#AND THEN I ALMOST HANDED HIM A WINE GLASS UNTIL IT STRUCK ME...

[randomfandomss]

+Bonus ✨️

[jhdyuiee]

treasure trove

𓇼 pairing: husband!johnny x fem!reader

𓇼 tags/warnings: fluff, smut!, unprotected sex, tit job, fingering, multiple positions/orgasms, oral (m receiving), tit/breast play, sucking/marking/biting, kissing/making out, dirty talk, breeding kink, cursing, name calling (good girl) & pet names (wife, babe), sex by the beach :0, rough johnny

𓇼 w.c: 2k

𓇼 a.n: hehe, i told ya'll i'd be back very soon and with my first ever johnny fic no less, hehe. anyhow this is the last release of the week, please stay tuned next weekend for my next releases! thank you for your continuous love and support, i truly appreciate it & i love ya'll just so much! until next week, jiji out 🤍

Maldives. 

Nothing beats the ocean side view. The water so clear, so exquisite. You looked out the window of the restaurant you and your husband were dining in for the night. Today marked a day until your honeymoon was over. You were a bit sad, not wanting this to end, not wanting to leave just yet.

You watched as the sun slowly set, illuminating the beautiful ocean. You were always fond of the ocean, it was the center of all your good moments in life. You teared your gaze from the beautiful ocean to the man in front of you.

Your husband: Johnny Suh.

“I’m starting to think you’re on this honeymoon with the ocean rather than with me,” Johnny says as he swirls the wine in his cup.

You couldn’t help but smile at his commentary. “Jealous of the ocean, Suh?” you teased.

“You’re a Suh too now you know,” he answered, taking the cup of wine to his lips. His face scrunches up when he gets a taste. He sets the glass down, using that hand to entwine his fingers with yours.

“Did I ever tell you how magnificent you look tonight?” your husband speaks, a slight blush adorning your cheeks.

“Yes, yes you have… in fact it's all you’ve said to be tonight,” you told your husband who just looked at you like a love struck fool. He was your fool, head over heels for you. In Johnny’s world he always thanked the lord above for letting him meet someone like you.

“Well, what can I say, my wife is simply just the most radiant woman in the whole world!” he says a bit louder, loud enough for other guests to hear.

You slightly shout his name as you see the few guests turn around to your table. Johnny just laughs, bringing your entwined hands to his lips where he kissed it so lovingly.

“I love you,” he mutters, instantly melting your heart.

“I love you too,” you tell him as you then bring his hand to your lips so you could do the same thing.

And so your dinner with Johnny continued, laughter and smiles radiating from your table. Everyone in that restaurant could feel the love surrounding you two– the newly wedded couple. Once it was time to go, Johnny made sure to take your hand–holding it real tight–and walk you to his car. You noticed there was no one else there except you two, Johnny noticed this too. And Johnny for one was someone who wouldn’t miss an opportunity to do something… revolting.

His hands quickly find their way to your waist, holding you as he slams his mouth onto yours. You could taste remnants of his wine from him, intoxicating yourself. You didn’t mean the wine, but Johnny himself, the man was like an addicting drug, something you couldn’t help but intoxicate yourself with.

You find yourself trapped, being eaten alive almost. His tongue fights against yours, dominance overriding Johnny. His hands lingered on your ass, groping it which caused you to moan into his mouth. He lightly smacks one of your cheeks before soothing it. You could feel your panties begin to wetten, yourself begin to heat up.

He parts from the heated kiss first, instead going to kiss your cheek, jaw, before settling on your neck. He uses one hand to brush away any hairs, leaving your neck in full exposure to him. He nips on your skin before sucking on it. You grab onto his brown locks, holding him as he tries marking you. You were sure you were going to be left in a body full of marks by the time ya’ll leave tomorrow. Well, not that you were complaining.

Once Johnny felt satisfied he parts from your neck, meeting you at eye level. And just as he was about to devour you again, you two hear a woman’s laughter in the distance. You two freeze, instantly sobering up. However you didn’t fail to notice the remnants of lust in Johnny's eyes.

“Just wait until we get into the villa,” he whispers into your ear before taking your hand to guide you to the passenger seat. As you take your seat and he begins to drive off, your mind wanders to all the indecencies that are about to unravel.

𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉

You two couldn’t make it past the front door before he had you two undressing. You were left in nothing, naked as he sucked on your tits. “How are you so perfect,” he groans against your breast, kissing his way to the other one where he proceeds to suck on your nipple before marking you up. You gripped onto his hair, watching as he loved on your body.

When he’s had enough he brings his lips to yours, pecking them before saying, “why don’t you take care of me now, I’ve been hard ever since the restaurant.” Johnny guides your hand to his hardened member that was still confined by his boxers. You shyly smiled before dropping onto your knees where you then proceed to take them off. His cock springs out, leaking with pre already and the tip looking red.

You licked your lips before inching towards his cock. You dart your tongue out before swirling it around his tip, licking up his pre. You groaned at the sour taste, only focusing on his tip. Johnny looks down at you with an urge to just shove himself down your throat, but he wanted you to do it yourself. He watched as your cute tongue licked his tip before licking his slit. He curses and closes his eyes at the pleasuring sensation.

You looked up, finding your husband in pure ecstasy from just some licking. You felt it was right to now kick things up a notch, so you spit on his cock. You used one of your hands to spread the spit around him, making sure to wet him well. When you felt it was wet enough you begin. 

Johnny opens his eyes again when he feels his cock slide in between something soft, something he knew all too well: your tits.

“Fuck,” Johnny curses as he watches you try to fuck his cock in between your tits. Eventually opting to help you out by thrusting himself in between them, watching as you take his tip inside your mouth.

He knew he wasn't going to last, feeling himself nearing his release. You too could feel it in the way he twitched in between you. So being the caring wife that you are, you helped him out a bit by squeezing your tits a bit tighter and taking him in your mouth more deeper.

Johnny gripped your head, holding it as he came. His warm seeds erupting inside your mouth before you swallowed them. You lick him clean one last time before getting back up. Johnny immediately kisses you, tasting himself on you. You feel as his fingers go to your dripping cunt, he moans at the amount of juice overflowing you right now. He continues, sliding them in between your pussy lips. He barely gets to your entrance before you part from the kiss to say: “Pl-Please Johnny, in-inside… inside me pl-please.”

He groans, “anything for you my wife,” he says, unable to resist your pleas.

He flips your two around, your back against the wall. He takes one of your legs into his hand, holding it as he uses his other hand to bring his cock to your dripping entrance. You watched intently, watched as you swallowed him right up. Your hands fly to his shoulders, holding him as you feel his girth spread your gummy walls apart. He was snug inside you, fitting into you just right.

“So fucking tight, feels so good,” Johnny moans against your ear before kissing it. You mutter a sultry, yes, back to him.

Johnny starts thrusting, in and out, you watched with watery eyes. The pleasure so massive as you feel his cock reach up to your cervix, kissing your womb so nicely. You chant out his name when he continues pumping his length into you ruthlessly. You could feel yourself being fucked into oblivion already. You tightened yourself even more around him. “Fuck, already gonna cum babe?” Johnny asks.

“Mmmm,” you say, unable to cohort a simple sentence. Your fingers scratched Johnny’s back as he continued pounding you against the wall.

Johnny watches you in pleasure, watching the way your tits bounced in front of him. It was a sight he couldn't pass up on. Johnny wraps his mouth around one of your nipples, sucking on the poor thing as you grew closer to your release.

Too lost in the overstimulation from his cock and mouth, you failed to notice his fingers which grazed your clit. It wasn’t until you felt them rub your clit that you felt your eyes widened. Involuntary moans erupted from you as he continued playing with your clit.

“I’m… I’m cumming,” you moaned, as you gushed around his cock. Johnny too moans, loving the way you felt as you came around his cock. He continues his thrusting, overstimulating you into mini orgasms until he finally cums. You still couldn’t get used to how much he would cum, how’d he’d fill you up with such warmth.

However, just when you thought it was over, it wasn’t. Unlike the other nights, tonight Johnny was in a desperation of more. He carried you further inside the villa, rushing to the bedroom. He plops you on the bed, feeling it dip as he climbs on as well. Johnny opens your legs, watching as your and his orgasm mixed together and dripped out of you.

“Say, my dear wife, what if we have a child,” Johnny blurts out.

You didn’t know what to say, was this the cause of his sex driven state or was he genuine? Well, whatever the case, you didn’t mind. You were always talking about how much you wanted a child and were always ready to have one if the time ever arose.

“Do it, get me pregnant tonight my dear husband,” you whispered, pecking his lips. you were testing him, a test Johnny wasn’t going to play by tonight. He backs up a bit, spreading your legs wider before positioning his cock in between your folds. He rubs himself in between them, gathering the remnants of his leaking cum only to push them back inside.

“Y-Yes,” you moaned, “I could feel you so deep.”

Johnny smirks, watching your face twist in pleasure, watching as your eyes glistened with tears. He pistoned his thrust, hips slapping against your ass. He continues his ruthless thrust in and out of your cunt as the squelching sounds echoed in the room. He was wrecking your cunt, trying to make sure he was the only one that could ever leave you satisfied for all your life.

“Keep squeezing me babe and you’ll milk me in no time,” he groans, feeling as you squeezed him. “Good girl, just like that,” he then says as he rubs your clit once more.

“I’m go-gonna cum,” you moaned, tongue lolling out, “Cum wi-with me!”

His thrusting falters, going irregular until he finally cums inside you for a second time tonight. Yet he wasn’t done, he still had a promise to uphold. The promise to make sure you left this trip pregnant with his child, our child. And so he fucks his cum into you deeper, not stopping until he’s sure he’s made you pregnant. 

𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉

Once everything seemed all perfect to him, Johnny takes his cock out of your stuffed pussy. Remnants of his animalistic side, subduing and being replaced by a gentle and cuddly husband. Johnny engulfed you into his body, his warmth, as he whispered sweet-nothings into your ear. 

Then everything fell silent, the ocean waves sounding in the distance lulling you to sleep. You peacefully slept in Johnny’s arms, resting after a long day and night. In the midst of you sleep you felt a hand graze your stomach, and a loving whisper in your ear.

“I promise to protect you both, my treasures.”

© jhdyuiee

2024. 11. 10

final a.n: have a great weekend! stay safe! & creds to the person who created the dividers, i lost their tumblr page so i couldn't tag them ahhh

[capquinn]

hungover and the only thing that will bring me comfort is knowing how Quinn, Bug, and family celebrated the new year back in Vancouver since he wasn’t with the team due to injury 🤣

happy new year, sweet nonny!!!! this is far too late but its fine!!! nye is a state of mind. hope u enjoy! <3

New Year’s Eve unfolded quietly, wrapped in the soft hum of family life. The world outside buzzed with plans, celebrations, and countdowns, but inside, the four of you moved at your own rhythm. It was quieter this year — different, maybe, but in the best way. Quinn’s injury meant he hadn’t traveled with the team, and while that usually would’ve tugged at him, on New Years Eve, he felt nothing but gratitude. He was right where he was meant to be: at home with his babies — one nestled safely in his cot, the other sprawled across the living room rug — and you, steady as ever, his anchor in every way, right by his side.

Cubby had gone down like clockwork, his little eyes fluttering shut before the clock even struck seven. Quinn had lingered in the nursery after tucking him in, one hand resting gently on Cub’s back, feeling the soft rise and fall of his breaths. The dim glow of the nightlight painted the room in quiet warmth, and he stood there longer than necessary, savouring these last hours of 2024 with his tiny boy, and he didn’t leave until the weight of time gently nudged him to.

When he finally joined you in the living room, Bug had been sprawled out on the floor in her pyjamas, half-heartedly building something with her blocks while the movie she’d so confidently picked out droned on in the background.

“She’s holding on,” Quinn murmured, dropping onto the couch beside you, his lips curving into a small smile. “Barely.”

You laughed, watching as Bug stifled a yawn, her hand moving to rub her eyes. “I give her ten minutes.”

“Five,” Quinn countered, stretching his arm along the back of the couch, his fingers brushing your shoulder.

And he had been right. Not even five minutes later, Bug abandoned her toys in favour of climbing onto Quinn’s lap, her little arms winding around his neck.

“I’m not sleepy,” she mumbled, her face pressed against his chest.

“No? Not even a little?” Quinn had teased her, his hand settling on her back, rubbing slow circles. She shook her head stubbornly but didn't protest when her eyes fluttered shut moments later.

“Didn’t even make it through the movie,” you whispered, leaning closer to stroke Bug’s hair. Quinn tilted, his head toward you, his lips brushing your temple.

“She tried,” he murmured, his voice low, full of fondness.

You and Quinn stayed like that for a while, speaking in soft tones as the minutes slipped closer to midnight. The wine bottle on the coffee table had lost its chill, your glasses half-full as you tipped them lazily between your fingers as his hand found yours, his thumb brushing softly over your knuckles as the apartment settled into a quiet lull.

When the clock neared midnight, you nudged Quinn gently. He glanced down at Bug, her face slack with sleep, and smiled.

“Buggy,” he murmured, his voice coaxing but quiet. “C’mon, sweetheart, wake up. It’s almost time.”

Her eyes fluttered open, hazy with sleep but sparking with excitement as she realised what was happening.

“Fireworks?” she mumbled, her voice soft, hopeful.

“Yeah, baby,” you said, tucking the blanket more securely around her shoulders as Quinn scooped her into his arms. “Let’s go see.”

You followed them out to the veranda, draping your cardigan over your shoulders as the chill of the Vancouver night greeted you. Quinn adjusted Bug on his hip, her head resting against his shoulder, her tiny hand clutching his shirt.

Quinn’s gaze never left her, his own awe eclipsed by hers. His lips quirked into a soft, lopsided smile, the kind that always seemed reserved just for her. The way her tiny mouth parted in wonder, her small fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt, made his chest ache in the best way.

He leaned his head slightly to the side, brushing a kiss against her temple, his voice soft and full of warmth as he murmured, “pretty cool, huh, Buggy?”

Bug nodded, her little arms wrapped tight around his neck as she rested her head against his shoulder. The next firework exploded higher, brighter — a brilliant white that illuminated everything for the briefest of moments, casting long shadows across the veranda where you were all huddled together.

Quinn’s gaze lingered on the sky for a brief moment, drawn to the vibrant bursts painting the night. Golds, reds, and blues fanned out like brushstrokes, lighting the city below in fleeting, brilliant colours. His lips twitched into a soft smile, caught in the beauty of it all — but only for a second. Because then his focus shifted, drawn to you.

The fireworks continued to explode overhead, but Quinn barely noticed. His attention settled on the way your cardigan slipped slightly off your shoulder, the faint chill of the night air brushing against your skin, and the way your lips softened into a small smile, your gaze alight with the same wonder Bug had, even as you stole a glance at her resting against his chest.

“Happy New Year, baby,” he murmured, his voice quieter now.

You turned your head toward him, your eyes meeting his, and the rest of the world seemed to fade into the background.

“Happy New Year,” you whispered back, your words carrying the kind of warmth that settled deep in his chest.

Above you, the finale began, a series of bursts that filled the sky in a symphony of light and sound. Bug gasped, her tiredness momentarily forgotten as she marvelled at the brilliant patterns weaving across the sky.

When the last firework faded and the city settled back into quiet, you scooped Cub from his cot, his tiny body still warm with sleep, while Quinn carried Bug to the bedroom. It was a tradition you’d started the first New Year’s Eve after Bug was born, when she was still so small, her tiny body nestled between the two of you in bed. Back then, you’d decided — almost offhandedly — that no matter where in the world life took you, you’d greet the New Year as a family, all together.

Bug sprawled out in the middle of the bed, her limbs stretched in every direction, while Cub curled against Quinn’s chest, one little hand fisting his shirt even in sleep. You tucked yourself close to Quinn’s other side, your hand resting lightly on his chest where Cub was nestled.

“Just like every year," Quinn murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. His lips lingered there for a moment, and you felt the warmth of his breath as he exhaled, his voice thick with quiet gratitude. His hand brushed lightly over Cub’s tiny back, the steady rise and fall of his breathing steadying them both.

You nestled closer, your fingers absently tracing small circles on his chest, where the soft fabric of his shirt met Cub’s delicate grip.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” you whispered, your voice drowsy.

Quinn glanced down at Bug, sprawled out in her usual starfish position, her little foot nudging against his thigh as she shifted in her sleep. A quiet chuckle rumbled through his chest, and he wrapped his arm more securely around you. You looked up at him then, catching the way his gaze lingered on the two of them — soft, awestruck, like he couldn’t quite believe this was his life.

You pressed a kiss to his shoulder, letting your eyes flutter shut, the sound of your babies’ soft, even breaths lulling you closer to sleep.

[mncxbe]

Every girl gets her wish𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

𝑭𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒛𝒂𝒘𝒂, 𝑭𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒄𝒉𝒊 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff/ official appreciation post for my fav bsd dilfs/not proofread

𝑭𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒛𝒂𝒘𝒂

The amber bubbles fizzed up as Dazai poured the last drop of champagne in your glass. "Don't drink yet we've still got a few minutes left until midnight" announced the brunette, earning a nod from you.

Holding the stem of the glass between your middle and ring finger, crystal bowl resting in the palm of your hand, you made your way to the back of the terrace leaning against the ivy covered brick wall. It was a pretty location the president rented for the new year's eve party; golden lights, cozy wooden tables and cushy sofas and most importantly unlimited food and drinks.

You've already had your fair share of cocktails and shots and your body felt warm, cheeks lightly flushed, mind hazy. Your gaze instinctively sought the familiar head of silvery hair and found it on the other side of the terrace. Fukuzawa was leaning against the railing talking, as per usual, to Ranpo. The longer strands of his hair fell down the black lapel of his suit, bangs framing the sharp lines of his features. Fuck, he looked so handsome in this light.

As if reading your thoughts Ranpo's head snapped in your direction, giving you a mischevious smile. He knew of your crush on your boss, of course he knew and it didn't help your situation at all. Just then, the older man turned his head to face you and you smiled weakly, waving at them. You were about to die of embarassment when you realised how much you were blushing. Fuck your low alcohol tolerance and the stupid feelings that took over you whenever you saw him.

And then you saw him walk in your direction; clearing your throat, you gave him your sweetest smile.

"Good evening, Y/N. Are you enjoying yourself?" he asked casually, leaning on the wall beside you.

"Yes, boss, very much. I love this place it's... very lovely" you babbled out, hurriendly taking a sip of your drink to drown your rapid heartbeat.

"I'm glad to hear that" he smiled, oh that rare, genuine smile that made you weak in the knees. You didn't know what else to say so you simply nodded, biting down on your glossy lip as you looked at your glass. Waiting for him to leave. But he didn't. Fukuzawa remained by your side, taking occasional sips from his own drink and checking his clock. The silence was starting to feel awkward and you damned yourself for acting so silly. 'Come on, girl, you got this just say something' was the best encouragement you could come up with. Taking in a deep breath you opened your mouth but before you got the chance to speak Fukuzawa leaned closer to you.

"You're a remarkable woman, Y/N. I hope you know that." he said softly. In the background you could already hear the thrilled voices of your colleagues doing the countdown. 10...9...8 "Would you maybe consider allowing me to..." he continued, his voice trailing off as he traced the contour of your cheery-wine coloured lips with his thumb, making your heart skip a beat.

7...6...5. You nodded eagerly, swallowing down every last shred doubt and looked up at him, meeting his warm gaze. 4...3...2. He smiled, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer, his deep, vanilla tinged scent making your knees weak. And then he did it. When the clock struck midnight he kissed you, a soft kiss that seemed almost innocent if it hadn't been for the fierce, posessive grip he had on your hip.

When you eventually pulled away you couldn't help but smile. Leaning against one another, the two of you shared the usual Happy new years right before you gazed over Fukuzawa's shoulder, eyes landing on Ranpo who gave you a thumbs up, grinning. The blush immediately returned to your face and you hid your face in the man's shoulder, praying that no one else saw the kiss you two shared. plot twist later in the evening Ranpo spread the news.

𝑭𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒄𝒉𝒊

You knew that working for the Hunting Dogs was going to be quite a demanding job but you never expected to be called in for a mission on New Year's Eve. Still, at 9 in the evening the captain sent you a quick text asking to accompany him on a mission. "Sorry, sweetheart, but I can't reach the others. I expect you to be at the warehouses in 30." was all the explanations you were given before you hastly put on your uniform and left your apartment.

It was almost midnight when you were done and due to the late hour no cabs were available, leaving you with no hope of getting back home to your friends.

"What a bummer..." you mumbled under your breath, leaning against the metal railing that lined the frothy shore. The metallic smell of fireworks and cheap firecrackers filled the chilly winter air.

"It can't be helped sometimes, when duty calls we answer" said your superior in his usual condescending tone, standing by your side. He lazily procured a cigarette from a crumpled pack in the pocket of his jacket and lit it before checking the time. "Three more minutes 'till midnight. I guess you're stuck with me tonight"

You simply nodded in response, humming a disinterested mhm. Frankly, you couldn't care less who you spent new year's eve with; it was just another night of the year. But having to sit outside in the crisp December air, watching happy couples cooing at each other and sharing kisses wasn't exactly ideal. You thought of your friends; bundled up on your balcony getting ready to open the bottle of champagne you spent a quarter of your salary on and couldn't help but feel a tinge of jealousy.

You were too lost in thought to notice when the clock struck midnight. As if on que the sky erupted in bright neon colours; ruby red, champagne gold and shades of blue painting the blackness above. The few couples nearby began kissing, each person giving their partner a lovesick grin that made your stomach churn. It wasn't fair. Why couldn't you have that too?

"What's with that pouty face?" Fukuchi asked casually, his gaze landing on the couple seated on the bench in front of you. "Ah I see how it is. You want your midnight kiss, right?"

Before you could answer he cupped your jaw with a gloved hand making you face him as he leaned in "I believe I can help with that"

Despite how cold you were heat bloomed in your abdomen, a rosy blush tinting your cheeks. "No need sir I'm fine really~" you stammered, trying to look at anything else beside him.

"Nonsense, sweetheart. You're already stuck out here because of me. It's the least I can do." he chuckled, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips. You couldn't deny how tempting the offer was. After all, you did develop a little crush on your boss during the few months you worked as a hunting dog. He seemed to be quite fond of you too, always taking you on missions with him, even going so far as to call you sweetheart when it was just the two of you so... maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all.

Before you knew it you leaned in, hesitantly pressing your lips against his. His hand left your face and slid to the nape of your neck fingers entangling in your hair, giving it a gentle tug. Taking the hint you parted your lips, allowing him to slip his tongue in your mouth and deepen the kiss. It was messy, a needy kiss that made your head fuzzy. He tasted just like you imagined: cigarettes and bourbon.

When he eventually pulled away his signature smirk was plastered on his face "How was that for a midnight kiss? Is my favourite girl satisfied?"

You couldn't help but smilen, that damned lovesick grin you so hated to see on other people. "Yea, I'm happy now". Taking a last drag from his cigarette he flicked the bud on the ground and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. You instinctively leaned closer to him, your head coming to rest on his chest. Smiling down at you, Fukuchi gave your arm a loving squeeze "Happy new year, Y/N"

[crguang]

a lover’s goodbye kiss

Are we ever truly done with grief?

angst, gn!reader, ptsd. 6k words of mourning and bitter reunions

A/N: this really got away from me, i also cried while writing it so do with that what you will. not entirely satisfied with it, but it’s okay. hope someone enjoys it regardless

Grief is a part of you. It seeps into your pores, settles in your bloodstream like cancerous chemicals and forces you to live with it, to endure the brunt of it lest memories pull you under permanently. For long-life species, grief is ironically common. The belief that Xianzhou natives are unaccustomed to death is a false one; though it is slow to come, it envelops them regardless, often twice over. The Mara curse is first. Its inevitability leaves an imprint in people’s hearts, a sort of impression they are born with and cannot outgrow. To be a long-life species is to become Mara-struck, a shell of your former self driven by bloodlust and fragmented memories. That, in itself, is death. Your body is no longer your own and neither is your mind, you are a senseless abomination destined to roam the world until someone or something delivers the fatal, long-awaited blow needed to end your misery. Though this heavy subject is not often discussed among the people, accepting that fate is done with bloodied teeth and scorched fingertips, a personal battle with grief from which you come out only somewhat victorious. Knowing that you’ll eventually be stricken by Mara is one thing, accepting that your loved ones will walk the same path is another entirely. No one talks about the worst part. Nobody tells you what you’re supposed to do when the memories fade away, replaced by the acrid smell of sulfur and a chill in your bones that you can never shake.

Hundreds of years of memories— content smiles, sun rays onto sweaty skin, cold hands in pale locks of hair, unspoken devotion— are hidden behind mist requiring immense focus to see through. You are not Mara-struck yet. Your mind is still your own, as much as it can be, and you are still alive. You ask yourself why often. Why it was her, first, and not you. Why you’re stuck living with holes inside of you when maybe you should’ve died along with the hundred Cloud Knights that had the misfortune of crossing her path that night. Loss has made you ashamed, you can’t even speak her name. It’d been erased from history and forbidden after that night, out of social disappointment and shame, but that is not why you can’t bear to utter it. It’s unfair that this is what you remember most of her; the collapsed buildings, the unbearable smell, the frozen corpses… Her beloved blade through your stomach. The way her gaze softened after a few glasses of wine has been replaced by the flash of crimson you caught a glimpse of before her sword buried itself in your guts. You vaguely recall how endearingly tight her muscles always were, how you or Baiheng had to smooth the knots out of her body once in a while. The news of her breaking out of the Shackling Prison, however, along with the screams that followed form a clear image in your treacherous mind. What use are memories if they are so fickle, so easily supplanted by horrors that quicken your heartbeat on thought alone?

If anything, you do not shoulder this immense grief alone. Jing Yuan was a scrawny, eager boy when you first met him, almost half your height and always trailing behind her like the dutiful apprentice he was. His enthusiasm lit up the training yard and his youthful determination quickly earned him a place amongst your most cherished. He would seek you out after hours of conditioning, sweat still clinging to his bushy brows, and request a friendly spar to show you what he’s learned, how fast he was getting, how swift he could slash his sword. Your position as a Lieutenant of the Cloud Knights made him look at you with naked admiration, he’d hang onto your every word with a seriousness unfit of his age and at times offered insight only a boy who had never known war could come up with. You think you remember a figure in the shade of a growing tree standing several feet away from where you and Jing Yuan sparred. Quiet as a golden eagle, diligent gaze making note of every sloppy thrust and slow retreat she would reproach her retainer afterwards, his master only revealed herself when the tip of your blade against his neck announced his defeat.

Jing Yuan was the one to rescue you on the ice. His quick intervention allowed for healers from the Alchemy Commission to reach you in time and tend to your injuries. He was also the one to end her. It had to be him, you know, but you regret your own weakness, your faltering steps and half-hearted parries— it’s a burden you wish he never carried. He bears it with a solemn glint in his eyes and an impeccable posture but he’s not General of the Xianzhou Luofu to you, and so he lets you keep him close whenever he visits your empty home. His appreciation for the comfort goes unsaid, though his shoulders stand inches lower once he sets out the door. After all, he lost her too.

You get déjà vu when Jing Yuan walks across the training yard with a skinny blonde boy in tow and introduces him as his retainer, Yanqing. His apprentice is just as eager and energetic as he was, and it’s easy to fall back into old habits when the boy eventually nags you into sparring with him. He’s talented, determined to achieve his goals, but a little too proud and overconfident. His arrogance reminds you of an old friend who once forged the sword you still wield like an extension of your arm. It’s somewhat endearing, and not entirely unearned. A part of you vaguely recalls the annoyed purse of the Sword Champion’s lips whenever your mutual friend would go on another spiel about mastering the way of the sword. Your fingertips trace the sheath of your blade at the thought.

The Stellaron crisis plunges the Luofu into disarray. It brings destruction and death to the Xianzhou on a scale that reminds you of her, of the illuminated moon in the night sky and the blood on your hands. You can’t allow the memories to paralyze you like they often do, however, so you work with Jing Yuan and the Master Diviner in order to eliminate the internal threat that pose the Disciples of Sanctus Medicus. The Mara-struck fall twice under your steel and the rest of the Abundance’s abominations quickly become light work for someone as experienced as you are. Since the Ambrosial Arbor crisis, they’ve been gathering in Stargazer Navalia the most, forcing an evacuation of all civilians to safer areas of the Luofu.

Though he has plenty of work on his hands, this is where Yanqing likes to disappear for an hour each day— additional training, he says. You trust his abilities, but today he is needed at the Alchemy Commission and is currently unreachable. No one has seen him for a while. You have an idea of his whereabouts, so you offer to look for him and relay the General’s message.

Two Cloud Knights stand guard as you enter Stargazer Navalia. Their posture straightens when they see you and they nod once in greeting.

“Has anyone seen Lieutenant Yanqing come through here, by any chance?”

One of them replies, “He was there an hour ago on an official investigation. Passed through here and went further into the docks.”

You don’t know about any official investigations but you offer a thankful nod anyway before walking past the Knights. The large shipping containers and crates create paths that workers use during the day but you figure it’d be easier to look for Yanqing if you had a better view of the area. You jump on top of a container and carefully skim the place ahead. As expected, abominations and Mara-struck lay on the floor, strewn about like discarded clothing. You follow their trail further inside Stargazer Navalia, between growing starskiffs and through already opened doors. It takes a little over ten minutes to catch up with the freshly cut-down enemies laying about as you hop from container to container. Shards of rock hard ice glimmer in the sun near the bodies, no doubt Yanqing’s doing. Honestly, that boy…

You can see his blonde hair when you advance a little further. He’s turning a corner, so you take a shortcut running above a long, empty container and land on the one behind him with a thud. The sudden noise alerts him and he swirls around with a hand on his sword, ready to attack, but you’re not looking at him. The ghost of a woman long gone stands beside him, her back to you, with a stillness that indicates she’s been aware of you before you made your presence known. The sight of her pale locks burns into your brain. The intricate design of the familiar attire she dons chokes you like firm hands around your throat, and you falter. The blues and whites and reds mix together as you blink to regain your footing.

“Lieutenant!” Yanqing straightens up, sheathing his blade. “What are you doing here?”

You taste ash on the roof of your mouth. Your fingers curl around the handle of your sword. Falling buildings, frozen corpses, sulfur burning your nostrils. Her blade through your stomach. (Hesitant fingertips against your cheeks, implied confessions, oiled palms on tense muscles.) A feeling that has been dormant for centuries stirs in your guts, snakes around your intestines and tightens your stomach. It travels through your ribcage and up your bobbing throat, forcing you to swallow it back down. There’s the slow ascent of the moon behind your eyelids with each blink and the stutter of your chest with each breath— a chill spreads over your limbs and they tense as if frozen in place. It paralyzes you; you feel mocked by the way your feet are glued to the metal under them. You are reminded of your previous weakness, of your blood on the ice and its frigidity seeping into your skin. You grit your teeth.

“Jingliu…” Her name is forced past your lips, evicted after uncomfortably sitting on your tongue for hundreds of years.

She does not move, except for the flicker of recognition that goes through her fingertips. A mirage, she has to be— a nasty trick of your fractured mind because she cannot be here, breathing, when Jing Yuan assured you of her demise.

“Huh? You know her?” Yanqing asks, oblivious to your struggle as he glances back to the woman next to him. His query confirms that she is flesh and blood but leaves no hint as to her state of mind. If she is the same as she was centuries ago, then he and the Luofu are in great danger.

“…Yanqing. The General is looking for you. Alchemy Commission.”

The boy frowns. “Did something happen? There’s something I have to finish up before—“

“Yanqing.”

He stops in his tracks with furrowed brows, displeased at having been interrupted. You finally tear your gaze away from Jingliu’s tense posture to look at him. He sees your hardened eyes and hesitates, turning towards his new acquaintance for a few seconds before clenching his jaw and nodding once. You outrank him, and though it often pains him to do so, Yanqing knows to respect the Cloud Knights hierarchy. He walks away without a word and disappears between the various shipping containers.

You stand above her, a hand on your blade, and breathe in the smell of the docks to loosen the pressure in your guts. It’s the middle of the day, the weather is warm, your skin is uncut. Blurry images of grasping hands sinking into bed sheets and locking lips fill your mind until you can’t see anything but the way her asymmetric bangs frame her face as she hovers over you, breathless. The crimson of her irises are dulled to a lustful cherry and she looks at you like she doesn’t believe you’re real. A fragment of her one-track mind and hateful heart made tangible for one night, to appease the disgusting yearning for closeness that lingers in her bones. She is not a weapon used against the Abundance and you are more than the fellow Cloud Knight that joined the ranks before she was thrusted into them. As her knuckle trails down your cheekbone to the corner of your parted lips, you are a new constant in her future, an immovable force that she cannot plan around, and she is just a woman. Not a survivor, not a fighter, she is a woman who longs for another’s recognition and gentle hands. And as she leans down to graze her bottom lip against your top one, you feel the searing pain of her blade piercing your flesh.

Blood trickles on your tongue and you realize it is from how hard you are biting the inside of your cheek. The visions are gone, replaced by Jingliu turning around to face you, her free hands limp at her sides. Her chin tilts slightly upward. She’s wearing a dark blindfold over her eyes— some part of you is grateful to be hidden from her sight— but you know it wouldn’t alter any of her abilities.

“Lieutenant…” She only says a word, trails off as if it leaves a strange sensation in her mouth. It’s not a question or a tentative statement; she utters your title with an infuriating fondness, like you’re an old friend she hasn’t seen in a while. It makes you sick.

“…You are not dead,” you state blankly.

Jingliu takes a short breath. “Not yet, no.”

There’s a sluggishness to her words and a rasp more prominent than you recall it to be. Her voice is raw and breathy like every sentence comes at a price, and you are reminded of the curse that plagues her. You don’t understand how she’s standing here, seemingly sane, when the Mara had overcome her the last time you laid eyes on her. Still, the hand on your sword tightens its hold. There’s a thousand things you want to ask, a thousand more you wish to convey through touch alone, but you cannot trust her.

You wonder if she remembers almost ending your life. You wonder if she is haunted by regret and grief the same way you are. You wonder if some part of her still clings to that stricken body.

“You can let go of your sword,” Jingliu says, “I mean the Luofu no harm.”

“And me?”

“...You?”

You swallow a lump in your throat. Your toes tingle with sudden restlessness and it thaws the rest of your limbs, allowing you to take a measured step forward. “And me, Jingliu? Will you draw your blade against me once more?”

She is silent for some time, tense, and her fingers slightly curl inward in a momentary loss of composure. You can’t tell if it’s because she doesn’t recall ever doing that or because she does and the thought brings her pain. Finally, she shakes her head.

“You are not my enemy.”

“I wasn’t your enemy back then, was I?”

“…Your trust in me is inconsequential. I came to the Luofu to atone for my sins and surrender myself to the Alliance.”

Your jaw clenches. Past the initial confusion, you feel cheated. Angry. Hundreds of years of broken memories, lasting grief and paralyzing terror have eroded you, flayed you until you are nothing but bones and ligaments. You are walking the earth as less than half a person for no other reason than this is the destiny of all long-life species. Your closest friends have either fallen or withered around you, and that loneliness has debilitated you. How utterly unfair. You have dedicated most of your life to the Xianzhou Alliance and its people, you have been selfless, understanding, devoted, and you are rewarded with injustice. The person who you once called your strength has become the main character in your nightmares, and here she stands, ready to give up the pieces that are left of her to the same people who have ostracized her out of shame for centuries. For all the unbearable pain she caused you, she came back for them. You are the one she has a history with, you are the one whose life is intricately woven with hers. You are who she should be seeking atonement from, not the Ten-Lords Commission and the Arbiter Generals.

You don’t notice how pale your knuckles are from the grip on your weapon or the heaviness of your chest quickening your breath. You stare her down with gritted teeth and Jingliu doesn’t shy away from the growing fury in your gaze.

“Inconsequential,” you repeat in disbelief, your voice a little louder. “Inconsequential, me!”

“This is what I have to do. It is bigger than you, bigger than me.”

You jump down the container to land in front of her. She simply adjusts the inclination of her head.

“Do you remember, Jingliu? What you did to me?”

Her lips form a thin line. Her lack of response angers you further. You unsheath your sword and point the tip to her own weapon resting against her hip, then to her chest.

“Draw it.”

Jingliu makes no move to obey. “I will only unsheath my blade against my enemies, and you are not one of them.”

“You are cursed to forget, but I cannot. It is in every blink, in every pause; the destruction you caused, my—” you swallow, features twisting in a pained grimace, “my blood on your sword.”

Jingliu doesn’t reply, though her fingers twitch with restraint. Her chest rises and falls a beat faster, the only indication that your words are getting to her. You know this is unfair, that you’re only contributing to the injustice you have to face as a long-life species, but anger clouds your judgment and incites this hostile behavior.

“Draw it!” You exclaim in frustration. “Unsheath your blade and face me!”

You lunge forward in an instant, your weapon raised in a practiced arc towards her neck, forcing her to move out of the way. Her body instinctively bends into a defensive stance, but she makes no move to use her sword. You repeat the motion, over and over, and Jingliu evades each strike with an expertise only she possesses. She still refuses to fight you, to revert to the mindless abomination she was that night. You force her into a corner and as your blade descends at an angle to make contact with her bare shoulder, she leaps high over your head and lands gracefully behind you.

“Must we do this?” She sounds mentally exhausted, each word is spoken through pursed lips and a quiver goes through her sword-wielding hand.

You swirl around, molars grinding in anger. “Yes! You have haunted every part of me and replaced every cherished memory in my mind! You are what I see when I lay down at night, standing over me as I choke on my own blood!”

Jingliu brings a clawed hand to her temple and utters, “Enough…”

“You are the face of my nightmares, Jingliu.” Your voice cracks halfway through the sentence. “It ends today.”

When your weapon comes down to strike her this time, its steel meets Jingliu’s specially crafted blade. She uses the momentum of her parry and pushes you back with so much force it sends you flying, your back colliding into the side of a shipping container. You rise to your feet with a shaky breath.

The clash of swords rings in the air as you move between incubating starskiffs and metal crates in an emotional dance. Street lamps fall, stationed starskiffs are cut in two, jade wheels are damaged and incubators break. Jets of their liquid explode everywhere Jingliu returns your strikes with stronger ones, and soon you’re crashing into yet another door. Blood trickles down your nose. There’s a nasty cut on your hip that will require medical attention. You stand, unwavering, and pounce towards the other woman once more. Jingliu grits her teeth as her parry brings your face close to hers. The distinct melody of her blade in movement fills her ears and the ground shakes under her feet. All around you structures are falling, narrowly missing you.

Your muscles strain with exertion but with the feeling comes a strange sort of relief that only intensifies when Jingliu has you pinned to the pavement, swords previously discarded some feet away with an experienced flick of her hand. You’re both breathless for a long moment and for the first time since her reappearance in your life, you don’t taste smoke in the back of your throat.

The pink of her parted lips is the same shade it was almost a millennia ago. The world blurs and you see a flash of a moment long passed of the two of you in the same position; Jingliu’s smug smile hides the sun from view and the bustle of the training yard resumes the minute her victory is announced. When you blink your way back to reality, only a few seconds have gone by. You stare up into the blindfold, chest heaving. Your fingers hesitantly lift to graze the apple of her cheek. One of them slides under her veil and her hand wraps around your wrist to stop you from going further.

Her name is a breathy exhale past your lips. Her shoulders suddenly tense and her head tilts away from you. The moment breaks as she separates from you, rises to her feet and takes a couple steps back. Almost immediately, Cloud Knights rush to the scene in formation, followed closely by the General and his retainer. You let out a sigh, gaze raising to the clear sky. You lose yourself in its endless blue, a heaviness in your chest, until Jing Yuan’s outstretched hand appears in your vision. Jingliu is gone when you accept his help and stand with difficulty, along with Yanqing and the squad of Knights. Jing Yuan wraps a strong arm around your shoulders, steadying you, and you make your way back in silence.

He doesn’t leave your side even as you step into your home and make a beeline for the bathroom. His arms are crossed over his chest and he leans on the doorframe as you rummage through your cupboards for bandages and disinfectant. You find what you’re looking for after a couple minutes and sit on the toilet seat, lifting your armor over your head and discarding the bloodied shirt underneath. The cut on your left hip stings when you gently inspect it. It’s deep enough that it won’t be able to close on its own but not life threatening. You softly apply disinfectant so it doesn’t get infected, clenching your jaw at the pain.

“You should let the Dragon Lady take a look,” Jing Yuan finally speaks up, “or the Alchemy Commission have other experienced healers. They’ll treat you in minutes.”

You almost roll your eyes. You’ve been patching up wounds before he could hold a sword.

“Pass me the stitches.”

He complies, tossing you the plastic box on the counter. You catch it with a hand. Another silence settles between you as you sink the needle into your skin and tighten the thread, occasionally sucking in a breath. The space lingers with tension but neither of you acknowledges it until you break the thread of the stitches and apply a large bandage over the wound. You sigh tiredly and raise your head to meet his guarded gaze.

“Why did you lie, Jing Yuan?”

He takes a moment to reply. There’s a hint of guilt in his golden irises. “…I thought it to be the best course of action at the time.”

You don’t blame him. The days following Jingliu’s departure from the Luofu are a blur, hidden behind a smoke screen so thick you might as well have forgotten them. You only recall the sting in your throat, raw from how much you cried, and the darkness of your bedroom. Jing Yuan was there, as much as he was able to, so he must remember those days better than you; how shattered you were, like fractured shards of glass swept under the carpet. You can’t fault him for wanting to bring you closure.

You rise from your seat and put back the supplies in their rightful place. Jing Yuan steps aside as you walk out the door and watches you disappear in the bedroom for a change of clothes. You grab the first top you see and shrug it on. You don’t bother fixing your hair, you just make your way back to the living area to put on your boots and grab your discarded sword near the door. Jingliu should have been brought to the Shackling Prison after her arrest, so this is where you’ll go.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Jing Yuan says from behind you, making you pause. “We don’t know how stable she is.”

“She seemed stable enough.”

“For now.”

You turn to face him. “Then, why are you here? We both know bars can’t hold her.”

“I wanted to check up on you.”

“...I need to do this.”

Jing Yuan only shuts his eyes in defeat and nods once. He doesn’t follow you when you leave the house and shut the door behind you.

You have no issue getting into the Shackling Prison and acquiring Jingliu’s cell number. It’s not a place you visit often despite your position, the memories it holds have a way of consuming you and leaving you clenching your throbbing head. You navigate its somber hallways and silent cell blocks with an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. Your steps are swift, determined. You don’t stop to think about what you’re going to say once you’re face to face with her again. Jingliu is being held in a special containment chamber only used for dangerous criminals, with two Cloud Knights standing guard in front of the reinforced steel door. They look at each other when you plant yourself before them.

“No one gets in, General’s orders,” one of them says.

Your relationship with Jing Yuan is not a secret and often opens a lot of doors for you but encountering soldiers eager to please is a common occurrence. You have a few dozens under your command, they’re usually easy to deal with. However, the day has been long and you’re lacking the required patience to do so.

“Take it up with Jing Yuan, then.”

You push past them and they hesitate to stop you, glancing at each other. They grip their lances tighter when you open the door but don’t move as you enter the cell and close it after you.

The chamber is big enough to hold a single bed and a toilet in the corner, though its grey walls make it seem smaller than it is. The room would be casted in total darkness if not for the dim glow of the singular lightbulb on the ceiling. Jingliu is seated on the untouched mattress, legs crossed and palms flat on her knees. Her back is straight, her blindfold in place even in the low lighting, and you seem to have caught her in the middle of a meditation. She doesn’t speak as you stand awkwardly near the door, a hand curling around the handle of your sword in search of familiarity.

A couple minutes pass in tense silence with only the gentle buzzing of the electricity crackling through the lightbulb. You take that time to observe Jingliu for any sign of Mara. The even movements of her chest indicate her calm state of mind. Apart from the veil, she looks exactly the same as she did centuries ago; there’s no trace of the curse on her, and you are suddenly reminded of the first time you noticed her— you were the previous Lieutenant’s apprentice and she was a thin, pale girl haunted by nightmares of burning planets and suffocating fumes. That day, she crossed the training yard with a limp and cuts over her body, shattered sword held tight in one hand. You hadn’t gone out onto the field yet, your master didn’t think you were ready, but Jingliu had and you remember thinking that despite her poor state, she must be stronger than you. She would walk back at the end of each day with splintered and bruised skin and you would sneak her a glance, wondering what enemy she could have encountered this time. She was forced to survive and grew on the battlefield long before you did.

While you both learned the way of the sword, you did it to protect and she did it to cut down the object of her nightmares. Together, you climbed the ranks of the Cloud Knights and surpassed your masters. The burden of war brought you closer and your relationship transformed over the centuries; from comrades, to friends, to the one she went to whenever she craved peace from the visions plaguing her, to something more. You are deeply embedded in each other, her life story is yours and your mind is hers. The Mara curse might twist your perceived memories of her but it could never erase the affection you hold for her. It’s precisely because she means so much to you that thoughts of her have been tormenting you so.

Jingliu raises her head in acknowledgement and you’re brought back to the present with a blink.

“Sending you to interrogate me,” she says with a short exhale, words slow and raw, “how cruel.”

“That’s not why I’m here.”

She doesn’t reply, waiting for you to continue. You swallow the emotion in your throat.

“I’m here for closure.”

You take your eyes off her and turn away, facing the blank wall with a hand in your hair. You take in a slow breath and exhale through your mouth as fatigue begins to take over your limbs.

“You don’t get to come back,” you start. “After all those years, you don’t get to reappear and trail all those memories along with you. You said you were seeking atonement from the Alliance. So you remember, then.”

Jingliu is silent for a moment. Your back makes contact with the wall as you sit on the floor with your legs limp before you. You don’t look at her, instead staring at your covered toes.

“…I remember the voices,” Jingliu says softly, “so loud I couldn’t hear anything else. I remember people, the ice… you.” She takes a breath and shakes her head. “I am aware of the hurt I’ve caused, of the sins that cannot be erased. They will follow me until the end, but I cannot let them hold me back.”

“From what?”

“From cutting the heart of a star.”

The turn of phrase transports you back to a drunken evening and Baiheng’s contagious laughter, to the sweet aftertones of fruit in red wine and the flush in Jingliu’s cheeks as she stares at the setting sun. Flashes of that day appear in your mind; Baiheng’s ridiculous dares, your shared competitiveness, Jingliu’s tipsy kisses as consolation prizes. The unexpected memory warms you.

“Revenge, then. Even stricken with Mara, this is what you hold on to.”

“I was never satisfied with letting our enemies come to us.”

That much is true. Jingliu only ever plays the offensive.

Your head turns to face her. “Do you remember us? Even I only recall bits and pieces, now.”

Jingliu’s pointer finger taps her knee for some time. Then her chin tilts to the left, towards you.

“Bits and pieces, yes…” she repeats pensively. You wish you could see the pinch of her eyebrows. “You used to hate losing to me in duels.”

“Of course you’d remember that.”

There’s a hint of a smile on Jingliu’s lips. A light silence descends between you. It’s strange, being in a confined space with someone who you thought long dead; even stranger conversing with Jingliu after everything that went down with Yingxing and Imbibitor Lunae, with Baiheng, and the Luofu’s growth that she didn’t get to witness. You never thought you’d have a chance to see her again, let alone hear her voice speak back to you. Your fingertips twitch with the desire to hold her close.

“I forgot to ask, earlier,” you say, “about the blindfold.”

“It keeps me from seeing that which pulls me under the influence of the Mara. I have pushed past the limits of my mind a long time ago, but… the reprieve it gives me is welcomed.”

“Your will is admirable. Always was.” You think for a few seconds, then speak up hesitantly, “Will my touch be a trigger?”

Jingliu is slow to respond. You see her lips part to let out a sharp exhale and notice the new tension in her shoulders. You feel selfish for needing a semblance of the intimacy you once shared when her mind is so fractured and fickle. The feeling tightens your throat.

“…It shouldn’t.”

Your emotions threaten to consume you as you stand and wipe your palms on your thighs. You take some steps forward, hesitating when you reach the bed. Her head tilts backward as if staring at you through the cloth over her eyes. With a gentleness that surprises even herself, Jingliu uncrosses her legs and outstretches her hand. Your fingertips touch hers and with a flick of her wrist, slowly lace with hers. She pulls you into her, your knees on each side of her hips and your nose in her shoulder; her freezing hands travel over the expanse of your back and her head dips to breathe in the smell of your hair. You pinch your trembling lips and squeeze your eyes shut to keep the tears at bay, but it’s no use when you can feel the empty sockets that loss has dug inside of you over the years fill up with tenderness. A quiver runs through you. You feel Jingliu’s shaky breath near your ear as she pulls you tighter into her. Your arms wrap around her with as much emotion and warm tears roll down your cheeks over her frigid skin. Her touch makes you whole again, if only for a moment— she is tangible against you and not a fragment of the darkest recesses of your mind. It would seem unreal if you couldn’t feel the softness of her flesh beneath your fingertips.

“How lonely you must have been,” Jingliu mutters into your hair. You know she relates.

“I mourned you,” you manage to say, voice tight. “I’ve accepted that you’re gone. I won’t grieve any more.”

“Good. Then allow me a proper goodbye.”

You cry into her for a long time. Jingliu simply holds you closer with a hand on your back and fingers buried in your hair. You won’t see her again, she will be tried and judged on the Xuling and will go back to being a ghost of your past years. You only hope that this time the memories will be softer, full of her touch as she cleans your cuts; the curve of her mouth when you whisper good morning into her shoulder; the exhilarating sensation of her lips on yours after an exhausting day of wielding the sword. She remains your strength even as your tears dampen her clothes, with the scent of her around you and her breath in your ears, you feel strong enough to let her go. You lost her to the curse of the Abundance once, but she won’t slip through your fingers now. Regret and shame fade away, replaced by this new warm memory of you in each other’s arms. Her unnatural coldness expands your heart instead of constricting it and you let go of the collapsed buildings and acrid sulfur in the air; there’s only Jingliu’s lingering fondness and her calloused palms on your body. In this confinement cell, you say goodbye to a part of you.

[wisp-of-chaos]

💙 With Dror and Minthara :)

Thank you for this lovely opportunity to FINALLY write Minthara! It's been my first time and I absolutely loved it! <3

Also Dror is an idiot but what else it new lol

Minthara's breaths are heavy; her body aches and her blood rushes with adrenaline.

Her eyes wander; take in burning debris and bloody bodies. Pride floods her senses.

It is done. The Emerald Grove has fallen. The non believers are slain. In Her name.

A smile lifts her lips and she raises her mace above her head. “For the Absolute!”, she calls and all around her, a chorus of victory cries joins in.

That evening, they celebrate.

Drums are struck and fires stroked; meat roasted and ale shared. Goblins sing and brawl and party. They're messy and loud about it, and Minthara can't help it but sneer at them.

She and her fellow drow have claimed a spot atop the walls; overseeing the goblins below while partaking in the celebrations in a far more civilized manner.

Instead of stale ale and human flesh, she enjoys a deep, rich red wine along with some crisply roasted, honey doused rothé ribs and sauteed mushrooms.

Primitive, she thinks as she surveys the raunchy hustle. Someone ought to teach them discipline. Manners. How to bow and follow orders and face rightful punishment with dignity.

Minthara's hand twitches and flexes and a small, sharp smile curves her lips. Maybe she could ask General Thorm about getting put in charge of that the next time they meet. Ragzlin was too soft with them; laughing and treating them like unruly children instead of soldiers. She was sure that if she was fully in charge of their goblin forces, she could teach them some proper behavior and would long have been successful with the hunt for the artifact.

Minthara sneers; her smile turning sour.

They had attacked the grove in hopes to find said artifact, but unfortunately it wasn't there. None of the druids or tieflings had carried it. And they had been thorough with their search – checked each corpse twice, then cut them and their livestock apart to be sure they hadn't used some more unconventional hiding places. But still no artifact. Looking through their furniture had proven equally frustrating and fruitless.

Maybe they had hidden it somewhere else, Minthara mused. Maybe in the nearby area. She wouldn't put it past the druids to hide it in a tree or bush or beneath the earth, or even- …

Her thoughts are suddenly disrupted by someone clearing their throat. Looking up and turning her head, her smile falls further.

“G' evnin' ma'am”, Ragzlin says with a heavy slur and unsteady legs. He briefly bows and almost loses his balance; gabbing for the nearby wall to keep himself upright and tickling a snort out of Minthara.

Instead of verbally returning the greeting, Minthara simply raises her glass and gives a curt, stiff nod.

“Fine evnin', isn't it?”, he continues and approaches with swaying steps.

“It's acceptable”, she says and eyes him curiously. Ragzlin doesn't approach her often – not personally, anyway – and usually only when he wants something.

So, what is it he wants now, she wonders, but doesn't have to wait for long, until Ragzlin explains himself rather bluntly.

“Was thinkin' that you an' me should be celebratin' together”, he says; eyes dark and wandering. “Since all this-”, he pauses and makes a grand gesture encompassing their entire camp, “-is because of us. Bunch of filthy goblins? Held together because of you an' me. The slaughter? You an' me. The party? You an' me.”

Minthara raises an eyebrow. “And how would you have us celebrating together?”, she asks and expectantly looks at him, despite full well knowing what his small, predictable mind longs for.

Ragzlin doesn't answer. He simply grins and then leans down.

Minthara smells the cheap beer before she feels his rough lips aimlessly pushing against her cheek, missing her mouth completely.

Minthara laughs and Ragzlin curses, but when he tries to pull away, her hand lurches upward and grabs his hair. Holds him in place.

He sneers and hisses; lips peeling back and exposing sharp, long teeth. Minthara always wondered what they might feel like.

“That was a charming, but poorly executed proposal”, she says with a low, amused chuckle and Ragzlin growls. “Someone ought to teach you how to properly do this.”

She doesn't wait for Ragzlin to understand her words and simply pulls him back in and this time, their lips lock onto one another perfectly.

[malsfefanfics]

FERDIBERT

Angst with a happy ending?

His glass shattered on the floor, but Ferdinand didn't bother to look. He didn't process the wine dampening his pant leg. Nor the wine slowly pouring out of the crack in the now broken bottle rolling away from him. He'd only turned around for a moment. He was supposed to be having a chat with Dorothea before turning in for the night.

He wasn't supposed to be seeing ghosts.

"Hubert?"

The specter nodded. "Hello, Ferdinand. It's... been quite some time."

Ferdinand shook his head, barely managing a laugh. "No. No. This isn't happening. This can't be real." He began to pace, ignoring the crunch of glass under his heel. "I am losing my mind. Yes. I am finally losing all sense of reason."

He glanced at the specter again, trying to justify its existance. The Hubert before him was dressed far more casually than he normally would. Just a plain white shirt with a dark vest and matching trousers. The gloves were the same, pitch black leather he often wore away from the battlefield.

The specter stepped closer. "You are not losing your mind, Ferdinand. I'm here."

Ferdinand stepped back. "No...no, I saw you. You were struck down-"

"Ferdinand-"

"No!" Ferdinand's back hit the wall. "I saw the blood! I had my hands in the wound! You cannot be here! You are a ghost! A figment of my imagination! You aren't real!"

"Please," Hubert said gently, taking Ferdinand's face in his hands. "Ferdinand, look at me."

Ferdinand's eyes widened, his body stiff. The hands on his face were so real. Holding him like a delicate flower. shakily, he reached up, his own hands tracing over Hubert's face, over his cheekbones and slowly down his jaw. Reaching back up to brush that annoying hair covering his right eye.

His attention was drawn to a very faint scar on Hubert's cheek. Easily missed if you didn't know to look for it. Something even the best imposter was sure to overlook. He hated how Hubert received that one. Just looking at it, he could hear the hard smack echoing in his memory.

"Is it....really you, Hubert?"

Hubert nodded. "Yes."

"But....it's been almost two years. You died in my arms!" Ferdinand's eyes filled with tears as he gripped into Hubert's vest in desperation, shaking him. "I buried you, Hubert! I buried you in a coffin I carved and helped carried myself! I watched as you were lowered into the ground! How can you be here?! How? And why...." His lips quivered. Legs shaking as all the strength he had began to wane. "Why did you leave me?"

Hubert pulled Ferdinand into his arms. "I promise, I'll explain everything. Just....please....no more questions right now. Not until you're out of tears."

"Don't....don't talk to me like that....Don't treat me so kindly...." Slowly, his trembling arms let Hubert's vest go, before curling around like snakes in a constricting embrace. "You are an absolute bastard. Coward. Heartless wretch. I'll never forgive you for this. You spineless-"

"I know. I'm not asking for forgiveness. And I swear, I'll answer every question you have. But...please. For now, allow me to be selfish one more time, and just hold you."

As though a spell had broken, Ferdinand's legs finally gave out, and he buried his face in his lover's shoulder, letting out a wail of everything he'd held in since that day.

Hubert held him, pressing a kiss to his head, and making a quiet vow to never leave his side again.

[echidna-enquiries]

Guardian Family Gift Exchange Pt 4.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✺✳ ┅ ⑅ ┅ ✳✺ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

While Chase was struck with laughter, Morgan had finished her second glass of wine and walked to the table, grabbing one of the small boxes and then turned and crouched down next to her nephew. "Thought you could REALLY use these, Chase", Morgan smirked, getting up and sitting back up in her chair. After catching his breath, Chase tore open the box, he looked a bit unsure at what he got. They were wireless earbuds for music, these looked expensive, but he's had some experience with small easily lost earbuds that need to be charged way too much for his liking. "Now before you make any judgements!", Morgan raised a hand, picking up a biscuit from the table, "Try them on and try and shake them out". "Pft-okay, sure Auntie". As he was instructed, Chase got the small earbuds out, they were a bright orange, already a plus in his book, and there was a small cable that split into two in there, could he attach that? Promising. Once he put them into his earholes, he began to shake his head wildly. Almost as if he was Rhett at a metal concert. When he stopped, his hair a mess and trying to hide a laugh, he realised they were still in, tucked tightly Chase couldn't help but give an excited laugh, "Damn. Okay that's cool". "And! They have a super long battery life, the little holder there can give them a booster charge if you plug it in for long enough. And yes, I got them made to that colour AND got that bonus band for you... I know what you're like and I'm making sure you aren't losing these!". The family chuckled as Chase made a face, "Damn you really coming for me, Morgan".

"My turn!", Johnathan cheered as he got up, brushing remaining crumbs from many a snack off his shirt as he got a wrapped box. When he stopped in front of Salem, he mimicked the bow he did before, "For you, sir", he said in a cheesy fancy tone. Salem couldn't help but giggle, "Why thank you, good sir". He took off the wrapping, adding it to the growing pile of wrapping paper that was being scooped up and put into a giant bag in the corner of the room.

"Awwwr...", a wide smile came to his face at the reveal of the present. It was one of those displays of a miniature scene that goes on a bookshelf. This one was fantasy themed and even had a dragon in it, he'd have to build it up later "Oh, this is great. I'm surprised I didn't have one like this yet, didn't even know they had one in this style". "Oh good! I was so worried about buying you a repeat!", Johnathan sighed in relief, "I would've been kicking myself!". "Thank you, grandfather. This will look great next to my fantasy collection", Salem smiled as he received a hug from his short spotty, grandfather.

Realising it was now his turn, Coal looked nervous, "Oh shit, okay uh-". he grabbed a tightly wrapped box and plastic container that was on the food table that had a bow on top and label that said 'DO NOT TOUCH UNTIL OPENED', and looked to Shepherd.

"Two gifts?", Shepherd asked, raising a brow, "The rules were for you to stick to one main gift or multiple small ones, mister". "I know, I know but food doesn't really count as a gift usually and this one is important", Coal handed him the present first, "This is your main gift".

Shepherd promptly opened it, the reveal of the gift leaving a small smile and nod of approval on his face. It was a documentary series surrounding prehistoric creatures. Coal had remembered his smaller interest in dinosaurs and the creatures before their time it seems. "Ahhh. I've been wanting to watch this series. But I didn't want to pay for a whole new streaming subscription for it...".

"God i know right? It's bullshit. It's why i either just buy it physically or just... find other means to watch it", Coal smirked, looking away, everyone knew what he meant. "I'm more surprised you didn't get me anything horror related, but I am still fairly happy with this".

"I mean I could've...but I know damn well enough you probably already got anything that I'd know and anything I don't' know you STILL might have... or it might be total garbage... that you also have". Shepherd fought a chuckle, clearing his throat to cover it up, "A collection is a collection. Now what is this 'not-gift' you have there?".

Coal said nothing but smiled softly putting the box on his lap, Shepherd titled his head at it, he wondered what would make this 'food gift' so special? He opened the box and was hit with a familiar smell, rows of cookies were inside. Coal was not much of a baker so this was already a surprise... but the smell and look of these. They were familiar... it almost took him back to so long ago, when he raising a young Marcello and had his wife, Eleanor to come home too... After picking one up, Shepherd took a bit and he had seemingly froze on the spot. Everyone looked on concerned at his sudden reaction, Marcello even putting a hand on his fathers shoulder, "Dad?". "...Marcello...try one...", is all he said, still looking forward as he slowly chewed the cookie. Confused, but Marcello complied, taking one and eating it... a similar expression came onto his face. "Oh my gosh...", he could feel tears coming up into his eyes, "They're...they're just like mum's...". "They're exactly hers...", Shepherd spoke quietly, already finishing the whole of the first cookie. Coal soflty laughed at the two of them, he could feel his heart warming at the very sight of their happiness, "It took me quite a few attempts, I'm not much of a baker but I wanted to try it... I saw in the book you gave me some time ago, she had a little note that said 'Sheppy's favourite'...". "...Oh god-", Shepherd put the box down and put a hand over his face, his other one following as he hid his face. "Awr no, dont' get like that!", Coal put a hand on his grandfathers shoulder. "I'm doing this so I don't start crying. I don't like crying and I'm too tired to do it!", Shepherd spoke, his voice muffled through his hands. The family around him had a mix of happy but concerned reactions, glad to see their eldest was happy but also hoping he wasn't going to cry... it wasn't a common sight and it was always weird. Shepherd took a breath, composing himself as he looked back up at Coal who remain stood, "Thank you very much, Coal... this was... this was very thoughtful. I appreciate you going out of your comfort zone for this. I'm sure Eleanor would've loved to cook with you if she could've". "Ah jeez, don't get me started...", Coal chuckled softly, wiping his own eyes to make sure no tears came out, "Hope you and Marcello enjoy them". The nervousness that Coal had immediately melted, he was far too worried that his presents wouldn't get the approval he desired. But thankfully that wasn't close to what wound up happening... Especially seeing Marcello and Shepherd quietly getting a handful of the biscuits each and munching them down.

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[ladyantiheroine]

New Year's Eve

Summary: It's New Year's Eve in Fabletown, and as the Fables prepare for the clock to strike twelve, Snow White contemplates her first few months as deputy mayor. Unbeknownst to her, there's a surprise waiting for her at midnight from her handsome coworker. Read on AO3.

Pairing: Bigby Wolf x Snow White

Warnings: Alcohol.

Word Count: 2.6k words

Tags: New year's kiss, no smut.

“Help yourselves, everyone! There’s plenty of champagne to go around!”

Beauty’s voice rang around the room, and all the other guests cheered in response. Snow stood with her champagne glass in her hand. She’d only sipped a little, leaving a small dent in the sparkling drink. She’d mostly spent the evening swirling it around in her tall glass, watching the gold liquid as it started to grow less cold.

It was a tradition in Fabletown every year. Ever since Fables left the Homelands and started adopting more Mundy traditions and holidays, New Year’s Eve had been a favorite for a long time. And Beauty and Beast were always the ones happy to host the occasion in their glamorous Woodlands penthouse. Beauty was dressed to the nines in a long black dress and glittering gold necklace, while Beast at her side was decked out in a new suit and gelled back hair.

Some of the other Fables dressed as nicely for the occasion. A couple of human Fables donned dresses and suits, while the animal Fables went for more casual attire. Snow herself was dressed in her usual business attire. She’d hoped to buy something fancier for the occasion, but being the mayor of Fabletown didn’t afford her much leisure time for shopping.

Snow scanned her eyes around the room. Fables were scattered here and there in groups. Some were on the couch and chairs laughing, some standing by the refreshments tables filling (and refilling) their glasses with sparkling liquid. Upon the chandelier, Snow spotted Bufkin in his black bow tie trying to twist open a wine bottle he must have snatched from the kitchen.

Normally, Snow would have called him out, but right now she was just happy to see all the Fables together and getting along. The past year in Fabletown had been a rough one, after the death of a certain criminal overlord and the biggest murder investigation Fabletown had ever seen. After so much madness and division, it was nice to see everyone mostly getting along.

Well, almost everyone. Except for a few Fable lives that had been cut short, and one still-living absence that lingered in the room…

Before the thought could make Snow’s heart sink, a voice grabbed her attention.

“Never thought of you as a wallflower type, Miss White.”

Snow glanced down at the pig at her feet.

“Colin,” Snow said. “Good evening. Happy New Year.”

“Back at ya,” he said. “Beauty and Beast really went ham on the festivities this year, didn’t they? I don’t think I’ve seen so many Fables in one space without trying to tear each other’s limbs off before.”

Across the room, Beauty let out a high-pitched laugh at something Beast had said. Snow and Colin watched as she slapped her husband’s arm, then he pulled her into a big smooch.

“Those two,” Colin said, then turned back to Snow. “It’s like, get a room, you know?”

“Their relationship has been on an upswing, hasn’t it?” Snow said. “Especially compared to just a year ago.”

“Good for them, I guess. But they don’t need to rub their lovey-dovey shit in everyone’s faces. No doubt the two of them will put on a big show when they kiss at midnight.”

Oh right, that. One of the traditions Mundies had for New Year’s, aside from fireworks, the ball drop, and counting down until midnight, was a kiss when the clock struck twelve. Snow wasn’t sure why. If it was for luck, or just a cute gesture couples did.

“What about you, Miss White, hoping to catch anyone’s face at midnight?”

Snow gave Colin a look.

“Colin, with all due respect—”

“I wasn’t suggesting me!” he said. “Yeesh, don’t be so presumptive, Snow.” He turned on his heels—hooves?—and started towards the bar. “Besides, you're not really my type."

Snow was about to respond, but Colin wandered off before she could. Colin was just messing with her, but his question stuck with her. Despite the many New Year’s celebrations she’d attended in the years since Fabletown formed, Snow had yet to kiss anyone at midnight. It was an idea that only crossed her mind on New Year’s and disappeared the other three-hundred and sixty-four days of the year. Kissing in general was something that didn’t cross her mind too much. Most of the time she had other things to think about. Especially now that she was the deputy mayor of Fabletown and her list of responsibilities had grown ever so long.

Snow sighed and took a long swing of her champagne. Tonight had been her excuse to relax and not think about work. But even during a party, her busy brain kept buzzing with all the tasks waiting on her desk for her as soon as morning arrived. And so far all she’d done at the party was sip some champagne and sit in the corner by herself.

Snow glanced around the room. She’d attended many balls in her princess days in the Homelands, but it had been a while and her more casual social skills had gotten a bit rusty. Now she just wanted to find a bathroom and get some quiet from all the noise at the party.

She started wandering around the apartment. It’d been so long since she visited Beauty and Beast’s home. Where was the bathroom again?

She stumbled through one door that led into the main bedroom. The room was dark with a large bed in the center. On the wall across from the bed was a window that took up the entire wall, revealing a glittering cityscape from above. Snow closed the door behind her, and the sounds of the party were muffled. She wandered over to the window and stared out into the horizon. The darkness and quiet of the room made her feel more at ease. Safely tucked away in the world where she could be alone to work out her thoughts, no distractions, no people demanding her attention. She took a small sip of her glass.

A clicking sound made Snow snap from her reverie, and she jumped as the bedroom door opened and a familiar male voice entered inside.

“Bufkin, you in here?”

Snow turned in time for her eyes to see the sheriff walk through the door, a glass of champagne in one hand. He stopped when his eyes met hers, his hairy hand stopping on the doorknob.

“Snow,” he said.

“Bigby,” she said. “I…wasn’t expecting you to be here.”

“Uh, yeah,” he said. “Beauty and Beast complained that one of their merlots is missing, and they think Bufkin must have taken it. And they think I’d know where he’d be hiding with it.”

Snow recalled the bottle of wine she’d seen Bufkin with minutes before.

“I think I saw him on the chandelier with a bottle in his hands,” she said.

“Well, I didn’t see him anywhere in the living room. Which means he’s probably moved somewhere else. Plus, he’s probably halfway through it at this point.”

Bigby stepped inside and shut the door. The sounds of the party were muffled outside, leaving the two of them alone in the quiet dark of the room. With his free hand, Bigby slid his thumb into his front pocket.

“I see you’re being social,” he said.

“Oh, it’s not that,” Snow said. “I wandered in here and…got a bit distracted by the view.”

Bigby wandered over to her and stood next to her by the window. Snow felt a strange heat in her stomach as he stood so close to her, both their eyes trained on the glittering city view below them. Bigby pulled out a cigarette and lighter from his pocket. Snow normally gave him crap for smoking, but it was New Year’s so she decided to cut him some slack.

“I’m just surprised you showed up at all,” Snow said. “I always figured parties weren’t really your thing.”

“Usually not,” Bigby said. He brought the lighter to the end of his cigarette, emitting a small yellow light in the dark room. The lighter shut with a metallic click and Snow could smell the tarty sweet smell of smoke in the room. Huff n’ Puff. Only Bigby smoked that crap brand, but he smoked it so much that its scent became familiar to Snow even though she’d never smoked a day in her life.

“I wasn’t really planning on showing up,” he continued. “But I could hear the party all the way from my apartment. So I figured if the party was going to keep me up, I might as well come by and get a drink before it was over.”

“Well…I’m glad you’re here,” Snow said softly. She felt a strange pink in her cheeks. “It’s not often Fables get together to celebrate something. Except for Remembrance Day.”

Bigby took a long drag from his cigarette. A small ember on the end created a gold dot of light in the dark room. He let out a long stream of smoke from his mouth. Even in the dim light, Snow could see the ghostly wisps pass between his lips.

“And what about you?” he said. “I wouldn’t expect the mayor herself to be hiding during a party.”

“I’m not hiding,” Snow said. “I just…was looking for a bathroom.”

Even in the dark, Snow could feel Bigby’s eyes on her. She forgot the sheriff was very good at telling whether people were lying.

“I guess I just needed to be alone for a bit,” she admitted.

Bigby shrugged and took a drag from his cigarette.

“I don’t blame you,” he said. “First year as mayor, you’ve been swamped for a while.”

Snow nodded. Bigby had borne witness to Snow’s adjustment to her new position. Becoming the new deputy mayor during an intense investigation was challenging enough, but inheriting the job after discovering her predecessor was…

Snow shivered at the memory of Ichabod Crane, the pictures of him with Lily in her glamour, the thought of what he was doing when he wasn’t in the office with her. It was enough to make her feel sick.

Bigby noticed her visible reaction, and gently set a hand on her shoulder. Snow’s skin flared under his touch but she did not push him away.

“You’ve done a really good job, Snow,” he said. “And I’m not just saying that because you're my boss now.”

Snow felt a smile creep into her lips. Comforting people was not Bigby’s strongest suit, but she could tell with his gentle voice and gentler touch that he was trying for her sake, and for that she was grateful.

“You think so?” she said.

Bigby nodded. He removed his hand from her shoulder, leaving a cold spot behind.

“I do,” he said. “A lot of shit has happened since the investigation. You’ve managed to pick it all up and keep things stable. You’ve adapted a lot quicker to this job than I think anyone else could have.” He took another drag of his cigarette and set his glass down on a nearby table. His voice lowered, his tone shifting to a confessional-like quality. “It’s what I’ve always admired about you, Snow. No matter how much shit hits the fan, you keep it all together.”

Snow wasn’t sure if she really kept it all together. Fabletown had certainly made improvements. She was already in the process of trying to develop a new system of manufacturing and distributing glamours so more animal Fables could leave the Farm. But still, Fabletown had a long way to go.

Regardless, Bigby’s kind words made her smile.

“Thank you,” she said. She held her glass in both hands. “And of course, I don’t know how I’d even have the stability to do all this without your support.”

Bigby shrugged, but Snow could sense a trace of a smile on his face. In the dim light of the room, she could barely make out his face. Snow always knew Bigby was an attractive man. She’d known since that first day she saw him in his human form. But he was exceptionally handsome in the pale, boozy light.

“You don’t need me, Snow,” Bigby said. There was a chuckle in his voice, but Snow could sense something sadder in his tone. She knew his job wasn’t easy. It was a thankless one. A lot of violence. A lot of Fables who both feared and loathed him. Snow’s job was difficult, and she wasn’t exactly loved either, but at least she was safe in her office. Bigby on the other hand had to see the bloody corruption every day on the streets, and she knew it weighed on him. Even after all the years they worked together, Bigby still didn’t seem to realize how invaluable he was.

Snow leaned closer to him.

“I disagree,” she said. “Everyone here needs you. Even if they won’t say it out loud.”

Bigby gave her a soft look, but before either of them could speak, Beauty’s voice rang from the other room.

“Gather around, everyone! The countdown is about to begin!”

Snow could hear everyone else gathering in the living room, but she felt no compunction to join them. And neither did Bigby as he turned his gaze back out the window over the city. The moonlight glazed down his silhouette, making him almost appear to glow. Snow felt a strange warmth riding inside her. It was just the two of them, alone in the dark. Colin’s question from before crawled back into her head, and something deep in her chest was yelling for her to do it, do it now!

In the other room, everyone began to count.

“Ten!…nine!…eight!…seven!…”

Snow felt her whole face flush and her heart pound in her ears. This was her one chance, her only one, or else wait another three-hundred and sixty-five days for the chance it may happen again. Something she didn’t realize had been dormant in her for a long time suddenly awakened and started clawing its way out.

“Six!…five!…four!..”

Snow took a step closer to Bigby, and she could feel her face hovering closer to his. His smoke-sweetened breath and whiskery lips were much closer…

“Three!…two!…ONE!”

Before Snow could move closer, Bigby turned his head towards hers, took her face in his hands, and pulled her lips to his.

The kiss was so sudden it made Snow’s heart lurch. For a moment time seemed to freeze until it came pouring back, and she could feel Bigby’s whiskery stubble on her lips and her chest was right against his. His scent—the cigarettes, the liquor, the woods—filled her nose.

Snow’s eyes fluttered shut as she sunk into the kiss. He cradled her face gently in his hands. Just outside the window, she could hear the crackling pop of fireworks in the sky. She could feel the sparkling colors across her face. Her own heart seemed to fizzle and sparkle in her chest.

In the living room, the other Fables cheered and hollered with jubilee. Champagne glasses clinked and voices chirped with laughter. But all the noises turned to white noise in Snow’s ears.

When their lips parted, neither of them spoke a word. Snow felt warm all over and she could hardly bring herself to move as if the moment were made of glass and anything could break it. Bigby was barely visible in the dim light but she could sense he was shaking.

Even in the dark, Snow could detect a trace of pink rushing into the sheriff’s face. It was a strange thing to see in Bigby, who was usually so aloof and cold. Even the Big Bad Wolf could not help but fluster at what he’d done.

The two of them looked at each other, and something passed between them that neither of them could perfectly identify. A sort of secret, an inside joke, an understanding. Snow saw a smirk creep into Bigby’s face. He picked up his glass off the table and raised it to her.

“Happy New Year, Snow,” he said.

And just like that, a grin crept into her face too.

“You too, Bigby.”

[daughter-of-inklings]

word count: 1,086 excerpt: Lost Princess || Ch. 8 - Of Thorns & Roses

“How dare you…” her voice trembled, breaking under the weight of her anger. “How dare ALL  OF YOU-” she snapped at those behind her, a snarl clawing its way from her throat, forcing the crowd back in mixed terror and revelry, “-how dare you- all of you! Gather here celebrating- celebrating the day you burned my kingdom to the ground!” She rounded on them, fangs bared, measuring every step forward against her waning self-control, “After everything my father and my kind did for you- for your gods! For gods we owe nothing to but the first breath of life- you have the gall to come here, drinking and toasting to our deathbeds?”  

“All because-” she turned, bounding up the stairs in a single flap of her wings, “-of you.” The guards stumbled to draw their weapons to her throat, flanking their empress. They tried to gain ground, pushing forward until the points of their spears dug into the sides of Elanoriel’s dress. But she refused, stalking forward until she could nearly touch the empress. “All because of our darling little Jules.” 

“Because of-” Julienna scoffed, leveling herself to meet the young girl’s gaze. She bit the inside of her cheek to restrain herself, hard enough to taste blood. “What do you know of sacrifice, elfling?” she hissed to the space between them, “What do you know about the cruelties of the world outside your gilded manor? What do you know of how the world works outside of your blind faith in long dead kings?” That struck a nerve, and the girl’s eyes flared. “Who in the nine hell’s do you think you are, princess, to come into my kingdom- to MY throne- flinging accusations around of something you know nothing about?”

“My name,” Elanoriel glared, turning towards the crowd with outstretched arms, wings mirroring the movement at either side of her, delighted at the way they ate up this performance, “Is Elanoriel Cottontail Helvyn-Falamir, King Thalion’s first-born daughter, and the rightful heir to the Yggdrasilian throne.” 

Gasps ripple through her audience, the echoes of shattered wine glasses ringing out over them as they slipped from nobles’ hands. Elanoriel let the moment hang in the air, allowing them the sight of her wings for a moment longer. They towered over her, each easily a few yards across from the shoulder blade to the tip of the outermost feather, white as snow with black fringes and spots like spilled ink in no particular pattern. 

“I am the daughter of a forgotten king. He now lies on a slab of dirt and stone, without a crown and without our home, because he believed in you-” she snapped back to glare at Julienna in one solid, fluid movement, “- because he made the mistake to believe in all of you. That you would come to our aid when we needed it most as we’d done for you– more times than he lived years!” Her voice rose, almost breaking, “That you would protect his people and keep his children safe, like you promised him that night-”

“I kept my promise–”

“LIAR!” Elanoriel’s snarl drowned out her voice, her wings snapping in one sharp push to launch her into the air above them, above the throne and towering over Julienna and her knights. 

“I SAVED you!” The empress’s voice trembled, a slow rage sinking into her words, her composure beginning to crumble as she took a step down to meet Elanoriel’s gaze. “You have no idea what I’ve done to keep you and your brother safe inside that castle, hatchling. You’ve no idea of how cruel the world is outside of your little manor, how quickly and easily it guts hope and kills it inside you until all you’re left with is anger–” 

“You left me to DIE!” Silver drops began to fall from Elanoriel’s closed fists to the floor, the marble giving way to brilliant sunstar flowers. “I was six years old! I didn’t need saving! I needed to feel safe, and loved, and to be with my father! And you– you-” 

“And did you not have it all?” Julienna went down another step, close enough to touch the avariel now. “Were you not safe? Loved?” she hissed, “By parents who put you before all the worlds? Who stopped at nothing when it came to you and their others? What else had I to give you in this life when you’d had all and myself, salen lyth?”

“You took my home,” Elanoriel’s eyes flashed, magick broiling within them. “And when that wasn’t enough to satisfy you, you took my people and my family- my life. You plucked their feathers off, one by one– from every person, every child, who couldn’t escape the wrath of your sword!”

Julienna opened her mouth, cut off by a sudden screech that rang out throughout the room. The guards at either side of her raised their weapons, too late to stop the horned owl that flew overhead onto Elanoriel’s outstretched hand. It gave another screech, there dropping Julienna’s crown- a piece with four stars suspended to float about their own columns, each centered with a different colored jewel- before landing atop Elanoriel’s horns. She moved from Julienna’s reach, a breadth away from her fingertips, just as the guards moved between them. They raised their weapons, spears pointed to pierce her through, and yet she refused to move. Rather, she wrapped her fingers around the crown, slowly pulling at the metal from either side. 

“You hunted, and you cut and plucked until you had enough to stuff your mattress and your pillow and your dogs, resting here and feasting while others were massacred in your name!” 

The scrape of strained metal filled the pauses of her silence, hairline fractures cracking into the stones as the crown struggled to cave.

“They wanted you dead, Elanoriel— you and your brother! The noblemen and the people you’re quick to defend and martyr for wanted you both dead. You were a curse to them, a plague sent by the gods they denounced to bring ruin to their kingdom!” Julienna’s voice trembled, rising above the tumult of noise thrumming through the crowd below them, stroked and flamed every passing moment by the beat of Elanoriel’s wings. “They didn’t want you! They made your life a misery to their enjoyment, because hurting a child who couldn’t fight back was the only power those cowards held. I gave you new life—" “You shot me and left me to burn or die on that castle floor!”

[colleenmurphy]

It all started on a very normal evening out for drinks and dinner with her newest beau, a really sweet cop from Chicago that had dreamy blue eyes and a voice that could melt her brain into her shoes.

"So here I am half way down seventh and park just on my beat when I pull up and see this little girl, pigtails in ribbons, backpack too big for her pink sneakers the works. Then it dawns on me that it's the little girl that went missing four hours ago and her parents are frantic..."

Colleen was hanging onto his every word as he sipped his tequila and water and she occasionally drank her white wine. Then she smelled it...or them, rather. A noxious blend of cloying night jasmine and sickly honey mingled with mugwort and cedar capped off by bitter ivy and icy birch. To her it was gag inducing but it soon passed.

"I pull up along side her and ask her if she's lost 'cause she was walking all determined. Kinda like you.."

Biting his lip she resisted the urge to jump him right then and there. It had been many moons since Colleen had felt this spirit in this form. She felt a blush rise high in her cheeks as she drank deeply. Her time in Endor she'd felt it strongly only to be left well into the 1700s until he popped up again. But she digressed and turned her attention again from the annoying smell and back to Bill.

"She answered me with a tiny timid yes and she had these huge green eyes that just struck me and that's what pulled me into the search. I was well out of my way and technically on a different beat entirely. But I'd found her. I introduced myself and let her wear my hat and play with the buttons a little. But I really won her over when I hand delivered her to her mom on their front porch. Made me proud of myself that day. All the shit I did in my life, over there...that was a life away from what I did to get where I am now. I helped someone. I knew I was in the right line of work."

She smiled and again her ancient heart melted. Taking his hand in hers she traced his lifeline. Good and strong mount of Venus. Unbroken.

"You're awfully affection this evening, Col."

She smiled again before leaning over to kiss his cheek.

"It's Friday, I got paid and I'm with one of my all time favorite people."

"Ya mean besides Helene?"

A throaty laugh left him as he shook out a cigarette, something Colleen didn't quite approve of but couldn't fault him on since she herself had her own hand rolled cigarettes of a different variety in her purse. She'd already lit up I the ladies room to get her nerve up to even consider asking him about taking the next step she felt was right in their relationship.

"Yes. What was what drink you were trying to get me to try?"

"Oh it was a margarita...little different than what you're used to, babe. Aren't you Miss Colly Safety usually? You sure you want to mix your wine with liquor?"

Yes, he knew her very well, almost too well. But now was her turn to surprise him.

"I'm feeling a bit wild this evening. We don't have to be up early and we're booked for the Keys tomorrow evening. Helene's going to lose her mind when she sees the rental."

He stopped playing with the raven and triple moon charm on her bracelet.

"What if I told you it wasn't a rental?"

Their waitress came back over in a cloud of spun sugar sweetness of maraschino cherries and presumably spilled cheap vodka and Jasmine.

"Anything else for you two tonight? Dave in the back he can whip up somethin' quick if you've got a drive ahead of you."

"I'll have that margarita thingy..."

"Colleen you've never said 'thingy' in your life...are you sure?"

"Yes, I've had one glass of wine and it was paired with the usual crab cake and salad."

She was logical and practical but Bill had to admit that he was surprised.

"Ok, get your pen out Tammy...a double shot of silver tequila, a shot chambourd and Gran Mariner shaken over ice and garnished with the salt sugar rim and a lime."

A slow blink and a pop of her gum gave it away that Tammy was a touch impressed and jealous of Colleen and her taste in male company. As she walked away Colleen smelled it again. This time her stomach gave a lurch.

"I'll be right back."

"Ok, but the drinks are almost here."

Dashing off as fast as her feet could carry her towards the ladies room she bolted the door and made a fumble for her Tiger's Eye.

'Helene...do you feel it? Is it what I think it is?'

Colleen had been around for a very long time and she had grown to feel that nothing could frighten her these days. Until she felt the twinge of being hunted by whatever...no, whoever was giving off that god awful stench. A twinge of brimstone mingled now until it wafted away as quickly as it had come over. She stood there clutching her Tiger's Eye and shaking out a joint in there other. Slipping it onto her necklace chain she sighed and inhaled. Giving herself a good three minutes before breathing deeply and spraying herself down lightly with whatever was in her purse. Some aquatic and airy. Perfect. Walking back out she met his eyes and he shook head slightly as he chuckled.

"Did I miss something?"

"The other waitresses think there's a skunk out back, Col."

Biting her lip to stifle an equally embarrassed and amused snicker she blushed.

"Whoops..."

"Sorry about the wait...damn skunk must be back out there again by the dumpsters. Here's your drinks and your bill. Ya'll have a wonderful night."

"Cheers, Colly baby."

"Slainte, Liam."

A clink of glasses and a few sips and Colleen was feeling positively giddy. She had sipped from the fountain of youth for the sheer fun of it ( it's slightly carbonated and a tad salty with a tinge of Mangosteen if you really want to know ) and she had the privilege of partying in wine from many courts of many kings and nothing compared to the ambrosia that had graced her palate.

"Holy shit you've never made that sound before."

Opening her eyes she gave him a worried look that shifted to a flush of self awareness and the alcohol hitting her stomach. Liquid courage was starting to hit and she touched her necklace once more.

"Maybe you will...later."

She watched his eyes widen and a wolfish glimmer take hold. If the floor could have opened up she would have thrown herself in head first as she blew him a kiss.

"I said that aloud...hollyhocks and sunflower stalks.."

Cradling her head in her hands for a second she ended up laughing at herself. For the first time in ages. With him.

"You are literally the only person that talks in flowers when they're embarrassed and I love it."

"Only when truly and deeply embarrassed. But, at least I've got a nice little in onto the next subject."

Fiddling with her straw she sipped again. This time she was surprised to find a splash of grapefruit soda hitting her tongue. It was pleasant mind setter.

"I know your feelings on marriage after your divorce with Katherine and you know how my last relationship ended with Jeremy. But what about..

Her mother's voice rang out in her head.

'Every time you look at him you get lost in his eyes. I see what was, what could be and what will be. Just ask him.'

A flurry of activity hit as door the tavern opened in a whirl wind of rain and leaves. Helene's curls sprang out as she came in searching the place.

"Hey!"

Politely walking passed a few other couple she made her way over to their booth by the fish tank.

"I hate to break this up but...I've got bad news and good news. I'm an agent of change right now. Don't know what's got my tongue but this cat showed up and now I can't shut up. I'm too honest. Oooh..tequila!"

Taking a sip she pulled a face.

"Oohh. somebody's gonna feel that in the morning."

Bill chuckled as he finished his and took Colleen's hand.

"Oh, She's been dancing with the devil's lettuce, eh? Ok, here's my shot because she won't be blunt with you. You love her and she loves you. You know her knitty gritty past when it comes to love and you know she's into kinky shit. She's wild for and about you and you her. Colleen's at that age in a witch's life where babies are on the brain. Big time. She sees you she wants babies. Specifically your babies, k? We all know how you both are about walking the aisle again and I really don't know if she can..technically. But...yes, she wants to settle down and have a home with you. Buutt...here's where it turns like mega shit bad. We're being hunted. Someone's out there looking for Col and I and we need to skedaddle on out of here before they find us. I've got Mama Murphy on the case and Pops on it. How fast can you drive or should we let Col do it?"

"The smell!"

Bill to his credit was sitting there stone silent taking it in.

"Yep. So yes, let's get paid here and get to getting 'cause whatever it is is Big Mad and Big Bad. "

Helene wandered of towards the bar to ask about a to go cup of whatever that was that she just drank.

"This is the part where you run screaming for the hills, right?"

Tears had welled up in her eyes, partially from having her bubble burst in a big way. She and everyone that she loved and cared about were being hunted by something so god awful she couldn't put a face to the smell. But it was locked away so deep that could only mean something horrible.

"No...this is where I get you and your best friend, our best of honor, to our new home a bit sooner than expected. Which is good. We'll have time to talk about turning a third guest bedroom into a nursery...or something."

She smiled as she kissed him.

"Hey lovebirds! Let's get a move on, please! Paradise awaits us!"

[disillusioned-phantasma]

Queued in on his raspy squeals of delight. There was no surprise when you stepped into the hallway to see him carting in his box of wine, “Wow, that’s almost a week sooner than last time.”

Smug grin, Chuuya gently set his box of bottles on the dining room table, “They knew I had to deal with that shit for brains today. Karama really pays off for putting up with Dazai.”

Peaking over the edge of the box as Chuuya broke into it like a kid on Christmas. He had everything scattered on the table and matched with the tasting cards before you even had a chance to get a drink of water and sit to join him. 

“Wow they went all out this time.” You were impressed at the seven very distinctly different bottles of wine in front of you.

“A Riesling…A zinfandel, even a syrah this month!” Chuuya was outright glowing when he read each label, “Oh boy we have to do something for dinner this week to pair with that syrah!!!”

Smiling at your husband’s excitement. You leaned your elbow against the table and watched as he read off their names and where they were from. All while clutching each one to his chest like it was the most precious thing he had. Until finally Chuuya turned and looked at you thrilled.

“What were we doing for dinner tonight again?? I bet there’s a wine in here that would compliment it so well!”

Snickering at him you relayed to him what had been talked about and what was already half prepped for the meal. No turning back for dinner was set in stone. Chuuya ramped up his excitement as he scoured the cards. Going over types and tastes. Each one turning up a sour note in his mouth to be paired with a meal. Until the last one was a winner. 

“See I knew today would be a good day!” Chuuya, with the neck of the wine bottle in hand, slung his free arm around your waist to yank you into a big kiss on the cheek, “Dazai can suck it- I get to have a nice wine with a lovely woman.”

“And he can go die in a ditch somewhere?” You raised the question with a brimming smile on your face as you turned and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

Chuuya leaned his weight into you and stole nothing short of a movie star kiss from you. Broken only by the grin tugging on his lips when he looked at you hardly an inch from your face, “You got that right baby.”

Taking longer than expected. Not to anyone’s displeasure. Chuuya was happy to say the extra time only meant his wine would be more crisp and refreshing when the two of you tried it. 

So when dinner was made. Sat at the table when he insisted on it. And your dish made up and placed in front of you just like his sat waiting for him. It was when Chuuya came over with the bottle and his personally engraved opener that he coveted more than anything.

“Fruity notes, crispy texture and to pair wonderfully with our meal.” Chuuya remarked.

“You just read that off the card they sent.” You retorted. Leaning against the table on your elbow with a silly love struck look on your face. Hand tucked away in your pocket as your husband didn’t let that sour his showmanship.

“But it was my delivery that sold it.” He waggled his finger at you.

Popping the cork out. Inhaling the wonderful aroma. Chuuya had nothing but positives to say about the wine he hadn’t tasted yet. Offering you a sniff too which you admitted much like the other months past. It was a delightful smell.

Pouring your glass to the perfect mark. Followed by his own. Chuuya took his seat and raised his glass to you for a toast, “To karma landing me with the most beautiful woman in the world to drink with.”

Grinning you clinked your glass against his. Slower than Chuuya was to take a sip. You held it to your lips when he was already taking a swallow, “And, here’s to karma giving you everything you can handle.”

Lip of the glass lowered. His red brows arched up and Chuuya looked across at you, “That’s a weird toast are you sure you haven’t already had a glass of wine today?” Shaking your head. You lower the glass from your lips. Chuuya noticing you didn’t even taste it, “Hey it’s really good you should-”

All but cut off. And for good reason.

What you pulled from your pocket was identifiable even to the dumbest fool at the king’s court. Even though Chuuya had swallowed his wine. The spit that caught in his throat made him choke and he quickly covered his mouth as to not cough all over the food.

“Wait are you-”

Confirmed with a nod. He didn’t even give the open bottle or open glasses a second thought. Chuuya threw himself across the table to grab you in a hug.

“I’m gonna be a dad!” He choked this time on the tears threatening his menacing expression. Laughing right through the trickle of tears down his cheek. Chuuya hadn’t even realized he knocked over the glass of wine when he had your face in his hands. “You little sneak. When did you-”

“This morning.” You hardly made it out without tears gurgling in your throat. Smiling like a fool as you leaned into him to kiss him, “I found out this morning but suspected this month was the month.”

Utterly beside himself Chuuya couldn’t quit kissing you. Until finally he wrapped you up in a hug and just utterly wiggled with excitement, “This is so much better than the wine box-”

“You mean the wine you spilled on the ground-”

“Oh shit!” 

Scrambling to tap out the fizzy bubbles of the tipped over bottle. Chuuya was throwing your napkins on it in a fit all while you laughed.

“Well, look at it this way.” Chuuya looked up at you amidst his cleaning just to see you with the most angelic glow he swore he’d ever seen on you, “That won’t be the first or last spill to hit this floor. But, maybe the most expensive spill.”

With wine soaked towel in hand. Chuuya leaned over to you and stole a kiss even with the pungent smell of grapes filling your dining room, “I welcome every spill. Because they’ll all be priceless in comparison.”

a/n: this is crack dedicated to my lovely wife @hq-girl-next-door​ and her 2d husband that shares the same clothes bc they’re both short as hell ♡  word count: 1.2k character(s): Chuuya Nakahara tag(s): fem!Reader, unedited, fluff, suggestive themes, language, established relationship, a surprise ♡ synopsis: Chuuya loves his monthly wine subscription. And he loves it even more when it’s shared with his favorite person.

“It’s here! Even sooner than last month!” 

Nothing sung sweeter from your husband’s lips than when he saw that tell tale box in front of the door. That monthly box with it’s elegant label grape flavored label. Sporting his second favorite thing only out done by you.

Chuuya’s monthly wine box.

Little less expensive than his stich fix type of obsession from previous years. At least the bottles of wine sent monthly didn’t pile up like the unworn clothes and reject hats from his last escapade in internet subscriptions.

Keep reading

[randynova]

♡𝓜𝔂 𝓦𝓸𝓶𝓪𝓷♡

𝓖𝓾𝓷 𝔁 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: 𝐴𝑙𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑛 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒, 𝐺𝑢𝑛 𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑐𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑎𝑙 𝑡𝑜 𝐺𝑜𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑖𝑓 𝑖𝑡 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑠 ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑜𝑛 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒.

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔(𝑠):𝐹𝑒𝑚!𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟, 𝐹𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓, 𝑠𝑜𝑓𝑡(𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑝)! 𝐺𝑢𝑛

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

“Why couldn’t this have waited until another day?” Gun muttered, unbuttoning his shirt, letting it slide off his taut frame, and neatly folding it, placing it onto the roof of his car. He was glad he hadn't put his jacket on, having left it in his passenger seat. “I can’t dirty my clothes again, [Name] will be mad if I get blood on it.” He rolled his broad shoulders until they released a satisfying crack, his thick muscles bulging as he stretched his arms across his scarred chest. Gun peered at a nearby store, the digital clock displaying in big white numbers, ‘7:45 PM’. He groaned, his lips curling into a scowl whilst his arms fell to his side. He didn’t have enough time to deal with this.

“Hmm, and it’s almost time for our date. Fuck.” Gun whispered to himself. He clenched his fists, narrowing his eyes at the man across from him. He removed his shades and revealed his dark gaze, placing his favorite accessory to his side as well. “I’ll make this quick, Goo. I have more important places to be.”

Goo laughed, grinning in his spot as he balanced a pole in his hands. He rolled his eyes, arching a brow at his partner. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, Gun, maybe if you didn’t spend all your time by [Name]’s side, we could have dealt with this matter much earlier. That girl has you wrapped around her pretty little finger, huh?”

“Shut it,” Gun said, already racing towards the blonde and thrusting his fist, knuckles colliding with metal. Upon the cold sensation meeting his skin, he wanted to absolutely kill Goo and rip him to shreds. This would take longer than he wanted, wasting his already precious, short time. He backed off, having a considerable distance between the two, stretching his fingers a few times before clenching them again. He growled, spitting venomously,  “You just like picking fights.” 

“You did too. Before you met her, y’know,” Goo tutted, waving his finger in the air. He scoffed, voice low, “Who would’ve thought? Gun going soft for a girl. Psh, pathetic. Never thought I’d live to see the day...” The blonde trailed off, his face becoming stoic, his mind wandering. You truly had to be someone exceptional if you managed to have a guy like Gun to fall for you. He always wondered who you were, how you looked like, what you did, but Gun had kept you a secret from the world of crime. He hid almost every known trace abou you and tied every loose end that implicated you existed. No one knew who you were and no one could find you — unless Gun allowed them to. 

Goo found it so irritating how he was unable to know the girl who made such a notorious gangster go soft. 

He only met you once and that was by pure sheer luck; dropping by unexpectedly at one of Gun's apartments, only to be met with the sight of you. Seeing how Gun reacted, he knew you were supposed to be kept hush-hush. But boy, did he have a field day the next time he saw the man.

Goo had to meet you again. Or at least, know you more.

Only when Gun’s fist connected with Goo’s face did the man snap out of his thoughts, the impact of such force throwing him a few feet backwards. He dug his feet into the floor, a high-pitched screech coming from his shoes as the rubber burned against the pavement. With his sleeve, Goo wiped his cheek, seeing a speck of blood staining his clothes. Goo chuckled, standing up straight with a grin, “If I can remember right, you told me you got Eli Jang in trouble for basically the same thing. What was her name again? Heather?”

Goo blocked the upcoming attack, his pole raised and crossed above his face. He pushed Gun back with an effortless swing of the pole. He tilted his head and scratched the back of his head with his free hand. “How is [Name] any different from Heather? What does she have on you?”

Gun twisted his neck gently until he heard a crack, looking back at Goo as he hissed with venom, “Nothing.”

“Let me think, let me think….” Goo hummed, racking his mind for any possibility that someone like Gun would stay with a woman longer than one night. His face lit up and he broke out into a wide grin, pointing a finger at Gun. “Aha! You got the poor girl knocked up, right?! See, I always tell you to wear protection! Just couldn’t keep it in your pants, hm? Shaaame.” 

“Ugh, fuck no. I don’t want kids and neither does she. We made that clear at the beginning," Gun said with a sneer, annoyed beyond comprehension at Goo's antics. 

“Awe, I really thought she held something over you. How about this: I’ll stop fighting you if you tell me why you’re still with such a pretty girl like [Name]? Deal?" Goo offered, slinging the pole onto his shoulder. His eyes darkened as he spat maliciously, knowing each word would wind and rile Gun's emotions. "She deserves better than a perverted gangster, you both know that.”

Gun stayed silent, the corners of his lips tugging down into a frown. Goo’s last words struck a chord in him, sending a pang through his heart upon hearing an insecurity he’ll never admit to. Of course. Everyone told you to stay away from a man like Gun. People kept telling you you will only get hurt in the end, that a better man will come along and sweep you off your feet if you just waited, or you could always do better than him. But you never listened. You stayed by his side, even when the whole world looked down on you two. Even for months, he tried convincing himself he felt nothing for you, but after a while, he finally accepted that someone managed to tear down his walls and enter his hollow, cold heart — you. 

You were just a different kind of girl - no- a different kind of woman. A special woman he had the pleasure of meeting. One he wouldn’t dare let go of now that he has the privilege of calling you ‘mine’. And by any god out there, he won’t be a stupid fool to lose you.

Gun sighed. “I tell you and you’ll put this stupid fight behind us, right?”

Goo placed a hand over his chest, replying shortly, “You have my word.~”

“[Name] is just that special person you meet once in your life. One you know you can’t let go of because there isn’t another like her. Simple as that.”

“What?! Ugh, don’t be boring! Tell me more!”

“You asked why I  stayed with her and I told you.”

“Yeah, but I expected a story, not some sad attempt at an old man’s wise words.”

A low guttural sound rumbled in Gun’s throat, his eye twitching. “Maybe when I’m in a better mood I’ll tell you, but if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with my woman.”

Goo groaned and tossed his pole to the side, rolling his eyes and grumbling, "Fiiine, but you owe me a story. "

"Whatever—damnit," Gun looked at the clock once again and his face contorted into one of pure irate. "I'm late."

'8:12 PM'

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

Your head rested on your hand, balancing a glass of wine between your fingers, twirling the cup as the liquid swished around. Your eyes were looking down on the glory of Gangdong, the shimmering, blinding lights of the city mesmerizing you. The city always looked beautiful at this time of night. You just wished you could enjoy it with the person you cherished. A sigh leaves your lips and you look away, eyes trailing to the other tables over the balcony. 

The lingering eyes of many strange men didn't faze you anymore, the two burly boys surrounding your table always making them avert their gaze as fast as it landed. A courtesy of your boyfriend, who was at least thirteen minutes late, who insisted on you needing to be guarded at all times. You knew if he were here, no one would dare to even breathe in your direction, let alone glance. 

The cool air pricked your skin and a shiver passed through your body, reminding you of where you were. For a man as smart as him, Gun tended to neglect keeping the season in mind when planning your dates. Nonetheless, you were happy he went out of his way to take you out on such a busy schedule. 

You jumped in your seat, snapping out of your thoughts. A jacket was wrapped around your frame, warmth immediately enveloping you as the fabric made contact with your bare skin. You looked up and smiled. 

Gun stood behind you, towering over your sitting form as he made sure you were nice and covered. His coat basically swallowed you whole. A small stuffed animal was tucked under his arm, it’s fluffy fur peeking out. He walked over to take his seat, pulling the chair out, and wasting no time to slip in. He waved to the guards and they nodded, beginning to clear the scene of people.

“Sorry I’m late, [Name],” Gun started, taking the stuffie out from underneath his arm and presenting it to you. Oh, how adorable. "I brought you a gift as an apology."

A small brown otter sat in his palms, barely taking up Gun's hands. It’s beady, plastic eyes looked straight at you, a little smile stitched onto its snout. A snort left you. The sight of such a well-dressed, intimidating man carrying such an adorable toy was  amusing. "Really now? Just a cute toy, Gun?"

Gun sighed and sat up a bit from his chair, leaning over the table, and cupping your face as he planted a gentle kiss on your cheek. As quick as it started, Gun's lips left and he was seated once again. You pout. "Don't give me that look, [Name]. We can do more at home if you want but not here."

"It's not wrong to be disappointed in no kiss on the mouth after not seeing your boyfriend for such a long time. Don't you think I deserve it?"

Gun smirked, placing his shades on the table and taking your hand, intertwining your fingers together. He gave a light squeeze and you didn't miss a beat as you squeezed his coarse hand back. The way you pursed your lips and looked at him with such glossy, innocent eyes made his heart swell. With such a pretty, cute face, it was hard to say no to you. "Hmm, maybe. But Olly told me you crossed paths with Hostel A." Gun spoke, slipping his hands from yours and picking up his dinnerware, quickly cutting the savory meat into pieces. He didn't hesitate to put a piece up to your mouth, a hand underneath so as to not have the juice leak. "I was told you nearly broke the Uncles' bones and Big Daddy himself."

Your face scrunched up and you scoffed, shaking your head. You placed the stuffed animal to the side, petting it. "Figured those assholes wouldn’t tell you everything. The ‘uncles’ wouldn’t leave me alone and I thought Olly was another one of those bastards,” you snap, sitting back in your seat with a scowl. “How was I supposed to know he was trying to help when he dresses like that? I thought he was trying to assault me for God’s sake!”

Gun placed down his fork on his plate and his face twisted into one of fury, eyes turning cold and rigid as all the warmth disappeared whilst his lips curled back into a nasty frown. You almost thought his infamous scowl was directed towards you, but you knew better. You dear boyfriend wouldn't dare lay a single finger on you if it didn't bring you pleasure. "They what?" 

You smiled softly, placing your hand over his as it clenched into a fist. With your small attempt at trying to soothe him by rubbing small circles, you spoke with a bit of hesitation, "Ah, yeah. They kept trying to get my number and wouldn't let me leave the booth I was in. I had no other choice than to use the training you taught me. Since I never met Olly, I really thought he was just another one of them and I reacted before thinking, making me attack him too."

Gun scoffed, shaking his head as he listened to your explanation with disbelief, every word fueling his rage of someone daring to hit on his woman. Every fiber in Gun's body screamed, wanting to feel their skin underneath his fists as he pounded them into oblivion. But the only thing stopping him was his date with you. For now, he'll put his anger aside to be with you and keep you happy. Who knows how long he'll be gone and when he'll see you again. The man has to make every second count. 

Yet, he couldn’t let this go unpunished.

"Fuck." Gun leans closer to you and sits on the edge of his chair. Placing his hand over yours, he slips his fingers to grasp your palm, and lifts your hand to his lips, pressing tender kisses against your knuckles. His thumb grazing softly across your fingers and his eyes flutter shut. You couldn't help but stare in awe, never quite seeing him like this.

So careful with you, so gentle, you were surprised he wasn't seething in his seat and threatening to break their heads open. Gun opens his eyes and looks up at you, shaking in his seat. “I promise I’ll have those fuckers begging on their knees for your forgiveness. They should know better than to treat a woman with such rudeness and disrespect. Shit, I’ll go right now. I’ll beat them till-”

Your sweet laugh reaches his ears, cutting him off from his little speech. You lean in and pull in his hand to your lips, pressing a tender peck to his coarse knuckles. Gun felt his heart race and skip a beat at the sight, shock crossing his features. You look up, looking at your boyfriend with mirthful eyes. “As much fun as that sounds, I'd rather you stay here. Please? I want to spend as much time with you before you go back to work.”

The man stayed silent for a few seconds, taking in your words. He looked away, clicking his tongue before he broke out into a small smile, a blush blooming across his cheeks and the tip of his ears burning a bright red. “Of course, [Name]. Though, you could’ve just said you like spending time with me.”

Giggling, you lower your hands and shake your head. “Gun, of course I like spending time with you. You’re my favorite person and I love you after all.” Your voice said those three words with such fondness, it’s as if the man was in a dream. 

If your words from before didn’t send Gun over the edge, your proclamation of love surely did now. He looked down, grinning like an idiot, showing a soft, bashful side he’s never revealed to anyone before. He swore his heart would jump out of his throat from how fast it was pounding against his ribcage. Gun grasped your hand tightly and sighed blissfully, Gently, he spoke, gazing at you with loving eyes, “I love you too.”

You smiled.

The tension in the air grew to be too much and both of you found it unbearable, wanting to do what both of you have been waiting for for weeks.

Both of you sat up and leaned over the table, closing the gap between you two as your lips interlocked, slipping together like if you were made for eachother. The kiss sparked and fed the fire both of you held in your hearts, burning brighter with every moment you spent at one another’s side. Gun couldn’t help but smile against your mouth.

As much as he hated being apart from you for so long, moments like these made the long hours worth it. If working so much meant he could provide for you, then he wouldn't mind doing it for the rest of his life if you had a roof over your head and a nice, warm meal at night.

Afterall, you were his woman.

And he loved you.

✦✦✦✦✦✦

©𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚊 || 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚍 || 𝚗𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜, 𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚜, 𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚎𝚝𝚌. 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚌𝚒𝚛𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜 .

✦✦✦✦✦✦

[aggresivelyfriendly]

Darling, How could you be so blind.

“God, Izzy!” Harry moans into my neck and if you can be dizzy with power I’m spinning like a top. I’ve been perched on his lap grazing my hips against his and kissing his bubblegum lips for ages. His mouth has gone strawberry by now. It matches perfectly with the reddened patches on his neck. I’m punchy with pleasure that somehow I’ve been elected the girl to make him sound like this. Look like this, desperate.

Especially because before this started, I wasn’t in the starting line up, wasn’t even a walk on.

We’d been carousing around his mother’s garden party all afternoon, stealing orphaned glasses of wine. We’ve been red cheeked and merry for long enough that ID grown complacent in his company.

“Fuck, I’m too tipsy to go out now!” He’d dramatically thrown his head back on the pillow of his bed. We’d taken refuge in his bedroom when we realized we’d slunk off with enough wine to be stupid. It had taken him nearly breaking a goblet and me having to cross my legs to stop myself pissing with laughter.

“You’re the biggest clutz, it’s like you’re legs go too far ahead of you all the time.” Id been cackling and Harry had put his hand over my gasped mouth. His face so close eyed me for a moment. It always struck me stupid when he got so close, had since I was thirteen, but by sixteen it was a sickness. I always did my best to ignore it, until I was alone later.

“Shhh! You’re so loud.” He’d said, loudly. “I may be clutsy, but it’s a good job your name is not grace. Nearly pissing yourself, what a lady, pffft!” It would sound Hrsh if his smile wasn’t so wide. “Cmon” hed said. “Let’s go to my bedroom.”

And three minutes into trying to throw popcorn into each other’s mouths and failing terribly, hed started moaning about not being able to go with his other friends.

I never went out with the group. I had my own quieter group of girlfriends, but for reasons I didn’t examine too closely, I’d

Much rather spend all time with Harry.

Bravely I taunt, “you know you’d rather hang out with me!” He nodded and I knew that, but the confirmation made a balloon inflate in the region of my chest. “So, you’re not missing out on anything, yeah?” This time I just put popcorn into his mouth since I’d stayed up and closer while we were talking.

Harry’s plump lips were almost as distracting as his tongue when It slid against my index finger as he took the proffered bite.

“I mean, I’d rather be with you, ya know that, but I am missing out.”

“On Jonny’s stupendous Mario kart skills?” He never persisted this much.

“Well, it’s not just Jonny and Tim.” He was scratching the back of his neck and smirking, though the red in his cheeks indicated he had a little shame left.

“Emma?” He shook his head. Who else had I heard talking about him, or had to avoid talking about Harry to? “Sophie?”

He flashed his eyebrows.

“She just broke up with Jack, you’re already trying to date her?” My stomach was twisting.

“Not so much date her.” He cracked up at my disgusted face. “Oh Cmon lizard-“

“Hate when you call me that!”

“I know.” He reached out to tickle my knee. “But don’t you just ever wanna make out with someone?”

Yeah, you. “I mean, I suppose, but honestly, I’m not sure what all the fuss is about.”

“Then you’re not doing it properly.” He tsked.

“Or they’re not.” I countered. But I’d only done so much kissing, and the idea it was me twisted my face.

“Gonna stick like that!” He flicked my bottom lip and I bit his finger. At that his eyes flashed at me. “Maybe it’s not you then?”

“Come again?” I was honestly lost.

“Judging by that nibble there, you���re probably doing just fine…” he looked at me long enough for my breath to come a bit faster. “Maybe I don’t need to go anywhere..” he trailed off and the question, the proposition hung in the air between our mouths that had not seemed so close together a bit ago.

Objections ran through my mind, but I’d been dreaming about Harry kissing me since long before my actual first kiss. I’m not sure who possessed me at that moment, but I owed her a thank you note. I ducked my chin, and leaned a shade closer to him, “I suppose you don’t have to, no…”

His breath crossed the threshold of my lips before anything else. Id been thinking about how the pink of his mouth would feel against mine for so long, and yet the bee to honey sweet of it still caught my breath.

When I gasped, his tongue made itself welcome too. The kiss didn’t get messy, but it was wet and delicious. Flavored with wine, salt, and the hard back beat of my blood surging through my veins. His lips eased and opened mine like he did this

Professionally and the tip of his tongue was gentlemanly when it snicked across my bottom lip to ask for entry. The manners were left at the door then though. Once our slick muscles folded together, My stomach creased over on itself and my head went light. The slide of him over and against my tongue drew another sound ID never made before and I realized that Harry had been right all along. I didn’t know what I had been missing, and he didn’t need to go anywhere.

But he did, go everywhere for a very long time.

Unfortunately, He was everywhere but here, and I knew what I was missing.

[songmingisthighs]

[4.11] mafia!wooyoung × reader

⇀ you thought he didn't care, he was sure he doesn't, he had said it so himself to you. that was, until he almost lost the chance of being able to care for you.

⇁ tw : running away, mafia life (criminal/illegal acts)

⇁ part 1 / 2 / 3

⇁ disclaimer : the author does not support any and all criminal/illegal acts. the narrative written in this story is purely fiction out of the author's imagination. the things written here does not portray real mafia life nor is the author aware of how the mafia life is like. the author is a hermit loser.

At first, Wooyoung thought you had really ran away from him. After the fight you had the previous night, how could he not ?

"All I ask is a little bit of attention! I know you could spare some for me," you exclaimed, following after Wooyoung into the home office in his mansion. Yes, his, he never once said it was yours too so you treat it as such.

Wooyoung rolled his eyes at you, "and I ask you shut that big trap you called your mouth before I shut it for you, but we can't all get what we wanted now, can we ?" He spat.

You're used to his aggressive words, it used to hurt but now the pain just comes and goes. But you're at your wit's end, he was distant when you both were first forced into engagement but he was still polite so you thought that was just the shock, but now that you're married, things got worse.

"Wooyoung," you called, leaning both of your hands on his desk aa he sit on his office chair, "it's been 8 months since we got married," he glared at you when you said that, so you sighed and change your choice of words, "since we were force into marriage... But I've been trying so hard to make this less of a chore for both of us, I don't know what else I could do! You're not even bothering to hide the fact that you hate my guts to your very core even though it wasn't my fault that we got into this! Heck, you don't even bother to acknowledge that I exist!"

Wooyoung slammed his hands down on the table, standing face to face with you, "that's right," he chuckled darkly, "I don't even bother, you know why? Because you're nothing in my life, I never ask for you, I never wanted you, you're still here because your dad's business fell through with my dad and he used you as mean of escaping because that's all you are, princess," he leaned closer to your face and spoke through gritted teeth, "a worthless burden that people toss around,"

It would've been a lie if you said that his words doesn't affect you whatsoever. Because it does.

Maybe deep down that was one of your biggest fear and having someone confirmed that made you feel sick to your stomach. You recoiled from the table, as if having been struck across your face.

Though Wooyoung had a satisfied smirk on his face, "you should know I've been planning your assasination ever since you said 'I do', I would've made it look like an accident so that my dad wouldn't be up in my ass talking about losing his insurance of control over your dad, maybe I should move the schedule up so I can get rid of you quicker,"

You stared at him for a while, not knowing that he actually hated you that much. All this time you thought it was just petty reluctance of being tied to you, but this just brought things to a whole new level.

"No..." you choked out, trying to hold back tears, "I'll take care of it myself," and with that, you ran out of his office to pack all your belongings with tears streaming down your face.

And that was the last time Wooyoung had seen you. He had heard from one of his butlers that he had seen you running around the house retrieving your things where it supposedly was earlier, you looked frantic and you hadn't even taken a second to take a break.

"And did she got out of the house today?" Wooyoung asked from his position on the couch, loosening all of the buttons on his shirt. "No, master, not that any of us know of," said butler then leaned close to Wooyoung's ears, "the cctv has been cut off, her bodyguards are dismissed, no one has tended to her nor got close to her, and I personally see to it that all windows and doors are unlocked just as you had requested,"

Wooyoung couldn't believe that he's probably a free man now, that YOU had left him so that he wouldn't be in hot water with his father.

With a glass of whiskey in his hand, he decided to look around to see whether or not you had really left while telling his maid to prepare dinner for him.

True to what he expected, he made two laps around the mansion but not once did he find you. Not even in his office with a divorce paper, as dramatic as it sound.

He finally step into his shared bedroom with you to make his final confirmation.

At first he knocked on the door, not really knowing why he did that, but when no sound came from the room he simply opened the door and walked in. He hadn't returned the night before, spending half of his night in his home office before going out with San to a bar, not realizing that it was his guilt that drove him out to drink his memory away.

Looking around the room, he couldn't really tell whether or not you had ran away. The room looked like it had been slept in the night before, he could see the spot where you laid in comparison to his side that's perfectly neat.

When he stepped into the walk-in closet, he was quite surprised at the sheer contrast to the bedroom. Your clothes thrown haphazardly, it seems like you were urgently looking for things to pack, and the more he analyze the items on the floor, the more he realized that you hadn't taken anything that was bought with his money.

But that wasn't the thing that got his attention.

It was your wedding dress that had been taken out of its garment bag, across from it, an empty bottle of wine and a box of tissues with crumpled tissues surrounding it. It looked straight out of a movie.

He walked closer to the dress and trailed a hand down it.

He remembered seeing you wear it on your wedding day. He remembered being too pissed at his father to be able to fully appreciate how ethereal you looked. He remembered how when you looked at him, he could see the redness in your eyes, indicating that you had been crying.

But over all, he remembered how his heart skipped a beat when he saw you walking closer to him. Of course, he would never admit it outwardly.

His train of thought was broken when his butler knocked on his bedroom door, "master, dinner is served," he said.

Wooyoung cleared his throat and straighten out his posture, "yes, of course, I'll be there soon," he called out.

As the footsteps of his butler fade, he carefully zip your wedding dress back into its garment bag, making sure that the dress is stored perfectly.

After that, he went to the dining room to have his dinner.

Usually, you'd be seated in your seat, across from him at the other end of the table that seats 10 people. He'd have to admit that it feels weird not seeing you smile at him after a long day of working, but he forced himself to believe that it was a good kind of weird.

Strangely, as he eat his food he felt that it doesn't match his palate, that something feels off. So he called for his head butler and asked him about it.

"Did we change cooks? Why does today's dinner taste so bland?"

His butler seemed hesitant to answer him, looking at the head maid for a bit. The middle-aged woman stepped forward from her spot, bowing slightly to avoid Wooyoung's eyes, "we did not have any change in staffs, sir, it's just that the mistress used to prepare all of your meals and considering... the circumstances, she had not prepared anything for you," she said, not even bothering to hide her bitterness that he had drove you away.

Considerably, he was shocked that you had never brought the fact up to him. But as usual, he masked his true feelings and just nod at her, continuing with his meal even though he can't seem to enjoy it.

The shock didn't stop there, though.

Over the course of the first 5 days of you leaving him, he began noticing the things that indicate your presence in his house. Or used to indicate your presence.

He never knew that you were the one who always put flowers around the mansion. He noticed this when he passed by a vase of wilting aconite. It almost broke him when he see the maids cleared all flowers, leaving an empty vase that he now associate with your absence.

He never knew that you kept tabs on food he likes and dislikes. After 3 days, he gave up on eating the food his cook made for him, firing the poor man on the spot and resorting to take outs.

He never knew that you were the one who personally arrange his wardrobe. Usually, every morning he'd find his favorite shirts or favorite sets of clothes on the front, ready for him to pick out and wear. Now that you're not here, he had to spend extra time deciding what to wear.

And lastly, he was surprised at the fact that you had never made it to your hometown.

"What do you mean she's not with her parents?" He growled at his henchmen, making them visibly scared. "W-we tried looking for her, even asking around, but no one had seen her," he explained.

All Wooyoung wanted was to hear about how you're happier without him, how you've settled back to your life without him, how he'd be assured with the fact that you leaving him was the best thing that could ever happen to you two.

Feeling that he owed this for the sake of his own closure, he ordered everyone under him to find out your whereabouts.

The desperation suffocated him, he hated the feeling.

So he ran out of his office to his garden, going to the furthest side where it is practically abandoned so that he'd be all alone to calm his mind.

What he hadn't expect to see though, was several pieces of clothes on the ground. At first he just thought that the laundry might have flown away due to the wind, but when he inspected them closer, he recognized them as yours.

"Why would these be here?" He muttered to himself as he began picking up the scattered pieces of clothes one by one. When he picked up the last piece, he noticed your suitcase by the corner of the tall wall that surround his house for protection.

The sight that made his stomach drop was a rather huge hole that could fit a person.

Wooyoung's brain put 2 and 2 together and the only reasonable conclusion made him feel like blowing up.

You had been kidnapped.

[221bshrlocked]

Uuhhhh tell me more about that Marcus Pike thot

Say no more!! 3K of filth below the cut so proceed with caution babes.

Marcus knows he's in trouble as soon as you make an appearance. Whatever conversation he was a part of evaporates as he watches you walk through the crowd and smile towards him. He almost drops the drink in his hand but instead tightens his hold around the glass to feel grounded. When you reach him and the other agents, you bid your hellos before you turn towards him and raise an eyebrow at the obvious bewilderment on his face.

“And good evening to you Agent Pike,” the way you use his title makes him wish he could just lean over and kiss you but he remembers where he is and the reason behind this gala and he clears his throat almost immediately.

“H-hey, you um…you look- uhh,” his forgets what he wants to say when you tilt your head and throw him that pretty smile of yours. When he stays quiet and continues to stare at you, you look around at the other agents and laugh.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, even though you still didn’t say what exactly I look like.” Everyone laughs when Marcus blushes at your words and you slip your hands through his arm before you excuse yourself. Marcus follows blindly, never once moving his eyes away from you.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you like the dress.” You lean down and whisper to Marcus as you nod at the guests you pass and Marcus can’t find the words to say anything so he gulps down the rest of the drink and looks away.

“You know, you don’t look so bad yourself. Actually, I don’t think you could ever look bad even if you tried darling.” At that, Marcus halts in his steps and turns to face you. He blinks in confusion at your bold words and as he’s about to ask you what you meant, you take the wine glass away from him and move towards one of the hallways. Marcus is still too star struck to say anything and it’s not until the two of you are standing in the middle of the host’s art collection that he finally snaps out of his haze.

“We- we shouldn’t be here, it’s-”

“Oh come on, we’re the ones that returned all of this back to what’s his face, I’m sure it’s fine.” You walk around and study the paintings, making sure to spend a long while facing away from Marcus so he could get a fill of your almost nude back. When you turn around and begin walking towards Marcus, he gulps nervously and fists his hands tightly so he doesn’t do anything that might bother you.

“If I had known that a pretty dress and some heels would finally get you to notice me, I would have come into work dressed like this every day.” You smile when he unintentionally looks down to the low cut dress.

“I- I always notice you,” it’s the last thing you expect Marcus to say and when you raise a curious eyebrow at him, he inhales deeply before he parts his lips to continue. “I just thought that…you- you wouldn’t be interested in a guy like me.” The confession breaks your heart because it seemed that everyone on the team knew of your not-so-little crush but him.

“Baby,” Marcus shivers at the way you moan at him and he shuts his eyes when you slip your hands up his chest until they’re around his neck, “you’re all I think about day and night…even since you joined our team, I thought of no one else but you.” It’s Marcus’ turn to be surprised at your revelation and before he can respond, you lean up and kiss his lips, silently begging him to move against you as you slip your tongue into his mouth and explore him.

Marcus is shocked by the turn of events but he immediately wraps his arms around your back, groaning in pain when he feels your heated skin beneath his touch. He slips one hand underneath the satin material of the dress and deepens the kiss when you moan in return. It’s no longer a sweet sentiment but a hungry one as the two of you devour each other. When Marcus digs his fingers into your curves, you unintentionally tug on his hair, the action earning you the sweetest little whimper from Marcus as he breaks the kiss and begs for you.

Oh, this was interesting.

“Marcus, baby…I need you.” It sounds more like a command than anything else and Marcus furrows his eyebrow in shock when he looks at you and sees how serious you are.

“What? Here, right now?” His voice breaks and you almost laugh at how surprised he sounds, but you push him away and begin to slide down to your knees. Marcus almost chokes when you drag your hands down his chest and cup his hardening cock through his pants. As soon as he hunches over to try and beg you to stop before this goes any further, you’re pulling him down and moving him onto his back. Marcus’s world turns upside down all of a sudden and as he’s about to ask you how you managed to get him on the floor so quickly, you’re straddling his lap and covering him with your body.

“Fuck baby you feel so good like this, so fucking hard,” you smile when you feel his hands move to your hips and begin to rock you against him. Marcus is torn between taking in your excited flesh and the pretty smile that can’t seem to leave your features but you don’t give him an option as you mold your lips with his own plush ones again and suck on them. He’s a mess beneath you already and you wish with all your heart that you were somewhere more private so you could hear him plead and beg for you to have your way with him.

“God baby, you’ve been holding out on me haven’t you? You’re so fucking broad, so big and strong, thank God your clothes don’t reveal how fit you are or else I would have lost you a long time ago.” Marcus coos at your praise and you know immediately that he was the type of man that longed to be controlled. It made sense since he was often the one making difficult decisions on a daily basis. You continue to rock against the tent on his dress pants and as you sit up and drag your nails down his chest, Marcus arches his neck and squeezes the skin of your hips. One look at his delicious neck and you lean down again and begin to suck on his jugular. Marcus growls when he feels your teeth dig into his Adam's apple and he bends his knees to get you to move closer to him.

“Ah fuck please…please I- I need-” He can’t finish the sentence again and you reluctantly pull away and slide down his legs for a moment. Marcus is disappointed and wants to ask you why you stopped when he looks down and sees what you’re doing.

“I- are you-”

“I need to feel you inside me baby, right now. I’m so fucking wet for you. Don’t you want to feel me too? I could make you see stars Agent Pike, have your thick cock fill me to the brim until I can’t think of anything else…let me walk around with your cum leaking down my thighs baby please? What do you say?” You’ve already unbuckled his belt and zipped down his pants but you wait for a moment to make sure that he wants this as much as you. When he doesn’t answer right away, you realize that you may have taken this too far, but before you can get up, Marcus takes your hand and raises it to his lips before he kisses your palm.

“Please sweetheart, make me yours.” It’s all the confirmation you need before you lower down his pants and boxers far enough to take out his cock and when your eyes widen at the sight of how large and thick it is, Marcus whines in pain. “Please,” he whispers again and you remember what you want to do. Not caring for how filthy it might look, you spit on your hands and slide them up and down his length, relishing the way Marcus whimpers and shudders with every squeeze and scratch you deliver to him.

Marcus’ attention shifts to you when you let go of him, and he barely manages to hold back from coming when he sees you move your dress aside to reveal the gun holster that holds your weapon and your badge. It’s the prettiest and filthiest sight he could ever behold and he knows it will forever be etched in his mind. To know that someone as beautiful and dangerous as you chose him makes Marcus want to confess his deepest desires to you but he can’t find the coherence yet again when he looks down and sees your bare cunt glistening for him.

“You’re…you didn’t wear any-”

“Easier access for you baby,” you wink at him and almost chuckle when he blushes even deeper. There’s a compliment at the tip of his tongue but he stops breathing when you hold yourself up and take hold of his cock. A few swipes against your clit makes you moan his name over and over again, and Marcus thinks that he must have died and went to heaven because there was no way something so minimal was making you pray his name like a mantra.

He wants to beg you for more, he wants to ask you to just take him right then and there, to mark him with your arousal and your lipstick, and your teeth. But his brain melts away all sorts of thoughts as soon as you lower yourself down on his dick until he could feel you clench around every bit of him. Marcus feels like the wind was knocked out of him as you take him in your tight, wet cunt and when he looks at you and sees the smile on your mouth widen in pleasure, he knows he is the luckiest man alive.

“Ohhh fuck baby you…you feel so much better than I thought…than I dreamt all those nights. I could feel you so deep inside me Marcus, so hard and hot…shit- can I move baby? Please, let me move, wanna cum on your cock,” he’s not sure why you’re asking him if you can move when he should be the one telling you if he could, but he doesn’t bother to question you, nodding frantically like a crazed man as he moves his hands up your thighs to your tits. Marcus feels under a haze when he slips his warm hands beneath the fabric of your dress and as soon as he swipes his fingers across your hardened nipples, you begin to rock against him. He wants to tell you how pretty you look like this, taking your pleasure from him as if he was the only one that could make you feel good. But every time he tries to say anything, your cunt squeezes his cock and he forgets what he’s going to say.

“Oh yes baby that’s it, you’re so thick Marcus. Such a good boy for letting me get off on your cock,” Marcus whines at your words, and he marvels at how you managed to make him a mess within seconds of fucking him. He pinches your nipples and feels the breath get knocked out of him when you throw your head back and moan his name. But then you’re taking hold of both of his wrists and slamming them above his head and he wants to scream. His cock drives deeper into you the closer you move against him and he looks up with nothing but reverence in his eyes as he watches you fuck yourself on his dick.

“You look so good like this baby, letting me use you…such a pretty little thing you are. Ah fuck…fuck oh god yes, right there, right fucking there baby,” you lose your train of thoughts for a moment, relishing the way he seems to meet your thrusts half way and push deeper into you with each push of his hips. You’d tell him later that you’ve never felt someone go as deep in your pussy as he has, knowing that unlike other men where such a confession would go to their heads, Marcus would probably blush and tell you that you were just being silly.

“C-can’t wait for you to- to mark me with your cum baby, I- I won’t get off until you cum in my pussy…till I can feel you filling me up with your beautiful cock, oh fuck Marcus, I’m so close. Please baby I want to cum, but- but I won’t cum till you push your seed in my cunt. Do-don’t you wanna mark me Agent Pike? S-so everyone could know what we did here tonight? Don’t you want me to walk around with you leaking down my thighs..m-making a mess of my dress, a-and my gun…and my badge…oh god oh fuck oh yes-“

“Sweetheart please…Ahhh f-fucking hell I-” Your hands immediately shoot to his neck when he begins to scream his pleasure into the empty room. Marcus feels a zap of pleasure shoot down his spine when you clamp your palm around his mouth to quiet him down. He looks into your eyes and shakes when he sees the way you’re staring down at him.

“Shhhh baby, don’t want an audience now do we? Fuck- fuck Marcus I- I really am close but you- you have to be quiet…cum for me…be a good boy and cum in me,” you edge him on further, whispering your own desires to him like a sweet benediction as you begin to ride him harder. You could feel every protruding vein sliding against your tight walls and you focus as much as possible on not coming until you feel him shoot his seed into your womb. Marcus keeps his hands above his head and you can’t help but tighten the hold you have around his neck just a little to get him to lose control. As willing as he was beneath you, you know you could get him riled up until he fucks up into you.

As soon as you shove two fingers into his mouth, Marcus’ hands shoot to your waist and he bends his knees to ground himself to the floor before he fucks up into you without remorse. You want to scream his name but you know you’d probably get in trouble if you are caught so you bite into your lower lip and keep your hands on his throat and mouth so you could quiet him down. He’s groaning like a man who’s in between pain and pleasure and as soon as you turn your attention down towards him and see him silently begging if he can cum, you move your fingers across his tongue and push down on it to get his attention.

“Go on, cum for me baby…claim my pussy.” It’s all he needs to push his cock into you a few more times before he holds you harshly against him. As soon as you feel his warm seed shoot inside your pussy, you throw your head back and clench around him violently, not caring for how oversensitive he must feel as your walls flutter around his dick. The sight of you reaching your pleasure just from feeling him fill you up drives Marcus mad and he pulls you down against his chest to claim your mouth as well. You let go of neck and lose yourself against him as his hips continue to rock against your own softly, as if he wanted to drive his seed deeper into you so it would take longer for it to seep down your legs.

The two of you are heaving aggressively as you continue to touch each other and it’s not until you hear laughter erupt outside the doors of the private room that you remember where you are.

Marcus is first to break the kiss and he looks up at you as if he still wasn’t sure of your intentions. When you caress his cheeks and nudge his nose with your own, a smile beams across his handsome features and he moves his arms across your back to keep you close to him.

“How about we finish this off back at your place?” You don’t even have to finish the question before Marcus is nodding up at you and you lean down to give him a quick peck on the lips before you get off of him. Both of you wince in disappointment as Marcus pulls out and you fix your dress as quickly as possible before you help Marcus look a little presentable. When you take him in and start laughing, Marcus blushes and tries to fix his bowtie and hair.

“Baby, you look thoroughly fucked. No amount of fixing will make you appear otherwise, I- I would say I’m sorry but one look at you in that suit and I kinda lost myself. You look delicious,” as you thought earlier, Marcus shakes his head and tries to avoid your gaze when you continue to eye him like a piece of candy.

“Well, I- I think it’s best if we just l-leave now.” He tries to distract you but you ignore his comment and pull him but his jacket.

“Nuh uh, I wasn’t lying when I said I want to walk around with your cum leaking down my thighs Agent Pike.” Marcus’ eyes widen in embarrassment when you lean into his space and leave a few kisses across the skin of his neck.

“W-what am I supposed to do until w-we leave?” He points at himself and waits for your response.

“Well, you’re a smart boy. I think you’ll figure it out.” You wink at him before you move towards the exit and unlock the door of the room. Marcus stands there in silence until a smile slowly makes its way across his features.

But it goes away as quick as it comes when Marcus looks up and sees a red light flashing at the corner of the room.

Fuck, the cameras!