asked. “Did you see him?”

Bless Mark and his everknowing third eye.

You gave him a little nod and he pouted his lips, holding you into his arms. “There there. It’s alright. It’s okay.”

The people walking around you gave you some looks as they tried to reach the ball hall but you didn’t care.

“Mark, can you be my soulmate so we can go home and live together in a cottage?” you joked, your voice was muffled against his shoulder and you heard him chuckle.

“Actually-” he trailed off and you let him go, rubbing your eyes and finally eying the person on his side who was patiently waiting for you to calm down.

“I want to introduce you to my-” he added then interrupted himself again, looking at the smiling person with eyes you’ve never saw him have. “-the love of my life,” he finished.

________

Your coach felt like the safest place on earth and your cell at the same time.

After the congratulatory moments and after starting to cry again because you realized how happy you were for your best friend to have found the person he was going to spend his life with, the sad tears came along again as you realized that he was probably going to leave the Train that same evening.

We’ll come visiting often. Afterall I’m leaving my parents and friends behind as well and I want to see them again, he assured you.

You sighed and sat down on your bed.

The reflection the mirror in the corner gave you back made you jolt a bit. You cleaned the running mascara from your cheeks and laid down waiting for the Train to stop, trying to empty your brain.

The Conductor’s voice echoing in your head couldn’t let you fall asleep. Why was he behaving like that? Was he that cruel? Couldn’t he actual see what was going on?

When the Train’s rumbling stopped and you heard the chatter of some couples walking down the corridor you sat back up and opened the coach’s door.

Mark squeezed you in a tight hug then gave you a thumbs up as he passed in front of you with his luggage and, after some other people, you saw the Conductor closing the line.

He stopped in front of your door and opened his mouth as you locked eyes but then he probaby changed his mind because he closed it soon after in a tight line and followed the rest of the people.

You remained quiet behind his back and none of the passengers looked like minding having another spectator, so deeply lost in their partner’s eyes.

“Thank you for traveling with us. I wish you happiness,” the Conductor said, repeating the same phrase you heard him say that first time you witnessed a passengers descent.

Mark lifted his hand to wave and you exhaled, waving back, feeling tears prick your eyes as he turned around and walked towards the Station.

The Conductor remained there for the following moments and you somehow knew he did it for you.

“He’ll do fine,” he said after a moment of quiet.

“I know,” you simply replied.

“Y/N,” he turned around and you inhaled taking a step back.

“Don’t call me by my name. We’re not on those terms.”

The Conductor hesitated but then he took a step inside and the doors closed behind him.

Your gaze was on his shiny shoes so he hunched his back a little to make you look at his face instead.

The cry and the other events calmed you down by now but seeing his face made all of those feelings resurface.

You forced yourself to look at his eyes the way he cleary wanted you to.

“My name is Haechan,” he murmured straightening his back. “Would that make us be on those terms now?”

Your fingers fidgeted at the sound of his name and your lips fought the urge to say it out loud.

“Why?” you asked instead. “Why are you being mean to me?”

“I’m not trying to be mean,” he got closer to you and you took a few steps back again.

“I don’t want to be close to you. I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to be on first name terms with you. I wish for you to leave me alone if you don’t want anything to do with me.”

Haechan kept moving forward as you moved back until you hit the wall with your blades. He got as close as to rest his palms near your head on the wooden wall.

And when he leaned in and rubbed your cheek with the tip of his nose you forgot how to breathe.

“You smell like fresh cotton and linen,” he whispered with the most desperate tone you heard a man speak. It was so tender that it clouded your mind. “It engulfed me the same instant I opened the doors that night. You’re not insane, I feel it too.”

He straightened his back and looked you in the eyes. “The soulmate bond,” he added. “This is why you’re irritable when you’re away from me. This is why no one seems interesting to you, why this Journey feels boring. It’s not because you haven’t met the one yet. It’s because you have.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat.

“And? What now?” you didn’t let his sweet words sway you although all you wanted was for him to wrap his arms around you and press those pillowy lips on yours.

“The truth is I am as lost as you are,” he let his arms fall to his sides. “This is not supposed to happen.”

“I figured.”

“I come from the Conductors family,” he started. “Traditionally we do not have soulmates. Our people-” he stopped, as if unsure of how to explain. “-breed by choosing random people they want to be with. Sometimes the couples stay together. Sometimes they don’t if the person who’s not from this family actually meets their rightful soulmate.”

“Do you know of anyone who separated that way?” you asked although from his eyes you could tell that he did.

“My parents.”

You bit your lower lip. “I am sorry,” you wrapped your nudes arms.

“Are you cold?” he asked but you cut him off seeing his hands going to unbutton his outwear.

“Don’t you dare giving me your jacket,” you warned him. “It-” you stopped suddenly very embarrassed. “-was a lot to handle the first time,” you settled for, as drove me insane felt too much.

“I know,” he looked as nervous and for a moment it made you feel better. You also never realized how young he was. He was probably just around your age. “It made me feel a certain well, too,” he added.

You looked behind him and you realized your coach was just around the corner. Haechan let you walk around him and open the door, grabbing a shawl to put around your shoulders.

“Come inside. It’s warmer here,” you let your head peek around the corner.

Haechan felt too big for your coach, you realized, seeing him sitting on the deep dark chairs.

As if knowing to not give you any kind of temptation, there was no bed inside.

You made a mental note to ask Haechan how did the Train knew such stuff.

“I am as unprepared as you are,” he spoke after a while, resuming his discourse.

You knew that conversation was due to happen but it didn’t make you feel less nervous.

“My grandfather never mentioned something like this happen to me. He just assumed I might end up seeing someone with no soulmate. My grandmother was one of them and they haven’t separated. Although now I wonder if she met someone else and actively chose my grandfather instead because of some kind of principle sentiment.”

All of that raw information made your heart ache. You’ve never thought about the Conductor’s family growing up. You’ve never ever heard of people with no soulmate whatsoever.

“Would that be that bad?” you asked in a tiny voice.

His eyes were fiery when he looked at you but you knew he wasn’t mad at you. “Would you enjoy the thought of someone being with you because they feel sorry or because of a promise they made although they’re madly in love with someone else?”

You gulped and looked down at your hands in your lap.

“You think that would be our situation?”

The man didn’t reply. You took it for a yes.

“Or are you afraid I’d leave you after a while? Because you think you’re not my actual soulmate?”

“I don’t know,” he exhaled. “You’d think for a Conductor of the Soulmates Train I’d be more well versed in these heart affairs,” he chuckled bitterly.

He closed his eyes and you felt brave enough to stare at his face. You’ve never had the opportunity to see his features for that long. He was so gorgeous that your heart felt like bleeding and the thought of you meeting someone else that would make you feel more than that that felt inimaginable. The thought of him with some other woman felt even worse.

“If I can’t have you-” you started unable to keep your mouth shut. “I think I’ll just not have anyone else. I can’t even imagine-”

The man smiled and opened his eyes. They were the same deep blue that made you feel like suffocating the first time you saw them. “I am flattered you think this way now.”

“I’m not going to change my mind.”

“I love a challenge.”

He was pissing you off. You told him just that.

His laugh was so pristine that you felt a little smile bloom on your face as well.

“Then what? I’ll just finish this Journey and go home? Then I’ll see you next year? Does this make sense to you?” you tried to reason.

His story was so sad that it made your heart bleed but the relief that washed over you felt so good that it was making you dizzy. He was into you too. He could sense your scent too. He desired you too. You would not let him go away.

“Sounds good,” he replied with a tiny breathy voice.

You rolled your eyes. “No, it doesn’t.”

“Then what? You wish to stay here with me? Forever? On the Train?” he asked instead.

You bit your lower lip. “Where do you stay when it’s not Soulmates season?”

Haechan sat lower on the chair and his extended and spread legs made you curse at yourself for finding that attractive. “I live on the Train. Always had.”

“You just stay here alone? The whole year?” you leaned in surprised.

The man shrugged. “I had my Grandpa before. It wasn’t that bad. And I don’t know another world besides this one so I don’t miss it.”

“Where is he now?”

Haechan looked towards the window as if actually seeing what was behind that curtain. He probably knew what was behind it, you realized.

“He’s living with my mother. He couldn’t work anymore as he was too old.”

You leaned back in your chair as well and lifted your legs to rest them near him.

Haechan turned his head towards them and lifted one hand, letting his fingers trail the arch of one of them making you twitch.

He looked at your surprised expression and his eyelashes were heavy on his eyes.

Then he inserted two fingers between the hem of one of his white gloves and took it off, letting it fall to the ground. Then he did the same with his other hand.

You couldn’t speak.

No, you couldn’t think.

His fingers were slender and his touch was warm as he caressed your arch again, this time making you fully shiver. Seeing his bare hands shouldn’t have made you feel that way.

“Haechan,” you murmured, maybe as a warning, or maybe because you simply wanted to say his name.

“Y/N,” he said back, taking your feet and placing them on top of one of his thighs. He then looked down at them, slowly touching your ankles too, going up as much as he could reach which was too much for your dizzy head giving the crampness of the coach. You could have sworn it wasn’t so small before.

You hummed as he reached your knee, letting your skirts fall to your thighs in the movement. And when he reached the clasps of your garter keeping the tights up you jolted.

“I don’t think we should be doing this,” your voice wavered.

“I know,” he breathed out, yet his hands didn’t move away and you didn’t push them away either.

They kept going up, over your skirts this time until reaching the back of your corset which was starting to feel way too tight.

Haechan slowly slid down between your legs, on his knees, as if guided by a string coming from inside of you. The view made you mewl and the thought of doing this with anyone besides him sounded abhorrent in that moment.

The first pull made you inhale and put your hands on his shoulders. They felt firm.

The second pull at your corset made you bite your lower lip and Haechan’s pupils darted to it.

“Haechan,” you called out again, this time softly, like a prayer.

“Yes, darling,” he leaned even closer to you, attentive to your expression and reactions.

The pet name knocked the air out of your lungs.

“If-” you swallowed thickly, “if we have to separate-, please, I want-”

Haechan patiently waited for more. His eyes, his fucking eyes, they were so deep, and his lips, so so close to you. You could have just leaned forward and tasted them.

You felt like going insane.

“Remember when you said that you’d-” you changed the route of the phrase thinking it would be easier but you stopped again.

Haechan exhaled and pulled another string from your corset. “What is it that you want?”

“I want you to be my first.”

________

Something inside Haechan’s brain was screaming that it was all a mistake, that he was doing something he shouldn’t have.

But Haechan has been a very good boy his whole life while everyone around him made mistakes with not a single worry in the world. Warm between your legs he didn’t care if he’ll regret it.

But hearing you he stopped, inches away from your mouth. Your heavy breath was matching his and your cleaveage still tightly restricted in that corset made him wonder if you could feel how hard he was against the heavy skirts of your dress.

“I need to hear you ask me again, explicitly, and I need to hear you say that you’re aware this might be a mistake and you might regret it,” he grunted.

You fanned your lashes at him with that pure expression of yours.

“I want you to make me yours and I am aware of all of the consequences,” you murmured.

Your tone and the polite choice of words made him want to scream.

“Please,” you added and Haechan couldn’t take it anymore.

He leaned towards you and grabbed your chin with one hand, tasting the tender skin of your neck instead of your lips.

You exhaled and trembled against him, your pulse beating so fast underneath his tongue that he wondered how plump and wet you were between your legs.

So soft and malleable in his arms you let him gently push you into the bed that materialized underneath you.

________

The Conductor’s eyes were so deep that they looked almost black. His body felt so good on top of yours that you wondered if he could let his weight down even more to fully engulf you with his presence.

You couldn’t imagine feeling such intensity with someone else. He didn’t trust you with your feelings but the moment his lips pressed on yours you were sure he had to be your soulmate or nothing in life would have made sense.

And when you finally slid your hands in his hair you found it was as soft as you imagined.

His wet velvety tongue on your throat made you mewl in ways you’ve never heard yourself sound before.

Then he kissed your boiling skin on your clavicle and when he reached the swell of your breasts you felt on fire.

“Hng,” you whimpered, feeling his warm and wide palms press on your waist and slide underneath until he pulled up to sit. He never stopped kissing your body, not even when he pulled harshly at the corset strings to finally undo it.

You gasped at the sudden freeing sensation and shyly let your arms up for him to drag it up and let it fall to the side.

He cupped your free breasts soon after under the thinner dress material and you threw your head back.

Not in a million years you would regret that. It wasn’t possible.

And when your back hit the mattress again Haechan finally kissed you, slowly, brushing your lips together first, then delicately taking your upper lip between his, letting you taste his bottom one. Your fingers deepened the pressure on his shoulders the same moment you felt his tongue nudge at your mouth. You opened further and timidly let yours meet his. It tingled all over your body and when he slid it fully inside your mouth you moaned.

You couldn’t breathe nor think. You couldn’t even move.

Was this the love everyone was talking about? Because you were starting to understand.

In that moment it didn’t matter what you two would end up doing. The only thing you could concentrate on was the ardent kiss and his hands on your arms, reaching up to slid the dress straps off your shoulders.

Then he touched the spot with his lips and you finally gasped, taking in as much air as you could, extending your neck in the opposite direction, giving him more space to fully drive you crazy.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he murmured against your skin as you twitched ever so slightly. Your breast was almost bare and the thought of him seeing you as no one had before made your nipples poke the dress fabric until it hurt.

“Tell me to stop anytime and I will,” he added.

“I don’t want you to stop. Please,” you found yourself saying.

________

You were so warm. You were warm and soft and Haechan desired you so much that he had to bite his lower lip almost to blood to prevent himself from devouring you completely.

Insane, he thought, you were insane to ask him to fuck you like that, and he was also insane for going with it.

His cock was so hard that it was painful and he imagined you felt the same, so he leaned down and wet your hard nubs making you gasp so deliciously that he made a mental note to do it often.

The thoughts of that being your first time together but maybe also the last was banging into his brain but he decided to ignore it. Your little sounds were grounding him and the way your breast felt underneath his hands, overflowing between his fingers as he squeezed just added to his brain haze.

He was starting to feel feverish and if he didn’t ended up with his mouth between your legs soon he thought he was going to go insane.

Your hands on his shoulders made shivers go down his spine and when they moved to his hair, he hummed with your nipples against his tongue.

He wanted to make you feel good, he wanted to make you feel so fucking good.

And he told you, murmuring it on top of your skin, sliding down your torso and letting your scent and warmth guide his clouded brain.

Haechan took your dress with him and when he couldn’t take it anymore he lifted himself on his knees and dragged it up your legs, throwing it as far as he could.

Your chest was falling and dropping so fast underneath him and he took a moment to enjoy the view, letting his gaze caress you where his hand was, slowly from your ribcage down your navel until reaching the slit between your legs.

You gasped, the little O on your face making his almost growl.

“Have you ever touched yourself before, darling?” he asked with a voice he barely recognized.

You shivered and he leaned back down to shelter you with his body, his hand still lazily drawing circles around your plump and soaked clit.

__________

You tried to hide your face in the crook of his neck but he was quicker.

You couldn’t believe you were completely naked in front of the man you desired so desperately. Was that the cruel joke of the destiny? Giving you all before taking it away from you?

Haechan kissed your lips, this time deeply and rougher than the first. Then he breathed on them. “Answer me,” he demanded.

You melwed, unable to think. His fingertips were so delicate and gentle that they almost weren’t there, yet you felt them so well that you couldn’t concentrate on anything else.

“Only outside,” you admitted.

Haechan rubbed his nose against your cheek. “I thought you were a curious person. You never felt the need to know how it feels inside?”

You swallowed thickly. Not in your most depraved thoughts you imagined a gentleman talk to you like that. And you loved it.

“I was afraid,” you admitted.

Haechan hummed, kissing slowly alongside your neck then licking your ear. “You’re so sensitive. Were you afraid it was going to hurt?”

You nodded as a reply.

“Are you afraid now?” he looked you in the eyes, his fingertips never stopping for a moment.

“No,” you whispered.

Haechan’s wet lips were open as if to let more air get inside his lungs and the thought of you being the cause to that decadent expression made the wetness between your legs just get worse.

You bit your lower lip, wondering if he noticed and when he dropped his hand by a mere centimeter you could feel his finger nudge at your hole and collect every drop of it.

You closed your eyes in embarrassment, clasping the material of his shirt on his bicep, and it just made Haechan more eager to rub your clit in ways you never even thought of.

“Show me,” he said, his voice so thick and rough that you felt like swimming in it. “Show me how you touched yourself.”

“Please,” you begged unsure yourself for what.

“Don’t be shy. Put your hand on top of mine and guide me, love,” he murmured with a twinkle in his eyes that made your insides burn.

You let one of your hands slide down his arm and you reached the back of his hand between your legs. It felt so erotic that you felt like combusting.

“Yes, just like that,” he prompted you, his lips now back on your chest, gently biting the softness of your flesh.

You gulped and pressed your fingers on top of his, moving them in little circles you knew felt good. Haechan hummed. “Yeah? Do you like it like this?”

The little nod you gave him made him smile. Then it turned into something more ferocious.

“What about this?” he changed the movement, his fingers now gently flicking your nub up and down as well, pressing a bit more that you did it yourself, sending jolts of pleasure across your body.

“Yes,” you stuttered.

“Yeah?” he spoke in the crook of your neck. “Did you make yourself cum as well?”

You threw your head back at the sensation and his tone and his words didn’t help you feel grounded at all. “A few times.”

Or at least you thought you did. Because the way Haechan was making you feel didn’t even come close to the way you managed to make yourself feel alone.

“May I?” his words buzzed against your lips, so polite in contrast with the way his fingertip felt like nudging at your core.

You bit your lower lip and Haechan rubbed his lips on you as a in invitation to bite his lip instead. You inhaled and nodded, pressing your hand on top of his.

He sucked the air between his teeth and kissed you deeply, letting his tongue smack against yours in the wettest and most desperate kiss.

And when you felt his finger slide inside of you it felt so overwhelming that you clenched so hard he had to break off the kiss to shush you. “You need to relax for me, baby, yeah?”

You felt your whole body shake and Haechan kissed the corner of your mouth then your cheek, doing on your jaw and neck.

“It’s going to feel very good, I promise,” he murmured against your clavicle. “That’s right,” he exhaled, feeling your melt in his hold. “My sweet sweet girl, just like that.”

The praise went to your head so badly that you almost didn’t realize the way he managed to move inside and out of you slowly and when he reached a specific spot and curled his finger upwards you jolted in place, grabbing his shoulders with a strong grip, the moan that escaped your throat probably loud enough to wake up the neighbouring passengers.

“You like that, darling?” Haechan kept fucking you on his finger until you couldn’t close your mouth, the sensation sending the most intense jolts of electricity up your legs and torso.

“Fuck,” you exhaled and Haechan chuckled.

“Yeah? My lady became this dirty for me?”

“Shit,” you couldn’t stop yourself. “Oh, heavens.”

The wet sounds and Haechan’s quick breaths made you curl your toes, and when he stopped his hand and you felt his finger exit you mewled a protest.

“More, please?”

Haechan gave you a cocky smile, lifting himself on his knees in front of you and letting you stare at the way he took off his jacket then slowly, so fucking slowly, he unbuttoned his shirt.

His pristine skin peeking underneath the white fabric made your mouth water and you had to sit down as well, leaning in and pressing your lips on his chest.

________

Haechan exhaled and cupped the back of your head and when he felt your delicate fingers open the rest of his buttons he thought he’d cum on the spot.

Your touch was heaven on his chest and your lips started to get too low, very low, down his abdomen until reaching the band of his dress pants.

Your ass was full on display the way your were crouching on all fours and when you lifted your gaze up, your mouth so close to the tip of his clothed cock, he reached and gave you a light spank that made your eyes shine and your tender throat mewl.

He desperately wanted his cock down that throat but he knew it would be insanity.

So he grabbed your chin instead and pulled you upwards to kiss your mouth again, and this time when he pushed you into the mattress he didn’t care to be gentle.

The grunt that left your chest made him worried that he had been too harsh but the way your grabbed his hair and pulled him into the kiss again, wrapping your thighs around his waist told him you weren’t a porcelain doll.

And when he left your gasping mouth to devour your cunt the moan you made and the way your body curved almost broke him.

“Haechan,” you called out and he has never heard someone pronounce his name in a sexier way.

He hummed back, deeply, licking a stripe up from your hole to your clit and resting on it heavily before rolling the tip around it, tasting you, flicking it until he felt your nails dig in the forearm he snaked around one of your thighs.

He pressed his palm on your lower stomach and the way you inhaled deeply made him suck ever more.

________

Legs around his head - the Conductor’s head - and his mouth on you, his arms around your limbs and his scent all over your body, you’ve never felt more ready to die.

“God,” you moaned, shaking in his hold so much that he added more pressure on your hips and when you felt his fingers nudging at your hole again, this time two of them, gently pushing past the rim, you grabbed the sheets underneath your until you had no more strength.

“Please please please,” you mumbled, his fingers hooked in so deliciously that you couldn’t see anymore. You had no idea there was such pleasure out there.

Haechan hummed, almost growled, his mouth full of your and his deep blue eyes staring at you with such intensity that you just had to let go or you would go insane.

“I feel-” you tried, your voice rough.

The man let your clit go for a mere second. “Yeah? Come on, cum for me darling. Come on, my love.”

It was like a switch, his tongue back on you and his fingers stretching you so well that you could only bury your had in the pillow and scream, coming undone until the only thing you could hear was your own breaths and the gentle rumbling of the Train underneath you.

Haechan’s little kisses made your shaking thighs relax and you realized you were clasping his wrist so you let go with trembling fingers.

“My good good girl,” he came towards you, peppering kisses all over your body, his fingers still deep inside of you, feeling the way you kept rhythmically clenching around them.

His lips were wet and red when he reached your mouth.

You exchanged a deep look that made all the hairs on your body rise and when he kissed you slowly and you tasted yourself on his tongue you felt like pouty in his arms.

“I want to make you feel good too,” you whispered against his lips.

Haechan hummed and slid his fingers out, making you hiss. Then with his wet hand he grabbed yours gently and directed it towards his pants.

“Open the buttons,” he ordered and you gulped, sliding your second arm between your bodies and obeyed, opening them one by one and feeling the heat coming from his body.

“Now touch me,” he breathed against your temple and you felt like rolling your eyes back from the sheer intensity of that energy.

You looked up and saw the man of your life close his eyes and furrow his eyebrows almost in pain when you caressed his length from tip until base.

“Fuck,” he gulped. “Harder,” his order made you bit your lower lip and you added a second hand, grabbing it loosely and moving them both up and down.

Haechan wrapped your hands with his and you inhaled shakily at the darkness of his eyes. He guided you, making you squeeze more until his breath went missing.

“Like this?” you asked. He was hot and hard but so velvety that you were afraid to hurt him.

“Just like that, darling,” he reassured you and when you felt the drops of something sliding under your palm Haechan’s jaw clenched. “You’re making me feel so fucking good, good heavens Y/N.”

You picked up the pace, loving his sounds and his expressions and he groaned.

You wanted more. You needed more.

“Please, I need you,” you murmured against his cheek.

Haechan leaned in and bit down on your neck, sucking on your skin and the sting felt so good that you felt your cunt pool up again. “Say that again, darling.”

You exhaled. “I need you, Haechan, please.”

“Where?” he breathed on your open mouth.

“Inside of me,” you choked on air as he reached down and slid his cock out of your hands with a wince, letting it rest between your fold instead.

“Yeah?”

You nodded and gasped, feeling the heaviness on if rub against your sensitivity.

“I need you to stop me at any given moment of discomfort. Do you understand me?”

His tone and demeanor made you almost chuckle. He drove you crazy.

“Yes, sir,” you whispered and Haechan put his tongue inside his cheek at your choice of words.

He intertwined his fingers with yours while the other hand held the base of his cock to align himself with you.

It was so big and thick, two veins running down it similar to his forearms and it made you swallow dryly at the sinful thought that came inside of your head.

But you felt drunk and you didn’t care.

“I want it in my mouth,” you locked eyes with him and Haechan visibly crumbled between your legs.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he inhaled sharply through his teeth and pushed inside of you slowly making you gasp and squeeze his fingers.

“Mmmm,” you furrowed your eyebrows and Haechan stopped, leaning down to shush you, kissing your neck and guiding your breaths until you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him forward.

“Does it hurt?” he murmured, moving his hips ever so slightly, making more and more space for himself.

“It stings, outside, but it feels good, inside,” your phrases were broken and Haechan chuckled against your lips, giving you a quick kiss that you couldn’t concentrate on as he was getting closer and closer to the spot you oh so desperately wanted him to reach.

“It’s going to feel better soon,” he reassured.

“I know. How does- it feel-for-you?” your tiny voice, stuttering because of his shallow thrusts made Haechan dig his other hand in the mattress.

“It feels like heaven, my darling.”

You hummed and then gasped as Haechan felt you open even more, swallowing him so well that he had to compose himself before he could start losing it and ram inside of you.

“Does the thought of me feeling good turn you on, love?” he grabbed your waist, keeping you in place and finally bottoming out.

Your face scrunched and the moan you let out sounded like music to his ears.

“Haechan-”

“Yeah?”

_______

Your breath was so irregular that you felt not enough oxygen getting to your brain.

There were no words to describe how he felt inside of you, intoxicating, sinful, full, so fucking full, he was all over you, inside your body and mind and heart, you wanted him more and more, you wanted him forever.

You stared at him between your lashes and you hoped he could see all of that. You hoped he could understand how he made you feel and you hoped he felt the same.

“I know, baby,” he shushed you, his hips picked up the pace and he was heavy and deep, the sound of his skin slapping yours making you hide your face into the crook of his neck in shame. He let you do that and lifted your hand above your head, pushing into it as much as he wanted to push into you and couldn’t for fear of hurting you.

Your brain went to the image of him fucking you desperatly and animalistically, fast and with no worry.

You desperately wanted that.

You wanted him again. That couldn’t be the last time you saw each other.

No way.

“Haechan, kiss me, please,” you managed to speak between the gasps.

The man leaned down and kissed you deeply, fucking you both with his tongue and his cock, until you moaned into his mouth.

His eyes were feverish and his forehead shining with a thin layer of sweat.

You let his hand go to wrap his neck and dig your hands in his soft messy hair, not breaking eye contact until with no words you both orgasmed and you lulled each other’s shaking bodies to sleep.

---will continue---

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mandoalorian · 1 year

Text

taste of heaven

Joel Miller x F!Reader [smut]

Summary: You and Joel leave the quarantine zone in search of some medicine, when you come across a variant of the Cordyceps, taking life in the form of a pretty red flower. Whilst exposure to this mutated fungus doesn’t prove fatal, it does have some lasting effects.

Warnings: explicit, no minors. Sex pollen fic, exhibitionism, f!masturbation, fingering, tit play, degradation, jealousy, lots of begging, yearning/pining, implied age gap, mention of drugs/reader being drugged, cursing

Authors note: Please reblog to spread this fic around and it’s not showing up in tags! My requests & commissions are officially OPEN again! If you have any questions drop me a private message.

Masterlist / Want to support me further?

'Nature vs. nurture' has been a discussion which had dominated centuries of wonder, and even in the year 2023, when the world had been wiped clean from humanity and only the hardened walked the streets, it was something that still preyed on your mind. The theory could be applied in many aspects; but one that you couldn’t quite navigate no matter how hard you tried, was how you had lasted this long living in a war-torn world. You often reflected on how you had kept yourself so clean and away from infected and bad people. You figured that for the first few years you had just gotten lucky. Your state was notified of the Cordyceps Infection before it hit and so you were given the opportunity to escape your city early. They were already building Quarantine Zone’s and conscripting Fedra military in August.

Until Christmas 2003, you stuck by your family. They were with you, alive, for the first three months of the outbreak. By this point, the Cordyceps infection wasn’t exactly seen as a ‘permanent’ thing and the government had yet to give up on finding a cure. One by one you lost your parents, grandparents and siblings, but not before you found solitude in a Quarantine Zone northwest of Rhode Island.

Those fragments of peace and liberty lasted a whole three years before Fedra wiped the town clean, and you had no choice but to evacuate. You headed towards Massachusetts, stopping by different QZ's, meeting new folk along your way.

But nothing was permanent. Ten years ago you found a home in Boston Quarantine Zone.

It wasn't a nice place, full of selfish people doing what they needed to do to get by. Rats on every corner, literal and personified, and so you did your best to stay out of trouble.

You’d take on little jobs and run errands to earn ration cards, and you would follow Fedra's orders to a tee. If there was such thing as a 'golden girl' in this world... well, that would be you.

And then you met Joel.

Joel wasn't a good guy, and he made sure you knew that when you first laid eyes on him. He was ruthless; a killer, and the type of person you should’ve stayed away from. You’d survived this long by keeping away from guys like him and yet, you found yourself drawn to him. There was something about his rugged handsomeness and dedication to survival that appealed to you. When you first met him, you noted that he was a man of a few words. He rarely offered you even a glance and if he did give care to give you his time of day, it would be nothing less than to mumble a warning to you.

It took Joel a while to warm up to you. The man seemed more than satisfied with his partner, Tess, than to even want to give you even just a bit of the minimal attention that you craved. You were unsure of Tess. She was very beautiful, with shoulder-length wavy hair and bright green eyes. You wondered if she and Joel were anything serious, or if they were merely just friends, or perhaps something in between. The pair were inseparable and often participated in smuggling runs together, or were hired as bounty hunters.

It was a smokey grey morning when Joel entered the makeshift QZ pharmacy where Fedra had you working. His dark eyes appeared sunken in and tired, a deep frown crossed his lips.

“I need fentanyl, morphine, oxycodone... something to take away pain.”

He was avoidant of eye contact, looking uncomfortable to even have to ask you of this.

Your jaw slackened slightly and you furrowed your eyebrows together at the man's request. “Are you- are you okay?”

Joel scoffed and rolled his tongue over his lower lip. “It’s not for me.” He snapped back, already becoming irritated that you were questioning his request. It had nothing to do with you.

Unamused by his attitude, you decided on shutting him down immediately. “I don't. We don't sell opioids here.” you glanced away from the man, feeling your cheeks become hot under his stern gaze. Now he was making eye contact and he knew exactly how to intimidate you. If Joel was anything, he was determined and if Joel wanted something he made sure he’d get it, no matter the means or consequences.

“Fedra don't permit anything as... strong as that to be traded in the QZ.”

Joel grunted and slammed his fists on the cashier desk. “Don't play coy with me, girl,” he sneered, hissing through his teeth. “can’t have been the first person to come in and ask for this. You have to know where I can get it from.”

You swallowed, looking around the empty pharmacy for answers. “I know someone,” you said timidly. “Well, know of someone.”

“Take me to them.” Joel demanded, without missing a beat. His desperation was becoming clear.

Seeing your hesitation, Joel brought his fingers down to the pistol that he'd stuffed in the back of his jeans, having been used to being able to make a sufficient threat. But then, before making any rash judgement, he stopped himself and placed a hand on the desk in front of you. He couldn't hold you at gunpoint. You were sweet, kind, and soft. In the many years of knowing him, you had been nothing but nice to Joel. It would be wrong to scare you like that.

Adjusting his composure, Joel took a deep breath and let his body relax. He could ease up around you. You wouldn't even hurt a fly; let alone pull any stunts on someone like him.

“Please." he said quietly, his brown eyes now appearing to be more pleasing than harsh. He could read you like an open book and he knew exactly how to wrap himself around you. You huffed out a sigh and contemplated giving him the information that he so desired.

“There's a guy I've heard Simone talk about. He's housed up on the outskirts of Boston, about a three-hour hike from here. He's her dealer. He'll have what you're looking for, but Joel…" you reluctantly placed your hand down on top of the desk, next to his. “It's in Fairmount. But I don't feel comfortable leaving the QZ. I could get in trouble. And if this is for you— or your own personal dealing, then—”

And for the first time in weeks, Joel's lips curled into a small smile. He moved his hand over yours and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“You'll be okay,” he promised, and from the longing look in his eyes, you believed him.

“Can I ask, who is the medicine for?” you interrogated shyly after a few moments of silence. Joel's rough hands were still atop yours.

Joel broke eye contact with you. If he wanted you to be fully on board, then he had to start being honest. “Tess.”

“Is she okay?” you became alarmed, moving your hand away from Joel and already beginning to grab your supplies for the journey.

“She got into a fight with Robert and his men, she's badly beaten up. She just needs something strong to help her fight through it. She'll be okay. She's tough.” Joel wanted to curse himself for offering you so much information, knowing that Tess would've been mortified if she'd learned that he was telling you all of this. But he really needed your help.

“We best get going then,” you said, grabbing your rucksack from behind the countertop.

For a brief second, Joel admired your dedication to helping Tess. It bewildered him a little, knowing that Tess didn't exactly care enough about you to help you the same. Tess often muttered snide words about your inability to shoot a gun or your law-abiding attitude. She hated the way you would sink under authority, but Joel understood it. He understood that everyone had their different ways of surviving, and as long as it was working, then he wasn't one to judge. But right now, that didn't matter. Joel was just thankful that you'd agreed to go with him.

———

Somewhere along the journey, you noticed a shrub peppered with four-petaled flours, painted red with golden pollen in the centre. You’d never seen anything like them before, and you had studied horticulture a few years back in Rhode Island QZ. You found yourself magnetised by their beauty, and with Joel a few yards back from you, you decided to take some time to analyse the plant. Picking one from the bush, you rubbed the soft petals between your fingers and let the grains of pollen sink into your skin. When Joel got nearer, you stuffed the flower in your jacket pocket and continued walking alongside him.

You were about an hour away from Fairmount when you started to get dizzy. You weren’t hallucinating but your perception of your surroundings had certainly changed. The road ahead seemed short and thick and upon the horizon was a glowing pink line.

“Do you see that?” You asked Joel, squinting your eyes as you extended your hand to point to the horizon.

Joel tried following your moving index finger but shook his head. “You’re pointing at everything and nothing. C’mon let's keep going.”

It started out with a burning sensation, your loins ignited and blazed inside of you. You tried to regulate your breathing and found yourself slowly losing concentration on whatever Joel was saying. You wanted to pay attention, you really did. You loved his voice, it was like honey and velvet and there was something about that damned Texan accent of his… you didn’t notice it before, but you were certainly noticing it now. Your nipples felt tender as they hardened and poked out from underneath your shirt and you silently prayed that they weren’t visible through your denim jacket. The air around you was suddenly humid and thick and moist. Moist… you let out a small whimper and stopped dead in your tracks.

Joel stopped too. “Are you okay?” he asked, observing your sudden reaction to the forbidden flower.

“I just need a second to catch my breath.” You exhaled, closing your eyes and desperately trying to cling onto oxygen. Joel glanced back at the trail you’d both been walking along. There had hardly been an incline.

Joel gave you a few moments and when you finally opened your eyes, you offered him a queasy yet confident smile.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Mhm,” you mumbled. “Let’s keep going. Nearly there now. What were you saying about the—ah, fuck.” You stopped again, feeling a sudden wetness in your panties. Bolts of electricity were shooting up and down your body and within just a matter of seconds, you felt the primal need for something to fill you.

You looked at Joel and then looked away.

Joel said your name softly, drawled it out slowly like he was trying not to spook you. You refused to make eye contact with him, looking down at your feet.

“Don’t lie to me,” Joel said. He placed a hand on your arm and you flinched away from him. “What’s going on?”

You bit your lip, pressing your thighs together hoping for some kind of relief to the ache between your legs. You’re looked around your surroundings, finding a large rock just a few acres away. Ignoring Joel, you sat down and he followed you on your tail.

This was embarrassing. This was so embarrassing.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” you admitted, dabbing at the beads of sweat that laced your hairline. “I feel hot and heavy and it’s hard to breathe, I feel like my clothes are constraining me and I’m… I feel…”

Joel crooked his head to one side.

“Joel,” you whispered. “Fuck Joel, fuck…” you hissed through your teeth. “Joel, Joel…” you panted his name like it was a sacred prayer. Joel would’ve been lying if he said hearing you chant his name like that didn’t turn him on.

Extending your arms, you reached out towards the man. He obliged, coming closer and kneeling down in front of you. He placed both of his hands on your thighs to illustrate comfort and gazed into your eyes.

“What is it?” he quizzed further.

You nervously swallowed and reached into the pocket of your denim jacket before bringing out the now crumpled-up flower you’d picked earlier. The pale yellow pollen slipped between your fingers and you dropped the flower on the floor. Upon seeing it, Joel’s dark eyes widened and he leaned away from you.

“No, no, no,” you begged him, opening your legs and pulling him back into you, this time holding him as close as could be. “Fuck Joel, I— I don’t know— I don’t know what’s happening,” you squeaked, tears filling your eyes.

“Oh, sweet girl,” he shushed, but there was no denying the slight air of worry sprawled across his face. “What have you done?”

“I think it’s the flower… I just picked it up earlier because I thought it was pretty and, figured I could make a hair clip out of it or—“

“I’ve heard stories about those flowers,” Joel shook his head. “They’re a mutated form of Cordyceps… a variant that’s been growing like ordinary fungus, in environments, masking themselves as plants. I’ve never seen them before but… that’s what I’ve heard they look like.”

“Holy shit,” you whispered. “Am I infected?”

“No! No, no girl. You’re fine. You’re gonna be fine. These plants… they’re known to have a primal effect on their host. They want their host to reproduce so they release endorphins and, I… don’t know the science behind it but,”

“Joel,” you whispered. “Joel…” your voice trailed off, bringing your hands up to his cheeks as you cradled his face. Your thumbs brushed over his stubble which adorned his jaw and you admired the little missing patch of hair there that you’d never noticed before. “I’m fucking horny.” you breathed into admittance.

If you weren’t so worked up right now, you would’ve barked out a laugh at how ridiculous those words sounded leaving your lips. Joel swallowed, his adam’s apple bopping up and down in his throat. You licked your lips and waited for him to say something— anything. But he stayed quiet, only the slightest movement in his hand as he brought it to the inside of your thigh.

You tossed your head back at the gesture and Joel felt his cock throb in his pants at the sight of you coming undone over him. He noted the vein in your neck and the way your perfect lips parted in an O shape as he trailed his other hand up your waist and along your torso to the hem of your jacket.

“We don’t have to do anything, we don’t have to… I’ll be okay if you just give me some privacy and I can… I can… you know,”

“You need me and you know it,” Joel said gruffly, peeling back your jacket and letting it pool into a discarded pile on the floor. You already felt an air of relief wash over you as you lost an item of clothing. You hummed and leaned in closer to him, pressing your breasts which were now tight against your shirt into his face. “Say it.”

“I need you Joel,” you obliged. “Fuck, I need you so bad.”

“Tell me what exactly you need, baby girl,” Joel requested, bringing his hand to your breasts and massaging them through the material of your shirt. He pinched his finger over your protruding nipples and circled around them. He imagined nibbling it and sucking on them, and his mouth began to water.

“I need you, need your cock to fill me up. I want to wrap myself around you, tight, oh God, please,” you begged, grinding on the rock beneath you. The friction between the rock and jeans have you something, but it wasn’t enough. Joel discarded his jacket and unbuttoned his flannel shirt, throwing them to one side on the floor.

“You want me that bad huh?” Joel chuckled, reaching down to his belt and unbuckling it. With a clink, that was on the floor too.

“Need,” you corrected him. “This— this is fucking— fuck— I should be embarrassed.”

“But you’re not, because behind that sweet, good girl persona, you’re just a dirty, unfulfilled whore.” Joel seethed. If you didn’t know any better, you might’ve thought that was an insult, but his degradation only spurred you on more and you let out a moan.

“Your whore,” you told him with a smile. You stood up and pulled down your jeans so you were now sat on the rock wearing nothing but your t-shirt and panties. Your legs still open, you dropped your hand to your crotch and started to rub yourself through the material of your panties.

“Ah-ah,” Joel chastised, taking your hand away from your aching pussy and interlocking his fingers with yours. “Look how wet you are. From now on, only I’m allowed to touch you, okay?”

“Mm, sounds like you want me just as much as I want you,” you teased him, even surprising yourself at that little comment which escaped your lips.

“I do,” Joel answered, bringing your hand down to his own crotch, allowing you to feel his bulge that was straining through his jeans. As if that wasn’t proof enough.

“What about Tess?” you couldn’t help but ask. Even while you were in heat, you found yourself thinking about what Joel and Tess got up to. What exactly their ‘partnership’ amounted to.

Joel smirked and pressed a kiss into the crook of your neck. “You jealous?” he mumbled against your skin. The low octave of his voice sent vibrations through your body. He licked a stripe down to your collar bone.

“Nuh-uh,” you shook your head.

Every touch of his left a stain of fire.

“I think you are,” Joel teased. “You get jealous thinking about me fucking Tess— bending her over and taking her from behind.”

You groaned. “Fuck you,” you whined, running your fingers through his greying brown hair.

“Wouldn’t you like that?” Joel chuckled.

Then, something caught your attention. You were drugged— ‘under the influence’— if you wanted a nicer way to put it. You wanted Joel but you had that damn mutated flower to blame, and yet Joel… this was raw. This was all him. He had nothing to blame other than himself because the truth is, he’s wanted you from the moment he laid eyes on you.

“I fuck Tess,” he announced and you felt your face sour at his declaration. “But I wish it was you every damn time.”

You huffed as you let him take off your t-shirt. His eyes widened when he saw you weren’t even wearing a bra.

“Somehow I doubt that,” you muttered with a roll of your eyes.

“Let me prove it to you.” Joel replied, this time his words holding the utmost meaning.

Joel unzipped his jeans and pulled them down to his knees, alongside his boxer shorts, revealing his long, thick cock. It was perfect, the dark pink head already leaking with milky white trails of precum.

“You’re huge.” you couldn’t help but gasp out, making Joel laugh. You immediately eased at the sound of his chuckle. It wasn’t teasing or fake, but it was genuine and authentic. Dare you say, cute.

But the little butterflies that fluttered in the pit of your stomach were short-lived. Your loins ached even more just at the mere sight of him and you eagerly ditched your panties within seconds. Leaning back, you made yourself as comfortable as you could be atop of the rock and spread your legs for him. What a sight to behold, you were.

Joel admired your glistening folds as he eye-fucked your entire naked body. You brought your hands to your tits and began to play with them as you let him observe you.

“Please Joel,” you begged. “Let me feel you.”

Joel hovered over you and pressed his cock between your folds, rubbing the tip up and down, separating you. Obscene and lewd wet noises filled the quiet atmosphere as Joel gathered your juices on his manhood.

“Such a pretty pussy,” Joel sighed, before bringing a thumb to your clit. He began to draw circles over the bundle of nerves, causing your body to jolt with the overbearing rush of pleasure. You knew you wouldn’t last long and you could feel your orgasm begin to creep upon you. But you needed more.

“Fuck me Joel, I need you inside of me.”

“Like this?” Joel asked and with one smooth motion, Joel thrusted his cock inside of you, your wet walls squeezing around him. “Oh shit.” he croaked out, taking a moment to adjust himself to the ethereal feeling of you wrapped around him.

“Yes, just like that,” you praised. “Move now, please.”

For the first time, Joel followed your instruction without any tormenting or teasing. He’d wanted this just as bad as you did. Joel rocked his hips into you, building up a rhythm that you just couldn’t resist. His movements began to set out a pace but in time he quickened himself, focusing on getting closer to his high as he felt your own body quiver and shake underneath him. You knew he was close when his thrusts became sloppy and he chanted your name under his breath.

Joel delved his face into your neck and you screamed as your climax came crushing down. Joel felt it too— the effect of your orgasm and what it had done to your body. Without any warning, Joel shot ropes of his cum into your pussy before slowly pulling out of you. The warmth of his seed painting your walls was enough to help you come down from your high.

Joel rolled off you and laid next to you, atop of the rock.

The sky was growing dark now and nightfall was approaching.

“Thank you.” you whispered when you regained your breath. You let yourself have a few moments to try and come to terms with what had just happened. By far, the best experience of your life.

Joel leaned over onto his side and looked at you, feeling completely enamoured with your beauty. You were still flushed and sweating but the effects of the flower had worn off now, and you were doing much better.

“Before, when I said I thought of you when I was with Tess… I wasn’t lying,” Joel admitted. “I don’t want you to think…”

You smiled, tangling your fingers into his hair and pushing his face down to meet yours. You offered him a soft, tranquil kiss and Joel moaned at the affection. Your lips were so soft, exactly how he’d imagined. If he could, he’d kiss them forever.

“Is she your girlfriend?” you asked after pulling away.

“It’s not like that at all,” Joel replied. “We just… we’re there when we need each other, y’know?”

You nodded your head silently.

“I don’t want this to be a one-time thing,” Joel announced, feeling a rush of nerves and anxiety race through his body. “I mean, not the Cordyceps flower. And not just the sex. But I want to see you again, after today. And I understand if you don’t feel the same way— I know, we’re so different and I ain’t a good guy. Maybe a girl like you would be better on your own, but damn it, I like you and—“

“I like you too,” you cut him off. “Maybe when we get back to Boston, you can take me out on a date?”

Joel grinned, a dimple appearing in his right cheek. There was those butterflies again.

“Alrighty then.” Joel beamed and you pressed another kiss to his lips. “It’s a date.”

-------

taglist: @januarycolor @anapnovo-blog @pardebellesnuits @mi0o@supervengerslock@alitaar@bigpepperpicker@pedrostories@pedroprinces@

#pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal x you #smut #tlou

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heartfullofleeches · 10 months

Text

Playtime

Yan Owner + Dog Hybrid Reader [+18]

Summary: your owner brings home a new toy for you to test out out

Warnings: top reader(sorta), knotting, gender neutral pronouns but reader has peen, dubious consent, degradation/objectifcation (not towards reader), Reader being a horn dog, brief mentions of spit

"Aha!~ Here's a selection from our first time out of the country. My poor pup is such a nervous flyer - but those sparkling beaches at that resort made it all worth while."

Pet Lovers - never thought they'd be one for the list, but given how this night has gone so far - there's a fair chance they'll never date again.

The start of their eve and therelationship as a whole had gone off without a hitch; something straight out of a fairytale. Blair was your average a fresh out of college, straight into retail work joe and their date was.. special. They had seen their soon-to-be partner around the store they worked at a hand full of times before which that person brought when they left a message on Blair's profile. Kind, well dressed and mannered, polite. They were all that and then some. There was a cloud of mystery and hesitancy around them when the two first began chatting which they latter confessed was due to their high ranking roll in their office and being used in the past. During this time they solely went by the initials M.J, which stuck long after things kicked off.

Charismatic as they may have been, M.J was a timid person underneath that brave face. They often apologized through dinner for glancing at their phone, but it was their first date in years which meant they had to leave their dog home with a sitter and they'd never been apart for so long. Figuring they'd be more comfortable talking about something they adored, Blair inquired more about their pet. As an anxious and cautious child, M.J feared other kids in their youth. The only invites they ever received were due to their parents influence and often from people who didn't even go to the same school. It was when they were gifted the cutest little pup for their birthday they understood the true meaning of friendship and even love. Without their pup, everything they've worked for was pointless.

Blair thought the dynamic was adorable - at first. M.J showed them a few pictures of you during their meal and you were as cute and fluffy as they bragged. They even met you when M.J managed to whittle their fears away and convinced them to head home with them after dinner. You we a sweetheart, albeit a little forceful when you all buy bullied them onto the couch - sniffling at their neck as you pinned them to the cushions with your imposing figure. You were a head taller than both them and M.J with the body mass to prove it. They were plucking fur out of their mouth by the time M.J got your attention.

They ushered you off to your room with a hushed promise they've kept to before - tender hands stroking your need once out of company as a soft, impatient whine leaves you. "Hush, hush. Playtime will be soon. Be patient, my love - and dont break this one too soon."

Blair thought that would be the end of everything revolving around you. The pair settled down for the eve with a bottle of something older than their great-grandparents and M.J seemed invested in all things Blair. Their hopes, dreams, fears - M.J urged and persuaded them to talk more about themselves than their therapist and even their parents ever could. That charming smile, the small, affirming nod when Blair flew off their rocket and the reassurance their feelings were valid when they apologized for their outbursts was nothing they'd witnessed from past failed attempts at love. They connected with M.J more than they had with anyone in their entire life which is why when they suggested taking things up to the bedroom - Blair agreed.

For someone would hadn't been on many dates, M.J had quite the skills when came down to business. Blair was stripped off their clothing while they remained fully dressed before the pair made it through the door. M.J opted to get things underway right in the hall, purged forward by Blair's recognition of the name scribbled on the opposite door. Inside the guest room, M.J paused to marvel at Blair's features as they guided them into bed, laying their datemate onto their side and pulling their leg back over their clothed lap. A hand cupped beneath the beat of their chest and fingers ghosting their sex between their thighs Blair believed things were finally turning up for them-

"Oh! There's still a few photos I forgot to show you at the restaurant. Do you mind?"

Until that. For the past God knows how long, Blair had been subjected to photos upon photos of M.J's most valued memories presented in accordingly dated folders centered around none other than you. Various classes, birthdays that time you tried to bake them a cake a nearly burned down the house. M.J was more focused on the past than the very real present coupled with their digits still shoved inside another as they rambled on like they weren't even there. Blair attempted to ignore all and center themselves on the foreplay, but your increasing lose of clothes as the gallery went on made it hard to look away.

"Hey... nor trying to be a drag or anything, but - can we look at this after we're done?"

The gentle smile against their skin hardens. M.J hums, tracing the outline of their shoulder with their lips. "Hm..Alright, I just have one more video to show you. I thought my sweet pup I was going on a date and they wanted to film something a little special for you."

"I...fine.." Blair snuggles into their warmth as the video plays. It starts relatively normal with the camera person traversing the hall they'd just traveled up to the door with your name on it. Each step brought more attention to the sounds of baited breath and whines, and the lewd snap of skin against skin. The door opens to reveal a frenetic hybrid pressing the face of their caretaker into their bed, fingers tangled through their hair as the claws of their free hand dug into their toy's ass. The human squealed and gasped through the hybrid's rapacious vigor - bed frame quaking with every spring from the hulking figure's hips as the bulb at the base of their cock rammed against the human's ass treading entry into their prepped hole. The caretakers hands had been tied with some kind of rope dog toy and their hair was plastered to their face from sweat, bite marks and scratches littering their skin. The camera person walks over and grabs the caretaker by the hair to allow the hybrid ful control of their limbs - wearing the same gloves M.J had removed before climbing into bed.

With a gentle coo, M.J points the camera at your face as you kiss, extending into a muddled whimper on your end as your knot slips in. They stroke your ears as your body trembles from the overload - suckling your swinging tongue as you fuck deeper into your favorite doll. M.J fakes a gasp, yanking at your collar a lightly as possible.

"Y/n! You know you're not supposed to too harsh on your playmates. We couldn't want to break them, now would we?"

All you give in terms of acknowledgement to their scold is the confused tilt of your head and pout of your lips, eyes clouded with lust and the faint idea of your wrongdoings. M.J chuckles, lifting your caretaker's head as they lower the phone back down to them. "But given how long they've been with us, I'm sure a little rough housing won't do too much harm."

Their face was covered in spittle, tears, and the drying remnants of rounds prior to M.J's arrival. M.J collects the mixture from the corner of their mouth and smears it over their plump lips, your caretaker taking the hint and opening their mouth for M.J to wipe their tainted thumb on their tongue. M.J grins at their obedience, ruffling their hair as they stand straight.

"Working hard for that paid vacation, ain't cha? Our sweet pup's gonna miss ya. You know how their cycles get this time of year."

You grunt - hooking your arms around their waist as you lower your weight down on them; effectively trapping them into bed and with you for the near future. M.J's brow twitches, fingers ripping a few strands of their hair. "Now, now - sweetheart. Your favorite toy had given recommendations for a new pet while they're away. What was their name again?"

A meek voice crawls from their bruised throat. "Bl...air... We went to college together. They've only been with like three guys as far as I know, and I heard they're getting evicted next month."

"Excellent. Printed a copy of their work photo while I was in the office, but it never hurts to check. Angel, will this one be alright for you?"

You lift up as your owner pulls out the picture. Inspecting the image, your knot pops from your current caretaker's stretched hold as you rock back on your legs. Settling the picture down before your release, spurts of your rich spend drown sight of the smiling face presented. Panting, you admire your handiwork and the glimpse as what the face underneath might look like coated in your speed. Grinning from ear to ear, you nod eagerly at your owner.

"Wanna play with them. Please lemme play. I'll be good, promise. Please? It hurts when I have to play by myself. I'll treat them good, I swear."

Leaping off the bed to beg your pushover owner, the video ends on the cum-stained photograph.

"What.... the actual fuck."

A soft scratch at the door. M.J sits up to address their humble guest. "It's unlocked, sweetie, come on in.... They're almost ready for you."

Pillow tucked between your legs and ears flat agains you skull, you enter the room in nothing but a tee shirt and pure drive. The shirt rode your backside due to your fluffy tail and the oozing tip of your already erect prick swoll from its hem. The moonlight highlighted that same animalistic desire in your eyes mirrored in the video and the saliva dripping from your teeth and lips. Blair sizes the silhouette of your cock to the fingers still wedged inside them. Without including the growth at its base it had to be twice their width the a sizeable length. The arousal in their nether reigions at the curiosity of taking on such a beast was almost painful.

Their head swims. "What's.... going on?"

"Pretty..." You slur, grinding against your spare pillow as you devote their naked form with your eyes. "wanna play..."

M.J finally unplugs their fingers from Blair's sex and retrieves a towel from the nightstand. They wipe down their entire arm as they stare Blair down, rolling their sleeves back down to their wrists.

"Blair... I need you to listen to me, and listen carefully. From the very second you walked through my front door... no, when you responded to my messages your life was no longer yours. Your hopes, dreams, and ambitions mean about as much as that cheap fragrance you wear. In all honesty, you really aren't much seeing as I could find a dozen more like you, but so long as you keep my pup happy and drained, you might finally have a purpose in that sad, miserable life of yours. The pay is far better and you get to care for the world's most precious pup. Doesn't that sound like a great deal? I'll do everything I can to make sure they don't harm you considering its your first time with them."

Blair felt tears catching in their lashes. They couldn't tell what was worse; the fact their amazing date only went out with them to find a new bitch for their pet - or in the span of this reality shattering new they'd imagined being plowed in ten different positions and speeds by that very same hound. Contemplating their choices from their first day to everything leading to this fucked up night, another mistake was common goal for them to take.

"If...their knot goes in - I want a bonus."

For the first time since they looked anywhere but you, M.J's smile met their eyes. "That's the spirit. Sweetheart?"

Given the go ahead, your reserve snaps. Leaping onto the and between their legs, you spread them as their elasticity would allow and sink in halted from burying yourself at full depth due to the thickness of your knot. Clawing a grip on the fat of their thighs you huff in frustration - bulb stretching their entrace wider with no real entry as it pops right back out with each aggravating trial. Channeling your irritation, your owner props themselves behind you and slinks their arms around your chest - ushering a swarm of kisses to your sweaty face and jaw before cradling their lips at your ear.

"Now, now - what have I told you about rushing things? I know you haven't had any help for two days but work is very demanding. I promise we'll have next summer all to ourselves, but I'll make it up to you as i can now."

M.J inserts two fingers from their unused hand into your mouth, gathering - and lathering your viscid drool around your knot. Easing you forward, your owner instructs you to keep a strong hold on Blair's tensing limbs as they slam against you from behind, rocketing your well lubricated shaft inside their tight walls. Impossible to pull out with them clenching around you, you shoot shallow thrusts into the squirming body beneath you as your owner praises you for your patience. Your size had already filled them fuller than any of their past partners and at this stage they felt bloated. M.J pins one of their ankles down as they kiss at your neck, biting softly at the small howl you mewl from the pleasure at both ends.

"My poor, sweet puppy~ Always in these nasty heats that give you quite the temper when you don't have a playmate. It hurts sometimes- I know, but you're doing so good for me right now. I'll wake up bright and early so we can have breakfast together before I start work."

Blair couldn't focus on much with your cock spearing their body numb and mind blank, but it was clear that to at least one here they were no longer a living, breathing human being with hopes and a family to return home to. A hole for you to dump your cum into and place aside until you needed them again. An object. A toy - that's what M.J saw them as.

"G..nhh.." Eyes rolling back, their walls hug your tender girth as your ceaseless pounding rocks them through their peak. Shaking free of your owner's touch you press down on them in a full mating, tongue licking their face and teeth as their hands beat at your sides, falling slack as your knot slips free only to screw back into their puffy hole - swelling as your grunts drown out their babbles. You cup their head into your hand away from the headboard as you knock them against it and into the mattress. Your lips draw closed and pursed as if going in for a kiss - only for you to spit directly in their mouth instead. They flinch.

"Sorry...M says I can't kiss my toys even those I really want sometimes and doing that is better, but apparently that's what some of you humans prefer. Maybe this would be nicer for you--"

Holding their jaw, you stick out your tongue and suspend the muscle over their face as a glob of spit beads down into their gaping mouth and over their lips. You rub the excess into their skin - throwing their head back against the pillow as your hand subconsciously latches around their neck; relaxed. Your toy struggles for a proper breath despite zero restrictions to their airways mainly due to your weight and the fervency of your thrusts. Looking back with unsure eyes, they fall on your owner for guidance.

"Gonna cum.... where should I....."

"Wherever you please. Mark your new territory."

You nod slowly as you return your gaze back to the human. Groping their hips, you lift your toy's lower body off the bed to your lap as you piston inside them - securing their legs around your waist as your balls tighten, slapping against their plush ass. You kneed the flesh, nipping at their chest as your cock twitches. Your owner running kisses down your spine, you almost instantaneously come undone as you spill deep within the human, waiting a beat for the swell of your knot to go down before you tear your cock out - pulling them beneath you as you stroke your shaft through overstimulation and rushed, less intense but still vicious orgasm over their chest and face; marking them inside and out as your bitch.

Your owner claps, whipping out their phone as they crouch beside the bed. "Oh, Angel! I always forget what a good painter you are! Say cheese!"

"Cheese..." Ears dropping, you smile a wide as your exhaustion would enable; your companion helped into a similar grin by your your owner. After taking a few solo pictures of you, M.J takes a blanket from the end of the bed and drapes it over your shoulders, dragging you to their height with its stretch and kissing your nose.

"Alright, sweetie- you know what time it is. I have to talk to them now so if you start your bath water and let me scrub you down without complaints I'll give you a massage and a treat before bed."

You whine, but skamper off, tail wagging, at the revelation of rewards for playing nice. M.J drops their attention over to Blair who stare back breathless and utterly ruined. M.J crunches some numbers into their phone and holds it out to them. It was hard to make out with their body giving out, but that many zeros could likely pay their rent for the next five months.

"Payment for your first night. Felt a little nice considering you kept quiet for the most. Shower behind that door over there and some spare clothes in the third cabinet on your right when you walk in. Tell anyone about them, you're dead. Kiss them or get too close, your whole family is dead. This is your only chance to back out. Your contract lasts until they grow bored with you or I can't stand the sight of you. If you agree to these terms - welcome to your new life."

#yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere headcanons #yandere #yandere blurb #yandere smut #yandere drabble #tw dubcon #tw dubious consent #amab reader #hybrid reader

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homosexuhauls · 1 year

Text

Diane Clarke was just 10 when she went through two life-changing losses. First, she lost her mother, who was stabbed to death in her own home. Then, she lost her father – the person who had killed her mother.

Pauline Benton, 32, was killed by her husband in 1978 after she told him she was seeing another man. Her death followed a “loveless” marriage in which she was allegedly controlled by her husband, who treated her as though she was a “possession”.

“When we got to the top of our street and there were blue flashing lights, I knew something was up,” Clarke tells The Independent. “All the neighbours were outside the house. There were ambulances and police cars there.”

The now 56-year-old recalls trying to go into her home in Cannock, Staffordshire, but being sent to her neighbour’s instead. Frustrated that nobody would explain what was going on, she had to wait until the next day for her grandfather to tell her news that no child should ever have to hear.

Clarke’s father was charged with her mother’s murder, which he denied, but he admitted manslaughter. He was sentenced at Birmingham Crown Court to three years in prison.

Clarke visited him in jail while living with her mother’s parents. Then, when he was released, she and her brother went to live with him again. As a child who could not fully understand the magnitude of what had happened, Clarke wanted to live with her father again, but now desperately wishes she had remained with her grandparents.

While Clarke’s situation may sound deeply shocking, she is not alone. Men who kill their partners in the UK automatically hold on to parental responsibility for their children – even if they are in prison. It means they remain in control of their children’s lives – including choosing where they live, and deciding on their healthcare needs, for example – unless a court removes parental responsibility.

Jade’s Law

With families up and down the country facing this situation, Labour has lent its backing to Jade’s Law: a proposed piece of legislation that would withdraw parental responsibility from a mother or father found guilty of murdering their child’s other parent.

In its current form, the proposed law – named after 27-year-old Jade Ward, who was stabbed and strangled in her home by her ex-partner Russell Marsh as their four young sons slept – would not cover a situation like Clarke’s, because her father was convicted of manslaughter, not murder.

But the mother of two, now a domestic abuse campaigner, is calling for the law to be broadened in order to cover both crimes when domestic abuse is involved.

‘Play fighting’

Clarke tells The Independent that her mother met another man, which she saw as her “way out” of the toxic relationship with Clarke’s father. It was when she finally plucked up the courage to tell her husband the truth that he turned violent.

A newspaper cutting about the case describes how Benton’s husband – “incensed” at hearing of her six-month affair – “plunged a bread knife into her chest”.

“It was sold in the newspapers and in the court as she asked for it because she had an affair,” says Clarke.

Court reports said Clarke’s father was a “normally placid man”, but a social enquiry report used in the case, seen by The Independent, quotes Benton’s father describing him as a “jealous man” who tended to treat his wife as “a possession”.

Clarke remembers how her father, who was married to her mother for 15 years, would physically fight with his wife until she would go into the bedroom crying. Her father would refer to this as “play fighting”, she says.

“My relationship with my mum wasn’t good, because my dad was getting me to mock her and abuse her as well,” she recalls. “So when he killed her, I missed my dad more than I missed my mum.”

While her father was in prison, Clarke spent her time looking after her mother’s parents, who were “wrapped up in their own pain”.

“They were on Valium. They were drinking,” Clarke recalls. “I was looking after them. They’ve lost their daughter, their daughter has been killed, you know – they’re devastated.”

She says nobody checked to see if she was coping when she started at a new school, and recalls the “traumatic” experience of sitting making a Mother’s Day card, which she addressed to her grandmother.

“I was getting bullied at that school by this time, as well, because I was getting more and more vulnerable. I didn’t tell anybody I was being bullied.”

‘I was having nightmares’

Living with the man who had killed her mother wasn’t easy. Describing the situation after he was released from prison, Clarke says she played the role of mum, doing the cleaning, washing and cooking, and feeling “desperately, desperately alone” while doing so.

“I was having nightmares,” she adds. “Somebody was trying to kill me in the dreams. I’ve always thought ‘I’ve got to be careful what I say or do, because what if he kills me?’ And even though he’s an old man now, I still have that fear.”

After leaving school, she “hit rock bottom”, getting into a relationship with a violent boyfriend and making an attempt to kill herself. Clarke is still vaguely in touch with her father, but effectively considers herself an orphan.

“If I saw him in the street, I would try and avoid talking to him,” she says. “But if I came face to face, the inner child would just be happy and pleasing and say hello and be respectful towards him, because that was the way I survived when I lived with him.”

Speaking to The Independent about Jade’s Law – which was debated in parliament at the end of last year – Ellie Reeves, the shadow minister for prisons and probation, urged the government to take action.

The Labour MP for Lewisham West and Penge, who leads on violence against women and girls in the justice team, said: “It is shocking that, as the law currently stands, killers retain parental responsibility after murdering their child’s mother – enabling them to continually abuse and assert control over their children even from prison.

“Labour has called for Jade’s Law to automatically suspend parental rights for fathers who have murdered their child’s mother. This will put the rights of victims above those of perpetrators, and work to end violence against women and girls. That is how we will prevent crime and protect families.”

A spokesperson for the Ministry of Justice told The Independent: “Judges are required to put the welfare of children first, and can effectively remove all rights and powers from a parent who has murdered the other.”

Responding to the Jade’s Law petition, the government said it recognises that in situations where a parent is convicted of the murder of another parent, the process can be “onerous”.

Dr Adrienne Barnett, who specialised in family law while practising as a barrister for more than 30 years, told The Independent it is “incredibly rare” for a father’s parental responsibility to be withdrawn, “even in the most heinous and harrowing circumstances”.

Hazel Mercer, of Advocacy After Fatal Domestic Abuse, says the families she supports after domestic homicide find the fact that perpetrators still have parental rights “highly traumatic”.

The national domestic abuse helpline offers support for women on 0808 2000 247, or you can visit the Refuge website. There is a dedicated men’s advice line on 0808 8010 327. Those in the US can call the domestic violence hotline on 1-800-799-SAFE (7233). Other international helplines can be found via www.befrienders.org

#femicide #domestic violence #domestic abuse #male violence #radical feminism

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snoozingredpanda · 4 months

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are their any notes or lore facts we can get about dragon culture, I need every crumb of rudy I can get

I’ve been wanting to explain this 😭

Please note this is my dragon universe, not based on anything, although parts have been taken from the omegaverse AU

—

• First thing you’ve gotta know about dragon culture is that they live in clans in a hierarchy. Usually it’s a family, the parents, children, possibly the grandparents, and loners, with the healthiest and strongest couple being the leaders.

• Each dragon is born into a category. Alpha, Omega, or Beta. Betas are pretty much your average dragon. They don’t breed often, but they still find partners, and they never make their own clans, staying with their parents, or joining an existing one as a loner, and helping the clan out with other things such as hunting and grooming.

• Alpha’s are aggressive and dominant. Usually there’s only one fully grown alpha in a clan, who’s in charge, and any children who are alphas are made to make their own clan when they reach maturity. Alphas impregnate, whether they’re born male or female, and go into rut, increasing libido and fertility. Female alphas also grow the required genitals during this time.

• Omegas are the lowest in the strength hierarchy, but they’re also the most treasured. An omega will most likely bond with an alpha and they will produce offspring, and any alpha that has an omega is very protective. They are usually smaller than average dragons, and more submissive in nature. Despite their sex, all omegas have a uterus and can be impregnated. They can be mated by both alphas and betas, but since omegas are more rare than alphas, each omega usually has multiple alphas after them, and the beta won’t really have a chance to court them. Omegas go through heats, which is the same as a rut but hurts a bit more if not tended to. Omegas stay with their clan until they mate with an alpha and start their own clan.

• Rudy is an omega, however she doesn’t live with her birth clan. She simply left them one day because she was neglected and ignored by her clan since she was a mutation.

• You see, each clan has one colour scales. Blue, black, yellow, green, etc. Different colour clans don’t often get along, and Rudy’s clan colour was black, which is regarded as one of the most elite colour dragons. However, Rudy was born with black and red scales, and was simply seen as a bother for years until she decided to leave.

• Now she lives alone and she’s much happier. Although when mating season comes around, alphas barge into her cave trying to mate, only to be met with the sight of Rudy curling up around you, a mere human. Dragons don’t fuck with mated couples, so they’ll simply fly away grumbling.

• Or maybe you are one of those dragons. She rejects everyone because all they want is to have offspring, yet you bring her gifts, shiny gifts that she loves. So she chooses you as her mate, just due to your kindness.

• As for other random dragon facts, they shed every year. Their scales simply fall off and the skin underneath will be all dry and itchy until the new ones grow back. Clans usually groom each other, picking out loose scales to make it a better experience for each other, so if Rudy starts to squirm and itch, help her out, won’t you?

• Nesting is a very important thing for dragons, especially omegas. They’ll spends years building their perfect nest, filling it with stolen items and anything soft. That’s where an omega will want to mate and give birth, it’s their safe space. You have to ask permission to get into their nest, or they’ll go crazy, even if you’ve been mated to them for years. It’s just common courtesy.

• Dragons don’t see gender. All they see is whether someone’s an alpha, omega, or beta. Humans are considered betas.

• Dragons take heartbreak very hard. Some dragons will literally die of sadness if their mate passes, or leaves them. So don’t hurt Rudy, she’s as fragile enough as it is.

#yandere #oc #x reader #oc x reader #yandere x reader #fem oc #gn reader

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troutfur · 1 year

Text

On the Social Importance of the Cat Pile: The nest as social unit and default polyamory.

(Many thanks to my friend @bonefall for helping come up with the Clanmew words used here! These are not to be taken to be canon to his worldbuilding but as an important concept in mine I thought it’d be neat to have words for it in the conlang I helped make. Do feel free to take these alongside the worldbuilding concepts if they so catch your fancy!)

The pfurr (nest) is the most important social unit for a Clan cat. Whether it is delaying a much needed retirement or passing up on the opportunity to apprentice under the Clan's oracle, a Clan cat would do just about anything to avoid being separated from their empf (nestmates/close kin). They are much more than simply cats who sleep together, they are the core of a cat's social circle.

A cat's first empf are, naturally, their kikshpfurr (littermates). From the nursery to the elders' den, this grouping forms the most important part of a pfurr. When a cat leaves the pfurr of their kikshpfurr and joins another it is usually in pursuit of a romantic relationship. It is a common stereotype that ul-arramew (singletons) are affection starved due to their lack of kikshpfurr and desperate to get into a relationship to plug that hole.

In order to incorporate into a pfurr, a cat must be accepted by all its members. In the case of romantic partners seeking to move into the same pfurr, to try again with a rejected partner's original pfurr is seen as a grave insult to the pfurr originally attempted to obtain entrance into. In the event of a double rejection, establishing a brand new pfurr with one's partner is extremely scandalous.

A cat is presumed to be in a relationship with all members of their pfurr who they are not directly related to. This is not always the case, plenty of empf are merely friends to or even just cordially tolerate each other. But it is true often enough that it is a safe bet to make. This assumption is the reason why it's taboo for apprentices to share nests with non-kikshpfurr.

Clan culture recognizes two parental roles, the wipfurr (mother), which is the yaow (dam) that gives birth to a kitten, and the pipfurr (father), which are all the other members of the wipfurr's pfurr.

A yaow is free to confirm or to deny which member of her pfurr is the ssuf (sire), conferring exclusively or stripping away the claim to fatherhood, but she does so at the risk of gravely offending everyone snubbed. Many a pfurr has collapsed over such a slight. A confirmed ssuf is known derrogatorily as pipfurr-ul (lone father).

Clan culture recognizes two kinds of myem (siblings) other than kikshpfurr: eerpfurr (mother-siblings), and myempfurr (father-siblings). The former are cats born of the same wipfurr while the latter are cats born of a different yaow within their wipfurr's pfurr. Typically, a cat feels closer to the former than the latter, although both kinds are considered empf.

Cats recognize their nyams (distant kin) in an uneven manner. Although grandparents, auncles, and cousins are always recognized on a wipfurr's side of the family, for a pipfurr's family members to be afforded the same they have to be exceptionally close to their children. It happens most often with two-cat pfurr.

#sibling bonds rewrite #clanmew #kinship system #worldbuilding #warrior cats #wc #warrior cats au

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johannestevans · 11 months

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Hey! I've seen your post about pregnancy going around and I really agree with what you're saying and I wanted to thank you because I've never really heard anyone talk about pregnancy in this way before. I only just started following you so I was wondering what made you want to make that post and also do you have any more thoughts on the subject of parenthood/pregnancy etc?

this post

I have a lot of varied thoughts about topics that I post at different times - I'm a pretty fervent believer in more movements towards children's rights, especially children's rights to bodily autonomy, and to be honest, I'm ultimately a believer in abolishing schools.

I think pregnancy can be a complex topic, because many cisgender women find the concept and the process in various ways to be very gender affirming and a culmination of their journeys as women - unfortunately, this is a perspective that's baked into a lot of Christo-fascist ideology and other dangerous rightwing ideologies, and many other cis women, not to mention other people who can get pregnant, are pressured and policed for their decisions around pregnancy, whether that's to get abortions, to not get pregnant at all, their contraceptive usage, their partners, the number of children they have, their decision to give up kids for adoption, how they parent those children, etc.

Ultimately, I think pregnancy is horrifying. It's very scary to me, and in different ways I think the effects it can wreak on the body can be disgusting, horrifying, frightening, etc - some other people fantasise about pregnancy as something far more joyful and exciting; others have a more balanced view but think it's worth the horrors for the joys, or consider the horrors of never being pregnant worth the horrors of being pregnant, you know?

Much of the fictional body horror I write in various ways plays with themes that are analogous to or parallel the fears of pregnancy - belly bulging, especially inflation and oviposition, obviously mimic the most obvious physical bulging that comes with pregnancy; I play with induced lactation and the fears of being seen as a breeding vessel; I play with themes of infestation and your body being taken over by another creature or creatures, especially in ways that would be legitimised by outsiders, where their claim to your body is seen as more valid than your own; I play with feelings of the personal body being subsumed with a focus on the public or greater good.

People often focus on the birth as the most traumatic aspect of pregnancy, but for me the real fears are actually in the gestation because like...

The birthing process can last up to a few days for a really awful labour, but that's just a blip compared to 80% of a year spent pregnant, and what really freaks me out is not just the physical processes of pregnancy itself, but all the ideology, moralism, and social mores that surround pregnancy and pregnant people, the ways in which anyone pregnant is expected or might be expected to sacrifice themselves, the ways in which our society venerates birth but not life, a potential life but not an actual person, the ways in which our society will coo over the concept of a baby, but not care about that baby's autonomy, particularly as they grow into a child and an adult themselves, let alone the autonomy of that child's parent.

Three out of four of my grandparents were nurses, and my mother had an extremely difficult labour with me, plus I grew up sort of asking questions about medical stuff, and I saw shows like Call the Midwife, medical dramas, and so on - I think as I grew into a teenager, I was constantly bombarded with messaging about the normalcy and the expectation of pregnancy, and I had the difficulty many trans men have of like...

Untangling my feelings of personal dysphoria and nausea around the "feminising" aspects of pregnancy and the gendered expectations, all these being my personal relationship to my own body, to pregnancy, to ways in which my body might be considered femine or threatened with feminisation by others, especially with rape threats that involved pregnancy; and at the same time, sort of looking at pregnancy in society, the way it's treated individually and communally, the way pregnant people are treated, the way pregnancy is racialised, the way pregnancy is treated through lenses of fatness, disability, gender marginalisation, sexuality, immigration status, culture, and the big stratifications of misogyny and the subjugation of those who can give birth, especially those who are multiply marginalised.

Did I feel sick and bad about this because of the threat against my body, because of gender dysphoria, because of gender feels in general, or did I feel sick and bad because of all the injustice that comes with the topic?

And the answer even now is often "all of the above".

#musings

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matan4il · 11 months

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Would I have viewed the finale differently if I didn't know it could have been the last? It still would have sucked and I would have been bummed. Outside of the Buddie of it I don't know why they couldn't let one of them stay single. Especially the pandering way they did it.

As someone who chooses not to be in a relationship, I wish they would have normalized it. I was a bit of an oopsie to older parents and the very youngest to many siblings. As a result, I have taken care of them and a lot of nieces and nephews. But I love it!! It allowed me to go to school longer and get my dream job. I get to vacation when I want. Everyone knows I will be the one to take the kids on their first trip abroad. I love my life. It's a blend of selflessness and selfishness, and there have been people like me forever. I have always seen shades of that in Eddie and Buck. I don't see the need to force either to be in a relationship or even make them seem lonely. Either way, I still wouldn't have liked it because it was done poorly, I especially didn't understand the "why Marisol." It was lazy writing and unfulfilled at best.

Also, one other small thing. I do identify with them a bit also because it's like the butterfly effect. Maybe they would be completely different people if Eddie hadn't knocked up Shannon and Bucks' parents' cared. Maybe I would be different if I was first born instead of last? And that's OK to think, but also ok to still love the life you have now..

Hi Nonnie! Thank you for the ask and sorry it's taken me a bit to reply, I wish real life wasn't as intense... but I hope you're doing good! *hug*

I agree with you so much, not wanting to be in a r/s at any cost should be normalized. I'm SO happy for you, to hear that you have a good life and that you're enjoying it to the fullest!

I believe that having a family (a romantic partner, kids) has a different meaning to each person. I'm the granddaughter of Holocaust survivors, so what family is to me was very much shaped by what they taught me. To my grandparents, the family that they built was the ultimate victory over the hatred that tried to exterminate all of us Jews. Passing along their identity, their heritage, their values, as well as the memory of those relatives who had been murdered in the Holocaust, it was all a part of this triumph. That's on top of the significance of continuity through family in Judaism in general.

So I come from a very specific background, and even I recognize that what family means to me isn't a universal thing. Which is why it's very annoying to see that TV and movies often treat the subject as if there is only one way to be happy, and that is to find a romantic partner. Many times, it's tied to having kids as well, but almost always it's about settling with a life partner. And I think it's a harmful message, this idea of "one size fits all." More than that, I believe in certain cases it's so pervasive that some people try to stick it out in bad r/s, even abusive ones, due to the idea that it's better than to be alone. When it clearly is not!

That's why Eddie breaking up with Ana simply over the fact that he wasn't happy was so important, realizing that if his happiness was elsewhere, it's okay to walk away, that was so important. Like I said in this ask reply, they can still turn the storyline with Marisol (and for that matter, Natalia) into something poignant about Eddie (and Buck's) journey. What upsets me is the thought they might have actually wanted to leave it there, in that place where Buddie seem to be dating women just for the sake of dating once more.

Hope you have a great day! As always, my ask tag. xoxox

#ask #anti eddieana #anti eddiemarisol #anti bucknatalia #buddie #911meta #911 on abc #911 abc #buddie meta #911 meta #911abc #9-1-1 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911onabc #911 #edmundo diaz #evan buck buckley #anon ask

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moregraceful · 10 months

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NASHVILLE PREDATORS SIGNED MY BOY JASPER WEATHERBY!!!! 2 WAY CONTRACT!!!!!!

preds fans do you want a vibe check….frankly he’s probably going to spend most if not all of the season in the AHL, but he’s one of my all time favorite fringe ahl locker room guys that has ever graced the Barracuda organization in my time here in hell dot ca dot gov (…2 years) so i GOTTA hype my guy

1. his parents are progressive hippies. his grandparents are civil rights lawyers — his grandma marched in Selma and his grandpa worked for the ACLU (his grandpa is Jewish and his family left Britain during WWII and moved to the states and this left such a huge impact on the family’s politics over all.) in the NCAA in North Dakota, he knelt for the anthem!! He has a black brother who was adopted from Costa Rica. He gets it. He did not kneel for the anthem in AHL or NHL but when you’re a fringe player at best and your call-ups are basically determined by how many franchise players have covid at any given moment, you can’t really risk the kind of attention kneeling would bring 😩 he’s like pedigree hockey moron who was raised in a progressive-leftist family who has been challenged again and again from birth to look more critically race in the US. we love to see it!!

2. Also a gay ally….he was on the Sharks’ beat lone podcast last year during June and the interviewer ended the interview with like, hey do you have anything you’d like to say or any people you’d like to shout out and he was like well, “a big thing on my mind is that it’s Pride Month” (direct quote) and he talked about how he’s glad to see NHL and junior clubs celebrating pride. Jasper Weatherby loves the gays really for real

3. Huge locker room guy. HUGE locker room guy. I have seen the Barracuda on double-digit loss streaks and like that was BAD but like…I mean we had an 8 game losing streak last winter, I have still never seen the team as depressed as they were when Jasper got traded (for my beloved Crisco, noted bisexual/bisexual ally, who, being a vibes guy himself, immediately went on a hatty watch to cheer them up). apparently some of the guys were BONKERS upset but none more than our number one prospect William Eklund, for whom Weatherby was the golden retriever to his cheetah threatening to go crazy in his enclosure, and who, first game post-Jasper trade, I watched play with increasing concern for his mental stability

4. I am not making this a great hits of the William Eklund/Jasper Weatherby story or this post will devolve into chaos, however, I will note that the young guys on the Cuda seemed to have an attitude of like that’s WEATHER we LOVE him and generally seemed to treat him as their emotional support dog. The one thing I will say about William Eklund (Swedish first rounder) is that the kid showed up at prospect camp right out of the gate and Jasper apparently ID’d him as…idk kid who needed a touch of home, so he. took Eklund to ikea. Hello small Swedish teenager, you look nervous would you like to go to Ikea?? And William was in love with him from that moment on. So hopefully that kind of maternal touch carries on in Nashville or Milwaukee, where he just tries hard to make the young guys feel comfortable and at home. (The guys also loved his dog, whose name is Larry.)

5. Generally just kind of goofy and protective. Usually has a big smile. On ice, one time I was eavesdropping on the season ticket holders sitting behind me while he was on the power play and one of them mused “there’s Jasper in front of the net…he’s such a distraction” and his partner said “he really is.” Big boy is 6’3 and generally just. huge. Despite his size, usually you don’t have to worry about him doing particularly stupid shit but in one of the most iconic days in San Jose Barracuda history last year, he started a line brawl PRE-WHISTLE and eight players got game misconducts before the game even started and our head coach got fined like $25k. the best part is NO ONE outside of the team knows what happened, the team closed ranks and coaching staff refused to comment on it to media. Jasper, notably one of the calmest guys on the team, just went apeshit one day. And us the fanbase just went well, if Jasper was mad he probably had a good reason.

I think he probably destined to be career AHLer and you likely won’t see him in Nashville for his whole career unless some kind of disaster befalls Nashville’s NHL locker room and/or front office this year, however I am really excited that he landed somewhere because I was worried!! And I’m glad he landed in Nashville because the vibes are on the move!! if he ends up in a locker room with Luke Prokop, it’s going to be a gays-only event. (Also going to very funny. Prokop is taller than Jasper and can certainly take care of himself, but big brother Jasper Weatherby will be READY to HELP if Luke needs a grocery store buddy.) If he ends up in a locker room with Luke Prokop and Tyson Barrie and Roman Josi….first of all catch me cryin in the club if he makes it to the NHL again, second of all, it will be the most aggressively queer and queer-allied locker room. I love him. I miss him so much. I hope he goes full protective big brother on Luke in Milwaukee, because it will be inCREDIBLY funny to watch a 6’3 dude be the emotional support golden retriever for a 6’5 dude.

#i just love him so much and i’m so glad he is going to a locker room that is fairly progressive and rallied behind luke!!#because i think he will thrive in that environment when he is given a task of ‘’be a big brother’’#like he is good at hockey…he’s not BAD but he’s not like. elite nhler #he’s kind of just enormous and friendly. locker room vibes guy!!#hockey for ts #Just Some Guy vibe check

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writingforfishes · 13 days

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Otto and Atticus Chronicles 4: The Hiatus

It is after 3am on my side of the world and when I came home from work I wrote out over 4,000 words, I guess.

This fiction is actually SFW.

I know in my own experience of having a kink I will go through phases where I simply don't feel ar0used by it. At some points in my life I think that I've lost it completely. But it always comes back. Atticus goes through the same states, I've decided. They call that state their 'hiatus'. So that gave me permission to write a story that was not about being turned on by hiccups but, instead, just about Otto getting hiccups and Atticus being a Good Partner.

This story has some hurt/comfort elements in it. Mainly Otto is stressed out and hyperfocused on his clock repair as there is a seasonal rush and Atticus makes sure our boy is taken care of and loved. In turn, Atticus also practices self-care and self awareness.

Oh, and there is also loads of hiccups. Just from a different perspective than normal.

Also, is it normal to develop secondary characters as much as I do for kink fiction? Cause this world is growing...

***

Otto usually didn’t have movements set up like this in the house on test stands. He used the shed in the back yard to test movements, especially the ones with pendulums. He didn’t like to do it on the work bench in the house because there was a possibility that it would get bumped. But it was spring and usually around this time of the year Otto experienced a rush in business. People were cleaning out their homes or their parents/grandparents homes and finding old clocks that hadn’t seen services for decades and suddenly wanted them working again to have a piece of their loved one with them.

He had a few watches in drawers as well that were waiting for service. And then there were the regular customers that still filled the quota for maintenance. All in all, this week had been hectic. He’d been to four home visits for tall clocks and grandfather clocks already and it was only Wednesday.

Fortunately he didn’t have any home visits scheduled for today and he wasn’t planning to, not with how enthusiastic his diaphragm had decided to be. Luckily, thanks to Atticus’ insights on the pattern when his recurring hiccup days happened, he had known this was a possibility.

He ate later than usual last night and it was a spicier meal than average. When Atticus had mentioned the possibility of hiccups being the consequence of his indulgence Otto took note and popped a couple of antacids before bed.

While it hadn’t prevented the hiccups he had to admit that they weren’t as strong or violent as his past experiences with day-long recurring hiccups had been. He hadn’t even seen reason to try and cure them. And, at times, he completely forgot they were there until he found himself taking a breath, gulping, or startling himself with a HUCK when his mouth had been open.

They had started coming a little more rapidly though, and he wasn’t sure exactly why. But he was so focused on at least finishing one more movement before taking a break that he ignored the body jolts and worked through the clusters of hiccups that piled one on top of the other to get just one more thing done.

He leaned forward into the current clock movement, a Seth Thomas regulator, and pulled down the eye loupe attached to his glasses to get a better look at the escapement. He paused as a cluster of three hiccups hit him causing him to bounce and his hand to unsteady. He sighed and swallowed down some slower hiccups as he inspected the built up oil around the pivots and in the teeth of the gears.

A lot of clock makers were enthusiastic about taking apart movements and cleaning them. But if the oil buildup wasn’t too bad and it was working pretty well once it was in beat Otto would rather leave the movement as it was and clean what he saw.

He was deciding whether or not this particular movement was going to need an ultrasonic bath when he heard the stairs creak behind him, the light thumping of bare feet tapping through the living room and into the kitchen, and the sound of a mug hitting softly on the counter.

Normally Otto would have excitedly met with his partner to show his hiccups and spend an intimate moment together but 1) he still had so much work to catch up on that he was nervous to lose any time that he could use getting through his list of repairs and 2) Atticus was in what they liked to call a ‘haitus’ from experiencing arousal from hiccups.

When Atty first experienced the phenomenon Otto had been worried his partner going to find his hiccups obtrusive and annoying. But they reassured them that even when their arousal level was low Otto and his hiccups were adorable and charming. Otto had been relieved, but they’d never had the hiccups while Atticus wasn’t aroused by them. In a way they were thankful timelines lined up to be a benefit to his catching up with work. But he was also curious as to whether Atticus really would find his hiccups as endearing as they claimed they would.

“Huh-huck’m!” Otto murmured as he looked closer at the escapement gear. He might have to bend some of those teeth back into place. Another cluster of hiccups hit him, “huck!hmp!mk!hmk!uck!--Jeez!”

“Have you had them all morning?” a voice said from behind him.

Otto jumped, eyes wide, and looked around at the sudden appearance of his partner. They had gotten their hair cut recently, sides shaved and curls tousled on top and touching their forehead. They stood behind him calmly with a mug that said ‘Life’s a bitch and then you die,’ in simple font on the front. Atticus continued to amaze Otto with their ability to seemingly transport right behind him in an instance.

“Holy shhic!t, you sc-scared the huck’m crap out of me!” Otto exclaimed, clutching his chest. He muffled a few more hiccups that piled in with the excitement.

“But not the...hiccups, apparently,” Atticus replied and took a bemused sip from their mug.

It was always a little endearing how much trouble Atticus sometimes had saying the word ‘hiccup’ out loud. They avoided it most of the time.

Otto took his glasses off finally as looking at Atticus through them was becoming disorienting. He chuckled a little at the comment, feeling a harder than expected HUCK shake his body and pull in his sternum.

“N-no,” Otto confirmed, rubbing the sensation from his chest as his hiccups continued to settle more on contracting his belly after that big one. Atticus just smiled, no hint of arousal in their expression. “I-hulp! I got them hup!-after breakf-mp!-breakfast. Are you huck!-uh. Hmp!mp! Are you up ear-early?”

“I am not,” Atticus confirmed. “I, in fact, slept in. Late night working on a submission. Did you have breakfast around seven?”

Otto knitted his brows, confused at the question.

“Y-hup!-yeah,” he answered with a nod.

“Sweet boy, it’s one in the afternoon,” Atticus informed him.

“What?” he exclaimed, and looked at his watch. “Oh m-man. Huck! I was suHUP!-supposed to call hmp! Millie back hup!-to s-set mk!-up an appointment for herp!-her grandmother hmp!-clock.”

“Aw, I love Millie!” Atticus said. They came over and put a hand on his shoulders. “I’m sure she’ll understand you getting wrapped up in...wow, how many clocks are you working on?”

“I don’t mk!-don’t wanna talk about it. HUCK!” Otto said, and sighed again. Another volley of hiccups hit him. “Huck!hulp!Uck!Hilp!” and he silently jerked through two more. He felt Atticus’ warm hand rubbing his shoulder as the fit passed.

“Why don’t I fix you a sandwich? You can step away from...whatever this is,” Atticus suggested waving a hand at two stands that were holding up clock movements. One that was set up to be tested and one that he was currently working on.

Atticus had felt his neck tense as more hiccups rippled through his slouched form. They’d winced at the fastness of his hiccups. Usually they would feel turned on but now they just felt sympathy. They felt a higgup bounce in his shoulders before he sighed and rubbed his eyes roughly.

“I jhuck!-just have so hmp!-much to do! I’m behimp!-behind hip!-and I n-need to hmp!-call Millie. Damn! Wh-where did the hup!-time go?” he lamented, throwing a worried look up at Atticus.

“I don’t know, but it’s definitely not in those,” Atticus said, gesturing to the clock guts that were motionless in front of Otto.

Otto’s face turned from worried to stricken as he followed Atticus’ gaze. And what was meant to be a light hearted joke made a knot form that his hiccups seemed to gather around, an ache forming in his chest.

“Oh, hey…” Atticus cajoled realizing their mistake, “No no. C’mere.”

Atty put down their mug behind them, purposely avoiding the work bench where all of those delicate looking tools and parts were exposed. They wrapped their arm around his shoulders and took their other hand and pressed his head into their chest softly, stroking his hair. It was rare that they got to cradle Otto like this as their two height differences made it near impossible if he wasn’t sitting. So they actually really enjoyed moments when they could cradle him and offer him comfort, his body jolting with hiccups that seemed to get stronger as he had brought up the backlog of work he had on his plate right now.

“Sorry, sweetie,” Atty said softly into Otto’s hair.

Otto sighed at the sensation of warm breath on his scalp. The sigh ended in a hard HUCK-UK! He grunted. Now that he had started paying attention to them he realized how long he’d had the hiccups and how annoying they had become. It probably didn’t help that he also suddenly realized how hungry he was. His hiccups were definitely jolting a stomach that felt empty and ached a little from that, too.

“I’m just huck-uk!-just a little huck!-overwhelmed,” he admitted. His hiccups were a little muffled as he buried his face in the soft material of Atticus’ Henley. Their scent was comforting and he took a breath of it, snorting a couple more hiccups, small burps escaping in retort.

“You need a break,” Atticus said. “Would you allow me to call Millie and tell her you’re a little backlogged and not feeling well? And let me fix you a sandwich? I think it would help the...hiccups, too. And if that doesn’t work we can cure them the way we always do.”

Otto whimpered a little. He hated stepping away from a project, especially when he had so many more to work on. He rubbed his stomach, though, feeling his hiccups respond by quickening again. He felt Atticus’ hand raking through his hair and over his scalp, grounding him.

“Hey,” Atticus said, voice still soft. Their hand suggested to Otto that he should look up at them and so he obliged. Tilting his head up forced his body to jerk a little more at each hiccup so he had to adjust his eyes at each spasm to keep on Atticus’. “It’s not your fault that you’re behind. You’re one person and you have a sudden surge of clients that need your services. You’re doing the best you can. And right now, you need to take care of yourself because otherwise you’re going to work yourself to the ground and I’ll have to youtube how-to videos on clock repair and, I dunno, I might get maimed by a main spring or something.”

“Is HUCK!-is this huck’m!-supposed to make mhuck!-me feel huck!huck!-feel better?” Otto responded wryly. He didn’t miss the roll of Atticus’ eyes as he suppressed a belch that tucked his chin in immediately followed by a volley of silent hiccups. He grunted, disgruntled. He felt a hand on his head again.

“You get what I’m saying though,” they said.

He nodded, “Y-yeah mk!mk!”

“Want me to call Millie?” they asked.

He shook his head at that.

“I’ll d-do it,” he said.

“With the hiccups…?” Atticus asked incredulously. They’d recently found out a few months ago how uncomfortable having hiccups in public made Otto.

Otto shrugged in response. It was a non-committal response but it indicated that he just thought it would be easier, somehow. Atticus didn’t argue. They weren’t a fan of talking on the phone, anyway.

“Sandwich?” was Atticus’ final question as Otto gathered up his phone and searched his contacts for Millie’s number. He nodded at this.

“P-please. Huck!-uh. Thanks,” he added sheepishly.

Atticus smiled and put a kiss on his forehead as Otto held the phone up and listened to the other line ring.

He prepared to try and suppressed his hiccups as much as possible. He certainly didn’t want to come off as rude. As weird as it was, some people did see the involuntary spasms as impolite and Millie was in her late 70’s, nearing 80. He had no idea what the older generation would think about a professional calling with the hiccups. If he were in a clearer frame of mind he might have decided to let Atticus call or wait until he could cure them effectively, but it seemed more direct and rational to deal with it himself as soon as possible.

“Hey M-Millie,” Otto said when a voice on the other end came on. Otto had been servicing Millie’s clocks for close to a decade now. She had some amazing timepieces and a couple of gorgeous chiming clocks. He had been honored to form a relationship with her first because of the opportunity to work on some absolutely amazing clocks but then because Millie was a delightful person.

“I’m d-mm!-doing okay. I apo-uh!-apologize for—for calling later—later than we’d agree-eed on. Hmp!” Otto tried not to hold his breath as that sped up his hiccups but he had been able to silence most of them with effort.

“N-no,” Otto said, and chuckled a little releasing an uncaught squeak. “The conhmp!-mm-the connection’s fine. I—I have a pretty—pretty stubborn hmpk!-uh stubborn case of the-the hiccups right now. Pl-please excuse me mk!”

Otto smiled and stood, wincing as he realized how incredibly stiff he was from sitting at the bench. His butt, of all things, was numb and sore at the same time. He came into the threshold of the kitchen to lean against the wall and watch Atticus toast bread to make a PB&J. They were slicing up apples, too.

Millie was coo-ing as if she was his mother. ‘Poor baby’ and such. Otto already felt more relaxed listening to her voice soothing him with compassion. He let his hiccups out a little as he unclenched his muscles. He still kept his mouth closed so they didn’t explode into Millie’s ear but they made more regular mk sounds as he waiting for her to finish.

Atticus sent Otto a smile as they mouthed ‘I love you’. Otto mouthed it back but with an uck punctuating it.

“Mm. N-no. Holding muck!-my breath makes mk!-makes them worse mk!-usually. Huck! Sorr-mk!-sorry!” Otto said, covering his mouth.

Otto nodded to her response.

“Yeah-mk!-they’re pretty bad. Mmk! L-listen. I wanted mk!-wanted to see if mk!-if we could t-talk tomorrow. Hmpk! I have a mk!-pretty long back-mk!-backlog of p-mp!-projects right now. I haven’t mk!-had—had time to look at mk!-my schedule, yet. C-could I call mk!-you tomorrow?” Otto asked.

Otto nodded as she acquiesced very quickly, insistently almost. Otto knew Millie couldn’t see him nod but he did it out of instinct and as Atticus seemed to relax at the gesture it was good that he had done it to confirm at least that stress was dealt with and off of his plate for today.

“Yeah th-they’re doing okay. Mmk!-uh. Fixing me so-something to eat mk!-right now. I s-sorta forgot hmpk!-to do that. Mmk’m!” Otto responded and rubbed his chest. “P-probably why mk!-these things have mk!-lasted this long.” Otto paused, listening, and smiled, “Yeah m-my mom mk!-got them when she was hung-hungry, too!”

Atticus raised their eyebrows. Otto grinned and shrugged.

“Okay,” he said into the phone. “O—okay, yeah. Mk! Yeah, tom-tomorrow. Mk! I’ll tell them. B-bye.”

Atticus sat the plate with the PB&J down on the kitchen table and the apple slices next to it. The writer was forbidden to use the stove anymore since the great scorch a few years back. Since then they’d gotten pretty damn good at salads and sandwiches, when needed. Otto did most of the cooking.

“M-Millie sends huck-uh!-her well-wishes. Says she hmpk!-read your latest huck!-latest book of poems. She hupk!-likes the one about p-MK!-pomegranates,” Otto said fondly.

“Ha! That’s great! It’s so cool that she reads my stuff. By the way, that one was totally about my junk,” Atticus said indelicately.

“HA! Huck’m! H’muck! Mk!-uh! Ugh, don’t m-make me laugh. HUCK!-uh…” Otto guffawed. He suppressed another belch followed by three more hiccups that seemed to play with the air that his stomach had created from becoming acidic with hunger. Otto made a gross face and swallowed.

“Sit! Food! Eat!” Atticus insisted.

Otto finally pushed off of the wall and sat down.

“PB and h’muck!-J?” Otto asked.

“Fast calories. C’mon. Those hiccups are just hungry. Take your time. I’ll get you some water,” they said and ruffled Otto’s curls as they passed him to get a glass.

“What-hmp!-What are you gonna eat?” he said around a bite. He chewed while he hiccuped and swallowed between them. It was a delicate process but he could already tell that his stomach was starting to satiate by the second bite. Though he might need at least one more of these sandwiches, at least. He tried to go slow.

“Gonna make some eggs,” Atticus said. At Otto’s look, they said, “I can make eggs…”

He grinned around the food, hiccuped, and swallowed. He made no further comment except to watch them carefully during the process.

Two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with half an apple eaten by Otto and two scrambled eggs with toast eaten by Atticus later the clock maker felt a lot better. His hiccups weren’t quite gone, but they had lessened significantly. His anxiety had ebbed significantly, too. But he still couldn’t help but think about the looming deadlines and clock movements that sat unfinished.

“Okay. Back to it. Hmph!” Otto said. “I really appreciate you taking hmp!-taking care of me, Atty. These clocks are n-not gonna put themselves in hmph!-in beat!”

“Hey, suggestion?” Atticus said, putting both of their dishes in the dishwasher after rinsing them. The shorter of the couple watched the taller with some level of intensity. They took in his disheveled curls (though they were the one who did some of that), shadowed eyes, and posture that held tenseness like it was a vital commodity.

Otto’s hiccups had weakened and Atticus was thankful for that. Even within the break from their attraction they found hiccups to be interesting and endearing. But Otto’s hiccups today didn’t just originate from poorly made dinner decisions. Otto’s hiccups seemed to mirror the anxiety state he was in.

Or perhaps that was Atticus projecting a little. This writing submission had been a point of obsession for them. If Otto went back in the deep end of his clock repair then Atticus would end up back treading water with their short story submission. But when Otto looked back, lips opening over his slight overbite then closing quickly with another quick inhale of a hiccup Atticus felt a little guilty and selfish with their suggestion.

“Yeah?” Otto prompted when Atticus seemed reticent.

“Um. How about you don’t?” they finally said.

“Do-hmph!-don’t…?” Otto said, shaking his head.

“Uh. Listen,” Atticus winced as they rubbed the back of their head wondering if they should’ve even brought it up. But they huffed in determination to get it out. “Do you know what time I went to bed?”

“Hmm-hmk!” Otto said and took a moment to think. “No, actually. I know you were werk!-working on your short story. I fi-figured you probably fell asleep hmph!-in the loft.”

“Well yeah, I did...when I heard you get up,” they said sheepishly.

Otto’s eyes widened a little.

“Wait, what?” he replied. “So that was herp!-that was around five this morning?”

“This deadline is so close, Otto. But the harder I push myself the harder it is to finish. And I just,” they sighed in a huff, “I think I need a break! And...with all of these commitments and business you have right now I think...I mean...I’d like you to take a break with me. Just today.”

“Atticus, I…”

“I know, I know. You have a lot of people counting on you and you don’t like to disappoint people or promise something you can’t fulfill. But is what you’re going to be able to get accomplished today with as tired as you are really worth still feeling that tired tomorrow and pushing yourself through until you’re entirely burned out? Or is just taking this afternoon and tonight to take a break and feeling a lot better and having a lot more energy tomorrow better in the long run? I’m kind of being selfish here because I really just need to get out of my head on this thing and seeing you today running yourself ragged and forgetting to eat or drink water...I just...think it wouldn’t be a completely terrible idea for us both to just...take a moment,” Atticus said, sputtering nervously and biting their lip.

Atticus had never had the kind of drive that Otto had when it came to anything in life. Otto was self driven in a way that Atticus could never figure our how to embody. Truth be told, they often felt incredibly inadequate in Otto’s focused motivation and follow-through. But the person they saw crouched over the clock movement, shoulders up to his ears in tightness, working diligently but with tremors more than from hiccups seemed to embody the exhaustion Atticus had experienced the night before and morning of the current day.

“So…” Otto started, allowing his body to jolt with a silent hiccup, “take a break?”

“Yes…”

“Like a...m-mental health day?” Otto asked.

“Yeah, I guess,” Atticus agreed.

Otto sighed and seemed conflicted for a moment. He looked back to his workbench. He gave the two movements sitting on it a glare. His mind’s eye thought about the three watches that needed service and the two other movements in the shed that still needed some attention. None of them were big jobs, but they were still time consuming. But he also considered what Atticus had said.

Warily he stepped tentatively over to his work bench, fingers twitching as he reached and flicked off the lights. He felt his diaphragm twitch again and rubbed his hand over his belly to ease the anxiety.

“Okay. What do we do now? Hmpk!” Otto asked and put a hand over his chest.

Atticus breathed out a sigh of relief. Even though they felt completely comfortable with Otto and had been with him for years they’d always felt like challenging his work ethic and dedication was something mildly off limits. But seeing him in such a state earlier had made their compassion override that inadequacy and they’re glad they offered the out.

“I was thinking we could...lay on the couch and fall asleep to some crappy tv?” they offered tentatively.

Over the years Atticus and Otto’s media consumption had melded. Atticus easily loved the classical music and niche composers Otto featured on his record player, but Atticus sometimes just needed noise. They rarely watched TV, but having it on made them feel more focused in some ways. It didn’t seem to make sense, but it worked for them. And slowly Otto had become accustomed to their habits in addition to his.

After a moment of consideration Otto gave a nod, “I could hup!-do that. Though...my diaphragm is hmph!-kinda disruptive right now…”

“I don’t mind but if it’s bothering you we can do the cure,” Atticus said.

“I think I’m al-almost done. I don’t want to do the hup!-the cure too much. Maybe it’ll get, I dunno, hmk!-like get ineffective if I do it too much?” he said uncertainly.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how that works but if you don’t want a mouthful of salt I totally understand,” Atty said with a smile.

“I really, r-really don’t!” Otto replied emphatically. Atticus laughed.

And so, Otto and Atticus ended up on the couch in the living room. Atticus pressed their back into Otto’s chest and belly. Otto nuzzled his bearded face into the place where Atticus’ neck met their shoulder from behind. For the first five minutes they lazily watched a documentary that neither of them would remember.

Atticus would jolt with every hiccup Otto made. His hiccups muffled in their neck. They could feel his intakes of breath on their neck’s skin and hear the slight whistle as air sucked into his nose as a small thump hit the small of their back from Otto’s stomach.

Otto’s hiccups faded and stopped after that. Simultaneously they both breathed in deeply and let it out. They chuckled together when they realized what they’d done.

Within an hour Otto had relocated to his back and Atticus had tucked themselves to Otto’s side, their head on his chest. A drawling British narrator spoke about some documentary worthy topic as the couple let the worries of their day fade like Otto’s hiccups finally had. When they awoke that evening to have dinner they would find they were able to breathe again, too.

#hic fic #hiccups #hiccups kink #hiccup kink #otto and atticus #kink fic #hurt/comfort kink fic #emotional h/c #minors dni

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