Midnight Fantasies (one shots)

garden search

The dull buzz of the hotel's ac was the first thing he heard when he came to. Her warm, bare skin and tangled hair should have been the first thing he felt. But instead he was big spooning a dent in the bed. With a yawn, he calls out, "Y/n?", wondering how she was up after the night they had. Flashbacks to her hands tangled in his curls, tugging firmly while he nibbled on her sweetest spots beneath her chin, atop her shoulder, and below her belly button. A content smile on his lips. Eyes now adjusted to the cool lighting of their room he flips over to see he's alone with only the buzzing of the ac to keep him company.

"Baby?" His legs swing off the bed and he's headed to the bathroom where the door is closed. He knocks on the door and waits for her good morning. One he hasn't heard in 4 years. His hearts aches slightly at the thought and pushes the door open, eager to see her. The curved frown of her lips in its natural resting position, the swoop of the short hairs framing her face and her golden skin that made him feel like a winner staring at his first place prize. To learn the ways life had molded her appearance in his absence and to make sure she was really there and that last night really happened.

The same dull buzz of the ac was yet again all he heard. The bathroom was empty. She wasn't on the toilet or staring back at him from her reflection in the mirror. He even thought to slide the open shower curtain aside fully to check under the shower head. Spinning around, his eyes spotted her phone missing from the bed side table. He remembered it being next to her pink framed glasses which was also gone. Gone. Every cell in his body filled with panic. Is this how she felt that day 4 years ago?

Snatching his clothes off the floor, he's out he door with no clue which way to turn. What a sick pathetic person he was to have hoped it would work this time. He should have unleashed it all last night. He knew she held herself back so he figured he'd do the same so as not the scare her off. The sweet whispers in her ears and gentle caresses were part of his plan to regain her trust. Isn't that what she liked the first time they had each other? Or had she learnt to enjoy other methods of pleasure? He had no doubt she could pick anyone of her choosing for a rebound or even a regular lover and they would have been blessed with her lewd sensitive reactions to touches along her sweet mounds. They would have become obsessed with the sounds and faces she made, depending on them like air or food or water. Never satiated until she was a beautiful shaking mess before them. He wondered who else she gave the privilege of witnessing her like that to after he left.

Every girl he'd been with after her never had the same allure as she did. Couldn't bring out the same greed and hunger as she could. No one else knew just how to cup his pecs or grip his arms right. How to rake their fingers through his hair and push the curls out of his eyes. How to raise goosebumps on his skin with just a glance through lowered eyelids or how to make him spring up against his snail trail with just the strum of their finger. And last night he had that again. The bond he would have with no other. But now she's gone. And he doesn't know where to find her. He chooses left and walks down the stairs leading to the hotels garden. Passing each corridor with frantic searching eyes desperate to spot her familiar figure. There's the old lady from yesterday sitting in the same worn down seat, this time staring off past the trailing vines covering the large tree with the wavy roots. She tilts her head up to him and frowns and he feels defeated. She stares at him as if she knew how badly he messed up and his steps falter. "I don't know what you did boy," she croaks, lifting a wrinkled finger weighed down by that ridiculous ring, "but you need to fix it. I can feel she's had enough pain to get her through to my own old age." He realises she's not pointing at him but behind him. To the garden she told y/n the flowers that had just started blooming in. He sends the old woman a grateful look and leaves without a word.

Stepping over the tree's roots he tells his heart to relax. Is y/n okay? Of course not. Why would she have run away and how could the old lady know she's upset if she was fine? A sorrowful sigh escapes him and he spots movement out of the corner of his eye. The world stopped spinning and his gaze settled upon the only person that could stir his bones into a frenzy whilst simultaneously calming his mind down to a comatose state.