#The fic is very sweet and they go through a journey!

[morganismss]

loving in silence

Title Inspiration: Song, “we’ve been loving in silence” by MARO Pairings: Arthur Morgan x Reader Summary: “You and Arthur seek shelter in an abandoned cottage from a raging storm.” Content Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, smut, soft smut, fluff, fluff to smut back to fluff Other Tags: one shot, pwp, song fic, vague description of reader's physical appearance, female reader, slightly dominant reader, slightly submissive arthur, no use of "y/n", established relationship, high honor arthur Locations: Deer Cottage - Roanoke Ridge WC: 6.2k AO3 Link a/n: hii it's been a while! i worked wayy too hard and wayy too long on this but we got snowed in and i finally sat down and decided enough was enough. this is my first bit of writing in a several years so i am very rusty and i am the only person to proof read so please expect grammatical errors. i apologize if it's too wordy or too long! feedback is greatly appreciated though! i really hope you enjoy ♡

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The air was thick and heavy, sweet with the smell of dampened grass. Dark ominous clouds loomed out in the distance across the tree line in mountains of varying shades of grey. Distant cracks of light ripped through the sky followed closely by low rumbling, and threatening winds whistled through the tree branches blowing leaves all around you as you rode. 

It had been days since you left camp with Arthur for an adventure. Now, you two found yourselves in the hills of Roanoke Ridge about to get caught up in a storm.

You looked up to the sky above you and noticed the blue fading into green, darkening as the storm grew closer. The horses snorted in protest as you both pushed against the winds urging them forward. Fat droplets of rain started to fall one by one, tapping against the leather of your hat and fading into the hair of your horse. You looked forward to Arthur who was riding a few feet ahead of you on his own horse. 

Neither of you were expecting to be gone this long, and this storm was going to delay your journey back to camp by at least another day. He turned to look back at you, opening his mouth as if about to say something when suddenly the downpour came. 

The rain came fast and heavy, creating a thick veil you could barely see past. You shielded your face with your arm trying to stop the assault on your skin, your other hand held the reins and your coat tight to your body. “Up ahead!” You barely heard Arthur's voice shout back to you over another crack of thunder. You glanced upward past your arm trying to see through the curtain of rain and noticed a faint outline of a building off to the left side of the trail. Arthur spurred his horse forward with a faint “Hyah!” causing you to do the same and follow suit. Though difficult to see, you could just barely make out the details. It was a small log cottage with painted blue shutters, there was a covered well next to an outhouse, and a garden by the front door. It seemed vacant; no horses were hitched to the outside post and there was no stirring happening on the inside. It looked homely enough, but most importantly, it looked dry. The horses approached the cabin at a steady trot, their hooves squished into the mud as they reached the hitching posts. You swung your leg over the saddle and dismounted with a splash as your boots connected with the wet ground. The wind continued to rip through you as you struggled to keep your hat on your head and your coat from blowing open. 

Arthur clung to his own hat and ushered you along with him, his arm wrapped around your shoulders keeping you close to him as if afraid you would blow away with the winds. You couldn’t help but lean into him and his warmth, not complaining about how tight he was holding you. You two reached the door and Arthur knocked firmly. “Hello!” He shouted. “Anyone home?” The seconds passed by with no reply. Arthur muttered a curse under his breath. 

“I’m not standin’ out here all night.” His grip around you loosened as he took a step closer to the door. He took the handle in his hand and turned it open. A gust of wind pushed past you both and ripped through the threshold, snatching the door handle out of his grip and causing it to fling wide open with a loud creak. Arthur quickly drew his gun and turned to you. “Wait here.” He ordered. You nodded, your hand now hovered over the gun in your holster as he took a step inside, his revolver leading the way. 

Arthur turned quickly around the corners of the door frame, checking to see if anyone was there. You watched as he disappeared around the corner of the door and out of sight further into the cottage.

You stood there outside clutching your coat closed, quickly becoming drenched while waiting for his all clear. You glanced around you and looked back into the tree line and up the path from where you two had rode down from, not a single sign of life around. The winds continued to rip through the trees, snapping off clumps of twigs and leaves from their branches. 

“Anything?” You turned back and shouted impatiently into the cottage, not wanting to be stuck in this storm any longer. 

A few seconds passed without an answer and for a brief moment you held your breath, worried. Your hand wrapped around the handle of your gun and slowly lifted it from its holster. Suddenly, Arthur came back into your sight as he rounded the corner of the door, startling you. “Doesn’t look like anyone's home, c’mon.” He gestured for you to follow him inside and held his hand out for you to take. 

You let out your anxious breath and released your grip on your gun, reaching to take his hand instead. His fingers wrapped around yours as he gently pulled you inside, guiding you through the threshold and out of the rain. 

Upon first glance, the cottage was cozy and pleasant, an instant improvement from the usual filth and abandonment you had encountered in your previous travels. The door shut behind you and you breathed a sigh of relief to be out of the rain, reaching to take off your hat. Arthur chuckled at your sigh as he walked towards the kitchen, taking his coat and hat off and setting them down on the wooden table. You shrugged your wet coat off your shoulders and set it on the back of the chair that was positioned next to the fireplace to dry. 

The place was well furnished; wooden trim painted the same blue as the outside shutters, cabinets and shelves filled with books and trinkets, a stone fireplace built right into the wall adorned with trophy antlers and a golden mantle clock softly ticking away. The bed, positioned right beside the fireplace, was old and worn with faded bedding. The kitchen was well kept with clean dishes hanging up on the walls above the counter tops and decorative plates lined up along the shelves. Everything still looked lived in, like it hadn’t been neglected for long. Hopefully the homeowner wouldn’t mind if you and Arthur took shelter here for just the night. Arthur walked across the room, spurs clinking and wood creaking with each step he took. He knelt down in front of the hearth and prodded at the partially charred logs. He reached into his satchel and pulled out a box of matches, striking one before tossing it in. The fire slowly sparked to life as the flames clung to the logs, illuminating the room in an orange glow. Your body instantly relaxed as you felt the room begin to warm. “You think anyone's comin’ back?” You asked, concerned about the two of you trespassing. He stood up with a grunt and turned to you. “I don’t know, maybe,” his tone was low and his voice gravelly, “bread’s stale and food’s starting to rot. Been sittin’ out a few days at least.” He rubbed at his jaw, scratching at his grown in stubble. 

You turned and looked at the kitchen table Arthur had just placed his belongings on, noticing the half eaten and neglected food. You walked over to inspect the mess and wondered about the stranger who lived here, questioning what might have happened to them and if they were coming back. 

“We shouldn't stay long,” you say, “let's eat, get our strength back, and head back to camp.” 

At that moment, another clap of thunder cracked loudly through the valley as the rain and wind continued to slam against the wooden structure.

“I don't think headin’ back out in this rain is wise darlin’.” He hesitated, his heavy steps creaking the floorboards as he walked up beside you.

The way the pet name sounded against his lips made your heart skip a beat, but it wasn’t enough to mask your concern. “We’ve already been gone longer than we said we would. The gang’s gonna worry.” 

“We’ll leave as soon as the storm breaks,” Arthur walked to the kitchen window and peaked past the tattered curtains, “suns goin’ down too, we don't wanna get stuck out in the rain and the dark. It's too dangerous.” 

You frowned but didn’t protest, realizing your oversight. You knew it would be too dangerous, especially in these hills. The storm alone would make your path home much more treacherous, and between wandering the woods in the pitch black darkness and being surrounded by Murfree Broods, it would have been a death sentence to leave now. 

Arthur noticed the look on your face. “Hey,” the calm tone of his voice drew your eyes to his, “they’ll understand, ‘specially Hosea. We’ll get back tomorrow, it’ll be okay.”

“And if whoever lives here comes back and shoots us for trespassing?” You quipped.

“For their sake,” he paused, a smirk tugging at his lips, “they better be a faster draw.” 

You rolled your eyes and turned away from him and back to the kitchen table. You grabbed your satchel and rummaged through it, pulling out two cans of food and a wrapped loaf of bread.

“We still need to eat.” You sassed, holding a can out to him.

“Looks like someone’s already started without us.” He joked, pointing his thumb over to the neglected food before taking the can from you. You couldn’t help but chuckle at his joke. 

Arthur pulled his knife from his side and stabbed it into the top of the can. He peeled back the aluminum top and brought the can to his lips, slurping down its contents. You both hadn't eaten all day and you felt your stomach grumble at the sight of food.

“I bet this wasn't the kinda adventure you were expecting.” He spoke, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. You pulled out your own knife and cut off a corner of your bread loaf, bringing it up to your lips and taking a bite.

“I think I’d still prefer this to being shot at.” You chewed, cutting off another corner of bread and handing it to him. Arthur chuckled as he took the piece. 

“Yes, the rain is more preferable than being shot at,” you both were quiet for a few moments as you chewed on your food, “but this was a nice change of scenery for you, right?” Arthur's voice faltered as he started to grow self conscious about this trip he had taken you on. 

Arthur had decided to take you up into the mountains for a few days to teach you how to hunt and to look at the beauty of the mountain side. Thinking back, it was a bit strange how you were able to be out and away from camp like this. You rarely ever got to go on adventures, outside of running from lawmen and bounty hunters. For you, it was all chores, reading, and more chores and if you were being honest, you were starting to get sick of it. 

You longed to be a part of the action, even Karen got to help with heists every now and then, but not you. If you couldn’t help out on a job, you at least wanted to see more of the world. Arthur had all but gotten down on both knees and begged Dutch to let you come with him, talking about your “expertise in flower picking” or something of that nature, anything just to get you out of that camp for a little while. If it wasn't for Arthur, you would be back at camp right now probably doing laundry with the girls or helping Pearson with the stew.

“It’s better than dealin’ with Uncle’s drunken ramblings or gettin’ yelled at by Miss Grimshaw.” You joked as you ate the contents of your can.

Arthur didn't respond and you noticed the slightly unamused look on his face, realizing he wasn't joking. You swallowed and reached out to grab his hand, the touch bringing him some comfort. 

“Arthur, I've had more fun these last few days than I’ve had in a long time. Thank you for this. I mean it.” You told him earnestly. His eyes met yours as you gave him a smile and he smiled back.

“I think I’d rather be soaking wet in some stranger's home than dealin’ with Uncle too.” He joked and you laughed.

The storm had darkened more now as the sun fully set behind the clouds. You grabbed the neglected plate from the table along with both of the empty cans and placed everything in the kitchen sink. If anyone was going to come back, the least you two could do was not leave the place messy; you were outlaws, not pigs. 

You heard Arthurs heavy steps slowly come up from behind you followed by two warm hands sneaking their way onto your hips. His touch was comforting and you felt the butterflies erupt in your chest. He ducked his head down into your neck, placing his lips against your skin leaving gentle kisses along your shoulder. You tilted your head to allow him more access and closed your eyes with a contented smile. 

“Been waitin’ for this,” he hummed, lips and stubble brushing lightly against your warm skin, “wantin’ to be alone with you.” The vibration of his voice against your skin sent shivers across your body. 

“Arthur, you’ve been alone with me for days now.” You sighed, leaning back into him and feeling his chest rise and fall against your back. 

“Hmm, not like this.” His thumbs rubbed circles on your hips against the fabric of your clothes.

You two didn’t get to show your affection for each other much while in camp or around the others. Occasionally you both might steal a glance from each other while doing chores or you might catch one of Arthur’s longing stares when he got back from working a job; maybe even trade some secret smiles when he was alone in his cot or get to gently touch his hand for a brief moment in passing. 

All efforts made by you two for intimacy were quiet and discreet, like trading secrets only you two knew about. You both rarely got a moment alone together, but standing here in this space with him like this made the rest of the world around you disappear. The running, the bullets, the bloodshed, none of it mattered in this moment with each other. If you were going to be stuck here with each other, then you both were going to savor every second you could.

You turned around in his arms and leaned into him, his arms now wrapped fully around your waist keeping you as close to him as possible. Arthur ducked his head down to rest his forehead against yours. 

Thunder rumbled softly somewhere out in the distance and the rain continued to patter against the cottage as you both held onto each other, gently swaying to the ambiance. You wondered when was the last time you got a moment like this with him.

“Did you miss me?” You teased him already knowing his answer.

“Oh I missed ya alright.” He grinned and lifted his head back to look at you. 

You peered up at him through your lashes, the look in his eyes all too familiar to you. It was a look you only got to catch from him every so often, a look full of all the love and desire he had in him. He looked at you like you were a sky full of stars, and to him that’s what you were; dazzling and enough to shine through his darkest nights. The way he was with you in moments like these were a stark contrast to how the rest of the world viewed him, the way the gang viewed him. He was tender and gentle when he needed to be; when he wanted to be, with you. 

…

Arthurs head started to lean down to yours and your heart started to race. You met him halfway as his lips connected with yours like they were a missing piece to your puzzle, slotting against each other in smooth and slow motions. He was savoring the moment, the taste of you, he didn’t want to let it go. 

He couldn’t resist you no matter how hard he tried. Being near you back at camp but not being able to touch you was torture to him, and it was torture for you too. All those glances and brushes of your fingertips left you wanting more of him. 

It was a desire so strong that even now you couldn’t help your fingers from making their way from around the back of his neck to the collar of his shirt. You took the buttons between your fingertips and undid them one by one until his dress shirt was completely opened. Your hands lifted the hem over his shoulders as he helped to shrug the fabric off, discarding it to the floor and leaving his chest bare. 

Arthurs hands made their way to the buttons of your blouse, unbuttoning each one and slowly revealing your chemise underneath. Your lips separated for a brief moment leaving you breathless as one of his hands reached up to softly palm your breast, his thumb brushing across your nipple. 

The touch caused a soft moan to pass your lips that you couldn’t hold back. His lips feverishly connected back to yours as the sound you had let slip sent him over the edge, your tongues slipping between each other's lips leaving hungry kisses in their wakes. 

You felt as his hands continued to feel over your body, slipping underneath the fabric of your blouse and onto your back pulling you impossibly closer to his body. It all felt too good to stop, but you wanted to try something.

Your palms pressed against his bare chest, pushing him gently away from you. Your lips separated again and Arthur looked down at you with a concerned yet questioning look.

“Go wait on the bed.” You blushed at your sudden confidence. Arthur blinked at you for a moment trying to register what you had said and then looked at you pleasantly surprised, a wide grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Yes ma’am.” He flirted, nodding his head to you. You smirked back at him as he walked over to the old bed. He sat down on the edge and started to take off his boots, his eyes still glued to you not wanting to miss a single moment.

You continued to smile at him trying to hide your nerves as you kicked off your own boots. Your hands slipped the opened blouse off of your shoulders letting it drop to the floor near his shirt. Your fingers made their way to your waistline as you unfastened your ribbon belt, and your thumbs slipped under the waistline of your skirt as you tugged it past your hips. All of your garments fell to the ground in cascades of fabric leaving you to stand there in front of Arthur in only your chemise and nothing else.

He sat there on the edge of that bed, taking in the very sight of you, completely at a loss for words. His heart quickened along with his breathing and you could tell he was flustered. He wouldn’t admit it but he was a little nervous too. His face was flushed a deep red and his gaze softened, hungry eyes wandering up and down your body until finally meeting your own. 

The only thing he could muster in that moment was a soft, "C'mere." It was sensual yet wanting; it sounded like he was begging for you to come to him. 

You smirked slyly at him as your hands rose to your body. You slowly started to sway your hips from side to side, taking the sheer fabric of your chemise in your fingers and teasingly pulling the hem up ever-so-slightly over your thighs, teasing him with only a glimpse of skin. The wood floors creaked softly beneath your feet with each shift of your weight. 

You took a step towards him and your hands started to wander your body, gently feeling over your waist and up your chest. You took another achingly slow step towards him, and then another, keeping up with the same swaying movements. Arthur let out a frustrated and breathy chuckle knowing full well what you were doing, and he'd be damned if it wasn't working. 

You continued to move your hips side to side, slowly taking more steps closer to him until you finally stood there in between his legs. His hands connected with your body, finding their way to the space just above your hips. His fingers felt warm through the fabric as he gently gripped you, holding you close to him. He leaned forward and placed his lips against you leaving soft kisses across your abdomen, his warm lips separated only by the thin fabric.

You picked up your leg and placed your foot on the edge of the bed beside him, the inside of your thigh now brushed up against his ribs. His hand traveled its way along the curve of your hip, feeling along the outside of your thigh until reaching under your shift. His hand then felt its way back up the bare skin of your thighs. The warmth alone made you weaker to his touch.

“Shifts still damp,” he mused, his other hand feeling the fabric between his fingertips, “should probably take this off too.” Arthur shifted his eyes up to yours, giving you a soft look as if they were asking for permission. Your lips parted and you let out a soft breath, nodding your head slightly. His hands dropped the fabric and the grip on your thigh and made their way up your body, warm skin separated by cool fabric. His hands felt over every inch of your outline before finding the exposed skin at your collar. Two fingers slipped under the fabric and slowly glided the sleeves of your shift over your shoulders. The neckline of your chemise softly tugged down over your chest exposing you completely. Arthur continued, tugging the shift down your waist and past your hips, letting it fall to the ground in waves of white.

Thunder rumbled out through the trees again as the rain softly pattered against the windows. A subtle symphony to accompany this tender moment between your bare body and him. Arthur looked up at you once again, admiring the sight of you before him. Your hands found their way into his hair, fingers raking through his golden brown locks.

“You’re so beautiful.” He cooed, lips finding their way back to your body in praise. Your body was an altar he could worship at for the rest of his life, finding his salvation in your touch alone.

Without a word, you dropped one knee down onto the bed, and then the other, now straddling his thighs. His eyes never looked away from you once. He was being patient now, admiring every move you made and savoring every touch of your skin, but every second left him needing more of you. 

In a smooth motion, he softly took your face into both of his hands and brought you closer. Your eyes fluttered closed as his lips met yours again in more feverish kisses. His hands fell to either side of your bare waist as yours tugged at his hair. A groan passed his lips and against yours causing you to smirk into the kiss. 

You felt yourself growing hot and desperate for more, absolutely drunk on him. Your hands made their way down to his belt buckle undoing the clamp from the leather and then fumbling with the buttons underneath. You tugged suggestively at the open flaps of his pants. Arthur got the hint and hurriedly helped you get them off him, letting them fall onto the ground beneath you with a soft thud. There was nothing to separate you two now. 

Arthurs hands grasped onto your hips again as you climbed back on top of him and you felt his hard erection pressed against you. Your arms wrapped around his neck as your lips connected with his again. Your tongues shamelessly found their ways back to each other, slipping in between each kiss and gasp for air. Your body rocked against his as his hands felt all over you.

One of your hands dropped down and firmly grabbed hold of his member, the touch and warmth causing him to buck his hips slightly and groan again. You lightly tugged, stroking your hand up and down with pressure. You felt him pulse under your touch as he hardened more than before. He was achingly hard, and it was taking everything in him to not grab you and toss you onto the bed and selfishly have his way with you. 

Arthur's hand left your hip and dipped down between the two of you. You felt as his finger lightly traced the skin along your hip bone and down into your inner thigh, his fingers slipping right into your folds. You gasped at his warm presence as your hips rolled in response.

“Looks like someone’s ready for me.” He teased with a smirk, referring to how wet you had gotten. His finger slipped from your entrance up to your clit, swirling around the bulb, and you found yourself not being able to respond in words but in cursed moans instead. The sensation made your legs shudder as you closed your eyes and leaned your forehead against his. Your hips rocked forward with each swirl and you found yourself struggling to focus on your hand that was stroking him.

“Shit.” You breathed as Arthur continued his finger movements. You felt yourself getting closer, but as much as you would have loved to finish right there on his fingers, you wanted him. 

You moved his hand away before you could get any further and straightened up as you positioned his tip against your entrance. You looked up at him again searching for any sign of hesitation to stop. His eyes met yours and he nodded giving you the go ahead. You swirled his tip around your entrance before slowly settling down onto him, making sure to give yourself time to adjust to his size. 

You closed your eyes and let out a soft breath, your arms returning to wrap around his neck as you leaned your forehead against his once more. You slowly settled all the way down to his base, taking all of him in. You started to move yourself up and down, feeling him fill every inch of you. Arthur secured his arms around you as you moved, biting his bottom lip in concentration as he slowly thrust his hips up to meet you with each bounce. 

“Arthur.” You gasped as the softest of moan passed your lips. He loved hearing his name in the tone of your voice, and being the greedy giant he was, he needed to hear more of you. 

His hands gripped your hips as he guided you back and forth at a quicker pace. You threw your head back as another moan escaped your lips. His lips connected with your jaw leaving feverish kisses down your neck and subtle marks across your collarbone as he nipped at your skin. He groaned again against your skin as you rolled your hips, his hands moving to grab your ass and roll you forward on him again and again. 

It was just the two of you, skin against skin, bodies entwined and moving against each other like parts of a machine built to work with each other. No one else could touch you like this, not like how he could.

You tilted your head back as one hand gripped his shoulder for support, and the other gripped his bicep. Oh god, his arms, you thought to yourself and you bit your lip holding back another moan.

Arthur reached for your chin and angled your head back down gently with his thumb. He wanted you to look at him, but more importantly, he wanted to look at your face as he pleasured you. He wanted to see your puffy lips opening as you moaned out his name, he wanted to see your flushed face and furrowed brow twist into pleasure as he sunk deeper into you, he wanted to see the effect he had on you. 

Your eyes met his with your mouth agape as the moans spilled freely out of you. His thumb brushed against your bottom lip as you continued to grind up and down on him. 

“So damn beautiful.” He praised and you felt yourself melt in his touch, your heart pounding in your chest.

Your pace faltered for a moment as you leaned yourself back, your hands reaching behind you to steady yourself using Arthurs legs. Arthur leaned back mirroring you, both palms now on the bed behind him, the perfect view of all of you before him. You continued your pace as you moved up and down, his member slipping in and out of you.

You looked down at him underneath you, his face and body veiled in a thin sheen of sweat, his brow furrowed in pleasure and his face flushed as he moaned for you. It was unbelievably attractive to you seeing such a strong and stoic man like him reduced down to a blushing, panting mess, absolutely weak to your touch. 

You continued to bounce your hips up and down on him. Arthur shifted his weight to one arm as he brought his hand to his face. You looked at him confused for a moment as he licked his thumb. His hand now moved down between the two of you as his thumb connected with your clit, slowly swirling around. The movement amplified the pleasure you felt across your body and you knew you were getting dangerously close now.

“Arthur, I’m-,” you struggled to get the words out as the sensations became too much. You felt your legs start to weaken and your pace start to falter.

“That’s it darlin’,” his hips thrusted up to make up for the rhythm change, “keep going for me.” You tried your best to keep going between feeling him pound in and out of you and his finger swirling around your clit, until-

Your body suddenly tensed and you held your breath as you reached your climax, waves of bliss and release crashing over you, over and over again. You cried out as your body shuddered. 

Arthur continued his pace as you pulsed around his member, clenching tightly around him. His body rose up to yours again, hands grasping your hips as he continued to move you up and down on him, moaning into your neck over and over. Your hands cupped his cheeks and you lifted his head to look at you, your face burned as it flushed deep shades of red. 

“Come for me.” You whispered, your lips hovering over his, brushing slightly. His breaths were heavy against your lips and his moans grew louder until suddenly he stilled for a moment. He took your lips in his with one last grunt as his thrusts faltered, his kisses sloppy and irregular as he pumped into you.

Arthur pulled you down onto the bed with him, arms still around you. Both of you panted hard trying to catch your breaths as you slipped down beside him. You looked up to him and gave him a tired smile. His hand reached up to caress your cheek, they were calloused but you didn’t care as his thumb softly traced hearts along your cheek.

“How am I supposed to keep my hands off of ‘ya now?” He let out a breathy chuckle giving you that same look of love he always gave you. You grinned and wondered the same for yourself.

“Maybe you shouldn’t.” You suggested knowing damn well it wouldn’t last. You bet that within the day of arriving back at camp he would be all over you again.

He chuckled again. “Don’t think I could if I tried.” He pulled you closer and placed a kiss on your sweaty forehead and you rested your head back down between his collar and jaw. His fingers gently traced along the curves of your back leaving a tingling feeling in their wake as you sank into the warm feeling of his arms around your body, your eyelids growing heavy. 

The unrelenting rain drummed against the wood like a lullaby and for a moment you imagined that this cottage belonged to both of you. The pictures on the walls were of you and him, the trinkets on the shelves all collected from your travels together. You imagined living room dancing in the warm orange glows and more nights close to him just like this. It was a silly dream for a couple of outlaws but maybe in another life it was possible. 

Arthurs breathing evened out as he started to drift off and you hadn’t even realized your own eyes had closed as you replayed the prior events behind your tired eyelids. You let out one last contented sigh as you drifted into cozy darkness.

…

Morning light peaked through the windows and your eyes blinked slowly. The rain had long stopped and instead of hearing the thundering, you could now hear the birds singing in the trees. From this angle, you could look out the window and just barely make out the mountain ridge peaking into view of the window frame. Trees blanketed the surface in rich shades of green as the sun rays beamed out from behind the ridge line. 

You patted the bed around you reaching to touch Arthur, but you noticed he wasn’t there. You sat up in the bed holding the blanket close to your bare body and looked around the cottage. The chair you had placed your coat on the evening prior was pulled up beside the bed, all of your clothes dried and neatly folded resting on the seat, but there was no Arthur in sight.

You got dressed, grabbed your belongings, and headed for the door. You took one last look around and smiled slightly as flashes of the evening played in your head.

You stepped out of the cottage and back into the wilderness. The sky was a bright blue without a single cloud to blemish the sky. You wouldn’t have ever known a storm had passed through if you hadn't been caught in it only hours before. The leaves in the trees rippled lightly as a gentle breeze passed through. You took a deep breath and looked around, spotting Arthur tending to your horses. 

He was in the middle of feeding them, his hand rubbing along the bridge of his horse's nose as his eyes wandered over and caught yours. He instantly smiled upon the sight of you and waved you over and you couldn’t help but smile back at the sight of him too. You walked over to him and to your own horse and brushed your hand along its mane and neck.

“Mornin’ beautiful,” he greeted you, “how’d you sleep?”

“Haven’t gotten a good rest like that in a while.” You let out a relieved sigh and reached into your satchel, pulling out an apple and lifting it to your horse's mouth for it to eat. 

“A good workout will do that.” He winked and you blushed looking back to your horse. He smirked at your sudden shyness, not willing to forget any time soon the new side of you he saw last night. He reached out and took your wrist in his hand and gently pulled you to him. You melted in his arms as they wrapped around you and he pressed his lips to yours in a single passionate and loving kiss. You sighed into him not wanting to pull away, but you remembered the journey you two had to make back to camp. You pulled away and looked up to him. 

“Ready to get an ass chewin’ from Dutch?” You teased, turning to hoist yourself up onto your horse. Arthur groaned as he turned to get on his own horse.

“Maybe we should just stay gone another day.” He muttered knowing he wouldn’t hear the end of it from Dutch. Arthur wanted nothing more than to just bury his head into your neck and your warmth and stay here for a moment longer.

“Come on Morgan,” you pulled the reins of your horse and directed it towards the road, spurring forward, “maybe you could stop by my tent later tonight.” You turned back to him with a wink. He looked up towards you with a smirk playing at his lips.

“Yes ma’am.” He grinned as he followed you down the path and back towards camp.

[tiiracotta]

I participated in Dragon Age Big Bang 2024 as an artist for a lovely modern AU Adoribull fic 'time will change you' by @slothpoe!

[jeonstudios]

dextrocardia | 16

Dextrocardia. Originally a medical term, but also a way to describe someone who's got their heart in the right place.

"She's been moved to another operation to help out. This pairing is necessary because you'll be undercover as spouses. I know you two can be professional about this."

"What?!" It's Jeongguk's upset voice that sounds, and for once, you share his displeased opinion.

Spouses.

pairing: cop!jk x f detective!reader

genre: undercover cops, fake marriage, e2l au, angst, fluff, (smut?)

word count: 6.5k

warnings: none besides.... fictional police work...

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 16/? 

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© dextrocardia is copyright jeonstudios. this fic can not be modified, re-posted, or translated without my permission.

Despite everything, you fill with a sense of excitement as you drive off, Sana in the passenger seat beside you. It’s nice to feel like you have a purpose again, and even if you technically had one during the last mission with Jeongguk, it was overshadowed by the danger you believed resided under the same roof. 

It’s a comfortable journey, and soon enough the highway turns into a pristine neighborhood, bearing no trace of the traumatic events that occurred there months ago. Most of it looks the same as you remember it but other parts don’t. There’s an unfamiliar car parked outside ‘your’ house, and not only that, but glancing through the large windows as you cruise by, you spot movement inside. Children? You knew people would eventually move into the house–a house that never even belonged to you to begin with–but it feels weird.

Putting your more than illogical feelings aside, you focus on parking your car outside the Jungs’ house instead. Before stepping out, you and Sana give each other one last once-over. Despite the relatively low risk of this initial part of the mission, you’ve still made an effort to appear inconspicuous, and it’s not only for your own sake. Considering what they’ve done for you–Hoseok especially–you don’t want to be a bother if they’d rather not have law enforcement be seen knocking on their door.

It’s Eunha who opens the door, eyes going wide when they land on your face. For a second, your worry grows; what if your presence isn’t actually appreciated? At all? But then her lips pull into a smile.

“Oh, hello?”

“Hi, we were wondering if we could ask you a few questions? About another case, not… yours,” you find your greeting turning into rambling.

“Oh, uh, yeah, of course. Come on in. I’m a little busy baking at the moment, but Hobi is home, and I’m guessing he’s the one you really want to speak with?”

She wipes her hands on her light blue jeans, leaving a white, powdery residue on the fabric before opening the door wider. 

“Thank you,” you smile as you step inside, looking around to see that, as far as you can tell, everything looks the same as when you last paid the Jungs’ a visit. When you think about it, Hoseok never brought up the bugs you placed in their house, so you’re guessing they never found them. Or if they did, they haven’t brought it up for some reason or another. You’re not sure, but what you do know is that you’re not gonna be the one to do it, just in case.

“Make yourselves at home. I need to check on the cookies. Hobi!” she turns to call out into the house, “We have guests!”

With an apologetic smile, Eunha excuses herself, and then you and Sana are left alone in the entryway. You share some kind of look. Sure, you didn’t expect too much hostility, but to leave you, two detectives, unsupervised in their home? 

A second later, the sound of footsteps approaches, and you smile toward the brown-haired man as he comes into view, his confused features turning happy. He takes in the sight of you before he closes the distance to give you a warm hug.

“How are you? You look good!” he compliments, also turning to shake Sana’s hand, a very sweet smile on his lips. “Hoseok.”

“Sana,” she greets.

“I’m doing well,” you answer, “He is too; made a full recovery.”

Hoseok’s smile falls, and he takes on a rather baffled look instead. “We saw on the news. About the station and the investigation and all that. Crazy. I mean, we knew there were corrupt cops, but to that extent?”

“Yeah.”

“So what brings you here?” he asks, a glint slowly returning to his eyes. “Was it maybe something I said one time at a hospital?”

You nod, “Yeah. Can you tell us what you know? Or give us any tips at all so that we can stop Kyung Sunghyun once and for all?”

You watch him contemplate. Since he first let that comment about Ksung slip at the hospital, you’ve felt that he’s a good enough man to at least not mind Sunghyun being investigated and possibly put behind bars. But what can he say without incriminating himself for essentially planning a robbery? And can he trust you if he accidentally lets something slip? You might seem like you’ve stopped pursuing him, but can he trust you not to, ever?

“Why don’t we take a seat in the living room?” He gestures for you to follow him, and after quickly taking off your shoes and jackets, you do, with Sana in tow.

Sitting on the Jungs’ couch, you wait for Hoseok to get comfortable and for Sana to pull her pen and notebook out of her bag. 

“Hey, love?” Hoseok calls out to his wife, turning to the two of you, “You want something to drink?”

“Oh, water would be fine,” Sana accepts, and you nod, “Yeah.”

“Hm?” Eunha appears in the doorway. She seems to have more flour on her pants than last time.

“Could you bring us some water?”

“Of course. Anything else?”

Hoseok thinks about it for a second before he lights up, “Oh, do we have some of those brownies left?”

“Uh, yeah, I’ll bring a few pieces.”

“Thanks.”

As soon as Eunha leaves, Hoseok turns to you again, a look of concentration coloring his features. “So, what do you want to know?”

“Well, everything,” you say.

“Okay. I’ll warn you that I might not know as much as you think, and some things–not that I know them–I can’t say. I guess I can start by saying that, hypothetically, if I were a criminal of any kind, I would probably still stay as far away from other criminals as possible; especially if I had… valuables that might make me a target. No honor amongst thieves and all that, you know?”

Although his words deny any criminal activity, his expression reveals that he’s well aware that everyone in the room knows that he’s far from innocent. At least as far as the law is concerned. You watch him intently, waiting for whatever information he has and praying that it’ll help.

Sana drives you both home an hour or so later, you sitting quietly in the passenger seat and staring out the window as the world passes by.

“We need to tell Jihyo as soon as possible,” Sana says, “I can drive you home after if you want me to? Unless you’d rather stay with me?”

“No, it’s… fine. I’m fine.”

You are fine. Although it could’ve sent you into some sort of panic attack, it didn’t. It’s just a reminder of why you don’t trust men, and you feel yourself withdrawing instead.

Hoseok didn’t have too much info on the Ksung trafficking case. As you expected, they spent a pretty significant amount of time trailing Sunghyun and his closest men in order to map their routines. Not that Hoseok admitted it; it was very ‘hypothetical’. But from what you gathered, it was difficult to get close to the top men and almost harder to follow anyone. Then, when everything happened and Hoseok and Yoongi understood that you’d been watching them, they put the plans mostly on hold. Except for one thing.

“He, of course, doesn’t actually get his hands dirty if he can help it, and we weren’t–you’d have to be a whole team to keep track of everyone and what they’re doing. But …there might be a private plane flying mostly under the radar about once a month. Someone might’ve found… ‘receipts’ for fuel from different places, and when pieced together, they form a vague route.”

“I guess the question is, why the need to fly incognito? Is it possible it flies… cash or other valuables from the bank that they’d rather not have everyone know of?” Sana asks, and you nod in agreement. It’s a very valid concern; you wouldn’t want just anyone to know if you’re transporting valuable cargo, even legally.

“The plane is refueled more often and with less fuel than a cargo plane, according to the receipts. It seems to be a very small plane, with a correspondingly small fuel tank. And these days, flight tracking is the default; it’s definitely an extra step to opt-out. Sometimes even difficult to achieve.”

“So we’ll be looking into this plane, alright. Where are the receipts from? Is there a pattern? Somewhere we can go to see if we catch them as they’re refueling?”

“The first stop is around three hours from their headquarters, so you’d assume the plane is stationed around there somewhere, but it might have proved hard to actually find it. I’ll give you the coordinates for that and the other locations.”

“Thank you.”

It’s with genuine gratitude that you thank Hoseok. It’s truly ironic that one of the sweetest men in your story is a bank robber, while the police have taken on the role of your enemy.

“So how is your case coming along? You haven’t found them yet, I assume?”

You press your lips together briefly before sighing. You know you shouldn’t disclose anything, really, but again, with how much has been on the news, the public would’ve known if the wanted police officers had been apprehended. And they haven’t. You’ve been told not even the Jimin-lead actually led to anything.

So you shake your head. "Still looking.”

To your surprise, Hoseok looks to be thinking hard about something.

“Okay, so… this might not lead anywhere, but if you’re stuck and possibly trailing Ksung’s people anyway… rumor has it that Ksung has been paying off the cops for a while. Not sure what station, but maybe, someone–at least up until around two months ago–used to meet up with someone at seven a.m. on the fifteenth of every month. Like I said, it’s supposedly around two hours away from here, essentially smack dab in the middle between the closest stations, but given your previous colleagues’... reluctance to follow the law, it might be worth checking out.”

“But they’ve been on the run for months now,” Sana questions, “If Ksung has been paying for police protection or their deliberate ignorance, then what would be the point now? They don’t have anything left to offer.”

“Their silence, maybe?” Hoseok tries to offer an explanation. “They could be blackmailing Ksung into giving them the money they need while on the run. Pay up, or they’ll tip someone off?”

“If what we think about Ksung is true, wouldn’t he just… get rid of them if that were the case? Can’t be that much of a leap between trafficking and murder? Especially if they’re a threat to everything Sunghyun built?”

You adjust your position on the couch, sitting quite literally on the edge of your seat and looking at Sana. “Yeah, I honestly think so too. It wouldn’t make sense to let some of the most wanted people blackmail you like that. There’s a big risk that they’re caught and then they might blab and drag you down too. Better to get rid of them.”

“Maybe,” Hoseok adds, “But there were a lot of officers caught in the investigation, weren’t there?”

“Yeah. All fired,” Sana confirms.

“Again, I can’t promise it’ll help because it’s somewhat of a long shot, but what if you didn’t catch them all? What if…”

“--Someone’s still working at the station,” you continue where Hoseok trailed off. “And taking bribes?”

“And you think that person is helping Hoseong?” Sana wonders, her eyes wide.

“Don’t know, but what are the odds of two separate groups of officers being corrupt?”

You really don’t want to answer that.

Jihyo is surprised at your findings, but when you turn it around to look at it from another angle, it makes an awful lot more sense. Instead of questioning the odds of your two cases being connected, it’s not so strange to think that a criminal bank CEO might be bribing the town’s corrupt police. It’s just strange for you to have found yourself in the middle of it.

“So what do we do?” Sana whispers, glancing at Jihyo’s closed office door behind her.

“Wait. What’s today’s date?” Jihyo asks, her eyes going wide as she realizes what you’ve already had time to see.

“January fourteenth,” Sana explains.

Jihyo looks at you and Sana and the look you give each other. “No. We should wait for backup; the outsourced detectives will be here in a week.”

“We’ll miss the window,” you argue quietly.

Jihyo raises her eyebrows. “What if it’s not true? What if it’s a trap to get rid of you?”

“Set up by Hoseok? I don’t think so. He could’ve gotten rid of us today if he wanted to, and I don’t think he would; he saved us, after all.”

“Well, you more or less surprised him today, and people knew where you were, so it would’ve been stupid on his part. Getting rid of you while you’re ‘looking for someone else’ would be a better plan. And like you’ve said before, when he saved your life, he didn’t know that you were investigating him yet. Now that he does, he might’ve just been waiting for an opportunity. What are the odds of you finding all of this out on the fourteenth when the supposed meeting is taking place tomorrow?”

Well, when she’s putting it like that you have to agree that there’s a risk. Not a big one, you don’t think, but a risk nonetheless.

“I want to go,” you say before lowering the volume of your voice further, “If there is someone here still… if there’s a mole, we need to… we need to act as soon as possible. The longer we wait, even if we try to be discreet, the higher the risk of him finding out.”

Jihyo sighs, lifting her hand to rub her forehead until she seemingly decides.

“Fine. Do you want to go tomorrow? Together? Maybe you should bring someone else as well?”

“Who? We don’t know who the mole or informant is, and if you suggest bringing Jeongguk…” you trail off. Jeongguk is great, but this is not his area of expertise.

“He’ll want to go, regardless.”

“He’s not a detective.”

“He’s out on a call right now?” Sana asks.

Jihyo nods. “Yeah, I think so. Out patrolling, at least.”

“Don’t tell him,” Sana suggests.

“You don’t think it’s him, right?” Jihyo asks in disbelief.

Sana continues, “No, but… the more people who know, the bigger the risk. I think he’ll do more good here, keeping up the charades.”

A few hours later, you’re already in the car, heading toward the spot Hoseok pointed out on a map. The meeting isn’t supposed to take place until tomorrow morning, which gives you a valuable opportunity to scope the place out beforehand.

The sun has set by the time you reach a hill, the road ending in an empty cul-de-sac with a low stone wall overlooking the arches of a large, gray viaduct. There’s a road running parallel to you, only on the other side of the wall, below the hill. It doesn’t pass under the viaduct, which stands almost perpendicular to you, but instead turns to run alongside it. You lean your gloved hands against the stone wall, following the road and its sidewalk below with your eyes. 

The meeting point is supposedly a few meters from the sidewalk, up underneath the viaduct’s closest arches. From this spot, you can’t see beyond the arch, except for a few bushes and trees. It looks like it might be downhill.

Hidden by the elevation, the stone wall, and some trees, the current spot will be where you park the car tomorrow, and before checking in at a nearby hotel for the night, you decide to also check out the other side of the viaduct.

“So, how does it feel to be back for real?” Sana asks, stepping out of the bathroom and putting her toothbrush in her mouth.

Sitting on the bed, you flip through the TV channels. “Uh, good. I really missed this… feeling of having a purpose?”

She pauses the brushing, toothbrush still in her mouth as she speaks. “Mhm, I get what you’re saying. And… how does it feel, knowing that there might be someone we… missed?”

You take a moment to think about it. “I don’t know. I’m so used to walking around the hallways, paranoid of who might be waiting around the corner. Waiting for me to be alone somewhere. After a while, you just don’t have the energy to be that scared anymore.”

Sana nods in understanding, brushing her teeth thoroughly for another few seconds before she enters the bathroom again to spit the foam into the sink.

“Did you know that I basically didn’t fight them at all when they came for us during the undercover assignment?” you ask, fiddling with the remote on the white bedspread.

“Jeongguk mentioned something about feeling like you’d given up, but not a lot more. He wanted us to stay close and check up on you; said he thought the last year had taken a bigger toll on you than we’d assumed.”

“Yeah. I’ve been so scared for such a long time; felt for so long that I stand no chance whenever they actually decide to try it. I didn’t think there was any use in fighting them when they came, so I just… stood there. I closed my eyes.”

“But Jeongguk saved you.”

“He did, yeah. Let himself be stabbed by a fucking samurai sword.”

Sana’s quiet as she exits the bathroom again, a white robe in her arms. 

You let out a deep breath. “What would you do? If you were me?”

Immediately understanding, she sits down on the other bed. “I don’t know. I want to say that I’d give him a chance, but I think it might be easier said than done.”

You look down at your hands. “Yeah.”

“I do believe he’s a good guy, and I think he’s learned his lesson, but a relationship can’t depend on whether he’s good or not, if he deserves you, or whether you should forgive him, can it?”

“It shouldn’t?” you raise your eyebrow at her, smiling a little.

“No, I mean, you shouldn’t be with him if the answer to those questions is ‘no,’ but the next question is just… Do you want to be with him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then… does being with him make you happy?”

You feel your whole body practically answer her question. Your eyes drop sadly to the bedspread again, and your shoulders lift a little anxiously. “I think he makes me feel inadequate.”

She looks at you sadly. “You know that you’re not, though, right? You get to feel that way, and he has no say over your feelings because he’s the one who caused them, but you’re more than enough. We’ll support you no matter what you decide to do.”

Nodding slowly, you take another deep breath, getting up from the bed to brush your own teeth.

Usually, you find it hard to wake up fully when the sun has yet to rise and it’s freezing cold. Even the hotel’s hard but warm bed would be tempting you to stay in. But not today. The moment the alarm blares, you’re already reaching for your phone to quiet it, sitting up and looking around. On the other bed, not far from yours, Sana is rubbing her eyes and yawning. Today’s the day you might actually find a good lead.

Due to the nature of today’s assignment, you’re armed, just in case, and you’re clipping small body cameras to your thick, black jackets. On your head, you’ve got black beanies, and your hands are gloved as well to withstand the cold.

The sun still hasn’t made it far on its journey across the sky when you park the car in the same spot as you did yesterday. 

“I’m in my position,” Sana informs through the earpiece. You dropped her off closer to the other side of the viaduct, where she’s currently hiding a little farther down a walkway and behind some parked cars. 

“Good. Me too,” you confirm, leaning your elbows against the wall. Thanks to the trees and the relative distance, you’re well hidden as you kneel behind the stone wall, focusing on the meeting point through your black binoculars.

“It’s five fifty a.m., and we’re both in position,” you repeat, more so for the recordings.

“And so we wait,” Sana concludes.

Despite the thick jackets, it doesn’t take long before you’re freezing. If you could, you’d sit in the car, at least to be protected from the biting wind, but the angle from there wouldn’t let you see over the wall. Sana complains quietly about her fingers while your cheeks hurt the most. Every glance at your watch is painful.

Six fifty arrives, and you focus further. But there’s no one. Once every few minutes, a car or two passes on the road below you, but that’s it. Seven o’clock. Still no one. You’re starting to fear that maybe you missed them? Did they change location? Or maybe they decided on another time? What if they really just stopped meeting up, altogether? Hoseok didn’t seem too sure, after all. You bite your lip, trying to keep your cold body still. If there is an informant, you need to catch him.

Then, at seven twenty, you hear something. It’s the rustling of thick fabric as Sana adjusts her position.

“Dark-clothed male, moving in. 4 o’clock.”

As slowly and inconspicuously as you can, to not draw attention, you turn your head. Sure enough, a man is walking on the sidewalk below and to your right. 

Just like you, he’s dressed in all black, a bulky jacket covering most of his body except his legs. He’s got the hood pulled over his head and his hands in his pockets.

“Can you get a visual of his face?” you ask, watching wide-eyed as he passes below you.

“No, he’s got something–a shirt or something–pulled up over his mouth and nose.”

“Okay, looks like he’s headed for the viaduct,” you say, waiting to see if he follows the sidewalk as it turns to run parallel to the viaduct, or if he steps in under the arch. “We’ll wait and see if anyone else shows.”

But the man doesn’t stop to wait for someone. He steps off the sidewalk, casually walking over to the closest of the huge pillars, graffitied in blue and green, and swiftly retrieves something from under a small bush. A bag?

“It’s a dead drop,” Sana exclaims as the man continues on his path, heading in her direction. It only took a few seconds, and anyone less observant would’ve missed the pickup. 

“Do you recognize him?” you ask, on the edge of your seat. “Can you follow?”

You’re too far away to follow him on foot, and driving down would be impractical and likely draw his attention, so you stay put.

Instead, Sana moves, the rustling loud in your ears, and you hold your breath. It’s always more nerve-wracking to watch someone else pursue and track a target than doing it yourself. If this man discovers her, you don’t know what will happen, much less what he’ll do if he recognizes her.

The man disappears from view, and for a while, all you hear is Sana’s breathing and that same occasional rustling of her jacket as she moves. Then, there’s a bout of silence before her quiet, shocked voice comes through. 

“I can’t follow him further; he’s getting into a black car. I… I think it’s JJ.”

As quickly as possible, you drive back to the station, wondering if you ever missed a clue about JJ. Considering how many men work at the station and how you’ve had to keep a very close eye on some of them, JJ has flown under your radar a bit. The tall man wasn’t anyone you’ve paid much attention to or interacted with, but he never came across as weird or suspicious; just as a regular man. He never outright harassed you, but he never stood up for you either, but then again, he wasn’t the only one using that approach. Additionally, you’ve seen him with Jeongguk a bunch of times, and you figured Jeongguk had cleared all the remaining men. Not that it’s Jeongguk’s fault, but still; you don’t think he’s easy to fool.

“How sure are you?” Jihyo asks in a hushed voice, her worried eyes flitting between you, Sana, and the closed office door. You know JJ is already at the station, you walked past him in the hallway, dressed in uniform. You weren’t able to follow the man, but considering you had to wait a bit and then drive down to collect Sana, it’s entirely plausible he made it back before you.

“Like eighty percent. It was hard to see, but… I’m pretty sure. Don’t know if I captured anything of value, but we can go through the recordings to be sure?”

“Maybe we can look through the work schedule as well?” you suggest. “If he hasn’t been clocked in at seven to eight a.m. on the fifteenth of the last few months–probably since they went on the run–then–” 

“–We still can’t rule him out,” Jihyo interrupts sadly. “Even if he’s been clocked in, he–maybe together with his partner–could’ve simply driven there while on duty, assuming they weren’t on an active call. Maybe not super likely, but not impossible. So if he’s been clocked in, we’d need to look at those exact hours and place him on specific calls.”

“Which might take a while,” Sana adds, and you nod, realizing that she’s right.

Your heart races. “So what do we do?”

“His car’s in the garage, right?”

Jihyo gives Sana a warning look. “We’ll need a warrant to search it, and this is not enough for one.” 

“But not to take a look through the window,” you say, biting your lip and meeting Sana’s eyes.

You wait for Jihyo’s objection, but it doesn’t come. “Be careful,” she whispers instead, following you toward the door. “If there’s one, there might be more.”

“Yes, boss.”

Being the first one to step out of Jihyo’s office, you glance the other way, just in case JJ happens to be watching. However, you don’t look where you’re going, and of course, you run headfirst into someone’s chest.

“Hey,” a deep voice says, its owner steadying you by your arms. Of course. 

Embarrassed, you look up, only to meet Jeongguk’s dark eyes. He’s dressed head to toe in uniform, the sleeves rolled up to expose his veiny forearms, tattoos and all, and it’s clear that he’s on his way out to patrol. You didn’t know he was really patrolling again, but then again, it doesn’t seem like they were getting anywhere on your case, and well… you don’t talk much these days. Like always when he’s near, your heart rate picks up, and your skin heats under his hands despite the fabric between you.

“Uh, sorry,” you apologize, looking away. You know you’re normally a pretty good actress, but today, you just feel too wound up and on edge. Jeongguk holds onto your arms, his observant eyes gazing over you.

“Is everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah. Everything’s fine,” you say with a nod, glancing at Sana. “But we need to go.”

But Jeongguk doesn’t give up. “There’s something’s going on, isn’t there?”

“No,” you lie again.

“You’re making me worried.”

“You don’t need to be.”

His gaze flickers between you and Sana, and even though you don’t think he’s completely buying it, he lets go. “Promise me you’ll tell me if you find out anything.”

“Yeah, okay,” you say, already moving away. Technically, you being ‘off’ can simply be explained by the fact that you’re not entirely comfortable around him.

After getting rid of Jeongguk, you and Sana enter the station’s parking garage. The personnel floor is empty, save for about twenty to thirty vehicles, Jeongguk’s motorcycle included. Still, you make sure to look around before you start.

“What did the car look like?” you ask, peering through the back window of the closest one, a small dark blue car.

“Unfortunately, I couldn’t make out much besides the color and size. It was black and a pretty small one, I think.”

You look around. Almost all cars are black. Or at least dark enough to be mistaken for black. "Do we even know what his actual car looks like?"

“Well... Let’s just check all of them. Just to be safe.”

Even though you make sure to check carefully, the process goes quickly. Until Sana calls your name quietly, the black car in front of her being her sixth or seventh.

“That could be it, right?” she points toward something barely visible, halfway under the passenger seat. But yeah, it looks like black fabric, maybe part of a small bag, but you can’t be entirely sure.

“Yeah, maybe.”

“If we could only look inside,” Sana mutters.

“Yeah,” you sigh, your shoulder dropping in disappointment. “But all he did was maybe pick up a bag of unknown contents outside. It’s not enough. Should we just check the rest of them and then head back?”

Sana nods, “I’ll finish this row.”

Jihyo is still in her office when you return, having found nothing but the maybe-bag. She’s pacing on the phone to someone, motioning for you to enter when you cautiously peek your head through the door.

“Okay… Just get back to me as soon as you can, alright?” she says, sitting down behind her desk. “Yeah, okay, bye.”

“We saw what we think could be the bag, halfway hidden under the seat of a car that looks about the one the man got into,” Sana explains quietly after you’ve closed the door behind you.

“Okay, so nothing’s ruled out and nothing’s confirmed,” Jihyo concludes.

You nod, trying to think of the next steps. “Well, what if we review the camera footage? We were probably too far away, but you never know, right? And Jihyo, you could check the schedules and work hours, start cross-checking them with the calls responded to. I’ll see if I can dig up anything else about him.”

For a few hours, you work in Jihyo’s office, all three of you focused. Jihyo sits behind her desk,  trying to see if she can match JJ to specific calls on any recent fifteenths and thus provide him with an alibi. 

Sana sits in a chair on the other side of the desk, her laptop open in front of her as she goes through every frame of your recordings, and you sit on the floor, back against the wall, scrolling through both your phone and laptop. 

“Finding anything?” Sana wonders, sighing in frustration–a sign that the recordings aren’t giving her anything useful.

“Maybe…” Jihyo replies, eyes locked on her screen. “Can you read line thirty-seven for me?” She hands Sana a sheet of paper listing the calls.

“Sure. Uh… Call about vandalism came at six twenty-seven a.m., reported closed at eight thirty-two. October fifteenth, last year.”

“Six twenty-seven to eight thirty-two,” Jihyo repeats as you scroll through JJ’s instagram, clicking on yet another tagged friend.

“Mhm,” Sana hums.

“Well, he was clocked in… But it seems like… yeah, Min and Mark were the ones who responded to it.”

The room feels… tense in a way, something Jihyo is about to put into words. Meanwhile, you focus on your phone, fingers tapping away quickly and your heartbeat rising.

“Doesn’t seem like we can rule him out. Which, you know, sucks because we all trust him–maybe trusted him–and we don’t want yet another one to have betrayed us. But if it is him, then maybe… we might finally be getting somewhere? Maybe?”

“Yeah, I agree. Don’t like the direction we’re moving in, but at least we’re moving.”

“Hey, guys,” you say, your eyes still glued to the screen in your hands. “JJ has a stepsister named Jimin.”

“What?” Sana exclaims, her voice hushed and eyes wide as she turns to you.

“Yeah. JJ’s mom seems to be dating this Jimin’s dad, but it doesn’t look like they’re married; not even like they live together.”

“So there are no ties on paper?”

“No, no ties.”

All three of you exchange silent looks, realizing what this could mean. You might have an address.

After discussing your findings–all hushed voices and big eyes as you conclude that, yeah, maybe Jimin visited her brother at the station and stumbled across Hoseong–you decide to take a break. You need to pee and Sana complained only a minute ago of her rumbling stomach. To be fair, you haven’t had time to take any real breaks, much less eat.

Determined, you leave the office, discreetly looking around before heading toward the bathroom. Sana leaves for the cafeteria.

After using the bathroom, you sit on the closed toilet lid to gather your thoughts. It almost feels like you need to catch your breath, too. Do you dare hope that you might finally get them? Still, you find yourself imagining what you’d do if that were the case. It’s not like they’ve haunted you for decades, but even a few months stretching into years feels like such a long time. A lifetime, almost. You experienced life at the station before everything went down, but is it even possible to return to that? Maybe it isn’t; you’re not the same person anymore.

Still thinking deeply about what this revelation might mean, you head back toward Jihyo’s office. Occasionally–like now–the white halls are empty, but as you approach the wooden door with the frosted window, you hear voices inside. They’re not abnormally loud per se, but louder than they should be.

You open the door, and for a moment, the voices fall silent. Already back, Sana stands with a Saran-wrapped bread bun and coffee in her hands. Jihyo sits behind her desk as usual, her laptop open and the call papers scattered across her normally tidy desk. And Jeongguk is standing in front of it, still in his uniform, wild eyes looking back at you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It wouldn’t have changed anything for the better,” you say, stepping in fully and closing the door behind you. “You’re with the guys more than we are. We don’t want them to find out.”

“There’s a risk anyway,” he says, turning to Jihyo, “We need to go there as soon as possible.”

Jihyo meets his gaze, her expression understanding but firm. “Jeongguk, like I said, we need to wait for backup. We’re understaffed, and there’s too much of a risk that they’ll recognize you. Besides, all of you inside this room are too emotionally involved at this point.”

His hands fly out, and though he tries to keep his voice down, frustration seeps through. “They were allowed to watch JJ accept a bribe in the first place?” he argues.

“Yes, and that was risky enough. If they recognize you, they’ll probably try to kill you. They’ve got nothing to lose, and you’re the reason they’re in this mess to begin with. Just hang in there until backup arrives.”

He shakes his head in frustration and disbelief. “This is crazy. They’ve tried to kill her so many times, and someone connected to them is still here. For all we know, he could be planning something on their behalf as we speak!”

“I don’t know what to tell you. I understand you’re frustrated; we all are, but this is the best course of action.”

He gestures toward you, “She needs to leave in that case. She can’t stay here.”

To be honest, you’re not that scared of JJ. He’s never seemed particularly interested in you, and you don’t think he’s planning to kill you or anything like that. Months have passed without you even suspecting he might be involved, and nothing has happened. Sure, you were mostly with Jeongguk until recently and not that often at the station, so while the opportunities might not have been plentiful, JJ has had his chances.

Jihyo sighs, leaning back in her chair. “It’s up to her.”

He turns to face you fully. “Come stay with me? Take a week off, stay at my place.”

You shake your head. “No, I’m staying at my place, and I’ll continue to work if I feel like it.”

“Please?”

You’ll never stop being surprised at how easily Jeongguk lets go of his pride. But by doing it so quickly, with so few reservations, it’s almost as if he grows in your eyes. You try not to think about him in that way.

You shake your head. “I don’t want you to think that you need to save me all the time. I’ll be fine on my own.”

He glances around at the three women in the room, none giving him the support he wants. He looks like he wants to say something, but suddenly, someone calls for him on his com radio.

“Go,” Jihyo instructs as Jeongguk gives you one last longing look before quickly exiting through the door.

Jeongguk can’t shake the new information, and as the day progresses, it keeps gnawing at him, his mind turning over every possible option again and again. While that last call–regarding a break-in—kept him distracted for a bit, his thoughts return as he enters the station again, Min heading off to the cafeteria.

He knows you’ve already gone home by the time he’s clocking out and heading for the locker room, still unsure of what to do. It terrifies him to know that there’s still someone who might want to hurt you, walking these halls. That he missed someone. 

He’s got three options to choose from. The first: go home. Get some sleep. Or at least try to get some sleep. And then just hope that JJ didn’t spot you this morning and is waiting to attack you outside your apartment door. Jeongguk knows that it’s what you want him to do; go home and not get involved. But he’ll never forgive himself if something happens to you.

Option two is to drive to your apartment and sit in his car outside it all night. He’ll do it if needed, but it’s not very tempting, and it’ll render him useless at work tomorrow. Additionally, if nothing happens tonight–which, yeah, it might not–then he’ll need to guard you the night after as well. Sooner or later, he’ll need to sleep.

Biting his lip, he enters the locker room, taking a lap to make sure he’s alone before pulling out his phone. Google gives him the number to the nearest car rental, and he wastes no time, pressing ‘dial.’

He’s picking option three, and he needs a car that isn’t his.

<previous | next>

author's note: i hope you liked it!! <3<3

[hwaslayer]

vivrant thing (jwy) | six. (final)

—SPOTIFY PLAYLIST / SERIES MASTERLIST

—SUMMARY: after getting into a little accident, wooyoung decides to do his sister a favor by pretending to be your date at the company summer party. as soon as the night ends, wooyoung would go back to his usual routine of hanging out with his boys, keeping his distance from committed relationships and being a typical brother to jiwoo. except, the favor comes with more than what wooyoung expects and he finds you occupying his mind more than usual. 

—PAIRING: jung wooyoung x f. reader

—GENRE: (18+ - minors dni) bestfriend’s brother au | fluff, angst, smut

—WORD COUNT: 8.6k

—CHAPTER CONTENT / WARNINGS: cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, date night, the spot mentioned is inspired by an actual place in sf (i will not name it here tho because of spoilers lol pls feel free to message me if you'd like to know)!, half-up-half-down-haired wooyoung, alcohol consumption, corny pickup lines!!, lots and lots of kisses, sweet affectionate moments, woo x oc are literally so cute idek what else to say besides it should be a warning itself lol, making out, oral (f. receiving), fingering, handjob, unprotected sex, breast play, multiple orgasms (2), we love a good ol' jung family moment lmao

—ON ROTATION (all in the playlist): i like the way (the kissing game) - hi-five • fantasy - mariah carey • we can freak it - kurupt • let's get down - tony! toni! toné! & dj quik

—A/N: thank you soooo much for all your love on this fic and for coming along this lil journey!! 🥰 i appreciate it so SO much! stay tuned for more wildfire & other fics to come .. <33

"Papa. Call me or Wooyoung if you need anything, okay? We'll come." Papa brushes you off as he sits on his couch, blanket folded neatly and placed ontop of his lap.

"I'll be fine. I promise."

"Pinky swear?" You raise your pinky in the air and he does the same.

"Yes, pinky swear." He laughs a bit. "Now please, I need you two to have fun on your date. Don't worry about me. No if's, and's or but's. You and Wooyoung have been taking care of me so much, that's all I'm asking for." You tilt your head to the side before you playfully roll your eyes and smile. Papa can't help but return the smile because he hasn't seen you glow like this in years.

—FLASHBACK

"Woo." You finish gathering Papa's old clothes into the bag the hospital gave you, Papa sitting on the edge of his bed in the new sweatsuit you bought for him. "I'm gonna go find his nurse, I wanna give her the gift before we go." You set the bag next to Wooyoung as he finishes cleaning up around Papa's bed, getting ready to take him down to the car.

"Okay. We'll wait here." Wooyoung sits on the chair, asking if Papa needs anything else before leaving. He finds his attention shifting towards the door when he feels a figure suddenly come into his peripherals. "Oh shit, you scared me."

"Hey, sorry." Yeosang peeks in through the doorway, softly knocking against the frame.

"All good." Wooyoung looks at him, with Papa turning his attention towards Yeosang as well.

"Oh, Yeosang! It's good to see you."

"It's good to see you, too." Yeosang slowly steps forward after giving a curt bow. "I'm sorry I'm a bit late, I meant to visit yesterday but got caught up with some family things. I see you're getting ready to head out!"

"Yes, finally getting out of here." Papa chuckles. "Don't worry about it. The thought is what counts." Yeosang nods before shifting his weight from one foot to another.

"Glad to see it." He smiles. "Is Y/N around?"

"She went to go find the nurse. She should be back in a few minutes if you wanna wait around." Wooyoung looks at him. "She'd be happy to see you."

"Thanks."

"Do you need to use the bathroom or anything?" Wooyoung asks Papa to try and distract himself from the awkward energy lingering in the room.

"No, I'm okay." Wooyoung nods. Lucky for him, you come prancing in at that very moment— stopping in your tracks when you find Yeosang lingering around the room. You give him a small smile, approaching him sweetly like you always do. 

"Yeo."

"Hey. Sorry. I meant to come yesterday, but I got busy. I got worried when I didn't see you at work, but Jiwoo told me what's been happening." You shake your head.

"Don't worry about it."

"No, I'm sorry for not checking in on you sooner when I should've. I've been letting my feelings get in the way and it's unfair to you."

"It's okay, Yeosang. Seriously. I understand, and I know things will take time."

"Are you going to stare any harder?" Papa whispers to Wooyoung and he knits his forehead in response, purses his lips together tightly.

"I could try." Wooyoung is slightly taken aback when you start giggling at Yeosang, hand on his arm as he continues to apologize and promises he'd be a better friend moving forward. "Hm. That giggle sounds new." Wooyoung looks at Papa and he laughs it off. "It's at a new pitch. Haven't heard that one before." Wooyoung stands, grabbing Papa's bag of things from the chair.

"I'm sure she just missed her friend." Papa smiles at Wooyoung and squeezes his shoulder. 

"I'm glad you're doing better." Yeosang turns to Papa.

"Thank you, and thank you for taking the time to drop by." Yeosang nods before giving Wooyoung a small, toothless smile.

"Anyways, I'm gonna get going so you guys can take your leave." He turns to you. "See you next week?" You nod, waving him off as he heads out the door.

"Where'd you learn to giggle like that? In all my years of knowing you, I've never heard that one. Had a 'lil kick to it." Wooyoung slips his hand in yours as you all slowly begin to leave the room, his other hand holding Papa's bag.

"Wooyoung." You whine and he laughs.

"I'm kidding." Wooyoung looks down at you. "Are you guys okay now?"

"I think so. We will be. But, I'm more confident after today."

"That's good. I'm glad you guys got to talk for a bit."

"Mmyeah."

"Do you feel better?"

"I do."

"That's all that matters."

—END

"Okay. I'll swing by tomorrow." You give him a quick hug before rushing out and heading back home to get ready for your date. You smile to yourself knowing you'd get to spend time with Wooyoung soon. He didn't give you the details of your date besides being ready at 7pm on the dot for dinner and to.. bring a small item or trinket that's unique?

"So, what did you end up deciding to bring?" Jiwoo asks over the phone while you have her on Facetime, adding some mascara and a bit of blush just like she had taught you.

"Mhm." You hum. "The vintage 1972 9ct gold sea pearl ring."

"Ah, so not the vintage Mickey Mouse ring?"

"No." You giggle. "I kinda wanna keep it."

"I figured." Jiwoo chuckles. "I wonder what Wooyoung is up to. He wouldn't budge when I asked which date idea he settled on."

"Didn't think he would." You chuckle. "I'm surprised you didn't find out from this detail alone?"

"No. He only gave me really vague descriptions. I'm sure he knew I'd figure it out and accidentally spoil it." You faintly hear Hongjoong in the back respond with a 'yeah, we all don't want that.' "I have to give it to my brother, though. He does think of the best and most unique ideas for our family outings. He definitely settled on something different."

"I'll let you know how it goes." You sigh, pressing your lips together after you've put on some clear, sparkly gloss. "So, all good?" You flip the camera to the mirror to show off the outfit Jiwoo helped you pick. It's a tight, black rib-knit long-sleeve, cut-out mini dress with simple black knee-high boots. Wooyoung made it very clear that the formal dress-code was strict; a suit-and-tie, pretty dress kinda vibe if you will.

"Perfect. My brother will be all over you." She pretends to playfully gag. "Cute! But, gross!" You chuckle and roll your eyes. At this point, you hear someone climbing up the steps before doing a faint whistle, followed by the [cute] calling of your name outside your unit. 

"Your brother's here."

"Have fun! Let me know how he does." You nod before giving her your last goodbye and ending the call. You head to your door, swinging it open to Wooyoung standing there with the most beautiful bouquet of your favorite flowers: peonies. Wooyoung smiles when he sees your eyes light up at the flowers, the peonies ranging in color from white to light pink.

"Woo." You pout a bit. "They're so pretty."

"Nice! I'd hope so, I ran my ass around town to find the best looking one." You giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck for a tight hug. He holds you tightly, placing a light kiss to your temple before pulling back and ogling at you from head to toe. "Sheeeesh. Optimus Prime gotta make way for Miss Optimus Fine over here." Wooyoung finds himself completely smitten over you; the dress [yet again] fitting your curves perfectly, hugging your ass tightly. He loves how you normally dress, don't get him wrong. But, the rare moments when he gets you like this— he swears he gets heart palpitations.

He could lose himself right then and there.

"You—Stop it." The heat rises to your cheeks as you shyly take the flowers and quickly throw them in a vase with water. "Thank you." You give him a shy smile and he laughs.

"You're so cute. Ready?" You nod, sitting to sift through your purse and make sure it has all your necessities. Wooyoung's in a simple white button up, a few top buttons undone. He's got on black slacks and some boots, his hair half-up, half-down. Some strands framing his beautifully-sculpted face.

"Mhm." You stand and grab your bag, Wooyoung already slinging your duffle bag over his shoulder. He suggested for you to stay the night at his this time, ready to provide and take care of you from the start to the end. 

"Actually, there's one more thing— there is a small service fee for those flowers because I had to drive to five different—" You shake your head, shutting him up with a kiss to the lips before slipping your hand into his. 

"All good?" Wooyoung smiles.

"You know me so well. But, I think there was also a—" You gently hit his chest. "Ah— ow. Just wanted a kiss for the road."

"Then, you could've just asked, Jung 2." You giggle, giving him another sweet, chaste kiss to the lips before leading the way down the steps. You take each step slowly with the god forbidden heeled boots you have on, Wooyoung poking fun and teasing you as he holds your hand every step of the way. "These boots are atrocious."

"Well, first of all, I'm gonna correct you and say I'm Jung 1. I will not hold that one against you either, but I can't keep giving you passes, babe." He swings your door open and lets you get settled before hovering over your seat. "And two, the boots look really good on you. Especially in that dress." He shuts your door and jogs over to the driver's seat, plopping in before turning on the car and getting settled himself.

"Where are we going?"

"Don't worry about it, princess." He scrolls through his playlist to find a good song to kick off his drive. "Did you bring a little trinket or something?"

"Mhm!" You pull out the small red box with the pearl ring inside.

"Damn, that's pretty. You sure you wanna trade it in?" You nod.

"It was either this or a vintage Mickey Mouse ring, and I wanna keep the Mickey Mouse one." You frown a bit and he smiles.

"Fair enough." He sets his phone down in the middle console, We Can Freak It by Kurupt playing in the background before shifting gears. "Good?" You silently nod, giving Wooyoung the green light to drive off to the destination of the night. Wooyoung drives flawlessly with one hand as he softly sings along, hand coming to your thigh. It's warm, soft; sends tingles down your spine when he gently caresses the inner part and gives it a squeeze. It's not long before you figure out he's heading towards the central part of downtown— an area you don't frequent much because it's mainly known for its nighttime scene. He doesn't hop off the freeway until after 20 minutes have passed, navigating through the city streets easily despite all the cars that are out and about tonight. "Hella busy." He says, quickly switching to the right lane to turn onto a street. "Might have to walk a bit, baby. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." You respond softly. When he hits another red light, he leans onto the middle console and puckers his lips for a kiss. You lean forward to meet him, pecking him quickly before the light turns green again. He smiles at you, squeezing your thigh just a little harder this time around. He turns down another street that has a few shops and bars, almost driving in circles around the same streets until he snags a spot towards the end of the block. He hops out to help you out of the car, telling you the place was a quick walk down the street. It's about another 7 min walk down, you and Wooyoung crossing the street to the opposite side until he slows in his pace and stops in front of.. a pawn shop? There isn't much to it besides a sign at the top, bright lights illuminating the 'CHECKS CASHED, PAYDAY LOANS' slogan. Brick walls, unclean windows. You're utterly confused, and it must be obvious because Wooyoung chuckles in slight amusement before he asks:

"You trust me, yeah?" You silently nod, your hand gripping his a little tighter. "You'll enjoy it, I promise." He says before pushing the door open and stepping into the tiny pawn shop.

"Hey! Welcome to the shop! I'm Don— woah, damn— I'm sorry, forgive me for being so forward but ya'll are the most attractive couple I've ever come across. My gawd." Wooyoung laughs and nods in acknowledgement. He leans onto the glass case full of random, unique vintage trinkets and items— the walls and shelves also littered with vintage collectibles and posters. "So. How can I help you beautiful people? Shopping for little trinkets? Trying to get into some trouble?"

"Trouble sounds accurate." You freeze. The hell is up Wooyoung's sleeve? "Spoken word night?"

"Ah. Trouble indeed. Can I quickly see your IDs?" You look at Wooyoung from behind, your eyes lighting up in surprise. A spoken word event in a pawn shop? You're so lost. The entire place looks so small, you can't even imagine where it'd all take place. Anyway, both you and Wooyoung flash your IDs to Don. He takes a good look before nodding in approval. "Cool. You got your trades for entry? Jokes will work, too. Kinda prefer them, actually. Or, you can sing me a song." You squeeze Wooyoung's arm.

"You can sing!" You whisper harshly.

"Not great, though."

"Woo." You frown at him and he feels like he's melted into a puddle.

"Yeah, Woo. What's it gonna be?"

"Baby." He shoots you a look. "Listen, I like to think I'm pretty funny and I think I've got a few notes in me, but I highkey don't wanna embarrass myself in front of my lady here." Don chuckles and nods.

"I'll give you that. She is very pretty." You shy behind Wooyoung as you give Don another tiny smile. "Snagged a queen, my dearest!"

"She is, yeah." Wooyoung turns over his shoulder briefly before returning his attention to Don. "Anyway, we've got these." Wooyoung slides over your red velvet box and his small collection of vintage matchboxes.

"Nice, these are quite the collectibles." He takes the items and places them in a free area at the corner of the glass container beneath him. "Access granted." Don shuts the door to the container close before turning around to grab something off the shelf. "But, before I give you the code. A little something for the pretty lady." Don slides you a roll of paper— like a mini poster, a print.

"Thank you, Don." You hold onto the poster.

"What about me?" Wooyoung whines a bit, and Don frowns.

"A flying kiss." Don shoots him a lousy flying kiss before pointing at the 'employees only' door. "The code is 000." Wooyoung cocks a brow up.

"That's it?"

"Who is going to memorize anything outside of that?"

"Touché." Wooyoung shrugs a bit before leading the way to the door. "Thanks!"

"Enjoy yourselves, my cutie pies." Don leans onto the glass container and watches as Wooyoung plugs the code in. The buttons flash green repeatedly until a click is heard. Wooyoung holds the door handle down and pushes, the other side of the door a completely different vibe from the front pawn shop. It's dark, it's elegant, it's sleek. There's a bar off to the left side, with low lights on the shelves that hold all liquor bottles for decor. There's a backdrop with hues of blues and purples right behind it. There's a few neon lights bordering the mirrors and frames around the place, the wallpaper to the right a little more 'old time-y' and vintage. There's a small stage at the other end of the room, high tables and chairs scattered across the floor space in the middle with tiny tea candles sitting as simple centerpieces.

"Oh my god." Your eyes roam around the room while Wooyoung quickly talks to a staff member and heads to a table closer to the stage.

"You like?" You look at him and smile from ear to ear.

"Like? I love it. This is amazing." You squeeze his hand just as he pulls out your chair, letting you get settled before he slips into the empty chair next to you. "How'd you find out about this?"

"I do my research."

"So, you've never been here before?" He shakes his head.

"Heard about it in passing a couple of times, but never looked into it or anything. Did my research, thought it'd be a good place to take a pretty girl out to." You rest your chin on the palm of your hand, giggling as Wooyoung leans over to press a chaste kiss on your neck, right below your earlobe. "So, they have shareable plates. Small dessert plates. Cocktails. Let me know what you want and we'll get it." He slides over the long, one page menu. The both of you skim over some good, shareable plates you two would enjoy, along with cocktails and a plate of dessert after. You point out about two items that catch your eye, also letting Woo know you'd like to try one of their fruity cocktails. He makes sure that's all you want before calling over the waitress and relaying the order to her. At this point, the live band makes their way on the stage, introducing themselves as the opening act before the actual spoken word event begins. They begin to sing a few upbeat songs, one being Let's Get Down by Tony! Toni! Toné! and DJ Quik. Wooyoung dances a bit in his seat, getting you to bounce along with him to the music. He scoots a little closer, arm hanging on the back of your high chair while he whispers sweet compliments in your ear. You giggle, Wooyoung kissing your temple before returning his attention to the live band in front.

"Hey, by the way, what's the poster Don gave you?" He nods at the rolled up poster on the edge of the table.

"Hm, good question." You take it and carefully peel the tape off, unraveling it on the table. Your eyes light up when you realize what it is— the timing of the coincidence catching you a bit off guard. "Woo! It's that vintage Spirited Away poster!" You look at him. "The one you posted."

"That's crazy, actually. I saw it and was thinking about how I could get it for you, but no one was selling it. I looked high and low."

"Looks like it ended up coming my way, anyway." Wooyoung nods.

"Where are you gonna hang it up?"

"Mm, maybe near the door?" 

"Well, wherever you put it, it'll look good." The live band starts slowing down, playing soothing background music to introduce the first poet of the night. The food comes as she's introducing herself, the waitress neatly spreading the plates across the table. 

"Cheers, cutie." Wooyoung raises his cocktail glass and taps it against yours before the both of you start sipping and picking at your plates. You and Wooyoung listen intently to each performance, with you thoroughly enjoying every poem, every delivery, every attitude of the poets tonight. You find yourself reacting along with Wooyoung, feeling all the emotions each poet puts out into the audience.

To the room.

To you, Wooyoung.

And he must've felt the energy shift a bit once the piano starts playing different music to convey the deep, genuine, raw emotion. Because he was once focused on the performer on the stage— now, he's looking at you. At first he starts to think about how crazy this all is; how he would have never known that the person he'd fall the deepest [and quickest] for would be you. It's crazy how you're the person to make him feel things he hasn't felt before, it's crazy how you're the person that's helping him understand the true, real meaning of the 'L' word.

It's crazy how you might just be his person.

You look at Wooyoung over the edge of your glass, and he maintains the eye contact as his hand rubs at your arm. But, he's really looking at you, a soft smile growing on the edge of his lips while he truly takes the time to admire everything about you;

Your eyes.

Your nose.

Your lips.

Your moles.

And Wooyoung feels like he should've done this years ago— should've just taken that leap back then when he realized how incredibly jaw-dropping beautiful you were, inside and out. He's always known it, but tonight, as he's looking at you, it almost feels like.. he's flying first class.

Like he's a planet orbiting the sun, the solar system orbiting the center of your galaxy.

"What is it?"

"You're beautiful." He leans in towards your ear. "Thank you for coming out with me tonight, Y/N." You shake your head and smile him.

"No, thank you." You rest your chin on your hands while you cock your head to the side and shyly look at him. He smiles back, meeting you in the center to kiss you on your lips once— twice, three times. 

"As long as you're happy." You don't respond besides a small smile, your turn to quickly eye Wooyoung's features. You feel the butterflies soaring high in your tummy, the goosebumps painting the surface of your skin. The umpteenth lip bites you gotta do to prevent yourself from smiling way too big;

Cause yeah, you are. Wooyoung makes you the happiest girl.

The spoken word event lasts for almost 2 hours, followed by another performance from the live band with some dancing. At first, you feel a little too shy even with the alcohol kicking in. But, eventually, you let Wooyoung guide you to the dance floor, remembering how well he took care of you during the night of the party. He holds your hand, keeps you close— dancing along to the band in a way that isn't too much or too little. Just enough to have fun with you in his arms and keep you safe.

He loves seeing you come out of your shell, and he likes being the reason behind it.

When it all wraps up, you're beyond satisfied and happy— both with the food, drinks, the performances and the band tonight. You hang onto your poster tightly, giving Don a quick hug and thanking him for just knowing the right gift to give you. He waves the both of you off, telling you that he hopes you and Woo will visit again soon. Since the weather isn't too cold for the night, you and Wooyoung decide to walk towards the opposite end of the block to get to the water, the bridge. When you finally reach the view, you gasp and point at the pretty lights illuminating the bridge.

"Woo, look. The lights are so pretty, it's like a little show on the bridge." He chuckles.

"Yeah, it is pretty." He whips out his phone to take a good photo of the view ahead of him. You slowly walk along the rail to get a better look at the water, hand trailing against the cold, metal surface as you watch the huge cargo boats slowly drift away. "Baby."

"Hm?" You turn over your shoulder.

"You're not cold, are you?" You shake your head.

"No." The lighting from the street light is hitting you beautifully from where you stand, and Wooyoung thinks it would be perfect to capture your picture here. "Wait." He says just as you start to walk away. "Stay put, babygirl. Let me take your picture." You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, still getting used to Wooyoung's photos of you. But, he's able to snap a few really good candid photos. You can't explain how he does it, but he seems to always capture the best of you. "Alright." Wooyoung says, meeting you from behind. "Look." Wooyoung shows you the pictures.

"They're amazing."

"That's a new wallpaper right there." He smirks, immediately changing his wallpaper. "Miss Optimus Fine, I'm telling you." You laugh, playfully nudging Wooyoung away. "You probably think I'm joking, but I need you to know how serious this is."

"You're too much."

"Being honest." He shrugs, slipping his hand into yours. "Did you really have fun tonight?"

"I did. I really, really did." You look up at him. "Thank you for tonight."

"My pleasure." 

"Wooyoung." You look up at the sky before you look back out to the water.

"Yes?"

"What're you thinking about right now?" He lets out a tiny chuckle.

"Uh, well. I'm thinking about a movie or show we could watch when we get in bed. I'm thinking about breakfast for tomorrow. I'm thinking about some of the lines from the poems we heard today. I'm thinking about which drawer I accidentally slipped my favorite pair of underwear into cause I haven't seen them in a hot minute." You laugh. "What about you?"

"Well. I'm thinking about what people are doing on the other side of the bridge." He nods, listening intently. "I'm thinking about those churro sticks and that chocolate sauce we just ate. I'm thinking about how nice your bed is gonna feel later, and.. how I wanna change in my crocs when we get to the car." He snorts.

"Ah, was waiting for that one." There's a small silence that falls between you two, but it isn't uncomfortable despite Wooyoung growing nervous by the minute. He feels like he just needs to ask because if he doesn't, he'll blow. He needs to know if you can be his and vice versa; he's dying to know if you're on the same page about a relationship like he is. "You know what else I've been thinking about?"

"Hm?" You hum.

"You." Wooyoung looks at you.

"What about me?"

"Everything's about you." He smiles. "I could go on for days if you say it like that."

"Wooyoung." You chuckle. "Is there something bothering you?" You tick your head to the side to look at him before returning your attention to your boots, kicking at the dirt beneath them.

"Not necessarily." He lets out a breath. "Well. Iono. Bear with me here, I'm awful at voicing my feelings, as we know." You giggle. "Been thinking. We've been hanging out a lot. Staying at each other's places. Doing things couples do, but I don't know if I'm misreading anything. What I do know is that I just.. want you to be mine." He looks at you shyly. "I'm not sure how you feel and all—"

"You're not misreading anything, and you don't have to question how I feel." You pause in your steps. "You already have me, Woo."

"Do I?" It's his turn to pause in his steps and look at you directly. "Cause I really, really want you to be my girlfriend, if that's alright with you. You can say no, and we'll never talk about this again, but jesus fucking christ that would hurt—"

"Hey." You shake your head. "None of that, okay? It's more than alright, Jung 1. I'd love to be your girlfriend." He laughs before pulling you flush to his body, hands resting on your hips.

"Hm, see. Doesn't it feel better to call me Jung 1?" He teases. 

"It feels better to call you my boyfriend, though." Wooyoung's hands come up to cup your cheeks, bringing you in for a sweet, passionate kiss on the lips. One that doesn't break for a few minutes, one that gives you a hard time pulling away from Wooyoung. Your hands are gripping the sides of his shirt, smiling into each kiss when he doesn't part right away either. 

"God, I—" Kiss. "Like you—" Another kiss. "So much."

"Woo?" You finally break.

"Hm?" He caresses the surface of your cheek.

"Take me home?"

"Gladly." He dips in for one last kiss before lacing his hand with yours and leading the way back to the car. The both of you finally talk about some memorable lines from the night, doing a deep dive and dissecting what each poet was trying to convey, what the meaning was behind every word and every delivery. And you love listening to Wooyoung ramble on about his thoughts, asking for your opinion and what you think. Everything feels so.. balanced, and it's a little terrifying just as it is comforting. But you do trust him; you feel like you trust Wooyoung more than anyone you've ever dated.

It's probably the years tacked on of knowing him, getting close to him. Seeing his good and bad. Growing up with Wooyoung and watching him change throughout the seasons; watching him become who he is today. Imperfectly perfect.

When you get to the car, Wooyoung immediately pops the trunk and grabs your crocs wrapped neatly in a plastic bag inside your duffle. He sets them on the floor, crouching to help you get out of your boots while you sit on the edge of the trunk. You give him a tiny, toothless smile as he tosses your boots back inside the trunk, shutting it close before helping you get settled into the car. As usual, Wooyoung kicks up the heat before selecting the perfect song to start the journey home. The drive home feels much quicker this time around, less and less cars being out on the street and highway the more you travel away from the central downtown area. Along the way, Wooyoung places kisses to the surface of your hand while he continues driving— smiling to himself while you quietly sit and observe the view.

He just observes you from time to time, in between his focus on the road.

You balance him out, like Yin and Yang.

The Sun and Moon.

Light and Dark.

The Earth and Heavens.

Shit is surreal.

Before Wooyoung can do a deeper dive into his feelings for you, he pulls into his assigned spot and shuts off the car. He lets out a small huff he gets out and grabs your things, exhaustion slowly taking over his body. You let him lead the way up to his apartment, immediately kicking off your shoes when you get inside. He kicks up the heat just a tad, lighting up a candle on his kitchen counter. 

"I'm gonna get ready for bed, if that's okay with you?" He looks at you and nods.

"Of course. Get comfy." He says before cleaning up in his kitchen, making sure everything remains spotless and tidy while you're around. 

"Wooyoung?" You pop out of his room with his shirt in hand. "Can I?" He nods.

"You don't have to ask, baby." He chuckles. "Go for it. One less shirt won't do much to the already missing shirts and hoodies from my closet. Wonder where those went." He teases, making you giggle as you run off to the bathroom. You take a quick shower to freshen up, following up with your skincare routine and other necessities before slipping into Wooyoung's shirt. Just as you make your way back to his room, you overhear him on the phone as he sorts through his drawers.

"What do you mean, I did!" You look at him as his pitch gets a little higher. He lets out a heavy sigh before he holds out his phone. "Mom is hounding my ass, can you please let her know you had a good time tonight? She's afraid you're gonna run off." He gives you those doe-eyes and you can't help but giggle as you take his phone.

—FLASHBACK

"Mother! Father!" Jiwoo yells as she walks into the house and follows the scent of fresh food being cooked in the kitchen. "Ah, there you are. Where's Dad?"

"Hi Jiwoo. He's in the back watering his plants." She looks at Jiwoo. "We haven't gone grocery shopping yet, so please spare me—"

"I'm sorry, did I warp into Wooyoung? He's the one who does his grocery shopping in the fridge and pantry, not me."

"So, what're you doing here?"

"I can't just visit my lovely parents on a random Wednesday afternoon?"

"Suspicious, but okay. Where's Hongjoong?"

"Gym." She sighs. "Okay, I lied. I did come here for a reason, actually."

"Of course, I figured. What is it?"

"You might wanna sit."

"Jiwoo, I have to make dinner."

"Fine, don't say I didn't warn you." She pauses dramatically. "Wooyoung's dating someone." Her mom gives her a look before returning her attention to the cutting board. 

"What's new?"

"No. It's like, a real relationship." Jiwoo doesn't even know what she means by this but it's the easiest way for her parents to understand.

"With who?"

"Y/N—" The skinned, uncooked potato slips out of her mom's hand and tumbles into the sink.

"What?!" She puts her knife down and places her hand on her hip. "Jung Jiwoo, you don't come into this house and start making jokes like that! What is wrong with you!"

"Who said it was a joke?! I just said it was real. Besides, the clown in this family is Wooyoung— certainly not I."

"Wooyoung.. is dating Y/N?!" 

"I know, woof. How devastating to actually have to share her now." Her mom takes a minute to sit on it before she screams happily in the kitchen, scaring the heebiejeebies out of their father.

"What on earth is going on?" He says, barreling into the kitchen from the back door. "Why are you screaming like that?"

"Wooyoung! He's finally dating a good girl!" She rejoices. "We did it! You manifested it! He's got a good girl! Y/N! Sweet Y/N!" She continues to cry. "There's hope! He's finally settling down and he's got a good girl!" She repeats.

"Y/N?! Yeah right."

"Dad." Jiwoo snorts. "It's serious. Wooyoung has serious lovey-dovey eyes for her. He looks like he's gonna vomit the 'L' word any day now. It's kinda wild. Your son is a changed man."

"The L word! A changed man!" Her mom yells.

"Honey, can you— what? Since when?" Her dad is moreso surprised and eager to know details, crossing his arms as he leans against the counter to hear more. "The L word?"

"Did he take her out on a date and everything? Where did they go?" Mom adds. 

"As far as I know, he's going to. He waited it out because of the whole thing with Papa. He's been helping take care of him, too."

"Jiwoo, you better make sure your brother doesn't—"

"Mom, relax." Jiwoo elongates her response. "It's gonna be fine! He told me his ideas and they're all great. You know Wooyoung is good at planning stuff. He's creative. He'll take her out on a good date and he'll take care of her." She fake shivers. "Please don't make me say more. It'll be fine! Trust!" It's almost like a signal goes off, or a radar, because Wooyoung comes strolling into the house right at this moment; stumbling into the kitchen to see his family huddled around together.

"Aw, you guys got together for me?" His shit-eating smirk dies when he sees the way his family looks. "What?" Wooyoung walks further into the kitchen, furrowing his brows at the way his mom looks like she's about to break down, while his dad is sporting a big grin with his arms crossed. "Why do you guys look like that? Feel like I just walked into Honey, I Shrunk the Kids." He sets his keys down on the kitchen table as Jiwoo giggles.

"The simp has arrived."

"What are you— oh my fucking god, Jiwoo. You told them, didn't you? You couldn't wait like 5 minutes for me to come and do it myself?!"

"You're too slow! Besides, she's my bestfriend and I can also share the news on her behalf, too. Remember, you're sharing with me." He mocks her before rolling his eyes.

"Shut up. I would've just called up the news station if I wanted it broadcasted by people other than myself." He scoffs. "No wonder mom looks like she's aboutta cry. Good going."

"It was gonna come out anyway!"

"Jung Wooyoung, you better take that girl out on a good date and take care of her. Don't lose that girl!"

—END

"Y/N." 

"Hi." You respond sweetly like you always do.

"Did Wooyoung take care of you tonight? Did you have fun?" 

"Yeah, I did. He did really well, actually." You look at him.

"Oh, thank God." You can faintly hear his dad in the background telling her to hang up the phone and leave you two alone, which she responds with a quick 'I'm going, I just wanna make sure they're okay' before returning her attention to you. "That's all I needed to know. You two take care and have a good evening, okay? Get some rest! And tell Wooyoung not to call me tomorrow. I know he will and I won't be picking up— anyway, my husband is getting on me. I'm so happy you had fun tonight! I'll leave you now, sweetheart."

"Okay, I'll let him know." You laugh a bit as you say your goodbyes and hang up the phone. "She said you can't call her tomorrow."

"To hell I can't." He clicks his teeth as you playfully hit his chest.

"What'd you ask for?"

"Some groceries."

"Wooyoung."

"What? I know she has extras." He smirks. "And I'm the favorite so I know she can't say no to me." He shuts his drawer. "I'll be back, baby. My turn to freshen up." He leans forward to peck you on the lips before heading over to the bathroom.

You let out a content sigh as you slip into Wooyoung's covers, the sheets against your skin feeling like heaven. You scroll through Instagram to see the stories Wooyoung has tagged you in— reliving the night through his candid pictures and videos. 

You smile to yourself because you truly can't remember the last time you seemed so genuinely happy. Maybe the summer party? But, it all goes back to Wooyoung.

You press the heart for all his stories, even reacting to one where he actually posted a picture of you and wrote out:

must have stumbled into a museum cause i found this work of art 😚

In which, you let out a small laugh to yourself before replying with a 'stop it' to his story. 

After watching a few reels in a row, Wooyoung steps back into the room. The hallway behind him is dark, the entire unit outside no longer lit. You feel the butterflies in your tummy knowing he'll slip into bed with you to cuddle soon.

"Still awake?"

"Yeah, but mm'pooped." Wooyoung laughs, shutting his bedroom door close. He's in an old, graphic tee and loose pants, fresh out of the shower himself. His hair is still slightly damp, some ends sticking to his neck as he shuts off the lights and crawls onto the bed. You've already settled into his covers, scrolling through your phone and letting Jiwoo know you and Wooyoung have made it home safely.

jiwoo: did you have fun? did my brother do well?!

jiwoo: mom was about to panic-cry earlier, she doesn't want wooyoung to lose you

you: he did, i had a lot of fun! ☺️ she doesn't have to worry. lol i'll tell you more tomorrow. we got home safely and are hanging out in the room now.

jiwoo: okay! 

jiwoo: 🤢

jiwoo: feel free to hold off on further details

jiwoo: but pls tell my brother he's still second best

jiwoo: ok mwah i love u talk to u later, bye!

You giggle just as Wooyoung slips in next to you, setting his phone on the charger sitting on the nightstand. You do the same, setting your phone next to his before sliding back down into the sheets.

"What happened?"

"Was just texting your sister."

"Oh ew, nevermind. Forget I asked." You turn to face him completely with a smile on your face.

"She said you were still second best." Wooyoung shakes his head and shrugs before turning to face you.

"Kinda funny she's accusing me of being second best when she was never first in the first place."

"Okay, Jung 2."

"She's like— what'd you just call me?" He gives you a look. You cover your mouth to prevent yourself from laughing in his face. But, it's too late— Wooyoung starts attacking you with tickles, pulling you close to him as his hands come to your sides. You squeal and beg for him to stop, trying your hardest to pry him off without hurting him. "Wanna try that again, baby?"

"I'm sorry, I'm kidding!" You squeal louder when he tickles you a little harder. "I'm sorry! I'm kidding! You're my boyfriend, it shouldn't matter—" He stops with a little groan, hand still up your [his] shirt. 

"Fuck. You're so lucky you're cute." He sighs heavily. "I'm your, what?"

"Boyfriend." He smiles proudly.

"Damn, that's right." You giggle. "I love when you say it."

"Please don't attack me again."

"As long as you keep saying cute shit and not relaying any info from the devil incarnate herself, we're good." You laugh, continuing to look up at Wooyoung as he hovers over you from the side. "What?" He asks when you don't respond, completely enamored by him.

"Nothing." You subconsciously play with his hair and twirl the ends.

"Doesn't seem like nothing." You shake your head before gaining the courage to lean up and kiss him. He smiles into it, not letting you part for long before he dips forward again— this time, deepening the kiss, intensifying it in ways you've never felt before. Each kiss feels heated and desperate, and all you want is to be consumed entirely by Wooyoung. His tongue licks into your mouth, teasingly swiping across your bottom lip before he sucks on it and pulls back with a pop. You chase after him greedily, your tongue now fighting with his for dominance. He squeezes at your side, hand slowly traveling down to find the hem of your lace panties. His fingers play with the band before Wooyoung roams down and gently rubs at your clothed pussy. "Oh." He smirks a bit. "Did you wear this for me, princess?" He asks lowly, gently nipping at your jaw. You let out a soft whine, his hand rubbing a little harder against you.

"Mhm."

"So hot." He licks at the surface of your neck before sucking gently, fingers now slowly removing the material down your legs. "Gonna need to take it off though, if that's okay with you."

"Yes, please."

"Good girl." He chuckles, successfully slipping your panties off and tossing them onto the floor. He gives your thigh another squeeze before slowly swiping his fingers up and down your folds. "Everything about you is perfect."

"Wooyoung." You mewl, shifting in your position on the bed. He bites onto his bottom lip, thumb applying more pressure at your nub. You let out soft, breathy moans, back slightly arching off of the mattress. He slides in two digits, pumping them in and out of you at a slow pace to test the waters. He loves the way you automatically cock your legs open for him, giving him all the access he needs to feel you.

"So wet for me already, babygirl." He watches as your face contorts in pleasure. He begins to finger fuck you faster; relishing in the squelching noises, fingers dripping with your wetness. "Can I take care of you, hm? Do you want that?" He asks in a teasing manner, slowly moving his body downwards after removing his digits from inside of you.

You feel so empty.

"I do. Please." You beg. He leaves kisses down your stomach, your thighs. He presses a light kiss to your pussy before licking a stripe up and in between your folds. A loud whine leaves your lips just as he works his tongue on you, flicking at your heat before sucking onto it. 

"Gonna cum for me, pretty? Wanna see you cum on my mouth." He demands. He messily eats away, devouring every last drop of you as he spreads you open— lapping at your entrance, your clit. You don't even realize you've been slowly grinding your hips against his mouth, craving to relieve this tension, this ache, that you feel so badly within your core. Wooyoung goes between fingering you and tonguing your clit down until you feel the coil threatening to snap. 

"W-Wooyoung— oh god, yes—" You cry, suddenly tipping over the edge, legs trembling and feeling like jello. He keeps his head in between your thighs, continuing to suck away at your sensitive clit even when you try to close him out. You eventually come back down from cloud nine and steady yourself, Wooyoung's head slowly lifting from his current position.

"You okay?" He smiles. "Tasted so good. Can't get enough of you." He kisses your abdomen.

"More than okay." He chuckles, watching your chest rise and fall as you regulate your breathing. "Woo." You call his name in a daze post-orgasm.

"Mm?" He hums as he continues to press a trail of small kisses from your inner thighs, back up to your chest.

Neck.

Jaw. 

Corner of your lips.

"Can I try being on top?" He almost freezes because he sure as hell wasn't ready to hear that question. But, he's not complaining. Hell, he's hard as a fucking rock just hearing it replay in his head; in that delicate, soft tone of yours.

"Yeah, god—yeah. Please."

"I'm not that great, though. I didn't really get to experience different positions in my last relationship." 

"Don't say that, love. It's fine, and it doesn't matter."

"You're making me shy." You shyly giggle, climbing onto his lap once he settles. You sit back for a bit, stroking him through his boxers until they're joining your panties, his clothes, on the floor. You watch as his eyes roll back and shut close, small moans leaving his lips as you continue to pump him up and down. The more you keep up with a steady pace, the more Wooyoung feels like he'll explode when he's not entirely ready to be done with you just yet.

"Baby. Wait, wait—" He stops you. "Need you now. Don't wanna cum until I'm inside of you." You feel yourself clenching over nothing, but you still fear you won't be good; that you won't be good enough for him.

"I'm just afraid I won't be good for you."

"You'll always be more than enough." He reassures you with a kiss to the lips. "I'll help guide you if needed, okay?" He watches as you position yourself on him, lining him up at your entrance. He lets out a choked moan when he feels you slowly sink down on him, head cocking back in pleasure against the headboard. "Mm, fuuuck— god, you're so tight."

"Oh my god, Woo." You whimper, feeling completely full with Wooyoung's hard cock sat inside you.

"Take your time." He lets out breathily, hands gripping your hips. "You can move when you feel comfortable." You nod, hands resting on his shoulders. You begin to rock your hips back and forth;

Back and forth.

Tug and pull.

In and out.

"How does it feel?" 

"So fucking good, princess— oh—fuck— just like that." He moans brokenly, hissing in between when you start to work your hips more comfortably against him. "Can I?" He tugs on the end of your shirt, wasting no time to tear it off your body once you nod and give him the green light. "Holy shit." He says, marveling at the sight of your plump breasts in front of him. "Perfect for me." He mutters right before taking a nipple into your mouth; tongue working in circles before sucking on your perked bud. His thumb plays and pinches the other until he's ready to give it more attention, following the same movements. You let out a loud cry, hips moving faster in response to the way Wooyoung's lapping against you. "You like that, babygirl?" He watches you through hooded lids as you tilt your head back, the sounds of your wet pussy against him filling the room.

"Y-yes." You can barely respond. Wooyoung holds you close, hands tangled in his hair as his hands cascade up your sides, your back. You're pressed against him, his pelvis wet with your slickness; clit rubbing against him deliciously. 

"Doing so good for me, baby. You know how to ride me so well." He praises against your skin, leaving feathery kisses on your body. "You feel so good wrapped around me." He continues, lips now coming up to graze yours as you maintain eye contact— forehead pressed against Wooyoung's. Your hip movements become sloppier, more erratic; the both of you moaning into each other's mouths.

"Wooyoung. Think I'm gonna—" You whine. "I'm gonna cum again—" You continue to whine and whimper in between.

"Please cum. So I can— jesus christ." He pants, biting onto his bottom lip when he finds himself hanging on his last thread. After another couple of rolls against him, you feel yourself unraveling once again. You grip the ends of his hair tightly as you come undone on his cock, a huge wave of euphoria crashing through your body. "Shit, yeah. That's it, love. Cum all over me." Wooyoung eggs you on as you continue to deal with the aftershocks of your orgasm, body still twitching in his grip. He holds your hips tightly, taking his turn to fuck up into you harshly despite your sensitivity. "Agh— baby—" He chokes out. "Baby." He breathes out against your neck. "Cumming—hmfuck—" He groans. 

"Give it to me, Woo. Please." You feel his release; white ribbons shooting into you, cock twitching against your walls. His hands dig deep into your hips until he releases every last bit inside of you, panting and breathing heavily to bring himself back down from his high.

"God." He says, lazily kissing your chest. Collarbone. Neck. "Fucking amazing."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Too good. I'm beat. Rode the hell out of me." You laugh and playfully bite his shoulder. You press another kiss to his lips, holding it for just a second longer before you remove yourself from on top and plop next to him. He grabs a few napkins from the nightstand, wiping you down before working on himself. You snuggle back under the sheets, having no energy to worry about your shirt or panties. Wooyoung welcomes you right into his arms, his body heat keeping you warm as he presses himself against you.

You fit so perfectly.

Your head is pressed against his chest, his heartbeat humming against your ear— soothing you in the now stillness of his room. The exhaustion hits you fast, eyes feeling heavy the more you relax in his hold. Wooyoung lies awake, even though he truly is tired after tonight. But, he wouldn't have it any other way. He smiles to himself thinking about how perfectly this entire day played out;

How lucky he is to have you.

And even though he's terrified at what your response would be if he were to tell you how deeply he feels, he knows [either way] there's no going back because he's locked into this. He knows this is where he wants to be, and he knows this is where he'll stay.

Right here with you.

"Y/N?" He calls for your name softly. You don't respond at first because it's the moment you do fall asleep for a quick minute, soft snores leaving you as you rest against him. He looks down and chuckles, pulling you closer to him as if there was any other possible way to get you closer. "Sweet dreams, baby." He whispers against your temple before coming down to your ear. "I love you." Wooyoung is completely okay letting it out even though he isn't expecting a response. He's said it out loud, he's put it out into the universe. He feels relief, and it makes it even realer for Wooyoung when he realizes he doesn't wanna stop saying it. Because he does, he loves you. He probably has for a long time. 

His special girl.

Biggest thing in his itty bitty world.

You do hear it, though. You do. And with how much you adore Wooyoung, you obviously can't help yourself when you respond sleepily with a:

"I love you too, Woo."

—TAGLIST: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @heyitsmetonid @ldysmfrst @intaksfav @wooyoungsbrat @hyukssunflower @yunhoswrldddd @gotthicbish @thespiffynerd @jaytheatiny @yoonrixx @aurorajoye @i-love-ateez @starrywoo @bitejoongie @thedistractedwriter @dalsuwaha @huachengsbestie01 @e3ellie @yusalterego

[explorevenus]

dessert before dinner ♡ gale dekarios x f!reader

nsfw (18+) - minors DNI or i will call the cops and also ur mom

word count - 4.3k

description - domestic life with you has turned gale into a big softie, in more ways than one-- he's already got the dad bod, why wait for the baby to match?

aka dad bod malewife gale wants to knock u up :3

tags/warnings - dad bod gale w mild self esteem issues at the beginning but he gets over it, technically bg3 spoilers ig (takes place post-game), food mentions, praise, p in v, creampie, breeding kink but fluffy cus gale is sappy, inappropriate use of the Weave, inappropriate use of mage hand

a/n - this piece was commissioned by my LOVELY LOVELY SWEET BABY ANGEL @d10nyx WHO DESERVES EVERYTHING IN THE WORLD AND MORE AND IS SUCH A FUCKIN SAINT FOR BEING SO PATIENT FOR THIS ;n; pls go check out her work i adore her so bad

also just as a note b4 i get One Billion Asks about it for posting this-- i am not abandoning 'something permanent' nor am i abandoning writing for resident evil just bc i am posting one singular bg3 fic !!!!!!!!!! might seem obvious but i just wanted to get ahead of it bc i'm paranoid and have seen it happen to other ppl ;~;

my masterlist ♡

fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ;w;

-venus ♡

Life post-Netherbrain softened Gale Dekarios in many ways. 

Some of the most obvious ways included the relief of tension that came with no longer bearing the weight of the world on his back, ridding himself of the curse that plagued so many of his living years, and finally being able to settle down back home in Waterdeep. 

But if you asked Gale, the one thing that softened him the most was you. You, you, you. Ever since the moment you tugged him out of that collapsing portal, everything Gale did was for you, and by the looks of it, that wouldn’t be changing anytime soon. 

Stability was something Gale hadn’t had in a long time, and while he wouldn’t exactly call running around Faerun fighting deities and monsters and people alike ‘stability,’ he could at the very least find that stability in you. Every battle, every brutal journey through the swamp or the Astral Plane or the wreckage of Baldur’s Gate, you were right there with him. 

And now you were home. 

Home had long since become anywhere with you, of course, but now you were really home, back in Waterdeep with Gale and his family and his beloved Tara, and what’s more, you had his last name. You were truly his and he was truly yours, in every possible sense. With his days spent teaching the art of illusion magic to the next generation of hopeful mages and his evenings spent returning home to his precious wife, Gale wasn’t sure it would be scientifically possible for him to be any happier, let alone any more fortunate. 

Gale was in the kitchen preparing dinner when you returned home, having spent the afternoon handling a few errands and wandering about the city. It always came as a delight for him to see you exploring his hometown in the same ways he did growing up, discovering all the neat little oddities and secrets that lay beneath the unassuming surface. 

He turned over his shoulder to face you at the sound of the door creaking open and then clicking shut, a smitten grin tugging at his face already. The sight of his beloved would never cease to fluster him, after all. 

“There she is,” Your handsome wizard greeted warmly, “The lovely and– might I say, stunningly beautiful– Princess of Waterdeep.” 

Just like that, you were blushing too, approaching to wrap your arms around him at the waist from behind, pressing a sweet kiss to his shoulder, affectionately roaming every inch of him you could get your hands on with a gentle touch. 

Yes, life post-Netherbrain softened Gale Dekarios in many ways, and his figure was no exception.

It was no secret Gale had an appreciation for the little indulgences in life, like rich wine and too many sweets, alarm clocks shut off when they really shouldn’t be, cozy bedding and plush furniture and hearty ‘marry me’ dinners. But, luxuries like that were rather few and far between when the two of you were on the road, and long days of traveling by foot and fighting to survive made for great exercise at the time. 

Suffice it to say, having a stable home and living without being under the constant threat of death meant you weren’t quite as active as you used to be. With time, his cheeks filled out a little more, and his clothes became a bit snug as lean muscle gave way to plush flesh. His skin glowed. He looked relaxed and nourished, he looked healthy, and you couldn���t get enough of him if you tried. 

Your wandering hands did make him a little timid in the moment, however– he hadn’t put on a concerning amount of extra padding by any means, but still, this new look was taking some getting used to. 

“Quite alright, my love?” Gale asked with a soft laugh as your hands came to rest at his hips, your kisses trailing up the side of his neck. His skin was glowing warm beneath your attention. 

“Mhm,” You hummed innocently, nodding, your hands sliding forward to feel along the delicate roundness of his belly through his shirt. “I just missed you today, dearest, and you look so delightful. I have half a mind to talk you into dessert before dinner, hm?” 

Your beloved husband was well and truly burning up now, stuttering over whatever he had going on the stove and very much considering abandoning it in favor of bending you over the countertop, but something made him hesitate. 

With a bashful laugh, as though he were trying to play it off, Gale replied, “Right, well, I suppose I could use the exercise.” 

Your brows furrowed with confusion and you glanced up at him over his shoulder, trying to read his expression. He said that so casually, like he didn’t think anything of it, and it broke your heart a little bit. 

“For all it may be worth, I think you look divine,” You said, face straight and meaning every word of it. Even if Gale was trying to laugh it off, it wasn’t a joke to you. Quietly, you added, “I would argue a bit of fluff suits you well, my darling.” 

Thankfully Gale tended to be rather easily convinced by you. 

His posture relaxed a little bit, and now the laugh that puffed out from between his lips was noticeably more genuine. “Perhaps it’s about time we put ‘a bit of fluff’ on you. I fear my mother will lose her head soon if I don’t.” 

You tilted your head and narrowed your eyes with playful curiosity. “Your mother? And what concern is that of hers, hm?”

“Only the same concern of every mother, dearest,” He grinned as though it were obvious, “Grandbabies.” 

This response of his gave you pause. Gale’s mother hadn’t exactly been quiet about her desire for grandchildren since the day you met her, but she’d never gone too far, never pestered you to the point of being uncomfortable, and never made it out to be particularly urgent– you wondered if perhaps she’d been less patient on the topic with Gale. 

Your pause had a lot less to do with the pressure to please his mother and a lot more to do with the undeniable fact that the thought of Gale fucking a baby into you made your knees go weak. You weren’t even sure you were breathing for a moment, until it occurred to you that you’d been quiet for too long and any further hesitation to respond could be taken the wrong way. 

Clearing your throat softly, you continued the playful banter, “I think my earlier suggestion stands to remedy that concern as well, no? Dessert before dinner?” 

What you didn’t know was that Gale had been thinking about this a lot more often than he was letting on. Sure, the pestering of his baby-crazy relatives was one factor, but more than anything, the safety and security he’d felt in the year since you’d married had him throwing himself into the romantics of domesticity with abandon. When you first met, he never imagined such a future would be possible for him. The chaos and uncertainty that came along with defeating the Absolute brought death far closer than most people would see the other side of, and yet you made it. 

Against all odds, hand-in-hand, you still made it. And every night since your wedding, as you tucked into bed alongside one another, he dreamt of you glowing with the radiance of motherhood. He didn’t want to pressure you– after everything that had happened, it felt like a lot to ask of you to also bear his child, like that might be pushing his luck… though you had all but just confirmed your interest with that last remark, and that didn’t make it past him. 

Gale turned off the stove so as not to burn the masterpiece he’d been cooking before turning around to face you, his broad hands coming up to cradle your face. The look he gave you was intensely romantic and almost vulnerable, his eyes gazing deep down into your own as he asked, “My darling, do you know how long I’ve yearned to make you a mother?” 

Your heart was hammering now, warmth creeping up your cheeks as you found yourself unable to break eye contact, not that you wanted to anyway. Bashfully, your hands came to rest upon his soft shoulders, feeling his own heart pulsing away in his chest, his cheeks going rosy with the same warmth. There was always a certain synchronicity between you and Gale. 

Voice lowering to a near whisper, the emotion behind your words just as strong, you replied, “How long?” 

The look he gave you was tender and reverent. Your husband clicked his tongue and smiled at the floor before cupping your jaw in his two strong hands, meeting your eyes once again. Tone rich with sincerity, he began, “Back in the Grove, seeing you with all the little Tieflings… a lot of people would have disregarded them as scoundrels, but not you, my darling. 

“You embraced their mischief– not only embraced it, but nurtured it. Refined it. You treated them with patience and respect, and you didn’t look down upon them, you kneeled to their level. At every turn, you protected them, but you never patronized them. You learned just as much from them as they learned from you.” 

He paused for a moment, thumbs stroking over your flushed cheeks, his own skin burning just as hot. Pressing a soft kiss to the tip of your nose, Gale continued, “I’m sure you can imagine how that sent off the train of thought. For the longest time, I bit it back. It felt like a pipe dream, and I didn’t want to kid myself– I’ve done enough of that for two lifetimes. But then the Netherbrain fell, the Absolute released her iron grip on the commonwealth of Faerun, and what’s more, you accepted my hand in marriage. 

“The first morning I woke up next to you in the safety of our marital bed, it didn’t feel like such a distant reality anymore. There you were right before me, and in my mind’s eye, you were bathed in the golden glow of dawn and fertility, your nightgown clinging to your divine, ripening figure. Ever since that moment, the image of you with child has dominated my every waking thought. I crave it like the sweetest wine, my heart, to see you become plump and radiant with motherhood.” 

Leave it to Gale to so easily render you weak in the knees with his poetics. The way he described it, you could see it too. You could see the silk of your nightgown becoming snug around your middle as your belly would come to rise like pastry, you could see the vein in Gale’s brow tense while he would struggle to put a crib together. You could see your grocery lists growing to include nappies and baby food, you could see a space at the dining table occupied by a high chair. 

He was right, it didn’t feel distant at all. It felt so close you could taste it, the veil between this reality and that one now paper thin, like a cobweb you could just blow away. 

Before you could think up a response, he was speaking again, his tone delicate and low, “Just imagine it, dearest. A child born of you and I would have the purest connection to the Weave imaginable, and you would make a gorgeous mother… You know I adore you always, but I must confess, I’m not sure I would be able to leave you be, seeing you like that. It might just require the strength of a thousand men to pry me away.” 

You puffed out a laugh, your face and the tips of your ears burning with bashfulness. Leaning forward to hide your face away in his soft chest, you teased, “So it wasn’t your mother who put you up to this?” 

“Ah, I’m afraid not, my darling,” He cracked a grin, planting a smooch to the crown of your head. “At least not entirely. This was a hole I dug the both of us into largely on my own, I’ll admit.” 

His hands slid down to rest upon your hips, and for a moment, you just held each other like that. It felt cozy, it felt comfortable, like time itself had paused around you. In all your days, no one but Gale could make you feel like that so consistently. You almost wondered if there might be some subtle illusion magic at play in moments like these, but you knew all too well that Gale’s charm had very little to do with the Weave– he was just like that, and you were all the more fortunate for it. 

Gale’s hold on your hips tightened in an affectionate squeeze before his arms were snaking around you, one at your lower back and one where your thighs met your bottom. He lifted you from your feet and spun you around to face the other way, propping you up on the countertop in one smooth movement, the tightening front of his pants nestled right up against the crotch of your underwear through your dress. 

Your breath hitched in your throat at the feeling, and he didn’t make it any easier for you to remember how to breathe when his next move was to stoop his head down and smother your throat with languid kisses. 

“Gale,” You gasped, hips rutting forward to knock into his own, your head spinning as the distinct outline of his arousal grinded right up against your clit. “Gods above, you’re going to be the death of me…” 

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest at your accusation, his teeth nipping playfully at your pulse point before he spoke against your skin, “Always a flair for dramatics with you, my beloved bride… though if that should turn out to be true, then you’d die how you lived; ravished, revered and adored by your most loyal wizard.” 

Just as soon as he’d put you there, Gale was plucking you up from the countertop again, and while it was your immediate assumption that he was going to carry you off to the bedroom, it would seem he didn't even have the patience for that. Your back hit the dining table with a gentle thud, though the ever mindful wizard braced the back of your head gracefully with an oven mitt just in time. 

You dissolved into a fit of squirms, giggles, and quiet yelps as his lips and teeth met your neck in a display of needy attention, his fingertips crackling with magic as they found their way up beneath the skirt of your dress. Grip printing into your hips, he dragged you back until your clothed cunt was flush with his bulge again, and the electric shock of pleasure that rang through you in response threatened to knock the wind out of you. 

Gale wouldn't, you thought to yourself, surely he wouldn't enchant his-- 

He tilted your chin up with his knuckle, a brutally smug grin plastered on his rosy face as your eyes met again. "Are you with me, dearest?" His thumb came forward to stroke over the plush of your bottom lip, almost pulling it into a pout himself. 

"Yeah," You shivered, nodding without even really thinking about it. You couldn't even bring yourself to poke fun at him for that like you might have otherwise. "Did you--" 

"Shh," Gale cooed, untying the laces of his trousers to relieve some of the pressure before he folded over you and rolled his hips forward again, caging you between the table and his warm, plush frame. The barrier between you was lesser now, and you felt it immediately.

He was radiating the Weave, delicate strands seeping through the thin fabric of your undergarments to kiss, lick, and tingle over your flesh. The sensation wasn't completely foreign-- taking a master wizard as a partner and lover for life naturally lent itself to inappropriate use of the arcane-- but no two intimate encounters with him were ever alike. Sometimes it made you wonder just how many of those hours he spent locked away in his tower were giving him ideas. 

In hardly any time at all you could feel yourself soaking through your panties, your hips rutting forward to chase him and your mind slipping away into a helpless little puddle of mush, and he had barely even touched you yet. It was all by design, of course-- he didn't want to get too cocky and risk wasting a drop of himself that could otherwise be getting you pregnant. 

Discarding his shirt and dragging your panties down with shaking hands, Gale groaned at the sight of your arousal, the extent of it. You were right drooling between your legs, pussy glistening with the very same juices that drenched and clung to your underwear. He couldn't help but dip two fingers between your silky folds to collect your nectar for himself. As soon as it hit his tongue he felt like he couldn't breathe. Your taste was creamy and sweet like icing, a flavor he wouldn't ever tire of even if it was the only thing he could ever have again. He could devour you for a lifetime and still hunger for eternity. 

"You're going to grow so beautifully," He said lowly, eyes half-lidded and his pupils blown wide as saucers. In you he saw nothing but the future. One hand shoving his pants and briefs down his thighs and the other planting itself upon your stomach, his cock sprang up to kiss the plump flesh of his own belly as he continued, "I will thank the divines for the remainder of my life that I should have the pleasure of watching you ripen with our fruit." 

You could have cried. Your bottom lip did wobble a little bit as you gazed up at him, choking up, and he stooped down to kiss you immediately. 

"None of that," He mumbled against your lips, dragging his stiff, weeping cock through your folds to keep you good and dizzy, every contact of his skin against yours still buzzing with the arcane. "I have you, okay? I have you. I love you. You're alright." 

Nodding in response, feeling the tears dry up right then and there, your lips parted in preparation to respond but all that came out was a deep, pleasured cry. Gale was sinking into your hole like he was made for you, stretching you open with slow, delicate thrusts, his breath heavy and lustful in your ear. 

Stuffing you full of himself until the head of him was threatening to kiss your cervix, Gale stilled for a moment, nipping at the shell of your ear before kissing your cheek affectionately and checking in with you, "Feeling good, my darling?" 

"Mhm," You nodded, and as soon as your approval registered to him, he began to move. 

Bliss. Pure and uncut bliss. That quiet little hum of approval quickly melted into staggered breaths and mewls, your hands finding purchase in kneading at the dough of his waist. You really couldn't get over how well the extra weight suited him, how perfectly it softened his edges and padded out the warmest parts of his physique. He was made for a body like this, a little bit round and squishy and sweet. You wanted to swallow him in one bite. 

Every stroke of his cock inside you felt like true euphoria, crackles and tingles of pleasure radiating outward from each and every nerve ending, and he felt it too. You could tell by the look on his face, the way his mouth hung open with deep, wanton moans, the way he shivered and stuttered with damn near every thrust. 

"G-Gale," You cried out, nails printing into his flesh as you tried to tug him down to you. 

Typically he would have obliged you without hesitation, but Gale had other plans at the moment. Bracing himself against the fine oak wood to the right side of your head, his other hand gripped at your thigh and angled your leg up with ease. Before you could register what he was about to do, he was already doing it. 

Folding you into a half mating press, he drove into you deep, the Weave sinking into your bloodstream with a staggering intensity that nearly made you scream. 

Swallowing your cries with his own lips, Gale kissed you just about as deeply as he was fucking you, his facial hair scratching and tickling at your cheeks as his silky tongue slipped over your own. Every knock of his hips against your own had the dining table rattling too, the walls of your marital home ringing with the sounds of sex, the obscene squelching of your pussy sucking him in, the needy whines and moans slipping from you both. 

You felt like you were on fire in the best possible way. Every square inch of your body was alight with lust and magic, your legs hooked around his hips to draw him even closer. The two of you could fuse together and you would still want to get closer. 

Soon enough, your throbbing clit was met with the unexpected pressure of arcane fingertips, measured strokes of a figure-eight over your swollen bud that coaxed you higher and higher and higher until you felt like you were weightless there on that table, lifting from it, your lips only parting from his own as your head fell back against the oven mitt in a desperate gasp for breath. 

That breath was almost immediately followed by a broken cry of his name, the stimulation causing your greedy cunt to clench and pulse around him, again, by design. Sinking down on his elbow so he could speak directly into your ear, his cock stroking so deeply into you that it nearly felt like it was prodding at your lungs, Gale groaned, "That's it, pup, there you are... Such pretty noises from my good girl, my darling little wife..." 

"I love you, I love you, I--" 

Cutting you off with a kiss, Gale replied, "I love you more, and I'll give you as many babies as it takes to prove it."

Your vision went white, thighs wrenching tight around his hips as you plummeted over the edge unlike ever before. It felt like traveling through a lightning bolt, your spine arching up into a fine point, your stomach pressing up against his own as he emptied his load inside you, mage hand still circling your puffy clit. 

Ropes and ropes of creamy seed flooded your hole until you were stuffed to the brim, leaving behind that delicious pressure that came along with being stretched so full. Your bottom half felt heavy as you fought to catch your breath beneath him, tears leaking from your dewy eyes. 

"N-No more, no more with the mage hand," You stammered, sucking in a sharp breath as its thumb and forefinger took your clit in a delicate pinch. 

Another second or two passed in which he continued to have his fun before deciding you'd had enough. The stimulation to your bud slowly ceased, but as he withdrew his softening sex from you, you quickly realized you didn't feel any less full. 

Brows knitting together, you squirmed and struggled to sit up, watching Gale turn his back to dampen a washcloth before returning to you, gently wiping the sweat from your brow and the slick from your inner thighs, brushing your hair away from your face reverently. "Shh, shh. Just sit still for a moment longer, alright? Let me get you cleaned up." 

He continued his gentle work until you were refreshed and sparkling before scooping you up from the dining table like a princess in his arms, carrying you off to the bedroom to get you both changed. 

It was only as the two of you entered the room and you caught sight of yourself in the floor-length mirror that you realized Gale's mage hand was still very much at work, its thick middle and ring fingers plugging you up nicely. Not a drop was wasted with the diligent digits blocking the way. 

Gale helped you out of your dress and into a soft nightgown, and in your exhaustion you were ready to just crash into bed for the night. Curling up atop the covers as Gale changed into loungewear of his own, you were about to fall asleep right then and there when he woke you with a loving grin. 

"Huh?" You mumbled, reaching up to rub your eyes, and as his own raked over the image of your beautiful body, he couldn't stop thinking about the many ways it would come to develop over the next several months. 

"We still haven't eaten, my love." 

You groaned, burying your face back into the bedding stubbornly. "But I'm tired..." 

"You were the one who wanted dessert before dinner, sweetest," He teased. "We've had our dessert, and now it's time for dinner. Besides, I thought we agreed to fluff you up a bit?"

A bashful smile tugging at your cheeks, you narrowed your eyes at him playfully, huffing out, "Okay, okay, fine," reaching your arms out for him to carry you again, and you were so lucky he loved to baby you. 

Gale didn't hesitate to take you into his arms, your head nestled up against his chest as you returned to the kitchen together. He placed you gently down in a chair at the dining table before assessing what he'd left on the stove earlier. His 'masterpiece' was now ice cold and unappealing to him, and surely his darling wife deserved better than cold and unappealing. 

Turning over his shoulder to look at you, Gale asked you a question that you didn't think you'd ever hear him ask; "How about tavern food tonight?"

[adventures-in-mangaland]

Dead Boy Detectives Fic Recs Part 8

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 Part 7

It's almost Christmas and I have a long train journey so have another fic rec list!

Ode to a Conversation Stuck in my Throat by Leandra

In which Charles is a terrible wingman and Edwin fucks. I love fic where Edwin explores his sexuality and gets to be confident and sexy and Charles gets hit with the old Feelings Realization and this one pulls it off so well!

to say that which cannot be said by sulfuric

Charles has a lot of feelings about Edwin and decides to say it with flowers. I absolutely love the language of flowers and, honestly, decoding messages through flower arrangements seems right up Edwin's alley. Plus he deserves nice things! This fic is super sweet, the floracle is amazing and I really like how Charles' knowledge/ intelligence and general thoughtfulness get to shine here.

The Petition by khorazir

The demons of Hell commiserate after Edwin's second escape and decide to Organize. This is glorious crack with some excellent Hell worldbuilding. Does Hell have unions?? I loved the Solidarity and demonic breakroom. And I'm always here for Edwin as the Scourge of Hell. Also has wonderful fanart!

still my heartbeat with your bare hands by laiqualaurelote

Beowulf AU! Charles is hired to kill a horrible monster. I loved this historical/fantasy setting and the little snippets of mythology. The blend of Charles-typical speech patterns, modern slang and Old English was especially fun. The Author's Note also has some really interesting background info and has finally persuaded me to actually read Beowulf.

Super Effective Against Ghost Types by RoseGanymede95

Charles and Niko bonding, my beloved! During the Case of the Two Dead Dragons, Charles interviews Niko about Brad and Hunter and Gets Reminded of his own terrible former friends... This is a Niko PoV fic and this author is fabulous at capturing her voice and bringing the feels. Also in play: a shared love of Pokémon, Charles' Mood Ring Shirt and do the girls know how the boys died?? Canon and Netflix robbed us of these two spending time together and I loved Niko being gentle with Charles as he gets hit in the face by his trauma.

Love like fools by CasiHuman

This is actually a compilation of the author's Dead Boy Detectives comics (@technically-human on tumblr). Every single one is a delight; the artist is one of my favourites of any fandom.

When you are gone away by ghostinthelibrary

On the way to rescuing Edwin from the Fae, Crystal tells Charles about all the previous times this has happened. This is the latest installment of the Ministry of Supernatural Investigations series bringing Edwin and Crystal's backstory to life. I can't get enough of this AU (supernatural secret agents, basically) and we're also treated to oblivious payneland AND oblivious palasaki.

Knockout by e_va

Edwin worries about mysterious injuries Charles refuses to explain. Despite references to domestic/intimate partner violence, this one is sweet and Edwin thirsting after Charles while he's fighting is so funny to me.

Its the love and grief that makes me whole by eunoise

One of Charles' killers comes to the agency for help after he himself is murdered. Apart from the deliciously dramatic irony of that premise, I enjoyed Charles (somewhat) processing his trauma and the client trying to (finally) do right by Charles. It's also set in the Codependency World Cup Extended Universe so Charles fraught relationship with his ex-bestie/crush Mark also gets spotlighted. Recommended!

Luna Moths by thegirlofthorns

Very cute fic about Edwin coming to understand his physical feelings for Charles. I loved the luna moths/butterflies imagery and Edwin being very Edwin about being in love. Just lovely characterisation all round.

It's part of a series also featuring Kiss Me & Repaint Me featuring Charles going all out on "fripperies" to make sure Edwin get the first time he deserves. Lovely.

practise your passion on me by junosbraindump

Niko persuades Edwin to go clubbing as part of a scheme to make Charles jealous. And guess who happens to be at the club?? Minor catwin and and the payneland is cute.

Show Me My Silver Lining by GoodFrith

Charles comes home early to find Edwin torturing himself. This one's sad and emotional and touches on grief, guilt and self-harm/destructiveness but Crystal and especially Charles are amazing friends and the hurt/comfort is excellent.

The Case of the Decade of Despair by Rizandace

In which Edwin and Charles broke up a decade pre-canon and Edwin still ends up in Hell. Sad and interesting concept featuring misunderstandings and supernatural meddling but an eventual happy ending.

A Steady Anchor in the Open Sea by Mayarenerose

Edwin wakes up in the office and doesn't know where he is. Listen, I'm weak for Temporary Amnesia, OK? And this one has an existential threat for some extra angst.

A Short History of Almost Something by dear_monday, two_ravens

Missing scene from the superb fic Wunderkammer that covers the Sex Pollen-esque Incident they Never Talk About... Intense and frustrating almost payneland.

Lucid Dream of Hands on Me by tragedy_machine

Edwin gets hit by a lust spell and refuses to let Charles help out... At first. Fuck or Die culminating in Sex With Feelings for the win!

In the Name of the Law by Hse11z5

(Regular) Police Detectives AU! DS Charles Rowland gets transferred to a precinct in the countryside just in time to join the hunt for Becky Aspen and develop a massive crush on his boss, DI Edwin Payne. Interesting to see the boys as living adults with responsibilities and workplace politics but essentially the same job? And I loved the boys getting to know each other in this one.

lovesick girls by ObsessedWithFandom

Palasaki fic! In which Niko and Crystal's first date does not go to plan... I love seeing cool, confident characters fumble with their crushes, so Crystal attempting to ask Niko out was adorable. But be warned! There's also a feels sneak attack and references to childhood neglect, but also Hurt/Comfort and sickfic.

I might do another Christmas themed rec list closer to the time if people are interested? You guys have been sharing festive fic at an impressive rate! ❤️🎄🎅🎁

@tumblerislovetumblerislife @avoiceofnerat @guardianspirits13 @shazziez @khorazir @tessaaaaa @tw0-ravens @nuttersinc @sameen-shawv @ghostinthelibrarywrites @whatthehorsedoicallthisblog @neurodivergent-fangirling @many-gay-magpies @dear-monday @extremely-eager-reader @atariakana @colourmornings @herebehunters @littlepocketuniverse @overlord-of-chaos @fairandfatalasfair @laiqualaurelote @every-moment-a-different-sound @bibliomancer7 @c-rowland @nobledragonflying @a-pale-jewel @tragedy-machine @acediscowlng

[artsninspo]

「 ✦ rio's library ✦ 」

◘ LEGEND ◘ 🌪️ messy | 🧸 fluffy | ❤️‍🩹 angst | 🌶️ spicy |

◕ in progress | ◍ incomplete | ◉ complete

-`♡´- requests open -`♡´-

⇐ back to library | ⇓ keep reading

short stories

◉ DRINKS

When Rio crosses paths with Ruby's sister-in-law, sparks fly in all the wrong—and right ways. Aloof but intrigued, the reader catches Rio's eye, and what Rio wants, he doesn’t let go of without a fight. Brace yourself for a whirlwind of tension, charm, and unexpected connections as he pushes hard to break through her walls. Are you ready to dive into this rollercoaster of chemistry and chaos?

➨ one - “Baby-Girl”

➨ two- “Whisky, neat”

➨ three - “Jealous type” - 🌶️ 🌪️

➨ four- “Cheers” - 🌶️ 🌪️

long stories

◉ FORGIVELESS

On the night of her wedding anniversary, the reader discovers her husband’s betrayal. Heartbroken but resolute, she finds herself crossing paths with Rio—a magnetic stranger who radiates charm and a touch of danger. Inspired by SZA's hit Forgiveless, this story dives headfirst into her journey of rediscovery and revenge, navigating heartbreak, passion, and a much-needed sense of freedom. Packed with steamy encounters, heartfelt moments, and just the right dose of angst, Forgiveless promises all the fluffy highs and messy lows of a romance that will keep you hooked. Readers can expect a wild ride and a hard-earned happy ending that’s as satisfying as it is sweet.

reviews and commentary

➨ one 🌪️

➨ two 🌶️

➨ three 🌶️

➨ four 🌪️

➨ five ❤️‍🩹

➨ six

➨ seven 🌶️ 🧸

➨ eight 🧸 🌪️

➨ nine 🌪️ 🧸

➨ ten 🌪️

➨ eleven 🌶️ 🧸

➨ epilogue 🧸

➨ christmas epilogue 🧸 ✧.*new 12.19.24 *.✧

requests

➨ "FLAGS? CRIMSON 🚩" - RIO X READER - 🌶️ 🌶️ 🌶️

➨ "CINDERELLA 🛍️" - RIO X READER - 🧸

➨ "FIRST LOVE💗 " - RIO X READER - 🧸

➨ "TIKTOK PRANK 📱" - RIO X READER - 🧸

➨ THAT’S MUFASAAA 🦁 | TIKTOK REACTION - RIO X READER - 🧸 ✧.*new 1.06.25 *.✧

➨ VERY MERRY MARTINI🍸 - RIO X READER - ❤️‍🩹 🧸

➨ ❄️ SNOWED IN SEDUCTION - RIO X READER - 🌶️ 🌪️❤️‍🩹 - ✧.*new 12.24.24 *.✧

➨ 🎇 NANA'S KNOW BEST | NYE - RIO X READER - 🌶️ 🌪️ - ✧.*new 12.29.24 *.✧

drabbles

Rio meeting readers bsf from out of town n she is like gossiping w him about the WILD shit she used to get up to and hes just laughing his ass off cause he thought she was all innocent.

angsty rio x reader during his come-up ✧.*new 12.28.24 *.✧

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[sitp-recs]

top 10 drarry fics by the sheer force of the feels they gave you? not necessarily good feels! things you remember primarily because they hit hard in some way.

obviously, i'd also love to hear exactly how/why they hit hard if you're up for sharing that!

Oh that’s such a wonderful ask, thank you! I’m sorry for the late reply, the 10 fics came easily bc whenever I see those titles I get immediately transported back to where I was and what I felt reading them for the first time. But putting into words what exactly makes them heartkick-y for me was a bit more challengeging. It’s usually a “when you feel it you know it” kind of thing (and quite literally too, as sometimes it manifests as an actual physical reaction!) but more often than not the fic just clicks for me and there’s no rationale behind it. As Clarice Lispector said: “I suppose that understanding myself is not a question of intelligence but of feeling. It either touches you, or it doesn't."

Anyhoo, I tried my best to keep this short and sweet but since I’ve written individual recs for almost all these fics, I thought I’d include them too :) thanks again, this was super fun! And I’d love to read about your picks as well 👀

An Emerald In The Sky by corvuscrowned | my rec

it doesn’t get more romantic than star-crossed lovers doomed by time travel!!!! (see also: my thoughts on The Eighth Tale by lettered). this is my brand of melancholy, something about the constant yearning, the beauty of stolen moments in liminal space, the unfairness of it all… ugh

Far From the Tree by aideomai | my rec

fft has altered my brain chemistry and ruined me forever with its tender devastation, I had such a visceral reaction to it - to the point of feeling dizzy and feverish. a simple time travel concept (this is my kryptonite istg) but the epic storytelling! the gratification! the bittersweet ending! rereading it would kill me but what a way to go

Forgive Those Who Trespass by Lomonaaeren

easily one of the most haunting and terrifying fics I’ve ever read, one jumpscare after the other but so creative and well-written I was too busy collecting my jaw from the floor to talk myself out of it lol

Little Compton Street by writcraft | my rec

as a queer woman, this one feels extremely personal and is very dear to my heart. I’ll never forget the emotions I felt learning about queer history and finding a sense of peace and belonging. lcs feels like coming home 🏳️‍🌈

Little Red Courgette by blamebrampton

this was my first bb fic and their sense of humor just blew my mind. I was so impressed by the smooth world building, by their wit and clever political commentary. I just couldn’t stop laughing. the dialogue is so good it makes me wanna weep, I can’t explain how much joy and comfort this fic gave me

Merlin Works in Mysterious Ways by lordhellebore

full disclosure: my reading experience was shaped by the fact that I didn’t realize the tagged disability would be major and permanent 🤡 by the time I noticed I was so emotionally invested I couldn’t stop. one of the most painful reads I’ve ever endured, worth it tho

Running on Air by eleventy7 | my rec

introspective fics are my jam and this one was just what I needed while working through some shit at a turning point in my life. so I guess it was more about finding the right fic at the right time, and I’m hit by mixed feelings of catharsis and nostalgia every time I revisit roa.

Still Life (orphaned) | my rec

my definition of a perfect shortfic. gorgeous prose, flawless execution, the “nothing is happening but everything is changing” vibes I live for, one of the best Harry pov I’ve ever read and an ending that always makes me gasp in awe. few authors can write complex emotions so effortlessly as seefin, absolute masterclass

Super Rich Kids by trishjames | my rec

criminally underrated, this story broke my heart but also gave me such a THRILL. I usually avoid substance abuse in fic but something about Draco’s spiral journey felt so raw it kept me at the edge of my seat. devastating but also a surprisingly funny and exciting thriller. the range!!!

The Long Fall by tackytiger | my rec

as someone who’s never been into kid fic and family dynamics, this was a punch on the solar plexus and rearranged my whole view about this trope. I was deeply moved by Harry’s longing for a family of his own and despite not having or wanting kids, this still felt really cathartic and changed me in a way I can’t quite explain.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♱ Ｃｉｔｉｅｓ Ｉｎ Ｄｕｓｔ ♱

♱ Pairings: vampire!hyunlix x chubby!fem!vampire!reader, vampire!bang chan

♱ Genre: vampire au/horror/angst/fluff

♱ Summary: After their lover’s taken by vampire hunters, Hyunjin and Felix are willing to do anything to get her back but finding her is only the beginning of a journey down a twisted, blood soaked path where they find there are much scarier things in the world besides them and the biggest threat of them all may be closer than they think.

♱ Word Count: 3.9k-ish

♱ Warnings: vampires, blood, violence, expressions of pain/loneliness/heartbreak, some fluffy kisses. this chapter’s more emotionally driven than ultra bloody (future chapters will for sure get a lil gory), & that’s all

♱ A/N: I’m literally so nervous posting this. It’s the first fic I’ve written in a while and moody vampires are my happy place so I really hope this finds the people who love them too and you guys enjoy it.

I'm also thanking @anyamaris for giving me the confidence to post my writing and for always taking the time out to read my stuff🖤

A vampire can meet her end in any manner of ways. She might find a sharp object driven through her chest, the bones of her ribcage fractured around her faintly beating heart.

Or she could find herself cast out into the sun for a minute too long where she’d roast fiercely from the inside out until she was nothing more than ash in the wind. 

The list goes on, if only briefly, and every hunter knows these methods like a prayer. But there’s another list. One that only certain hunters hold knowledge of. Not a list of ways to kill a vampire but of ways to make them wish you had.

You had the misfortune of coming across the latter. For you there was no archaic wooden post whittled into a stake, no afternoon spent sunbathing in the park. Locked away in the mausoleum of a dead man you've never met, you’re as alive as you’ve ever been.

Alive but paralyzed by the deprivation of the only two things that made eternity worth living. The taste of blood, warm and sweet on your tongue, and the euphoria of a love whose absence has rotted a hole in your heart. 

100 days you’ve been here, turning to stone like the angelic statues that guard your tomb, and the pain grows impossibly deeper as the next approaches.

But you’ll not have to suffer another night in this hell. You’ll be free, you’ll taste blood again, feel truly alive. Your loves will see to it. 

Standing at 712 ft tall, the Žižkov Television Tower looms above the romantically gothic city of Prague. It’s breathtaking beneath the night sky. Endless miles of beauty in every direction begging to be admired.

Most humans couldn’t dream of ever reaching the heights necessary to indulge but one man’s found himself lucky enough to take it all in. Maybe dangling upside down by your leg doesn’t technically count as luck but it’s all about perception. 

“Please! Just let me go!” the bloodied man begs, the wind cold and sharp as it whips his tears back against his red cheeks. All of the blood’s rushed to his head and his view of the horizon has blurred into something reminiscent of watercolor painting. 

“Let you go?” Hyunjin giggles, perched atop a platform. “That’s a really bad choice of words but okay.”

The dark haired vampire loosens his grip on the man’s ankle, reveling in the cry of desperation that leaves the man’s lips. Hunters are always this way when you catch them. So very pathetic. So weak. 

“Wait! No! No! Please!” the man cries in the split second before his ankle’s secure in Hyunjin’s grasp again. “I don’t know where she is. I swear to God.”

“You swear to god when you lie?” a deep voice questions, unamused with his hypocrisy. “Do you not claim to do his work? And you take his name in vain?” 

Hyunjin looks to the blond haired companion at his side, “Felix, are you telling me you don’t believe the words of this upstanding gentleman?” 

“I’m telling the truth!” the man insists, his nose beginning to snot, turning him into a blubbering mess. “I don’t know where they put her. After we took her…” 

Felix’s eyes pulse a deep, electric red at those last four words. After we took her. “So you took her! Where?” he shouts, his voice near animalistic as he reaches down, grabbing the hunter by the neck. 

It’s dizzying for the man to find himself upright for the first time in what seems to be an eternity but there’s no time to breathe a sigh of relief. Indeed, he can’t breathe at all. Felix’s hand is tight around his neck, crushing his windpipe at a torturously slow pace.

When he saw these creatures cloaked in back, their elegantly sharp features forming in the darkness of his apartment, he knew what they were and what they wanted. Who they wanted. And death inevitably lay before him.

Truth or lies? Would either change his fate? He hasn’t come to decide and there’s little time now for contemplation. 

“You need to calm down” Hyunjin cautions, razor sharp nails drumming against the metal railing. 

“Calm down?” Felix snaps, his fangs glinting in the moonlight, “You heard him. They took her. He took her! Why aren’t you angrier? Or do you even care?” 

In the blink of an eye Hyunjin is on his feet, his hand hovering near Felix’s throat, prepared to choke him the way he does the poor limp man he dangles like a ragdoll. 

“Bad things happen when we let our anger get the best of us and we don’t want that. Do we?” Hyunjin warns through gritted teeth. 

His gaze still locked on the man, Felix’s rage calms barely enough to sense. Hyunjin rests his hand against the porcelain skin of Felix’s neck, violence melting into its own strange form of empathy as he pats it gently.

They came here for the same reason and the success of this, like all they’ve ever done in their afterlife, depends entirely upon their ability not to kill each other. But other people? Well, that’s a different story. 

“One last chance. Where’d you take her?” Hyunjin presses the man, knowing every second spent here is a second wasted. 

With two sets of immortal eyes burning a hole through his very soul, the man makes a decision on his life. A decision he regrets in an instant. 

“Don’t r-remeber” he croaks out.

“Yikes” Hyunjin hisses, disappointed but almost equally excited to finally be rid of this scumbag, “Wrong choice of words yet again. Seems to be your thing.” 

Felix frees the man from his grasp, tossing him out into the night like garbage. It’s been said that when you fall from a building you black out before hitting the ground but there’s much more that happens before that final moment.

A fear so overwhelming you find yourself going borderline insane. Collapsed blood vessels. Rupturing cells. All before you hit the ground and become a piece of abstract art to be washed away in the morning. Messy, messy stuff. 

As the hunter’s screams fade into the distance below, the two vampires are left in an uncomfortable silence heavy with the weight of questions unanswered. They dropped everything to come here, chased down every lead possible, and now their most promising one is hurling towards the ground at 120mph. 

“I know she’s here somewhere” Felix sighs, breaking the silence, “I can feel her. She’s so alone, Hyunjin. She thinks we forgot about her. I can’t let her think that.”

Felix’s voice begins to crack, the heartbreak almost bringing him to tears. 101 days and every single one of them has been like a living hell. Getting closer was supposed to make things better but the closer they get the more the pain clouds their vision, thickening like fog until it’s impossible to see beyond it. 

Hyunjin can only wish for the words that will make this all better. Anything at all to cool the pain searing through their chests. Even with Felix’s eyes almost pleading for him to say something that will make him feel less alone—less like he’s the only one hurting—Hyunjin can’t manage to let the wall down. Building it was all he could do to keep from burning this city to dust and any chance of finding his love right along with it. 

“Right. Why do I bother? Why don’t you go back home, Hyunjin? Go rot with all your paintings. You always did like them better.”

Hyunjin parts his soft, rosy lips to issue another passive threat but, as quiet as his next breath, Felix disappears, abandoning him to a new brand of silence. The kind that leaves Hyunjin’s mind to race uninterrupted, sending memories washing over him so viciously he can’t resist being swept away. 

Painting by moonlight.

Hyunjin has done it countless times in the last 300 years and it never loses its charm. There’s something so romantic about it. So relaxing. Tonight’s hunt had demanded a brutality of him that he seldom likes to reveal but with every stroke of the brush against canvas the beast within him calms, lulled back to sleep by the sound of water rushing from the ornate fountains of the back garden.

The subject of Hyunjin’s painting sits peacefully in the distance. A sprawling English manor that he’s called home for the past 50 years. Despite an external appearance that might have one think people were once beheaded on these grounds by some temperamental tyrant—they likely were—it emanates a sense of warmth from within and the source of it just sped past in a blur of light, nearly knocking his painting over. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” you apologize, stopping to catch your breath. Carefully straightening the canvas back out on the easel, another blur whisks by, knocking you into the grass. 

“Tag! You’re it now!” Felix declares gleefully, his limbs intertwined with yours as you struggle to sit up.

“I can’t be it if you break my back.”

“Your enemies don’t care if they break your back, my little flower” Felix hums, picking blades of grass from your hair. 

Hyunjin rolls his eyes, turning his attention back to his painting as he mouths every word that Felix says next. 

“You have to keep your endurance up. Never let anyone get the advantage. Life may seem sweet behind these walls but trust me…”

You let out a giggle at the faces Hyunjin makes as he mimics a dead serious Felix. It isn’t that you don’t take Felix seriously. He’s lived much longer than you have, gone through things you couldn’t imagine. All he wants to do is protect you, it’s more than anyone ever did for you in your mortal life, but sometimes you wish he’d stop worrying. For his own sake. 

Felix frowns, your giggles drawing his attention to Hyunjin. “Are you making fun of me?” 

“Making fun of you?” Hyunjin gasps, crossing his legs. “I’d never make fun of you baby brother.”

“Baby brother? You’re older than me by 5 months!”

Hyunjin grins, never bored with his ability to get under Felix’s skin. “5 months and 26 days. Can’t forget the 26 days.”  

As much as you adore their trademark bickering, the grass is itchy and your back actually hurts. You’re hardly in the mood for this tonight.

Grabbing Felix by the collar, you kiss him before he can take Hyunjin’s bait. You only intend for it to be the faintest peck, just enough to shut him up, but he wastes no time pulling you on top of him and enveloping you in his arms.

The kiss deepens as his fingers massage the fullness of your figure through the plush cotton of your dress. His touch makes any bit of pain you feel melt away, replacing it with a tingling sensation that spreads throughout your entire body.

You forget in this moment that anything else exists in the world. There’s only the feeling of his lips pressed against yours, your hearts matching each other’s rhythm as the heat grows between you. 

Hyunjin can feel it too. Every sensation Felix takes in. It snuffs out his own senses, replacing the feeling of the carved wooden brush in his hand with the sinfully tempting softness of your flesh. He can taste you on his tongue, smell the delicate floral scent of your perfume. It’s everything he wants and nothing he needs right now. 

“I guess I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it. Go hurl myself into the sun or something.”

Hyunjin makes no attempt at hiding his irritation as he walks off, leaving his things behind. 

“Is that jealousy I sense?” you tease, appearing in front of him with an innocent pout on your face. 

He shoos you away,  offended at the accusation that he’d ever waste his energy on such an insignificant human emotion.

“No. Just bored” he lies, attempting to step around you. 

You block his way, placing a hand on each of his cheeks to keep his eyes fixed on you. “You’re both very special to me. I love you and I never want you to get so…bored that you forget that.” 

It’s silly to imply that your love is something he could ever question. There are many things he’s come to question in this world but the day will never come where that’s among them.

No matter how close he finds himself teetering on the edge of that thing called jealousy. Just having you near him, staring at him with stars in your eyes like he’s the center of the universe, is enough to bring him back from it. 

Hyunjin takes you by the waist, pulling you closer and into a kiss much deeper than the last. He has a way of enchanting you so completely that you’d swear you were under a spell. A spell cast on your soul, laced within his kiss, and sealed with the fingertips that trail their way up your spine. If there’s a way to break it may that secret remain buried for the length of eternity. 

“I love you too” he whispers, sending all of the blood from your last meal rushing to your cheeks.

“Good because you…are…it!” You tag him on the shoulder and disappear into the surrounding forest, cloaked by the shadows of the trees.

Felix hops to his feet, knowing Hyunjin’s competitive streak won’t let him sit this one out.  “Do I get a head start?”

Hyunjin laughs, baring his fangs, “Just shut up and run.” 

Felix follows your lead and Hyunjin wastes no time taking off after the two of you. Suspecting that you’ve found yourself a hiding space by now, Hyunjin focuses on who he senses closest to him. Maneuvering through the trees with a graceful swiftness, Hyunjin zones out the symphony of the night to isolate the sound of Felix’s breathing.

Felix has managed to make it imperceptible enough that a less experienced vampire may not know he was breathing at all. Picking up speed, he circles around Felix, slamming into him as he jumps to perch atop a branch.

Felix hits the ground with a thud, rolling through the dirt and into a small pile of leaves. 

“I really have to learn how to fall.”

Hyunjin helps him to his feet but not without rubbing it in. 

“All these years and you still can’t outrun me.” 

Felix shrugs, dusting himself off, “Maybe I just wanted to slow you down.” 

“Betrayal!” Hyunjin gasps, “You’ll pay for this later.” 

He turns to chase after you, determined not to let you get one up on him, but Felix grabs him by the arm, a look of concern painting his face. 

“Do you smell that?” Felix frowns, sniffing the air.

His nostrils are assaulted by the bitter smell of something burning nearby. He takes a few steps back towards the house and the air grows thicker with the scent of wood burning like kindling for a campfire. But it’s more than that. 

Hyunjin picks up on it too, glancing back to spot flames dancing in the windows of the place you call home. Without thinking, they race back through the forest, effortlessly closing the distance between them and the burning manor.

They make it to the backdoor in time to see it engulfed by flames that climb the side of the building, torching the rose vines you spent all summer tending to.

“Stay back here!” Felix shouts, already charting an alternate course into the house, “I’ll go around front and find another way in!”

Hyunjin watches in shock as the windows of the top floor shatter, sending glass cascading to the ground. The way the fire’s burning, it doesn’t make sense. There’s no pattern. No source. Something’s not right. 

And that’s when the true panic sets in. The realization that something’s missing. Someone’s missing.

“Where is she?” he asks, his heart sinking. 

The question stops Felix where he stands and his eyes drifts back to the forest. He may nag you about the need to sharpen your abilities but you’re the most perceptive vampire he’s ever met. If they picked up on the scent of smoke you would’ve too. You’d be here by now. 

A new possibility opens up, turning his stomach. You wouldn’t have gone back into the house. You couldn’t have. He shakes it off, venturing back into the garden to find you.

Hyunjin has the same worry but can’t bring himself to quiet it. Taking a few steps back, he closes his eyes and hurls his body through a first floor window. His body slams against the floor, dislocating his shoulder. The pain is blinding, shooting through his right side like a jolt of electricity. 

Flames roar around him, swallowing up everything he ever held dear and none of it means a thing. There’s only one thing he cares about and he’ll lose himself before he loses you. Crawling to his feet, cuts littering his once perfect face, he calls out to you but is met with only silence. 

Outside Felix has abandoned the garden to search for you in the woods where the only creatures returning his cries are those of the woodlands. They scream for you until their throats are raw. Beg for any sign you’re there until tears sting their eyes and stain their cheeks. Until the flames eat the walls like acid and the forest becomes a black barren sea. 

They search for you, weep for you, but you’re gone—ripped away from them—and the pain they feel now is nothing compared to what’s to come. 

Flowing through the city’s center, the Vltava River is said to be a place where one can find peace. Amongst all the lights and buzzing tourism, this spot on the bridge was supposed to be soothing but, unfortunately for Felix, he can only muster up annoyance and something he’s yet to recognize as a drop of envy. 

Below him private yachts and ferry boats float their way up and down the river. They’re brimming with humans laughing and partying. Their joy permeates everything, giving the city a feeling of lightness that he promptly rejects.

A few months ago he might’ve found this city charming, maybe even smiled at the simple joys humans seem to find in life, but now all that’s beautiful feels tainted. 

“It doesn’t have to be,” a friendly voice reassures him. 

Felix jumps back, startled by the sudden appearance of a young man not much older than he is. Dressed in all black designer clothing from head to toe, he still manages to carry himself with the laid back energy of the type of guy who’s everyone’s best friend. But there’s something off about him and it makes Felix’s skin crawl.

He extends a hand to Felix, a peace offering of sorts before the war has even begun. 

“It doesn’t have to be what?” Felix asks, staring at his hand as if it were laced with poison. 

“Tainted. Darkness and beauty can coexist, yeah?” 

“How’d you…”

The man’s eyes pulse red, answering Felix’s question in an instant. Another vampire? He recognizes that accent. It’s similar to his own. This one’s not from here. 

“I’m from Australia. Name’s Chris. Nice to meet you, Felix.” 

Felix���s skin’s no longer crawling, it’s crawling off.

Chris keeps his hand out, a sugary sweet grin stretched across his lips. He’s immovable and something tells Felix if he doesn’t give in now they’ll be here all night.

He cautiously shakes his hand, trying to assess the vampire’s intentions without giving too much away. Mind reading isn’t a gift all vampires have. It’s a power said to fall to the eldest or craziest amongst them and it’s much too early to say which to file this one under. 

“A vampire who can read minds,” Felix sighs, unimpressed. “I’ve never met one of you before. So is this what you do? Just go digging around in people’s minds without their permission? I already hate it.”

“You’re sassy. I like you” Chris laughs, taking a moment to admire the view. “Too uptight though. It won’t kill you to unwind a little. Take in some of the sights. Ever been to Olšany Cemetery?”

“A vampire hanging at the cemetery?” Felix scoffs, turning back to the river. “A bit cliche, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know. Would you risk being cliche if it meant finding her?”

Felix’s blood runs cold, rage melding with confusion. Chris pats him on the shoulder, a superficial display of familiarity for the blissfully ignorant humans walking by. 

“Probably wanna rip my head off now, hmm? But you can’t” he taunts, “Not in front of all these people and even if you tried to fight me I can assure you that you’d lose and your little Hyunjin would be left all alone in the world again. How depressing.”

Felix grabs him by the wrist, threatening to crush it as he peels his hand away from his shoulder. “What are you talking about?”

Amused by the whole ordeal, Chris sees no reason to hold out. That isn’t why he came here after all.

“In Olšany Cemetery there’s a mausoleum. It’s guarded by two marble angels. An architect’s buried there” he trails off in thought, pretending to forget where he was going with this, “Oh yes, but he’s not there anymore. There’s somebody else.” 

“Somebody like who?” 

Bone should be splintering right now from the force of his fingers contorted around Chris’ wrist but nothing’s happened. It hurts like a pinch from a child, barely enough to bat an eye at, let alone inflict genuine pain. Maybe this vampire isn’t older or crazier than he is. Maybe he’s both.

“The girl you’re searching for. Go there and you’ll find her but be careful…” Chris warns but his words fall on deaf ears as Felix shoves past him, having heard everything he needs to abandon the unpleasantness of this interaction. 

There’s nothing about this stranger that he trusts. In fact, he’s never met anyone he disliked so much so soon but this isn't a lie. There’s no logic for it, no sound reasoning to justify why he’s digging his phone out to find the fastest way to some old cemetery on the edge of the city.

He knows nothing of the vampire’s motives or how, even with his abilities, he knows all that he does. They’re questions whose answers will have to wait until he finds you and nothing in the world, not even his own doubts, can stop him.

“I was just gonna tell you to be careful. She’s not who you think she is anymore” Chris mumbles to himself. “Actually I think she’s something far better.” 

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

☀️ with evan buckley "I would choose you over anyone." { keeping the relationship a secretl and catching eyes in a crowded room} pleaseeee

Fire Hazard.

l. Catching eyes in a crowded room + m. Keeping the relationship a secret + 17. "I would choose you over anyone."

Author's Note - this is a drabble written as part of my 500 Followers Celebration!! find that post here if you're interested. my first buck fic!! love him so much, he's an angel :((

Pairing - Evan Buckley x Female Reader

Age Rating - 16+

Warnings - none!! just tooth rotting fluff x

Word Count - 710

Masterlist. 500 Follower Celebration Masterlist.

It's absolutely against the rules.

There's a strict no fraternisation policy in place in every firehouse. It's there for a reason, after all. The city can't have all of its firefighters totally distracted because they're in love with each other.

Buck has never been one to follow the rules.

The minute he saw you, he knew he was in trouble. You cruised into the 118 with your sun kissed skin and gentle eyes and he knew there was no turning back. You flashed that million dollar smile in his direction and he could have sworn his heart skipped a beat. Yeah, he was screwed.

Little did he know, the feelings were very mutual. The first time he laughed at one of your jokes, your knees almost gave way. He looks at you like you're the only girl in the world. You feel like it, when you're with him.

At the 118, they call you Hazard. No one knows the meaning of the nickname besides Buck. Your little secret.

It came about one Friday morning shift. You weren't supposed to be working that day, but Hen called in sick, so Bobby asked you to cover. You were actually planning on going to the farmer's market, but you diverted your journey and made your way to the firehouse.

You weren't exactly dressed for work. You were wearing a pale yellow floral sundress that fell mid thigh, paired with sneakers and sunglasses. Buck took one look at you and almost passed out.

"Thank you so much for coming at such short notice. You're the best," Bobby says as you walk across the floor.

"It's no problem," you smile, making your way upstairs to grab some water.

Everyone goes back to their tasks, but Buck's eyes are glued to you. You look at him through your lashes, and he abandons cleaning the truck to run after you.

"Hey, you," he grins.

"Hey! You're in a good mood today," you wink.

"Well a pretty girl just walked into the room, so."

"Really? Where?"

You look around while laughing, and he shoves you playfully.

"You're an idiot," he chuckles.

You look at each other for a moment, before you realise what you're wearing.

"Well, I guess I better change," you tell him, turning to leave.

"Wait!"

Buck grabs your wrist and spins you back around, pulling you into him.

"Can you just give me one more minute to admire you in this dress?"

You look down at your feet, slightly taken aback by his boldness. Buck is not one to ever hold back, but he seems to with you. If only you knew it's because he's worried he'll accidentally tell you how he feels - or worse.

He uses his thumb to tilt your chin up so you're looking at him.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, aware of the other people on the level below. "Most beautiful girl in the world."

"In the entire world?" you tease.

"Are you kidding?" he asks sincerely. "I would choose you over anyone."

He leans in without hesitation and presses a kiss to your lips. It's sweet and chaste and a promise of so much more. When he pulls away, you're both grinning like idiots.

"I've been waiting to do that since the first day I met you," he confesses.

"Well I've been waiting for you to do that since the first day you met me," you giggle.

He kisses you again quickly, before grabbing a hold of your hand.

"Wear this dress again tomorrow night."

"Tomorrow night?"

"When I take you out on a real date."

You aim a beaming smile at him, and his heart skips a beat.

"Fine, since you asked so nicely," you wink. "I can't wait."

You lean up to kiss him softly. You both can't get enough.

"If I knew that this dress is all it would take for you to ask me out, I would have worn it months ago," you laugh.

"You walked in and I thought I was gonna burst into flames. You're a fire hazard, woman."

You shove at his arm jokingly, smiling as you do it.

"Well it's a good job I'm a firefighter, huh?" you tease.

No one needs to know how you got your nickname. It's your little secret.

[wave2tyun]

cool hot sweet love | ☆

pairing: barista!beomgyu x fem!reader, surfer!yeonjun x fem!reader

genre: summer!au, lovetriangle!au, fluff, romance, a tiny bit of angst?

summary: embarking on a journey towards self-discovery, you didn’t expect to also have your heart tangled in an alluring summer romance. but, who’s gonna be the first to win your heart? the sweet barista, beomgyu, or the charming surfer boy, yeonjun? let the love games begin!

warnings : alcohol consumption, a few swear words, minor injury, (almost) drowning

word count: almost 10k + the endings are like 1k each

a/n: i've been feeling super nostalgic about this fic recently (it's one of the very first i've written!! :0), so here it is back again in all it's glory!!!! this is too long for me to search through for any mistakes i'm sorry asbjdha for all my summer enthusiasts, let's hang in there just a little bit more, this one goes out to y'all!!!!😼😼💞

☆ = repost from my old blog!!

at the end of your final year of high school, you found yourself chasing a dream, a dream that was never truly yours to begin with. competitions and grades never seemed to bring you any satisfaction anymore. your parents’ praises didn’t seem enthusiastic either, but rather an automatic response. you felt completely lost. the one thing that seemed to give you the drive to keep on going, suddenly lost its spark. you were living in a greyed out world, having the same exhausting routine over and over again. you wanted a break from it all. for once, you didn’t long for the pressure or the big goals, but simply for living life just as it was. you wanted an escape from the clutches of mundane life, which is why you chose to swallow your pride and opt for a gap year after graduation. you knew your parents well, and you weren’t expecting them to be happy about your decision. they didn’t want to let their “dream daughter” fall down from the top and watch as everybody else around her were working on their way to success. but what they failed to consider was that success is in no way linear, and that your break was in the end substantial for your wellness. you were very lucky to have a friend like yeji in your life though. she did have her own struggles with academic validation as well, yet she never had any pressure coming from her parents. she wanted to be there for you, and made her parents persuade yours about letting you have a gap year with her. to raise the ball even higher, her parents added one condition: should you have a gap year, you weren’t allowed to remain in the city. instead, you were going to stay at their vacation home, at least for the summer, to let you experience the thrill of the unknown, as well as to help you get a breath of fresh air.

you didn’t know what kind of black magic yeji’s family used, but whatever they did, somehow managed to convince your parents to agree to your proposal. finally, you felt like you had found some motivation to keep on pushing through, making your heart fill up with excitement.

as the number of days leading up to your departure shortened, you were meeting up more and more with yeji for your final preparations. your sleepovers consisted of the two of you giggling while packing and making lists, as well as making up scenarios deep into the night about things that could finally “bring some spice” into your lives. even though it was her own family’s house, yeji hasn’t been there in years. she was living under the impression that a holiday there would just be “a distraction from her studies” or “a waste of time”. however, now that you were both free from that brainwashing hell called school, you realised how much you’ve actually been missing out on.

“do you really think that this “project” will finally bring that change we want in our lives?” you asked yeji, breaking the silence after some long moments of tossing and turning in your bed. you found it almost impossible to fall asleep. it was the last night before you were going to leave behind everything in your life so far. the excitement was still there, but you couldn’t deny the fact that there were all sorts of worries and doubts clouding your mind, and you found yourself wondering more and more often whether you were truly making a good decision.

“y/n, are you letting your worries take over your mind again?” she let out a soft laugh, then turned around to face you “i understand though, i’ve been getting that too. but- are those thoughts really worth it? i mean- we’ll never know unless we try, so i think it’s definitely worth a shot.”

you sighed “still- i don’t think i’d be able to face my parents again if i fail this.”

“y/n...this is not a test. there’s nothing to fail here. personally, i would rather try and regret than live my whole life wondering “what if”.”

you hummed. yeji was right. you hugged her tightly, trying to show her how much you appreciated her comforting words. and just like this, you were finally able to let your body drift off into a deep slumber. it was now or never, and you weren’t just gonna sit there and wait forever.

───⋆☆─────────────

the ride to the vacation house turned out to be a challenge in itself. yeji was the only one with a driver’s license, so you had no choice but to stay in the passenger’s seat with both a gps and a map in hand. unfortunately for yeji, you had one flaw: you were absolutely terrible with directions, meaning that the trip that was supposed to be 6 hours long, ended up taking you 9 hours instead. you got lost in some strange forests twice; yeji pulled over the side of the road multiple times, trying to make sense of the directions you were telling her, occasionally getting out to buy a piece of fresh fruit whenever she spotted a merchant. she said that it was helping her brain think, and that she was also helping to keep a business going. you didn’t need any excuses for fresh fruit though. fresh fruit is good food after all.

when you somehow made it to the house, you felt your body refilling with energy, despite having that whole trip take 10 years off your lifespan. sitting right in front of you was a 2-story house with pale blue walls and a white wooden porch.

“i can’t believe we made it out alive” you said after getting out of the car. you weren’t sure how much more you could endure the constant buzzing of the air conditioner, and yeji’s one and only cd playing on replay.

“you can’t believe we made it? what about me, i was the one having to endure all those truck drivers swearing at me for taking wrong turns, because someone, not telling who, is incapable of using any kind of maps”

“whew- i wonder who that is.” you gasped dramatically “must be tough dealing with them. bet they are a lovely person though”

“they sure are” she giggled “now come on, let’s get our luggage out of the trunk before the heat melts everything away.”

“need a hand with that?” you heard an unfamiliar voice shouting from the distance. you turned around and saw a group of 3 young men coming your way. you and yeji looked at each other dumbfounded, unsure what to answer. you nudged her with your elbow.

“do you know them?”

“no idea who they are...” she whispered back.

“you must be yeji and y/n- right? i’m hueningkai, yeji’s parents let us know that you were coming today, so we stopped by to see if you needed any help” the boy with a brown mullet said. “that’s soobin and this is taehyun” he pointed at the other two, both of them giving you a warm smile and a small wave in return. you were almost too stunned to speak. luckily for you, yeji replied while you were busy staring at them with big eyes.

“i think i recall them mentioning you briefly before leaving. actually, weren’t there supposed to be two more people or am i not remembering well?”

“you must be talking about beomgyu and yeonjun.” soobin answered “their shifts haven’t ended yet so they’re still busy at the beach. we can go over there if you want to after you settle in.”

“sounds great.” you said picking up the first luggage.

“that looks heavy- let me handle that” taehyun replaced the luggage in your hand with a bag. “t-thanks.” you were taken aback by their kindness. boys at your school never even spare a glance in your direction, let alone help you carry something. if it weren’t for the boys, you and yeji would have probably passed out on the floor after moving everything inside.

───⋆☆─────────────

the house was only a 5-minute walk away from the beach, during which you got to learn a tiny bit more about each other. hueningkai told you that he’s the one in charge for making playlists and playing music; soobin worked along with beomgyu at the bar, meanwhile taehyun got a small job as a kitchen assistant because of his newly-found passion for cooking. they were all around your age and yet they seemed to have already found their passions, living life without much worry in mind. you wished you could live like that too, and maybe, just maybe, this was your chance to find that out.

“welcome-“ “-to paradise!” soobin exclaimed spreading his arms in the air.

“woah-” both you and yeji said in unison, making everybody else laugh.

“welcome to paradise indeed” you said, placing your feet on the warm golden sand. there was music playing around you, not too loud so that you could still hear the sound of the waves softly crashing against the shore. it was breath-taking.

“and you haven’t seen everything yet” taehyun chuckled, leading you towards the beach bar. “beomgyu- we’re here!” he shouted.

you squinted your eyes trying to see who this “beomgyu” was from afar, but your vision simply failed you. and when you got closer, you were simply not mentally prepared to face the person in front of you.

“guys i told you not to-“ he started off, seemingly irritated “oh- hi.” he scratched his neck, giving you a shy smile. at that very moment, you swore you felt your heart skip a beat.

“y/n, yeji- this is beomgyu. our one and only barista.”

“the best one in town!” beomgyu added cheerfully.

“ah- so humble too.” taehyun teased him, sighing dramatically.

“hey- what are you implying?” beomgyu sulked, but you couldn’t even pay attention to their bickering. your eyes were way too busy going over beomgyu’s features. ripe, cherry red locks of hair framed his eyes, those eyes that resembled two pearls of boba from a brown sugar milk tea, with long, beautiful eyelashes adoring them. you thought he looked just like a honey bear.

“i’m yeji- it’s nice to meet you” she shook his hand “this is y/n.”

beomgyu smiled and you reached your hand out for him to shake it. his soft hands enveloped yours, and you couldn’t help but notice how bigger they were than yours. you felt his hand lingering for just a few seconds more, and you were already missing his warm touch once he let go.

“so- want to have a look over our menu? it’s on the house” beomgyu offered.

“oh cool i’ll have the-“ soobin started talking, instantly getting cut off by beomgyu “not you- the girls!” he jokingly gave him a death stare “you’ve all been profiting too much off my generosity lately, you don’t deserve any free drinks today.”

you and yeji snickered, they all looked really close to each other, like brothers. it was like you were witnessing a petty fight between siblings.

“one strawberry lemonade for me please!” yeji said.

your eyes were still scanning the menu, hands continuously flipping the pages back and forth as you chewed on your bottom lip. beomgyu leaned over to you, the sweet scent of his citrus perfume invading your senses.

“want me to recommend anything?”

“ah- yes please. there are too many drinks here that sound good.” you replied “nothing with alcohol though, the trip here already gave me a headache.” you glared at yeji, who lifted one eyebrow at you.

he chuckled “people usually enjoy the peach smoothie, myself included. does that sound good?” his deep brown eyes peered into yours, never breaking eye contact- not even for one second. “sounds perfect.” you replied, almost completely absorbed by his gaze.

“until that’s done-” hueningkai chimed in “we should go ahead and meet up with yeonjun too.”

“don’t take too long though” beomgyu said “my shift is ending soon.”

“we’ll be fast- have you seen him around by chance?”

“last time i talked to him he was at the surfing board shop. maybe check that out first?” beomgyu replied, before going to the drinks station to get started on your orders.

“oh- i haven’t seen you around here before?”

you almost jumped out of your seat, startled by the new voice that interrupted your conversation.

“yeonjun! perfect timing.” hueningkai said “we were planning to go looking for you.”

“is that so?” he playfully asked, plopping down on the seat between you and yeji. his voice turned out to be much more attractive than you had anticipated, it was smooth, yet slightly husky and deep. you turned your head to look at him for the first time.

“i’m yeji- and this is...” her voice trailed down, expecting you to answer again. you were frozen, being too immersed to take in yeonjun’s appearance. you could notice his muscular form, not hidden away from the tight-fitted swimming shirt he was wearing. his sharp eyes game him a fox-like charm, making you feel inexplicably drawn to him. in contrast, his plump lips make him look adorable, like a sulky duck. what was a man like him even doing on a secluded beach-? yeji coughed, giving you a small nudge.

“y/n.” you managed to blurt out, a stupid smile plastered on your face.

“ah- huening, why didn’t you mention that such pretty girls were coming here today?” you almost dropped the drink’s coaster you had in your hand as he said that.

“it hasn’t even been 5 minutes and he’s already flirting” taehyun groaned, covering his face with his hands.

beomgyu rolled his eyes at his friend’s antics, setting down the drinks for you and yeji on the counter before finding a seat on the bar stools to join you.

“like i’ve said-“ hueningkai intervened “we were about to look for you. are you done with lessons for today?”

“yup. some kid had a sunstroke so i got off work early”

“what kind of lessons do you teach?” you asked curiosity taking over.

“i’m a surfing teacher for kids.” he answered “it’s a small job to make some money. for you, however- i could do it for free, since you’re cute” he winked at you, making your cheeks flush instantly.

“i’m sure y/n would love to try something new” yeji butted in, answering before you could open your mouth to speak. “that’s what we’re here for, after all. right?”

“right...” you squinted your eyes at her, giving her a light kick with your foot.

“it’s decided then.” he chuckled “i’ll be waiting.”

this is how all the conversations during the first day went like; your mind going blank, with yeji either saving you from embarrassment or only digging your hole deeper. still, you enjoyed it, you ended up staying at the beach long after the sun started to set. the chilly breeze coming from around the sea was made you get up from your seats, at long last.

───⋆☆─────────────

the next day, you found yourself back at the beach sometime in the afternoon. you did everything you could to wake up yeji, but to no avail. the drive here must have completely tired her out, as she was sleeping soundly as a rock. in the end, you let her continue to rest, choosing to go out by yourself.

“so, what’s it gonna be for today?” beomgyu asked, leaning his head on the palm of his head. “may i interest you in one of my signature cocktails, perhaps?”

“i’d love that” you smiled.

this time, you watched as beomgyu prepared your drink. he lifted the sleeves of his dress shirt up, revealing the way his forearm muscles tensed up as he picked up the glass bottles full of alcohol. his precise movements could tell you that he must have had plenty of experience as a barista. your eyes wandered off further, focusing on the way his long slender fingers, still slightly dripping with water from having washed fruits earlier, handled the knife with such skill and care. you remembered the moment you held his hands yesterday, how soft his skin was to your touch- you shook your head, trying to get that thought away.

“all done” beomgyu brought you a tall glass, ripe cherry sitting proudly on top, floating on the ice. “it’s a cherry daiquiri.”

you pushed the straw past your lips, a sweet yet tangy taste filling up your mouth. beomgyu looked at you, eyes gleaming with curiosity and anticipation. feeling a bit mischievous, you put on a serious expression.

“well uh-“ you paused, pursing your lips “this was quite-“

 beomgyu gulped, the content look on his face fading away.

“-quite possibly the best cocktail i’ve ever had” you couldn’t help but burst into laughter upon seeing the cute expression he had on his face. he closed his eyes, tilting his head back and breaking into a smile.

“you had me seriously questioning my bartender skills for a moment there”

“sorry- i had to” you giggled “i really mean it though, i’ve never had something that tasted this good before” beomgyu’s dimple appeared as he tried to conceal the big smile taking over his face.

“y/n!” yeji shouted, jogging to reach the bar.

“look who’s finally up”

“i slept through my alarm- sorry” she sighed, sitting down beside you.

‘not just through your alarm’

you hummed as you continued to sip on your drink, admiring the scenery in front of you. it was a peaceful atmosphere, the catchy beats of the music being sometimes interrupted by the squawking of the seagulls in the distance. right at the shore was a small group of kids, with yeonjun in the middle of them, standing on a surfing board. they all seemed to be bursting with energy, like bottles of soda that were about to explode. yeonjun knew how to match their energy well, while still keeping everything under control.

“instead of staring at him so intensely, why don’t you go and take up his offer?”

you snorted, crinkling your nose “me? surfing? no thanks- i’m saving myself from that embarrassment”

“and? if you only worry about embarrassing yourself then you won’t ever end up making a change with your life” yeji wrapped her arms around her body “-and this exactly what we’re here for, something new. don’t just let this opportunity go to waste.”

you frowned, chewing on your straw. even though your brain didn’t like to admit it, she was right. you were so caught up in your own comfort bubble, that it was holding you back.

“looks like he’s getting a break now” yeji muttered “come on- this is your chance!”

“alright- i’m going” you agreed at last, gulping down the rest of the drink before heading towards yeonjun’s spot. you walked with a determined look on your face- and shaky hands.

you tapped yeonjun on the shoulder, breath hitching in your throat. yeji watched your interaction from her seat, wishing she could be closer to hear it.

“who-” he turned around “y/n- everything good?”

“yeah.” you answered shortly, playing with your earrings. you weren’t particularly bad at small talk, but this time your mind went blank the moment he started facing you. you couldn’t even meet his eyes, which were staring back directly at you.

“actually- i’ve been thinking about it and, you know those surfing lessons you talked about? i kinda want to give that a shot” you trailed down, your voice becoming higher in pitch towards the end of your sentence.

yeonjun’s face instantly lit up, his smile reaching his eyes “really? when do you want to start then?”

“well, when is your schedule free?” you scratched your neck “i’ve heard you’re pretty busy, i wouldn’t want to be a burden.”

“don’t worry about it, i was the one who asked after all.” he chuckled “i can give you a text later on after checking.” you tilted your head in confusion

“but you don’t have my phone nu-“

oh. he was smooth.

“you got me.” he said sheepishly “i was hoping to get your phone number” there was a sharp constrast to the way he was behaving before. the cool and flirty persona he had been putting on was starting to crumble “if that’s okay with you as well i mean-“

“yeah i’m okay with that” you reassured him “maybe i wanted yours too” you mumbled, heart almost giving out after getting those words out. he laughed again, handing you his phone. you quickly typed your phone number in, saving the contact as “y/n :)”, then you handed him yours.

“i’ll make sure to let you know by tonight”

“great, i’ll be waiting then” you replied playfully, making your way back to the bar.

yeji kept on pressuring you to spill all the details, but you brushed her off, wanting to save the conversation in private. you didn’t even get a chance to breathe properly once you returned home. after locking the door, yeji dragged you by the arm and sat you down on the couch along with her, forcing you to let it all out.

“see? that wasn’t so bad, was it? i’m sure you’re gonna thank me later-“ yeji’s voice was interrupted by a notification coming from your phone. you sat there, frozen, a million thoughts rushing through your mind.

“are you gonna answer that?”

“i- i guess i should” you took your phone, a river bubbling through your veins and flushing your face at the sight of the new message:

(yeonjun<3)

[10:30 pm]: hi cutie ;) are you free tomorrow at 11 am for our first surfing lesson?

“what are you smiling at?”

“nothing” you giggled, hiding the screen of your phone with your hands.

“you’re definitely not giggling because of nothing- let me see.” yeji got on top of you, trying to pry the phone away from your hands. however, her attempt was unsuccessful, as your grip was way too strong.

“you’re leaving me with no choice” she whispered mischievously. you felt your whole life flash before your eyes. you had one great weakness- and yeji knew that. you couldn’t even stand 3 seconds of tickling, so she was going to use it against you. her fingers inched closer to your stomach and attacked you quickly.

“YEJI- stop please-“ you tried to shout between giggles “i surrender- i promise.” she stopped for a brief moment “you promise?” “yeah- now get off me and i’ll give you my phone.” she squinted her eyes, going back to her place on the couch reluctantly. her eyes widened in disbelief when you revealed the new message.

“no fucking way- after two days?? y/n. this guy’s definitely into you”

“i don’t want to jump to conclusions- what if that’s his way of being friendly?” you argued back, realising how foolish your reason sounded only after you finished your sentence.

“y/n- darling, there’s no way a guy who just wants to become friends would save his name with a heart symbol.” she shook you by the shoulders “he. is. into. you.”

“what if-“ you were about to argue again, but the sound of another notification made you stop midway through your sentence. you unlocked your phone, completely unprepared. you and yeji glanced at the screen, then looked back at each other in disbelief, struggling to contain the urge to scream your lungs out.

(unknown number)

[10:50 pm]: hi, y/n! this is beomgyu :)

[10:51 pm]: i got your phone number from yeonjun, hope you don’t mind ;)

───⋆☆─────────────

from the moment you woke up you could feel your heart hammering in your chest. it was hard to tell whether it was from excitement or anxiety. maybe it was a mix of both. still, you were proud of yourself for choosing to do something out of your comfort zone for once. yeji was probably even more excited than you were. she wasn’t a morning person, but she insisted on coming along to watch your lesson and to ‘check your chemistry’.

“which swimsuit should i take? i packed two with me.” you held up a black one-piece swimsuit and a pale blue two-piece one for yeji to see.

“get the two-piece. you look hotter in it.” she playfully winked at you. you reluctantly looked at the swimsuit she chose, cursing yourself in your head for asking. you opened your mouth to voice out your worries, but yeji got up from the bed and put a finger over your mouth “shush, i don’t want to hear any complaints. just trust me on this one- okay?” you silently put the black one back in the drawer and went to the bathroom to get changed, deciding to go with yeji’s pick. “yeonjun’s heart is gonna melt once he sees you.”

you tried to ignore her “let’s go, i don’t want to be late.”

“can’t leave yeonjun hanging?” yeji joked, faking a pout. you lightly slap her arm. “i’m gonna leave without you if you’re not ready.”

“you wouldn’t do that to me- you love me.”

“i sure do...” you tilted your head back, a laugh escaping your lips.

yeonjun was waiting for you at the exact same spot you watched him teach yesterday, nobody else around him this time. for some reason, the thought of being completely alone with him didn’t cross your mind. you could feel a rush of adrenaline flowing through your body, but it was way too late to back down now.

“ready for-“ yeonjun’s words stopped abruptly as soon as he looked at you. he seemed distressed, eyes rapidly going over between you and the warm sand beneath his feet, the tips of his ears flaming red. was this what yeji meant by his heart melting? he cleared his throat before speaking again “ready for our first lesson?”

“i’m a bit nervous” you admitted “but overall excited i think” you didn’t sound very sure of yourself.

“you’ll be fine with me” he flashed you a gentle smile.

yeonjun clasped his hands together “we’ll go over the basics first”

“you need to catch waves in order to start surfing, and how do you do that? you paddle.” yeonjun put down a surfing board onto the sand. “to paddle, you need to lie and balance on your surfboard. let me demonstrate it for you” yeonjun laid his body on the board, his back now facing you.

“when you do this, make sure that the angle of the board’s nose doesn’t change. it should remain the same as when you weren’t on top of the board, not higher, not lower.”

“got it.”

“you shouldn’t paddle with both arms simultaneously, as this won’t help you maintain a constant speed. alternate between both arms at a steady pace”

you were in awe at yeonjun’s professional aura, he explained things calmy, while still maintaining a firm voice.

“let’s get this board into the water so you can give that a try.”

you looked at yeonjun with wide eyes, your nerves had just started to settle down a bit and now they were going off like fireworks again.

he laughed lightly “no need to worry, i’ll be right beside you.” yeonjun pushed the board into the sea, not too far away from the shore so that the water level wouldn’t be too high. he held on to it so that you could get lie down with ease. “when paddling keep your chin up so that you can look around.”

you tried to do just as he said, mimicking his movements from earlier. you didn’t want to know how goofy you looked from another person’s point of view.

“just like that” yeonjun whispered “see? you’re a natural! i think we can move on to the next step- getting up. we won’t be riding any waves today, we need to make sure you get this technique right”

you turned your head towards his direction, a petrified look on your face.

“come on, i’ll help you” yeonjun held out his hand for you to take, moving the other on your waist to help you maintain your balance as you moved up with shaky feet. his touch made you feel flustered and you lost your focus, accidentally slipping on the board. luckily, yeonjun was there to catch you before you could face-plant into the water.

“easy does it. don’t worry, it’s tricky to get it right on the first try” he held you again, his grip on your hand tighter than the first time. you held your breath as you made your second attempt, this time ending successful.

“no way- i did it” you exclaimed.

yeji’s and beomgyu’s cheers could be heard all the way from the bar, making you burst into laughter. your cheeks turned rosy as you noticed your hand still holding yeonjun’s.

“you’re doing amazing, cutie” your face felt even hotter at the sound of the nickname.

“let’s try that a few more times”

and so you did. again, and again, and again. yeonjun didn’t let you go until you had at least 3 successful attempts in a row. the both of you settled down on a sunbed, munching on some ice cream as a reward for your success.

“do you like it here so far?” yeonjun asked.

“we haven’t had the chance to do much yet but- i think i do. the beach alone is enough for me to enjoy my time here.” you took a bite of the ice cream cone “by the way- i was wondering, how come you started surfing?”

“i fell in love with the beach after my uncle taught me how to surf.” you looked up to meet his eyes. you could see the way they lit up as he explained everything further. “the gentle breeze, the adrenaline, the warm sun touching my skin- i felt like i couldn’t get enough of it.” he tilted his head back and stretched out his arms “i tried to go back to the city, but i couldn’t resist being away from all of this, so now- i get to do exactly what i love.” he smiled.

you stared at the ice cream in your hand, watching it melt from the heat. his words tugged at your heart; in a way, you were feeling jealous of how content he seemed to be with his life.

“sounds really nice” you smiled back, biting your lips. you could almost feel your stomach turning, your previous worries were coming on at lightning speed. the sound of yeonjun’s voice out of it.

“i’m glad you took up on my offer, it’s nice to share something i enjoy with a lovely person like you.” your worries dissipated, being replaced by butterflies in your stomach instead.

───⋆☆─────────────

you continued your lessons with yeonjun up until the middle of the summer. it was clear by now that you were definitely not a surfing prodigy, but you didn’t want to stop. you didn’t know when it would be the next time you got to do something like this. besides, having yeonjun’s attention all on you was nice. or at least, until little kids started stealing him away from you.

“teacher yeonjun- can you help me find my rubber duck? i lost it in the water.” the kid sobbed, tugging on yeonjun’s swimming shorts. yeonjun looked at the kid then at you, conflicted.

“go on-“ you reassured him with a smile “i got it.”

“i’ll be quick.” yeonjun grabbed the kids hand, sprinting towards the area of the “lost duck”.

you lifted your body on the surfing board, closing your eyes for a brief moment and taking a deep breath of the cool beach air. you were all alone now. this was your chance to get away from your thoughts, your worries; to simply shift your focus on all your other senses. somehow, you were feeling nostalgic- nostalgic for a moment that hasn’t even fully passed yet. if only it was possible to keep those feelings locked away, so you could revisit them whenever you wanted to.

yet, your happiness was cut short. you let your guard down too much, and were completely unaware of the danger right in front of you. beomgyu’s shout snapped you out of it. you opened your eyes, only to see an enormous wave centimeters away from you. you froze, not knowing what to do. a million thoughts ran through your mind; before you could even make a decision, the wave crashed into you, sending your body flying down into the water, your head hitting the surfing board in the process. the glass that beomgyu was holding slipped from his hand, shattering to the ground. he swiftly jumped over the counter, then took his shirt off, his eyes frantically searching around the water for you. instead, he saw yeonjun diving in the water, already 2 steps ahead from him. it was childish to race with yeonjun to save you. beomgyu ran back to the bar, hands shaking as he searched for a first med kit and a towel.

you couldn’t keep your eyes open as the salty water gave you a burning sensation almost instantly. you flailed your arms around, in an attempt to save yourself, but the more you moved, the more it felt like you were sinking down. you were almost ready to stop when you felt a pair of arms wrapping around your waist, bringing you back up towards the surface.

“i got you, don’t worry” yeonjun breathed out, hooking one of his arms under your legs and holding your shoulders with the other. your hands hanged loosely around his neck, desperately coughing up the water that entered your system.

“try to stand on your side if you can”

yeonjun laid you down on the nearest sunbed, and you did just as he said, bringing your knees to your chest as your coughing fit continued. “don’t panic, just let it all out” he said softly as he rubbed his hands down your back to soothe you.

yeonjun called out yeji’s name, gesturing for the others to remain in their place for now, as a group of people surrounding you could have been overwhelming. still, beomgyu chose to trail down behind yeji as she walked towards you. he covered you with the towel he found and left a cold bottle of water on the ground next to you before going up to yeonjun.

“can we talk for a sec?” he said, grabbing yeonjun’s arm to bring him further down the beach, without waiting for an answer from him.

“hey- how are you feeling now?” yeji crouched down, holding your hand and gently rubbing her thumb against it.

“better, i think” you answered, trying to put on a smile for her, even though you were still shaken up from what happened earlier.

“where did the others go? i didn’t even get to thank yeonjun-” you raised your body a little bit, looking around the beach.

“don’t even worry about that right now.” yeji was quick to push your shoulders back down. yeji knew why beomgyu was so quick to take yeonjun away. she knew how angry he was with him for leaving you alone so carelessly, and she knew how he was also angry with himself for not acting faster earlier. witnessing them arguing wouldn’t have done you any good. “just rest a little bit more so we can go back home. i’m sure you’ll have another opportunity to thank him soon.”

you looked down. you felt guilty for what happened, even though what happened was outside of your control. you let out a groan and brought a hand to your head, a pounding ache taking over.

“does it hurt?“ yeji asked. you removed your head from its place, only to see a small trail of blood dripping down your fingers.

“everything okay?” you heard yeonjun shout, jogging towards you. he was out of breath, bringing his hands to rest on his knees, cheeks flushed a deep shade of red; it seemed like he ran all the way back. beomgyu, however, was nowhere in sight. “let me see” his eyebrows furrowed as he came closer. he moved your hair behind your ear to inspect your injury. “it’s nothing serious. it’s just a surface level wound, but we need to clean it up.”

“here, beomgyu gave this to me earlier” yeonjun took the med kit from yeji and placed it beside you on the sunbed.

“please tell me if it hurts”

you nodded and he grabbed your chin, then started to gently dab your head with a wet cloth. your eyes shily glanced over at his face. you didn’t realise until then just how close he was sitting next to you. his eyes were only focused on your wound and he was biting his lips in concentration. his hands were shaking a little bit, too afraid to cause you any type of pain. unknowingly, you were holding your breath, heart beating out of control. you couldn’t understand why it was that your body was reacting this way, even in a situation like this, how he still had you wrapped around his finger, melting under his feathery touches.

“this should make it heal faster” yeonjun said, putting some ointment on the wound before covering it with a bandaid. “-and this too” he whispered, leaving a small kiss on that same spot. “i’m so sorry y/n. you are still a beginner and i shouldn’t have left you all alone like that, it was stupid-“ you stopped his rambling by pulling him in for a hug. “hey- don’t blame yourself so harshly. what happened was outside of your control. if you were there maybe you would have gotten injured too.” you hugged him tighter “i wouldn’t have wanted to see you hurt either.”

“you’re right...” yeonjun sighed, combing his fingers through your hair “still- i’ll find a way to make it up to you, i promise.”

“hey- i know you’re having a sweet moment and all, but it’s getting late and we should really get going” yeji interrupted. you slowly moved away from yeonjun, whispering a ‘thank you’ against his ear before finally letting go and getting up.

once at home, you hopped into the shower to wash off the salt off your body. you changed into more comfortable clothes, slumping into your bed, your body melting into the mattress. you were mindlessly scrolling through social media, your eyes feeling heavier with each minute that passed. you were on the point of dozing off when you saw a notification appear on your screen.

(gyu :) )

[beomgyu, 9:17 pm] y/n! how are you feeling now? :(

[y/n, 9:17 pm] definitely better now, especially because of your help :)

[beomgyu, 9:17 pm] i’m glad

[beomgyu, 9:18 pm] are you busy rn?

[y/n, 9:18 pm] no, why?

[beomgyu, 9:18 pm] look outside the window ;)

confused, you got up from the bed and peeked through the window blinds, spotting a smiling beomgyu waving his hand at you from the sidewalk. you couldn’t help but return his smile as you looked at him, already in his pyjamas with a jacket over his shirt and a small basket in his hand. you opened the window and shouted “wait- i’ll be down in a sec.” stumbling as you rushed to climb down the stairs and put on your shoes. you quickly ran your fingers through your hair and took a deep breath to regain your composure. you were taken aback when you saw beomgyu right in front of you, hand raised up to knock on the door just as you opened it.

“hi.” he spoke softly.

“hi-” you breathed out “want to come in?”

“ah-“ he cleared his throat, his eyes meeting the floor instead of your face “i just wanted to bring you this.” he brought the hand holding the basket in front of you, its contents hidden away with the help of a pink wrapping paper. you pushed it to the side, careful so as not to rip it too much. your eyes widened once you discover small boxes with fresh assorted fruits like strawberries, cherries, grapes...and a tiny bear plush placed in the middle of everything.

“thought these might cheer you up a bit. i snuck those away from the bar once my shift ended. don’t tell on me though, soobin might kick my ass if he finds out”

“beomgyu-“ you stammered “thank you, but you didn’t have to-” you were pushing the basket back towards him, overwhelmed by his sweet gestures. he caught your wrists with his hands, moving them towards your chest.

“but i did have to” he leaned down, bringing his face to the same level as your own “if i saw you smile, then that means it was worth it, even if i do get in trouble” his words rolled off his tongue slowly, with a low rasp. you noticed the way beomgyu’s eyes moved away from yours to glance at your lips, then going back to the floor, stopping for a second, hesitating, before deciding to quickly steal away a kiss from your cheek.

“go back inside now, you should get some rest.”

without even realising it, you brought a hand up to your face, touching the same spot he just caressed with his lips. he tilted his head, chuckling after seeing your flustered expression. “good night, y/n” he put his hands in his pockets, turning his back to walk towards the alleyway.

what you weren’t aware of though, was just how loudly beomgyu’s heart was beating against his chest.

───⋆☆─────────────

the end of august, also known as the start of the party season at the beach. with tourists ending their trips and leaving soon, as well as with the weather on the cusp of changing, the workers at the beach started preparing for their annual series of events (which was actually more of an excuse to make people purchase more alcohol)

“we’re doing what tonight?” you asked yeji, resisting the urge to throw the pillow in your lap at her.

“listen- i know you’re finding out about this late, but-“

“but?” you pressed your lips together, lifting an eyebrow.

“but you would have declined the invitation right away-“ yeji sighed “now it’s too late to tell them that we’re not going. remember our promise? to take up on new opportunities?”

you remained silent, crossing your arms and glaring at yeji.

“come on, it’s the first party. if you don’t like it then i won’t pressure you to go to the rest. let’s just try it and see how it goes” yeji got on her knees, holding your hand and looking at you with pleading eyes.

“fine.” you gave in, yeji’s words managed to persuade you yet again. she squealed, capturing you in a tight hug. she wasted no time to drag you into her room and help you get ready. her face was basically radiating as she showed you all the makeup and outfit choices, there was just no way you could refuse her anymore. you just let her do her thing, putting all your trust into her tastes.

the more you walked towards the beach, the louder the music was becoming. you were tempted to do a full 180 and make a run for it, but your conscience didn’t allow you. plus, you truly believed that yeji would simply take her heels off to go after you and drag you back. you felt out of place in the big crowd of people, overwhelmed by the loud beats combining with people shouting in a poor attempt to communicate with each other. you were busy frantically scanning the area for a familiar figure, but you somehow missed yeonjun coming right in your direction. you were taken aback when you noticed him standing in front of you.

“hi, cutie. glad to see you here” yeonjun greeted you.

“hi-“ your eyes trailed down over his body. his white button-up shirt wasn’t closed all the way, giving you a peek at his exposed chest and the delicate silver necklace sitting on top of it. you bit your lip trying to shift your focus from the pretty man in front of you back to the conversation. he winked at you when you tried to make eye contact with him again. shit. your cheeks flushed a deep shade of red; he definitely noticed you staring at him. you quickly turned around and took a shot from the drinks table close to you. you grimaced as the alcohol sent a dash of fire down your throat, yet you still extended your hand for more.

yeji grabbed your arm “hey- hey, take it easy. we only just arrived.”

“and i’ve already embarrassed myself” you whispered back, covering your face with your hands.

“i’m sure whatever you did isn’t that bad. you’re gonna embarrass yourself more if you get wasted within the first hour anyway.”

you pressed your lips together. she was right- you just didn’t want to admit it out loud. “come on, i want to check out the dessert table. i heard soobin did a pretty good job with that” yeji said, grabbing your wrist and dragging you along with her.

yeji tested out almost every single dessert at the party. each time she took a bite of something new, she insisted that you tried it too because “this one was really the best”. you found it amusing but in some way, she was right, soobin really outdid himself this time. the cupcakes in particular were your favorite. the cake was so soft and moist, and the frosting was soft like velvet, immediately melting down on your tongue. they were seriously addicting. you were about to dive into another vanilla cupcake when you felt a tap on your shoulder. it was yeonjun who came up to you again.

“y/n- join me for a dance?”

your eyes glanced back at yeji, then at the cupcake in your hand. you were very tempted to say yes, but you didn’t want to leave her alone either. the idea of abandoning your cupcake didn’t sound that good either.

“go ahead” yeji said, snatching the cupcake you were holding. “i was about to go to hueningkai anyway- i wanted to have a look at his playlist. have fun you two” she sent a wink your way before quickly leaving, not even sparing you a chance to argue.

“shall we?” yeonjun stretched out his hand for you to take, which you nervously took. he led you to the middle of the dance floor, making you internally panic. having not gone to many parties in your lifetime, you weren’t confident in showing off your dance moves, especially right in front of yeonjun.

yeonjun must have sensed your worries, dipping down to whisper in your ear, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. “just focus on me- don’t mind everyone else.” you were still holding his hand, so he took this chance to lift his arm up and playfully spin you around. you couldn’t help but giggle, slowly starting to ease up. you tried to ignore everyone else invading your vision, focusing on him and only him as you swayed your body along the rhythm of the music. you couldn’t help yourself but grab two more shots, one for you and one for yeonjun, when you saw one of the baristas coming down your way with a silver platter full of alcoholic drinks. ‘it’s for a little confidence boost’ you told yourself. for tonight, you were finally allowing yourself to be free from any worries, and to simply enjoy the moment.

you weren’t aware of how much time had passed since you stepped foot on the dance floor, and you were very tempted to take a break and let your legs rest for a while. but it seemed like the dj wasn’t going to let that happen anytime soon. the up-beat music that had been playing for the past hour was suddenly changed to a slow, jazzy song. you looked up at yeonjun with wide eyes, and he bit his lips, looking as surprised as you did. yet, he didn’t pull away. his hands dropped down from their position on your shoulders, trailing down your arms and then moving to your waist, leaving hot trails everywhere he touched your body. your body unconsciously moved closer to his, a bright red blush adoring your cheeks. your mind couldn’t focus on anything else but his hands on you. the sound of the music combining with your loud heartbeat made you feel light-headed.

“i want to kiss you” he whispered, resting his forehead on yours, his grip on your waist tightening “but if i do then i might not be able to contain myself.” he breathed out. your hand moved up to the nape of his neck, about to give in to the sweet temptation, when all of a sudden taehyun lightly tugged yeonjun by the collar of his shirt, creating distance between the two of you.

“loverboy, go check up on soobin, he’s having trouble setting up the fog machine”

“right now?”

“yes, now. come on” taehyun grabbed yeonjun, not letting him argue. ‘strange’ you remembered that the fog machine was already on when you arrived.

yeji and beomgyu appeared by your side just a few seconds later “where’s yeonjun?”

“ah- soobin was searching for him. guess i was kind of abandonded” you tried to laugh it off “can we go somewhere quieter?” the music is starting to mess with my brain.

“i’ll grab some drinks and i’ll meet you near the shore, there’s some log benches there.”

you nodded, holding onto yeji’s sleeve so as not to lose her. you felt like you could finally breathe again once you stepped foot on the sand. you couldn’t lie, parties did seem fun, but those where you’re almost completely surrounded by strangers? not so much. you held on until most people left, enjoying yeji’s and beomgyu’s company, cracking silly jokes as you kept on drinking. it was only after midnight when the rest of the boys joined you, with a few of the other people lingering around.

“anybody up for a few rounds of truth or dare?” yeji shouted.

“i’m in” beomgyu replied, raising his hand.

“i guess i’m in too” you sighed. truth or dare wasn’t really your cup of tea, but you didn’t want to ruin the other’s mood.

“everybody gather around the fire then” yeonjun said “and remember- no buts, no maybes” he snickered.

you noticed how beomgyu looked at you and opened his mouth, then closed it back again after yeonjun said down next to him. his body seemed to slump down after that; you wondered whether it was you who he wanted to sit close to.

“i’ll be the one to get this started” yeonjun stated, looking at every person over the hot flames of the fire, only for his eyes to land back on the person to his right. “beomgyu, truth or dare?”

beomgyu paused for a moment, then answered simply “truth.”

“you’re starting off easy?” he asked, the words rolling off his tongue with a playful, yet mischievous tone “well then- beomgyu, do you have a crush?”

“yes.” he answered shortly. beomgyu was sitting right across from you, and you could notice his body slowly tensing up as his arms hugged his waist tighter.

“and is your crush by any chance here with us?” yeonjun probed on further.

“that’s 2 questions” beomgyu frowned, looking at him.

“you didn’t let me finish.” yeonjun raised his hands defensively.

“yes- they are.” he answered then took a sip of his beer. however, what you failed to notice was him sneaking a glance in your direction as he said that.

everybody around you let out an “ooo” at beomgyu’s answer; people were giggling and nudging beomgyu, teasing him to reveal the name of the person. for some reason, the fact that he had a crush was tugging at your heartstrings. you were secretly hoping that the person he was talking about was you, but you weren’t ready to admit that to yourself.

“my turn now-“ beomgyu took another sip, his eyes scanned the room, then stopped on your figure. “y/n, truth or dare?”

you pondered for a moment. “truth.” you didn’t want to be the first one to try a dare, even if it was from beomgyu. he smiled “have you ever been in a relationship?” he asked, eyes sparkling from the light of the fire.

“no, actually.” you sighed “i was always too busy stressing over school- and look where that got me” you looked down and chuckled drily.

beomgyu nodded, seemingly getting a bit lost in thought. he wanted to continue, to talk to you more, but he restrained himself from doing so. he knew that this wasn’t the right moment to discuss your private life, not with everyone else around.

“let’s see- who should be the next victim?” you clicked your tongue “soobin- what do you prefer?”

───⋆☆─────────────

two hours of truth or dare later, soobin’s last shot was the one that tipped him off, and yeonjun offered to guide him back home before he had the chance to throw up on the beach. a few people stated that they were going to the bathroom, but in fact never returned; you didn’t want to know why. yeji was too tired to stay there any longer, so she left you behind. meaning, it was only you and beomgyu left on the now quiet beach. the fire was dying down, and beomgyu scooted closer to you, offering to share a blanket.

“how does one more round sound?” he asked you.

“i wouldn’t mind that” you laughed, feeling a bit nervous all of a sudden.

“truth or dare?” beomgyu whispered.

“dare.”

“dare, huh...?” he muttered “i dare you to dive into the water.” beomgyu smirked, playfully tilting his head to the side.

you were taken aback by his words, but your stubbornness didn’t allow you to back down.“okay.” you said, looking into his eyes. “turn around then. i don’t want my dress to get wet.”beomgyu’s eyes widened, clearly not expecting you to accept his dare. still, he did just like you asked.

you slid your dress off, then carefully placed it on one of the seats. you inhaled air deeply into your lungs as you approached the water, then jumped straight in, trying to get this over with as quickly as possible.

“truth or dare?” you shouted.

“dare.” beomgyu shouted back.

“i dare you to join me.”

beomgyu wasted no time taking off his shirt then quickly diving into the water, splashing you in the process. you immediately returned the favour when he got back up to the surface.

“hey- you’re gonna pay for that” he jokingly threatened you.

“make me.”

you both attacked each other with water, only the sound of your laughter filling up the quietness of the now peaceful night. “okay- i surrender.” beomgyu shouted again, catching your wrists with his hands to finally make you stop. he got closer to you, your laughter dying down as his close proximity made you feel nervous.

“you look so beautiful in the moonlight” he said as he hooked his finger around yours, guiding you around in the water. and you followed him mindlessly, as if you as if he’s got you right under his spell. his hands detached themselves from your own, moving to your waist. and you were so close to him, nose to nose, his breath combining his yours, his eyelashes tickling your lids- and yet, you still couldn’t allow yourself. you couldn’t allow yourself to be victim of your foolish desires.

you looked over your shoulder, worried that someone might have come back and noticed what was happening. what if someone saw you two? saw the two of you fooling around in the blue waves of the sea, what if someone saw his fingers trailing your back or how your own nested at his nape? your brain kept thinking of all the possible ways you might get in trouble, fighting to remain in power as his hot breath gathered itself at your neck, distracting yourself from any rational thoughts.

“y/n! are you still here?” you suddenly heard a voice shouting, which you recognised was yeji’s.

“yeah-“ you shouted back “don’t worry, i’ll be back soon no need to wait for me”

“send me a text when you leave!” she shouted again before walking away.

you looked at beomgyu with apologetic eyes.

“guess i can’t have you all for myself tonight.” he looked at you with a soft smile, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear “yeji’s stealing you away from me again.” he laughed.

“i’m sorry...” you whispered, lowering your head.

"there's no need to apologise", he said, a beat of heart and a pause following his words, "it's getting late anyway, you should rest, especially after such a night." the wind picked up your sigh before it could reach him, before it could whisper to him to come closer again, to take a step towards you, warm hands to envelop your waist and soft hair locks to tickle your skin again. you took a step back. "what an eventful night" you said under your breath. "what an eventful night", he picks up your words just as they roll off your tongue, giving you a smile. the air between you kept getting thicker and thicker, unspoken words and wishes weighing the both of you further into the soft shore. “wait just a second- i’ll be right back.” he rushed to get out of the water and sprinted to the bar. as he was coming back you could see him holding a small towel, which he handed to you.

“here, it’s nothing much, but i thought it might help you dry off- at least a little bit” he said rubbing the nape of his neck.

“it’s great” you smiled “thank you, beomgyu.”

he was also holding something behind his back, which he only revealed after you were done using the towel and putting your dress back on.

“have this too...” he looked away, the tips of his ears turning a pretty shade of pink. “i don’t want you to feel cold” he was holding out his white button up shirt for you to wear. you could feel your body reacting the same way as you thanked him and slided your arms into the sleeves. the faint scent of his cologne lingering on the soft material setting your heart on fire.

the walk back home was quiet, spent with the both of you sneaking a few shy glances at each other, his hand brushing against your ever so often, itching to hold yours again. for the first time during your stay you were disappointed that your house was so close to the beach, because it meant that you and beomgyu had to part ways so quickly.

“oh! your shirt- i almost forgot. let me take it off-“ 

his hands reacted fast, stopping you before you could do that “no- keep it, please. it looks good on you”

“o-oh. thank you” you stuttered. the both of you hesitated to part ways once again, too enticed by each other’s presence.

───⋆☆─────────────

beomgyu's ending | yeonjun's ending

taglist: @huekalover3000 @maybabe00 @sunoooism

[thevillainswhore]

Hello, my lovelies! Welcome to my masterlist! I’m so happy to have you here. I hope you enjoy your time and I encourage any questions or requests. Happy reading, love Mollie 🤍

Fic Key:

☁️ fluff, 🔥 smut, 💔 angst, 🖤 dark

Please take care to read all warnings on my fics — they have been labelled for a reason. I am not responsible for your media consumption.

Bucky Barnes

Oneshots:

Loverboy ☁️

Bucky, a lovesick, pining super soldier, vows to keep his feelings for you a secret — no matter how obvious his crush may seem. Those plans are ruined between a meddling Sam, an embarrassing fall, and a visit to the medbay with you. (4.3k)

Revenge Sweeter Than Honey 🔥

When Bucky’s professor unfairly grades his college assignment, ruining his perfect GPA, he finds a way to get revenge — And doesn’t his sweet little wife look delicious? (9.2k)

A Forbidden Invitation 🔥

You think a one night stand from the summer, the best fuck of your life, is a done deal — a single, heated encounter that now lives vividly in your memories. But you learn that your actions have consequences when you befriend a new student, starting in the new term, and she invites you over to meet her Dad. (11.5k)

You Look Good On Camera, Baby 🔥

Bucky’s not letting you leave the photobooth, not until he’s had his way with you. (2.8k)

The Ties That Bind Us 🔥

Even though Bucky is your ex-husband, you still have to see him often because of your shared son. But the heated tension, the spark that is still very much alive after your divorce, finally reaches its peak when you come home from your date. (5.7k words)

Read Between The Lines ☁️

There shouldn’t have been anything unusual about your routine visit to the local bookstore. Your life was simple and mundane, even if you were a daydreamer at heart. But you were pleasantly surprised when this time you met a handsome stranger between the shelves. (6.6k words)

Spoiled And Stuffed 🔥

Bucky surprises you with a gift on your birthday. (2.6k words)

Tension 🔥

You’re devastated when your usual massage therapist becomes unavailable at the last minute, but an unexpected trainee is more than happy to handle you. (4.2k words)

Perverse Desires 🔥

Assigned an undercover mission, you’re partnered up with the bane of your existence, Bucky, to pay a visit to a sex club. What could go wrong? (4k words)

Anywhere Away With You ☁️🔥💔

Old ghosts from your past threaten to disturb the peace you’ve made with your new life. Will temptation steer you away? (11k words)

Series:

The Love In The Woods Collection ☁️🔥

After years apart, Bucky, a small town lumberjack, and Dolly, his best girl, find their way back to each other as adults.

A series of oneshots, drabbles and snippets following the course of two old school friends and their blossoming relationship.

The New Tricks Collection ☁️🔥

An alternate universe starring two college students; Bucky, the star football player and Buttercup, his best friend’s little sister. Follow their main journey together as they learn their mutual pining isn’t one sided after all through an array of firsts. (30k)

Can’t Take My Eyes Off You 🖤🔥

Bucky, the IT and technology expert of your office, has been secretly obsessed since the moment he set his sights on sensitive, naive, little you. But, your only fault is your repetitive ability to get your heartbroken by fuck boys. So, naturally, he has to do whatever it takes to make you see he’s perfect for you… Right?

Steve Kemp

Oneshots:

A Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing 🖤

It was an art - one that took many years and many sacrifices to perfect, and Steve had managed to become a master at it. There was just one thing he would not fully commit to sacrificing, at least not the important parts that kept life essence flowing: you. (2.6k words)

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

I'm just curious since I absolutely adore all your trans Ed fics, what made you read Ed as being trans? Is it more of a personal headcanon since we tend to see ourselves in fictional characters, or did you notice some tiny detail on the show that made you think so?

Oh my friend, I'm so glad you ask.

The cool thing about reading Ed as trans, I think, is that you do not even have to squint to do it. Literally you need to change exactly nothing, and this read suddenly adds a lot of nuance and additional juicy layers to his story and his journey with masculinity.

Ed's whole deal with masculinity, precisely exactly all of it, makes him feel so much like a trans guy who never outgrew the "I need to be hypermasculine so I pass" phase, fitting that read so precisely that given there are trans writers on the OFMD team I would be absolutely SHOCKED if at least some of it wasn't intentional. Every single trans guy I know has been through a version of this, where you come out and you know you're a man but you need everyone else to know, too, and so you lean very hard into masculinity to make damn sure you pass. And not just pass, but pass perfectly. Ed is forcing himself into such a heavy ideal of masculinity that it feels artificial; he needs to make sure everyone sees him as this perfect ideal of a masculine man that he cannot possibly live up to because no one could.

Certainly, parts of Ed's hyper-masculine presentation seem to be things that genuinely make him happy and bring him joy. That's important. Ed's happy to be a man, the problem is that he's trying to force himself into such a narrow idea of masculinity that it's stifling him. It's preventing him from enjoying more ""feminine"" things that he genuinely loves, because he's terrified of being seen as less of a man for it, and people like Izzy reinforce the idea that if Ed fucks up in his performance of masculinity, he's going to be in danger because of that. It's very real, and the added juiciness from reading Ed as trans adds so much to the great story that's already there, I think. There's this additional element of Ed knowing he's a man but needing to make sure everyone else could never doubt it, there's an additional perceived danger to slipping up, there's a sort of jealous admiration for guys like Stede who seem, at least on the surface, so much more comfortable with a different type of masculinity that Ed wishes he could have more of.

And on top of that, there's just a lot of other little additional things, like:

Ed making his beard his whole brand, it just screams beard dysphoria and "no one could ever claim I'm not a man because the beard is my whole THING."

Something about his relationship with his name, and how hard he has to try to get people like Izzy to call him by his name in front of others

The way Ed is dehumanized when he dares to step outside a very safe, masculine gender presentation - it's why Izzy saying "this thing you've become" when Ed is wearing a robe and painted nails hits so hard for me, I think

Okay. okay. listen. You know the scene where Ed makes CJ whip him in the balls. Listen. Ed baby. It just SCREAMS "people here don't know I'm trans and I don't know how much getting hit in the balls should ACTUALLY hurt so I'm gonna lay it on really really thick just to be safe"

There's a lot to be said about Ed and his clothing in a lot of directions, but I'm gonna leave it at how he's really figured out a safe set of clothing that works for him and consistently allows him to be read as this super masculine guy, and he's scared to step away from that. Also, I really like imagining the full-fingered gloves at the end of s1 as a way to cover up the nail polish on his fingernails until it wears off.

I think it's very sweet that Ed tends to be very private when talking about his personal and sex life with others, but a very, very easy explanation for how that got started is he just doesn't want to go around sharing personal details about his body with people!

Yeah. A trans read of Ed is so shockingly easy, fits so well, and adds so much to his journey, frankly I'm amazed it's not more common.

[vidals-harkness]

i’ll come back to you (lilia calderu)

summary: lilia meets agatha, and has to convinve you--her inexhaustible 'stray' baby witch--to allow her, before she embarks on a journey to the witch's road.

fic type: angst/fluff

pairings: lilia calderu x fem!child!reader (family)

warnings: reader invading agatha's personal space, some crying, so much soft lilia you might just weep <3

word count: 1.4k

Afternoons in the sleepy town of Westview were very often uneventful.

A gentle breeze carded through the curtains, ruffling the papers on the table, eviction notice included. The birds twittered faintly outside, along the cars which rolled past with a steady, quiet rumble. The windchimes jingled softly, caught in the wind's dance, the suncatchers on the windows casting tiny rainbows on the hardwood floors.

The kettle rattled as you kept an eye on it like Lilia had asked. Beside it, a pot stood full of dinner--contents of it long gone cold.

Through the quaint shop in the front, you heard a jingle. You reached up and switched off the kettle, following Lilia as she took her place through the beaded curtain.

The front room, or, the shop, was lit with candles, Lilia's magic keeping them from overheating the place. The scent of essential oils and incense was strong, but comforting. You took your place beside the nearby shelves, ready to help Lilia.

"Welcome to the curious," she said mystically as two people--a boy and a woman who had a strange energy around her. You didn't like it. Or rather it took you longer than usual to get used to it.

"Good day, madam," said the woman in a thick Southern accent. "Oh, thank you so much for seein' us,"

"You look strange," you admitted, coming up to her and touching her shawl.

"Y/n, sweet little, if you could please step away," Lilia smiled, noting the look of scorn and disgust on Agatha's face as she yanked the shawl out of your grasp. Trying to quell the situation, she added, "Don't mind my apprentice, she is young, a bit too curious sometimes,"

"That'll get her in a few spats," Agatha muttered, hissing at you like a cat, making you frown.

"Y/n, can you go out back, find me my special deck of tarot cards?” Lilia smiled, looking at you pointedly.

You nodded immediately, rushing out back to find the special deck--the one which felt like her, the one which made you feel safe.

"Miss L--huh?" You skipped back to the reading room, to find her nowhere to be seen.

You heard pained yelling from the kitchen and saw her--golden aura around her head like a halo, making you concerned. You hurried over, tugging at her sleeve for her attention.

"Miss Lilia," you whispered, poking her slightly. "It's just your mind, it's making up silly stuff,"

She took a deep breath, smiling down at you. "You're such a darling, sweet little," she chuckled.

"So you’re a bit of a kook. Every witch has their process," Agatha butted in. "You showed some real skill out there,"

"I didn’t read your fortune. I read your reputation," Lilia said, turning to her, placing a hand on your chest to push you behind her protectively. "Witches like you are the reason people think we poison apples, and steal children, and eat babies,"

"You eat babies, Miss Lilia?" You gasped, looking up at her, tiny brows furrowed with worry.

Her nose scrunched a bit as she smiled and shook her head. "No, sweet little, I don't,"

"I do," said Agatha. "Babies are delicious,"

"Ugh," Lilia groaned, going over to the stove to start with dinner.

You went over to Agatha where she sat on the sofa, poking at her inquisitively. "I've never met a baby-eating witch before..."

The chaos witch made a face at you. Despite her ease around children, you made her regret ever having an affinity towards them. "No, shoo, get away," she said, flicking your nose.

"Ow!" You exclaimed, pushing her shoulder.

"Y/n," Lilia warned without turning around. "What did I say about space?"

Agatha made that hissing noise at you again, which you countered with a blown raspberry before you stood next to Lilia again.

"How old are you? 410? 415?" Agatha asked, giving the older witch a once-over.

She turned sharply, offended. "How dare you?"

"Oh, I apologize," she chuckled in return. "You don’t look a day under 450,"

"Years old?" Teen asked, baffled.

"Mhm, Miss Lilia is very old," you nodded at him, which earned you a sharp but gentle smack upside the head.

"You get, what, maybe two suckers a day in here, and 20 bucks later, you’re sitting on a bed that’s also your wall," Agatha pointed out, her hand gesturing at the bed you and LIlia shared. Which, to be honest, was indeed a bed that was also a wall.

Agatha stood up, trying her hardest to convince her. "Don’t you miss the glory days?"

"When I was chased out of every village I passed through for accurately predicting tragedy?" Lilia asked, heading towards the kitchen. "No, I do not. Beat it, Harkness,"

"Yeah, beat it, Harkness," you said, crossing your arms to give Agatha a once-over.

"Tell your familiar to watch it," Agatha snapped.

"Absolutely not, you heard her," Lilia scoffed. "Beat it,"

"I’m gonna walk The Road," she finally admitted.

"The Road is a death wish,"

"I survived,"

"Yeah? Where’s your power now?"

A beat passed. She'd hit a nerve.

"Time to restock," she countered finally. "I need a Divination Witch,"

"Are you honestly asking me to coven up with the single most infamous witch on this continent?" Lilia laughed.

"Oh, please. Name a badder bitch in South America, or Europe," Teen said, crossing his arms.

Lilia gave him a look, scrutinising him. "Who is this child?"

Before he could reply, Agatha butted in. "My pet. This is my pet. Say hi, pet,"

Looking like he'd have rather swallowed nails, he sighed, "Hi,"

"Hi, pet!" You smiled, giving him a high-five.

"Y/n, sweet little, why don't you go play outside?" Lilia asked, patting your head gently, her gaze fixated on Agatha's.

You huffed, but nevertheless obeyed, grabbing a stick to play with as you went outside of the shop to play in the empty street outside.

Eventually, Agatha left with a disgruntled hiss at you, which you again countered with a raspberry, stomping back inside.

The candles were dimmed, and there came the sounds of Lilia singing soft Sicilian love songs in the kitchen. The pot bubbled, the refrigerator hummed, the lights buzzed and flickered.

"Sweet little, would you be a dear and set the table for me, please?" Lilia asked with a soft smile, turning to you, her song ceasing momentarily.

You nodded, grabbing the plate for yourself and placing it on the table. You sensed a variation in her energy, and asked, "Miss Lilia, why was Miss Harkness asking about the Witch's Road?"

Lilia paused, plating up the pasta she'd made. Her expression was thoughtful as she sat, handing you a fork.

"Well...Miss Agatha needs me for a sort of...plan that she has," she explained as you started to eat.

"Why does she need you?" You asked, swinging your legs a little as you ate happily.

Lilia's heart swelled--such an adorable thing you were, and she'd have to leave it behind. She didn't want to, but she had to.

"The process to begin the plan involves me, sweet little," she said, standing up as you did, too, plate in hand.

"You're super important then," you said, yawning a little. Afternoon nap time.

"Mhm," she hummed, scooping you up in her arms, grinning aas you squealed. "Super important,"

"I think that's so cool, Miss Lilia," you giggled softly.

"Problem is, sweet little, I'll be gone for some time," she whispered, laying down with you in bed, you flat on your b ack while she lay on her side, head propped up on her fist.

Your heart stopped. "G-Gone?" You whimpered, hand coming up to grip her shawl. "I don't want you gone,"

Her heart broke. "I know my little dove," she said, stroking your hair soothingly. "But I'll be back before you know it, I promise."

"No, no, no," you shook your head, tears streaming down your soft cheeks. "You're not gonna go!"

Lilia was quick to pull you close, your head on her chest as she soothed you by rubbing your back in gentle circles. "I have to go, sweet little, but don't fret, I'll come back..."

"But--but--" you began to protest, but her voice was firm.

"I will return to you," she said. "Have I ever broken my promise?"

You sniffled and shook your head. "N-No, Miss Lilia,"

"Have I ever lied?" She asked, making you face her, one hand wiping your tears.

You shook your head again. "N-No, Miss Lilia..."

"Precisely," she chuckled, kissing your forehead. "I'll come back to you, I promise,"

You nodded, eyes drooping as she rocked you to sleep, your worries washing away slowly as the tide of drowsiness dragged them away. One thought was what kept you content, one simple thought.

She'll come back to you.

hi my bao buns! jace here! i'm so sorry i've been mia for so long, but i'm back now! i would like to thank my anon bao buns as well as @lilia-caldareyou and @evildin0saur for motivating me to write again <3 thank you all!

love, jace

[whitedarkmoonflower]

Reunited 5

Pairing: modern!Sihtric x reader (female)

Authors note: So this is it. The journey has come to the end and I'm a bit sad but also very happy. This fic has a lot my own struggles within it and it has helped me to think over and let go of certain things that had accumulated. But before Sihtric and reader can look forward into the bright and shiny future they have to resolve some unsorted questions. I hope you'll enjoy it.

Warnings: it's emotionally tense with some angst and self reflection but still sweet

Summary: It was supposed to be a short two week trip that turned into five long years apart, just because your best friend couldn't keep her mouth shut. Will the reader and Sihtric manage to repair their broken relationship and find their way back to each other? Or will the reader decide to stay with the handsome and talented Sigtryggr?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Word Count: 7,8 K

Please remember that comments and reblogs are two things that make writers smile and keep us motivated.

You felt a surge of betrayal twist through you, an uncomfortable déjà vu that made your stomach drop. The whole scene was surreal, and your mind spun, trying to piece it all together. But before you could say a word, Sigtryggr's hand found yours under the blanket, his grip firm and panicked.

“This—this isn’t what it looks like, I swear,” he stammered, his face pale and clearly horrified by the scene unfolding. He scrambled to sit up, looking between you and the woman standing in the doorway. “This is… this is Stiorra, my ex-girlfriend.”

Stiorra crossed her arms, one eyebrow raised as she regarded him with a mix of annoyance and disbelief. “And in case there’s any doubt,” she interjected, “I’m the one who threw him out.” Her eyes flicked to you, and a slightly sheepish smile softened her expression. “Told him to never come back, actually.”

Sigtryggr winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not exactly a high point in our relationship,” he muttered. Then, as if desperate to regain some semblance of control, he gestured toward the kitchen. “Stiorra, why don’t you, uh… wait in the kitchen? Give us a moment?”

With a sigh that suggested she was equally exhausted by this awkward situation, Stiorra shrugged. “Fine. But we’re talking after,” she said, shooting him a look that clearly communicated there was unfinished business between them. She turned on her heel, retreating to the kitchen and leaving the two of you in a tense silence.

You exhaled, still feeling the sting of surprise. “So, let me get this straight. Your ex-girlfriend who kicked you out now has a key and comes barging in?”

Sigtryggr’s cheeks flushed as he stumbled over his words. “It’s… complicated. We broke up months ago. She kept the key for emergencies, but I didn’t think she’d actually use it. I mean, she made it pretty clear she never wanted to see me again.” He shook his head, his eyes wide with a mixture of embarrassment and desperation. “I had no idea she’d be coming by today, I swear.”

You let out a breath, half-amused by his genuine horror at the situation. Despite everything, there was something undeniably ridiculous about it all. Here was this cool, collected artist, now completely rattled by his ex-girlfriend unexpectedly showing up while he was in bed with someone else.

You finally cracked a small smile. “You couldn’t make this up if you tried.”

He groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. “This really isn’t how I imagined our morning together going. I’m sorry.”

Before you could respond, Stiorra’s voice called from the kitchen. “I’m making coffee. There’s milk and sugar somewhere—if Sigtryggr actually bought groceries this week, that is.”

Sigtryggr’s eyes met yours, full of sheepishness, and you couldn’t help but laugh, the tension starting to dissolve. “I’ll take that as a hint to get dressed,” you said, sliding out of bed and grabbing your clothes, feeling his gaze following you apologetically.

“Take your time,” Stiorra called again, her voice faintly dripping with irony. “I’ll try not to make it more awkward.”

As if more awkward was even possible, a stifled laugh escaped you as you slipped into your clothes, feeling like you were in some strange, twisted sitcom. Sigtryggr joined you, tossing on his shirt and jeans quickly, his eyes darting nervously between you and the kitchen.

Once you were both dressed, you headed to the kitchen. Stiorra was there, leaning against the counter with a mug in hand, her lips twisted in a wry smile. She looked at you and Sigtryggr with an expression that was part curiosity, part thinly veiled irritation. Two other steaming mugs waited on the counter and you grabbed one like a life saviour.

"Well," she drawled, swirling her coffee. "I see you’ve wasted no time finding a replacement." Her gaze flicked from you to Sigtryggr, her tone razor-sharp. "Or were you just waiting for the perfect moment to jump into someone else’s bed, Sigtryggr? Good to know you’ve been so… resilient."

You saw a flicker of hurt cross Sigtryggr’s face as he tried to respond, his gaze darting briefly to you before returning to Stiorra, as if caught in some unresolved pull. He shifted beside you, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Stiorra," he managed, his voice tight, "you know it’s not  like that. It’s been almost half a year..."

But she didn’t give him room to explain. She looked down at her coffee, a hint of sadness breaking through her sarcasm as her fingers tightened around the mug. "I didn’t come here to make a scene," she murmured, her tone softening. "I just… I thought I wanted to move on. But maybe I was wrong."

You swallowed hard, your eyes darted from Sigtryggr to his ex-girlfriend and truth be told the only coherent thought was the increasingly intensive wish for the earth to open up and swallow you whole. Facing lions in the Colosseum would have been a more appealing option than drinking coffee in what you’d thought was your new boyfriend’s kitchen, watching it turn into a stage for a soap opera. Whoever said, "If something looks too good to be true, it probably is," had clearly known exactly what they were talking about.

Stiorra lifted her gaze to meet Sigtryggr’s, her defiance melting into something softer, tinged with regret. 

"Siggy, baby, I’m so sorry!" she blurted, her voice cracking as her teary eyes searched his. The sudden burst of emotions startled you both, leaving the room steeped in uncomfortable tension. "Leaving you wasn’t what I thought I wanted," she continued, the words tumbling out, unrestrained and unguarded. "It was the biggest mistake of my life, and I just hoped you… you might feel the same. I couldn’t wait any longer—I just needed to tell you this." Her gaze darted back to the steaming coffee in her hands, as though she couldn’t bear to face him anymore. “I never imagined you’d move on so fast, not after everything we had together.”

You glanced over at Sigtryggr, who looked as if he’d just been slapped with a cold fish. The usual calm, steady demeanour he carried so effortlessly was gone, replaced by a vulnerable uncertainty you hadn’t seen before. His mouth opened as if to respond, then closed again, his mind clearly spinning in too many directions to form coherent words. He looked at you briefly, but his attention was drawn back to Stiorra, as if caught by an invisible thread that still connected them.

His eyes softened, a hint of that old, unguarded affection surfacing as he stammered. “Stiorra, I… I didn’t expect this. I thought… we were over. I thought you’d moved on.”

The longing in his voice was unmistakable. You felt an odd pang, a mixture of empathy and unease as you watched him struggle. The way he looked at her, his gaze clouded with both confusion and something undeniably tender, told you more than his words ever could. And strangely you didn’t even feel betrayed. You felt a deep understanding, even sympathy kindling within you. 

It was clearly time to make an exit before this scene turned into a full-blown tragicomedy. But before you could even think of a polite way to excuse yourself, Stiorra’s gaze shifted to you, a knowing smile tugging at her lips.

“Oh, I know who you are,” she said, her tone casual—almost too casual. “You must be the mysterious girl who broke Sihtric’s heart. I’ve seen your picture, actually. He still keeps one in his wallet.”

“What?” The words hit you like a frying pan to the face, and you nearly dropped your coffee mug. This was beyond surreal; it was a nightmare layered with unwanted revelations. You glanced around, looking for any possible way to evaporate from the room as a wave of nausea crept over you.

Stiorra caught your reaction, her gaze sharpening as if sensing your unease. “No,” she said, her eyes assessing you calmly. “Not like that. Sihtric and I were never… involved.” She gave a casual shrug, one that seemed both reassuring and indifferent. “But I know him well enough. He worked for my father, Uhtred, for quite some time. And we have some mutual friends—Finan, Osferth. They’re close, practically brothers.”

You swallowed, still processing the shock as she spoke, and noticed the way her gaze flickered, slightly more empathetic now. Sigtryggr shifted beside you, clearly uncomfortable with where the conversation was heading, his gaze moving between you and Stiorra.

“Stiorra,” he said, clearing his throat, his voice a mixture of discomfort and quiet insistence, “I think we’re all getting a bit caught off guard here.”

Stiorra shrugged, but her expression softened as she looked back at him. “Maybe,” she admitted, voice gentler now. “But some things are better said than left hanging.” She turned her attention back to you. “Haven’t seen him in a while, but… he never really got over you, you know.”

The words landed like a stone in your chest, and for a moment, you felt the weight of everything you’d tried to put behind you pressing in. 

“Wait, hold on!” you blurted out, the words escaping faster than you could stop them and surely much louder than you wanted. “I broke his heart? What the hell are you talking about? He was the one who found someone else less than a week after I was out of sight.”

Stiorra’s eyes widened at your outburst. She hesitated before responding, her voice softer, almost cautious. “Wait… really? I don’t know all the details,” she admitted, glancing away briefly, “but I know for sure that Sihtric has been a mess since you left. Osferth and Finan have been trying to get him back on his feet, trying to knock some sense into him. But he’s just… shut everyone out, suffering in silence.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but something in her expression stopped you. There was a subtle reproach that made you falter.

Her words stung. You knew them—Osferth and Finan—Sihtric’s closest friends. Meeting them had felt like a significant step, almost as if you were meeting his family. Sihtric barely spoke about his parents or any siblings, but these two were an inseparable part of his life. The night he’d introduced you to them still lingered vividly in your memory.

Finan had taken to you right away, looking at you with an approving grin, clapping Sihtric on the shoulder and saying, “Finally, he’s found someone who might actually keep him in line.” His easy laughter and quick wit made you feel like you’d known him for years, and there was a warmth to his acceptance that had meant more than he probably knew.

Osferth, meanwhile, had been a bit more reserved, a touch of shyness in his gentle eyes. But there had been a sweetness in the way he’d talked to you, always quick to ask if you needed anything, checking that you felt included. You’d quickly learned he was the steady, caring presence in their group, looking out for both Sihtric and Finan with a brotherly devotion.

Those early evenings with them had been filled with laughter and endless stories from their nights out. You’d felt embraced by the friendship, a part of the easy bond they all shared. But when Sihtric walked out of your life, that sense of belonging had vanished too. They had been his friends, not yours, and your connection with them had ended as abruptly as your relationship with him.

“Look,” Stiorra continued, her voice pulling you back from your thoughts, “there are always two sides to a story. But only one truth. If you want to know more, maybe… maybe you should talk to Finan and Osferth. They know him better than anyone and could probably tell you more than I can.”

Without another word, you stood up, the urge to leave overpowering any sense of decorum. Sigtryggr reached out, his face a mix of surprise and worry as he tried to get your attention. “Hey, are you okay? What’s going on?”

You shook your head, barely able to meet his gaze. “I just… I need to go. I need…” The words trailed off, but you didn’t even bother to finish the sentence as you hastily grabbed your purse and headed to the doors without a single look back. 

You knew that Osferth worked as an assistant stylist at one of the top fashion studios, and Finan had a reputation as a brilliant set designer, always moving between shoots with an infectious energy. They were well-known figures in the industry, so it didn’t take long to track them down at a nearby studio where they were scheduled to prepare for an upcoming campaign.

The studio was bustling when you arrived. Assistants hurried about, racks of clothes lined the walls, and the hum of people preparing for a major shoot filled the space. You spotted Finan first, standing with his hands on his hips, joking with a lighting technician, his signature grin lighting up his face. Beside him, Osferth was focused on arranging a set of accessories on a table, his usually reserved expression serious as he worked.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward, and Finan caught sight of you. His grin faded, replaced by surprise that quickly gave way to guarded curiosity. He nudged Osferth, who looked up in shock, the familiar softness in his eyes now laced with uncertainty and distance you hadn’t expected. The two exchanged a look before approaching you, their movements careful, almost wary, as if they were unsure of how to greet you.

“Hey,” you managed, your voice catching. “I… I need to talk to you. About Sihtric.”

“Well,” Finan said, crossing his arms, his voice lacking its usual warmth. “If it isn’t the ghost from Sihtric’s past.”

The jab landed harder than you’d expected, his accusatory tone sinking into you like a heavy stone.

Finan’s gaze was steely, his arms crossed tightly over his chest as he fixed you with an unforgiving look. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done to him?” he said, his voice thick with frustration. “Twice now, you’ve come crashing into his life—first, tearing him apart, and now, strolling back in like a stranger, as if he doesn’t deserve even a shred of understanding for everything he’s been through. The least you could do is thank him for what he did for you.”

“What he did for me?” you repeated, your voice barely a whisper, caught in a haze of disbelief. You couldn’t even process the meaning behind his accusations, feeling as if you’d just walked into an ambush. You regretted coming here, every instinct screaming at you to turn and leave, to escape this room and the anger that pressed down on you from all sides. Blinking back tears that threatened to spill, you took a shaky step back, but Finan didn’t relent.

He moved closer, his gaze piercing, his voice unyielding. “Do you know how long it took him to get his life back together after you left?” he continued, his tone unwavering. “To even begin piecing himself back together? And then you show up out of nowhere, with no idea what he’s been through, and somehow make him fall all over again.”

Stunned, you stared at him, but he wasn’t finished. “We’ve been trying to help him move on for ages. Osferth and I—do you know how many nights we’ve spent picking him up after he shut everyone out, barely holding on? He’s been carrying this burden alone since the day he let you go.” Finan scoffed, his voice low and dark with exasperation. “And you—you have the nerve to walk back and judge him?”

You wanted to move but you felt rooted to the spot as you couldn’t keep the tears from rolling down your cheeks anymore. “Thank him? For what? For dropping me and finding another less than a week after I wasn’t in sight? For ruining my life, leaving me gathering the shards?”

Finan drew a deep breath, but Osferth interrupted him, placing a calming hand on Finan’s arm, though his face still held traces of disappointment as he looked at you. “Finan wait. Something’s not right there.” His eyes shifted to you, his expression softening, but only slightly. “And that’s all you know about what happened?”  he asked, his tone measured but no less serious. 

“What else is there to know?” you snapped, frustration simmering in your chest. “I thought he loved me, and the next thing I know, he’s moved on like I never existed. I think I have a right to be a little angry.”

Finan exchanged a glance with Osferth, as if confirming something, then sighed, rubbing his temples. “So, Gisela never told you why he did it?”

You felt your stomach clench at the mention of Gisela. Confusion gave way to a creeping unease, your mind racing to piece together what they were trying to say. “Gisela?” you repeated, barely masking the surprise in your voice. “What does she have to do with any of this?”

Osferth shifted uncomfortably, his gaze turning thoughtful. “Gisela came to him. Said it would be better if he… stepped aside. She told him about that offer you got, the scholarship and the contract – that once in a lifetime opportunity for you. She’s the one who convinced him to let you go. She told him it would be best for you to focus on your future, that he was holding you back.  And Sihtric… well, he thought he was doing what was best for you.”

“Best for me?” The words felt hollow, ringing with an irony that cut deeper with each syllable. You felt a wave of disbelief crash over you, your stomach twisting as you processed his words.

Osferth nodded, his gaze sombre. “He figured if he just… cut ties, you’d have no reason to look back. He tried to bury how he felt, make you believe he’d moved on. But we both know it tore him apart. He’s never been the same since you left.”

You felt your knees weaken, the ground beneath you seeming to tilt as the truth settled over you, each piece of information landing like a blow. The anger, the hurt, the betrayal—all of it twisted into something else, something that left you feeling hollow. Your legs gave way, turning to jelly, and you would have surely hit the ground if Finan and Osferth hadn’t steadied you from each side.

“Easy there!” Finan’s voice had softened, a warmth returning that you hadn’t expected as he guided you, his anger replaced by concern. He quickly waved to a set assistant walking nearby. “Get a chair—and some water!” he called, his tone firm but urgent.

You barely noticed the assistant rushing off. A chair was brought over, and Finan and Osferth eased you into it, the world around you blurring as you tried to comprehend what you just heard. Osferth knelt beside you, his eyes steady and full of sadness as he handed you the water.

“I… I didn’t know,” you stammered, the words feeling small, inadequate. You looked at them, your voice cracking. “I thought he… I thought he didn’t care. I thought he wanted me gone.”

Finan shook his head, his gaze softening as he met your eyes. “It was never about him not caring. He thought he was doing the right thing—for you.”

“He’s been living with that choice,” Finan added quietly, his eyes meeting yours, “because he thought it would give you a better life.”

Osferth placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, his tone gentle. “Sometimes people make the hardest choices for the ones they love. Doesn’t mean they don’t hurt just as much.”

“Maybe… maybe it’s time you hear it from him,” Finan said softly, his tone no longer accusatory but understanding.

—---------------------------------------------------

The worry gnawed at you, growing with each unanswered call, each message left unread. Sihtric had vanished after the fashion show, and as the hours without a word turned into an entire day, you found yourself pacing around your apartment like a caged animal, restless and frustrated.

You hadn’t wanted to go to his place—not at first. The idea of stepping into his space felt like giving up the neutral ground you’d hoped to keep. But as your concern deepened, it became clear that there was no other option. With a resigned sigh, you grabbed your things and headed out, finally making your way to his apartment.

When you arrived, you looked up to see a warm glow coming from Sihtric’s window. Relief flooded over you—he was home. You exhaled deeply, feeling the tightness in your chest ease, if only a little. You deliberately chose the stairs over the elevator, hoping the walk up would give you time to gather your thoughts. But even with the extra moments, your mind remained frustratingly blank, and your heart raced like a drumbeat in your chest.

Standing in front of his door, you raised your hand to the doorbell, trying to ignore the nervous twist in your stomach. But instead of ringing, you pressed your palm and ear to the door, straining to hear any sign of movement on the other side. Come on, you can do this, you urged yourself, taking a deep, steadying breath. Finally, you lifted your hand and pressed the button, feeling your pulse quicken as you waited for him to answer.

A sinking feeling twisted in your gut as there was only silence on the other side but you refused to give up. You pressed the doorbell again, then again, determined to get some response. Still, nothing.

“Sihtric,” you finally called. “I know you’re in there. I can see the light. Please, just talk to me.”

Silence stretched, pressing down on you. Frustrated, you balled your fists and pounded on the door, the echo of each hit ricocheting down the empty corridor. Somewhere down the hall, a door creaked open, and you glanced over your shoulder to find a pair of curious, disapproving eyes peering at you through a crack. But you were beyond caring about nosy neighbours. Ignoring them, you turned back to Sihtric’s door and knocked again, your voice catching slightly as you called his name once more.

Just as you felt the last shimmer of hope begin to slip away, you heard a faint shuffle behind the door, the sound of hesitant footsteps drawing closer. Relief flickered through you, only to fade as his voice, rough and bitter, cut through the silence.

“Just… go away,” he muttered, his tone carrying a heaviness that felt like a punch to the chest. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Sihtric?” you called, pressing a hand against the door. “Please, open up. I just want to talk.”

Silence. But you knew he was there, so you waited. A bitter, muffled voice finally answered. “Why? There’s nothing more to talk about,” he replied, his tone rough, barely masking the exhaustion in his voice. “Just… leave me alone.”

Ignoring his dismissal, you leaned closer, unwilling to let him shut you out. “Sihtric, please. I was wrong. I was wrong not wanting to listen to you, shutting you out. Please open the door, so we can talk. I just… I need to understand.”

He scoffed from the other side, the bitterness in his voice cutting. “Understand? You want to understand now? Why? You have your perfect little life, your perfect job, your prince charming.” His words were laced with sarcasm. “You want to judge me? I already gave you the chance for that at the show. I saw it on your face. I don’t need more of that.”

You pressed your forehead against the door, your heart pounding as you tried to will back tears slowly gathering in the corners of your eyes. “I’m sorry. Sihtric, can you hear me? I’m so sorry. And I wasn’t judging you, Sihtric. I was just… surprised. I’m not here to make things worse. I came because I care.”

On the other side of the door, Sihtric stood still, barely breathing, his entire body tense. He could feel the ache in his shoulders and neck, the result of hours spent tossing and turning through a sleepless night, haunted by thoughts of you and his own spiralling decisions. Every muscle felt heavy, weighed down by exhaustion, regret and anger.

He wanted to open the door. Part of him ached to see you, to hear your voice without the barrier between you. But another part—larger, stronger, the part that had convinced him to let you go years ago—held him back. That part reminded him of everything he’d become, the mess he’d made of his life since then, and the humiliation of his drunken, jealousy-fueled outburst at the fashion show. He clenched his fists, fighting the shame that burned inside him, wondering if he could ever face you again.

His heart pounded, each beat reverberating with the bitterness that had taken root within him. What did he have to offer you now? He was broken, he knew that much, and he’d spent too long building up his defences to believe someone would want to come close enough to help him pick up the pieces. Especially not you—the one person he’d hurt most by pushing you away.

Drawing a deep shaky breath he slowly slid down to the ground, resting his back against the door. His elbows propped on his knees he buried his face in his hands, the world reduced to the darkness behind his closed eyelids. 

The memories of the fashion show flashed in his mind—your face when he’d approached you, the shock and disappointment in your eyes, the way he’d stumbled through his words, lost in a haze of jealousy and alcohol. The regret was a deep wound now, throbbing with every word you spoke on the other side of the door.

What could he say to you? That he was sorry? Sorry didn’t even begin to cover the tangled mess he’d made of things. 

The sound of your voice, pleading, coaxing him to open the door, tore at him. He could feel you there, so close, and it made everything hurt more sharply. Sihtric let out a shaky breath, feeling the first sting of tears pressing at the corners of his eyes, but he held them back, unwilling to let himself break down, even now.

“Why are you here?” he muttered under his breath, as much to himself as to you. His voice was rough, barely hiding the bitterness he felt, not even toward you but toward himself. “What good can come from this?”

He sat there, torn between the urge to stand up, unlock the door, and reach for you, and the dark, cynical voice in his mind that told him to stay hidden, that he didn’t deserve whatever you were here to offer.

And yet, through it all, he couldn’t help but listen, couldn’t ignore the hope in your words, the softness in your tone. He could almost feel you on the other side, feel the warmth you brought, a warmth he hadn’t felt in years. 

But that hope was terrifying. Because if he opened the door, if he let you in… The very idea of you seeing him like this—broken, regret-filled and barely holding it together—filled him with shame. He didn’t know if he was strong enough to do that. He probably wasn’t. 

Silence hung in the air, thick and suffocating. Sihtric’s breathing grew uneven, and for a moment, you wondered if he’d even heard you. Then, his voice cut through the quiet, rough and worn, tinged with a bitterness that struck you like a physical blow.

“I don’t need your sympathy,” he muttered, the words laced with frustration. “I don’t need anything from you. Just leave me alone—I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“Sihtric,” you called softly, pressing your hand flat against the door. “Please… just open the door.”

When he didn’t respond, you clenched your fists and banged against the door, louder this time, not caring who heard. “Sihtric, I’m not going anywhere! You don’t have to shut me out. I know… I know what you did for me. I know why you left.”

There was a pause, so deep and tense you could hear the faint sounds from the street outside, muffled and distant. Finally, his voice broke the silence, barely audible, fragile. “Who told you that?”

You took a steadying breath, hoping he could hear the sincerity in your tone. “Finan and Osferth,” you replied. “They told me everything. How you thought leaving was best for me, how you made it look like you’d moved on just so I wouldn’t come back… how you suffered through it all because you thought it was the right thing.”

There was another pause, and then he laughed, a hollow, defeated sound that twisted painfully in your chest. “So, what?” he said, his voice wavering, barely holding steady. “You came here to pity me? To see what a mess I’ve made of myself?” He sounded tired, as if the words themselves were an effort. “I don’t need your pity either.”

For a moment, all you could hear was his unsteady breathing. You imagined him, standing just on the other side, close enough to touch if only he’d open the door. It was driving you mad—having him so close but so far away at the same time. You silently cursed yourself for turning him down, for refusing to listen when he had tried to talk to you before. Why had you been so cold? Why had you let fear take over?

But it wasn’t just your fear that had brought you to this moment. Gisela. The thought struck like a dagger, bitter and sharp. Why had she meddled? Why had she pushed Sihtric into making that choice without ever telling you? All those times she’d been there, comforting you, assuring you that moving on was the right thing to do—she had known. She had known the truth and had kept it from you. Why, Gisela? you thought bitterly, your hands balling into fists against the door. Why did you do this to me? To us?

You closed your eyes, pressing your forehead against the door, the whirlwind of emotions inside you felt unbearable, but amidst the chaos, a single thought began to crystallize with startling clarity. I’m not letting this go. Not this time. You had spent too long blaming others for what had happened—Sihtric, the universe, now Gisela. Too long nursing your pain, placing it on a pedestal like some kind of shield to justify not moving forward, not letting yourself feel again. But you couldn’t hide from the truth anymore. This wasn’t just pain or regret—this was love. It had never stopped being love, and it was time you faced it.

You straightened slightly, you weren’t going to let the past define what was left of your future. This was your chance, and you weren’t going to let fear or pride hold you back any longer. Sihtric deserved the truth, and so did you. He needed to hear it, to know that you still loved him—not the sanitized, half-forgotten version of love you’d pretended to bury, but the real thing. The kind of love that ached, that fought, that refused to let go.

And he needed to know the part you’d played in letting it all fall apart. The anger you’d clung to, the walls you’d built to protect yourself, all of it had driven you away from him when you should have stayed and fought, and you needed to own that. 

“I’m not giving up on this,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him, though you hoped he could feel the determination in your voice. “Not this time, not again.”

You took a deep breath, feeling the door as your only support as you leaned against it. “Sihtric,” you began, your voice trembling, but there was no hesitation in your words. “Please, just listen to me. Don’t make the same mistake I did. Please, I’m begging you just hear me out. I’m here because… because I never stopped loving you.”

You could feel his breathing hitch on the other side, but he didn’t say anything, and you went on, needing him to hear everything.

“I wanted to hate you,” you confessed, your voice breaking slightly. “I tried. I thought that if I could just hate you, it would be easier. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t hate you, not really. Even when I tried to move on, to make a life without you… I couldn’t let go of you. No one else could replace what you mean to me.”

On the other side of the door, Sihtric let out a ragged breath, his hands covering his face. 

The weight of your own words took their toll, and slowly, your legs gave way. You slid down to the ground, sitting with your back pressed against the door, your head resting against the wood as you stared at the empty hallway in front of you. 

“When you wanted to talk to me that day at the shoot… I was so cold because I was scared, Sihtric,” you whispered, the confession falling from your lips before you could stop it. “I was afraid that if I let you in, even a little, I’d break. That all the walls I put up to protect myself would come crashing down.”

Sihtric listened, his face buried in his hands, feeling every word you spoke burning holes in his soul. He wanted to reach for you, to say something, but something kept him still, the knowledge of everything he’d put both of you through holding him back. His breath was shaky, his heart pounding as he imagined you there, only inches away.

“I tried to move on, Sihtric,” you continued. “I tried to make a life without you. I even tried to love someone else, to find what I had with you with someone new. But it didn’t work. No one… no one ever felt like you.”

Sihtric’s hands dropped from his face, and he pressed his palms flat against the door, his fingers splaying out as if they could reach you through the barrier between you as he felt his resolve breaking, his walls crumbling bit by bit.

“I thought letting you go was the best thing I could do for you,” he murmured. “I thought that if I hurt you enough, you’d decide to leave me behind… and you’d never look back. I wanted you to be successful and happy, even if it meant I couldn’t be.”

A tear slipped down your cheek as you listened, your heart breaking all over again. “Don’t you see?” you said, your voice barely a whisper. “I was never happy without you. I kept telling myself that I could be, but deep down, I knew… I knew I’d never feel whole again.”

For a moment, the two of you sat there, separated by inches of wood and miles of unspoken feelings, both of you held captive by the same painful memories and buried longing.

“You don’t understand…” he continued, his voice breaking. “I’m not who I used to be. I’m not… I’m not enough for you, you need someone better. I don’t even know who I am anymore. You should be out there, living that life you’ve created and earned, not here… with someone like me.”

You swallowed hard, tears pooling in your eyes but refusing to fall. “I don’t need someone better, Sihtric. I need you,” you said, your voice trembling but resolute. “The real you, flaws and all. I can’t pretend anymore that everything’s fine without you in my life. I don’t care about perfect, Sihtric. I just… I just want you.”

The silence behind the door was deafening, stretching longer than you could bear. Your chest tightened, every second dragging on like an eternity. You strained to hear anything—a shuffle, a breath, even the slightest indication that he was still there—but there was nothing. The hollow quiet seeped into your heart, threatening to shatter it into a thousand pieces again.

Was this really the end? The thought weighed heavy, pressing against you until you couldn’t sit upright any longer. Slowly, you laid your head down on your knees, clutching them tightly as if to hold yourself together. You felt the sting of finality creeping in, the cruel certainty that you had done everything you could. It was time to stand up, to walk away, and this time, not look back.

But just as you started to gather the strength to rise, a faint, almost imperceptible sound reached your ears. A click. Your breath hitched as the unmistakable sound of the lock turning echoed softly through the silence.

You turned your head at the sound of the door creaking open, and there he was. Sihtric stood in the doorway. He looked exhausted, dark rings encircling his beautiful large eyes, face shadowed and tired. His hair was disheveled, and his shirt was rumpled, hanging loosely on his frame, but you didn’t care. All you could see was him, standing there, finally letting you in.

You jumped to your feet, propelled by a wave of relief and emotion, and lunged at him before you could think twice. The sudden movement caught him off guard, and the two of you stumbled backward into the apartment, the door swinging shut behind you. Your arms wrapped tightly around him, holding on as though he might disappear again if you let go. Tears streamed down your cheeks, soaking into his rumpled shirt as you buried your face against his broad, muscular chest.

For a moment, he stood frozen, his hands hovering uncertainly by his sides. Then, slowly, hesitantly, his arms came around you, pulling you closer. He let out a shuddering breath, the tension in his body giving way as he held you tightly, like he was afraid this was just another fleeting dream.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice muffled against him, trembling with emotion. “I’m so, so sorry, Sihtric. For shutting you out. For not fighting harder. For letting my anger win.”

His chest rose and fell beneath you as he struggled to steady his breathing. His voice was rough, as he finally spoke. “You have nothing to be sorry for. It was me… all of it. I pushed you away. I thought it was the only way.”

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt. 

“I should’ve fought for us,” you said, your voice breaking. “I should’ve seen through it, through what you were doing. But I didn’t.”

His hand came up to cup your face, his touch tentative, almost disbelieving. “You couldn’t have known,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “I made sure of that. I wanted you to move on, to be happy.”

“I wasn’t happy,” you said, shaking your head. “I could never be happy without you.”

He closed his eyes, his forehead resting against yours as a tear slid down his cheek. “I don’t know if I can fix this. If I can fix me.”

You reached up, your fingers tracing the stubble along his jaw as you steadied your voice. “You don’t have to fix anything. We’ll figure it out together. Just, please, don’t push me away again.”

For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. He just held you, his hands trembling slightly as they clung to you. Then, he leaned in and his lips brushed yours in a soft, lingering kiss that carried the weight of everything he couldn’t say.

Sihtric's lips trembled against yours, as you pressed into him, your hands clutching harder the fabric of his shirt, silently telling him that you were here, that this was real. You kissed him back pouring all your emotions into that one single gentle touch of lips, getting more heated and desperate with each passing moment.

When he pulled back just enough to catch his breath, he began to press a trail of kisses across your cheeks, your forehead, the bridge of your nose. 

“I love you,” he murmured between kisses, his voice rough and low. “I’ve always loved you. Even when I tried to forget… when I tried to move on, I couldn’t.” His lips found yours again, more insistent this time, as though he couldn’t get enough, couldn’t hold back the flood of emotions he’d kept buried for so long.

“I tried to find someone else,” he admitted, his voice breaking as he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours. His breath was warm and unsteady. “I thought I could replace what we had. But it was never the same. No one could ever be you.” His hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer, his grip firm but gentle. “I don’t want anyone else. I can’t. It’s always been you, and it will always be you.”

Without warning, he scooped you up into his strong arms, holding you effortlessly as though you weighed nothing. You gasped softly, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as he looked down at you, his eyes filled with something raw and unrestrained.

“I need you,” he said, his gaze locked on yours. “I need you in every part of my life. And right now… I need to show you how much I love you.”

You smiled through tears, you fingers tangling in his thick, disheveled hair. You pulled him closer and with a low almost desperate growl his lips captured yours again as he carried you further into the apartment.

—-----------------------------------------------------------

The soft hum of voices and the gentle clinking of glasses filled the air as you arrived at the exhibition, a feeling of anticipation settling in your chest. Gisela was waiting for you near the entrance, her ever-poised demeanor slightly off-kilter as she scanned the crowd. When her eyes landed on you, a flicker of something—relief? Concern?—crossed her face, and she hurried over.

“There you are,” she said, taking your hand as though to steady you. Her tone carried an edge of urgency, and you could tell she was gearing up to say something important. “I’m glad you came. But listen, before you go inside, there’s something I need to tell you.”

Her voice lowered conspiratorially as she leaned closer. “Sigtryggr… he’s here. And he brought someone. A girlfriend, apparently.” Her words were careful, but her gaze flickered with unease, clearly gauging your reaction.

You raised an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement rising in you. “That’s fine, Gisela,” you said, squeezing her hand lightly. “Sigtryggr and I… we weren’t meant to be. I’m happy for him.”

She blinked, slightly taken aback by your calm response, but pressed on. “Well, I thought you should know. But I also have someone I want you to meet.” Her voice brightened slightly, as though trying to distract you from the potential awkwardness waiting inside.

You tilted your head, an affectionate smile creeping onto your face. “Actually, Gisela, I have someone I want you to meet first.”

Before Gisela could respond, Sihtric stepped forward from behind you. He wasn’t dressed to blend into the crowd of sharply tailored suits and polished shoes that filled the gallery, yet somehow, he looked effortlessly striking. 

A dark, fitted leather jacket hung perfectly over his broad shoulders, paired with a simple, black t-shirt that clung to his lean, muscular frame. Fitted jeans and scuffed boots completed the look, adding a touch of ruggedness that made him stand out in all the right ways.

His dark hair was neatly tied back, but a few rogue strands fell across his sharp cheekbones, softening the intensity of his piercing eyes. He looked effortlessly cool, the kind of man who drew attention without even trying, and the subtle smirk on his lips only added to the effect.

Sihtric slipped his hand into yours, your fingers intertwining, and the look on Gisela’s face was priceless. She was frozen, her gaze locking on him as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Her usual poise faltered, and for the first time, she seemed genuinely at a loss for words. Her eyes flicked between you and Sihtric, wide with shock, her mouth opening and closing slightly as though searching for something—anything—to say.

“Sihtric,” you said warmly, your voice filled with affection as you glanced up at him. He responded by slipping his arm around your waist, his hand resting at the small of your back.

Gisela finally found her voice, though it was a touch higher-pitched than usual. “I… didn’t realize…” she stammered, her gaze darting to you as if silently questioning how, when, and why this had happened.

You cut her off with a gentle but firm nudge to the side, brushing past her with a smile. “Gisela, we’ll catch up later. Right now, there are a few people we’d like to say hello to.”

Sihtric’s arms wrapped securely around you as you walked into the exhibition together, his warmth grounding you. You caught sight of Sigtryggr and Stiorra in the center of the gallery, standing close, their heads tilted toward each other as they shared a quiet laugh. Whatever lingering awkwardness might have existed between you and Sigtryggr seemed to dissolve as you approached, Sihtric at your side.

“Sigtryggr,” you greeted warmly, your smile genuine. “It’s good to see you.”

Sigtryggr turned, his expression flickering with brief surprise before softening into a polite smile. “And you,” he replied, his gaze briefly darting to Sihtric before settling back on you. “I see you’ve… moved on as well.”

“Seems like we’ve both found where we’re meant to be,” you replied, your tone light, though the weight of those words resonated deeply within you.

Stiorra raised her glass with a mischievous grin. “Well, well. Isn’t this a picture-perfect reunion?” she quipped, her tone teasing but kind.

Sihtric’s arm tightened around your waist as he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “A reunion, maybe,” he murmured just for you, his voice warm and low. “But what matters is where we go from here.”

And as you stood there, surrounded by art, by people who had once been tangled in your past, you couldn’t help but smile as for the first time in a long while, the future felt beautifully, wonderfully yours.

[moonselune]

By the Silk that Binds Us (pt. 12)

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Matron!Minthara x Wife!reader

CW: murder, nsfw, suggestive scenes

An arranged marriage, enemies to lovers fic: part one part two part three part four part five part six part seven part eight part nine part ten part eleven part thirteen

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The moment between you and Minthara was broken by a familiar, exasperated voice.

“Oh, this is all very sweet,” Lesaonar drawled, stepping into view with a languid stretch. “But can we please go before the stench of decaying duergar seeps into my favorite hunting doublet? I’ll never get it out.”

A chuckle escaped your lips, the absurdity of the moment hitting you just as the tension between you and Minthara began to melt away. Minthara sighed but released you from her tender hold, clearly exasperated by Lesaonar’s timing, though she wasn’t entirely surprised.

The group began their journey back through the tangled web of destruction you had left in your wake. As you passed the carnage—bodies twisted, draped in spider silk, creatures that had once roamed freely now reduced to mere remnants of their former selves—you couldn’t help but look at it with a mix of fascination and self-awe. The power you had unleashed still thrummed beneath your skin, reminding you of your strength, of the raw force that lived within you.

Behind you, Lesaonar was grumbling the entire way, his voice a constant stream of complaints about the mess, the dirt, and, most importantly, the state of his doublet. When the gates to House Baenre came into view, his complaining intensified until he was practically crying with relief.

“Oh, blessed gates of House Baenre! I thought I’d never see you again!” Lesaonar proclaimed dramatically, almost kissing the ground as his spider finally scuttled through the entrance.

Minthara muttered just loud enough for you to hear, her voice dry, “I had to put up with this the entire time.”

It did make you feel better—slightly. You smiled at her, shaking your head in amusement.

But as soon as they reached the courtyard, a surprising sight awaited them: Melinoe, standing near the entrance, her arms crossed, looking—of all things—relieved. Her eyes scanned the party, locking onto Lesaonar, and the moment his feet touched the ground, she was already rushing to him. Before Lesaonar could utter another word, she pulled him into an embrace and kissed him fiercely, her hands running over him as if making sure he was unharmed.

“You’re alright?” she demanded, her tone a mix of relief and frustration and Lesaonar could only nod with a flustered smile, this was a stark opposite of the brutal apathy he had suffered from her not even a day ago. Melinoe scowled over at Minthara, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “How could you take him out there? It’s dangerous for him!”

Lesaonar, ever the opportunist, leaned into her protectively as if he’d barely escaped a harrowing ordeal. “Oh, yes, my love! It was horrible! Filthy, stinking duergar everywhere. You wouldn’t believe what I had to endure. What the Matron put me through!”

Melinoe shot another fierce glare at Minthara, who could only roll her eyes at the dramatics. You chuckled softly, the scene playing out in front of you like a familiar performance. Lesaonar, ever the child when it suited him, was practically telling tales like a little boy trying to get his sister in trouble.

“Lesaonar was the last one to see her,” Minthara said with a wry smirk, her hands resting on her hips. “I didn’t have much of a choice.”

Melinoe didn’t look convinced, her protective hold on Lesaonar tightening. “Still. Next time, leave him at home.”

Lesaonar grinned smugly, fully enjoying the attention and the comfort of Melinoe’s arms. You shot him an amused glance before turning to Minthara, gesturing for her to follow you as you made your way toward Lythaera’s room.

The familiar halls of House Baenre seemed calmer now, the weight of your previous rage slowly dissipating. Minthara kept close by your side, her hand ghosting at the small of your back, almost as if she was too scared to smother you but terrified that if she let go, you would slip away again.

When you finally reached Lythaera’s room, you pushed open the door gently. Inside, your daughter slept peacefully, her small figure bundled in blankets. The sight of her brought a warmth to your heart that even the wildest of magic couldn’t compare to.

Verona, the head of the house’s personal guard, stood sentinel beside the crib. Upon seeing you and Minthara, she inclined her head respectfully.

“Mistress,” she said in her cool, professional tone, though there was a hint of relief in her eyes at your return.

You walked over to Lythaera’s crib, cooing softly as you looked down at her tiny, delicate features. She stirred slightly in her sleep, her small hand twitching as if reaching for something in her dream. You turned to Verona, offering her a nod of gratitude. “Thank you, Verona. You are dismissed.”

Verona hesitated for a moment but nodded and left the room silently, leaving just you, Minthara, and your sleeping daughter.

Minthara stood back, watching you with an intensity that sent a small flutter through your chest. There was something about the way she looked at you now—like she couldn’t believe you were really here, that she had you back. Her usual armor of cold indifference was gone, replaced by something softer, more vulnerable.

“You can come closer, you know,” you said softly, not taking your eyes off Lythaera.

Minthara moved closer, standing beside you. She hesitated for a moment, unsure, before gently wrapping her arms around your waist, holding you with a tenderness that made your heart ache. You could feel her breath on your neck, and when you glanced at her, there was a softness in her eyes you hadn’t seen in a long time.

For a moment, the world seemed to stop, the weight of the day’s events fading as you basked in the peace of this quiet moment. You leaned into Minthara’s embrace, feeling her arms tighten around you protectively.

“You were right,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I was angry… but I didn’t mean to hurt you, either. I… just lost myself.”

Minthara pressed a kiss to your temple, her voice low and filled with sincerity. “We’ll figure it out, together.”

You turned in her arms, resting your forehead against hers as you pulled her into a gentle embrace. The two of you stood there in the quiet, with only the sound of Lythaera’s soft breathing in the background. And for the first time in a long while, you felt like you were home.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Deciding that you were all in need of some time together, you, Minthara, and little Lythaera sat together. The room was peaceful, filled with the quiet sounds of Lythaera’s laughter as she played, her small hands guiding her toys through an elaborate fantasy world only she could understand. You rested against Minthara, her arm draped around your shoulders, while your hand absentmindedly stroked your growing belly.

It wasn’t long before the conversation drifted back to the days when you had been pregnant with Lythaera. You turned to Minthara, a fond smile curling your lips.

“I’ll never forget the look on your face when I told you about Lythaera,” you teased, recalling the memory that had stayed with you all this time.

Minthara smirked but her eyes softened with warmth. “I remember,” she replied. “You took me by surprise… I wasn’t expecting it, not like that.”

“You froze,” you added with a soft laugh. “I thought you might faint. You didn’t know what to do with yourself.”

Minthara’s hand found yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I was just… overwhelmed,” she admitted. “I hadn’t imagined being a mother, not then. But the moment you told me, I knew I’d do anything to protect you and our child.”

You leaned in to press a soft kiss to her cheek, warmth spreading in your chest as you recalled those early days of uncertainty and excitement.

“And now look at us,” you said, a hand on your stomach, “Another one on the way.”

Minthara chuckled, her fingers tracing gentle circles on your back. “Yes… though let’s hope this one doesn’t kick as much as Lythaera did. I don't think I could deal with those sleepless nights again.”

"Sleepless nights? I was the one she was kicking!"

"Yes and who did you wake up to complain about it to?" Minthara raised a brow at you and you chuckled playfully, leaning further into her embrace.

As you and Minthara continued to sit together, basking in the soft warmth of your little family moment, Lythaera babbled excitedly, her tiny fingers grabbing one of her toys, a small carved wooden figure, and holding it up proudly for both of you to see.

“Red!” she proclaimed, her eyes wide with the thrill of getting the color right. “Red, Mama!”

You smiled, your heart swelling with pride as you watched her. “That’s right, sweetheart. The toy is red,” you encouraged, gently stroking her soft hair.

“Red… and blue!” she continued, holding up another toy, a small figure painted in dark blue hues. Her sentences were still broken, her words sometimes stumbling, but it was clear how much she was trying.

“Very good, my love,” Minthara chimed in, her tone impressed. She watched Lythaera with pride gleaming in her eyes. “You’re learning so quickly.”

Lythaera’s grin widened, as if the praise from both of you made her light up from the inside. “Mama… Momma! Red… blue… and green!”

You giggled softly as she pointed at her toys, rattling off colors with growing confidence. Each correct one made her beam, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Minthara’s gaze remained fixed on her daughter, the love and pride evident in every glance.

“I think she gets this from her uncle Lesaonar,” Minthara remarked with a chuckle, her lips quirking into a smirk.

You tilted your head at her with a teasing smile. “Lesaonar? Why him?”

Minthara shifted slightly, her hand lingering on your back as she spoke.

“Because he never shuts up,” she said with a playful grin, eyes sparkling with mischief. “The child is always babbling—just like him.”

You laughed, shaking your head fondly. “I suppose he does talk quite a bit. He’ll be thrilled to know you’ve compared him to a toddler.”

Minthara chuckled, pulling you closer to her side as the evening wore on. Lythaera was still chattering happily to herself, now playing with her toys in earnest, weaving together a little story in her imagination. Every once in a while, she would glance up to check if both of you were still watching, and of course, you were—hanging on her every word as though she were weaving the grandest of tales.

“She’s really growing up,” Minthara murmured, her voice softened by the quiet awe that came with watching your child flourish.

You nodded, feeling the same mixture of pride and wonder. “She really is… and her speech is coming along so well.”

Minthara’s hand slid from your back to your belly, her touch lingering there, gentle yet possessive.

The two of you watched Lythaera as she continued to play, her energy eventually winding down as the evening wore on. When it came time to feed her, you did so together, the simple act filling the air with warmth and contentment. Lythaera’s tiny hands rested on yours as she ate, her eyes growing heavy with sleep.

Once she was finished, you gently tucked her into bed, smoothing the blankets over her small form as she settled in. You kissed her forehead, whispering a soft goodnight, and watched as her eyelids fluttered closed.

Minthara, standing beside you, placed a hand on your shoulder as you stood up from Lythaera’s crib.

“You’re so good with her,” she murmured, her voice low and appreciative.

You turned to her, smiling softly. “We’re both good with her. She’s lucky to have us.”

Minthara stood beside you, her presence warm and familiar, yet something about her tonight felt different—more intense. As you leaned over to kiss Lythaera’s forehead, you felt Minthara’s hand brush lightly against the small of your back, lingering just a moment longer than necessary. It wasn’t an innocent touch, not the way her fingers grazed your skin, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

You straightened, casting her a knowing glance. Her deep red eyes, usually so calculating, were softened with a yearning that spoke volumes without a single word. Her gaze traced the curves of your body, lingering on the gentle swell of your pregnant belly, and there was a hunger there—a deep, possessive desire that she made no attempt to hide.

It was unmistakable now—the way her fingers pressed just a bit harder into your waist, the way her lips hovered near your neck as you stood close to the bed. You could feel her breath against your skin, warm and teasing. Every movement, every glance she gave you, was filled with a raw need, one that she hadn’t expressed so clearly since the tension between you both after the argument.

“Minthara,” you whispered, teasingly, as you gave her a slight nudge with your shoulder. But you didn’t move away, allowing her closeness, letting her hand slide down your arm with a possessive grip.

She didn’t respond verbally, but the way her eyes darkened in the dim light told you everything. Her gaze spoke of hunger, of a need that had built up since your earlier confrontation. You had sensed this in her ever since that argument, ever since she realized just how deeply she feared losing you. Now, it simmered in the space between you, radiating off her in waves.

You turned, casting one last look at your sleeping daughter before guiding Minthara out of the room. But the moment you were in the corridor, she was on you—her hands sliding around your waist, her lips brushing the curve of your neck, her touch electrifying. It was possessive, yes, but also reverent, as if every part of you was something sacred to her. She didn’t push too far, not yet, but you could feel the urgency in her touch.

By the time you reached your shared chambers, Minthara’s patience had worn thin. The door had barely clicked shut before she was in front of you, her body pressing you back against the cool stone wall. Her lips found yours, a soft, worshipful kiss at first, but the desperation behind it quickly revealed itself. Her hands roamed your body, sliding over your shoulders, down your back, and finally resting on your growing bump with such tenderness it nearly made you melt.

“You’re so beautiful,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. Her hands caressed your belly, the awe in her touch unmistakable. “So beautiful… carrying our child.”

You could hear the possessiveness in her voice, the way she almost growled the words as if to stake her claim. But there was adoration too, a worshipful reverence that made your heart race. She kissed along your collarbone, her breath hot and insistent against your skin, each kiss more fervent than the last.

“I’ve missed you,” she murmured between kisses, her hands still worshipping the curve of your belly, her lips moving lower. “Let me show you how much.”

You smirked, though your breath hitched at the way her touch made you feel. You let her continue for a moment, reveling in her worship, but you weren’t going to make it easy for her.

“Minthara,” you said, your voice teasing as your fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her back gently. “Is that all you’ve got?”

Her eyes flared with heat as she looked up at you, her lips parted slightly, her chest rising and falling with quickened breaths. For a moment, she seemed lost, enraptured by the sight of you, but she quickly regained her composure.

Her lips curled into a knowing smirk. “Oh, I’m just getting started,” she whispered, her voice low and filled with dark promise. Her hand moved from your bump to your hips, her grip firm but not forceful. She leaned in again, her lips brushing yours, teasing, her desire pouring into every soft caress.

You let out a soft laugh, your fingers tracing her jawline. “Then carry on,” you encouraged, leaning into her touch but still holding back, your own need growing but not willing to give in just yet.

Minthara growled softly at your teasing tone, but she didn’t rush. Instead, she took her time, savoring every touch, every kiss, as though she was trying to prove something—to show you just how much she adored you, how deeply she desired you, and how much she needed you after everything that had happened.

Her lips trailed down your neck, over the curve of your shoulder, as her hands continued to caress your body, every movement filled with worship and longing. When her hands returned to your belly, she rested them there, her eyes filled with awe as she looked up at you.

“You are everything to me,” she murmured, her voice soft and reverent, almost a prayer. “Our family… you… I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

You smiled down at her, your heart swelling at her words. The possessiveness, the desire—it was all born from love, from her fear of losing the family she had built with you. And as much as you teased her, you knew the truth. You needed her just as much.

But for now, you’d let her show you. You weren’t ready to give in yet, but you wanted to savor the way she worshipped you, to feel the depth of her adoration in every touch, every kiss. You leaned back, offering her a soft smile.

“Then keep going, Minthara,” you whispered, your voice a soft command. “Show me.”

Minthara’s touch held a reverence that felt like worship as she gently guided you down onto the bed, her hands tracing the delicate curves of your body with a slow, tender care that seemed almost like an apology woven into every movement.

“You’re breathtaking,” she whispered, her voice roughened with emotion. There was a depth to her tone that was rarely there, a vulnerability she normally kept locked away behind her icy resolve. The hand resting on your belly remained there, almost reverent, her fingers splayed as she gently traced the curves of your changing form. “I can’t believe I almost let all of this slip away. I can’t believe I was so blind…”

Her words trailed off as her gaze drifted over you, settling on each curve, each mark that pregnancy had brought to your form. You could see the hunger in her expression, but there was a tenderness there too, an almost painful adoration that struck something deep inside you. Her lips met your collarbone in a lingering kiss, then traveled lower, placing soft, deliberate kisses along the curve of your shoulder and down your arm. Her movements were patient, filled with a deliberate care that left your skin tingling in anticipation.

As her kisses continued down your body, her hand stayed fixed over your belly, a gentle, grounding presence. She placed her lips on your stomach, just above where your child grew, her eyes closing briefly, and you felt the faintest smile on her lips as she brushed them against your skin. There was something protective in her touch, as if she were making a silent vow to you both.

“Every change, every curve… it’s perfect,” she murmured, her voice barely more than a breath against your skin. She looked up at you, her ruby eyes blazing with emotion, but there was also a softness there that rarely broke through her strong exterior. “I want to see you grow even more, to watch you carry our child until you’re filled with them. You’re a vision… you always have been, but now…”

She trailed off, and you could feel her gaze drinking you in, her hand sliding around to cradle the curve of your waist with a fierce protectiveness. Her possessiveness was evident in every touch, in every kiss, in the way her hands moved over your skin as though she was trying to reclaim what she’d nearly lost to her own pride.

Your breath hitched as her lips traveled lower, tracing a path down to your hip, lingering to leave a mark that felt like a promise pressed into your skin. Her words came in a soft, reverent murmur, punctuated by the press of her lips on your skin. “How could I have been so foolish… to have ever taken someone as ethereal, as otherworldly as you for granted?”

The intimacy was palpable, an unspoken devotion radiating from her in waves as her hands continued to explore your body, her lips tracing across your skin with an attentiveness that left no inch neglected. It was as if she was on a pilgrimage, mapping out every curve and hollow with her lips and fingers, claiming you as her own with a kind of fierce reverence. She worshipped the growing life within you, the evidence of your bond, touching and kissing with a mixture of desire and adoration that left you feeling completely cherished.

Every brush of her lips, every caress, sent a shiver through you, the pleasure mounting with each tender movement, with each possessive kiss she pressed into your skin. You could sense her restraint, the way she held herself back, determined to give all of herself to you without demanding anything in return. Her fingers danced along your body, tracing delicate lines along your collarbone, trailing down to the curve of your hip, her lips following the path as though she was determined to memorize every inch of you.

“You deserve better… so much better than I’ve given you,” she whispered against your skin, her voice filled with an aching sincerity. “But I swear, I’m going to make it right. I’ll never let myself forget how much I need you… how much you mean to me.”

Her hands found their way back to your belly, her fingers tracing delicate circles, and the look in her eyes was one of pure reverence as she gazed down at the place where your child grew. There was a sense of awe in her expression, a reverence that made your heart swell. She looked at you as though you were something sacred, a goddess gracing her with your presence, and you could see the love in her gaze, raw and unfiltered.

When her lips found yours again, there was an urgency, a hunger that spoke of her need to prove to you everything she hadn’t managed to say before. The kiss was deep, filled with an intensity that took your breath away, her hands sliding up your sides, cradling you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. You could feel the love in every touch, the possessive tenderness that left no doubt as to how much she adored you.

Her mouth moved lower, her kisses trailing down your neck, her fingers tracing along your sides with a slow, deliberate care. She didn’t rush, savoring each moment, each taste of your skin, her movements filled with a depth of emotion that made your heart race. The pleasure built within you, a slow burn that made you ache for more, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh as her hands moved lower, her fingers tracing along the sensitive skin with a light, teasing touch.

“Let me make it up to you,” she whispered against your skin, her voice a low, fervent plea. “Let me show you just how much I adore you, how deeply I cherish every part of you.”

As she continued, her touch became more insistent, her lips trailing along the curve of your belly, down to your hip, leaving little marks of possession along the way. You felt yourself melting under her attention, your heart swelling with love and need as she continued to worship every inch of you with a kind of desperate reverence.

You tangled your fingers in her hair, pulling her closer as her touch sent waves of pleasure through you, and she responded with a soft growl, her hands moving to hold you firmly, anchoring you in her embrace. Her kisses became more fervent, each one a declaration of her love, her need for you, her worship of every part of you.

But just as you surrendered completely to her, a faint cry broke through the haze of intimacy. Lythaera. Her soft cries grew louder, and you felt Minthara tense, her possessive scowl returning as she looked towards the door. Her arms remained wrapped tightly around you, a reluctant look of jealousy crossing her face.

“Must you?” she muttered, her voice filled with thinly veiled frustration as Lythaera’s cries became more insistent. She held on to you for a lingering moment, her fingers tracing small circles on your skin as if she couldn’t bear to let go. You couldn’t help but laugh softly, brushing a hand against her cheek.

“I’ll go,” you murmured, a mischievous glint in your eye. “You’re… well, a bit messy, anyway.”

Minthara’s scowl deepened, and she made no attempt to hide her disappointment as she reluctantly released you. She watched you with a smoldering gaze, her eyes tracing the lines of your body with a mixture of longing and frustration as you slipped out of her embrace.

“Don’t keep me waiting too long,” she warned, her voice low and filled with desire as she watched you slip into a robe.

With a last, lingering kiss, you pulled away, casting her a smile as you turned to leave the room. Her possessive gaze followed you as you left, her hand reaching out to brush your arm as if reluctant to lose contact.

As you stepped into the corridor, Lythaera’s cries grew louder, and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, your heart swelling with love as you made your way to her room. Behind you, Minthara remained in bed, watching you disappear down the corridor with a mixture of longing and pride, a small, secret smile playing on her lips as she awaited your return.

You enter Lythaera’s small, dimly lit room, her soft cries tapering into quiet whimpers as she rubs her tired eyes. Her tiny hands reach out for you immediately, and you can feel the heat of her little fingers gripping tightly as you pull her close, holding her against your chest. She burrows into you, pressing her face into your shoulder, her voice muffled but unmistakably trembling as she begins to babble, her toddler’s speech tumbling out in broken, sleepy fragments.

“Bad… bad dream, Mama,” she murmurs, her voice hiccuping between breaths as she clings tightly to you. “Scary man… blue eyes… he… he tried to get me… Seladrareen”

“Oh, my little spiderling, you had a nightmare about the Seldarine?” you whisper, pressing a gentle kiss to her head. “There’s no scary man, no blue-eyed anything, that can ever get you. Not while I’m here. And you know what? No one is going to take you away. I’ll make sure of it, I promise.”

She pulls back, her big red teary eyes looking up at you, still filled with remnants of fear, but softened by trust in your words.

“Promise, Mama?” she whispers, her tiny hands clutching the front of your nightclothes as she searches your face for reassurance.

You smile, brushing a few strands of dark hair from her face. “I promise, my brave girl. No one is going to get past Mama. Or Momma, for that matter.”

At the mention of Minthara, Lythaera’s eyes light up, the ghost of her distress beginning to fade.

“Momma…” she whispers, clearly longing for her other mother’s comforting presence. You nod, stroking her back gently and carry her out of her room, making your way toward the warmth and security of your shared chambers.

As you enter, you find Minthara already stepping out from the bathroom, her hair damp and her usual sharp attire replaced by the softness of her night clothes, clearly taking your comment of her being 'messy' personally. Her eyes meet yours, and she immediately notices Lythaera in your arms, her eyebrows lifting with understanding and a glimmer of concern. She crosses the room swiftly, reaching out to take the little girl from you with a practiced gentleness that always surprises you.

“She had a nightmare,” you explain, watching as Minthara holds Lythaera close, brushing her lips over the top of her head. “It was about a man with scary blue eyes. She struggled to say the word Seldarine, Lolth bless her.”

Minthara’s jaw clenches just slightly, a flicker of irritation shadowing her gaze as she holds Lythaera tighter, protectively.

“Ah,” she murmurs, a cold edge in her voice as she pulls Lythaera closer, her voice softening for the girl. “I know exactly why he scared you, little one. Men are loathsome creatures, aren’t they? Pathetic, scummy things that slink in shadows. Especially the Seldarine.” She emphasizes the word with a playful, exaggerated sneer, one that makes Lythaera’s wide eyes brighten with amusement despite her sleepy fear.

“Scummy… men?” Lythaera echoes, her voice wobbling with a hint of giggles as she listens to her mother’s comforting, if unconventional, reassurances.

“Oh, the worst,” Minthara continues, her voice growing more dramatic as she strokes Lythaera’s hair. “And men like him… they’re far, far beneath you, my fierce little warrior. You’re a Baenre, a predator. And he? He’s just prey.” She grins at her, cooing in a way that only Minthara can—both nurturing and fierce. Her words are unconventional, but the result is immediate: Lythaera lets out a soft, happy laugh, leaning into her mother’s shoulder, clearly comforted.

“Am I a… a Banree?” Lythaera asks, her words stumbling as she tries to repeat Minthara’s.

“Yes, A Baenre,” Minthara whispers, her voice filled with pride. “You are. And no one dares cross a Baenre.” She taps Lythaera’s nose, coaxing another giggle from her, the remnants of her nightmare drifting further away with each reassuring word.

Content for now, Lythaera lets out a tiny sigh, and then, with a little tilt of her head, asks with all the innocence of a child, “Can I stay in the bed tonight, Mama and Momma?”

For a moment, you almost expect Minthara to refuse, her fierce devotion to maintaining boundaries and encouraging independence well known. But instead, her expression softens further, and she presses a kiss to Lythaera’s forehead, her voice gentle as she murmurs, “Yes, little one. Tonight, you stay with us.”

The surprise must have registered on your face, because Minthara meets your eyes with a small, almost self-conscious smile.

“Tonight, I think we can make an exception,” she murmurs quietly, as if reassuring herself as much as you. Her arms shift, and she looks down at the little girl in her embrace, brushing her cheek softly as she carries her toward the bed, settling her in carefully between the two of you.

Lythaera snuggles down, her small hands reaching out to touch each of you, her head nestled between her parents. Her fingers curl around Minthara’s sleeve on one side, and she rests her other tiny hand in yours, her breathing growing softer, her eyelids beginning to droop as she settles in with the security only the two of you can give her.

As she begins to drift off, you watch Minthara lean down, her lips brushing Lythaera’s forehead with a gentleness that belies the fierceness of her usual demeanor. She murmurs something soft, almost inaudible, but you catch the words: “My fierce little one… you’re safe. Always.”

A warm silence falls over the room, broken only by the rhythmic breathing of your sleeping daughter. Minthara’s hand reaches for yours over Lythaera’s sleeping form, her fingers entwining with yours in a gesture of shared strength and silent understanding. You feel the warmth of her touch, the unspoken devotion that seems to hang in the air between you.

For a moment, you say nothing, letting the quiet wash over you both, basking in the peaceful reprieve. You can feel Minthara’s protective energy radiating from her as she watches over Lythaera, her other hand brushing gently along her daughter’s back as if to ward off any lingering shadows of the nightmare.

You give Minthara’s hand a gentle squeeze, a silent message passed between you. She meets your gaze, her ruby eyes reflecting the same fierce loyalty and love that you feel, and in that look, you understand that this is your family. This is the strength that binds you, that keeps you grounded in even the darkest times.

Later on that day, after a particularly tense council meeting, discussing your recent.... absence, you could still feel the weight of the lingering issues swirling between you and Minthara, despite the making-up that had happened previously, it was clear Minthara still had more to do to make it up to you. Walking through the grand halls of House Baenre, the two of you made your way to the infirmary for a check-up on the baby. The rhythmic echo of your boots on the polished stone floor was almost calming as you walked side by side, your thoughts slowly shifting from politics to the life growing within you.

Minthara’s hand found yours as you walked, her fingers intertwining with yours in a rare show of tenderness. But the moment of peace was soon interrupted as the subject of Kyorlin arose, his name still hanging in the air after the council discussions.

“If he stays out of my sight, I’ll be willing to ignore the matter,” Minthara muttered, her eyes dark and unreadable. “Besides, I trust Melinoe’s already done something about it.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at her comment. “At least that’s Lesaonar’s problem now, not mine.”

Minthara snorted softly, her hand tightening on yours for just a moment before she leaned over and pressed a brief, chaste kiss to your cheek. “True enough. You should thank me more often for my generosity.”

You smiled, pausing for a second to look at her with warmth in your eyes.

“Thank you, Minthara,” you whispered, and before she could respond, you placed a soft kiss on her cheek. She stiffened slightly, glancing around the hallway with that familiar edge of paranoia.

“Don’t mention it,” she replied quickly, though the slight smile tugging at the corner of her mouth gave her away. “I don’t need people thinking I’ve gone soft.”

You chuckled softly but said nothing, knowing full well that her reputation was too fearsome for a single moment of tenderness to soften it. As you continued walking, the two of you noticed the way the servants and guards eyed you—some with open curiosity, but most with thinly veiled fear. Their eyes lingered on you, shifting from Minthara to you as though unsure of which was the greater threat.

Minthara’s smirk grew as she noticed their reactions. “Perhaps it doesn’t matter,” she remarked casually, her voice laced with amusement. “Considering I’m with you.”

You shot her a knowing glance, shaking your head. “They’re just scared of the both of us,” you teased lightly.

“Good. It’s exactly how it should be,” Minthara replied with a glint in her eye, her lips curling into a wicked grin as the two of you entered the infirmary.

Inside, the atmosphere was far quieter, the sterile scent of healing herbs and salves permeating the air. The healer greeted you both with a respectful nod, quickly guiding you to the private room where you could have your check-up in peace. Minthara stood to the side, her sharp eyes never leaving your figure as you lay down on the soft cot.

The healer worked swiftly, her gentle hands examining you as she placed the listening device over your belly. Moments passed, filled only by the rhythmic thump of your child’s heartbeat filling the room.

“The heartbeat is strong,” the healer said with a smile, nodding approvingly. “In fact, it’s never been stronger. Everything looks perfect, my lady.”

You let out a soft sigh of relief, feeling the tension you hadn’t realized was there leave your body. The reassuring thrum of your child’s heart sent a wave of calm through you. Minthara, standing beside you, gave a soft grunt of approval.

“Clearly, the baby took a liking to your little power trip earlier,” she commented dryly, her eyes narrowing as she glanced at your belly with a mix of pride and amusement. You raised an eyebrow, catching the playful spark in her tone.

“My power trip?” you echoed with mock offense. “I’d say it was more of a necessary intervention.”

Minthara smirked, her hand gently resting on your arm as she leaned down, brushing a lock of hair from your face. “Necessary or not, our child seems to have enjoyed it.”

You chuckled softly, reaching up to take her hand in yours. The two of you shared a brief moment of quiet, a sense of peace settling over you both as you felt the steady rhythm of the baby’s heartbeat echo in the room.

As the healer stepped back, giving you both some privacy, Minthara’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, a rare softness in her eyes. “You’ll make sure to keep this up, won’t you? Strong, fierce. Exactly what our child needs.”

You smiled, leaning up to press a kiss to her hand. “Of course. But maybe without slaughtering an entire clan of duegar.”

Minthara laughed softly, her hand lingering on your cheek. “We’ll see.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

At 24 weeks pregnant, you were starting to feel like your body was no longer your own. If you thought Lythaera’s pregnancy had been tough with all the kicking and discomfort, this one seemed determined to make you eat those words. The baby inside you moved constantly, its relentless shifting almost unceasing, especially at night. You felt like you barely got a moment’s rest. Every time you tried to find a comfortable position, another kick or twist would ripple through your belly, leaving you gasping or groaning in frustration.

“Minthara,” you muttered one evening as you lay in bed, clutching your swollen stomach. “I swear this child is trying to fight its way out.”

Minthara, ever your steady rock, tried to soothe you, her hands gently massaging your shoulders, though even she couldn’t hide her amusement at your predicament.

“Strong, like its mother,” she said with a chuckle, though there was a certain pride in her voice. “Our child will be a fighter, no doubt.”

You groaned, rolling your eyes as another wave of movement made your entire belly shift visibly. “A fighter? Or a terror.”

But no matter how uncomfortable or agitated you became, the healers had assured both you and Minthara that the baby was strong. In fact, they seemed almost impressed by how well the pregnancy was progressing, commenting several times on the baby's robust health.

It wasn’t just the constant movement, though—the cravings had become maddening. One moment, you were desperate for sweet pastries covered in honey; the next, only something salty or savory would do. You sent the kitchen staff scurrying all hours of the day, trying to fulfill your ever-changing whims. Lesaonar had taken to hovering in the dining hall, attempting to anticipate your requests before they even left your lips, but even he was struggling to keep up.

During a particularly intense craving, you had demanded a rare type of mushroom from the Underdark, the kind that even House Baenre didn’t keep on hand. The kitchen staff had scrambled, panicking under the pressure, until Minthara herself had gone out with a small party to retrieve it for you.

“Anything else?” she’d asked dryly when she returned, presenting the mushroom to you like a trophy.

You’d felt a pang of guilt at how much trouble you were causing, but the cravings were impossible to resist. “Maybe some more honey cakes…?”

Minthara had simply sighed and gestured for the nearest servant to comply, though her lips had twitched in amusement.

But the mood swings—those were worse than any craving. One moment, you were snapping at Lesaonar or Minthara for some perceived slight, and the next, you were practically in tears, apologizing and seeking comfort. Minthara had become more reserved, learning quickly when to speak and when to simply hold you close. Lesaonar, on the other hand, took to hiding in his study when the worst of your moods struck.

You became incredibly clingy to Minthara, following her from room to room whenever she wasn’t out on some mission. The mere thought of her leaving you for more than an hour made your heart race with anxiety. The possessiveness you felt toward Lythaera had also grown to an almost irrational degree. You refused to let her out of your sight for too long, even hovering nearby during her playtime, as if some unseen danger lurked around every corner.

One afternoon, Minthara had found you sitting in the nursery with Lythaera on your lap, idly running your fingers through her hair as you watched her play with a doll. The moment Minthara stepped into the room, you reached for her, your eyes wide and pleading.

“Stay with me,” you said softly, your voice trembling with a sudden surge of emotion. “Don’t leave.”

Minthara’s brow furrowed, but she didn’t question you. She simply walked over, kneeling beside you and wrapping her arm around your shoulders.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she assured you, her voice steady and calm.

Still, the entire house seemed to be on edge, especially as your magic began to flare up uncontrollably. Whenever your emotions spiked—whether from frustration, fear, or even joy—small bursts of magic would ripple through the air around you. Flames would briefly flicker in the hearths, or shadows would stretch unnaturally across the walls. One incident had sent a bolt of lightning cracking through the courtyard, startling the guards.

The servants and staff had taken to moving cautiously, as if afraid to trigger another magical outburst. You could feel their nervousness whenever you entered a room, but there was little you could do to control it. The pregnancy had heightened everything—your emotions, your power, your sensitivity to those around you. You had gone through an entire roster of staff, their corpses now feeding the gardens.

Minthara, however, never faltered. She remained steady and calm in the face of your erratic magic, never once showing fear or hesitation. Instead, she simply adapted, her eyes always watching you carefully, ready to step in if needed. Her presence grounded you, her touch calming the storm of emotions that constantly raged inside you.

Still, despite all the chaos—the cravings, the mood swings, the uncontrollable magic—the healers reassured you again and again that the baby was strong. The heartbeat was steady, the growth was progressing perfectly, and every sign pointed to a healthy, powerful child.

Minthara, of course, found no shortage of amusement in this.

“You see?” she teased one evening as you lay in bed together, her hand resting gently on your swollen belly. “All that power—our child clearly thrives off it. They’re already taking after you.”

“Strong, like their mother,” she repeats in that familiar, proud tone, though there’s something contemplative there too. A bit wistful, perhaps. She doesn’t voice her thoughts, but you know Minthara well enough to understand. You glance up at her, raising an eyebrow.

“Are you thinking of Lythaera?” you ask, your voice soft. She meets your gaze, momentarily surprised, but she nods, eyes drifting slightly as if picturing your daughter.

“I wonder sometimes,” she says quietly, “about whether she’ll have gifts like yours. Powers. They came so easily to you… yet with her, it’s different. She’s fierce, yes. Strong-minded, even at her age. But I don’t see that… same spark in her.”

There’s an unmistakable hint of disappointment in her tone, though you know Minthara loves Lythaera fiercely, powers or not. You reach out, placing a reassuring hand over hers.

“Lythaera’s only two,” you say, a gentle reminder. “Maybe she’s just… taking her time. Not every child exhibits magic right away, especially not one with her own wild spirit. Powers may still come to her.”

Minthara sighs, nodding, though you can see her grappling with her own high expectations.

“Even if she never does, it doesn’t change how I feel about her,” she assures you, her voice unyielding as steel. “She’ll still be fearsome—like me. No power will change that.”

Despite her certainty, her hand lingers on your stomach, where this new child, so active and spirited even before birth, seems a living symbol of raw potential. This child’s power already crackles in the air, vibrating through your magic in small, unpredictable bursts. Your curiosity bubbles up, mingling with Minthara’s clear expectations, and for a moment, you can’t resist teasing her.

“And what if it is a boy?" At this, Minthara’s scoff is almost immediate, a look of horror flashing across her face.

“If it’s a boy, let him take to the frontlines,” she says, her voice flat, though you catch the glimmer of humor in her gaze. “Let him be raised in battle. I’ll make a warrior out of him, one way or another.”

You laugh, shaking your head as another little kick ripples across your belly. Clearly the baby had some opinion in this.

“If we have a son,” you say, still amused, “it wouldn’t be so terrible if he took after Lesaonar, you know.”

You had the sense not to say Kyorlin, that might have sent Minthara over the edge. Minthara snorts, pulling her hand back in a mock display of exasperation. “More reason to send him off as soon as possible. One Lesaonar is plenty.”

You arch an eyebrow at her, thoroughly amused, though you know she cares for Lesaonar in her own way.

“So much for that sentiment of ‘I’ll love the child no matter what,’” you tease. “You’ll only love them if they’re a girl?”

Her lips quirk up in a smile, and she chuckles, unashamed. “Call me a traditionalist,” she says, shrugging one shoulder. “But let’s be honest. A daughter would do far more for House Baenre. And she’d be worthy of my protection.”

“Worthy?” you say, feigning offense as you roll over to face her more fully. “Minthara, I’ll remind you, sons are just as valuable—”

“-To the battlefield,” she interjects, her smirk growing. “To command the troops, rally the soldiers. Yes, valuable there. But as my heir?” She shakes her head, her eyes narrowing, still playful but with an edge of seriousness. “My preference is clear.”

The laughter dies down, leaving a comfortable quiet in its place. Despite her bold declarations, Minthara’s hand is gentle as it finds your belly once more, fingers brushing over your skin. Her expression softens, and her eyes, so often sharp and calculating, turn reverent as she watches the subtle movements beneath her touch.

“This one will be strong,” she says, her voice full of certainty. “Boy or girl, powers or not… I have no doubt. They’re going to be fierce, like you and I. I can feel it.”

You let out a contented sigh, feeling the intensity of her gaze on your belly, and you rest your hand over hers, feeling the warmth and strength of her steady presence.

At a luncheon with Lesaonar, you regaled him with Minthara's sentiments about the unborn child and were met with the same overdramatic offence that you predicted.

"Oh the Matron thinks so little of me? Of our kind? I would like to point out that I am the reason she got you back, that I was her salvation."

"Would you like to say that to her face?"

"I would rather not."

The triplets, thankfully, were out with Melinoe, giving the house a much-needed break from their boundless energy. Lythaera, still young enough to demand constant attention, was sitting on Lesaonar’s lap, her little fingers playing with the edge of his tunic as she babbled happily. Lesaonar, as usual, indulged her every whim, bouncing her gently on his knee while pretending to listen to her endless stream of toddler talk.

He chuckled, looking down at Lythaera with a fond smile. “You know, I miss when the triplets were this squishy,” he mused aloud, his voice taking on a wistful tone. “Maybe Melinoe and I should have another baby…”

You raised an eyebrow, trying not to laugh as you took a sip of your drink. “Another baby? What if she has triplets again?”

Lesaonar paused, the playful smile still on his lips, but there was a momentary flicker of thought behind his eyes as he pondered that possibility.

“It would be fine,” he said, with the calm confidence that only a parent who had already survived raising three at once could muster. “We’ve done it once before. I’m sure we could handle it again.”

Just as you were about to respond, the door burst open, and the triplets themselves came barreling into the room, their laughter and shouts echoing off the walls like a whirlwind of chaos. Sarae, Lira, and Viroen were in the midst of some sort of elaborate game, darting between chairs and tables, their quick, nimble bodies moving with the fluidity of well-practiced mischief.

Despite the sudden onslaught of noise and energy, Lesaonar remained unruffled, a bemused smile playing on his lips as he continued bouncing Lythaera on his lap. He gestured to the triplets to calm down, though his tone held no real authority.

“Alright, alright, settle down,” he said, though the fondness in his voice made it clear he wasn’t truly upset by their boisterous entrance.

You, on the other hand, let out a sigh of exhaustion just from watching them. “And you think you want more of this?”

Lesaonar chuckled, meeting your gaze with a teasing glint in his eye.

“Maybe just one more,” he said, though the way his eyes lit up at the sight of his children made it clear he wouldn’t mind if there were a dozen more. Minthara would likely laugh at his enthusiasm—though she had become far more attached to your own children than you could have ever predicted, even she would balk at the idea of a house filled with even more rowdy drowlings. After all with the Underdark's survival rate, you could understand the sentiment - you all had been so lucky so far, that none of your children had yet met with an untimely fate.

As the triplets continued to run circles around the room, their energy seemingly boundless, Lesaonar leaned back in his chair, still holding Lythaera with ease.

“See?” he said, smiling up at you. “No problem at all.”

You rolled your eyes at his optimism but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. Even in the midst of chaos, there was a certain comfort in the noise, in the joy that filled the house when the children were around. Despite all the challenges, you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

You exchanged a look with Lesaonar, raising an eyebrow as you tried to make sense of their commotion.

“What’s all this about?” you asked, your curiosity piqued. Lythaera, still bouncing on Lesaonar’s lap, clapped her tiny hands together, delighted by the triplets’ energy but equally confused.

“So loud!” she babbled in her broken toddler speech, giggling as she looked from you to them.

Viroen shot his sisters a quick, nervous glance, clearly wanting to say something but holding back. Sarae was biting her lip, her eyes sparkling with the effort it took not to blurt out whatever they were excited about.

“We can’t say!” Sarae finally squeaked, her hands practically vibrating with anticipation. “Not until Mama catches up.”

The three of them exchanged furtive glances, their excitement bubbling over but held back by some unspoken pact. It was clear they were on the verge of spilling whatever good news they were holding, but none of them wanted to break the rule. Lesaonar smirked, his lips curling up in amusement as he looked at you.

“Perhaps my wish is coming true sooner than expected,” he mused, his tone teasing but his eyes glinting with a sense of foreboding excitement.

Just as you opened your mouth to prod the children further, the door to the courtyard swung open, and there she was—Melinoe, striding in with a wide smile, her eyes gleaming with pride. Lira, in particular, straightened up at the sight of her mother, as if awaiting some sort of cue.

“There she is!” Melinoe announced triumphantly as she entered the room, her voice carrying a deep sense of satisfaction. She marched over to where the triplets stood and grabbed Lira by the shoulders, pulling her to the front as Sarae and Viroen flanked their sister, looking positively ecstatic.

“Well?” Lesaonar asked, his gaze shifting between his wife and children, now more intrigued than ever.

Melinoe, still beaming, looked directly at Lesaonar and you, her grip on Lira tightening as if to present her to the family. “Lira had her first kill today.”

There was a brief pause as the weight of those words settled in the room, and then the meaning struck. Lesaonar’s eyes widened in delighted surprise, and you felt a rush of pride wash over you. In drow culture, a child’s first kill was a monumental moment, a rite of passage that was celebrated by the entire house. It was not just a mark of growing strength but also a step toward proving their place within the hierarchy of society.

Melinoe, clearly basking in the moment, continued, her voice swelling with pride. “An older girl was picking on Viroen. They got into a brawl, but Lira finished it—dealt the killing blow - dagger to the temple.”

Lira, who had been standing as still as she could manage in her mother’s grip, now looked up with a mix of awe and excitement, her wide eyes gleaming with the thrill of her accomplishment. You could see how much this moment meant to her, a defining milestone in her young life. Lesaonar’s face lit up with pure joy as he pulled Lira into his arms, lifting her off her feet in a fierce embrace.

“My little warrior!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with unrestrained pride. “I’m so proud of you!”

Lira blushed deeply, overwhelmed by the praise but also clearly enjoying it. Her two siblings watched, their own faces beaming with pride for their sister.

You stepped forward, placing a hand on Lira’s shoulder with a smile. “Congratulations, Lira. Your aunt Minthara will be very proud of you when she hears. This is a moment to celebrate—a true House Baenre warrior.”

You could see Lira's eyes widen even further at the mention of Minthara’s name. The legendary warrior had always been her idol, and knowing that Minthara would hear of her accomplishment clearly meant everything to her.

“We’ll have a feast tonight to honor this moment,” you added. “The entire house will celebrate your victory.”

Lira’s face was aglow with excitement and pride, but when you mentioned Minthara’s admiration, she practically looked starstruck.

“Aunt Minthara will really be proud?” she asked, her voice small and awe-filled.

You chuckled and nodded. “Of course, she will. You’ve done something worthy of a warrior, Lira. Minthara will be the first to celebrate you.”

Lira smiled so brightly it was as if she might burst with happiness. Minthara’s approval clearly meant more to her than anything else. Lesaonar, unable to contain his joy, laughed as he set Lira down and pulled Melinoe into his arms, kissing her fiercely as if he couldn’t help but share in the celebration.

“Our little girl’s growing up,” he said, his voice filled with both pride and fondness.

Melinoe laughed softly, her arms wrapping around him. “She’s definitely going to give us a run for our money.”

You knelt down to Lira's level, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Would you like to come with me to tell Aunt Minthara the good news?” you asked softly.

Lira’s eyes widened with excitement, and she eagerly nodded her head, her dark hair bouncing with the motion.

“Yes, Auntie! I want to tell her!” she replied, almost vibrating with anticipation.

Smiling warmly, you extended your hand, which she took without hesitation, and the two of you set off down the halls of House Baenre. As you walked together, you noticed Lira stealing glances at you, as if processing the enormity of what had happened that day.

After a few moments, Lira finally spoke, her voice hushed but filled with pride.

“It was Viroen… He was minding his own business, but this older girl… she was vile, Auntie. She said nasty things, and I could see Viroen’s face getting all scrunched up. I didn’t like it. So, I told her to stop.” Lira’s voice grew stronger as she continued, recounting the events in vivid detail. “Then she shoved him! And I couldn’t let that happen. Sarae jumped in first, managed to get a few good hits in but I—I knew I had to end it, Auntie. So, I did. And I used the dagger that Mother got me last year and I would do it again.”

You listened intently, nodding as she spoke, her tiny hand gripping yours tightly. When she finished, you smiled down at her, pride swelling in your chest. “You did the right thing, Lira. I’m especially proud of you for looking after Viroen. It’s important to protect your brother, especially in our world.”

Lira looked up at you, her eyes wide and serious, as if she were absorbing the gravity of your words.

“But why? Why Viroen?” she asked, genuinely curious.

You sighed softly, thinking carefully about how to explain it to her. “In our world, Lira, boys like Viroen can be targets. He’s strong, but us ladies are stronger and people might see him as weak because he’s kind and caring. You, Sarae, and the others—you’ll always need to protect him. Just like I protected your papa when we were young.”

Lira’s eyes narrowed in determination as she absorbed your words.

“I’ll always protect Viroen,” she vowed fiercely. “And Sarae, and everyone in the house. I won’t let anyone hurt them.”

Her promise made your heart swell with pride, and you couldn’t help but smile down at her. “That’s a good promise, little one. Just remember, you don’t always have to fight to protect them—but when you do, make sure you’re ready, like you were today.”

The two of you continued your walk in silence for a moment, and soon you found yourselves approaching Minthara’s quarters. As you neared, you felt Lira’s small hand tighten in yours. You glanced down at her and noticed that the excitement from earlier had given way to a nervous anticipation. She idolized Minthara, and now, having earned the right to tell her about her first kill, it was as though the weight of her achievement was finally sinking in.

“Are you nervous?” you asked gently.

Lira looked up at you with wide eyes and nodded, biting her lip. “A little… What if Aunt Minthara isn’t proud of me?”

You stopped for a moment, kneeling down to look her in the eyes. “Lira, of course, she’ll be proud. You did something amazing today. You showed courage, strength, and the ability to protect your family. Minthara will see all of that.”

Taking a deep breath, Lira nodded again, squaring her shoulders as she prepared herself. You stood and continued walking toward Minthara’s quarters, and as you reached the door, you knocked softly. A moment later, Minthara’s voice called out from within.

“Come in.”

You pushed open the door, and the two of you stepped inside. Minthara was standing near the window, her posture relaxed but her sharp eyes immediately focusing on the two of you. The air shifted subtly, and you could feel the weight of her gaze as she assessed the situation.

“What’s going on?” Minthara asked, her voice calm but curious as she looked between you and Lira. You gently nudged Lira forward.

“Lira has something important to tell you,” you prompted softly.

Lira swallowed nervously, her hands bunching up in the fabric of her dress as she looked up at her idol. Her voice was small but steady as she spoke. “Matron, uh-Aunt Minthara… I had my first kill today.”

For a moment, there was silence. Minthara’s sharp eyes softened as she took in the words, and slowly, she knelt down to Lira’s level, her expression shifting into one of pride.

“Is that so?” she said softly, her tone filled with a warmth you didn’t often hear from her in the presence of others. “Tell me about it.”

Lira’s eyes sparkled as she recounted the events of the day, her voice gaining confidence as she explained how she had protected Viroen and finished the fight. Minthara listened carefully, her gaze never wavering from Lira’s face. When the story was finished, Minthara smiled—a rare, genuine smile that made Lira’s eyes widen in awe.

“You made House Baenre proud today, Lira,” Minthara said, her voice filled with quiet pride. “You protected your family and showed the strength of your bloodline. That’s all we can ever ask of you.”

Lira’s lip trembled slightly as if she were about to cry, overwhelmed by Minthara’s praise. You nudged Minthara lightly, whispering, “Hug her.”

Without hesitation, Minthara leaned forward and wrapped Lira in a rare embrace, pulling her close. Lira melted into her aunt’s arms, clearly overjoyed to receive such affection from someone she admired so deeply. After a moment, Minthara pulled back, her hands resting on Lira’s shoulders.

“Now,” she said, her voice taking on a slightly more commanding tone, “I want you to run to the kitchen and tell them what you want for your feast tonight. This is your night to celebrate.”

Lira beamed up at her and nodded eagerly, wiping away the few tears that had escaped.

“Okay, Aunt Minthara!” she said, her voice filled with newfound confidence. "And uh thank you, Matron."

As Lira turned to leave, giving a little bow of respect to Minthara, you watched her dash off down the hall, her small figure disappearing as she made her way to the kitchen. Once she was out of sight, you turned to Minthara, a smile playing on your lips.

“You handled that well,” you teased lightly. Minthara raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly as she stood up.

“I’m not entirely heartless,” she replied, though her tone was laced with amusement. “But don’t tell anyone. I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”

You chuckled, leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Minthara watched Lira disappear down the hallway, a thoughtful expression on her face. Once the door clicked shut behind the girl, she turned to you, her arms crossing over her chest.

"I have to say," she began, "Lira impressed me today. She has a lot of potential—more than I expected at this stage."

You couldn’t help but smile, warmth blooming in your chest at the praise for your niece.

“She really does,” you agreed softly, before catching the knowing glint in Minthara’s eye.

“Though,” Minthara continued, raising a brow, “this does mean that Lythaera will have to get her first kill in before six.”

You rolled your eyes immediately, sighing in exasperation. “Minthara, it’s not a competition.”

She shrugged casually, her lips curving into a smirk. “I know, I know,” she said, lifting her hands in mock surrender. “But still… I got my first kill at four.”

There it was—the inevitable boast. You could only groan, lightly scolding her with a playful glare.

“Of course you did,” you said with a sigh. “But you do realize I’m not letting that slide, right?”

Minthara raised an eyebrow, curious but still grinning. “Oh? And what, pray tell, could possibly beat the age of four?”

Smirking, you leaned closer, your voice teasing. “Eighteen months.”

Minthara’s eyes widened in disbelief, her mouth parting as if to demand more details. “Eighteen months? How in the Nine Hells—”

With a flourish, you lifted your hand, and between your fingertips, thin, shimmering strands of divine silk began to form, weaving and twisting effortlessly. The threads glimmered with an otherworldly light, delicate yet powerful, radiating the unmistakable touch of magic far beyond your control. You held them up for Minthara to see.

“Uncontrollable powers,” you said, smiling triumphantly. “Turns out, if you get a bit too emotional as a toddler, things like this happen.”

Minthara's disbelief melted into an exaggerated pout as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“That’s not fair,” she muttered, though her amusement was obvious in the corner of her eyes.

You laughed softly, unable to resist teasing her. “Oh, so now it’s unfair? Seems like someone’s being a sore loser.”

Minthara narrowed her eyes, mimicking your earlier words with mock sternness. “‘It’s not a competition,’ remember?”

You both shared a look before bursting into laughter, the tension of the past few days evaporating between you. There was something peaceful, even comforting, about this light banter—something that reminded you of the deep connection you shared, far beyond any power or rank.

The two of you basked in the easy silence, enjoying the closeness of the moment. Minthara's hand slid around your waist, pulling you closer to her as you leaned into her side, the weight of your pregnancy pressing gently between you. For a brief time, everything felt perfect, simple, and free from the responsibilities of leadership.

That is, until the baby suddenly kicked—hard—against your ribs. You gasped, clutching your side as the sensation hit, your body jolting at the unexpected force.

Minthara's eyes darted to your belly, her hand immediately resting against it, both concern and amusement flickering across her features. “Strong, aren’t they?”

You took a moment to recover, rubbing the spot where the baby had kicked, and shot her a wry smile. “You know, I wouldn’t be surprised if this little one gets their first kill straight out of the womb.”

"I pity the healers that attend them when they do." Minthara smiles, she pulls you forward and pressed a kiss on your forehead. You sighed contently, sagging your shoulders in relaxtion, only a few more months and the little one would be in your arms. You could only hope that they would be patient enough to wait that long.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

A very wholesome chapter for y'all after the last chapter, I know some people were sad that there wasn't pregnancy content for lythaera, hence why this one is a bit more focused on it. I was also cackling whilst writing the cockblocking scene, poor minthara.

I hope you all enjoyed it, please let me know your thoughts and theories down below. I really love reading them and they are such amazing motivators for this series! Love you all! - Seluney xox

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