#The Return of Chuck The Fish Whisperer | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fyoxi · 18 days ago

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୨ৎ 𝓱𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓰 . . . ft. fyodor dostoevsky

fyodor dostoevsky x f.reader. hurt -> comfort-ish. bsd spoilders from ch. 53 on. brief mentions of a somewhat codependent relationship.

fyodor doesn't like leaving you in the dark. he can't tell you everything of course, though only for your own safety. he does try his best to tell you everything he can, so at least he knows you're worrying about him even just a tiny bit less.

but there are some things, albeit very few, that are out of his control. his capture and arrest had completely blindsided him, and he had no possible way of letting you know where he was, or what was going on, from that moment on.

his arrest was one of the few times in his entire life he felt genuine fear. not from being arrested. it was a type of fear that he felt deep in my bones, twisting like a boulder in his gut. it felt like the fear he had caused his whole body to shut down. he was afraid he'd never find his way back to you. you'd be left in the dark about where he was, if he was hurt, if he was even alive. and he'd have to sit in a cell knowing he could do nothing to ease your suffering.

his arrest was also the first time in his life he had felt such desperation. he pleaded, practically begged, the officers at meursault to let him write to you. but they all denied his pleas. even seeming to enjoy that they were able to deprive the fyodor dostoevsky, one of the world's most wanted ability users, of something he so clearly was desperate for.

it was pathetic, he thought, how every guard he encountered behind the prison's walls seemed to giggle gaggle about his situation. despite the fact that everyone in the room knew that if fyodor had been able to wield his ability, they'd all cower in fear.

but now they chucked and whispered amongst themselves as they stripped him of all of his belongings, including his wedding band. which he watched as it was tossed so carelessly into a bag, and he knew he'd probably never see it again.

they were harsh as they slammed the steel cuffs on his wrists and shoved his head down as they guided him to his cell. the cramped space that would essentially be his home for the foreseen future.

fyodor thought about you every moment he was awake. every passing thought he had would eventually come back to you.

when he was brought his meals, he'd think about all the meals you made him. cooked with so much care, and thought behind. making the best meals possible to help with his poor health. every soup, or sauce, or marinate soaking with that silly iron fish you were so fond of. but you swore boiling it in with his food would help his deficiency. and it could have been the iron fish, or it could have been love, but he did feel the healthiest he's ever been since he's been with you.

when he was laying down to sleep, he'd think of you. how he had taken for granted how comfortable the bed he shared with you was. how the mattress was so soft his body sunk into it. and he never thought he would miss such a thing, but he longed to have to move the obscene amount of plushies and decorative pillows off the bed before he could lay down.

even when he was plotting and scheming a way out, the thoughts mostly revolved around coming home to you. he promised himself he'd get out. of course he would.

there was no question that he'd slip his way out, the way it's certain that a rat would squeeze through the smallest of cracks. it was certain that fyodor would make his way back to you. the question was how, and when. the only sure thing about his plan, aside from its inevitable success, was that the very first thing he would do would finally return home.

. . . .

you learned of fyodor's arrest through the newspaper.

he hadn't returned home the day he promised, and while you were worried beyond measure, you had managed to convince yourself — somewhat — that he would be home very soon.

you missed him dearly, but life needed to move on. that's what fyodor always told you "i may be away, but your life must still go on, milaya"

you saw the paper on display in a shop while you were picking up groceries. out of the corner of your eye you saw the front page, and immediately recognized fyodor.

it felt like the headline had crushed you immediately, and despite the words from fyodor that you tried to live by when he was away, the whole world seemed to freeze in its place. at least your world did.

while the whole world moved on around you, it felt like you were stuck in place. pinned down by a weight that felt like a hundred tons blanketing your whole body.

for almost a year fyodor was gone, and you barely managed to keep things moving. doing the bare minimum to keep things in your home running. everyday seemed to bleed together, and day and night no longer had any difference to you.

the dependency you had on fyodor wasn't something you were completely proud of. but you couldn't really help it. even before him something in you felt hollow. you got on just fine, but it always felt like something was missing. a feeling that only went away when your life had collided with fyodor's.

you and fyodor had connected so deeply from the moment you had met each other for the very first time. your lives and souls so intertwined that fyodor being gone felt like a part of yourself had gone away with him.

most days you spent laying on the couch. you had moved to spending most of your time in the living room. the bedroom was too big for just you. the bed was too cold and empty without fyodor to share it with, so you had taken to the couch. spending nights lulling yourself to sleep with fantasies of fyodor returning home, and your days staring at the front door. hoping that the door knob would turn, and fyodor would come in.

a day dream you had fallen so deeply into at times that you had managed to convince yourself it would really happen. sometimes finding yourself practically sprinting towards the front door at the slightest noise. it was always a disappointment that left you in a weeping pile on the living room floor.

eventually you somehow managed to stop yourself from making a scene at every little noise. but despite your best efforts, you just couldn't get yourself to accept that fyodor would never come home. you still had hope that you'd be with him again.

this day was just like every other day before it. you barely managed to get through even the smallest of household chores before you took to the couch again. staring at the front door, zoning out as you tuned out the random talk show you put on in the background to pretend that you had company. though it did very little, almost nothing, to ease your loneliness.

and the doorknob jiggled.

this was really a new low for you. had your day dreams become so vivid out of your desperation that you had actually started seeing them ? how pathetic you'd become. you wondered if fyodor would be ashamed of how desperate you'd become.

and the doorknob shook again.

there was a muffled mumbling outside, accompanied by a series of the door knob twisting and shaking. like someone on the other side of the door had stuck something in the lock in place of a key to try and open the door.

you sat up right on the couch, staring at the door. your mind rushed with a thousand thoughts. a break in ? your landlord wondering where you've been ? maybe someone had mistaken your apartment for their own ?

a thousand thoughts ran through your mind, but one stuck out that made your stomach light up with butterflies and nerves all at the same time. surely... this couldn't be fyodor.

you sat up straight as a pin, staring at the door with wide eyes, like a deer in headlights, as you watched the lock turn and the door open.

fyodor closed the door behind him, and time felt like it was standing still as he stood in front of the door. neither of you moved. you couldn't believe it was real. or you wouldn't let yourself believe it.

"milaya.." fyodor finally said. he spoke the word with a heavy exhale, like he had been holding his breath for so long, only letting it go when he said the name.

hearing him was all the confirmation you needed. lunging up from your place on the couch, and cried out his name, colliding hard against his chest, it was almost painful, but you didn't care. you didn't even think about it.

your legs latching around his waist. it knocked fyodor back, using his hand to brace himself against the wall, and holding you up as tight as he could with his other arm. his time in prison had left him in the worst physical state he's ever been in.

you tried hard to form words, but all that came out was a mix of heavy sobs and cries of his name. and fyodor didn't bother to start a conversation, leaning his body against the door to be able to hold you.

he absolutely reeked. the smell of dried blood, build up of body order, and stale water all mixed together. but just in this moment, you wouldn't have been able to tell that scent from the smell of a basket of freshly picked berries, or the top of a baby's head. to you, with your face tucked into the side of his neck, he smelled like the sweetest thing in the world.

"im home, milaya" fyodor said as your cries turned to soft sniffles and whimpers, his voice was raspy and weak, he sounded out of breath and sickly.

"you're home" you repeated, your own voice shaky, on the verge of breaking into sobs again.

"i'm sorry. i'm so sorry."

fyodor's apology was simple. but 'sorry' was not an emotion fyodor often had the need for. so when he said it, when he said it to you, he meant it.

his apology was met only with another quiet sob, your tears running down the side of his neck, soaking into the collar of the prison attire he was still dressed in. fyodor felt his own eyes burning, his own tears threatening to make an appearance.

he could only imagine the suffering you'd been through this past year. but he knew it was tenfold worse than his own. while he knew that you were alive and well at home, as he was rotting in his cell planning his escape, you had no idea what the state of his well-being was. you spent the last year wondering if your husband was dead or alive.

he never wanted that for you. he took your marriage, his vows to you so seriously. you had been joined in the name of god, and it was his job to protect you from such suffering. he felt like he had failed. fyodor never failed. at least never on something he held so deep in his heart.

"i'm sorry" he said again

there was another long moment of silence, your sniffles and fyodor's shaky breaths as his own tears ran down his face being the only noises filling the air.

it was a while before you took a deep breath and spoke again. "you stink," you said. your blunt words were an attempt to lighten things up. it was a joyful reunion of course, but the heavy fog caused by the suffering of being apart for so long had not yet been lifted.

"i know" fyodor nodded, wiping his face with the back of his sleeve, trying to regain his composure.

fyodor kept you in his arms as he made his way towards the bedroom, using the wall to assist him. his steps were slow, and his legs were shaky, but he didn't once ever think of putting you down until he was able to set you down on the edge of the bed.

he squeezed your hand, firm but gentle, before going to the dresser to grab a fresh pair of lounging clothes.

"i'm filthy, milaya"

"you gonna shower ?" you asked him. he nodded in response. "i didn't get rid of any of your things," you said, getting up to follow him into the bathroom.

"i know" he said with a slight nod, and a little smile. "i know, you didn't"

you sat down on the closed toilet seat, your knees pulled up under your chin as fyodor turned the shower on and began undressing, tossing the prison uniform in the direction of the trash can rather than the laundry hamper.

your heart sunk as you saw the state his body was in. of course you noticed how unstable he was when he was carrying you, but his physical state was a wreck. his skin was shades paler than it usually was. it looked drained of all colors. leaving his body a sick gray color. and he had become so thin, like he had become nothing but a skeleton wrapped with skin. his rib and hip bones stuck out. his body looked like he was a dead man walking.

"i'll be okay, milaya" fyodor reassured you as he stepped into the shower, like he was reading your mind.

you stayed in your place on the toilet seat as you waited for fyodor to shower. you still felt a deep seated worry that this was all in your imagination, and if you left the bathroom fyodor would simply disappear again.

it took fyodor quite a few washes of his hair and body before he finally felt clean. by the time it was done, most of his products were empty.

he turned the water off, and slid open the curtain "could you hand me a towel, please ?" he asked

you nodded, quickly getting up to grab a towel from the rack in the connected bedroom. you handed it to fyodor, who was shivering as he stood naked in the shower, hair dripping wet.

he ran the towel over his head before wrapping it around his waist, and stepping out of the shower. you took your place back on the toilet as he brushed his teeth, scrubbing maybe a little too rough with his toothbrush.

he spit into the sink, spitting up globs of blood along with spit. you watched as he used his hand to rinse out the sink and his mouth with water, before filling a cap full of the mouthwash from the cupboard.

everything in the house was still in the same place as it was when he left home the last time. his hand gripped the side of the sink, groaning in pain as the alcohol based mouthwash burned the tiny cuts in his mouth from brushing so hard. he spit in the sink and rinsed it out one more time before turning off the water, and dressing himself in the comfortable lounging clothes he had pulled out before.

"do you feel better ?" you asked

fyodor nodded, taking a deep breath that seemed to allow his whole body to finally relax as he exhaled it. "much better"

he nodded towards your bedroom "bed ?" he asked. you nodded eagerly, having been so desperate to finally be back in bed with him after so long.

fyodor made his way to the bedroom, taking off all the plushies and decorative pillows off the bed, and placing them down on the ground. and he honestly couldn't think of a single complaint about it. maybe he didn't entirely understand the need for the over consumption of anything and everything soft, but he understood now that this wouldn't be your home without them.

in almost comical, the synced movements you made as you both got into bed and under the covers. you moved as close as you could to fyodor. it still didn't feel close enough. you wished you could merge into him, to become one. you never wanted to be away from him again. you wanted nothing more in the world then to be with him every second for the rest of your life.

"i'm glad you're home" you whispered

"i'm never leaving again" fyodor responded, thin fingers running across your hair

"you promise ?" you asked, your voice shakey, on the verge of tears again.

"i swear my life to god. i am never leaving you again, milaya"

#ꨄ︎ . . . literature #bungou stray dogs #bsd #fyodor dostoevsky #bsd fyodor #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoevsky x reader

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ahbts · 1 month ago

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Kinktober day 10: Jegulus - Praisekink || NSFW || words: 1041 || Tags: double praise kink - older Jegulus - blowjob - anal sex (day 22 of @jeguluskinktoberr )

James looks up at Regulus from where he is laying between his legs, cock in his mouth and spit on his chin from the last good ten minutes he has been sucking his husband off.

The loss of contact makes Regulus look down and find James smiling up at him. Having been married for more than twenty years makes it easy for Regulus to decipher what James is fishing for and his emerald eyes twinkle playfully when they meet James’.

“You've been so good, Jamie, the way you suck my cock is unmatched,” Regulus cooes as he pushes himself up on his elbows so he can look down more easily. James feels the hot tingle of the words crawl up his spine and he leans down to continue what he had been doing.

A well-earned moan leaves Regulus’ lips, and James looks up to find his husband with his head thrown back and his legs spread even wider. “Oh you're so amazing James, I want more of it, anything your prefect fucking body can give me.”

James deepthroats Regulus as he lets the praise settle into his bones. His hands caresse the inside of Regulus’ thigh and dip to the inside before pushing so Regulus’ legs fall open even a bit more and automatically up as well, exposing himself to James’ minstartions.

“Want to make you feel good, love,” James tells Regulus as he pop's off his cock and kisses down his balls. “Want to hear your words and moans and everything else that would come out of your pretty mouth, you will take it so well.”

Regulus gasps and shuffles down in a gesture for James to get on with it, which he happily does. With the first strokes of his tongue he hears Regulus groan softly and a ‘fuck, so good’ thrown his way.

It's easy to get a finger into the man as he is already very relaxed. James curls it in the exact right way while keeping up his kisses and licks.

“God Jamie, yes, your fingers are the second best thing to have ever filled me,” Regulus groans, reaching down to wind his hands in James’ hair, the greying streaks in them reminding James every time he looks at himself of how quick time is passing.

“Yeah? Need something else sweetheart?” James asks, feeling his heartbeat quicken as he meets the blazing emerald green that's looking at him with nothing but love.

“Please,” Regulus begs, letting go of James’ hair so he can come up to kiss him. The soft lips James knows so well greet him greedily, and he devours him while Regulus’ hand reaches down and strokes James to a point of panting.

“If you want me to fuck you, you should stop because those hands of you make me insane,” James growls into Regulus’ ear as he kisses down his neck, biting softly and leaving marks all he likes.

“Says you,” Regulus counters, but he halts his movement so James can maneuver himself under Regulus. He grins up at his husband and Regulus just smiles in return. “Is your back still hurting?”

“No,” James shakes his head honestly, “I just want to see you ride me.”

Regulus laughs as he suffles down a bit, his hand reaching for the lube and spreading it on James’ cock as well as his hole. “Oh, is that so?” He asks, lowering himself to grind his lubed arse onto James’ stiff erection. “How come?”

“Because you are ethereal, and I love you, and you look fucking amazing for a fifty year old.”

“Forty-nine,” Regulus corrects him as he sits up on knees and grabs onto James so he can spear himself onto his cock. “Not there yet.”

James can't not focus on the feeling of Regulus around him but tries as he laughs and retorts. “One more week, love.”

“Ssst, I'm in denial,” Regulus chuckes, leaning down while settling on James’ cock and rocking slowly to kiss his husband sweetly. “We're not going to talk about that right now,” he states, whispering against James’ lips. “Right now, I'm going to ride you like I am still twenty and just discovering your body.”

“You still look like it,” James smiles, squeezing Regulus’ hips as the man sits up and starts moving himself up and down slowly.

“Liar,” Regulus laughs, which turns into a moan as he moves down.

“I would never,” James groans, bucking his hips up to meet Regulus’ movements down. “You are so gorgeous, so gracefull and even the popping of your knees is a beautiful sound.”

In retalliation, Regulus plants his hands on James’ chest and makes himself move quick, letting James slip in and out in such a rapid rate he can only moan and gasp while Regulus uses him for his own pleasure.

“Oh god, Jamie you feel so good,” he moans, falling forward onto James chest as his legs start shaking. James keeps up his trusting, proving Regulus’ point. “You are so good for me.”

“You take me so well, love,” James sighs in contentment as he feels his orgasm approach. “Let me take care of you.”

They flip, Regulus resting on his back now and James propped up on his knees as he slides back in, taking Regulus’ aching cock in his hands. “So fucking beautiful,” he tells him and Regulus groans loudly.

“Jamie, James I will come, keep talking,” Regulus tells him and James obeys, leaning forward and kissing Regulus’ neck while he strokes him and keeps up his thrust.

“You are so tight, god you feel amazing, I will not hold on for long, love, please come for me,” James tells him, his thrusts getting more sloppy and he feels Regulus thicken under his hand.

“Fuck, shit. So fucking good,” Regulus gasps before arching his back and spilling over James’ hand.

“God look at that,” James tells him, admiring the man he loves so dearly. “You're devine.”

The clenching of Regulus around his cock makes James colapse into his own climax and he falls on top of his husband with a satisfied moan.

“Good boy,” Regulus cooes as his hand glides through James’ hair. He snuggles closer and lets himself be englufed by all the love between them.

#den kinktober 2024 #microfic #kinktober #marauders #fanfic #jegulus kinktober #jegulus #oldermen #them knees are popping #god I love them too much

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imfluentinfangirlandgay · 6 months ago

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A Father's Resolve - Ch 11

Ingo returns after a decade - with two extra cars in tow. Years later, his kids are swallowed up by time in the same way he was. Will he be able to find them? Will they be able to make it out alive?

Word Count ~3100

Irida gazed down at the huge basket of balms. The wicker basket nearly rose to Rei’s knees. She sighed, flexing her hands after so much tying. Lian shook his head and looked up at the twins. “I will summon the mighty Kleavor, if you are ready.” The twins locked eyes. They nodded. “Very well. Prepare yourselves.” He motioned for the three others to step back as he approached the pedestal. “O, mighty Kleavor, Lord of the Woods, benevolent lord who works between heaven and earth, we offer our gratitude. Though it may not be time for the ceremony, we have gathered offerings of your favorite things. We beseech you. Reveal yourself to our eyes…”

Irida whispered to them, “Dodging will be vital. Try to avoid his attacks. I fear he will not hold back.” Blood was beginning to pulse through Rei’s body. Was this going to be hard? How hard?

“GRAASHAAAAA!” Rei jolted upright as something loud, large, and heavy screeched just up ahead in the arena. Akari took his hand and they walked together into the Arena. A massive tree stood in the middle of it. Other than that, it was just a deep pit of dirt with walls on all sides, forming a perfect circle. The two glanced around, Rei’s heart rate still picking up.

A flash of gold. Rei whirled around to see what it was. Something streaked past them, circling them as it watched from the edges of the Arena, running so fast it was a blur, the sound of something slicing and then a thud. Rei watched with wide eyes as a huge golden silhouette with glowing white eyes landed on the ground just a few paces in front of them. It was watching them closely. It lifted the huge axes it had for hands high into the air, sending them crashing down into the packed soil so hard, it sent some flying. A tree behind them fell with a loud crash, making Rei jump. Had this thing cut it down? It had been a full grown tree! The creature had very spindly arms and legs, but its main body seemed to be rather insectoid. It roared at them in challenge. Its eyes glinted a bright yellow-

“Rei, duck!”

No sooner had it roared than a flurry of activity happened all at once. The thing swung at the speed of light. Rei acted on instinct, rolling away and dodging the attack. He could feel the wind from the swing on his cheek. He managed to get to his feet and just started to run. He ran around the Arena, seeing the golden light in his peripheral. Was it following him? He finally managed to get a look.

It was charging up an attack. It had its axes planted firmly into the dirt, energy building up around it. Its eyes glinted again.

Rei ducked around the tree as it thrust itself forward, using its axes like a catapult. The space he had just inhabited was met by two large swinging axes. Something smacked its back, spattering pink sparks everywhere. The creature’s head swung around to the spot of the disturbance. As it turned, Rei saw the smatterings of some fibrous vegetation burning away on its golden hide and an aromatic smell wafted into his nostrils. He’d completely forgotten about the balms! The thing was now watching his sister closely, preparing another charged assault on her. It swung its axes, slamming them into the ground, then began to build up energy again. Rei snaked a hand into his waist satchel and fished out a few balms and began chucking them at its back. One hit, then another, and another. They weren’t doing anything! As they hit, the divine aura it exuded would immediately begin to dissolve them off itself, turning the offering balms into pinkish sparks that fell to the ground and disappeared, leaving nothing but the strong stench of vegetables. Rei continued to throw the balms in a blind panic as the thing charged his sister. He saw her roll away in the nick of time, a bit of her hair being chopped clean off in the process.

Kleavor could not stop his dash, however, and collided directly into the big tree in the center of the Arena. Rei seized this opportunity to throw a pokemon out and into the fray. Any way he could avoid dying, the better. To his surprise, this seemed to pull Kleavor’s attention off him or his sister and instead onto Campfire. Rei’s partner cried out in defiance.

“GRASHAAAAA!” Kleavor immediately shot off a devastating Stealth Rock. Rei’s heart nearly stopped as Campfire fainted instantly. This was going to be more difficult than he thought. He threw in Spark Plug. It managed to shoot off a Thundershock, but that did next to nothing. Kleavor shrugged it right off and cut down the Luxio with an AIr Slash. The last thing Rei had was his little Eevee.

“Baby-Doll Eyes!” The Eevee hit the move and even managed to take the bone-curdling Stealth Rock that Kleavor hit it with. “Quick Attack!” It was not near enough, Kleavor didn’t even seem winded as he took out the last of Rei’s small team. He could feel the panic rising up in himself as Kleavor raised its axes, mere paces away from Rei.

Sparks flew from its back as Akari hit it over and over again with balms. Her face was scrunched up in concentration, a red line oozing liquid onto her face. Was she hurt?! The Noble turned once again to his sister. He raised his axes again and in a single fluid motion swung out several times, cutting out at anything in its path. She rolled out of the way, smacking into the thick tree in the middle with a dull thud. Rei took this opportunity to throw some balms of his own. Was it just him, or was Kleavor looking more sluggish? He threw with a renewed vigor, hoping beyond hope that he wasn’t seeing things as Kleavor swung its attention back to him. It narrowed its eyes as it readied another attack aimed at him. It dashed forward again and he barely managed to dodge in time. He was also growing tired. How long was this going to last?

Rei could hear balms hitting above him. He peeled himself off the floor with a grunt to see Kleavor locking onto his sister, still trying to get up. He dashed to the basket by the entrance to the Arena to snag an armful of balms and immediately began throwing more at the enraged pokemon. Kleavor roared in frustration as Akari again rolled away from him. There was a small amount of dark liquid on the ground where she had been just moments ago. Rei began to smack him with more balms. He was definitely growing tired, Rei could tell. “Akari! Battle him!”

Rei dodged an attack from Kleavor - another dash. This one ended up in Kleavor once again hitting a wall and becoming disoriented. This time, Akari tossed out a pokemon for battle. Rei did not watch the battle, but instead threw balms at Kleavor as much as he possibly could during it, knowing he was temporarily ‘safe’. Balm after balm burst apart on Kleavor and sizzled away into dust and Rei prayed to Arceus that it was actually growing weaker and weaker and weaker…

Rei noticed Bonnie going down. Akari tossed out Riptide. Rei shook his head and kept throwing the balms. He needed to keep throwing balms. His elbow ached, beginning to scream with each throw. He needed to keep throwing balms. Rocks slung from the dirt ripped directly into Riptide, making it scream. He needed to keep throwing balms. Akari cried out an order, holding her shoulder awkwardly. He needed to keep throwing balms. He was running out of balms. He needed to-

A huge Water Pulse hit at the same time as Rei’s last balm. A huge shockwave hit Rei, sending him crashing back into the dirt as pure golden light flooded his eyeballs. He threw up a hand to shield himself as a harsh wind picked up and the gold surged up into the sky. Was it finally over? He couldn’t keep back a slight smile.

Left before them, wobbling a bit, was a dark brown and black pokemon. Its axes were varying shades of gray. It had thick rocky eyebrows and springy ankles and a segmented body seemingly made of stone. It held itself up on its axes as Rei rounded it, running towards his sister. She stood as Kleavor approached them slowly. Its eyes were a dark chocolatey color now. It smacked the side of the tree with its ax, much more feebly than before, this time causing something to fall from the tree’s high branches. Rei picked it up. It was another colored brick like the one Wyrdeer had given them, this one a light green.

Kleavor huffed at them one more time - assumingly in thanks - and then ran off as quickly as it had arrived, its ax arms trailing behind it. Rei hadn’t even had the chance to say anything. It fell silent in the Arena. No pokemon chirped or buzzed or barked nearby - seemingly startled away by that battle.

“What just happened?” Lian asked as he ran up to them. “What was that light that erupted from Kleavor’s body? Has his frenzy been truly put at ease now?”

“Does this confirm that the strange lightning was to blame for Kleavor’s unnatural power?” Irida glanced between the twins.

Rei shrugged. All these questions were making him overwhelmed as the adrenaline began to wear off. “Maybe. I’m really not sure.” He brushed off his bottom where he had fallen.

“All we know is that the lightning came from the rift the other night. The bolts must have struck Kleavor and driven him into the frenzy after all.” Irida’s eyebrows drew together in the dying light, making her blue irises stand out even more in concern.

“Wait,” Lian said, “If the lightning came from the space-time rift, and almighty Sinnoh lives there then the strange lightning… was it Sinnoh’s power? Were we even right to interfere?” His voice was raising, sounding angrier and angrier by the second. “I went along with the plan happily like a fool!”

“Calm yourself, Lian,” Irida soothed the boy. Akari was already rubbing at a spot on her arm, Rei noticed. She definitely had a cut on her cheek, which was still bleeding. It was also now coated with a fine layer of dirt and forest rot. He’d need to make sure she saw the med bay when they got back home. “Kleavor has protected our people and the forest for generations. Would our almighty Sinnoh truly send him a power that attacks people and pokemon indiscriminately? I doubt it. What Rei and Akari accomplished just now… it needed to be done.” Lian fell silent and suddenly found his shoes to be quite interesting. “I’m glad this is settled without any further strife. If any other pokemon find themselves in the grip of a frenzy… please help them.” Irida flicked her irises between the twins, assessing them. Her gaze lingered on Akari’s shoulder as she cradled it.

Daytime was giving way to dusk. The trees around them were filled with a duller golden light than the stuff from Kleavor. Lian grumbled. “Fine. I suppose I must concur. I apologize for being briefly incomposed. I am grateful to you both for helping my Lord.”

“Allow me to heal your beloved pokemon as thanks.” Irida stepped forward, a relieved smile on her face once again.

—-----------------------

Emmet rubbed his eyes as he stared at his device, occasionally glancing over at his brother. Ingo was still stone-faced, as ever, staring intently at the worn pages of the thirtieth book of the day sprawled out in front of him. He hoped that their company would just arrive soon. They were supposed to be here-

A loud knock sounded at the door. Ingo did not even flinch or pause in his reading as Emmet swiftly stood to get the door. It was still hot outside, summer in full force, even now that evening was settling in. Drayden stood alone at the door, much to Emmet’s surprise. “Where’s Iris? I thought she was coming too?”

“She got held up. Another challenger at the League.” Drayden stepped over the threshold and removed his boots at Emmet’s gesture inside, moving his bulky form into the dining room. The large man paused and sighed softly seeing his nephew buried in a pile of old literature. “Ingo?” Emmet noted his brother did not move. No reaction at all came from him.

“Ingo, hey. We have company.” Nothing, again. Emmet strode over to his brother and tapped his shoulder, making him jump so hard he nearly knocked himself over.

“Wh-what? What’s happening? Drayden? When did you get here?” His eyes darted around between the two of them, in complete shock at being disturbed.

Drayden stayed silent for a few moments. “We need to talk, Ingo.”

“Wh- about what?” Ingo continued to watch with wild eyes as Drayden and Emmet each took a seat on either side of him.

“You.” Their uncle folded his hands, setting them down on the table. “We need to talk about you.”

“What about me?” Ingo snapped. “I’m just fine. Fine as I can be.”

“See, that makes me think you are extremely not fine,” Emmet quipped. “You haven’t slept in days. You won’t eat. You also won’t talk anymore at all. It’s like sharing a house with a statue.”

“I’ll be fine, as soon as I bring the kids home.”

“Ingo,” Drayden spoke loudly, pulling both of their attention to him. “There is no ‘I’. There is no ‘just me’, ‘alone’, or ‘by myself’. There is an ‘us’. You are not the only one in this.”

“But-”

“You are not alone,” Drayden spoke much more loudly, snapping his yellow eyes directly in Ingo’s direction in a way he hadn’t since they’d misbehaved gravely when they were small. Ingo actually shrunk in his chair under the gaze. “Now, I have some requests. You will take care of yourself, at least somewhat. Eat something, even something small, at least twice or even three times a day. You will shower regularly. You will leave the house sometimes. I’m not asking much, just a few times a week. And you will at least lay down to try to sleep, even if you don’t fully get there. Am I clear?”

“But I need to find them,” Ingo argued. He had found his voice and he fired back at Drayden. “I need to make sure they’re safe. No one else is even looking for them anymore!” Ingo stood from his chair and pointed a finger at Drayden. “I have not seen anyone else still researching or checking around. So who is this ‘we’?”

Drayden slowly stood. Emmet’s eyes widened. “Uncle Drayden, he’s not-” Emmet was cut off by a large hand held up in his direction. He pulled out his phone, tapping the screen, and showing it to Ingo.

“Not looking, huh?” Ingo scanned the screen, his eyes losing their fire. Emmet glanced at the screen.

A wall of texts in a group chat met his gaze. Drayden scrolled his thumb up slowly, allowing them to read some of the texts. The chat was labeled ‘Elite Members’. At least fifty people had to be included in it for how many different names and numbers and profile pictures Emmet was seeing. At regular intervals, it seemed almost daily, one of the numbers would text Drayden a picture of a child with light hair asking if that might be them. Many news articles and headlines were sprinkled through the chat.

“This is the Champions, Elite Four members, and even Gym Leaders in almost every single region in the world, in one large chat. Iris helped assemble it for me. Any time they see anyone that might even potentially be related to the twins, they ask me immediately. I even flew out once or twice to see for myself without getting your hopes up. This has existed since the first week that I found out about them going missing. Not only am I and Elesa and Emmet and even Iris taking time to scour everything and try to find anything about their whereabouts, we have every single master battler on the face of the planet also on the lookout. And you are the only one looking? It’s just you on your own little personal crusade?”

Ingo stared at the spot the phone was in, even as Drayden took the device away and pocketed it. His expression softened considerably as Ingo floundered, looking for something to say. He laid two large hands on his nephew’s shoulders, garnering his attention. “Listen. All I want is to see you functional. I understand being worried sick. I understand that it feels pointless and worthless and like it is counterintuitive. I don’t expect you to be back to normal. I just want to know that you won’t collapse at any given moment. If you carry on like this, you might need to be hospitalized.”

That made Ingo blink a couple times. “I. What?”

“Trust me, you don’t want that,” Emmet said solemnly. He shook his head. “Not fun. Awful time.”

“Emmet?” Ingo knit his brow at his brother. “What are you saying?”

“Did I not tell you about that?” Emmet asked genuinely, cocking his head at Ingo. Surely he’d mentioned that at some point?

“No?” Ingo sat back down, prompting Drayden to do the same. “What happened?”

“I kept telling everyone I was fine but refused any type of fuel for months. It wasn’t until I fainted at work that they realized how bad off I actually was and I was hospitalized for a few days. They kept watch on me until I proved I could function again.” Emmet mirrored his brother’s perplexed expression. “I really feel like I’ve mentioned this before now.”

“Not to my knowledge.” Ingo stared at the table. “I… I had no… I’m so-”

“Hush, Ingo,” Drayden spoke softly, cutting him off. “No apologies. If you feel guilty, show me by eating something. Even just a little snack, but preferably a meal. It is getting close to dinnertime.”

Ingo sighed. After a few moments, he nodded. He placed a scrap receipt in the book he was reading and closed it, marking his spot for later. “Let’s,” was all he said, his voice small.

Emmet hated seeing his brother like this. So unsure, so small, almost feeble. Ingo was not supposed to be feeble. Ingo was supposed to be confident and loud and outgoing and boisterous. But right now, he was none of those things.

Emmet wanted his brother back.

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#submas #subway boss ingo #subway bosses #pokemon legends arceus #my writing #ingo #pokemon #dad!ingo #subway boss emmet #gym leader elesa #pokemon akari #pokemon rei

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feverinfeveroutfic · 1 month ago

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Tijuana sunrise | kinktober 2024 | day x.: “tierra del fuego”

pairing: chuck billy x alex skolnick x oc

prompt: aquaphilia

word count: 4125

song: “floods” by pantera

Whenever I looked up to the trees on the slopes over the lake, I thought back to that one fire out there. I had come so close to being enswathed in the flames, the dance of the inferno with the towering pines at the helm, the scorched earth that surrounded me. I had made it out in one piece by some sort of grace that I never thought had existed before.

I made it out with nothing but the clothes on my back, my dog, and my cat. I had nothing but the two of them.

It looked like the end of the world. It looked like a pair of demon eyes staring back at me through the darkness as I clutched onto two balls of fur.

And it was the fear of being consumed that set me back from what I had felt from before. There was just something about being in those waters, in those icy blue waters that always made me feel as though I had escaped into the depths, into the realm of merfolk. Maybe I was actually born in the water, and I had the violet hair to show it as well.

However, it would be a full year before I could make a return to the lake and its rich, royal blue waters and the cinders that surrounded the perimeter, like I had come back to an old friend who had come out from the ashes as a brand-new kind of snake to shimmer even more under the soft, warm sunlight. The mountains around the lake’s edge were that deep blue, almost violet color. The trees whispered with the springtime winds.

My new place was nestled back in the trees down by the southern shore, whereby my animals and I could walk down by the water’s edge. The kiss of the fire stayed with me even with rain and snow over our heads. The rank odor of smoke still haunted the area.

I never wanted to lose my softness, the softness of water. The feeling that I could please and sense that same feeling within me.

The fire took almost everything from me, and it almost took me from me. I came so close.

On this particular day, the memory was strong in mind: I looked on at the vast burn scar against the trees as I made my way into town for some coffee and cat food. The earth still scorched and the trees still trying to climb back to their previous heights from before the inferno. I needed to find a way to exorcise the memory from the back of my mind, the way that it haunted me like a demon and persisted whenever I closed my eyes.

I rode my bike up to the front door of the pet store on the corner, whereby I was met with the whistle of the birds and the fish swirling about in the tanks. The beauty of the angelfish, the barbs, and the neon tetras made me think of the softness of water. To lay down in the water and wash away the scars and the tears of having lost everything.

With cans of shredded cat food and the dried kibbles in a little bag, I stepped back outside to the warmth of the afternoon sunshine when I spotted him right across the street down by the water.

He sat perched upon the edge of the pier with his legs and bare feet dangled down towards the blue waters. He peered over his shoulder at me, and he watched me with utmost intent. It wasn’t as if he leered at me: he looked like a young boy peeking at the cute girl of the neighborhood through the trees. Part of his hair covered his face and shoulders to make him look as though he was hiding. One hand on his upper arm, right near his shoulder.

Shy and boyish, and yet something about him stuck out to me. I had the cans of cat food in the bag, and I could fetch the coffee after I walked on over to him. I took a glimpse up and down the road prior to crossing, and I padded on across the pavement to meet up with him. He showed me more of a smile, and he shifted in his spot for a better look back at me.

His eyes seemed to glow as I came on closer to him and the pier.

“I couldn’t help but see you watching me,” I told him as part of my greeting to him.

“I was just looking at your cat food,” he replied in a warm, tender voice. “Like your cat’s going to be happy seeing those cans when you get home.”

“Oh, yes, he will be quite pleased,” I assured him, and I noticed his feet down in the water below the aged wood of the pier. “And I assume you’re enjoying yourself?” I asked him.

“Oh, you know it,” he told me with a cute, crooked little smile. “My friend went up to Zephyr Cove to get us something to eat, so—you know—” He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m just relishing all of… this here.”

“The water, the wind, the feeling of being out in nature,” I followed along. I stood right next to him, and I caught a whiff of the soft cologne on his neck and shoulders. His lips were full and smooth, and he had a little crooked shape to the bridge of his nose. His eyes were deep and soulful, and yet when he raised his dark eyebrows even ever so slightly, his entire face lit up.

“We like coming up here when it seems like the Bay Area is getting too hectic,” he explained. “A good little escape when it feels like we’re getting choked down there.”

“Now you know why I love living up here,” I pointed out to him.

“Oh, you are so lucky,” he declared with a shake of his head. “I think of coming up here and hiding out for a bit, just to see if I can do it. You know, do the whole lakeside survival thing for a few days, just to see if I can do it.”

“With your little body, I can see it happening,” I told him. “You look very sinewy and strong.”

“Surviving is in my blood, too,” he assured me with a wink, and then he extended a hand to me. “I’m Alex,” he introduced himself.

“Portia,” I followed up: those long, spindly fingers curled around the back of my hand, but his palm was soft and silken.

“The dynamic Portia,” he quipped. “Hailing from here at Lake Tahoe.”

“I’m actually from Carson City,” I explained as he let go of my hand. “But I moved up here a few years back to get away from the heat.”

“I heard there was a big fire up here last year,” he recalled.

“Yeah, right over here—” I gestured to the ridges right behind us, and he glanced back there. “I just barely made it out with my dog, my cat, and what clothes I had at the time. My house burned down, and all my neighbors got out of here and didn’t come back.”

“Wow,” he remarked.

“I came back here just last month,” I continued. “Found a new apartment right back here, and I’ve… just been trying to get my life back together.”

“I would imagine!” he declared. “In fact, when I look at you, I can kind of see the pain in your eyes. There’s… what I would call a ‘blues’ to you. I know that because I have that. This feeling of a soul against the world trying to kill you.”

“Interesting,” I remarked, and he splashed his feet a bit in the blue water beneath us. “We should go for a swim together,” I suggested to him.

He turned his attention to me with a thoughtful look on his face, and his hair twirled in the wind. He leaned back on his hands and spread out his legs on the aged wooden pier. The hem of his shirt rose up over his belt and the waistband of his jeans, which in turn showed off the thin stripe of skin on his waist.

“We should?” He showed me a playful little smirk.

“Yes. You and me.”

A little white truck with a camper shell rolled up behind us.

“And Chuck,” he added, and Alex lifted his feet out of the blue water, and he stood up next to me on the pier. He towered over me, this long and lanky boy with long lush black curls and a small tuft of light hair on one side of his brow. He was gorgeous and lanky, and his friend, this even taller burly boy with dark skin, bright eyes that seemed to sparkle back at me like the lake waters, and long wavy hair the color of molasses, greeted me with a soft, quaint smile.

“This is Portia,” Alex introduced me. “She has a cat, and that’s why she’s over here talking to me.”

“Darling Portia,” Chuck remarked in a voice that sounded as smooth and placid as the lake waters behind us.

“She also wants to go swimming with us, too,” Alex added.

“I’ve been wanting to swim around up here the last few weeks,” Chuck confessed. “Maybe you could show us around here come tomorrow?”

“I’d love to,” I said as I brought the bag of cat food before me. Another light breeze wafted up behind us which in turn made their hair twirl about behind their heads and shoulders. “I’m not really doing anything tomorrow, so I would love to be around you two guys for a day.”

“In the meantime, you take care of that kitty cat,” Chuck told me.

“Your dog, too,” Alex added with a glimpse over his shoulder back to him. “She’s got a dog, as well.” He returned to me. “What’d you say their names were?”

“Didn’t. My cat’s name is Freddie and my dog is Belle. Freddie’s an orange tabby and Belle’s one of those Bedlington terriers.”

“Forever and always.” Chuck patted his chest, and then he took my hand and kissed the back. He then gestured for Alex to follow him back to the truck parked behind us, whereby the latter flashed me a wink and a puckering of his lips at me.

I loved how soft-spoken those two were, and I had hope that our day at the water tomorrow would be something good, not just for them but for me as well.

I kept my eye on the lake waters out there, even as the veil of high clouds came in with the setting sun and painted the sky with spots of pink along with the veil of orange and violet. I wondered as to how we could do this, and most of all, how I could go about with it, in telling them that I needed this swim rather than take it in the name of leisure.

That next morning, after I had fed Freddie and Belle and took her for a morning walk, I put on my black and silver bikini underneath my clothes; it was my first time wearing it, and thus, I wanted to surprise them. I took her with me down to the water’s edge. It was a clear, warm day, one filled with radiant sunshine and not a wisp of a cloud in the sky. The truck had already parked down by the pet store, down by the pier, whereby I spotted Chuck already down inside the water, up to his ankles in that icy cold blue water, and yet he seemed to be enjoying it.

He nodded over at me and flashed me a wave. Belle then spotted him, to which she raised up her ears and began wagging her wiry little tail at him.

“Aw, do you see Chuck?” I asked her. Indeed, his face lit up when he spotted her, and he pointed her out to Alex, who was just beginning to climb out of the front seat of the truck wearing nothing more than a little white silk shirt. His hair seemed to twirl even without that much of a breeze around us.

“There she is,” he declared once we came within earshot of them. “And she’s brought her friend!” Belle’s tail seemed to fly at the sight of Alex, and even more so when he held his hand out for her to sniff. He scratched the soft curly fur right behind her ears, which only made her come on closer to him.

“Well, well, well, look who made a new friend,” Chuck declared as he tied his hair back behind his head in a loose ponytail.

“I assume she likes men,” Alex said with a straight face.

“Actually, no,” I said with a chuckle. “During the fire, she often barked at the firefighters and the cops escorting us out of here.”

“So I should consider myself pretty special!”

Alex showed me a little smile as he gave Belle a few more scratches behind the ears, and then he peeled off his shirt and showed me his bare body; he wore these soft-looking little black shorts that looked to be made of silk, while his body was slim and almost delicate. His skin had this slight olive tone to it, like he had been hanging out in the sun for some time before then, while his hair was as dark as night.

The sun shone down on him to the point his skin seemed to shimmer. The olive undertone to his skin, the darkness of his hair: he looked as old as time itself, much like the blue waters before us.

I coaxed Belle back so he could find his way to the water, and also so I could take off my clothes and share my bikini with them. But he stood at the edge of the pier and watched me with a slight squint to his eyes.

“Hold still, babe. Hold still.” She sat down on the ground and held out her velvety little pink tongue. Quickly, I kicked off my shoes, and I took off my top and my shorts. He raised his eyebrows at the silver lining on my bikini top, more so as the flat, smooth ends of my purple hair cascaded down onto the cups and the straps. Chuck turned around to see me as well.

“I feel like we just went back to the Seventies, Alex,” he remarked.

“The Seventies or the Sixties in England,” Alex followed up.

I then closed the truck door behind me, and I picked up Belle’s leash from the ground, and we walked barefoot over to Alex there at the end of the pier.

“How’s the water?” I asked Chuck.

“Quite chilly,” he said, and right as the words left his lips, Belle leapt right in next to him. We raised our arms up as she made the biggest splash into the shallow waters; indeed, the water was cold, but I knew we could take it. She lifted her head from the water, and she showed us her tongue.

“Oh, she’s happy,” Chuck told us, and without another moment’s hesitation, Alex and I took our spots on the edge of the pier with our feet in first.

“Phew, yeah, that’s cold,” he noted.

I flashed back on the fire, at those angry flames reflecting on the cold water below the rim, and somehow I managed to picture the four of us escaping the threat of being consumed alive by swimming through the lake.

I slid into the water first, and he followed suit right behind me.

The water was quite shallow, and thus, I led them out away from the smooth stones by the base of the pier.

I led them out to about twelve feet away from the shore, when I could feel the water rise up over my waist. A wave of dread then swept over me. The fire took everything from me, but the water could as well.

I turned my attention back to Alex, right as he dunked his head underwater for a few seconds. He returned to the surface with his bangs matted down onto his forehead and the tops of his eyebrows.

To escape the fire. To escape the flames and smoke behind us and begin a brand-new life. He did say he wanted to try out on surviving up there alone, after all. I glanced down to see the dark ground of smooth rocks right below our feet, and I knew the depths were perfect at that point. He sank down into the water again so his wet hair made a dove of sorts around his head and shoulders. I joined him in that as well.

“I feel like a sea creature out here,” he confessed.

“A sea creature, like a merman?”

“A merman, yeah!”

“When the fire was raging, I would dream of dipping down into the water and just letting my troubles fall away,” I told him. “Water washes away everything and makes it new again.”

“Fire’s a good cleanser, too,” he pointed out. “But water is much more calm.”

I thought about what he said about having the blues, and I wondered if he could use a bit of cleansing himself.

“I want you to lay flat on your back,” I advised him in a hollow voice, “and close your eyes. Hold your breath as long as you can. We’re gonna do this like a baptism because you and I both have demons inside of us, so let’s do this together.”

Alex then leaned back onto the water next to me. He lay down in the water with his back, right above the smooth rocks. I swam up right next to him.

His belly was soft and slightly rounded. He was soft, as soft as the water all around us. I put my arms around him and the water kissed the sides of my arms. I leaned my head against his deep chest, and I held my breath. He and I took the plunge into the blue water together.

It rushed into our ears. I could feel his fingers linking up with my own.

I could feel the fear even with a few inches of water between us. It almost felt as though we were drifting in the ocean, drifting into the abyss.

I couldn’t breathe. But I had a boy next to me, and he was holding my hand.

He squeezed my hand with those long and lanky fingers. I moved in closer to him to feel his body, the last thing I could feel before I drowned.

Alex then jerked his head up to the top of the water. I followed suit right next to him. Breathing hard, he bowed his head over the surface, and I joined in next to him.

Water dripped down the sides of his arms, down to his wrists and the surface of the water. Thin dark curls of black hair clung to his bare back, neck, and shoulders. He turned to me, through the thicket of wet hair spread over his face.

“How do you feel?” he asked me in a broken voice.

Before I could answer, I could hear splashing behind me. We turned to find Chuck right behind us with his hair matted to his head already.

“What’re we doing out here?” he asked us.

“Healing,” I replied. “We’re submerging ourselves and seeing how long we can hold it under the water.”

“Hold still,” Alex added in a broken voice. “Hold your breath.”

“I think I’ll join you guys,” Chuck told us, and he huddled closer to me. I turned to Alex. I couldn’t explain it but I could feel the rush between us. The threat of drowning ourselves. The feeling that I never could find during the fire. I was doing it with him at my side.

“Hold me close,” I whispered to him, and I ran my hands down the small of his back towards his ass. He let out a low whistle at the feeling, to which he raised his eyebrows at me.

“I want you to touch my nipples just right before I’m under the water,” I told him right into his ear. “Come up behind me and put your hands on my breasts and then finger me there.” I turned around to face Chuck, but I sank down in the water so he wouldn’t see us.

“Lay down flat on your back and close your eyes,” I told him. “Hold your breath as long as you absolutely possibly can.”

Chuck then nodded at me and held his breath, and he submerged his head under the water. Right as he did, Alex did what I told him to do: his long fingers caressed over my nipples, which I didn’t realize had risen into tight points inside of the bikini cups.

“Like that?” he whispered to me.

“Exactly like that,” I whispered back to him, and we dipped down into the water again.

My eyes closed. The water enclosed me like a tomb.

But I could feel Alex’s body behind me. Chuck’s body right up next to me.

If I was going to die, I would die with two boys on either side of me.

It felt like my lungs were about to explode when I darted on up to the water’s surface. Coughing, I looked back at Alex as he tilted his head back and took in the deepest breath.

The water dripped down the side of his face and down his nose. His hair stayed plastered to his face and neck like streams of kelp. He actually looked like a merman, with his soft skin and soaked dark hair matted to his skin.

“Fire…” he breathed out.

I lingered close to him, my arms around his body and my hands on his hip. I swore we could not have done that anywhere else. I had to do that in the lake waters, right near the burn scar.

“Land of fire,” he breathed into my ear.

Chuck surfaced from the waters behind us, complete with his long hair fanned out on either side of his head like leaves of kelp coming in on the ocean. He looked like the statue of an Indian right at the entrance of a reservation.

Belle barked at us from the shore, and all the while, her tail furiously flailed about.

“Better go see what she wants,” Chuck told me in a low voice. I glanced back to see her there on the rocks, soaking wet and still with the leash around her neck, and so Alex and I made our way back towards the shore to fetch her.

We spent most of the morning out in the water, but we never made a deep plunge like that again. And I offered them back to my place for some coffee and tea biscuits.

I would always want to be around the softness of water, even if it was as cold as ice even when the weather was warm.

Alex took his spot on my couch with a towel underneath him and the silk shirt around his body like a wide-open tapestry. While I was preparing the coffee, I noticed Belle seated before him and Freddie climbing up onto the couch arm right next to him, both of which took place much to Chuck’s amusement as he made his way down to the bathroom. I placed a plate of biscuits on the table next to him, even if he had his hands full.

“You wanna plunge again tomorrow?” he offered me as Freddie curled up next to him there on the couch, even with the wet towel poking out underneath him and even with Belle insisting on pets from him.

“If you wanna,” I told him with a shrug of my shoulders. “As long as it means you get to touch me again. When do you guys go back over to the Bay Area?”

“In a couple of days,” he replied.

“Well, then, it’s settled,” I assured him with a tap on the tip of his nose with my fingertip. “I like doing it with you guys because I know I’m not alone in this.”

“And no one is,” he assured me as he scratched Belle’s ears with both hands. “Especially not when you have friends with you, anyway.” He flashed me a wink, and a little smile, and it was right then I had a good feeling about these two boys, the first time I had a good feeling since before the fire happened.

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celestiall0tus · 11 months ago

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Court of Miracles - Chapter 1 - Nightmare

A freezing gust blew by Juleka. She shuddered as it chilled her through her heavy winter gear. She shook off the chill with a deep sigh. A smile tugged at her lips seeing her puff of breath. It was a novelty she should be used to, but it always got to her. That deep down, it was something she shouldn’t be allowed to experience. The same went for the wonderland around her.

Juleka walked the cleared paths on campus. She glanced around at the pristine emptiness. The students had all returned home for holiday save for the ones like her that waited until the last minute. It made her nervous at the thought of returning home, even if it was for a couple of weeks.

Juleka stopped and stared up at the leafless trees overhead. She didn’t want to return home. She didn’t want to endure the ridicule and indifference she always had from them. To see the harsh, bizarre disappointment in her mother’s eyes and the distance in her twin’s eyes. A knife cut her deep at the thought of Luka, her twin. They had been close once, but one day, that changed. Whenever she tried to reach out, he always pulled away and she never knew why. She wished she did but knew it didn’t matter.

Juleka let out another deep breath. The puff of air made her smile and forget her family, even if for a moment. She continued her walk until a strong gale knocked into her. She gasped at the extreme cold that sunk deep to her bones. She hurried back to her dorm as the wind refused to relent. She made it to her room just as snow dumped from the sky.

Juleka moved to remove her winter gear, but stopped at the immense chill that overcame her. She put it back together, gathered every blanket she could find, and curled up. She stared out the window and watched the snow fall. She loved the cold, but lately it didn’t like her. She couldn’t enjoy the same walks she used to without feeling frostbitten through her gear. She silently cursed the snow and cold as she warmed up.

Juleka dozed on and off while she regained some warmth. She moved out of her blanket pile once the initial chill had left her body. She cleaned up her mess before she stopped and stared at her suitcase. She sighed and considered. She had a few days still before she had to leave. She could wait a little longer, right? There was no harm in waiting until the day of. She didn’t have much to pack anyway. Not like she had anything valuable except her clothes. Even that wasn’t much for the bargain bin, thrift store collection she had.

Juleka’s stomach growled. She groaned and looked between the door and window. She could head out for dinner, but the storm had become a full blizzard with white-out conditions. She groaned and searched her dorm. She found her dormmates stash of hidden snacks for late-night study sessions. She grabbed a few granola bars and watched the blizzard before she turned on the TV.

Juleka mindlessly flipped through the channels. She stopped on a news channel when her phone buzzed. She checked the caller ID and sneered when she saw it was her mother. She declined the call, turned off her phone, and chucked it into the trash. She’d fish it out in the morning. She grabbed the remote to continue when the newscast caught her attention.

Juleka listened to the news. There were whispers of war between several nations that could escalate into a potential World War III. Terror consumed her at the notion. She didn’t like the idea of war, never had. It was a selfish act that destroyed everything. People, places, the environment, everything. As she’s always heard the warmongers say: “all’s fair in love and war.” The notion made her want to vomit. How could all be fair? How could one justify the countless lives lost? The utter destruction of life and the unnecessary, early deaths. How was any of it fair?

Juleka prepared to click off the channel when the feed changed. It showed a pair of handsome men with fair skin, blonde slicked back hair, and matching black suits. She froze in place as utter disgust and fury consumed her. The news continued, but all words fell on deaf ears as she glared at the men. Her mind empty except for the thought of what vile, repulsive creatures those were.

Juleka snapped out of her episode as the news feed changed again. She shut off the TV and chucked the remote into the trash with her phone. She grabbed several blankets and curled up near the window. She put on some instrumental music as she watched the storm. She let out a sigh and fell asleep.

Juleka stood in a vast empty, snowy wonderland. She strolled in the untouched fields of snow as her footprints disappeared behind her. The cold blew around and embraced her, but she didn’t feel it. She smiled and let out a sigh, but there was no puff. Tears stung her eyes as her body became heavy. She fought to stand but crumbled under the weight of herself. She plummeted.

Juleka crashed through the snow and fell through a black void. She slammed into the dark ground. She shook herself off as a warm glow lit up in the distance. She staggered to her feet and stumbled through the dark, but green forest that surrounded her. Her strength returned as she sprinted through the forest to the glow. She stopped dead at the sight before her.

Juleka’s jaw dropped at the utter destruction. Trees burned to charred twigs, buildings obliterated, burnt corpses that wasted away to ash in the wind, and the night sky filled with horrific smoke and ash clouds. She screamed and threw herself into the blaze. She desperately searched for survivors as she witnessed the life essence evaporate all around her. She choked, not on the smoke, but her own despair and fear.

Footsteps crunched the charred debris behind Juleka. She turned to face a shadowy man. Rage and repulsion tore through her as she attacked the man. She hissed every insult and slight until the man grabbed her throat. She clawed at his hand as her hands turned black and crumbled to ash. She screamed as she was consumed and reduced to ash.

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #au #miraculous au #alternate universe #mlb fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #juleka miraculous #juleka #mlb juleka #miraculous juleka #juleka couffaine #court of miracles au

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dyrewrites · 10 months ago

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Pale Blood - more flirty tender moment because i said so

Lost to the floor with the rest of his clothes, his coat vibrated and flashed with glaring red as his netlink did its best to escape. Fishing it out—struggling not to chuck it under the bed—he held the pin-sized device to his ear, voice sharp with stolen bliss, “Someone better be dead.”

“There’s a wolf at my door,” Bosch sneered from the other end of the line, tinge of fear unnoticed in his tone—regardless of how thickly it spread.

Delmas tried for snark, tried to hold the irritation in his tone, but Den grabbed his shoulders and what came out did so through a gasp and subdued giggle, “You’re a big boy, boss, I’m sure you can handle one wolf all by yourself.”

“Can you,” Den whispered into his unoccupied ear, drawing another gasp.

A gasp bitten, unheard despite the greater venom in Bosch’s tone that slithered after, “He’s here for you.”

“Tell him I’m busy,” Delmas moaned as Den’s tongue teased his ear.

And Bosch heard, growling before he screeched, “Busy my ass, you overgrown slut!”

Den fell back, hands tight to his ears, while Delmas winced and held the netlink at arm’s length, “Fuck, Bosch, was your mother a banshee?”

Bosch snapped, “I don’t care how tight your whore’s ass is, you get yours down here before the light starts fadin’ or my patience will!”

Delmas did not wait for the line to die before he stuffed the source back into his coat, but he stared at it after, thinking, must be some wolf if they got him squealin’. But as that thought faded another flickered to replace it, one that almost offered clarity, explanation...until Den returned to his shoulders—melting any possibility of thought with kisses far too sweet.

“Your boss’ got a mouth on him,” He said, firm hands massaging up the sides of Delmas’ neck before moving down along his collar bone and teasing the thin hairs on his chest.

“Mm-hmm,” Delmas agreed, grabbing Den’s hands as they wandered lower. “But he’s got a temper to match and will send his thralls after my ass if I don’t do what it says.”

Den draped his arms over him and pouted, “But I want your ass.”

The laugh coughed before Delmas could stop it and the smile Den flashed after settled it into a chuckle, “Here.” Pulling free of his arms, Delmas dug again in his pocket and swiped a thumb along his netlink. The sliver of silver shining in Den’s earlobe blinked—green, then gold—and Delmas returned to his waiting arms, “now you can have my ass whenever you want it.”

“Giving your link out to someone you just met,” Den teased, “Seems risky.”

Grabbing one of the hands tickling his chest, Delmas kissed it before answering, “You’re worth it.”

Though he couldn’t stop the shock from widening his eyes, Den buried his face in Delmas’ neck before the burn in his cheeks started to show.

But he didn’t let him go.

#writeblr #snippet #novel #writing #urban fantasy #pale blood #i don't think there's anything worth tagging #beyond suggestive phrasing #and what bosch says #but feel free to correct me #and oh boy does he say worse later #he is not a nice little man

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xxpobloxx · 1 year ago

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Chapter 0 - A Bit of Backstory

Middle School is quite the awkward year, you arent a kid anymore, but you are not an adult just yet. which brings us a group of kids, Billie Joe Armstrong, and his friends, Frank Edwin Wright III, and Michael Pritchard, though those two instead called themselves Tre Cool and Mike Dirnt. This trio of kids were troublemakers to say the least, often pulling pranks on teachers and school faculty. They found it odd that the school would be funded not by a board, but by a pharmaceutical company of all things, so they chose to no longer give a shit.

One day, hanging out in the lunchroom, a few hours before school normally starts, Tre comes in with a large box full of stuff.

"This dude I know, his name's Spencer, he brought me this, a whole music kit!" he said, revealing a drum kit, some microphones, a guitar, a bass, and few amps, "I call dibs on the drums!" Tre said, getting them set up, Billie choosing the guitar, and Mike choosing the bass. They plugged in, and noticed the amps were full of stickers of all sorts, all of which were strange and different, but all of them were green.

"I'm gonna sing too, fuck it." Billie said, setting up a mic stand for himself. The trio would soon play, it started off sounding a bit reckless, but soon, transformed into something of value.

They called it, Welcome To Paradise

Though as they rehearsed the song one more time, faculty members came in, apprehending the three. Billie remembers being taken home and not going to school that day, he cant recall the rest of the day, though he came back the next day, and before class, he would come see Tre.

"Hey, Tre! What's up?"

"Uhm... I don't know you? And my name isn't Tre."

Billie frowned as his friend had forgotten him, he went to find Mike, though he too had forgotten him.

Billie would never see his once-friends again, and as he grew, he would unfortunately forget he had friends. As the medicine he had to take after the incident, unbeknownst to him at the time, would make him soon forget them too. Though years later, now older, would look out the window of his apartment, soon, he would see in the alleyway, a group of people in masks spray painting messages on walls, displaying messages about how Better Living Industries, the company who made Battery City, are controlling people, it made him realize, those pills he had to take since the incident were from BLI, and it made him think, he never really had a girlfriend before, and he was told he needed to prioritize that. But he didn't know if that was what he wanted.

But seeing this enlightened him, the message was clear, this life, in Battery City, was suppressing his full potential. He got a red t-shirt, a marker, wrote "FUCK YOU" on it, switched into it, ripped a jacket into a vest, put it on, put some tape on both for decorative purposes, and began his escape.

He didn't know where the exit to battery city was, so he went in with the masked people vandalizing the alleyway, one of them noticed he had no mask on.

"DUDE! PUT SOMETHING ON! THEY'LL FIND YOU!" she whisper-yelled, getting a helmet from her backpack and putting it over his head, she chucked, "Hehe, suits you well, I don't remember you, what do we call you again?"

"Uhhhh... Jim Dickman." Billie said, making the name up on the spot, before sighing, lifting the visor up, "Look, I saw your messages, so I came down and wanted to join you guys."

She smiled, "Hey, bud, y'know, I can set you guys up, I know a guy in the zones- er, the zones are sorta the outskirts of Battery City, anyway, so, I know a guy who can deck you up with a better look, you look like a fish learning target practice right now, they'll fix you up."

Once the group was ready to return to the zones, Billie went with them, the girl, calling herself Cassiette, brought him to a place where he would get a new outfit, to which he used a bit of what he got, and a bit of what he knows will shock any exterminators, this included wearing a skirt, leggings high enough to be presumed to be pants, and lots of funny penises, on his new ray gun, on his new mask, and as a patch on the back of his vest, once he was all ready, putting on some makeup just for fun. Billie Joe Armstrong was no more, now, he is Jim Dickman, and Cassiette loved him, she thought he looked super cute and sexy, so, she brought him into the restroom for some, private time together...

This would be a first, he was lead to believe he should be on the giving end of these kinds of things, but receiving it was way more fun, this would be a beginning for him. He would go on from there blasting Draculoids and flirting with fellow zone runners, he would not be able to be friends with Cassiette forever, as one time she was captured, and/or killed, he didn't want to figure out which. Despite this, Jim Dickman did meet some other friends in the zones, the Fab Four, the most well known, a mystery by the name of Psycho Beauty, and a trio of misfits named Fresh Salters, Jaxxy Jupiter, and Voxel Purple.

#green day #billie joe armstrong #my chemical romance #mcr #danger days #Spotify

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howtohero · 4 years ago

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#296 Return of the Starter-Villain

Hello How To Hero Heads! Today we’ve got some exciting news to share with you, we’ve finally hired a new supervillain correspondent: Everyone’s favorite lameo starter-villain, Smuggles. Say hello Smuggles. ||Hello Smuggles.|| Sheesh, this guy. I know, I know you must be shocked that I even allowed this to happen. Many of you will recall that I never signed off on, approved of, or got along with our last supervillain correspondent, Dr. Brainwave (don’t pretend you didn’t love Dr. Brainwave like a son, I seem to recall you being incredibly broken up when he died.) but that was because Dr. Brainwave was like, a credible threat who posed an actual danger to us and who once genetically engineered a giant monster that ate me. But Smuggles isn’t anything like that, he’s like the lowest of low-tier supervillains. ||It’s true, I was once hired to smuggle several objects into America, including a TSA uniform that was my exact size, and I never even once thought to put on the uniform to make the rest of the job easier.|| You may recall how in our original post on starter-villains we mentioned that he was on the rise ever since he teamed up with fellow low-level supervillains, Perry the Pirate and Charlie the Fish-Whisperer to hijack a canoe. But we’re both please and dismayed to say that our prediction was wrong. In the past three years, Smuggles has made absolutely nothing of himself. ||I once accidentally turned myself into a bowl of ice cream on a hot summer’s day.|| That starter-villain team didn’t even last past that first job, Charlie the Fish Whisperer went on, as you know, to become one of the most feared supervillains in the world and we all live in fear of the day Chuck the Fish Whisperer uses his awesome powers to escape the prison dimension the world’s heroes trapped him in. And Perry the Pirate became a lawyer I believe. But Smuggles, man, Smuggles. He’s no threat at all, so I was thrilled to see his application among the many we received following Dr. Brainwave’s untimely demise. So, welcome aboard Smuggles. ||Thanks! I’m excited to share my villainous insider knowledge with your read-|| Yeah yeah, that rocks man. So, anyway, in honor of our new staff member, we’re going to take a look at what happens when your starter-villain returns.

A starter-villain is, of course, the villain you fight on your first night out as a superhero. The costumed jaywalker whose swift defeat you use to springboard your career as a respected crime fighter. They will undoubtedly be the easiest villain to defeat that you come up against. As you become more experienced and proficient in superheroism, you’ll look back at your first fight fondly and laugh about all the ways the fight could have ended even quicker than it already did now that you’ve learned and grown a whole bunch. As time goes on and you fight more and more supervillains, eventually meeting your one true nemesis and a whole slew of other villains that you’ll tango with on a regular basis, you’ll even forget who your starter-villain even was. ||I’ve been a starter-villain to over 30 superheroes, and even though I send each of them a holiday card every year, I’ve only ever gotten one response.|| But, as Smuggles just demonstrated, your starter-villain will never forget you. And soon enough, once they’re ready, they’ll ensure that you never forget them again. ||The one response was from Hatman and he just sent a card saying “New phone, who dis?” Like, it was a postcard, a signed postcard. A signed personalized postcard. It said “Hatty Holidays!” and everything!||

It’s very possible that the starter-villain you defeated was also just starting out their costumed career. A crushing defeat on their first night is sure to sit with them, (supervillains being notoriously obsessive, dramatic, and good at remembering how they got their various scars), and they’re going to stew with that for a good while. Even if it wasn’t their first night of attempted-villainy, a defeat by a rookie superhero is sure to make them a laughing stock in the supervillain community. And you know what that means... ||Years of unanswered holiday cards||... revenge.

Your starter-villain will soon come to see you as their nemesis. Even though you’re perfectly happy with the eternal battle of good versus evil that you’ve already got going on with your actual nemesis. They aren’t going to care that you’re already seeing somebody (off to prison in handcuffs). They’re going to want you for their own. They’re going to spend every waking moment of their life plotting against you. Taking the time to really learn everything there is to know about you. This is just one more reason why it’s so important to to make sure your secret identity is ironclad before you start your superhero career. Because as soon as you defeat your first villain, there’s going to be someone out there working to uncover who you really are. ||Honestly, most superheroes don’t even bother trying to keep their secret identity from me. Many of them have just walked up to me and introduced themselves like “Hi, I’m Joe.” It’s kind of insulting.||

For that reason you’d do well to keep tabs on your starter-villain after you defeat them that first night. Their quest for revenge will start immediately and their scheme is just going to grow more and more protracted and elaborate the longer you let things lie. If you’ve already lost track of your starter-villain and it’s been a few years since you’ve been a superhero, I’d start shoring up your defenses. The longer you go without hearing from them, the worse it’s going to be when they eventually rear their ugly ||that’s just rude|| heads again. So put out some feelers, try to find out what they’re up to. If you can’t track them down through your superhero network of contacts, you can even try reaching out to your nemesis to see if they can help. Depending on how obsessive and vindictive your starter-villain is, your current nemesis might also find themselves in your starter-villain’s crosshairs. If you literally have no idea who your starter-villain is, sorry, you’re just going to have be on high alert all the time.

You may discover that your starter-villain has since turned over a new leaf and is actually now operating as a superhero or working with a superhero-adjacent organization such as the OPG. On the surface that makes sense, I mean, they were barely a supervillain to begin with. So the jump to superheroism is not as extreme as it would be for say Al “Da Boss” Marconi, or Karallaxus destroyer of worlds. But even though it might make sense for a starter-villain to have become a superhero, you must not believe it even for one second. Even if some part of a starter-villain truly wants to be better, you can be sure that an even bigger part of them actually just wants revenge on their starter-hero and joining the superhero community is just one of many increasingly inane steps in their protracted revenge scheme.

The only way to truly dissuade a returned starter-villain from dogging you forever and always is to either die or pretend you did. Otherwise they will track you down and hunt you to the ends of the known universe. ||And don’t forget the multiverse, Chuck the Fish Whisperer may be consigned to another universe, but that doesn’t mean his hatred has diminished one iota.|| Exactly! A starter-villain will stop at nothing until they’ve repaired their reputation in the form of destroying the person or people who tarnished it in the first place.

Defeating your first supervillain is an important milestone in the life of any superhero. Unfortunately, it is also an important milestone in the life of that very supervillain, whose life will become utterly subsumed by their embarrassing defeat at your inexperienced hands. Smuggles here is really the exception that proves the rule. ||Wait what?|| Normally, starter-villains become exponentially more dangerous by the time you next encounter them. So you must never underestimate a villain just because you beat them when you were a little kid wearing garish tights and you happened to be doing parkour near your convenience store right when it was being robbed. So why don’t you all take a moment now to check in on your starter-villain and make sure that you’re still able to beat them!

(All right, that’s a wrap on How To Hero #296. Great job everyone, we’ll see you next week.)

||Um.||

(Oh hey, Smugs. Good work today I guess. In the future we all prefer it when the supervillain correspondent kind of harasses Zach a bit, but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re a bit lackluster compared to Dr. Brainwave.)

||Oh well-||

(You know, I didn’t even want to hire you. I was gunning for Snipey McSkullface. That guy has style.)

||In the form of a skull face-tattoo, yes, I’m familiar with him.||

(Anyway, did you need something from me?)

||Er, yes. I was told that this position came with housing?||

(Oh yes definitely it does! You get to move into our super sweet basement! Right this way, follow me.)

||Thank you, it’s tough out there for a costumed smuggler. So I’m kind of in between homes at the moment.||

(Oh yeah? Wearing a distinctive bright costume makes smuggling more difficult? Who would’ve thunk.)

||Sigh.||

(Did you just say “sigh”?)

||So this basement...||

(Oh yeah! Dr. Brainwave used to live there, you know before he exploded, so a lot of his junk is still down there, but don’t worry we did our best to clear out the mutant alligators.)

||What do you mean you did your best?||

(Listen Smugs, at the end of the day mutant alligators will be mutant alligators if you catch my meaning.)

||I’m not sure I do...||

(Ha! Classic Smugs, anyway enjoy your new digs I’ll see you around.)

||Sure... thanks||

||Wow, they really left everything just as it was. All of Dr. Brainwave’s equipment and machinery is still here. This couldn’t have gone better... Now if I just fire up this thing ah, nope, that’s just a feed that shows what everyone else in this building is thinking about. Not what I’m looking for, but I’ll come back for that later maybe... Oh gross, you know what this thing should be burned. Now let’s see, shrink ray, precarious stack of explosives, ah! Here it is! The interdimensional warp gate generator. Excellent. Now, if I just power it up, and set it to the proper frequency. Yes... Yes! Yes it’s working! Oh now they’ll rue the day they disrespected Smuggles. Each of them will pay dearly for how they treated me... now that you’re back old frien-||

Hey, Smuggles? Oh good, Parenthesis Guy got you settled in, just wanted to thank you for your great work today and to check if you needed anythi- What are you doing.

||Oh Zach! Hello! What do you mean?||

Why is there a warp gate open in my basement? What are you doing with that thing?

||Taking my foul revenge on you and everybody else who ever slighted me! The world will crumble before me and my ally!!!||

Listen, if this is about the jokes, I’m sorry about that, but you really don’t want to do this. Trust me, this isn’t going to end well for any of us.

||It certainly won’t end well for you and all of your superhero friends. Ah, there he is. Welcome back, Chuck the Fish Whisperer.||

Oh... this is bad.

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sweatandwoe · 3 years ago

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I really liked the little glimpse into Silco’s thoughts during chapter 15! Could you maybe do one about how Silco dealt with the aftermath of the argument from the previous chapter? Jinx said he missed reader, so it’d be cool to see how frazzled he was by her distance from him and what he was thinking during that time.

you asked for this anon and it took over my brain. Spoilers for chapter 14 of Secret Ingredient

Bit of warnings: Silco's POV, swear words, some self-loathing, simping.

“Well, I don’t think there’s anything left to discuss.” He moved to sit back down, glaring back at the paper. “Get out.”

“Silco-”

“Get. Out.”

He didn’t bother to even watch as you shut the door. He glared at the paper in front of him, not even able to focus on it. You were soft, weak and yet you had dared question him about it. A babe in the fucking woods.

He went to bed angry that night. He even awoke with that anger still swimming in his belly.

The meetings were a good, if annoying, distraction. Border disputes, trade agreements, all of the boring shit that came with being a Chem Baron. But he liked the feeling, the power he welded, when he saw Smidge and Karvyq whispering about what had happened to Angelique’s boy. The slight fear in their eyes, even Karvyq’s silver hands trembled.

He liked none of them. All, except Choss, were tolerable. Choss would learn soon enough that though he had power, he was not welcome. His blood was still too blue and gold.

Once his meetings were done, he set up to do paperwork. He wasn’t sure how long it had been, when his stomach started to twist. He had only eaten whatever Chuck had brought him up for lunch. He glanced at the clock, and blinked once.

You usually would’ve been here half an hour ago. For a moment, he briefly wondered if Jinx was keeping you busy, before he remembered. Right, you were mad at one another.

He could order food brought up to his workspace, which he would do. The glance to the drawer where he kept the needle, made him pause though. He could skip a day of it. He had done so before.

You’d be back in tomorrow, he was sure of it.

He went to bed less angry, and woke up feeling neutral. His mind going over what had been said that night as he got ready. At first he focused far more easily on what you said, letting some of that anger return to his gut.

And then he slowly began to recall what he had said. Mulling it over, as he thought back about it. He frowned hard, as he recalled the shine in your eyes. The way they had crinkled as you frowned. Hurt.

He always had a tendency to go too far. He’d apologise for his words tonight, he decided.

His meetings were annoying again, but a willing distraction to avoid the way he could feel something sharp poking at his stomach. A gentle throb that seemed to be unable to leave, unless he distracted himself fully.

When dinner came, he felt oddly hopeful, when he saw the door open. He smiled when he saw Jinx, but his lips twitched when she shut the door behind her. Dragging a chair over to his desk, her legs kicking slightly as she sat. “Chuck is gonna bring us up fish and chips.”

He could remember the bread you had made a few days ago. You had brought it to him warm and buttered, with a small serving of chicken and vegetables after he had just wanted to sleep. Something deep ached within his stomach, that wasn’t his hunger. “Your mother isn’t joining us?”

Jinx smiled, so widely that it could’ve broken his heart. “She said we should have Father-Daughter time.”

His stomach felt like it had been stabbed and the blade was starting to twist. The feeling didn’t leave throughout dinner, though he did his best to ignore it for Jinx’s sake. Keeping engaged in conversation as she told him about her day, what she had done, what you both had done. And he let her scribble over some less important paperwork.

When his office door opened, his gaze snapped to it. But it was only open enough for you to call Jinx, who came over to his side of the desk, kissed his cheek and then headed out with a quick call of ‘goodnight Dad!’.

The door closed softly behind her.

The knife was more than twisting now, pulling and yanking at his stomach. His throat felt oddly tight.

He had only felt guilt for two people before. Vander and Jinx. You were the latest addition and somehow worse. You were right there. It wasn’t like before, when Vander had betrayed him and he had been in a bout of self-loathing. Not like when Jinx had run away, and he felt a failure as a father.

You were right there. Only a few minutes away and he could speak to you, see you. His body was screaming at him to do so. The black and red eye was beginning to sting, the skin around it beginning to swell. Trapped with only himself, as he sat in the chair.

She doesn’t want to see you, his own voice echoed into his ears. Something he hadn’t heard in years. She doesn’t want to speak to you. You’ve ruined it again.

He waved it away, and he moved to stand. Jinx would be asleep now, you’d be free to speak to. He was at the door, when he paused. Hesitating as he reached for the handle. If you didn’t want to see him, would you be angry if he came down? Would you hate him? She’s going to hate you more.

He moved back to his desk, frowning. He reached for the needle, hating how his hand shook. As his body fought against him, to try and prevent the pain.

He couldn’t press it down.

The next two days were similar, though Jinx only joined him for dinner for one of them. And he got the bare minimum of sleep. Choss and Voss were there when the power went out. Voss had gone into thinking he’d set a trap, and tripped over his coffee table. Her nose was smashed, as the ground shook. Choss had at least the sense to stay put.

Marcus had told him it would be in days time. Not now. Of course topside couldn’t keep to a fucking schedule.

Once everything stopped shaking, he got the two out of his office. Told Sevika to check on you and Jinx. He could still feel that knife twisting whenever he spoke your name.

He lit up some candles, hating how his hands had begun to shake. Hating how the thought of seeing you made his knees weak. His throat feeling dry, he let up a cigar and sat down. Then he waited.

Sevika opened the door after a few minutes, and there you were. With Jinx in your arms, and one hand was bleeding. He could hear your voice, talking softly to her. “Dad’s here. Look, he's here.”

When Jinx reached out, no amount of guilt could keep her from his arms. He gathered her easily, and tried not to smile as she buried her face into his shoulder. Rubbing his hand along her back, as he gave Sevika the orders.

Once he heard that everyone was gone, he comforted Jinx with some more words. Before his eyes zeroed in on your hands, and seeing the blood flared something in his stomach. “What happened?”

You flinched at the harshness of his voice and he felt the same stab in his gut. Look at how scared she is of you.

You explained how it happened, and you were so unsure, he had to tell you to follow him upstairs after he explained you’d need stitches.

He tried to ignore the odd feeling that swelled in him, as you sat on his bed. As you took in his personal room. You didn’t comment on it, and he didn’t ask, even if he wondered your thoughts on it.

Soon you were stitched up, and you had both managed to coax Jinx to sleep. It almost felt like when you came to see him at night. That when you both had re-entered the office, he could vent about Marcus for a moment. He was still angry at the new sheriff.

Silco moved at his desk, rubbing his temples for a moment, before he looked at you, as he reached for the cigar. One of the ones you had rolled. He brought it to his lips, with a pleased sigh.

There was a quick glance in your direction again before he cut it and lit it. He leaned back into his chair.

The silence wasn’t comfortable. Not like before. “Silco-” You had started, taking a step towards the desk.

He spoke before you could continue. He needed to. To feel the weight lift off of his chest. “I shouldn’t have said it.”

Your step froze, pausing as you gazed at him. “What?”

His gaze narrowed at his next glance to you. He took you in, as he took a drag from his cigar. You took another step forward, making your way to his desk. He blew out the smoke in a thick line, as you took another step. “I’m sorry.”

You stared at him. He felt his stomach flip, as you began to speak. “It’s still new. We were bound to hit this bump eventually.” You crossed your arms, frowning. “I’m sorry too.”

His head snapped to you now, staring at you. His blue eye wide. Something bounced horribly in his head as he stared at you, a feeling that went into his gut. He moved the cigar to his ashtray. “Why are you sorry?”

You stepped forward, until you were between his legs. A quick reach over him into the drawer for his needle, one that had him staring pointedly over your shoulder instead of to the slight dip your shirt was offering. “For one, I didn’t help you with this. I should have. Even if I’m upset with you, I should’ve helped you with it.”

His mouth set into a hard line, as he chewed on your words. The cold metal of the device was familiar, and he had to grip the armrests. “What’s the other thing?” He finally asked, and you pressed down on the end of the needle.

His entire body trembled at this shot, unused to it from the past few days. It hurt. But relief flooded too, as your hands came up to hold his face. It also sparked something horrible in his stomach, something that flooded up to his chest. Something horribly, terribly warm. His hands came and wrapped around your wrists easily, fingers digging in a little. When he was done, he could feel the sweat on his brow as he turned to look you dead in the eye.

You swallowed, meeting his gaze. “I trust you. You were right, I don’t know anything about this. I don’t know what it’s like.” He began to frown, he wanted to object. But he had done that enough last time, so he let you continue uninterrupted. “It’s true, even if it was said in the heat of the moment. I just… I get scared.”

His frown deepened, he pulled your hands away from his face, letting them go and hating how his stomach twinged when he did. “You know I’ve brought you under my protection. Jinx is under my protection too.”

“I know.” There was a long pause, neither of you speaking. He shifted in his chair, while you still stood so close. No longer between his legs, and he was glad you weren’t that close. The warmth was still swirling in his chest, but he could hear it softly in the back of his head. It questioned it enough that he voiced it.

“Is it me?”

The question was filled with a raw emotion, more than he intended. He didn’t look at you, staring down as he brought his hands loosely onto his thighs. “No. I used to be scared of you.” He frowned at your words. That shouldn’t have been surprising, but the warmth only mixed with that stabbing sort of feeling.

“The eye can take a while to get used to.”

He blinked, when your hand came up to his face. Touching the scarred side, and he couldn’t look away. Feeling you drag your thumb along the area. Your voice, clear, steady. Honest. “This wasn’t scary.” Then the hand left, and your fingers tapped against his forehead. A small little smile, that made his heart jolt. “This is the part that can be scary.”

He blinked again, unable to form words. That warmth in his gut had flooded upwards, into his chest. Making his throat tight. He almost reached for you when you moved away, before keeping his hands in his lap even as his fingers ached. He had to look away, pretending to focus on something out the window. To try and distract the what he was feeling.

You spoke after a minute, and he heard your hands tapping against his desk. “I just get scared. I think about what could happen.”

His gaze snapped to you. You weren’t looking directly at him, but he felt his hands tighten against his legs. “I won’t let it happen.”

Your worried look doesn’t leave. “Do you think Angelique was thinking the same thing for Finn?”

His jaw worked, as he thought. Tongue poking against his cheek, as he moved to cross his legs. That wasn’t something he had considered. He should’ve considered it. “What would you have her do instead?” His lips twitched as he gazed at you. “And not work with Singed.” The man was dangerous. He knew some of the things he was working on. And he’d heard rumours about what happened with his daughter.

“She’s smart.” You said, slowly. “She likes working with chemicals. Chemtech. Maybe she could study it to create things? New devices.” You paused, rubbing at your arms as you turned to gaze out the window next. “Weapons.”

He brought his hands together, folding the fingers neatly against one another. It wasn’t a bad idea in truth. And it would still mean a job. He knew Renni was running tests for her own chemtech inventions. Her son would be too young to work for years yet, but he could get him a safe job at a mine. A good exchange.

He gave you a nod after a moment. “I still want her to be trained.”

Your own nod was more tight. A soft ‘okay’, that had his shoulders slump from tension he hadn’t realized he was holding. You spoke again. “We should still talk to her about it too.”

Silco gave a small nod, spreading two fingers against his chin as he thought. He gazed at you. Soft, weak. Words he had used to think about you before, when he was angry. Now he was far more concerned. “You should get training too.”

Your lips twitched, as though it were funny. “Why?”

“The best way to kill fear is to hone yourself. To turn yourself into a weapon against it.” He turned his gaze to his desk. His free hand tapped against his arm rest, as he dragged the fingers from his chin out. Extending them to you, pointing. ”To become stronger than the person you were before.” Then both hands returned to his lap, his fingers trailing against one another, tracing old scars. He had so many. Did you have any scars he wondered?

That led to the horrible thought of wondering what you did look like under your clothes. The warmth in his chest spread back down, and - nope. He was not going to indulge those thoughts… Right now anyway.

“I’ll join Jinx in training.” You finally agreed, softly.

He gave a small noise of confirmation, leaning back in his chair. There was a pause, as he considered a new thought. “Do you think about what happened with Finn a lot?” He asked, trying to keep his voice soft.

“Sometimes.” You admitted. “Just dreams mainly, and it’d start out as Finn.” You swallowed. His chest stirred as he watched you. He could see that your eyes were growing shiny. “It’d end with Jinx.”

There is a small moment of quiet, before he reached out to brush his fingertips over your arm. You turned to him, and he was able to grip your elbow. His fingers hooked around it, and you asked him a question that shot ice in his veins. “Do the dreams ever go away?”

He gave a tug, and you stepped closer. And he gave more tugs until you were finally close enough he could brush his nose against your own. There was an urge to glance at your mouth, to stare at your lips. But if he did, he knew he’d only see them wobble right now.

“No.” And he kept the word soft, before he wrapped his arms around you. Dragging you into his hold, as you let out a sob that went right to his heart. He moved his hands gently along your back.

He didn’t mind as you sniffed and sobbed all over his shoulder. When you pulled away, he almost smiled at how adorable your post-crying face looked. Instead he just handed you a handkerchief from his pocket. You thanked him for it before moving to wipe your face.

His lips twitched. “It usually works for Jinx.”

You managed a small laugh then. “Like mother, like daughter.”

Gods that warmth was not going to leave. He gave a small nod, looking away from you now. He faced away from the candles, his face more shrouded in the darkness. “Tell anyone I did that, and I’ll have you buried alive.” He hoped the tone had no bite in it. That it came off as teasing as he meant it to.

“I’ll take it to my grave.” You promised with a smile, wiping at your face, before leaning against his desk.

The silence that fell was comfortable. Lingering around you both, until you reached into the drawer where he kept all his makeup supplies. He held his head up, and you gently removed the makeup. The odd feeling of your hands still shooting warmth up his throat. And he was glad you didn’t talk as you did it, because he was sure he wouldn’t be able to speak.

Then you both headed up the stairs. Silco ensured the office lights were out, and that his lighter was in his pocket.

Jinx was still out. Snoring louder now, as you settle in one the side without the nightstand. Silco removed his shoes, and then joined you both. He watched as it took you sometime to fall asleep.

Once you were, he reached out a hand. His fingers lightly pressed against your back, while he felt Jinx’s legs move onto his stomach. God he hoped she didn’t kick him during the night. She had done that once before when she had a nightmare and joined him in bed. He had gotten woken up gasping for air, as her night terror returned.

He brought a pillow down to cover his stomach just in case.

When he woke, it would be minutes before Jinx woke up. His hand was still on your back, and he rubbed against it slowly.

There was the thought of how it’d be to wake up like this. With you in his bed, where he could slide himself against you and hold you.

Maybe a bit of your softness had attached itself to him, he thought, before Jinx promptly kicked him in the stomach.

The pillow had helped a bit.

#silco x reader #silco #arcane #secret ingredient #he's just simping guys #just real bad #like really real bad #sweaty asks #I really like writing from his pov #sad broken rat man

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jewishcharliebradbury · 4 years ago

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long dean/cas fic recs

here is THEE masterpost of long-af fics i’ve been promising!

fics are organized by length from shortest to longest, starting at 50k words

they’re a mix of au’s and canonverse (mostly canonverse since that’s what i typically prefer)

i’ve added ratings, official descriptions, and my own supplementary description/notes/notable trigger warnings if neccesary

asterisks are added to my fave fics

this list will probably be updated with additions in the future, i’ll mark any new ones by bolding the text (last updated: 10/09/21)

all rec posts

Long Fics (50k to 80k):

Though The Course May Change (explicit/51k)

After a couple who went missing several years ago from an Oregon couples retreat are mysteriously returned on the same night that another disappears, Dean and Charlie plan to go undercover to find the cause--until Dean's foot meets his mouth, and he finds himself fake-engaged to Castiel instead.

(accidental) fake dating case-fic set in an alternate s9. cute, funny, has interesting monster of the week.

Teaching Poetry to Fish (mature/52k)*

In which Castiel teaches poetry to fish. Also, himself. Also, eventually, Dean.

(A series-long story, diverging slightly from canon after S14.)

really good cas pov/lore- heavy fic! feat. many fish and actual poetry.

any port in a storm (mature/53k)

The angels have fallen, leaving Castiel graceless and Dean with, well, more of other people’s problems. When a string of couples goes missing on the east coast, Dean and Cas decide to investigate—and find themselves trapped and hunted on a couples’ counseling cruise. Although battling monsters at sea is dangerous enough, sorting through emotional baggage proves to be far more deadly. (And, in which Cas embarks to find his missing grace and Dean is put out. Not necessarily in that order.)

alternate s9, fake dating case fic set on a cruise ship for couples going though rough patches. they have to talk their shit out while cas still adjusts to being human and tries to figure out what metatron might be up to.

ascend (mature/53k)*

Something in the world is wrong.Demon activity is rising where mysterious black substance oozes and unusual ecological events are shaking the world. Dean, grief hanging on his shoulders, restlessly searches for answers that might lead him to the Empty… and to Cas.But what Chuck wrote can’t be undone. The narrative thread pulls Dean along, forcing him to comply. Because once a story already has an ending, it can’t be rewritten.

Or can it?

EXCELLENT fix it/saving cas from the empty fic.

Twas In Another Lifetime (One of Toil and Blood) (explicit/53k)

Ouroboros is a town where the hills whisper sins and trees snatch up kids. It takes a certain kind of grit to brave the heat waves and the shadows that haunt every crossroads. Dean Winchester has cut his teeth in the magic dusted soil, made a life for himself away from the fae that lurks among the humans. When Sam leaves in the middle of the night with no promise of returning, however, Dean’s life turns upside down. He turns to the only fae he’s come to trust, a man with sapphire eyes who goes by the name of James.

Dragged into the magical world around him, Dean now finds himself as the caretaker for James’ half-human, half-fae son, Jack. Dean and James grow closer despite the West’s old secrets and the Fae’s older magic. In a struggle against old fears, longing for family, and desperation to save his brother, Dean must learn to trust what destroyed his father.

magical realism-ish, western-ish au where demons and angels are the fae instead.

The Prophet Must Die (mature/54k)

"What about Castiel? He seems helpful... and dreamy."

Something about the comment just isn't sitting right, and Dean's jaw twitches. He stares at the wall in the dark, and at a quarter past four in the morning, it hits him.

"Asshole," Dean hisses under his breath, sitting up straight, "that sonofabitch kept publishing."

s8, dean finds the supernatural books online and has some Realizations™. does some pretty clever stuff with established prophet powers and lore.

Games of Skill and Fortune (teen/54k)

Turns out, time-sharing your brain with a half-crazy archangel nursing a solitaire addiction is even less fun than it sounds.

(In which Dean kicks out one Michael only to go looking for another.)

to keep au!michael from destroying heaven dean becomes the vessel for the og michael, who is not only extremely weak and traumatized from his time in the cage but also has annoying habits like gambling, les mis stanning, and berating dean for leading on his little brother. interesting heaven/angel lore, good michael chara developement.

Tall Grass (explicit/57k)

“I think we should have a garden,” Cas says.

Dean looks up from his beer. He hasn’t had that much to drink, but Cas still has a vague look of unreality about him, a splash of living color that doesn’t fit in the bunker’s echoing stillness. Dean didn’t hear him coming. A lot of the time, Cas is so unobtrusive it feels like Dean has the bunker to himself, with Sam away.

Dean shakes his head to clear it. “A — garden?” he repeats.

cas becomes thee ultimate plant dad. featuring the wayward sisters gang, cathartic character growth, fun oc’s, domesticity, and lots of actual fun botanical facts.

Plain Language (explicit/57k)

Charlie sets her beer down hard on the counter, making him flinch. “Are you trying to invent a problem?” she asks incredulously.

“What? No, dude, I’m telling you—”

“Your boyfriend turned down sex twice, once because you were concussed and your arm was broken, and once because he was about to drive out of state to help your brother,” Charlie summarises, brutal and unrelenting. “And you think that, what? You can never ask him for sex again because of that?”

Dean’s been playing catch-up his entire life, and he’s still figuring out the whole “asking for what I want” thing.

s12-ish au, dean and cas are an established couple but are still, well, not that great at the whole communication part of it

A Judicious Application of Free Will (explicit/57k)

Dean lives the simple life in Lawrence, running the family business at Winchester Hardware. When Castiel moves into the neighborhood, they strike up a friendship that has the chance to become something more. But before that can run its course, the secrets of Castiel’s past catch up with them both, and their whole world changes.

a very old-school, canon-divergent disguised as a full-on au fic.

Emergence (explicit/58k)*

Something’s been missing from Dean’s life for the past three years, a void left after a hunt gone terribly wrong. He often feels a sense of longing with no discernible cause, a need to talk to someone who isn’t there.

A call from an acquaintance leads Dean to James Novak, a man who disappeared more than a decade ago, and suddenly Dean gets the feeling he’s found what he’s been missing. But James isn’t really James — he’s the angel Castiel, who’s wanted by angels, demons and hunters alike. And he may be at the center of the storm that wrecked Dean’s life all those years ago.

after s11 dean, sam, and eileen have their memories of cas mysteriously erased. three years later they run into a man they only recognize as their friend claire’s long lost father, but dean soon begins to realize that he might be the key to understanding the strange void in his memories and feelings. tw for torture aftermath.

To Mend The Cracks With Gold (explicit/59k)

After almost losing Charlie to the Stynes, and almost losing Cas in the fight that follows, Dean Winchester is ready to do whatever it takes to rid himself of the Mark of Cain. But when the solution turns out to lie in unfinished Winchester business - shutting the gates of hell - Dean begins to realize this is a quest he might not survive.

au where cas saves charlie’s life after her run in with the stynes and works with her (and kevin’s ghost) to reopen heaven, while dean comes up with a new plan to permanently get rid of the mark of cain involving the trials from s8. dark/angsty but has happy ending. tw for canon-typical suicide ideation and child (teen but still) death.

The Shape of Things to Come (mature/62k)

It almost feels like, if Dean went to sleep right now, he could get it back. Like he would slip right back into the dream, and it would pick up where it left off. But Dean doesn’t even want to, now that he can see that world for what it is: a cheap hallucination, poking at all his weaknesses, going right for the soft underbelly Dean never shows.

All that work. All that work Dean had done over the past few weeks, trying to numb himself and act like he’d forgotten about it. And now it feels like the Empty took Cas all of five minutes ago, all over again.

Or,

A post-15x19, forty one year-old Dean gets a taste of what twenty seven year-old Dean went through in 2x20, “What Is and What Should Never Be,” and sees how the shape of his own happiness has changed.

dean is forced to directly face all the cas-related emotions he’s been suppressing since the confession after a djinn encounter. things get more complicated when he starts getting strange dreams where cas seems to be trying to communicate from the empty.

Issues (mature/63k)

Best friends since childhood, Dean and Cas have been on shaky ground for years now. When an argument somehow leads to a bet about who’s better at relationships - one that calls for six months of living together as fake boyfriends and going to couples therapy every week - Cas may get more than he bargained for . . .

normal world au, dean and cas pretend to date to win a bet and get in over their heads. its from cas’s pov (who is more endverse adjacent characterization wise), and there’s a sequel retelling it from dean’s pov i haven’t read yet. tw’s for drug usage/mentions of past drug usage and overdose.

what stays (and what fades away) (explicit/64k)

Cas Novak’s life is perfect. He has a job that he loves and friends who support him. Most importantly, he has his husband, Dean Winchester, and his two adopted children, Claire and Jack. With them, nothing could ever go wrong.

That is, until he starts having flashes of a life that isn’t his and meets someone who shares his husband’s face but not his personality, someone who insists that he’s someone, something, different altogether. Cas’ life shatters when he’s dragged into a world that he doesn’t belong to and doesn’t understand.

Canon divergent from mid s15, cas gets trapped in a djinn-dream based spell and thinks he has a normal life with dean and their two kids--even after he gets woken up. As they attempt to break the spell and bring cas back to himself dean does a deep dive into both of their memories and has some significant realizations about the ways they’ve both hurt each other over the years, how to start healing, and the true nature of their feelings for each other.

Memories Bring Back Memories (Bring Back You) (explicit/66k)

When he wakes, he has no idea who he is. Not his name, what he looks like, or why he’s flat on his back, staring up at the stars littering the night sky.

The first thing he learns about himself is that he has shitty instincts, especially if his first one is to protect the blue-eyed man currently stabbing someone in the face.

Or, the story where two strangers can’t agree on much and know even less, but they’re both fairly certain that they’re in love.

s15, the divorce arc is interrupted early on when dean and cas both lose their memories and come to the reasonable conclusion that they are probably serial killers and also a couple. the memory part is fun but most of the fic is about them reacting to the fallout after remembering everything and slowly working their shit out through various means.

The Goldenrod Revisions (mature/66k)*

A rewrite of Supernatural’s final two episodes, expanded into a five episode arc - in which Chuck needs to be defeated, Castiel deserves to be saved, and the characters in this story get a very different ending.

five new episodes in scripts format following 15x18 that not only resolve every single plot point but goes on to radically restructure the entire world of the series.

True as It Can Be (explicit/71k)

Growing up in a small town in Kansas, Dean learned from a young age that there was only one rule that couldn’t be broken, one place he couldn’t go - through the forest, to the long-abandoned Angel’s Hollow. But when Sam disappears, Dean’s left with no choice but to follow his brother's tracks through the dangers of the wood; little does he know that the most dangerous creature of all lurks not among the trees, but in the Hollow itself. Dean sets Sam free, at the cost of his own liberty - and, bound by magic, resigns himself to living out the rest of his days in the Hollow, at the mercy of the being within. The angel of Angel’s Hollow, however, has a story - is a prisoner, too, as much as Dean is. Only one thing can free them both - but it is impossible. For, after all: who could ever learn to love a beast?

beauty and the beast inspired au.

i want to do with you (what spring does with cherry trees) (explicit/74k)*

Dean keeps going back.

When he arrives, it's always to blooming flowers and a windmill in the background, not too far from a brook, the sun painting the plains.

He likes it there. He likes to stand in front of the makeshift urn and check that it's still where he put it, switching out the flowers when they wilt. He likes to listen to the sound of birds chirping, insects singing, the faint sound of water trickling in the distance. He likes to turn his face up and feel the sun on his skin, wondering if Cas would do the same if he were here, somehow knowing that he would.

He likes to talk.

There's never a response, but Dean feels the breeze rustle through his hair and watches the flowers bob when bees come to them and stares as the windmill keeps turning, turning, turning. And he imagines that Cas is replying—the windmill is the tilted head, the bobbing flowers are a gentle smile, the breeze is whatever words Dean wants to hear at the time.

Sometimes, it's almost like he's there.

widower era-through-alternate post-canon fic inspired by the leaked 13x06 “tombstone” script where dean spread cas’ ashes by the windmill, and they (kind of) get together after his resurrection.

When the Bough Breaks (mature/74k)

Years after the Darkness has been defeated, Dean and Cas are living the apple pie life in small-town Kansas. They don’t hunt anymore, and would like to keep it that way, but some young hunters knocking at their door have different plans.Dean, Cas and Sam reluctantly agree to help out, but what ought to be a simple case becomes way more complicated and dangerous than they counted on. And when the hunt starts to invade the normal lives they've carved out for themselves and their kids, Dean and Cas begin to wonder if escaping the hunting life altogether might have been wishful thinking.

future/kid fic that takes place way after an alternate ending to s11 where dean and cas got together, eventually retired and started a family. I’m not normally a fan of kid oc’s but i actually enjoyed these ones and the way dean cas and sam juggled their new families and lives with their past and not-so-past activities as hunters.

the cost of a thing (mature/74k)

16 months ago, Cas became human.

12 months ago, Cas left the bunker and a broken-hearted Dean behind.

Now they must work a case together, where married couples are dying mysterious deaths and the only way to earn the neighbors' trust is by pretending to be married. Slowly, Dean finds that he loves being in a relationship with Cas, fake or not, and Cas finds his loneliness retreating, despite the harsh reality looming right around the corner. As Dean and Cas navigate this fake, but all too real, relationship, can they find the monster that is on a mysteriously motivated killing spree before it’s too late?

fake married case fic, the trials in s8 were done differently and resulted in dean and cas falling out and sam tries to get them to be friends again by working together on a case. good sam/cas friendship, slow reveal of exactly what happened, interesting new motw.

The Harvelle Gospels (mature/79k-2 part series)*

When Jo was on the cusp of 23, her mother was burned alive in an ambush by some followers of the Yellow-Eyed Demon. Back then she didn’t know this was all part of some cosmic plan, that Ellen was supposed to be the Righteous Woman to set off the Apocalypse. No, she just lost her mother, and she did the only thing she could think of: she sold her soul to the same demons who murdered her. Ellen’s soul was freed and laid to rest, and Jo took up the mantle, and broke when she picked up the knife, broke the whole damn world.

au where jo is the righteous woman/michael sword/protagonist, anna is the angel who raised her from perdition, and sam and dean are just important side characters. jo/anna is the main (albeit slow-burn) pairing, dean/cas still happens but is on and off until the end. really really well done and fun restructuring of canon and character roles to fit in this au.

Really Long Fics (80k+ to 150k)

What is Hidden, What is Seen (mature/83k)*

The Darkness has descended, and Castiel must make a choice. What, in reality, is the nature of Free Will, and where does love end and self-effacement begin? And why didn't Castiel know about the Mark of Cain and its relation to The Darkness in the first place?

alternate s11 where the darkness is an apocalyptic-level problem right off the bat and dean, sam and cas all actually deal with the emotional damage caused by the mark of cain. angsty, cathartic, cool worlbuilding/improving on established lore and worldbuilding).

On the Wings of War (teen/85k)

The four Horsemen are not just people with fancy rings. They aren’t even demons with fancy rings. They are another species entirely, a force unto themselves, and Lucifer is kidding himself if he thinks that they are at his beck and call. They are separate. They are neutral. Dean Winchester is not built like them.

s5, dean fucks around with war’s ring and finds out when he becomes the NEW war. plays fun, fast and loose with biblical lore, michael has some rights, aesthetically a tad lovecraftian. tw for some signifigant body horror.

So Says The Sword (explicit/85k)***

The briefing was simple: ‘Stand guard over the Michael Sword until the battle is ready to commence. Await further instructions.’

Castiel doesn’t mind working security duty; he was briefed shortly after the initial salvation of the Sword from the pit, and again before taking up his position. He knows what to do. However, it’s easy to forget that the green room isn’t real. Time moves differently there, the space ever-changing to make a prison of mountains, cathedrals, salt flats, orchards, and whatever Castiel was led to believe about Heaven’s greatest weapon—Dean Winchester is something entirely unexpected.

THEEE cas pov/trueform angels/time travel/canon divergent s4 fic of all time. quite literally required reading for ANYONE invested in these characters, even if you haven’t actually watched the show (it’ll still work if you just know some dashboard-osmosis basics).

tell me about the dream (mature/89k)

“Shut up and listen,” Bobby says. “I ain’t calling about some monster, I’m calling about Castiel.”

Dean freezes in place. “He’s alive?”

“More’n that, Dean. He’s human.”

On instinct, every atom in Dean’s body is on high alert. He starts moving, fingers already reaching for the keys he hangs up on a loose nail next to the door. “Where is he?”

or, in which after lucifer hitches a ride to hell on sam's back, dean makes good on his promise to settle down. so what if it's with cas instead of lisa?

alternate s6 where dean and cas move in together, take in claire, and live a (mostly) normal life.

a way to go (explicit/90k/wip)

God, Cas can fuck him up so easily, like he’s come across a stray thread and is just pulling without a thought. “I’m gonna get us both killed,” Dean promised him, and his voice was choked. Cas’s answering smile was so wide it split his face. “What a way to go.”

After Zachariah’s vision of the future, Dean doesn’t reconcile with his brother. He doesn’t say yes to Michael. Instead, the world slowly goes to hell around him and he finds that all they have left, him and Cas, are each other. Deviation from canon post-5.04.

a road to endverse-but-slightly-to-the left fic where a lot of things change but a few key things, unfortunately, stay the same (also dean’s trans). Unfortunately a wip that hasn’t been updated in quite a while but there’s plenty to read right now and the author appears to still be active so still worth checking out if this sounds good to you imo!

The Most Important Thing (explicit/94k)

Jimmy Novak remembers nothing of the last six years. Reunited with his troubled daughter Claire, he's struggling to raise her on his own. The most important thing is to make Claire happy. But why does he keep having these dreams of wings, and of two men in a black car?

s10 au where due to mysterious circumstances cas has amnesia, believes he is jimmy, and is living with claire and trying to be a good dad. both the dean/cas and the mystery of what happened are slow burn, and claire + her feelings about and relationship with cas are really well written and complex.

Named (mature/95k)

Jesus Christ is dead. Somehow, that isn't the worst part of Dean's week.

yes jesus is an important character in this, yes he is killed off in the first chapter, yes it is extremely blasphemous in a fun sexy way. old school alternate s5 fic with a very different interpretation of cas’ mission to raise dean from hell, among other things; unfortunately like many other old school fic (2010 in this case) it is rather misogynistic at times and particularly character assassinates anna in one chapter :/. tw for aforementioned blasphemy/misogyny/some ableist language.

take the long way home (explicit/95k)

Three months ago, when Dean decided to retire, he thought his life was going to end up differently. He'd thought that he might get to have it all, Sam, Cas, Jack, and nice little place to live. Instead he gets Sam and Jack off on their Summer of Love Tour, radio silence from Cas, and a never-ending road trip consisting of himself.

Still reeling from the loss of his grace, Castiel travels the country in search of hunts. Driven by a need to prove his usefulness, he pushes himself beyond all limits of endurance.

Together, with the help of a few friends, a crumbling Victorian house, and a stray cat, Dean and Castiel patch themselves back together and create a home together.

late season-ish/post-canon au where sam and dean decide to retire after a hunt goes very bad and cas becomes human, cas becomes a solo hunter after taking this very badly. cas is in a really bad place mentally and sometimes physically for a lot of this and he and dean have a lot of issues but they mostly work it out and end up heading down the road to the vermont b&b dean joked about at some point in the show. also sam and jack are doing their own thing mostly but they show up eventually, and there’s side sam/rowena. tw’s for depression/suicide ideation/animal death/hunt-related self harm/brief non-con attempt (siren attack).

a turn of the earth (mature/95k)

Dean’s your typical half-orphaned, monster-killing 22-year-old until a trenchcoated stranger crashes into his back windshield one September night, claiming he’s an angel that knows him from the future and that he’s on the run.

Frigging fantastic.

(Or, in which Castiel gets stuck in Dean’s timeline preseries and Dean kind of hates it—until he doesn’t.)

time travel fic where s10!cas keeps popping up in pre-canon dean’s life up until the hellhounds take his soul to hell and cas is seemingly completely erased from the timeline. slow burn, sad at times but has happy ending, also at one point cas meets john and immediately punches him in the face.

take the bones, begin anew (mature/103k)

“What else was I supposed to say, Sam?” Dean asks him. “I’m not...look, Cas is my best friend, and I care about him. That’s it.”

“And you renovated a house for him,” Sam continues. “And live with him.”

or: a year in the life, in which it takes some time, but they figure it out

after cas gets out of the empty he and dean a) do NOT effectively talk about the confession and their respective feelings and b) move into kelly’s lake house together, where they figure out their new lives, do some major home renovating, and (eventually) get their shit together. tw for canon typical alchoholism.

dumbassery, denial, doing (the three d’s to the destination) (explicit/108k)*

Freedom is just one adjustment after the next.

au after 15x17. dean finally gets to enjoy a mostly normal life with his friends and family after chuck is defeated sans any love confessions, but soon starts realizing that his feelings for cas aren’t really all that platonic (aka THEE sobsicles reverse confession fic).

Remaining Grace (explicit/109k)

Sam's missing his soul, Castiel has a pissy archangelic nemesis, and Dean wonders if he'll be spending the rest of his life making sure the Apocalypse doesn't go ahead as scheduled. Still, though. He's happy to see Cas. Indiana wasn't really working out.

Alternate season 6, in a universe where Castiel made a different choice, and things snowball from that point forward.

cas reaches out to dean instead of just watching him rake leaves and their soul-bond becomes the key to defeating raphael. tw for temporary major character death/semi-graphic depictions of alcohol withdrawal.

Bumper Cars (e/111k)

Two teenagers are missing from an abandoned carnival, and there’s enough to raise suspicion that their disappearance involves a ghost. Dean, Sam, and Cas arrive in town to investigate, though what they find leads them away from those teenagers, and on the trail of a ghost story that churns up things from their past.

very slow-burn case fic that’s also essentially one big middle finger to john’s parenting skills. tw for descriptions of (past) child/teen death and canonical child abuse.

My Roots Take Flight (mature/125k)*

After forty years in Hell, Dean’s more than willing to accept the offer: become a guardian angel and earn his freedom. But his new ward seems destined to hunt alongside Sam, and there are secrets in Heaven that the angels don’t want found out. Dean’s going to have to choose between his duty and the people he loves- and to work out just where Castiel fits in.

alternate s4/reverse au where cas is a human hunter and dean’s an angel...at first glance anways! tw for brief depiction and frequent mentions of a psychiatric hospital setting/ableist language/graphic torture.

Epic Length Fics (150k+)

Plot Holes (teen/160k)

Of course it wasn’t over after the apocalypse.

There was season six. Then there was season seven. Against all expectations, there was season eight. There were the alphas and purgatory, and then the Leviathans, and then the angels fell. Enter season nine. Loose threads Metatron, Abaddon, and Crowley have to be tied up. Sam, Dean, and Cas have to try to tie them while at the same time dealing with their evolving relationships and newfound graceless states.

Amidst all the chaos, someone has started publishing the Supernatural novels again. Convinced there’s something amiss in the pages, Charlie starts her own quest to suss out the truth behind the Winchester Gospels.

With the help of various faces, old and new, they must now not only deal with the typical runs of demons and recently fallen angels, but also reconcile the battles raging inside themselves, as the fate of the world, once again, quite literally lays in the palm of their hands.

a very metatextual alternate s9, where pretty much all the plot points of s8 are resolved and all the major reality-shaking events of the past few seasons have consequences on an interdimensional scale.

Cinderwings (mature/181k)*

Under the cover of a masquerade ball, Castiel has five nights to recover the key to his people's freedom. The world has changed greatly in the six centuries since their banishment into the void, but the task isn't impossible. Unfortunately for Castiel, this is going to involve talking to people - especially the Knight Prince who has taken an interest in Castiel and his "costume" wings.

fantasy au loosely based on cinderella, has really excellent worldbuilding and a cool magic system.

time has come today (teen/174k/3 part series)

Cas fetches 19yr-old Dean from 1998 to help the team with a griffin hunt in 2020. Dean Winchester, being allergic to self-reflection, doesn't love it. What follows is character-oriented Case Fic with Feelings in an S15 pocket-time.

teenage dean (my beloved!!) gets whisked to the present to help with a very important hunt and both he and his older counterpart figure some shit out and bond (when they aren’t getting on each others nerves), and he eventually gets a happy ending/world of his own. good character study, intricate world/reality-building, fun oc’s, and some pretty ingenious solutions to preventing a major time paradox. tw’s for child abuse/mentions of past sex work/very brief implied sexual assault/coercion

Profoundly Different (explicit/190k)

"Castiel?" Sam calls out, carefully. Both of them lower their guns but don’t put them away, yet: there’s no sign of a struggle, but the guy did just break out of an insane asylum by squishing an orderly. With a bureau that he shouldn't have been able to move. "We're not gonna hurt you. We're here to help. My name is Sam. This is my brother, Dean."There's a loud silence. Dean can hear the wind rustling through the structure.A deep voice suddenly speaks up. It’s coarse and raspy and sounds like it hurts coming out; he’s never heard anything like it. It sends shivers down Dean's spine."Dean?” the man asks. “Dean Winchester?"

(A Season 4 AU: what if the fallen angel Dean and Sam ran into was Castiel, not Anna?)

cas is both the fallen angel instead of anna and the one who raised dean from perdition thanks to time travel, and the main plot points of s4 proceed from there. ngl it gets very horny very quickly but if that’s not your thing there’s quite a lot of plot to work with, and i enjoyed the way things were rewritten to work with the new timeline.

heard from your mother (she don't recognize you) (mature/243k/first part of an in progress series)

A man named Cas wakes up in 2003 with no memories, but he's able to piece together a few things:

Supernatural creatures exist, and most of them will hurt innocent civilians if he doesn't stop them; he has abilities that no human hunter should have, but he knows enough about human hunters to keep that to himself, and finally; he keeps running into another hunter named Dean Winchester, who must be as lonely as he is if he's willing to put up with those former facts long enough to help Cas unravel the mystery of who (or what) he really is.

For his part, Dean's still (not) dealing with Sam's departure to Stanford, and figures distracting himself with a bit of mystery and intrigue is as harmless as it gets, right? Right.

after getting taken by the empty after his confession to dean, cas mysteriously ends up in 2003 with no memories or knowledge of who he is, and ends up becoming a hunter and slowly befriending dean. the fic spans the stanford era and an entire retelling of s1 with some MAJOR changes, and since its clearly A Whole Lot the author very kindly made a chapter by chapter summary. aside from some very short timestamps only the first part of the series is complete, and i’m excited to see what happens next in this version of s2!

Redemption Road (multi-part series/652k)

Team Free Will is sent reeling as Sam struggles with the aftermath of his time in the cage, and Dean struggles to cope with the loss of his best friend. Meanwhile, Castiel's miracles have unforeseen consequences that may force Bobby's hand…

an alternate s7 and onwards that was created by a collaborative writing group back in the lj era (and has aged comparitively well compared to a LOT of popular fics from that time). has a cool take on godstiel and the leviathans/the lovecratian mythos connection, and uses ‘the song of songs’ and the concept of dean raising cas from perdition as major inspirations (for the first part at least).

ngl when i most recently reread it i only made it about 28% in but imo the casual reader can actually stop around there, the rest concerns a lovecraftian apocalypse that is still good but not required to enjoy the first half.

Down to Agincourt (multi-part series/wip/basically a million words)*

The world's already over and they're already dead. All they're doing now is marking time until the end.

yes its a million words and counting. yes its a wip (which i normally avoid) . yes its an endverse fic (which i also normally avoid). and yes its INCREDIBLY difficult to describe. all that being said, its SO good and unique, contains multitudes of lesser tropes (fake dating/slow burn/etc), has phenomenal worldbuilding, complex magic systems, a host of really great and complex original characters, and a surprising amount of pan-hellenic historical/mythological references. most importantly despite being endverse its surprisingly light (relatively speaking) and is not graphic at all when it comes to the canonical aspects of it (orgies/drug use/rampant death/etc), and i actually really like this version of endverse!cas!

tbqh i’ve only read the first three books so far but i honestly recommend trying at least the first one if any of this sounds like it might be up your alley.

#thank u for your patience xoxo #also sorry it’s not longer I’m just veeeery picky when it comes to recommending stuff #deancas #fic #fic recs #spn #mine #pop

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internalsealpanic · 3 years ago

Text

Sealing the Deal part 1

Summary: Always, always be nice to sea creatures but never ever accept their pelt.

A/n: A fic I’ve been meaning to write since forever. My contribution to mermay.

warning: Disgusting fluff and bad decisions

Main Masterlist

part 2

You look like you're gonna die from boredom in your little fishing boat.

Dick rolls over to where Jason was sprawled and used his momentum to push the larger seal into the water. Jason gives an undignified squawk of outrage. Dick just preens and looks smug.

You cup your hand over your mouth as you begin to laugh.

Jason glares even harder at Dick. Dick... couldn't care even less if he tried. All he can focus on is the wrinkle in the corners of your eyes. They'd been gone for so long these past few months. It felt like the first ray of sun after a long storm.

Dick claps his fins in excitement even as Jason snuffs and rolls his eyes. You clap in return but accidentally drop your fishing pole into the sea. Reaching for it, you fall into the water. Dick feels a little bad for laughing but you manage to get yourself back up into the boat safely. You sigh in defeat as your fishing pole drifts away. Dick notices for the first time that your face has grown gaunt from the last few weeks. Are you eating enough? Are you even taking care of yourself? Dick swims over to your boat as it rocks back and forth on the waves. He hops in easily and plops onto your stomach. You laugh and pet his head. It was a weak laugh so he croons at you in question.

“Sorry pup, I don’t have any food for you today. I mean I don’t even have any for me.” Despite the sweet timbre of your voice, Dick can still taste the bitter hopelessness in the statement.

He nuzzles his face into your chest. He can feel just how thin you’ve gotten. He has to do something about this.

To say Dick had been afraid of humans would be a monumental understatement. It had been around 200 years since humans had left the island and the first thing they did when they came back was hunt down selkies. Dick's parents had been two of the unlucky few who'd been hunted down.

So when Dick found himself stranded onshore because of a fin tangled in a fishing line, he thought he was a goner. And when he saw you approaching; well, he still thought he was fucked but he thought you'd at least be nicer than the adults.

Maybe if he acts cute enough you'll spare him.

Dick whimpered and he gave you the big innocent look.

You shushed him harshly. Dick flinched then you flinched and muttered apologies.

You approached him slowly. You looked around before crouching and fiddling with the line Dick had managed to get himself caught in. Carefully, you began to disentangle him. It hurt, especially when you took the hook out, but once he was free. He clapped and trilled before you shushed him again.

Dick thought that it was all over and he could just roll back into the sea until you scoop him up and swaddle him in your shirt.

After 10 minutes of your father screaming at you, he agreed to treat Dick who knew better than to snap at him. Your father was kind with gentle hands. He worked on Dick while you fed him fish. It wasn't the best fish but Dick can't complain.

After an hour or so, Dick started to wriggle and you pull him closer to your chest.

"Dad, can we keep him for a few days? He might still be sick." You plead with big eyes.

Your father glared at you then sighed. "No more than two. His wounds just need to close up, understand?"

You squealed a little. Hugging Dick tighter, you thanked your father before scampering off to find you a basin to put Dick in. You, thankfully, had the good sense to fill it with lukewarm water.

Dick lived like a king in those two days. You fed him a lot of fish much to your dad's exasperation. You kept him warm. You even read to him and sang songs to him.

Dick wanted to stay but he missed Bruce, Alfred, Damian, and maybe that new kid Jason.

On the fourth day (one of the wounds was deeper than expected), Dick was released back into the sea but he never did manage to stay away after that

Dick sets the odd little trinket down in front of Jason's sleeping form. It was something you'd caught in your net days before along with the meager amount of fish you'd managed to net. You'd busied yourself with it for days before throwing it out. Dick wasn't sure what it was; all he knew was that it was something Jason would like.

He waits semi patiently for Jason to notice it, nudging it forward a little until it touches Jason's snout and the larger seal is forced to pay attention to Dick.

"I know when I'm being bribed, Dickface." Jason says, glaring.

Dick volleys it with a wide-eyed hopeful look. He nudges the little trinket forward again. This time, instead of ignoring him, Jason rises to his full height, teeth bared. This... does not faze Dick.

"C'mon Jaaaaaaay," Dick says as if the prolonging of syllables would whittle down Jason's irritation. Jason suspects if he were less inclined to tell Dick to fuck off, it would have worked. Probably. But as it stands, Dick is responsible for ruining a very good, very rare nap for Jason and so he's on the shit list and has lost any favor privileges until further notice.

"I said no. Go away or ask Bruce."

"But Jaaaaaaay, it's just a teensy tiny favor. It won't even take an hour. Not with your skill at least."

"That kind of flattery may work on Harper and it may even work on West but I'm not an idiot about to get involved with whatever shenanigans you have planned with the human."

Dick lets out a long-suffering sigh. Jason isn't stupid enough to think that Dick has actually given up. No, the stubborn little fuck is worse than a barnacle. "You've left me no choice-"

"I have given you plenty of choices. Most of them involve minding your own goddamn business." Jason says with a little snuff.

"-I'm calling it in."

Jason narrows his eyes at Dick.

"Don't you dare. That was 5 years ago."

Dick smiles, evilly. "Unless you want the rest of the family to know about-"

"Fine! What do you want?"

Dick looks smug. Jason wants to bite his face off.

"I need you to help me catch fish."

Jason looks at him, incredulous. "Did you hit your head or something?"

"Not recently. Look, I just need you to help me catch fish for the human." Dick explains like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Contrary to what Dick seems to think, Jason really isn't concerned with the one human on the island. Most of the selkies on the island have barely even interacted with you outside of staring at you.

"You're insane."

"I think we reserve that term for Bruce."

Jason raises his head from the ground. "You're not wrong."

You think you hear the light pitter-patter of raindrops. You sigh. You would be lying if you say you aren't the least bit thankful for the excuse to stay indoors today. You... don't exactly like foraging for food. You had avoided it for as long as you had food in the lighthouse. You thought it would at least last you 'til the ships came in but whatever is going on in the mainland has kept the ships from your shores. You don't mind. You never did find the sailors all that pleasant on the rare occasions that you did have to interact with them.

You like your island the way it is but... you're not exactly the most skilled at hunting... or fishing. You have no idea how your father did it. You chucked it up to the miracles of loaves and fishes. You miss him.

You curl around your pillow in a vain attempt to chase the wakefulness away but the sun in your eyes was too bright. You flutter your eyes open. The sun had the audacity to be there. Still the splushing sound continued.

You strain your ears to listen, trying to make heads or tails of it. It was a squishy sound, the sound of putty hitting stone over and over again. You scramble to the front door. In hindsight, you probably should have grabbed a weapon before running towards the strange sound.

Opening the door, you're greeted with the sight of a familiar seal caught red-handed with a fish in his mouth.

You stare at each other for a long moment before your eyes wander down to a pile of fish. A large amount of fish. Laughter rolls from your lips, musical and manic as you bury your face in your hands.

You think the seal furrows his brow at you, dropping the fish in its mouth before plopping towards you. Plop. Plop. Plop. He looks at you with big dark eyes. Your mouth twitches between curling down into a frown and a smile that spread across your face. On one hand, you are confused. On the other hand, you were gonna be able eat some meat.

A concerned croon comes from the pup and your face decides that it would rather smile at the moment. You throw your arms around him, not at all caring about the seawater getting on your nightclothes.

"Thank you." You whisper and the seal answers with a happy trill.

Dick is over the moon.

He can't even help how loud his trills get. It's ok you don't seem to mind either. He's just happy that you get to eat now.... but you don't.

Dick's a little frustrated when you don't immediately start digging in. Instead, you go back inside your home, swear, shout in delight then come back out with a basin and a jar of white powder. You then run around to fill the basin with seawater then add what Dick finds out is salt into the seawater.

Dick is... concerned.

You go back inside the house. When you come out again, you have a knife in your hand. Dick waddles back a bit. He knows you won't hurt him but it's a habit. You develop these kinds of habits around Bruce.

You settle yourself onto the ground cross-legged and grab a fish. Dick looks on with mild curiosity. You begin to dismember the fish by cutting off it's head, cutting it up in the middle then removing the bones and stomach. That kind of makes sense, Dick thinks. The bones are kind of annoying. Dick nods his head agreeably until you toss the fish into the basin.

Dick looks on in utter confusion as you repeat the process with most of the fish he's brought you.

You turn to him looking equally befuddled before your eyes soften. You look sheepish. "Sorry pup, I can't eat all of this today so I'm salting them so I can eat them the next few..." You count the fish in the basin. "... weeks."

Dick tilts his head but doesn't say anything. You really should just eat more. Dick can get you more if you need it. You just need to ask but you seem content with what you're doing.

Dick is about to rest his head on your lap when you shoot up and scuttle back inside. You return with a line and a smile. Dick watches you string the fish up like laundry. He could probably help you but he has no clue if he should. Just eat the fish damn it.

Finally after what felt like forever, you start preparing the fish and actually eat. You offer Dick some and Dick has to admit cooking the fish does taste odd but not unpleasant. It's totally different from eating it raw (the better way) but it's not horrible. Or maybe it just tastes good because you've got the biggest grin on your face while eating.

Maybe.

Probably, Dick thinks as he munches on his fish, pressed to your side.

___

You sing at the top of your voice. It's a cheerful song but Dick can't quite make out the words. He knows it's human but he's not quite familiar with it. The tune is nice though. Dick rests his head on your lap closing his eyes.

He croons happily when you being to pet him.

You stop midway through the song dissolving into a fit, of what Dick can only describe as, giggles snorts. It was a despicably adorable sound that was engineered to make Dick feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside.

He looks up at you with big curious black eyes. He's not complaining but he hasn't heard you laugh this much before and he may or may not want to know how to make you laugh like this again.

When you don't answer his questioning gaze, Dick nudges against your chest. Your shoulders are still shaking but you manage to stop laughing for a moment.

"Sorry pup," you say wiping a tear from your eye, "I must look crazy to you. "

A little but not as bad as Bruce, Dick thinks. Bruce thinks you humans still don't know there are selkies on the island. Dick snorts at the idea. Everyone knows that all you humans know about selkies. That's why those men keep coming here trying to trap them.

You squish his face affectionately with your hands. "My dad taught me that song and I just realized..." Your mouth turns into a curved line of held back laughter. "...It's a sea shanty about missing being between a woman's legs." The last few words come out more as giggles than proper syllables but Dick can't enjoy that because he can feel his face warm up from the thought. He hides his face in his flippers.

You squeal, absolutely delighted with his mortification. Smiling down at him, you say: "Yanno pup, sometimes I think you understand me."

Thought process-wise, no.

Dick snuggles up to you again, blowing air out of his nose to voice his ascent. You can't just say things like that but again, you just simply seem amused by his suffering when you bend down to press a kiss to the top of his head.

Dick looks up when you pull away. No! Give him more!

Dick stretches up to return the favor, having to partially climb on your lap but only managing to boop your nose with his snout. You nuzzle your nose against his and Dick makes the happiest noise in the back of his throat.

Sometimes after wandering around you had a habit of falling asleep on the shore which Dick thought was fine until he found out that you couldn't swim. Dick being the only with brains in this duo always nudges you awake when the tide starts getting too close. Dick doubts the lapping water will wake you up before sweeping you away. After all, you managed to sleep through Tim, Kon, and Bart's rock piling contest on top of you. Dick shooed them away but even after cleaning up, you didn't wake up.

Dick sees the sailors on the shore and nudges you. You... don't even blink. You hum, content to bask in the sun as you wrap your arms around Dick. Dick huffs. He likes this but he really would prefer it if you move. Dick considers slipping from your grip and grabbing a fish to slap you with like last time.

Dick cranes his head to look at the ship again. It was far too close now, too close for you to get away without being seen by the sailors.

Dick turns you back over to your back and proceeds to body slam you with all his blubber. He winces when you make a choked noise. Dick can give you apology fish later.

"Pup, what the fuck?"

You see the ship. Your eyes widen then flicker to his injured fin. Dick had injured it when he’d been swimming by the docks and got caught in one of the old traps. You’ve done your best to help it heal but you only know so much. You’re still reading up on herbs in case it happens again.

You try in vain to push him off but he's a big loveable sack of blubber and he refuses to move. “C’mon pup, you need to move. They’ll try to catch you if they see you.” You grunt but the sack of blubber refuses to move.

You and Dick stay still as the ship draws near, neither of your chests rises or fall as the ship rocks back and forth.

The ship passes and you let your head fall back with a sigh.

Dick nuzzles his snout against your face, his whiskers tickling your face. You giggle and try to push him off. It’s useless so you let him stay there.

You both decide to take a nap on the shore with Dick huffing in your face once in a while as he snores.

You curl up on the floor in front of the fire, watching the embers flicker, flash, and fade. It's the best thing you can do to calm your fraying nerves. The storm rages outside violently as if it was trying to tear the lighthouse down brick by brick. The whole building shakes with another boom of thunder. You close your eyes and burrow under the thick blanket.

In the back of your mind, your father is chuckling. The absence of a hand on your head is disconcerting. You remind yourself that it won't come, that you'll have to learn to weather the storm alone. You sigh then tighten the blanket around you.

Tok. Tok. Tok.

You blink. The fire was dying. When had you fallen asleep?

Tok, tok, tok.

Blinking, you rub the sleep from your eyes, but the haze doesn’t lift, only growing as you watch the firelight.

Tok tok tok.

You shoot up and barrel towards the door with the frantic knocking growing louder and louder as your feet pound against the stone floor.

You run into the door in your haste. The loud thud of your body against the door causes the frantic knocks to turn into muffled shouting.

Prying yourself from the door, you open it and you don't know what you expected but this wasn't it.

Standing in front of you was a man soaked like a wet rat. You blink in confusion before pulling him inside. You run to grab him a blanket. Wait. You should probably get him a towel. No, wait. You should have gotten his name first. Fuck.

You shuffle back into the room with a towel, spare clothes, and an extra blanket. You.. what can generously be called a heart attack.

For the first time, in the soft glow of the fire, you can fully admire your guest. Not see, admire because there was a lot to admire.

The light of the fire flicking over the planes of his chest, with a light dusting of chest hair, the amber glow highlighting all the muscles of his body, framing the ripples of his toned figure. Swallowing any good sense you have, you watch the rainwater turn golden as it drips down his perfectly bronzed skin. The water cuts through valleys of muscle that could have only been handcrafted by gods. Your eyes follow the flow until... Oh.

You flush furiously, your face glowing brighter than the fire. He's- He's- Oh my god, he's naked.

You reign your eyes in. Ok, you let it linger down there a bit. Not long enough for your guest to notice. You concentrate on his face which wasn't hard to do. The man pushes his raven hair out of his face letting you fully appreciate his face. In keeping with his body, his fine boned face looked like Pygmalion himself spent hours shaping it, not satisfied until he's made the perfect face. It's handsome in an adorable way. Not intimidating. It's the kind of face you'd like to pepper with kisses. You try not to focus on his lips in case of any sinful thoughts. You just met the man. The only thing you will note is that yes, his lips do look absolutely kissable and it aggravates you.

The most striking feature however are his deep blue eyes. The kind of deep that you feel like you could drown in. The kind of depth that looked too pretty to agonize over the fact that your lungs are burning. You stare, trying to carve a perfect replica of those eyes into your mind. Those eyes... that are currently staring at you... as he steps closer... at an alarming speed.

You hold the stack of fabric in front of you like a shield. Your guest stops, looking at the stack. His face goes from concern to confusion to blinding enthusiasm. He was probably freezing.

A smile spreads on his face, the cutest dimples you've ever seen forming on his cheeks, as he accepts the stack. He thanks you and your heart leaps from your chest. Whatever chill you were experiencing from the storm was completely gone. You turn away from him, rubbing the back of your neck and mumbling a halfway point between 'no problem' and 'you're welcome'. You hope it came out as 'no welcome' instead of 'your problem'.

The man snorts and you are pretty sure which one came out. To save yourself the embarrassment, you walk to the kitchen and start preparing tea. The man thankfully occupies himself by looking at the assortment of knick-knacks you've hoarded gathered over the years. It gives you ample time to breathe.

"Do you like sugar in your tea?"

The man nods enthusiastically. You can't help but smile a little.

You sit next to him in front of the fireplace as you hand him his mug. He leans his head against your shoulder. You can feel his body radiating a comforting heat.

You two sit in silence, sipping tea and watching the fire flicker. You wanna scold him for slurping his tea. You're not exactly his mother. You don't even know his name.

You turn to him, face scrunched and about to ask him for his name when he surges forward. His lips brush against your lips as he nudges his nose against yours. You fall backward in shock and the stranger falls on top of you, his eyes still glowing bright and cool against the amber light.

There's a thrill working up your spine or is it fear? You squeeze your eyes shut and throw your arms over your face.

"Please don't hurt me." You plead barely above a whisper.

You feel the body above you lower itself on top of you. He chuckles and shakes his head. "(Y/n), you're being silly."

You open your eyes. The man is laying his body on top of you keeping you pinned down and he's... pouting at you?

"I- I don't know who you are. You can take what you want but please don't hurt me."

The pout deepens into a frown.

"(Y/n), I'm not gonna hurt you. Don't you recognize me?"

You blink. You would definitely remember someone this eye-catching. "You always sing that sea shanty to me. The one about the sailor who misses his wife's..." The stranger flushes and makes a hand gesture. Your face scrunches again. The only person you've sung that to aside from your dad is...

"Pup?!"

His frown morphs back into a pout. "I'm not even that little."

You squish his face with your hands before you let your mind wander. You think back to the scars crisscrossing his limbs and chest. "How is this possible?"

He laughs, prying your hands from his face. "I'm a selkie," He says as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. "My name is also Dick, not pup."

You stare up at him wide-eyed and stupefied. Dick snuggles against you like he always does. Somehow snuggling you in this form is better. He can hold you closer like this. You run your hand through his hair, fingers lacing through the tangles in his hair. He lets out an excited trill.

Dick might just be in heaven right now.

"I dunno how but you're somehow even prettier when I look at you in this form," Dick breathes contently. "I'm so lucky to have such a pretty wife."

You stiffen. Dick looks up at you and the confusion in your face wrenches a knife in his heart. He swallows. "That is what you meant with this, right?" Dick asks, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

Your mouth turns into various shapes trying to piece together a coherent response. It settles on the simplest one. "No."

Dick looks stricken like you'd taken a club to his head.

You reel back. "I just- I- I thought you were cold and you-"

Dick's heartaches. It's a dull ache. He thought this kind of thing would be sharp like having a hook pierce your heart.

His insides twist as he peels of you.

Your stomach sinks as you feel the cold fill your body once more. You don’t want him to go. The thought of being alone right now makes your stomach curdle. Your hands grip his shirt without meaning to. The look on his face hurts but the idea of him leaving felt unbearable. You know it's selfish but here you are begging him not to leave.

"Dick, I'm sorry... I didn't know... I-"

Thunder booms. You squeak and bury your face in his chest. You can't stand storms.

Dick smiles down at you softly. It's still pained but it's bearable.

He lays on his side and pulls you closer. He slots your face into his neck. You're still shivering even when he uses his body to shield you from the rest of the world.

You whisper another apology.

Dick shushes you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

The sunlight floods into the room like it does every morning but the room is still cold. Your mind works to understand what's wrong with this picture. Your hand pads beside you. The space next to you is empty save for the blanket left behind.

You sniffle, gripping the sheet in your hand. You messed up, you think, pulling it to your face. For the first time in months, the tears come easily. You lay there all day because the tears won't stop.

"If you sigh one more time, I am going to rip your throat out." Jason growls not bothering to open his eyes. Why would he? Dick has been flat and mopey for the past two weeks and Jason is really starting to miss his hyperactivity.

Dick lets out another mopey sigh. Jason. Is. Going. To. Scream.

"Can't you be depressing in Roy's direction? Or Bruce's?"

Dick sighs even louder at the mention of Bruce and Jason, for once, is considering murder or at least maiming.

"She doesn't love me back."Dick sniffles and Jason really should have known this had something to do with you.

He turns to Dick. "I'm going to regret asking but how do you know that?" The sooner he sorts Dick out, the sooner he gets to sleep. "Did she tell you to go away and never come back?"

"Well no-"

It's Jason's turn to sigh. "You fucking moron, What did she even say?"

"She said she didn't know." Dick lowers his head to the sand and Jason wants to slap him with his tail.

Jason is now fully awake and very ready to throttle Dick. Or he's just cranky. "Are you telling me Bruce was right?! This day just keeps getting worse."

Something seems to click in Dick's brain. "Oh, crap Bruce is right." He mutters stupidly.

Jason will take whatever consolation he can get out of this. "She probably thought you were just some random pervert flashing her then." Jason snickers. It's petty and childish but so is interrupting a well-deserved nap.

"What?"

Jason lets out an exasperated huff through his snout. He twists his body to look at Dick with minimal effort to lift his head. "Let's see, you turned up naked at her door and then you called her your wife and nearly kissed her in what? The space of 15 minutes?"

"I got confused." Dick sputters.

"Geez, I thought West was bad but you're just a disaster," Jason chuckles, "Oh! And you made the brilliant decision to leave without explanation," Jason is having far too much fun rubbing salt in the wound. "She probably feels terrible”.

"Are you guilt-tripping me?"

"Is it working?"

"What-" Dick growls. "Well, what do you want me to do?"

"Hmmmmm, have you tried talking? Yanno the thing Bruce never does. But seriously, I can’t believe you call her your wife and then abandon her." Jason shakes his head. "And you have the audacity to call yourself the smart one."

Dick strips out of his skin and begins running towards the lighthouse... naked.

Jason debates on letting him.... he probably shouldn't.

"Dickface!" Jason calls out.

Dick doesn't stop, face crumpled in determination and his little Richard swinging wildly as he walks.

Jason is gonna die of second-hand embarrassment.

"DICKFACE!"

"What?!" Dick asks turning around his hands on his hips. Like usual, his hip tilts to the side and his foot taps as he waits expectantly for Jason to gather a mildly coherent response.

"Your little Richard..." Jason says pointing with his fin.

Dick looks down and the look of mortification on his face is satisfactory. ".... Right. Shit."

"Just steal some from her laundry."

"But she'll be pissed."

"Ok, so you would rather flash her then?"

Dick sighs and this time Jason doesn't have the urge to throttle him only because Dick is already beating his own ego into a pulp. "I hate it when you make sense."

Jason raises a brow, setting his head back down to the warm sand. "I always make sense."

Dick just cackles in response as he heads to the lighthouse.

Dick shifts his weight on the balls of his feet. He feels sick like he'd eaten one of those pickled fish you made him one time. Maybe this was a bad idea. Why did he even listen to Jason? He flips onto his hands and begins to pace. His stomach feels like it's being tossed violently by ocean currents. It feels like a shapeless lump sitting in the pit of his abdomen. Maybe you're out or maybe you never wanna see him again.

Your face had been so blown wide with shock when he had called you wife that it looked almost foreign like the suggestion had been so audacious that your face had to reconstruct itself to accommodate the shock.

Dick puts a hand to his face trying to stem the flow of thought. He was such an idiot. Why did he assume you would love him like that and why did he just leave you? Dick closes his eyes and breathes. He'll knock just once more then leave if you don't answer.

Tok. Tok. Tok.

The knocks register just above a whisper. He thinks you don't hear it.

He lets out a breath and walks away. This was stupid. He should never have come back.

Jason was right. Fuck. Dick buries his face as he walks away.

Distantly, Dick hears the squeak of rusty hinges but it's lost in the tempest of thoughts plaguing his mind, in all the little hurts from that night.

"Pup?" The sound of your voice is followed by the pounding of your feet against stand. Dick's careening to the ground before he knows it as your body collides with his.

"Pup," you sniffle into his shirt, "it is you."

Dick twist in your grip so he's facing you. Your face is buried in his shirt. He strokes your hair, wrapping an arm around you, holding you tight. "Of course, it’s me. Who else would bug you at this hour?"

Dick feels his shirt grow warm. You mumble an apology.

You look up to face Dick with half your face still buried in his shirt. You've clearly been crying based on how red and puffy your eyes are. Dick's stomach churns at the dark circles under your eyes. He feels guilt stab him in the gut. All of that combined with your generally disheveled appearance. Dick can just tell that you haven't slept well the last few days.

"Let's go inside and talk." You say, peeling yourself off of him.

Dick shakes his head, not loosening his grip on your midsection. "Let's walk around you look like you need some sun."

You flushed and put a hand to your cheek. "Do I look that bad?" You ask absently, a shy smile creeping into your features.

Dick smiles at you and pushes your hair out of your face. "Never but the weather is sunny for once and we both need some air."

"So you really didn't know that the island was filled with selkies?" Dick asks, adjusting the infernal scarf you had forced him into. He insisted that he didn't need it. He could just cuddle up to you for warmth but you were equally stubborn about him wearing a coat and the wool monstrosity strangling him.

Your face scrunches up in confusion." I- I don't even know what that is."

Dick stops.

You slow down upon realizing he wasn't by your side anymore. "You... don't know what a selkie is?" He asks, his face the definition of dumbstruck.

You shrink into your coat." My dad wasn't interested in things like that," you shrug, "I dunno much about..." Your hand twists in a circle, reaching for the right words.

Dick tilts his head. That made sense. "You thought we were all just seals?"

You nod slowly, looking like you wanna shrivel up.

Dick starts laughing and you look like you're a second away from throwing yourself into the water.

"I'm sorry," he says, flailing. He's screwing this up again. He breathes to collect himself. "I just thought it's funny that we all thought my dad was wrong about you guys not knowing."

You rub the back of your neck. "Most of us mainlanders don't really believe in magic, yanno? It's just such a foreign concept. Kind of hard to wrap my head around it."

"I get that." The smile on his face makes your gut twist. You fiddle with your hands.

"So what are selkies?"

Dick tilts his head, not exactly sure of how to word it because how do you explain something that's been obvious to you since you can remember to someone who just found out about it a few weeks ago?

"We're fae, I guess-" Your face twists in confusion.

Dick needs to backtrack. "We're fae..." This is hard. "We have this human form and we have our seal forms. We switch between them using our pelt."

Your brow knits in confusion. "Which one is your true form then?"

Dick wraps his arm around your waist and holds you closer as you walk along the cliff tops. He hums as he thinks. "Both?"

You look up at him with a weary smile. “That makes sense in a way.” You hum. Swallowing thickly, you fiddle with your hands. "So what was with the... um..." You clear your throat. "What was with the wife thing?"

Dick’s mouth dries. “Well... when we want to ask someone to be our mate... we- we kind of give them our pelt and I thought it translated to human clothes…” He stammers out dumbly.

“Oh...oh!” Your eyes widen into a look of horror. You open and close your mouth trying to form words. “Dick, I didn’t realize , that must have - I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“Please don’t apologize,” Dick says and presses his lips to the top of your head. His lips are warm and comforting. “I’ve spent so long in love with you my brain just didn’t...” Dick’s mouth twists. “It just didn’t do what it was supposed to.”

You would definitely laugh at that last part but you’re still seeing stars from the startling confession he just hit you with. You snuggle tighter into his embrace as you look over the sea. You don’t know how to respond. You really don’t and it frustrates you. It was all just a lot to take in all at once like you’d been tossed into the sea and you’re flailing and grasping at water.

But if nothing else, you’re at least glad that Dick is still talking to you.

“If you don't mind…” Dick says carefully, the look in his eyes determined. “Would it be alright if I try and pursue you properly?” Dick braces for a no. He’s not dumb enough to be hopeful twice but he needs to ask.

Inevitably, you freeze. You pull his arm closer to your chest. Swallowing, you ask: “you mean like a human courtship?”

He nods closing his eyes. “Yes, I want to court you.” He coughs clearing his throat.

You’re silent for what felt like the longest 30 seconds of Dick’s life. Dick cracks one eye to see you fiddling with your hair. “Uh Dick, there’s this one problem that might make that difficult…” Dick raises a brow. It wasn’t an outright rejection but it wasn’t an answer.

“I don't know how that works either.” You laugh nervously, burying your face in his arm.

“Good - then we don’t know if I’m doing it badly.” Dick beams with a blinding smile.

You twist to look at him, the corners of your mouth twitching. “That sounds like cheating.”

Dick snorts, “would you rather I court you the selkie way?”

“I mean it depends. What's the selkie way?”

“Fish.”

Dick startles when you let out a loud bark of laughter. “Fish? You’ve already done that so many times.” You giggle. Dick tries to wrangle his mind away from the fact that he can feel your lips through the thin fabric of the sweater.

“I thought it worked.” Dick sighs. He really did, but alas, miscommunication is a cruel mistress.

You lower your gaze trying to concentrate on the fraying needlework of his sweater. “Maybe it has.” You mumble low enough for a human not to hear. How unfortunate it is then that you’re dealing with a selkie.

Dick is beaming when you look up again. He nuzzles his face against yours. Dick is once again insanely, stupidly, incredibly happy.

__________________________________________________________________________

Because neither of you knew what you were doing, Dick's attempts to court you ranged from ridiculous (a literal mountain of fish that you ended up drying, giving away to the other seals, and selling to passing ships.) to ridiculously sweet (finding you handful of pearls). Dick nudged a little shell overflowing with pearls and looked up at you with liquid eyes. He could have gotten you pebbles and it would have been endearing.

It wasn't always gifts though.

Sometimes Dick would just sit quietly with you on the beach, snuggling against your leg as you scratched his stomach. You love the ways his squish vibrated as he purred.

When summer passed and it became unbearable to watch the stars outside, Dick sometimes spent nights in your lighthouse, wrapped up in your sheets or wrapped around you. It was nice having him around the house even if he was kind of a slob. You love him but he is a mess.

You made the mistake of introducing him to tea cakes and got him addicted to November Cakes specifically. As it turns out, your cute pest has a sweet tooth and will nuzzle you into submission just for another bite.

If you ever doubted that Dick was evil before, you now have proof.

During the winter, Dick insisted on staying in the lighthouse to keep you warm. You wanted to point out that you had a fireplace for a reason but it was so hard to turn down hugs from him.

And because you hadn't had the heart to clean out your father's room yet and Dick clearly preferred it, you let Dick sleep next to you on your cot. You felt a bit bad but Dick was just so happy with the arrangement that you didn't want to make him go away. Besides, it was nice to wake up to his sleeping face in the morning, all sleep rumpled and drooling.

__________________________________________________________________________

"Hey Jay, do you have a book on selkies?" Dick asks, caterpillaring on the rock Jason is sunbathing on.

Jason takes the opportunity to roll down the rock and knock Dick into the sea before saying: "No." It shall be put on record that there are no drama queens in the Wayne family.

Dick shakes off the seawater, big puppy eyes staring at Jason.

Jason glares at him. He can't even let Jason have a second of smugness. "Ask Selina."

No one really knows where Selina came from or why she stayed (well, they had their suspicions), but if you need something you can't find easily, your best bet was to ask her and hope she doesn't ask you to do anything ridiculously hard.

Dick hasn't had first hand experience but from what Bruce tells him, they're mostly silly things like recite poems or do a flip. He could do both those things. Well, depending on the poem. He gets tongue twisted sometimes. Hmmm, maybe he should ask if he can avoid tongue twisters so he won't bite his tongue.

Sloughing off his coat, Dick walks towards the glowing cauldron.

"Still no clothes pup? You're going to give a poor girl a heart attack." Selina tsked, reappearing from one of the other cave entrances with a handful of things Dick can't recognize.

"Oh... I- I'm still not used to it." He says sheepishly.

Selina chuckles, dumping the handful of what Dick can assume is plant debris into the cauldron while before dusting her hands off.

Dick stares at the thick vat. A bubble rises and bursts emitting what sounded like a human voice. "What is that? Should I be worried?"

"Oh no, no, this? This is just a little soup for colds."

"It screamed."

"All soups scream."

"I- anyway, I came here to ask if you have a book on selkies."

Selina tilts her head to the side. "I believe I do-"

"Great!"

"Buuuut..."

Of course, the price.

"I brought pearls and some seashells." He says hopefully.

The angle of her head does not change. Though from the gleam in her eyes, she's clearly interested.

"Tell me why you need the book."

Dick's thoughts halt. Should he tell Selina about you? His eyes dart to the boiling cauldron. "... Why do you need to know?"

Selina flourishes her hand. The book appears out of thin air."Do you want the book or not, pup?"

Dick's nerves pinch. Why does everyone call him that? "I need it to teach someone Selkie customs." He manages.

"Oh! The little lighthouse keeper!"

"You know her?"

Selina shrugs. "Do you really think I wouldn't know something going on about the islands nearby?" She pinches his cheek. "Oh little pup, I know about your little crush. You spend more time on land than you do in the sea these days. Dami's been all huffy about it."

He has.

"I've told you my reason." Dick says holding his hand out.

"Hnnnn, you have I suppose." Selina sighs.

Dick takes the book, putting it into a waterproof pouch before gingerly putting his pelt back on. He happily caterpillars out of the cave with the pouch in his mouth. He really hopes you'll like this.

You really should just fix up another cot for Dick at this point and maybe buy him a set of clothes when you go to town.

"It's too cold to sleep outside." Dick whines, flattening himself against you on the bed.

You lift your book to look at him. Dick just gives you that wide-eyed look when he wants something. You roll your eyes, letting him snuggle up to you. "Dick, it is obviously summer and you're like 40% blubber." You snort.

Dick pouts. "You're still gonna let me sleep here."

You scrunch your face up and sigh. "I can't exactly let you brace the summer cold, can I?" You say, running a hand through his hair.

"Eeeeeexactly." Dick says happily as snuggles into you tightly. He nuzzles his face into your neck wrapping his arms around your waist. You hum helplessly, curling into his embrace.

"See." Dick trills with a happy grin.

"Are you going to be smug about it all night?" You huff, throwing a blanket over the two of you.

"No," he says, "you assume I can't keep being smug 'til sunrise."

"Dork," you snicker, setting the book down. It was a book on selkie traditions that Dick had gotten you a few days ago. You devoured it the same night but you're reading it again and subtly testing things while Dick was invading your house. You hum, running your hand through his hair, fingernails lightly scraping against his scalp. Dick purrs against your chest. "There was a one eyed seal on the beach the other day. He was a grumpy fellow but kind of cute. Seals really are a sleepy lot. The big lug started snoozing on my lap after like 5 minutes."

Dick tense under your touch. He looks up at you seriously.

"That was a selkie." Dick deadpans.

You stop your rambling. "What?!"

"That grumpy one-eyed seal was a selkie." He repeats carefully.

Your breath stutters. "Are all of the seals on this island selkies? ALL OF THEM?" Dick is pretty sure your eyes are mounting an escape.

"All of them, darling." Dick nods.

"Oh." You are so screwed. "Do you guys all talk to each other?!" You shouldn't have told that seal about your little crush. You want the mattress to swallow you up.

"Yes? Should I be concerned?" Dick asks, lifting his head.

"No! No reason!" You squeal, shaking your head.

Dick pouts at you with suspicion. It occurs to you with some amusement that Dick is actually glaring. You wisely decide to sidestep the conversation.

"You guys love taking naps on people, huh?" You say, absently twining your fingers into Dick's hair. He settles his head against your chest. "That's just cus we like you." He hums.

A snort rips out of you. "You're just biased."

Dick looks up at you seriously again. "We selkies like pretty things like any fae." Dick says, wrapping his arms around you more tightly. He's being petty but Dick has always been protective of you and he isn't about to stop now. Besides... he doesn't want anyone stealing you away.

You frown at him. "Dick, there are far prettier things on this island and sweet talking won’t magically make November cakes appear." You huff, kissing the top of his head before picking up the book and using it to hide the smile shaping your lips.

You feel Dick pick himself up off of you. You peek over your book to watch Dick. He scoots closer to your face until the only thing separating you is the far too thin book in your hands.

"You don't believe me, do you?"

"No." You say. You don't mean it but it's the easiest thing to conjure up when Dick is this close. Your lips prickle from imagining Dick's lips against yours.

You weren't paying attention. Dick has apparently been going on a two-minute diatribe on how pretty you are and in that two minutes, Dick has managed to scoot even closer. He gently takes the book out of your hands to make sure you're paying attention. He fails to take into account the fact that his face is in fact distracting. Your eyes zero in on his very plush and very kissable lips. If you just lean forward a fraction, you could...

Your lips feel warm and soft against Dick's, the rest of his diatribe dying in the back of his throat as his eyes flutter shut. His mind might just be melting out of his ears because the only thing he can think about is how soft you are and how perfectly your lips fit against his.

"I'm sorry." You whisper shyly. You should be sorry, Dick thinks. Who told you to pull away?

You touch your fingers to your lips. Fuck, what did you just do?

"You can do it again." Please, he almost adds.

You lick your lips. Dick perks up and leans closer. His heart is going to leap out of his chest. You lean closer. Dick can feel his heart pounding against his rib cage.

You kiss Dick on the nose and pull away, hiding your lips behind your hand as you snicker. Dick scrunches his nose and blows air out of it.

"You know perfectly well what I meant." He huffs.

You lean back into your pillow, grinning at him. "I have absolutely no clue what you're on about." You say slowly, smug.

"Let me remind you then,"A grin takes over his face. Dick leans in, pressing his lips against yours. You exchange breaths as you drink in the feeling of each other's lips. Dick caresses your sides. He feels you shiver and he smiles into your lips. "That ring any bells?"

"Not really..." You say, flickering your eyes to him. "But if you try again... it might."

"Oh sweetheart, I can keep reminding you all night." Dick chuckles, winking.

Covering your face, you attempt to hide your embarrassment. You hate how easily he flusters you. "You can't just say stuff like that." You whimper.

"Why not? I'm supposed to be courting you and that includes buttering you up," Dick says, nuzzling your cheek. You're just too cute. Dick gently pries your hands away from your face. "Don't hide your face from me, Honey."

"Oh god, you're making me regret letting you court me."

"Never."

______________________________________________________________________

Dick's eyes are struggling to remain open as he watches the fire. He burrows further into the thick comforter you'd given him. It's not quite as warm as his pelt but the fabric is puffy and it has a sweet smell that makes his head swim.

Dick angles his head slightly to watch you. You've been toiling for hours and refuse to tell Dick what it is. Your back is still hunched over with your foot bouncing on the floor. Dick lets his eyes flutter shut, listening to the sound of your shuffling tools.

You glance down at the adorable mess dozing off on your sofa. You gently move his hair out of his face. He swats at you sleepily, face scrunched even as he sleeps. You sincerely wish you had Damian's talent for art or that you had one of those cameras. You really wish you could keep a picture of Dick's sleepy face. It's the cutest thing in the world.

"Hey Dickie," you whisper.

"Hmmmmm?" He groans.

"Could you hand me your pelt?"

"Sure," he moans, blindly padding around for it. You snort as he nearly falls off the sofa. After groping nearly every surface, he finally finds the pelt. "here you-"

The fur brushes your fingertips before Dick stops. Dick shoots up, nearly clipping your nose with his forehead. He's looking at you fully awake, drool still hanging off the corner of his lips."Are you sure?!"

"Hand it over coward." You smile gently at him. You try your best to fight off the excitement bubbling in your veins.

Dick is off the couch, his own excitement barely contained as his whole body vibrates with happiness. He sits up. You hold out your hand but instead of handing you his pelt, Dick drapes it over you like a wedding veil. It's thick and warm to the touch. You let your hands brush over the silken fur. You can feel magic thrumming from it. It feels like a minute current of electricity but it doesn't flow linearly. It ebbs and flows as it pleases, pulsing beneath your fingers. You burrow yourself in it.

Something warm spills in Dick's chest as he sees you wrapped up in his pelt. Dick kisses your nose. "You have now been wifed."

You twitch your nose. "You missed."

"Nope. Don't think so. Buuuuut if you show me where you want me to kiss you..."

You roll your eyes and surge forward, pressing your lips to his. Dick smiles into it, pulling you close and savoring the sensation of your lips melding together. He makes a happy trilling noise while you laugh against his lips.

"That clear enough, Dickie?" You ask, pressing your forehead against his.

"Yeah, I think I got it, wifey."

__________________________________________________________

THANKS FOR READING

Tag list: @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish , @birdy-bat-writes, @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red @ marshmallow12435 @vvipgot7be @jadedhillon

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson x you #dick grayson #dorks #seals #selkie x reader #selkie au

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ficsforfundota · 2 years ago

Text

Surprising the Campers - Witcher Summer Camp Day 5 SFW prompt fill Swim

—

Jaskier smiled big as Yennefer approached him before the days activity. “Jaskier, I need your help with something special today.”

“What exactly can I help you with?” Jaskier asked with a grin.

“Well,” she began, “since you’re the newest counselor this year and the kids have yet to go swimming with you I was thinking you could go in the water a bit before the kids go swimming and wear something special.”

“What’s this special swim suit?” He asked. She grinned and pulled out a mermaid tail. It was pretty and blue green. “Is that a mermaid tail?”

“The little ones would love it, we can come up with an elaborate story for them about how when you’re wet you don’t always turn into a mer. It’s like a special occasion thing because you’re only half mermaid.”

Jaskier nodded. “I can do that. Give it here.” She smiled and nodded to him. He sat in his tent wiggling it on till he finished. “This look right?”

She stepped in and smiled. “They’re going to love this. The little ones especially.”

He smirked. “Now… how am I to get ti the lake as a fish man?”

“Merman,” she corrected with a giggle. “I’ll go get one of the boys to carry you.”

Jaskier stiffened a bit. All three of the brothers were attractive. While Lambert and Eskel were attractive he specifically found Geralt the most attractive and the one he was watching in hopes of a further relationship.

Eskel stepped in. “Well seems I found myself a catch.” He laughed with a big smile on his face. He hoisted Jaskier up and carried him towards the lake. “Ready fishy?”

Jaskier nodded his face red as Eskel plopped him into the lake. Jaskier practiced his swimming in the tail but he was a natural. “You have one of these at home?” Lambert asked stepping beside his brother to watch the fake merman.

“If I said I did would you be surprised?” Jaskier asked eyeing his team counterpart. Lambert shook his head.

“Not after the things I’ve heard you say or the way you do some stuff it wouldn’t.” Lambert remarked.

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.” Jaskier called back with a laugh in his voice as he swam about the lake. “The kids are going to love this.”

Lambert only nodded. “I think someone else will too.” Eskel whispered to Lambert. Lambert laughed, the two had observed their brother Geralt watching the new counselor with heart eyes and reddened cheeks.

Jaskier was splashing when he heard the kids coming. He sat up on the dock and the younger group b-lined for him. Their youngest camper, Ciri, jumped into his arms. He chucked and held her tightly.

“You’re a mermaid!” She exclaimed. He nodded and hugged her as Geralt came around the corner with the older group. He stopped dead seeing Jaskier looking the way he did while holding onto his adopted child.

He cleared his throat and followed the group towards him. Yennefer stood up with a smile her swimsuit body fitting but beautiful.

“Now kids, we need to help keep Jaskier’s secret. He is half mermaid, that also means he doesn’t always turn into a mermaid when he swims. It-“

“It’s a special thing I can control,” Jaskier smiled, “because I’m half mermaid on my mothers side.” He looked up at her with sparkling blue eyes.

“So throwing water balloons at you won’t make you turn?” An eight year old asked.

Jaskier laughed out loud. “No kiddo, it won’t. I have to prepare for it. Spend at least an hour in the water before transformation and I have to be calm and relaxed. So water balloons and squirt guns won’t just force a change.”

A few or the more mischievous kids groaned, they wanted to see how many popsicles they could offer Lambert to throw an unsuspecting Jaskier in the water to see if her would turn.

One child mumbled. “H20 just add water is a joke. Mermaids don’t just turn when wet, what about washing your hands?”

Yennefer snickered hearing them grumble.

“Alright now into the water! Let’s go swim!”

The kids all jumped in. Jaskier swam about beside them, going below surface and returning with rocks and the like. “Convincing merman isn’t he?” Eskel asked his white haired brother who was watching him with big eyes.

“I mean yeah for the kids.” Geralt muttered his eyes never leaving Jaskier’s frame.

“Cute isn’t he?”

“You think he’s attractive?” Geralt asked worried he would have to fend his brother off from his forming crush.

“I mean he’s cute. A hottie in a mermaid tail, good with kids. Sings and plays guitar like a muse. Who wouldn’t find him adorable.”

Geralt grunted. “He’s kind and sweet. Good heart.”

“I knew it.” Eskel chuckled. “You do have a crush.”

“Do not.” Geralt grunted.

“Do too!” Eskel shouted pushing his shoulder. The two began to push one another back and forth until Lambert joined in and both Eskel and Lambert picked Geralt up. “Why don’t you go swim with your new boyfriend!”

Geralt yelped as he was thrown in the lake with a splash. The brothers sat side by side arms crossed as Geralt resurfaced his hair plastered to his face. “Go get him wolfy.” Lambert laughed as they pointed towards Jaskier who was giving the kids rides on his back.

Yennefer was smiling big, she was glad the tail didn’t fit her like she had planned. Jaskier was a great addition to their team.

Geralt watched him with wonder as the kids laughed and clung to him. Even the older group of kids were interested in the tail regardless if they believed the story or not.

Geralt was flustered. He lined Jaskier a lot but this was only week two of camp. He didn’t know if he could confess his love to him while he was dressed as a mermaid. Ciri swam up to Geralt her floaties keeping her upright. “Jaskier is so pretty.” She said with a big gap toothed smile. Geralt grinned at the six year old and pulled her into him.

“You’re right Ciri he is.”

—

For @witchersummercamp

#witchersummercamp #Witcher #Jaskier #Geralt #lambert #Eskel #witcher yennefer #cirilla fiona elen riannon #merman #mermaid #summer camp AU

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waywardsummoner46 · 3 years ago

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(Un)Pleasantville

A/N: Second one shot, yay! Definitely toying with expanding this as well as my Lucifer!Sam and Michael!Dean fic. I’m open to requests and let me know if you want to be added to my tag list (never had one before, oo this is exciting). As ever enjoy the fic and let me know what you think!

Word count ~ 1620

______________________________________________________________

Alright so, not to sugar coat anything but this was an absolute nightmare.

You, Sam and Castiel had gotten word of a hunt - well more Sam but that’s besides the point - and had left yesterday. You’d paused at a gas station outside of a place called Charming Acres but the dude at the counter said something was off about the place… so naturally (or supernaturally) you all went to check it out. And a dude’s head just completely blew up out of the blue after he came in for his phone?

Pulling into the town itself, now that was something. You felt as though you’d walked into a 1950s sitcom about some cheesy, lovesick marriage story. Something that you’d like to stay well away from. Consequently, you met a cheesy, lovesick couple called Justin and Cindy Smith who said they’d heard absolute zilch about any deaths and “this is a very close-knit community, nothing goes on here without everyone knowing” blah blah blah.

Anyway, the strangest thing for you wasn’t the clothes, nor was it the 1950s behaviour, no, it was the fact Justin didn’t seem to recognise what a phone was. You silently ogled at him but he paid no attention to you. So now you definitely thought something was off about this place.

After that fateful encounter, you all stumbled upon the local diner “Harrington’s” who was run by the Mayor Chip Harrington and his daughter Sunny. You thought Sunny was a very sweet young woman who honestly looked like someone you’d get along with, however you noticed her head perked up once conversation about Conrad (watermelon head guy) started. Castiel so delicately stated, “Oh no! His head exploded” rendering everyone in the diner speechless.

The Mayor stuttered for a moment then questioned “Excuse me?”

“Like a ripe melon in the sun.”

Whilst this confrontation was happening, Sunny gave you and Sam milkshakes, as Cas had refused earlier, so you were busy trying not to spit it out as you found that conversation hilarious. Chippy boy gave you the information where Conrad was last seen and then you all took off but not before Sam abruptly said “Alright, you know what? We’re leaving, bye.” And that was that.

When you’d all arrived at the boarding house, a too cheerful Ms. Dowling greeted you at the door, and creepily said she knew you were coming because it’s a small town and things travel fast. Honestly, what is it with these people? From there, and after a brief explanation on why you all were there, she showed you to Conrad’s room and said he moved in a few weeks ago.

Being your observant self, you came to the conclusion that the bed had been barely used but there were passionate and just plain disgusting letters under the mattress addressed from Sunny (so maybe she wasn’t so innocent, neither were you).

At the same time Sam suggested you all stay overnight and divulge and investigate more thoroughly in the morning and yet his almost desperate tone of voice put you on edge. Obviously, you were all tired and weary but Sam was just on a whole new level of “oh this is amazing, we should stay here because it’s so cool”. So reluctantly, you and Cas agreed but not before exchanging an uncertain glance with each other, the intuition of a teenager and an angel right?

Sam and you were sharing a room since Cas had insisted on his own, and instantly something changed with how he addressed you. “(Y/N), please take your shoes off, you’ll ruin this lovely carpet,” and “(Y/N), sweetheart, don’t you think wearing something a little more lady-like would be more appropriate, hm?”

All you could do what was sit and stare because not once had Sam ever been this pedantic or pathetic and he certainly had never called you “sweetheart”, so too baffled to engage in intelligent conversation, you went to bed just after Sam as you were too busy burning incredulous holes into the back if his hairy head. Struggling to grasp sleep, you softly whispered a “What the fuck?” and thank god Sam didn’t hear you because you would’ve absolutely hated the outcome.

The next morning you were woken up quite rudely by an angel banging on your door. Blearily you struggled out of bed and opened the door, rubbing your eyes. “What time is it?” You said.

“Time to get up, get dressed and Sam-Sam?”

Noting Castiel’s confusion, you turned quickly in what was once Sam’s direction only to find your lovable older brother had disappeared to Chuck knows where. Great, man hunt at ridiculous o’clock in the morning. Cas immediately raced down to the stairs to seemingly find Ms. Dowling leaving you rushing to change into something more appropriate that pyjamas.

Descending the stairs you notice the front door open and a frantic looking Castiel waiting in the Impala, waving for you to get in. Shouting a quick “thank you!” to Ms. Dowling, you sprant for the car and sat in Sam’s seat.

Castiel started the car and you asked “So? We know where he went?”

“I’ve been told he left this morning saying he was going on a walk to the diner and wanted a milkshake, but only after screaming at Ms. Dowling who had her eardrums blocked with ear plugs,” he said. You nodded, absorbing the information and pondered why Sam would just up and leave for a milkshake.

“Cas, you don’t think that there’s something wrong with the milkshake? Or like, this town in general? Because I do and Sam was being a real overbearing douchebag after you left yesterday and acting completely out of character.”

He didn’t hesitate to nod his head, “I must admit, the strange customs have piqued my interest and Sam did drink quite a lot of that milkshake yesterday so it might be a possibility that there is a supernatural force going on here.”

He looked like he wanted to say more, but you’d turned a corner and arrived just before the diner. Castiel left the car and went to inspect whilst you decided a smart move would be to ring Sam’s phone… only to find it ringing in the back of the car. Typical frustrating Winchester.

Placing your hands on your head, you massaged your temples and tried to think of any reasonable explanation as to what on earth was going on.

You heard the driver’s door being opened and looked over to see Castiel already turning the keys in the ignition. “He’s gone to Mr and Mrs. Smith's house,” was the only explanation you received.

Suddenly determined, you nodded and said, “Alright, we’re getting somewhere, onward!” So, the car started and picked up speed, as you made your way to the Smith’s house you took a chance to observe the area a bit more.

It was definitely something outdated and old-fashioned but the people did look happy, even if the shops were called something despicable like “The Rainbow Restaurant". It was very bright and colourful and you didn’t doubt that even if a thunderstorm hit, these people would still be acting on top of the world.

Upon finally reaching your destination, you took notice of the white-picket fence and the massive garden. The house was huge and definitely unnecessary for only two people. Regardless, you and Cas sauntered up to the door and knocked three times respectively. On the third Cindy opened the door with a clear smile on her face and a very pleasant scent of lavender perfume. “Hello, can I help you?”

You and Cas glanced at each other before he answered, “First of all, I’d like to offer my condolences for your husband's death but we really need to know-”

He was cut off by a very confused Cindy Smith who said, “My husband? Honey, I think you might be mistaken. My darling husband is in the kitchen, fetching his newspaper. Justin, dear, come say hello!”

Again, Cas looked like he wanted to continue but a very familiar, moose-like voice interrupted “Coming darling! Won’t take two slices of a carrot cake!” It was, unmistakably, Sam. You gaped and stared questioningly at Cas in silent question. He merely returned your look.

Moments later, Sam appeared in the doorway. Wearing a pair of glasses. A ponytail. And a fucking cardigan. A cardigan, because why the hell not? He wrapped his hands around Cindy’s waist and looked at us in confusion. Or sorry, at Cas in confusion, but when his gaze landed on you his face went more stern.

“Young lady, do you not remember what I said about un lady-like clothing? Because those denim jeans and that ridiculous jumper are hardly suitable for my daughter, little miss. I suggest you get in this house right now and put on that lovely dress your mother bought you,” he basically seethed.

Now you were definitely the equivalent of a fish, with your wide mouth and wide eyes. You managed to compose yourself a bit before stuttering “Sam?”

His eye twitched and there was no warning before he grabbed your arm and pulled you in the house then promptly dragged you into the sitting area. He guided you to the sofa on the left of the fireplace and very softly explained, “My sweet honey, I know that this is hard for you, but your mother and I want what’s best for you. Now, be a good girl and wait here until your mother and I have finished our pleasant conversation with our new neighbour, hm?” Then he planted a kiss on your forehead and returned to Cindy’s side to continue conversing with Cas.

All you could think was: what the fuck?

#justin smith!sam #justin smith!sam x reader #supernatural x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam x reader #Sam Winchester #castiel x reader #spn x reader

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sooniesspot · 3 years ago

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Coming Down | myg

Okay, so here's the second installment of my BADLANDS Series. This is loosely based around Coming Down by Halsey. I realise I haven't really done them in a specific order, just the one I am pulled to next to write.

Warnings: Dom!Yoongi, Sub!Reader, mentions of slight work stress and societal pressures of being a woman, you know. All that good stuff.

Reader is a F E M I N I S T and proudly so. Loose mention of not wanting kids (which is fine btw) this is just a whole load of smut, not much fluff as it's FWB but.

Okay so, oral, f & m receiving, face fucking, fingering, multiple orgasms, rough sex, light spanking, choking (for like a milisecond) use of ties, slight sensory deprivation, slight body worship, overstimulation. Slight name-calling?? Yoongs says kitten ironically. Use of safe word/safe signal. Yoongles has a Sir Kink. (I can only apologise) Reader has a hand kink (obvs) just wants to get off and relieve stress, Yoongi is happy to be their relief.

word count: 9.8k 👀🐸☕ don't @ me

'I found God, I found him in a lover'

It was a normal Thursday evening, you'd finished work at 6pm on the dot and took the bus home. Fishing for your keys as you approached the front door of your apartment. Key in the lock, turn. Open. Silence. Walking into your hallway, slippers not quite on the rack by the front door as you rushed out of them into your heels this morning. Just where you left them. Sliding off your heels with a sigh as you trudged into your slippers, immediately comforted by the soft memory foam that supported your tiresome toes. Returning your heels to the rack. Shrugging off your bag and long coat, reaching nearly 2 feet above you on your tiptoes to hang your bag and coat on the coat rack. Muttering to yourself like you did every day. 'Coat and bag, then heels. Won't have to stretch so much.' Venturing into the living room. Magazine on the coffee table infront of the sofa where you had left it last night.

Empty. Not that you expected anyone to be home. No one making you dinner you didn't want, or taking up the whole sofa, or hogging the remote. You lived alone, and you liked it. Sure, for a pretty young girl in her mid twenties you often had looks and questions.

'When are you going to find the one?'

'When will you settle down and have a family?'

And truth be told, you didn't want to settle down. You had told your mother from a young age that you didn't want children, whether that would change over time or not you weren't sure. It hadn't changed. You still wanted your independence and that was okay. Women were not put on this earth just to bear children and you were the firmest believer in that. You liked your life just the way it was. A job you loved that you worked hard for, an apartment you were proud of and nearly every night you got to sleep in your own bed, alone, no one to whine at when they snored or your body being used as a warmer for their cold feet. The few nights you were away from your bed came from your once in a while rendezvous with an acquaintance of yours. Although you knew eachother more than mere acquaintances should.

You met at a bar some time ago. Lights flashed, sure to give you a migraine and music so loud your eardrums could burst at any given moment. You were dragged out to this stingy bar by your bestfriend in her attempt to finally get noticed by that one guy. Even in her twenties she was still as smitten as when you were both back at school. You wore a simple black dress with a low cut front, skirt just above the knee and plain black heels. Hair not much different to your everyday, maybe a few waves here and there and some more mascara than your normal work volume. Trying your best to blend in but still having the ornate ability to have eyes on you in any setting.

You spent a lot of time on the dance floor until your friend had found her prey and you circled around the bar. Much rather wanting to stay at home with a tub of ice cream and your cat watching some terrible reality show about Cabin Crew on a cruise ship. Shouting at the TV to throw the nasty woman overboard; waving your spoon at the screen as your cat looked on in understanding almost. But here you were, slumped against a sticky varnished oak bar, propped up on an old velvet stool, twisting your straw in your glass, nonchalantly spinning the steadily melting ice as you listened to your friend talking to her guy. Suddenly feeling a hot hand against your lower back and someone lean over the bar between you and your otherwise occupied friend. Looking up at a pale man to your left.

" Whiskey on the rocks. " came his order to the bar tender; sharp, leaving no room for anything blasé.

Catching his eye, he looked you over once with a subtle bite of his lip and the flick of his tongue at the seam of his mouth; eyebrow raised with a lingering smirk before he vanished into the sea of people again with his drink.

Dumbfounded, you sat there, staring at the now empty spot where he had been mere seconds ago, the now cool expanse of your lower back where his large hand once was, fizzing. Swinging round on your stool, propping your elbow on the bar behind you, your eyes scanned the room. It wasn't the biggest bar. It wouldn't take long to find him.

Soon you caught eyes with him across the dance floor, stood with his taller, tanned friends as he held the whiskey glass firm in his hand; talking amongst themselves. Dark Brown, almost black hair feathered across his forehead, just above his twinkling chocolate eyes. Thin upper lip pressing to his plumper bottom lip before perfect white teeth graced your vision in an endearing gummy smile. Eyes still not catching you between the bodies of people dancing. Several silver hoop earrings in each ear. He wore a long black sweatshirt, black ripped jeans and boots. A couple of silver rings adorned his strong fingers.

You took a sip of your drink, gaze intermittently fluttering in his direction as you scanned the room, your friend had left to go and dance. Eyes found her and you nodded, knowing she was fine. As your stare focused back on the man before you he finally looked up, catching your eye with his, dark and mysterious. His lips pulling into a smirk again as he gazed at you. Heat bubbling in your chest from his wandering eyes on your body through the gap in people on the dance floor. He eventually made his way over to you and whispered a few words into your ear. Cool and calm.

" Come back to my hotel. "

And so you did. One slightly drunk, intense one night stand later and here you were, 6 months down the line sleeping with eachother whenever he was in town. A classic Friends With Benefits situation, although you weren't really friends.

You walked into your kitchen, greeting your ginger tabby cat with a kiss as she meowed at you in greeting. Grabbing yourself a glass for water and pouring kibble into her bowl on the floor, your routine monotonous but you didn't mind. Your cat tucking into her dinner as you filled up your glass, taking a sip. Looking at delivery menus on your fridge under old magnets from previous travels, deciding on Chinese; plucking the menu from the fridge, you had a training day for other colleagues at work tomorrow which meant a day off for you. No needing to cook dinner and get an early night tonight. Placing your glass and the menu on the coffee table in the living room, you switched on the tv, chucking any random show on then bumbling along to your room, opening the door. Greeted by quiet and serenity. No dirty pants on the floor or unmade bed. You smiled with contentment, unzipping your dress to pool at your feet before tossing it into your wash basket. You looked at yourself in the mirror, your most dependable black bra and panty set glaring back at you as you fixed your hair into a ponytail and wiped off your makeup. Throwing on a sweatshirt and some leggings. A short while later you plopped yourself down on the sofa and switched on the tv, greeting your cat with a scratch under her chin as she sauntered into the room, hopping up on the sofa with you.

Zoning out to the world around you as a terrible drama played on in the background as you glanced over the menu, not really paying attention to anything in particular. You had been a little stressed over the past couple of weeks, mounting pressures of a new senior in your department threatening to change everything you had sculpted into a balanced working environment over the last 3 years. Societal pressures and backhanded compliments from your mother's 'garden party' friends concerning whether or not you were defective in choosing a man. Or having one choose you. But in reality, the truth is, you had a stable relationship previously, unfortunately he was a dick and you're not stupid. So the single life had been your rather quiet reality for the last 18 months. No one to answer to or to worry about. Just you and your cat.

Your mothers friends never seemed to understand that, always too engrossed in whether or not you had a man on top of you every night to see that their husbands had found other, much younger women to be on top of. All of this filtering through the crack in your hardened shell, filling your mind with alternate realities until you got a text coming through. Cutting through all the fuzz that piqued in your brain. Picking up your phone, you saw who it was. Him.

'I'm in town, come over?'

Your reply was short and sweet.

'Sure, be over in 20.'

Snapping out of your previous thoughts and placing the menu back on the coffee table you sat and pondered for a minute. This was fine. This was what you needed. To let off some steam, in a judgement free setting. No cold glances your way, or harsh words uttered, unless it was you being tied to the headboard again like you had been convinced to try last time with his unadulterated gaze looking down at you writhing underneath him. The thought alone had your hair standing on end and a shiver running through you as you stood from the sofa, heading to your room.

Sifting through your wardrobe to pull on some old trainers, checking yourself in the mirror not really knowing why. In your hallway you made sure the lights in the apartment were off and your cat was happy, tucked up in the corner of the sofa snoozing away. Making sure you had your keys and phone in your bag, you left, key in the lock, turn. Locked. Walking down the hallway and down to the ground floor, heading out of the building to head right. The hotel he always stayed at was only a block or so away so the walk was relatively short. The sun was setting now as it hid behind the skyscrapers that canopied the city. Passers by making their way home or even to work. Still lots of cars on the road and bicycles that weaved in and out of traffic. The breeze was light and cherry blossoms danced in the air, separating from a tree as you passed a nearby park. The air was cool, as it would be in early May. Not too hot. Reminded of your journey, that first night.

'When his hair falls in his face and his hands so cold they shake'

You had left swiftly after his original proposition, making up some story about your cat or an early work meeting or something. Anything to get you out of there and with him. His hand returned to the small of your back as you left the bar, being ushered into an awaiting taxi outside. Shuffling all the way over to the other side, he slid in next to you blurting out the address to the hotel at the driver. Hair falling in his face. Eyes wild as they sparkled from the reflection of the dim streetlights. Smirking at you as the same powerful hand you had grown accustomed to on your back, made a home on your knee, slightly tucked under the skirt of your dress. It was now cold to the touch. Strong and intimidating as the taxi started to drive away. Not being able to take his eyes off you he leant forward and whispered in your ear.

" You look so delicious. " His voice low that reverberated through you, straight to your core as he squeezed your knee. Uttering the last syllable with a kitten lock to the shell of your ear.

To this you bit your lip and shifted uncomfortably in your seat. His hand, in turn sliding further up under your dress to the wider expanse of your thigh. The material of your dress pressing his hand taught against your skin.

He swooped down to your ear again, pressing an open mouthed kiss under your ear before he whispered " can't wait to taste you. "

You keened away from his grasp to no avail. He knew what he was doing to you, breath shallow and flighty in your chest as his teeth tugged at your earlobe.

"Please " You breathed, the first word you uttered to him.

Not really sure what you were pleading him for but the fire in your chest and the dampness of your panties flourished an urgency within you that was incorrigible. He smirked again at this, eyes dancing like Fireflies in the night. The hand that was to his side while the other hid between your thighs came up to cup your cheek, turning your face towards him.

"Soon. " He chuckled before biting your lip.

Drawn back to reality, passing people and cars. Your trainers pulling you towards your destination as your head had an argument with your feet. Was this a good idea? You didn't want to get yourself into a situation where either of you caught feelings. You were a pro at being a cold hearted bitch now but the odd sincere glance your way, especially from him seemed to melt your resolve, even just a little. Recounting the previous times you had taken this walk and what it would lead to.

After your first night with him, it was like a drug. You always wanted more. To say he was good in the bedroom was a complete cop out. He was...He was something. Made you feel things you'd never felt before and noises you'd never in your wildest dreams imagine yourself making. At decibels only a dog could hear. So once the addiction started, you started seeing one another everytime he was in town. Sometimes a couple of times in a week. That went on for a solid 4 months and as work pressures mounted, you fell distant. Always busy catching up with work or having some alone time with your thoughts and your cat. He also got busy, having to travel more for work. You didn't really know much about except it was important and you felt based on the guitar he always packed with him, propped up against the wall in the corner of the room, it was something to do with music.

'I found a devil, I found him in a lover'

The last time you had seen eachother had been a little over 2 weeks ago. That night you'd stayed, which didn't come easily. You were adamant you would leave as soon as you'd cleaned up, even telling him so as he helped you wash in the bathroom, almost requesting a second round when he looked at you through the mirror with those sparkling brown eyes like the devil, but you had been so wound up and pushed to your limits that you felt sleep take you as soon as your body hit the mattress again. Memories of restraints, dark water colours that created the murky palette of his hotel room and the low thumping of your heart, even as you entered the apartment, seeing him there, a tie in hand and a coy smirk. That night he had called you. He never called.

" You busy? " He sounded gruff like he'd just finished working out - which you knew not to be the case.

"When am I ever busy? " You rebuttled with a laugh.

He joined you, then you could hear him grin down the phone. A different sort of grin. A devious one.

"I wanted to try something. "

There was quiet, you wished him to continue silently.

"Something I can't stop thinking about doing to you. " He whispered lowly.

Your ears on fire and furiously red in the face you hung up. Chucking a quick 'omw' text to him in return. That night had been the best sex you'd ever had. That's why you'd stayed. For fear of walking into oncoming traffic at 2am because of your disorientated state.

Your heart skipped a beat at the anticipation of what was to come once you knocked on the door and it sent a thrill through you. Rounding the corner you were met with a bleak grey concrete block of apartments that made up the hotel with a black sign. Crossing the street after looking both ways you jogged up the steps as you saw the door beginning to close after a couple just exited. Sliding in you headed straight for the elevator.

He always had the same hotel room which avoided any confusion. You ran to the elevator that had just opened and pressed the 7th floor. Alone again your mind wandered to your first night here, in this lift.

You'd both stumbled out of the taxi and shuffled over to the lift, he pressed the elevator button furiously as he got impatient; leaning against eachother. As soon as the lift doors were closed he pressed you against the wall, face millimetres from yours as his nose skimmed over yours. Both of your breathing, laboured and slow. His large hands roamed your body; your waist, up and down your thighs. Gripping at the flesh as if he owned it. You wanted him to. God you wanted him to own all of you in that moment. Gaze intense and unwavering as the mysterious glint in his eye grew. His hands slid around the curve of your ass which made you stutter, giving it a harsh squeeze that made you lose your breath.

"I'm gonna ruin you." He whispered devilishly in your ear as he bit the shell.

Pulled out of your reverie as the elevator doors dinged open, signalling you had reached your floor, face burning as you stepped out of the lift, cold fingers pressed to your cheeks to try and cool them. Preparing yourself for what man would greet you at the door. You never knew which one you would get. Sometimes he was ravenous and you never made it to the bed, lipstick smeared and tights ripped as he never had time to waste when he felt such a desperate need for you. Or you would get the cool calm and collected man that caught your eye that night all those months ago. That was, until he got you here. Alone with him.

Walking down the corridor to his room now, counting the doors as they seemed to go on for miles, dark in wood with numbers etched in gold with golden handles. Your breath starting to slip away from you as you imagined as soon as you opened that door you wouldn't be able to breathe steadily again for a while. Room 93. (Shoutout to Halsey's first EP) There it was. You slowed to a stop, almost nervous to knock. 'Just knock' You muttered to yourself. Rolling your eyes as you fidgeted on the spot, sighing as you raised your hand to knock on the door. Knock. Wait. Silence.

You were waiting for a little while which was unlike any other time. Checking your watch and the door number. You waited a little longer and you were just about to walk away when the door opened slowly. You turned; met with the same dancing brown eyes you caught in yours all those months ago, although slightly sunken, maybe he hadn't been sleeping well? His lean frame propped up against the door. Arms folded over his broader chest. Hair fluffed over his forehead, slightly damp. Pale skin flawless and glowing against the dark background of his hotel room and the darkness of his simple black tee and sweatpants. Silver hoops still adorned his ears and rings still glistened on his beautiful hands. Eyes unwavering as they honed in on you. Smirk playing on his thin lips.

"You're early." He mumbled all knowingly, looking at the rings that adorned his knuckles, as if he were about to connect them with a wall.

You stuttered, heart in your mouth as you gawked at the man. Feeling like a naughty school girl that was about to get a ruler spanked across her a-. You stopped the thought for fear of collapsing in the hallway. His eyes still on you, looking you up and down. You mentally slapped yourself for your attire. Sweatshirt and leggings. Not sexy in the slightest. Anyway. Why did you care? Not like you wanted to impress him, right? After another beat his strong arm pulled you in the room by the collar of your sweatshirt, closing the door swiftly behind you and pinning you up against it.

"Just means I have more time." He whispered against your lips.

Sweeping strands of hair out of your face delicately, tucking his fingers behind your ears. He smiled at you, his gummy smile. You never thought that smile would be directed at you. Let alone in this setting.

'With his lips like tangerines, and his colour-coded speak'

His lips moulded to yours with a sudden urgency. Teeth and tongue caressing your lips with power and want. Heavy breaths exchanged as you dropped your bag; hands trying to find purchase somewhere sturdy and stable. Deciding upon the strength of his arms. Eyes closing as you were swept away in the moment of teeth and tongue and pent up tension and wanton need for eachother. His fingers pulling out your hairband so your hair pooled around your face. His fingers lacing through the soft locks as he grinned against your lips. Always having an ornate infatuation with how silky your hair was. How good it felt wrapped around his fist as he fucked you into the mattress. How it spread out behind you like waves across the crisp white bedsheets, framing your face perfectly as you slept.

He missed this. Maybe he missed you. Jolted back from his sweet thoughts, hearing you start to mumble against his lips as he continued to pin you up against the door, your head firmly in his hands.

"Yoongi." You murmured again, slurring the word slightly; drunk off the potent lust he cradled you with.

He never let up from your lips, intent on breathing you in. Hands untangling themselves from your hair as his cool calm hands landed on your shoulders, moving you away from the door to pin you to a wall, nearer to the bed. An eventual destination set in his mind. He couldn't get enough of you. Your hands travelled to cup his cheeks. His lips dry against yours gaining moisture from the saliva rolling around in your mouths as your tongues fought. Small whimpers beginning to swim their way into the air. Music to his ears. Of all the music he'd ever had a hand in creating, he wished he could emulate your tiny whimpers. Your cries for more of him. All of him. Wanting to devour him whole.

"Fuck" He exclaimed, finally pulling away from you, heavy breathing as his forehead was against yours.

Not even giving you time to breath he reached for the hem of your sweatshirt, pulling it over your head to reveal your gorgeous body to his hungry eyes. Knowing now that hiding from his gaze would be futile. An attempt at covering up would leave your ass raw and marks all over every single inch of your body. God's above. He made you feel like the only girl in the world, to him you practically were. He never sought out for any other attention or company from other women. The taste of you as often as he could have you was more than enough to satiate his heart.

He made quick work of your bra before throwing his own shirt off onto the growing pile on the floor. His hands, rough against your soft, plush breasts as his thumbs circled around your pebbling nipples. His teeth latching onto your bottom lip, humming as he looked into your steadily closing eyes. Teeth venturing south along your jaw to your neck and collarbone as he began to grab at the skin of your waist after he finished moulding your breasts; as if trying to memorise the feeling of them in his hands. The weighted comfort he had grown to adore about your chest. Teeth sinking in, enticing low gasps and the tiniest of squeaks as he would bite too hard on already sensitive flesh, intent on getting every inch of your skin covered in small indentations from his teeth. Tongue lascivious against the contours of your neck and collarbones, sickly sweet taste of your skin that drove him wild.

'Now we're lost somewhere in outer space, in a hotel room where demons play'

All you could do was pant and mule against him, your hands in his steadily drying locks. Suddenly pulling away as he untied the drawstring of his pants.

"Knees, now." He whispered authoritively and you happily obeyed.

Flicking your hair off your shoulder you sank down onto your knees. Eyes ignited with a fire he practically stoked out of you. You admired his body on the journey down. Body lithe and pale, defined arms and chest with a flat stomach, no six pack or defined v lines that led to the promising tent that you saw in your line of sight. Just a small happy trail of hair from below his belly button sneaking into the hem of his sweatpants. Swiftly taking them down and off you were greeted with black boxers, looking tight around his cock cased within. You licked your lips in anticipation as his fingers forked through the hair on your scalp. Looking up to his face as he gazed down at you with a stern look in his own eyes; burning into your already flushed skin.

"Someone looks like they've missed this." He smirked as your hand rose to palm him through his boxers.

He released a low hum at the feeling of your hand cupping his balls. You knew that he was very sensitive there, from past experiences.

"Does the slut want my cock?" He asked, a feather of a chuckle rumbled in his chest at your immediate nod as you ran your tongue over the seem of your lips.

Your fingers delved underneath the fabric as you began to pull them down. Sudden slap to your hands had you shying away from him.

"Hungry sluts have to wait don't they, kitten?" His eyes zeroing in on your reaction to the pet name.

You gritted your teeth in vague annoyance at the name, after the first night, you told him you had to be home for your cat. Finding it oddly adorable you were a cat lady he called you kitten ironically, now it's stuck. Your eyes looking away from him, turning your head slightly towards the large window that showed the rest of the city. Twinkling lights now shining in the moonlight. His hand gripped your chin, pulling your attention back to him, forcing you to look up into his devious eyes.

"I don't think you answered me, slut." He snarled; releasing your chin from his grasp.

Your heart jumped in your chest. "Y-yes, sir."

He smirked again, feeling triumphant he patted your head, thumb smoothing over your hair line with ghost like touches before running it along the seem of your mouth, popping his thumb in, flat against your tongue. Closing your lips around him, beginning to suck, big eyes gazing up at him.

"Good girl." He whispered before removing his thumb from your mouth and yanking his boxers down and stepping out of them.

His fingers danced through his damp hair as his cock sprung up against his stomach, a muted groan as the cool air touched his reddened and straining cock. Your eyes widened, never getting used to the sight of his cock, inches away from your salivating mouth, making your panties pool with a carnal need for him to be inside you. Your hands began to rub up and down your jeans clad thighs, waiting with baited breath for him to give you the command. This man and the things you'd do for him would have others question if you were a feminist or not. How a strong single woman with a steady career and bustling social life could want to be so utterly defiled by a man and be at his every whim really flipped your ideology on its head. But a drug was a drug, and you were high on him like cocaine.

"Alright, stop giving me those bedroom eyes." He gushed, dominating voice faltering as he gazed down at you, waiting and ready for him to let you begin.

You fluttered your eyelashes at him, big and bold. Biting your lip as your hands rubbed along your thighs again.

"Fuck, just get over here." He laughed, holding the base of his cock in his hand as your hands slunk up his sturdy pale thighs.

Fingertips sending sparks through his body. Your lips reaching his tip, you looked up at him again as you kitten licked his bulbous tip, testing it. Like testing a car. He hissed to which you smirked. You took your tongue to lick the underside of his cock lightly, teasing his frenulum before swirling your tongue round his tip several times. He puffed out a harsh breath but never said a word, fingers beginning to weave into your hair with a softness you were unfamiliar with. Surrounding the tip with your lips as you slowly sunk the head into your waiting mouth. Giving kitten links to the underside again as you sucked on his tip for a moment. Yoongis breath was heavy, you could tell by his chest moving, half lidded eyes looking down at you as you took more of him in slowly. Tongue still licking everywhere you could. Your other hand still positioned on his thigh as you rubbed small circles in it with your thumb.

Starting to take him deeper in your mouth and pulling him back out for breath had him seeing double. His vision was blurred as he could feel your heavenly lips wrap around his strained cock, precum and spit starting to pool at the corners of your mouth; threatening to spill as you bobbed your head back and forth on his dick. Setting up a rhythm you plunged him in deep so your nose touched his abdomen and he threw his head back with a grunt; gritting his teeth.

"Uh, fuck. Your mouth is so good" He whispered into the air.

'I've got a lover and I'm unforgiven, I'm such a fool to pay this price'

Your mouth worked on him as well as it could. You would take a lot of him in and proceed to gag which made him grunt. As your hand began to work at the base of his shaft. Giving him your all. Making up for lost time.

"Fuck, I'm not gonna last." He hissed. His hands in spearing through your hair as his thumbs rubbed at your scalp.

"I should've kept my hands to myself... Always impatient." He chuckled menacingly to himself; shaking his head.

Your breath was heaving as you pulled back from him. Hands gripping his thighs tight as you looked up at the man towering above you.

"What do you say, will you let me fuck your mouth like a good pet?" He asked, hands still in your hair.

"Make me cum, then it's your turn? How about it, kitten?"

No hesitation in your eyes as you gazed up at him as if he had hand painted all of the stars in the sky. You nodded profusely and he grinned at you; swiping the spit away from the corner of your mouth with his thumb.

"Good girl, remember your safe signal?" He asked, almost sweet in his tone.

You tapped the back of his thigh 3 times with your finger and he nodded. Feathering his fingers through your hair again, your hand still at the base of his dick lining him up to your waiting mouth. You gave him the go ahead as he thrusted shallowly into your mouth at first. Finally in your mouth his hands speared through your hair behind your ears to hold you still as he began to move his hips back and forth. You had done this before. Let him do this. But this time was so raw and so needy you honestly couldn't fathom how much you needed this. And it wasn't even your turn. He began to set up a rhythm working his length deeper with every thrust; starting to make you gag as you tried your best to relax. He breathed in sharply, his head thrown back as he pumped in and out. His shaft gliding smoothly across your tongue and beginning to slip down your throat as you sputtered around him. Hands firmly gripping the back of his thighs, the same way he was gripping your hair.

"Fuck, fuck. Your mouth. Kills me." He mumbled to himself; thinking you couldn't hear.

You looked up at him, a picture of bliss. Arms locked in place, keeping you still as he slid in and out of your mouth, picking up speed now. The veins in his neck; protruding under a velvet blanket of Frosted skin. Teeth gritted and brows furrowed. He looked down to see you already watching him. To this he groaned deep within his chest at the sight of you so willing and ready for him. Setting his nerves alight he could feel his orgasm approaching. Gripping your hair even tighter as he gave you a moment to breath before jackhammering into your mouth with a low whine.

"Fuck. Holy shit." He whispered before you felt his cock twitch deep in your throat and thick ropes of cum travel down it as he came; hips jerking at weird angles as you noticed sweat beading across his neck and collarbones; reaching up to his hairline.

After he had composed himself he pulled out of your mouth and you swallowed everything still left in your mouth before opening your mouth to show it was empty. He ran a solid hand through his own hair before he pulled you to your feet; planting a heavy kiss to your lips as he walked you back towards the bed. Practically pushing you back on it with a soft bounce. He suddenly rounded to the other side of the hotel room rummaging through a suitcase. Soon returning with several black ties in hand. Giving you a knowing smirk. You felt your stomach sink at the memory of your last adventure with this man. In this hotel room. With those ties. But judging by the look on his face and the fact his previously lifeless cock had begun to spring to life again; you knew it was different.

'I found a martyr, he told me that I'd never'

He began to move you up the bed to where he saw fit. Nodding when he had got you where he wanted. Straddling your waist he grabbed an arm tying the tie around your wrist to then loop it around the headboard. He soon did the same to the other one. Then finally you saw him gazing down at you from above before he slipped a soft silk tie over your eyes fastening it behind your head. Everything went black, but you could hear him; feel him. All around you. Feeling weight either side of your head you suddenly felt breath over your nipple; squirming at the sensation and your clothed pussy clenching around nothing. You felt him kitten lock his way along your breast before landing an unexpected bite against your neck, causing you to pull against the restraints with a sharp intake of breath.

"Remember your safe word, kitten?" He whispered in your ear.

You nodded. "Seesaw."

He sat back on his heels; still straddling you. Crossing his arms with a nod.

"Why is it Seesaw, again?" You ask, a grin sliding onto your face.

He chuckled at this before you felt weight lifted from the bed. You skin crawling with goosebumps as you waited with anticipation. Suddenly feeling deft fingers pulling your leggings and panties down in one swift movement. A beat of silence. Feeling like forever until you felt the same fingers, calloused but oh so soft against the skin of your collarbone.

"You don't remember?" He whispered into the darkness.

You shook your head no as your body began to squirm. Feeling his finger trail delicately down to your chest, followed by his other pointer finger on his left. Circling your nipples in precise motions. You sucked in a breath and your back arched as you felt him blow cool air onto the perking bud.

"Oh kitten, it was the bar where we first met" You could hear the smirk evident in his voice as his fingers trailed underneath the curve of your breasts.

"The night I took you home and ate you so good you nearly passed out." A dry chuckle left his lips at the gasp that left your own.

He began to drag his sturdy fingers slowly; tantalisingly, in soft motions towards your belly button where he would branch out with delicate touch; placing more fingers on your skin as they circled your hipbones. Finally sloping down to your thighs where his grip became firm and he pryed your legs apart to expose you to him. Heat flashing across your face as you whimpered at the action. Oh god. The things he made you feel. You felt electricity surge through your body, bouncing off your bones as you heard him hum.

"Mmmm. So wet, just from sucking my cock, kitten?"

You bit your lip with a whine; nodding profusely. Blush creeping across your cheeks. He seemed to like this as you heard a deep rumbled in his chest in approval. You could feel the bed dip slightly due to transferred weight. Right between your legs. Shit. If only you could see him. What was he doing? Was he pleased? Oh fuck, you didn't shave your le- your thoughts were far removed as you felt lips across the inside of your thigh; just above your knee.

"Shit, I can't wait to taste you." He whispered; sending cool air rushing up to your core.

Feeling his lips drag effortlessly along your thigh to where you wanted him most; needed him. He was tender; savouring the moment. He had missed this, giving you what you wanted. Watching you underneath him. Tasting you; devouring you. That's why he was so quick to cum the first time around. Too excited by the thought of having you again he had started to touch himself in the shower. Thinking of your soft, sweet body; Bending to his every whim. Your mouth stuffed full of his cock. Your enticing wet pussy that always made you blush at the sounds it would make, as he would fuck you. Hard and rough. He groaned at the thought before his face was level with your heat. Soft breaths that made your body wriggle; desperate to escape and want more; all at once. He hooked your knees over his elbows as he held your legs down. blowing against your exposed clit and watching your pussy clench around nothing; glistening with your essence he hungered for.

'With his educated eyes, and his head between my thighs'

"Mmmm. Sweet pussy baby girl." He kissed the apex of your thigh watching you writhe against the restraints. He hadn't even started yet. You were in for a long night.

You didn't seem to notice the name at first. It wasn't what he had called you any of the times before. But as the air thinned out around you; feeling the silence weighted around the room like a thick curtain and nothing was corrected, it almost felt affectionate; coming from his sinful lips that had just attached themselves to your-

"Fuck." Your breath caught as you threw your head back against the mattress.

Feeling lips suckling against your clit with vigor. He knew what you liked and knew how to get you where he wanted you. His tongue began lapping at your clit as his lips sucked where they could. Your breathing was heavy and you tried to pull against the restraints; your legs restless as the odd whimper left parted lips. His eyes although you couldn't see him, were focused on you. Watching every bite of your lip, every salacious moan or whimper; every gasp. You began rocking your hips in a rhythm against his tongue and he moaned at the pressure you posed against him. Trying to feel some friction as his throbbing cock had sprung to life from your first whimper; sandwiched between his abdomen and the mattress.

"God, this pussy is so good." He moaned; muffled by your legs trying so hard to clamp around his head as he continued his ministrations.

Soon enough you could feel the familiar rope spread throughout your body, begin to coil; tight as a spring before you felt a nip to your clit and you unravelled underneath him. Feeling weightless and weighted all at once. Stars beneath the blanket of the silk tie; delicate against your eyes. Head thrashing around as arms pulled with all their might against the restraints. Your back arched as you moaned loudly; legs starting to shake at the force of your orgasm. But that wasn't the end. He flicked his tongue against your swollen clit with more intent. Determined to push you through another orgasm before he even started using his fingers. God his fingers. Your lower body began to lift off the bed as his grip on your legs only got tighter.

"Fuck, fuck Yoongi. Oh my fucking g-"

You heard an animalistic growl as you felt another nip to your clit; yelping at the sudden spark of pain amongst your pleasure.

"Sir. Stick to the rules." He punctuated with a slap to your clit. Back arching for a moment as you felt a pulse throughout your body.

"Or I'll keep biting." He mumbled the last part.

You pouted. "Yes sir." You could feel your orgasm beginning to ebb away as he took longer to return to your clit.

You whined and you felt breath on your clit again as he chuckled. Although your predicament was purely casual. Wanting to get off essentially was your main goal. Neither of you ever rushed. Enjoying one another's company. Feeling his slick, swift tongue dancing along your clit again you moaned; trying so hard to keep quiet out of respect for neighbours as you tried resting your mouth against your arm to muffle your high pitched moans. His tongue retracted until you felt the tip of his tongue tease the edge of your entrance before dipping his tonulgue in for a moment. Your hips bolted you forward at the intrusion before settling back down on the bed. His tongue running up and down from your entrance to your clit in long strokes. Quickly settling his tongue back against your throbbing clit. You yelped as he applied more pressure.

"Fuck, I love this cunt."

Slurping noises ensued as he dove in deeper. You orgasm building again and again, holding on for dear life. Holding onto your sanity. His tongue swirling around the pulsing bud as you continued your previous rhythm rocking against his face. Your knuckles were turning white at the sheer grip you had on the ties; feeling yourself drift away.

"Fuck, please, yoo-"

He pressed his face even further into your heat as you cried out in pleasure. Tongue flicking mercilessly over your engorged clit. Reaching the summit again to fall all the way down into the abyss. He never let up from you as his tongue lapped at your juices spilling from your entrance. Nerves alight and pulsing throughout your body. A thin layer of sweat was evident against your face, collarbones; the whole of your body. Sweat beaded from his own forehead and he wiped the back of his hand over his mouth as he watched you regain your breath. Stilted in the silence. Only your chest rising and falling as your lungs gasped for air.

He loosened his right arms hold around your leg and brought his fingers forward to your sensitive pussy. Humming to himself as he gathered the Juices on the tip of his fingers and spreading it all over your pussy as it glistened in the dim hotel light. Knowing how much you lost your collective shit over his hands he couldn't help but watch his hands tip toe up to your breast; squeezing the flesh roughly in his hand before slinking it over to massage your neck for a second. Only to grab it a moment later. Your breath caught quite literally as you could feel the bed move from where he was sitting up. He could feel the pressure against your soft skin and the way your breath constricted; only for a moment as he loosened his grip. His fingers still flush against the skin. His veined hand looked like it belonged around your neck. He thought to himself before sliding his thumb into your mouth again; which you accepted with enthusiasm.

'I found a saviour, I don't think he remembers'

"One more from you, kitten. Then I'll fuck you. Okay?" He hummed.

Your reply was noncommittal as you nodded vehemently; still sucking on his thumb. He looked down at you with a certain adoration. Laying there, naked for him. Tied up and blindfolded. If he'd have thought this would be the case after that first night, he would have laughed. But here you both were.

His fingers began to trace the outline of your entrance; whisper like touches that made you clench around nothing. He began experimentally pushing his long slender middle finger inside you a little; chuckling lowly as you let out a whine. Your pussy trying to suck him in further. Wanting to feel him. All of him.

"Sir. Please." You murmured, legs that were now free from his grasp allowing you to rotate your hips.

He wanted to tease. God. He wanted to tease you until the sun came up. But he was desperate and so were you. He removed his finger earning a cry from you. Until he slid in two fingers to your shock and set a brutal pace. Feeling those godly fingers of his curl into you. Moulding you perfectly to him. Tapping against that sweet spot inside. He used his other hand to press your hips to the bed; preventing movement as you felt a touch of sensitivity kicking in. But you put it to the back of your mind; focussing on the way his fingers were drilling into you at an inhuman pace now.

Your senses heightened due to his silk tie that blocked your view. Oh how you wished you could watch his fingers sliding in and out of you like you had done countless times before. Acquiring quite the affinity with the mans hands. Pale, veiny; strong in their ability to hold you but soft when he caressed your cheek, wiping the spit away from the corner of your mouth or the pad of his thumb sweeping away tears from overstimulation. God you loved them.

"Fuck. I'm so close." You cried out, to someone. Anyone who could hear you as he continued his ministrations.

"Yeah? The slut loves my fingers doesn't she?" Yoongi spat; his voice laced with venom.

"Loves my fingers fucking her, huh?"

All you could do was mewl as you could feel your body going into overdrive. Your head slamming against the pillow as you could feel yourself near the edge. Just needing one final push.

"But you love it best when my hand's around your throat. Isn't that right? Slut?"

You hadn't felt his hand move. Too lost in the pleasure he was giving you. Until you felt it grip your throat. Not hard. But just enough. Squeezing when he said slut. Sparks flew and your fingers and toes felt as if they were set to a light simmer. Your body going numb at the feeling and your pussy throbbing as you came. A high pitched moan of his name left your bitten lips as he continued thrusting his fingers in and out of you. Body moving in time with your spasming cunt as you began to feel the overstimulation kicking in, rearing its ugly head once more. The pain was excruciating as he continued but the pleasure washed over you again as your entrance continued to clench around his fingers. Silence as a moan caught in your throat. This had to be the biggest orgasm you had ever had. Nerves set alight with matches and turning into a forest fire that exploded like gasoline until it set to a simmer when Yoongi slowed his fingers down ever so slightly. Enamoured by your head thrown back and your mouth in the perfect shape of an O. He would've cum right there, just at the sight of you convulsing beneath him.

"Cause he's off to pay his crimes, and he's got no time for mine'

"Fuck, me." He breathed, shaky breaths too.

Quickly flipping you onto your front, your still tied arms now crossed over one another. Propping your legs up so you were on your knees. A sharp smack to your ass sent you reeling into another sobbing mess. Beginning to plead with him. For something; anything.

Soon enough you felt his hands returning to your hips and ass, caressing them carefully. Your ass flinching at the contact of his lips on your lower back, you could hear a slight slapping sound behind you, assuming he had started to touch himself again. You whimpered at the thought of not being able to watch his veiny hand slide up and down his equally veiny cock. Fuck.

His lips still against your skin as he whispered "I nearly came just like that, watching you cum all over my fingers baby."

There it was again. Baby. Nothing more nothing less. There was a pregnant pause before he sighed, beginning to speak again.

"You're so fucking hot" a groan sounded as the pace of his hand quickened against his length. The slapping sound intensified.

You whimpered, beginning to move your ass up and down, wiggling it at him to invite him in.

"Yoongi, just fuck me already." You whined.

A sharp slap sounded against your ass, reverberating through the room. You winced at the pain, taking in a quick breath before a hand returned to your ass kneading it in his palm.

"Slut is so impatient today. I'll fuck you, don't worry." His words were menacing.

'Now we're lost somewhere in outer space, in a hotel room where demons play'

His hand continued to knead at your reddening cheek before pulling it aside with his thumb, showing your dripping, waiting entrance for him. He almost lost it. Almost. Deciding that you had both waited long enough he lined his throbbing condom clad cock up with your entrance and pushed in with great speed. Hissing at the feeling of your tight wet walls surrounding him.

"Oh god." You managed a strangled whimper into the mattress.

Breath caught in your throat as you could feel his dick beginning to move swiftly inside you. His hips slapping against your ass that was sure to bruise tomorrow, your wrists were aching, your body going numb to every other feeling apart from the feeling of him ploughing into you. Your vision was starry eyed and you hated it. But you loved it. Sobs began to rack through your body as he spanked you once again, sending waves of pain and pleasure through you.

His pace continued as all you could do was lie there with your hands tied, begging for anything he was willing to give you. But also feeling the familiar sting of too much. But it was never too much. You willed your body to continue on. To not give up the ghost yet. You prayed for your body to fight on. To take every thrust he battered into your throbbing, weeping pussy.

The coil you had almost forgotten existed now in the plains of numb, vacant ability to even string a sentence together, began to tighten again, expecting a fraying spent body, not one this eager for your umpteenth orgasm this evening. Your pussy clenched as he continued, hollow groans you imagine him with his head back as he thrusted into you, licking his perfect lips with that sinful tongue. God, he made you crazy.

"Yoongiiiiii, fuck I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, please" your tone indescribable as you panted for breath that escaped you with every thrust as his skin continued to slap against yours.

Suddenly feeling him pull out which almost made you weep but being turned back over onto your back, the tie being ripped from off your head. You were greeted by a furiously sweating Yoongi. Sweat dripping from his dark chocolatey hair just above his eyes. His lips swollen pink from where he had probably been biting on them so much, not to mention when he had used the same lips to devour you not 20 minutes prior. His chest was heaving and lips parted as he gazed at you for a moment.

"I'm seeing that gorgeous face when you cum, no way I'm missing that." He stifled a laugh as he lined himself up with your entrance again after wrapping your legs around his torso.

'They run around beneath our feet, we roll around beneath these sheets'

Sliding in once more you rattled your wrists against the silk tie restraints as you cocked your head back in pleasure. You let out a high pitch moan, almost exasperated in tone, your back arching up into him before slumping back on the bed in defeat. Yoongi almost reading your mind whilst still thrusting inside of you began to untie the ties that bound your wrists. You thanked heaven for your saving grace. You could run your hands through his hair now, feel his sweaty skin beneath your fingertips. And soon after your hands were free he laced them in his own. This also being new to you. You knew the drill when having sex with him. He laid down the ground rules early on. No kissing. No cuddling. No hand holding. So what he did next really sent you through a loop.

"Fuck I'm close." He sighed before leaning down to kiss you.

His lips were salty, battered and bruised much like your own but you didn't care, you kissed back with all your might as he continued to thrust away inside you. Feeling his cock hit that sweet spot again you mewled, breaking the kiss with your head thrown back.

"Here kitten?" He asked, smirk evident in his voice.

You whimpered with a nod as he continued to thrust in the right place, hitting your spot so deliciously you couldn't help cry out when his pace turned rampant and he held your hips in his bone crushing hands, sure to bruise tomorrow. The punishing pace was set as his hips bucked into you and you tried to grab at anything you could, finding no sturdy comfort in the crisp white hotel sheets beneath you. Your breathing was erratic, you hadn't realised you'd been sweating until now, although not as much as the man above you. You watched in distracted awe at the sweat running down his broad chest, along his stomach and down to where his cock was pummelling into you.

You could feel it again, serious this time. Your orgasm creeping up on you faster than any bullet. Your legs tingled and your toes curled. Your knees felt like they would break and your arms felt detached from the rest of your body. In the last moments you saw him gazing down at you, exasperated, fucked out beyond belief. But smiling. You reached up at the nape of his neck and pulled him down to you, pressing your lips against his as you succumbed to the pleasure that wreaked havoc throughout your body. A heart wrenching shout came from your lips. In every moment, a glitch of your body as it spasmed with unruly disregard and poor timing. Your pussy clenched repeatedly on his cock while he continued to thrust inside of you.

"Oh fuuuck, I'm coming." He groaned into your neck as he used hard, purposeful thrusts as he came in the condom.

'He's coming down, coming down'

The sweat that accumulated on both your bodies cemented you together for moments after. All pretence and notions suspended as you both caught your breath back. Heaving. Breathing one another in. Soon Yoongi peeled himself off of you and went to remove the condom. You lay there, staring up at the ceiling. Stars still there. You weren't imagining it in the end. Scraping your hair from off your face as you wiped the sweat from your brow. Soon he returned, bouncing onto the bed next to you, looking up at you in adoration almost. A nervous smile present on his lips as if he didn't just drag you to the 7th layer of hell with him. Or was it heaven? You could never be sure.

You looked over at him with heavy lids, inquisitive look on your face as he swept hair from your shoulder. Looking down at you with that same smile. Before -

"You fancy going on a date, some time?"

NOW Mr Min is usually not my main man but i can't help it, just, shit okay Min Yoongi.

I realise I'm probably going to hell for this but we joon

Hope you guys enjoyed, working on the next installment as we speak 🤪 if you want to be added to a taglist let me know 🥴

Love Always

Mac 🧡💜

#BADLANDS x BTS #smut series #myg x reader #non idol au #min yoongi smut #this is intense #i can only apologise #bts #bangtan #bts smut

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hxt1b · 4 years ago

Text

As Long As I’m Here

Masterlist

Taeyong x Reader

Genre: Angst, CollegeAU (Hockey Player Taeyong)

Words: 5.7K

Warnings: Mature Themes (Mentions of Drunk Driving and Death. Sex.)

Accompanying Story: Isn’t It Lovely All Alone (Yuta)

A/N: I really hope you guys like this one. Please let me know what you think, it really means a lot to hear feedback from you guys. I also apologize about any grammatical errors, I did my best but some may have slipped through. Again, thank you for reading, I hope you guys like it. Ps. You guys don’t have to read the accompanying story to read this. This can be read as a stand alone!

“You were once told that guardian angels existed. You were sure yours brought you him.”

Smile, wave. Smile, head nod. Smile, say hi. They did it all, you were tired of it all. People would see you but no one wanted to get to know you. You were the silent girl in the corner of the class that no one gave a shit about. No one cared that one day you had the happiest life and the next it was crumbled at your feet. A dead limp hand crushing every sense of normalcy you had. Destroying any little hope you had in one wrong turn.

Scowling at the ground you kept your eyes away from those smiles, you made your way to your first class of the day. As each day passed by you began to regret this class more and more. She had been the one to pick it. Her obsession with him had been what had driven her to want to be in this class roping you along in the process.

“He’s bound to be in sports medicine.” She’d said to you in the summer while you had made your schedules. You’d just laughed at her, but you agreed. You always agreed.

Now she was gone, laying six feet under the ground in a cold grave and you were the one stuck in this class. Having to see their faces every day, they laughed and talked to each other loudly in class. You didn’t blame them, but you did.

The classroom was empty when you got to it. Which made sense you were early. You went to the back corner of the room and took your seat. As a fourth-year class, it was small only about a hundred kids in the class. Putting your bag down you pulled out your laptop getting ready for the class.

They came in laughing, they were always laughing, you leaned your head onto your hand and looked out the window keeping your gaze away from them. Slowly the classroom filled up and the professor entered last. You actually liked the prof she was younger than all the other profs you had, and she was easy to talk to, she understood the pressure university put on you and accounted for the fact that each kid had a lot more on their plate and suited her syllabus to that, too bad you just simply hated her class.

“I’ve graded your quizzes I will be handing them back at the end of today’s class. Speaking of which, today's class will be only half our regular time -” You tuned her out as she continued not caring to pay attention any longer. You watched the breeze outside the window as it made the trees dance, the green leaves giving way to the oranges and reds of autumn your mind drifting off to all the places you try to forget, to all the memories you won’t relive and all the memories you’ll never make.

“Okay, that’s it. Come up to my desk and grab your quiz from me as you go.” You slowly began to pack in no rush to be anywhere particular, your empty apartment was waiting for you nothing else anyway.

You rose from your seat swinging your bag on and making your way to the front of the classroom. The professor looked at you as you walked up to her and fished your quiz out from the pile handing it to you with a small smile of pity. You weren’t shocked when you turned the quiz around and looked at the thirty-four percent at the top of the sheet. Shrugging you turned away from her desk bumping straight into a hard shoulder. Somehow, he managed to knock your quiz out of your hand.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” Taeyong said. You rolled your eyes and quickly bent to grab your quiz. You ignored him as you straightened up and pushed past him making sure you didn’t look at him. Taeyong. You hated that name so much; your feelings were beyond your grasp. They always tunnelled into a monumental force that you could never reign in.

Making your way out of the classroom you decided to go to the library instead of back to your apartment. You didn’t have any other class today but going back to the silence of your apartment seemed like torture you weren’t ready for.

The heat in the library never seemed to work, but you didn’t mind the cold helped to numb your brain while you read. You made your way to the corner of the library that was home to the books that weren’t about academics. Dumping your bag down in a corner on the floor you made your way through the shelves looking for something to read. Something to take your mind away from the bitter anger that you constantly stayed in. Finding the book you wanted, you head back to your spot and sank into the ground next to your bag and opened the book.

You heard them like usual before you saw them. Their loud whispers carrying through the air to you accompanied by their footfalls as they neared. You didn’t look up you didn’t need to, you knew they’d ignore you and you were fine with it. After a little bit, you couldn’t hear them anymore, getting sucked into your book you ignored the world around you, your mind falling into the faraway world of the book.

“Hey, can I sit here?” You were startled when the voice harshly pulled you out from your head and back to the real world. Lifting your head from your book you looked up. He was standing there with a soft smile on his face. His friends were gone.

Taeyong, Yuta, Johnny, they were always together, and you hated them all. You couldn’t help the words that fell out of your mouth.

“Did your friends ditch you or something? Go find them to sit with.” You quickly turned your head back to your book staring at the words on the page, but he didn’t move and you couldn’t read. The words morphed together on the page as the seconds ticked by before you looked back up at him. A slow laugh floated out his lips as you met his eyes.

“They did in fact leave me. They had a meeting for some class that they're in.” He was still smiling his smile more amused than before.

“You still can’t sit here.” You replied.

“Well,” He started and looked around, “I guess I’ll just sit over there then.”

He moved about five steps to your right and dumped his bag down taking a seat beside it and pulling out his laptop. You frowned in his direction glaring at him slightly before returning to your book trying your best to read and ignore the imposing boy near you.

You didn’t turn the page before he spoke again.

“Do you have a pen I could borrow?” You glared at him again before rolling your eyes and digging into your bag to grab an extra pen. You lightly threw it in his direction before going back to reading. Or at least trying to.

He cleared his throat again a couple of minutes later grabbing your attention, “Uh so do you have sticky notes?” You sighed deeply moving towards your backpack again to grab a pad of sticky notes and chucking it at him. The silence lasted about fifteen minutes before he spoke again.

“Do you -”

“No.”

The next morning you didn’t leave your apartment, you didn’t want to your brain was too weighed down to move out of your bed. You wasted away the morning falling in and out of sleep. At two pm your mom called, you sighed answering the phone. Her cheery tone coming in through the speaker asking you how your day was. You lied telling her about how you had a good day, making your tone much happier than you felt. You told her a false story about how great you did on your quiz for the sports medicine class and she cheered for you telling you to keep up the great work.

When she hung up you felt the tears prick at your eyes. Closing them as they stung you took large breaths to calm yourself down before forcing yourself out of bed. You dragged your feet into the bathroom and took a quick shower before getting dressed in warm layers of clothing and made you way out of your apartment. You made your way to the café two blocks away from your home. The warm ambiance of the café welcoming you in as you sniffled from the cold.

“Hey, wow you come to this café too?” His voice slammed into you as your eyes widened. You looked to your left from where his voice came. Taeyong was sitting at a table with his laptop open in front of him, an empty coffee cup pushed away from him and a half-eaten piece of cake.

“Looks like it.” You replied flatly before moving towards the line. Pulling your wallet out of your pocket you pulled out your card. You didn’t need to look at the menu you already knew what you wanted.

“What are you gonna get?” He was behind you.

“Didn’t you already order?” You asked in return glancing at him over your shoulder.

“I – uh well, yeah.” You turned your head back towards the front. “But I wanted another drink.”

You ignored him the rest of the time that you stood in line. When it was your turn you ordered a coffee and chocolate chip muffin.

“Anything else?” The barista asked smiling at you.

“Oh yeah, an iced americano as well please,” Taeyong said cutting you off before you could speak. The girl behind the counter didn’t bat an eye as she punched that in and then told you the total. You were staring at Taeyong with your mouth slightly open due to the shock that you felt. You narrowed your eyes at him and moved to pay, you were again cut off by him as he moved his card over the machine.

“I got this.” He said and smiled at you. You didn’t smile back.

“Well thank you I guess.” You said and moved out of the way so that the next person could order.

The both of you stood beside each other silently as you waited for your order to be done, your drink came out first followed by your muffin. You moved to grab them but Taeyong scooped them up before you could.

“Uh-”

“I’m just gonna take them to our table. Grab my drink when it gets out.” You scowled at his back as he turned away from you and went back to his seat. His drink came out not even seconds later. You thanked the barista and made your way over to his table. Putting his drink down in front of him you made to grab for your stuff and leave.

“Whoa, where are you going?” He asked grabbing your wrist as you grabbed for the muffin. “I bought it, come on the least you can do is sit with me.” You stared at him for a second, finally properly looking at him. His big eyes were looking up at you expectantly, his lips formed into a small pout. You sighed and wiggled your wrist out of his. This was the hockey team’s captain? His pout gave way to a large smile as you took the seat from across him. He closed his laptop as you got comfortable in front of him.

You took him in as you took a sip of your coffee, his dark hair was died a blue so dark you thought it was black, and his skin was smooth. It made you jealous just looking at him a hockey player had no business looking this…beautiful.

“You’re staring at me.” He said snapping you out of your daze.

“Why am I sitting with you?” You asked in turn ignoring the fact that you had indeed been staring at him.

“Why not?” He asked in turn, “It’s better than sitting alone isn’t it?”

You stared at him again, he took a sip from his straw you watched as his throat worked, swallowing the drink. You didn’t say anything in reply. He was right it was better than sitting alone, but he and his friends were a reminder of what you had lost.

The rest of your time was spent with him talking and asking you questions about your day, you told him the same story you told your mom.

The next day you had the sports medicine class again. Your alarm went off and today you got out of your bed not wanting to repeat yesterday. You dragged yourself up and got ready for the day.

The class was the same as always, you not paying attention as the prof spoke about whatever topic. When the class ended you didn’t pack slowly, today you packed quickly to get out of the room before Taeyong decided he wanted to talk to you again.

You rushed out of the classroom, and out the building, you were halfway down the stairs when your ankle rolled and you plummeted down the five stairs left. Your hand slammed into the ground hard and your foot ached. Luckily you didn’t slam your head into the ground.

Groaning you moved slowly to get up, grabbing the railing you heaved yourself up by using the hand that hadn’t been hurt. You took large breaths as you finally came to stand. People around you ignored you walking by you as you clung to the railing trying to not cry at the pain.

“Are you okay?” He was there staring down at you with a worried expression on his face. You couldn’t look at him for longer than a couple of seconds. Why was he all of a sudden everywhere? Why was he always around you? He didn’t even know you.

He came down the steps taking in how you were standing, noticing the water gathering in your eyes.

“Did you fall?” He asked. You only looked down letting your hair fall around your face. You didn’t need this from him. You didn’t need him to hound you, you didn’t need him to buy you coffee, you didn’t need him to sit with you in the library. You didn’t need his pity.

“Leave me alone Taeyong.” He didn’t reply and you didn’t look up. But he didn’t move away from you.

“Let me help you home.” You closed your eyes pain rolling up your foot as you put it flat on the ground.

“I’m fine I can make it myself. Just – just go away.” You moved off the railing talking a slow and painful step away from him. You couldn’t help but limp.

“You’re clearly not fine. Just let me help you.” He said grabbing your arm as you took another painfully slow step.

“Look I don’t need your pity.” You snapped at him yanking your arm out of his hand. He was silent for a second before he laughed. Snapping your head towards him again you frowned.

“You think I pity you?” Even though he laughed you could see that the statement bothered him. His eyes weren’t shining the way they always did when he spoke. “I don’t pity you Y/N. Some people can just be nice to others without having an underlying reason.”

You still frowned at him, but you let him take your bag. You let him wrap his arm around your waist as you wrapped yours around his shoulder and you told him how to get to your apartment.

For the rest of the week, he checked on you, making sure your foot was getting better, taking you anywhere you wanted to go. He kept you company and for the first time in a long while you felt less lonely.

Loud knocks pulled you away from the Netflix show you were watching. You knew it was Taeyong, only because no one else came to your apartment.

“You know I’m fine now. You don’t have to keep coming over.” You stated while pulling open the door. He laughed pushing past you. He put the takeout he brought onto your coffee table making himself comfortable on your couch.

“Maybe I just like you.” He spoke. Your breath stopped for a second. Like you. You turned away from him to lock the door. You willed your face to calm down as you turned back around, not having anything to say back to what he said. You made your way back to the couch and sat beside him. He passed you cutlery as he unpacked the food. You tried not to stare at him as he sat across from you on the couch and ate. Periodically stealing a glance, you tried your best to not be obvious. Halfway through the show that you had started, you stole another glance at him, only to find him already looking at you.

“You're cute you know that?” The words that he said didn’t register in your head. He leaned to the side of his hand getting closer to you. “The way you keep glancing at me thinking I’m not noticing.” Your breath hitched in your throat when he leaned further towards his other hand moving onto your thigh.

“I’m going to kiss you Y/N.” His face a centimetre away from yours. You didn’t stop him.

You didn’t stop him when that kiss turned from a simple kiss to something more. When his hands travelled under your shirt, into your pants. You didn’t stop when he guided your hand to him when he pushed himself into you. You didn’t stop yourself from letting his name roll off your tongue as the world split in two. You didn’t stop him when he pulled you close to him after whispering into your ear how perfect you were.

“I like you Y/N.” He said again as you drifted off in his arms, your head pressed into his chest. You didn’t stop yourself when your heart melted at his words. When your brain said them back to him. But you stopped yourself when the words made their way to your lips. You stopped yourself then.

You wanted to blame him still. You wanted to blame him and his friends still. But every day that he spoke to you, every day that he went out of his way to find you. You realized you couldn’t because he started coming with you to the library every Monday. He went to the café with you on Tuesday. On Wednesday he’d walk you home. On Thursday he’d bring over dinner to your apartment after his practice, and Friday to Saturday he was busy with hockey, so you didn’t see him. But each day that passed you realized he was not to blame, he was a kind-hearted boy who chose to see the good in the world, and for some reason, he was forcing his way into your life, into your heart. You found yourself looking forward to the moments that Taeyong would come and find you. To the moments where he would text you or call you at night to see how you were. He saw you, you realized, and he stayed. He stayed even though you were a mess. Even though you would snap at him, even though you didn’t deserve him. He stayed, he showed up. And slowly you were faced with the fact staring blankly in your face that you couldn’t blame anyone but yourself. Because despite everything you didn’t show up that day.

“Come on Y/N, Yuta will be there, and he actually invited us himself,” Ara begged. You just shook your head at her.

“I can’t today. I’m not feeling it.” You stayed seated on the couch as she tugged on your arm, a laugh erupting from you at her childish antics.

“But you’re my best friend in the whole wide world I need you there with me!” Her expression was desperate, it made you laugh even more.

“Sorry Ara, but I don’t feel like it. I’ll go next time though. If he invited, you once he’ll invite you again.” You reasoned. She stopped tugging on you and sighed obviously annoyed but letting you go.

“Okay fine.”

You passed out on the couch and woke hours later. Seven missed calls from Ara, and then a missed call from an unknown number only a couple of minutes ago. Confused you called Ara back, but she didn’t answer. Worry etched away at your stomach as you tried again, Again no answer.

The unknown number called again. You gripped the counter to not fall over as shock ran through your body your mind being taken over by a loud ringing you couldn’t understand what the voice on the line was saying any more just that she was gone.

You were pulled out of your head as your phone started to ring in your hand. Taeyong. You were sitting alone in your living room in the dark, your eyes glued to the phone as you tried to push away the dark thoughts that entered your head. The call ended the screen going black and a sense of urgency ripped through you a panic that rattled around your insides. Unlocking your phone quickly, you called him back.

“Hey.” He chirped through the phone.

“Are you okay?” It spilled out of your mouth before you could stop it. You sounded winded and frantic.

“Yeah,” His word was slow, “Y/N are you okay?” he asked in turn. You froze. No.

“Yes.” If you’d been awake and answered maybe she’d have answered just the way he did.

But you let her die. You didn’t go with her. Then you fell asleep and didn’t answer her call. She got into the car with a drunk idiot and died. You could have stopped it. If you had answered right away maybe she would have replied just like he did. With a happy ‘hey.’

“Y/N?” His voice tugged at you again, pulling you back to him and away from your own mind. “Are you there?”

“Yes, what did you say?”

“Did you wanna come out for a drink with me and the guys?”

“Yes.”

You didn’t understand why he was being so kind. You hadn’t done anything to deserve the kindness that he was just giving you. He was making sure you didn’t feel uncomfortable with his friends. In the time that you two had been hanging out he’d learned so much about you and you were realizing it only just today. He knew what drink you wanted and had it for you before you even got there. He let you sit on the outside of the bench in the booth because he knew you’d hate it on the inside. He gathered so much information about you in the time and you knew what? Nothing.

“So, you’re the girl that’s been keeping our captain busy for the past month and a half.” Johnny teased you once everyone had settled into their spots. You smiled at him red painting your cheeks. Taeyong pulled you into his side shooting Johnny a warning glare that you noticed.

You sat with them as they spoke about their upcoming game schedule. As they commented on the games that appeared on the screens all around the bar. You spoke only when they asked you a question or when you had a question yourself. You’d direct it to Taeyong, and he’d answer back softly explaining whatever thing you’d asked him about the sport he played. Slowly it became too much, you looked at the boys around you at the table, at their laughing faces and you realized you didn’t fit in here. You didn’t fit into his world. You didn’t fit into anyone’s world, you barely fit into your own. You didn’t deserve to sit at this table, not with the laughter that floated around you. You couldn’t help but feel that there was a laugh missing. This was what Ara had wanted so bad. To sit at a table with them. to sit next to the boy sitting right in front of you, she’d wanted to be tucked under his arm just as you were tucked under Taeyong’s.

“I have to go.” You said and abruptly got up, shocking them into an abrupt silence as you ran out the bar and down the street. Tears began to run down your cheeks, and you tried to get far away from them, far away from him.

“Y/N!” You didn’t look back, but you knew he was following you; you couldn’t take it. You didn’t deserve to sit with them, you didn’t deserve to be with him. Not when this was what she’d wanted. Not when she should have been here with you. With them.

He caught your wrist spinning you around to face him, but you didn’t look at him, you turned your head to the side biting your lip as tears ran down your face still.

“Let me go Taeyong.” You said your voice small and shaking. His grip on your wrist only tightened.

“No.”

A sob threatened to rip out your mouth. You closed your eyes and took in slow breaths.

“Talk to me, what’s wrong?” He said and pulled you closer to him.

“I – I can’t -” It was getting hard to breathe as you buried your head into his chest. He wrapped his arm around you holding you tight as you silently cried. Pulling away only slightly when you calmed down a little bit, he looked at your red face. Your eyes were swollen and your lips cracked. You looked like a mess, runny nose and all.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.” He spoke. You stared back up at him, you took in the way his gentle eyes looked at you the way his hair blew in the autumn wind, the way his ears were tinted red from the cold. You couldn’t help yourself you pushed up on your feet and pressed your lips against his. He instantly replied, his mouth moving against yours. His hands tightening on the fabric of your jacket. You kissed him until you couldn’t breathe again until every breathe you had felt like his. Until you couldn’t take anymore. You didn’t deserve him.

Pulling away from him you pushed him away from you.

“I can’t do this. I can’t -” You couldn’t finish your sentence. You ran away from him again. He yelled your name again into the night air, but you didn’t look back didn’t look to see if he was following. You ran, ran until your lungs were gasping for breath until your throat was so dry that you couldn’t swallow your own spit. Until your legs gave out and you fell onto the grass gasping for air.

This was how your life had been, this is what you deserved.

The following week you didn’t go to school, you didn’t answer any of his calls. He came to your door every day and you ignored him. You barely ate and slept. You didn’t even make it to the shower most days. I deserve this. You’d tell yourself over and over in your head. Until there were no other thoughts but those three words drowning you.

It was Monday, and he’d had enough. You could tell because the banging at your door was so loud that you could feel it in your head. You’d just gotten out of the shower and had gotten back into bed. Pulling the covers over your head. Slowly you got out of bed and made your way to the door. He wasn’t going to leave today. You could tell. You opened the locks and then the door.

The lights in the hallway were so bright they made him look ethereal. He was in a black bomber jacket paired with jeans. His nose and ears were red from the cold again. You squinted up at him. You watched his pained eyes take you in, the dark circles under your eyes the way you looked small.

“Go away.” You said, not being able to look at him any longer, not being able to stand the emotions in his eyes. He caught the door as you closed it, he pushed back against it opening it and moving in past you.

“Stop ignoring me.” He said and closed the door. He reached for you, his hand grabbing air as you stepped far out of his reach.

“Did I do something wrong?” His face breaking as he asked you. Your eyes widened at him and your heart cracked more than it already had.

“No.”

“Then why?” You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t say anything. He took a step towards you and you moved back again. “Why?” His voice was small, pleading with you. You closed your eyes as tears gathered again.

“I don’t deserve you okay?” Your voice harsh. You didn’t look at him as tears spilled down your cheeks, you turned your head down letting your hair cover your face. Opening your eyes, you watched as your tears hit the hardwood floor of your living room.

“I don’t deserve anything. She died because I couldn’t help her.” Your vision blurred more and more, as you spoke. You felt him take a step towards you and you took another back. “I’ll just ruin you.”

“Ara?” He asked. Your head snapped up to him, his eyes were tearing up as well as he looked at you. You were shocked that her name came out of his mouth. You put your hand over your mouth as a sob tore from you. He took another step towards you, and you took one back hitting the wall behind you. Finally, he had his arms around you, he pulled you into his chest.

“That wasn’t your fault.” He spoke. “That was on the guy who lied to her and told her he didn’t drink. That was on the guy who let her get into his car.” You sobbed into his chest as he spoke. “I know about her Y/N I was at that party. Yuta was wreaked for weeks after that. But it isn’t his fault. It’s most certainly not your fault. I didn’t realize that you were her best friend until Yuta told me after he met you at the bar.” You only sobbed harder into his chest.

“I can’t change your mind baby; I can just tell you that you deserve happiness. You deserve good things in your life. I didn’t know Ara, but I do know that she'd hate to see you like this.” His hand moved from the back of your head to the side of your face, pulling your face up to look into his eyes.

“If anything, babe I don’t deserve you.” He said, more tears slipped down your face. He was perfect. That was the only thing your brain could think as you looked up at him. His warm hand on your cheek, his arm wrapped around you. The warmth of his body against yours. Everything about him. He was perfect.

He put his forehead against yours, your breathing turning into his as your breathing became shallow. His mouth inches away from your own, your hand knotting into the front of his t-shirt you pulled yourself up, closing the small gap between you and him. His mouth was warm and careful. He was going slow, afraid you’d scare away. But you weren’t going to. You may not be okay yet, but you weren’t gonna get better without him. You needed him. You wanted him. He was your cure. You’d get better for him, with him.

Ara’s mother told you the day of her funeral that people never truly leave us, they come back to watch over us. You full-heartedly believed that this had Ara written all over it. Taeyong randomly showing up to sit by you in the library, at the café, helping you when you got hurt, calling you at the right time all the time, cheering you up before you could even get down, moving his way into your life. This had the scheming hand of your best friend all over it.

You deepened the kiss leaning into the wall, pulling him with you. His hand moved under your shirt pulling it up over your head, only leaving your mouth for that one second to get it over your head.

Somehow the two of you were in your bed, all your clothes gone, his mouth was moving down your neck leaving small marks down your throat on your collarbone to the swell of your breasts. With each bite a small moan left you, each kiss took your breath away. His mouth closed around the hard nub of your nipple pulling on it gently with his teeth, drawing his name from your mouth. His head moved lower, lower until you couldn’t take it anymore. Pulling him back up to you, you pressed your mouth against his, his tongue finding his way to yours instantly.

“I need you now.” You said, wrapping your arm around his shoulder. He looked down at you with so much emotion in his eyes, so much care you almost melted from just his gaze. “Please.” With that, he pressed his mouth back to yours lining himself up at your entrance. His lips moved against yours as he pushed in, swallowing your moan as he filled you.

You moaned, your mouth leaving his as his hips moved against yours. Only the sounds of moans and your skin against his filing up your small room.

He pressed his forehead against yours, “Look at me, babe.” You opened your eyes and held his gaze your back arched as the world faded to a bright white, his name rolling off your tongue as he nipped at your bottom lip. His thrusts became rushed as he soon followed moaning into your neck, before relaxing on top of you. You kissed him again as you both calmed down.

After some time, he pulled out, laying beside you and pulling you into his chest. He kissed the top of your head as you started to drift off.

“I love you Y/N.” This time you didn’t stop yourself.

“I love you too Taeyong.”

A/N: The next part will be Yuta’s I’m going to make this a three part trilogy! Please let me know your thoughts, it means a lot to hear what you guy think!

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