#The old fic was made on an impulse and back when I started working on fics and wasnt as passionate about fics as I am today

[alittlesongbirdchirps]

JUST ONE MORE TEAR TO CRY AU

(I saw a new lantern core and was, like yes sorrow sounds like Tim lol.)   Tim Drake becomes a lantern, not just any lantern, a sorrow lantern. To save Bruce, he sacrificed everything, and he lost Robin. He knew deep down this would be his last mission as a red robin, as a robin, maybe even a bat. The league didn’t believe him. He tried to hand the USB with everything they pushed it away, saying he needed help.   “No please.” He begged, but they only gave him pity, and he couldn’t do this without them. He doesn’t have the power, nor does he have the resources. He leaves more like escapes, and now he is sitting in an old abandoned warehouse not knowing what to do everything he did seemed pointless, hopeless he couldn’t do his job and save Batman, save Bruce and he lost Superboy, impulse he couldn’t even say their names, everything was taken from him everything he worked hard for and this USB with everything to prove Bruce is alive and how to rescue him wasn’t even looked at.   His tears fall soundlessly as he grapples with frustration and a deepening sorrow over at the thought of how close he was to saving Bruce, only to be startled by his father’s ring he kept on him to remind him of his failure to save his father, which begins to steam. The steam begins to expand filling up the room and when it dissipates, his father's ring is now on his finger, transformed into a grey colour, he stares down in confusion but something else is also all he can feel is deep sorrow not only that his outfit has changed its completely grey and when he reaches for his face; it feels as if covered. It doesn’t take him long to figure out he must be in some type of lantern situation, but he’s never seen a lantern ring like this and he’s pretty certain rings come to their holders, not made by them. Silent tears stream down his face underneath the bandana, as he stares at the USB all he can think of is everything that’s ever made him sad it’s so painful, he’s clutching his chest but he can’t give up he has to get it to the only person who will actually look at it and make sure the league looks at it too. So he flies, he flies into the air. It should be so thrilling, but it’s not. He has the USB in hand and makes his way to the warehouse. He knows he will be in. Unfortunately, he’s not here at the. Moment that’s okay, he floats down and places it on the desk before hearing the cocking of a gun and a familiar voice yell at him. “Who the fuck are you and what are you doing in my warehouse?”   Tim turns around slowly. It takes a moment for Jason to realise who it is standing in front of him. “Tim?” He asks in disbelief, in doubt. He tries to go towards him, but before he can, Tim just floats up and away. He can hear Jason call his name sounding panicked.   (After Jason reviews the USB, makes the league look at it, and makes sure to retrieve the tape from when Tim was in the warehouse before showing Dick who is currently Batman as well as Alfred, bringing up his concerns to the pair. It temp put on the back burner when Bruce is back not wanting to worry the man. Oh also, in this AU Tim’s gonna be the first sorrow lantern. Oh and I promise Im gonna start writing fics instead of just little drabbles of AU lol so questions for any AU or ideas send them my way.)   ALSO NOT EDITED AGAIN.

[cecilysass]

Beacon (2/6)

Read on AO3 | Tagging @today-in-fic and my poangpal @libbytxf

“And where did you say you saw this?” Scully is distracted, briskly unpacking her suit jackets, quickly pivoting between the suitcase on her bed to the modest closet.

“In the hall,” Mulder says impatiently. “Outside the room, like I said. Come on, Scully,” he urges. “Let’s go sit out there for a while and wait. Let’s see if she comes back.”

Scully gives him a look. “Mulder,” she says, like she’s trying to be patient, “we made an eight hour drive today. It’s seven-thirty, and we haven’t eaten. I propose we find some dinner and get some sleep. Ghosts can wait until morning.”

Mulder resists an urge to groan. “I take it you don’t believe me.”

“That you saw a ghost?” Scully widens her eyes in flat disbelief, folding one of the previously discussed sweaters. “Of course I don’t. I think you probably saw another guest going into her room, and you’re just … overtired from the drive.”

“Overtired? I’m not a five year old, Scully,” Mulder says, irritated. “She spoke directly to me. I very clearly observed her. I know what I saw.”

“She spoke to you?” Scully looks up in mild interest, then begins putting folded items in dresser drawers. “What did she say?”

He gnaws on his lip, feeling strangely self-conscious. “Uh, something about, ‘Come to me… my love,’” he mumbles.

Scully raises her eyebrows in amusement. “Pretty intimate, Mulder,” she says, folding another shirt. “Do you know this ghost?”

“It doesn’t sound like something a random living guest would just … say to a stranger, does it?”

She shrugs with a tiny smile. “Maybe the guest found you attractive. Maybe some nice lady was inviting you into her room.”

He feels the tips of his ears growing very warm, but smiles in an attempt to appear unruffled. “Well, admittedly it’s been a while, but I'm pretty sure you scare people off when you start talking about love right out of the gate.”

She shuts the dresser drawer and turns around to face him, folding her arms. “So is what you saw consistent with what this ghost is said to be like, Mulder? From the reports and the stories?”

He shifts positions uncomfortably. The truth is that he doesn’t know. He is much less informed than usual about the details of this case. He’d seized on this impulsively, based on Scully’s state of mind, and he didn’t take the time to do his normal deep dive into research beyond what was in the file. He didn't really read anything about the history of the inn.

“I’m not sure,” Mulder says. “I’m a little light on details, like I said, until we talk to Duncan.”

She fixes him with a searching look. “All right. Then let’s wait and talk to him,” she says.

Mulder huffs. “May I remind you that what we do know about this case is that people who reported seeing this ghost were dead from heart failure within the week?”

He’d think maybe she would want to check him out as his doctor at the very least—express some concern for his well-being—but she’s not even looking his way now. He feels petulant, even though he knows that Scully simply doesn’t believe in ghosts who can cause hearts to stop. That’s who Scully is.

“Yes, and speaking of, I had a thought about that,” she says, pulling her shoes out of the suitcase. “I was going to take some samples of the piles of renovation materials outside and send them to a lab. I was wondering if maybe some of the building materials being used might be aggravating pre-existing heart conditions in some guests.”

“Really?” Mulder thinks this over. “So… guests stay here, they inhale some dust or something, and it causes a heart attack?”

“Only if they had some unknown underlying cardiac issues already,” Scully says. “So it wouldn’t be that common—it would only affect a select few. This isn’t completely unknown in the literature. It seems like a possibility worth looking into, anyway.”

“Hmm,” agrees Mulder. “Yes. If the timing works out. If the renovations were happening at the same time as the deaths.”

“That’s the kind of thing we’re here to investigate, right?” Scully says with a wry smile. “Why they put the I in FBI and all that?”

She’s moving briskly back and forth from her suitcase, all energy, all purpose. And it hits him: he didn’t notice it before in his excitement over seeing the ghost, but Scully is in a much better mood. She’s practically bustling. A little flirty, a little argumentative, a spring in her step, a theory on the tip of her tongue.

The case has her, he thinks. Being in the field has her. He knew this was a good idea, even if it has already put him in the crosshairs of a murderous ghost.

“The toxic dust wouldn’t explain the ghost sightings,” he points out to her, in part because it’s true and in part because he craves her engagement again.

“No,” she admits, “it wouldn’t. But we’ll have to wait until tomorrow to learn anything else.” She points a firm finger towards him. “No ghost hunting tonight, Mulder.”

“Fine,” he acquiesces, raising his hands in surrender. “Fine.”

He sees her pull what certainly looks like some lacy scraps of underwear out of the suitcase. His eyes track hungrily as she places them in the drawer, and then he quickly looks away so she doesn’t notice him watching.

There is a moment’s pause. He quietly clears his throat.

“What are we doing for dinner?” he asks.

“Banoy said there was pizza delivery.” She looks at him hopefully, shutting the drawer. “Pizza in your room in 30 minutes?”

“It’s a date,” he says lightly. ***

They eat the pizza sitting side by side on his bed, looking out the large window into the black Vermont woods. Lamplight outside bounces off the falling snowflakes, each one flickering and sputtering against the dark canvas of the night. Mulder tells her a ghost story he remembers from the Vineyard, one about a whaling captain’s widow. She listens and rolls her eyes in the right places.

He walks her back to her door—just to be safe. She gives him a strange, bemused look as he does. Maybe because it’s exactly a three step walk.

That night he dreams of Scully with a flashlight in a field on a snowy night, Scully cracking jokes with flushed cheeks in the light of the moon, Scully calling out his name with snowflakes all around her. “Come with me, Mulder. How I miss you.” ***

“So you’re here to learn about our ghost,” Banoy says eagerly, pouring coffee at the stone counter. “All the way from Washington. All the way from the F.B.I..”

In the morning they meet Duncan and Banoy in the inn’s large and airy country kitchen. There is a breakfast nook with a round table and a cushioned bench seat surrounded by windows. Scully gazes admiringly at her surroundings as she sits down. Some of her best memories are of time spent in comfortable, cheerful kitchens like this. She thinks of cooking for the holidays in her grandmother’s large kitchen in California with all her female family members: mother, aunts, grandmother, cousin. Sister.

This kitchen is filled with bright white winter sunshine, the kind of light that has a pure, clear quality, like it was refracted through ice. She glances at Mulder’s face as he slides in next to her on the bench. His expression is serious, and the diffuse light gives him an ethereal look.

“I have lots of questions, as a matter of fact,” Mulder says.

“But we’re actually here to investigate the three deaths,” Scully corrects Banoy, trying to steer the conversation on track. Actual human deaths, not ghost stories. “Three deaths in six months, correct?”

“Yes,” Duncan says sadly, setting a platter of pastry in front of them on the table. “And it’s never happened like this before, has it, Banoy? I can’t understand it. That’s why I called you.”

“Maybe it’s not connected,” Banoy says, setting their coffee down on the table. “I have always said that. Maybe the deaths and the ghost are just a coincidence.”

“I’d like to talk through the deaths,” Scully says. “When did the first—”

“I saw her,” Mulder interrupts her, leaning urgently towards Duncan. “Last night, almost as soon as we arrived. Is that common? Do all guests see her?”

“Saw …?”

“The ghost,” Mulder says eagerly.

Well, Scully thinks with some irritation, there goes our opportunity to cling to the illusion of professionalism.

“Did you?” Duncan says, visibly taken aback.

Banoy smiles sympathetically and leans over to fluff Mulder’s hair. “Oh, you sweet boy.”

Scully frowns, failing to understand this reaction.

“What does that mean?” Mulder says, his eyes darting between the two men, apparently equally bewildered.

“Nobody’s explained about our Hero? Who she visits?”

“No,” Mulder says. “All we know is that she’s allegedly visited some people who later died of cardiac arrest.”

“No, no,” Duncan says, taking off his glasses to wipe them on his shirt. “She has been appearing for years. Decades. Long before the heart failures.”

“Hero is her name?”

“It’s what she called herself,” Duncan says. “Her real name was a mouthful, Sophronia Younge, a daughter of one of the town’s founders. The family built the original house we’re in, although it was expanded in the later nineteenth century to its current size and layout, of course.”

“And Hero has appeared to others?” Mulder asks, a crease deepening between his eyes.

“Well, not just to anyone…” Banoy says, winking at Mulder.

“By legend, she only appears to the lovelorn,” Duncan says. “Only those who hold deep and abiding love, like Hero did in life herself. You’re sure you haven’t heard this? It’s a reasonably famous local story.”

Scully’s gaze had been shifting out the window, to study the bird’s eye view of the town’s streets, but now her head swivels and her eyes lock on Mulder. She finds herself very curious to see his reaction.

“No, I had not,” Mulder says, raising his eyebrows. He straightens his posture in the seat, shifting uncomfortably. “But I’m a single guy, so she’s obviously wrong in this case.”

“Is she?” Banoy says.

“I’ve never heard of her being wrong,” Duncan says, amused.

“It’s not about being single,” Banoy says. “Single people can have longing in their heart. No lucky lady you pine for, Agent Mulder? Or man?”

“Sorry,” Mulder says with a tight smile. “I’m going to prove a pretty disappointing romantic hero.”

He picks up a piece of pastry and shifts his full attention to taking a bite.

Feeling inexplicably discomfited herself, Scully lets her eyes wander back to the window. The town’s streets are visible down the hill, and she can see two children marching down the road, dragging toboggans across the newly fallen snow. She stares at them like they are suddenly very interesting.

She knows Mulder has dated women before, and she even saw him interact once with an old paramour. But it’s hard for her to imagine him pining. It’s hard to imagine him giving that much thought to anything besides work, honestly. She can’t imagine him thinking about anything besides the Truth, besides some esoteric case he’s read about, about some work-related puzzle.

She tries to imagine him sitting at his desk thinking about a romantic partner with those kind of feelings. Or waiting in his apartment, sitting on his couch eager to see someone, eager for someone to come over.

The idea of him wanting someone—of having some walled-up secret desire—well, it unsettles her. It makes her ache to think of it, something so human and vulnerable inside of him that he’s intentionally holding back. Probably it’s because she isn’t used to thinking of him as an ordinary man, she tells herself.

Being so close to the windows gives her a little chill, makes goosebumps rise. She rubs her arms to warm them.

“Of course now you should be careful,” adds Duncan, his tone growing serious. “It used to be that seeing Hero was just fun, just local color. But it’s become so dangerous.”

“How’s your cardiac health, Agent Mulder?” queries Banoy.

“What do you mean?” Scully says, her attention now fully engaged.

“That’s exactly why I called you,” Duncan says. “Because lately people have … perished after seeing her. At least some people.”

“You should tell us all you know,” Scully insists.

“Starting with Hero?”

“Yes,” Scully says, making quick affirmative eye contact with Mulder, who looks stunned. “Starting with Hero.” ***

Her name wasn’t Hero. Her name was Sophronia, from the Greek for wisdom. Her father was a scholar, a classicist like all good 18th century educated men. He must have been some sort of eccentric to end up in Vermont, which was the frontier back then, but he was well-to-do enough to get some land and farm and start the town. At one point, Duncan tells them, their house—this inn—was the biggest, most impressive in the region.

Duncan recounts this with the precision and storytelling flair of an amateur historian, pausing to wipe his glasses with care.

“This is where the story becomes more local legend and less history,” he says. “Sophronia had a lover, a young man. But legend holds that her father disapproved, and so Sophronia had no choice but to meet her lover secretly. When she wrote him letters, she called herself ‘Hero’ and her lover ‘Leander.’ You know. Like the famous lovers in mythology who couldn’t be together.”

“I don’t recall that myth, as a matter of fact,” Scully says. She glances at Mulder, who is not asking the many questions he’d initially claimed to have. He’s listening, but his face is stone.

“Oh, it’s a tragic one,” Banoy says. “The ancient Greek lady Hero lives in a tower on an island, and her beloved Leander swims across the sea at midnight to meet her. She puts a beacon light in the window so he can find his way. But one night the light goes out, poof, and Leander is lost in the stormy sea. Hero is wracked with grief and throws herself out the window to join him in a watery grave soon after.”

“A beacon light,” Mulder says, speaking for the first time in a while. “Like the name of the inn?”

Duncan shrugs with a smile. “The drama of this story has been good business for us,” he says. His expression grows serious. “Until the deaths, that is.”

“So what happened?” Scully wonders. She gestures to the town and snowy Vermont landscape outside the window. “There’s no stormy sea here.”

“Well,” Duncan says, “somehow Sophronia’s father found out about her carrying on with her own personal Leander, and he kicked her out. Sometimes you hear he kicked her out in a snowstorm, but more often, it’s mild weather, which makes more sense given what happens next.”

“Just tell them the story,” Banoy urges with an eyeroll. “You say I’m the dramatic one.”

“The following morning, the two of them are found, Sophronia and her lover—Hero and Leander—drowned in the center of town. Soaking wet and completely dead, caught tragically in one another’s arms.”

“When you tasted the water saturating her dress,” Banoy says theatrically, “it was salty, even though we are seventy miles from the sea.”

There’s a pause, as though Duncan and Banoy are waiting for their tale to be fully appreciated by their audience. Scully clears her throat impatiently.

“A compelling story,” she says, “but what about the ghost?”

“Oh, well, ever since, people have occasionally seen Hero in the inn,” Duncan says. “Sophronia, really, although we always refer to her as Hero. She traditionally appears to people in love, and she speaks to them like they’re her Leander. It was a common ghost story, growing up here in Hellespont. In those days, members of the old family still lived in this house.”

“You’re from Hellespont originally?” Scully asks.

“Yes, I’m a local,” Duncan says. He looks around the kitchen with a look of wonder on his face. “I grew up adoring this house from afar. Used to sit on my bike outside and stare at it as a kid, make up fantasies about it. Eight years ago, Banoy and I were living in California, and I heard this place was up for sale. By that time, I had the money we didn’t have when I was a kid. I couldn’t resist coming back to make it ours.”

“We couldn’t resist,” Banoy adds softly. “A historic inn in Vermont? Please, it’s like living in White Christmas.” He smiles adoringly at Duncan. “With my very own Bing Crosby.”

Duncan smiles back at Banoy and reaches out to take his hand. Scully feels a pang of something that she worries might be envy.

“At first, some members of the Younge family—the descendants—were somewhat … hostile to us moving in,” Duncan says. “You know, years of the original family owning the place… and then a kid from a nobody family and his gay Filipino lover move in to make a bed and breakfast. Not everyone’s favorite thing. But … I think they’ve warmed up to us now. Don’t you, Banoy?”

Banoy smiles thinly and shrugs. Scully makes a mental note to follow up on that—local resentment of current inn owners. “Tell us about the deaths,” she says.

“The first was maybe six months ago,” Duncan says. “Right, Banoy? The beginning of summer. June. That first one was Austin Spantikow, a young man, in his twenties, vacationing with a girl he was looking to impress.”

“They started talking about seeing Hero at breakfast the first day. We teased them about his feelings,” Banoy says regretfully. “We thought it was cute.”

“Two days later we called for an ambulance, but it was too late,” Duncan says. “He was so young. No previously known heart problems. But if it had just been that one incident, we wouldn’t have thought anything about it. We definitely wouldn’t have thought Hero and his death were related.”

“I’m still not sure Hero and the deaths are related,” Banoy sniffs. “I’ve said it a thousand times. The other two people who died didn’t mention seeing her.”

“Mr. Knight, Jim, a guest in his fifties, staying here on a fishing trip to give his wife some space. Elena Denney, thirtysomething, who was talking to someone online the whole time she was here for a girls’ weekend,” Duncan continues. “Both of them dead within a few days – almost exactly the same situation as Mr. Spantikow. No prior heart conditions, found in their beds already unconscious by our staff.”

“Has anyone else mentioned seeing Hero?” Mulder says.

“A local couple, Gary and Pam Kromkowski, stayed here for a romantic night at Halloween,” Duncan says. “They claimed they saw her, too, and they left with no incident. But … Gary proposed that night, and I wondered if saying they saw the ghost just made for a good engagement story.”

Scully nods, making a mental note of that.

“Did any of the victims report seeing anything else unusual? Besides the ghost?” Scully asks. “Anything else that you might say would qualify as a hallucination?”

Duncan and Banoy look at one another, squinting in thought. “No,” Duncan says. “I can’t remember anything like that.”

“Me neither,” Banoy agrees. “And Mr. Knight and Ms. Denny, we don’t know for sure that they saw the ghost.”

Duncan has still been holding Banoy’s hand, and Scully sees him squeeze it. “It’s been upsetting, of course,” he says. “We love this place. We don’t want anything like this associated with it.” Banoy places his hand on Duncan’s forearm comfortingly.

“Please forgive me for asking such a potentially personal question,” Mulder says suddenly, his face very serious, “but have you seen Hero?”

There’s a pause as the two men look at one another again. “No,” Banoy says mournfully. “And we don’t know why.” Duncan shakes his head.

“Maybe she’s homophobic,” Duncan suggests with a shrug.

“Bigoted 18th century bitch,” Banoy adds wryly.

“I have another theory, too,” Duncan says. “I personally believe she doesn’t appear to people who are happily partnered, reciprocally in love. I think she appears to people who are yearning. You know. Looking across the water for the beacon.”

“Unrequited,” Banoy agrees with a judicious nod.

Mulder nods distractedly. Then, unexpectedly, he stands up.

“Mulder…?” Scully begins.

Without warning, he spins on his heel and walks out of the kitchen. Scully and the two men sit behind staring blankly after him.

“Oh no,” Banoy says in a hushed voice. “Did we… strike a nerve?”

Duncan turns to Banoy. “God, what if he had a recent break-up or something?”

“We’re over here practically saying he’s unloved,” Banoy says, shaking his head.

“I apologize.” Duncan turns to Scully. “I sometimes say too much.”

“No, no,” Scully says inadequately, “he doesn’t … no. No recent break-up.”

“He just seemed upset,” Banoy says.

Scully suddenly feels a bubble of frustration well up inside of her. How typical, for Mulder to be upset for reasons she doesn’t entirely understand, by a ghost story, of all things. No doubt there’s more to this story she didn’t know in advance that has caused him only to rush off to some unknown location.

“It’s just how he is,” she explains. “He’s … an unusual man.” Her voice sounds more exasperated than she expects.

“Hmm,” Banoy says, nodding at her appraisingly.

Swallowing back her annoyance, she makes her apologies and goes to search for Mulder.

She can’t think of where he could have possibly gone, and she has a well-earned suspicion he might have gone off investigating on his own, possibly seeking out his precious ghost.

But she rounds the corner from the kitchen to find him standing in the living room, staring at the open door that leads to the staircase, his expression frozen.

“Mulder?” she says.

He doesn’t move or respond, like he’s been hypnotized.

“Mulder.”

He startles, swiveling to face her suddenly. His face is ashen.

“Hey,” she says in concern, walking to his side. “Are you okay? Did you see something?”

He turns to look back at the staircase, and her gaze follows his. There’s absolutely nothing to see. Just empty wooden stairs, old-fashioned wallpaper, a well-worn hand rail. It’s the same staircase they came uneventfully downstairs on this morning.

“What’s wrong with you, Mulder?” she asks him.

He’s still staring at the empty stairs, his face expressionless. “Uh, nothing,” he says. “I thought I saw something. Probably just my mind playing tricks.”

“Something like before? What you thought was ….?”

“Maybe,” he says. He scratches the back of his neck. His eyes and mouth show no sign of his emotion.

Scully peers at the stairs again, seeing nothing but the most commonplace details. “Maybe? You’re not sure?”

“I don’t know,” he says suddenly. “Maybe.” He shrugs violently. “The truth is … having heard what Duncan said, I don’t know about before either. Maybe you were right.”

Scully blinks, somewhat taken aback.

“I guess it is possible … I misunderstood what I saw,” he says, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Maybe I did just see another guest and I somehow just misinterpreted.”

“You misinterpreted,” she repeats incredulously. “You were so confident earlier.”

“Yeah,” he says, looking away awkwardly. “But … well…”

He doesn’t finish, but in a bolt of certainty she realizes what this change of heart is about.

He believes Duncan’s tale. And he really doesn’t like what being able to see Hero’s ghost reveals about him. To him, it uncovers something private. Something he’d preferred others not know, not even his partner.

This idea shocks Scully into complete silence. Her mind races furiously as she tries to process this, the possibility that Mulder actually could be harboring some kind of secret feelings of love. Which would mean Mulder could be actually seeing someone. She remembers in the car earlier when he said he had a hot date for Christmas. She’d taken it as a self-deprecating joke, but why did she assume that? Why wouldn’t he have a hot date for Christmas? He’s single, good-looking, capable of wit and charm.

And apparently … capable of deep and abiding love. According to a ghost, anyway.

Maybe it’s only me who lives outside the boundaries of ordinary human life.

“Anyway,” Mulder says, apparently eager to change the subject. “I was thinking maybe we should do some research this morning, then meet up later and check in. What do you think?”

“Okay,” she says, trying to match his businesslike, conversational tone. “I should go to the medical examiner and check into their records on the victims.”

“Yeah,” agrees Mulder. “I was going to check out the town’s historical archives. See if I can look further into the inn’s history.”

“All right,” she says, falsely cheerful. He still isn’t meeting her eyes. “Should we meet back here for lunch? One?”

“Sure,” he says. “I’m… going to go upstairs and put on a sweater before I go.” His eyes rise to the stairs again, and he looks hesitant.

“Me, too,” she says, after a beat.

He doesn’t respond or look at her, but walks up the stairs decisively. Scully, left standing by herself in the living room, is suddenly aware of being entirely alone.

Maybe that’s what a ghost is, really, she thinks, looking around the inn’s living room lobby slowly. An absence. A form given by our minds, by our subconsciousness, to what is simply a lack of presence. Isn’t that the tragedy of the dead, after all? The negative space left by what we once cherished. It’s the most cruel that nothing can be.

But the dead are not really nothing, she reminds herself. They’re merely unseen. And what’s unseen isn't necessarily what’s unreal. That’s precisely what faith is, belief in the God of things seen and unseen, like the familiar words of the Nicene Creed say. Just because you don’t see someone with your physical eyes doesn’t mean they’re truly gone. Just because you’re looking at a lump of flesh in an autopsy bay doesn’t mean you’re seeing anything real or meaningful about that person.

This has been something she’s been holding on to as of late. Since Melissa, since she came back to the church.

She stands there a moment, hyperaware of absence around her. The dead, the unborn, the lost, the unrealized. In her imagination all of the absence in her life seems to be congealing in the air, growing thick and oppressive, making breathing impossible, choking the life out of her.

She shakes her head, impatient with herself. This is silly. There’s work to do. After a moment she follows Mulder upstairs to get ready to go. ***

[bloomingcarnival]

Hey guys! So me and my friend/co-writer had made the decision that Districtmatsu would be revamped and that the fic would re remade. So heres the new, much better refs I made

[mononijikayu]

say so — nanami kento.

As you looked at him, you knew that he knew that. But he was only human. It wasn’t easy to not be swayed by human doubts and impulse. You never faulted him for that. If anything, it made you fall in love with him over and over again.  Because your Kento was both sides of the coin of human life. And you embrace it, more than you could ever imagine. Love is just that way. You knew that to be true. You stepped closer, your hands sliding up his arms to rest on his shoulders, grounding him. “Kento, I want you. Only you.” you said, your voice filled with the sincerity you hoped he could feel. “I want you more than anything. Because you’re my life. My oxygen. My everything.”

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Canon Convergence;

WARNING/s: Post-Shibuya Arc, R-18, Smut, Fingering, P to V Sex, Passionate Sex, Pet Names (My Love, Baby), Romance, Friends to Lovers, Husband and Wife, Friendship, Husband! Nanami, Reader! Wife, Fluff, Drama, Comfort, Falling In Love, Flirting, Jealousy, Teasing, Fix-It, Humor, Domesticity, Family Life, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Idiots In Love, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Pining, Nanami Being A Great Husband, Nanami Kento is FATHER™️;

WORDS: 9.5k words.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: nanami won my poll again!!! hurray!!! here's tmi about this - thiis was half way finished when i came back to write it, but then i got sick again and i started writing this more differently than my direction. i got frustrated so i stopped for a while then i forgot about it and then i wanted to finish it.

oh, also kento and you speak danish at home, because you both feel like a secret language between you and him. gojo is also retired — thats going to be in us and them!!! thank you so much for waiting!!! thank you for reading too!!! i love you all !!! see you in the gojo fic (second place) <3

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next: little wonders

HE THOUGHT THAT HE WOULD ALWAYS BE NONCHALANT. Nanami Kento never thought he’d be the type to get jealous. After all, he prided himself on being calm and composed, grounded in logic.

But lately, things have changed. You had changed—or rather, something about you had. At least that’s what he noticed now that you’ve come back to Tokyo, so he could become a mentor to the kids with Gojo’s retirement. 

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Nanami Kento had finally left the endless grind of Jujutsu society, traded the blood and curses for a quiet life in Malaysia, far from the threat of battle.

But when he got that call, it felt like the past had come clawing back, unwilling to let him go. Itadori Yuji’s name on Gojo’s lips stirred something within him—something old, duty-bound, and unwilling to see an innocent youth, especially one with Yuji’s heart, left adrift.

Gojo Satoru's concern was about more than just Yuji, though. Nanami listened as the retired special grade sorcerer, sitting on a cruise across the globe, rattled off frustrations with the new leadership at Jujutsu High and Jujutsu society as a whole. All of it having formed with what he had known from his contacts back at hom.

At the center of it was Usami. That man, the strongest of all first class sorcerers, Usami, who never defied the higher-ups, who prioritized orders and tradition over compassion, whose unfeeling approach Gojo had seen all too often among those aligned with the elders.

Nanami Kento knew the type. They were the very people he’d worked so hard to avoid throughout his career, the type who saw Jujutsu sorcerers as tools more than as people, especially the students.

Now, with Gojo’s absence, Usami had stepped into a more central role at Jujutsu High, and Gojo wasn’t comfortable with it. Why would he? He’s still supporting the remaining conservative factions in Jujutsu High.

There was no other way to feel about it other than this, but concern. The return of a conservative faction, under Gakuganji, would stifle Gojo’s gambles these past few years. Gambles Kento had agreed with, even if not wholeheartedly. 

“I don’t want him making decisions for my students, you know? I’m sure you agree about that with me too.” Gojo said bluntly, his tone carrying the usual lazy confidence but undercut by a genuine concern. “They’ve been through enough. They deserve someone who understands them.” 

Kento could hear Gojo's frustration; it was an unusual tone in the voice of someone who otherwise seemed to brush off his troubles. And in that sentiment, Nanami found himself nodding in agreement. It didn’t sit well with him, either. But what could he do? He is retired now, isn't he? There was no need for this chatter.

Gojo, as though reading his hesitation, chuckled knowingly over the line. “Look, I’m technically retired too, Nanami. I know your feelings about this.” he said with that familiar cheek in his voice. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t meddle. Keeps me busy as I get old, you know? Gojo clan head is empty without any drama.” 

There was a pause, and Kento didn’t know what to say. Gojo Satoru, even in their younger years, used his status to continue to advocate for his interests. And Kento didn’t like it as much, he was someone who liked rules, after all.

Even if he agreed with them, he thinks about the context of propriety. But he knows the soul of Gojo’s argument. He agrees with that. Gojo’s voice softened on the other line.

“Don’t you ever want to keep busy too? I mean, especially when your wife’s at her job? You’re both still in the thick of it, in your own ways. Being a house husband doesn’t always satisfy the itch. Before you rebuttal, you know I’m not lying. ”

Nanami sighed. Gojo’s words struck a nerve. He’s not wrong. Genmei–san also works still, helping out at temples when she has the time. Most of the time, if they weren’t on holiday, it would be Gojo waiting at home and taking care of their children. For a moment, Nanami sat down to think about it properly. 

You were deeply invested in your work as a novelist. You adore it, you truly do. But often, it’s hard for you to deal with. You were just as much an independent person in your own right and that was your own mission, your own purpose.

He admired you for that, but there were times when he found himself wondering about his place. He adores taking care of you, he adores being by your side all the time. He adores being your house–husband. 

But he often questions, besides that, away from the frontline, away from Jujutsu, what was his purpose now? Was he truly content to let the world of sorcery continue without him, even if it meant leaving those like Yuji to struggle without guidance? Or the kids? What can he do for them? What can he do now?

“Fine, Gojo.” Nanami finally muttered. “I’ll look into it. Just… don’t get used to this.” He could practically hear Gojo’s grin over the line, a smug sort of satisfaction that Nanami knew all too well.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Gojo replied smoothly in response. “But I’ll admit, it’s good to have you back, even if just for a little while.”

And so, he tried to muster the courage to tell you about what he had agreed to. Dinner was a warm, familiar ritual together. And by the beachside in Kuantan, everything about it was a wonder to behold.

The sounds of clinking plates and gentle conversation filled the room, and the two of you settled into the ease of being home together, savoring the evening without the rush of tomorrow hanging over you. 

You were halfway through telling him about something small that had happened during your day at the market when he cleared his throat, a subtle shift in his usual, deliberate movements. His fingers, wrapped around his glass, seemed to tighten slightly. You looked at him a little bit confused. 

“There’s something I need to tell you, my love.” he began, meeting your gaze with a calm determination. "I’ve decided… to return to Tokyo." He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in before he continued. "Jujutsu High needs someone to look after the first years. With Gojo retired, things are… in flux."

You blinked, feeling a jolt of surprise, but before you could fully react, he was already explaining, his tone quickening just a touch, as if he’d anticipated your questions. It was rare for your husband to be this way, to ramble about and have his bright brown eyes shake as he looked at you with a shaken uncertainty. But you know when he becomes this way, it’s because of things he cares about.

“It’s not active service, don’t worry about that, my love.” he assured, almost hurriedly, his hand drifting toward yours in an unspoken promise. “I’m not heading back into the field. It’s only to mentor the kids, give them someone they can rely on. They deserve that, especially now.”

You saw his resolve deepen as he spoke of them, the younger students who’d become like family over the years. His voice softened, and you could tell this wasn’t just about filling Gojo’s shoes. 

"I can’t abandon Yuji, he’s already without someone. I can’t really do much more damage by leaving him without someone." he said with quiet conviction, his eyes searching yours as if to make sure you understood. 

“Kento—”

"I know how much he’s been through, and… I don’t want him facing it alone. Nobara, too—she’s so headstrong. She’ll need someone she can turn to, someone to help her channel all that fire. And Gojo’s bound to ask for updates on Fushiguro all the time. You know how he is with him. With them. I just….I just don’t want them to feel so alone about this at all. Usami is gaining some foothold and the conservatives are just….its complicated.”

A small smile tugged at your lips as you listened, watching the familiar strength in his face, the quiet protector in him springing back to life. Passion was beautiful in your husband. Seeing even more alive with such caring passion makes you happy.

His gaze held yours, steady and honest, a reassurance that his heart was set on this, that he wasn’t leaving you behind but rather doing what he felt was right, the only thing that made sense.

You let the warmth you felt for him reflect in your smile, reaching for his hand as it rested between you. “Of course, Kento.” you replied softly, squeezing his fingers with encouragement. “They couldn’t have anyone better.”

A soft exhale escaped him, the tension leaving his shoulders as he squeezed your hand back. Relief and gratitude flickered across his face, the subtle shift of a man who didn’t often ask for things but knew he’d been understood completely. There was no need for grand gestures or lengthy explanations between the two of you; your silent agreement spoke volumes.

The conversation turned to lighter things, back to the warmth of dinner. But every so often, you caught his expression softening, a look of contentment and resolve, knowing he was about to embark on something meaningful, not just for him, but for those who needed him.

But of course, that also came with cons.

The move to Tokyo was a calm one.

But it was also a disastrous one, in his mind.

You were both too busy to spend time together.

The shift was subtle at first. Kento began to spend more and more hours at Jujutsu High, guiding the first years, sharing his experience, and quietly observing their progress. He’d come home later than usual, sometimes with papers under his arm and a faint weariness in his expression that he tried to mask with a smile. 

Meanwhile, you were pouring yourself into your new book, the words and ideas flowing freely under the careful guidance of your new editor. It was an exciting time, both for your work and for him. There was a renaissance in your paths to life blossoming in your efforts. But there was a toll, a quiet distance neither of you fully acknowledged.

One evening, you noticed the weight in his gaze as he joined you at the table. He seemed quieter, his usual calm presence tinged with something else; something like sadness. You set down your work, reaching across to hold his hand, catching the faint glimmer of surprise in his eyes.

“Things have been so busy lately, my love.” he murmured, his voice soft, almost reluctant to admit it aloud. “I miss being able to spend more time with you.”

Your heart softened at his honesty, and you squeezed his hand gently. “I miss it too, Kento.” you replied, meeting his gaze with reassurance. “But you know how this is… the busy season. Soon, I’ll be back to post-writing mode, and we’ll have more time to do things together. This won’t last forever.”

He nodded, his lips curling into a small, understanding smile. “You’re right. It’s just… different.” There was a flicker of relief in his eyes, but it was short-lived.

As the weeks went on, your new editor’s involvement became more intense, often stretching into late-night calls or spontaneous meetings that kept you occupied well beyond the hours you’d once spent with Kento.

He’d catch you on the phone, your voice animated in a way that was hard to miss, even as he stood in the doorway waiting for a chance to say goodnight. It was hard to deal with, day by day.

But he said nothing, keeping his feelings carefully hidden behind the same mask of calm he’d worn so well for years. But you could sense it, the slight slump of his shoulders, the way his gaze lingered on you just a little longer.

It was as if he was hoping you’d glance up, catch his eye, and read the unspoken questions there. In the quiet moments, he’d watch you, a silent longing in his gaze, feeling the bittersweet ache of being close but somehow… not close enough.

It was an unspoken tension, a soft thread pulled too tight between the two of you. And though he never voiced it, you began to sense how much he missed you—not just physically, but in all the little moments you once shared, now slipping through his fingers.

After all, you guys were all you truly had in all these times. He would always crave everything about you. About loving you, about being close to you. Just you. He missed you.

Nanam Kento was sure that he hadi tried to be patient. He reminded himself, over and over, that this was temporary, just a busy period that would eventually pass. He knew how much this book meant to you and understood how important it was to have an editor who could match your energy and vision. 

But despite all his quiet resolve, he couldn’t ignore the pang of envy that crept in every time he saw you light up, laughing or discussing something animatedly over the phone.

The way you and your editor connected; it was undeniable. The easy flow between you two, the synergy that seemed to bridge ideas without any need for words, stirred something unsettled in him.

He would come home from a long day at Jujutsu high, weary but hopeful to catch up with you. Instead, he’d often find you mid-call, your voice carrying hints of excitement he hadn’t heard in a while. You’d wave him a quick greeting, mouthing that you’d be off soon, but “soon” stretched, and his footsteps grew slower on his way to your side.

It wasn’t that he doubted you or the love between you two. He trusted you deeply. But the way you seemed to come alive with this editor… it stung in a way he hadn’t anticipated. He knew you and this person worked well together, that they understood your work and helped bring out your best ideas. 

He understood it logically, but logic did little to quell the feeling of being left on the sidelines. After all, it was a feeling he recognized too well—the familiar ache of watching from a distance, of caring deeply and yet holding his tongue.

Some nights, he’d sit across from you at dinner, glancing up occasionally, only to see you distracted, your mind clearly still on your work. Or you’d mention a new idea your editor had suggested, a change you hadn’t considered but were now eager to explore.

And though he nodded, offering his encouragement, he couldn’t shake the thought: When was the last time I could make her smile like that?

As the weeks went by, he felt it more keenly, this quiet envy of the time you spent together. It wasn’t that he begrudged you for the partnership, but he couldn’t help wishing that he could have more of that side of you for himself; the side that was vibrant and full of life, that spark of curiosity and joy he’d always adored.

Nanami Kento wasn’t one to give voice to his insecurities easily, and he knew how silly he might sound, envious over something so innocent. He was a secured man, in all the ways he knew he was. He knew that too well. Yet as much as he told himself it was foolish, the feeling lingered.

So he held back, watching you in those moments with a quiet ache, determined to keep his envy hidden. He’d stay later at the school, throw himself into lesson planning, sometimes even offer to cover additional duties, as though it might distract him. But each time he came home, seeing you lost in conversation or laughter, he couldn’t shake the feeling that, for now, a part of you belonged to someone else.

He told himself it was just work. You had deadlines; he understood that. But there was something else. Whenever your phone pinged with a message, you’d check it quickly, smile to yourself, then type out a reply, sometimes with a small laugh or a shake of your head. And every time, he’d feel a sharp pang of something foreign to him: jealousy.

Kento tried to reason with himself. You were his wife, and he trusted you implicitly. You had built a life together, one based on love, understanding, and mutual respect. But that didn’t stop the gnawing feeling in his chest whenever he saw you so absorbed in those messages or whenever he saw that spark of excitement in your eyes when you talked about the feedback your editor gave you.

He knew it was irrational, but he couldn’t shake the thought. When he saw you typing away late into the evening, smiling at the screen, a quiet worry settled in the back of his mind. What was this editor like? Why did their input seem to matter so much to you? And why did Kento, who usually approached everything in life with composure, find himself so deeply unsettled?

Tonight, though, he’d had enough. He stood in the doorway to your office, watching you as you leaned over your laptop, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, fully immersed in your work.

You looked beautiful, more beautiful than ever, but that same nagging feeling of jealousy coiled tighter in his chest. And before he could stop himself, something in him just snapped.

“So, my love.” he said, his voice calm yet edged with tension. “Another late night, huh?”

“Yeah, it would seem so!” You retort, noticing him. “You’ve just come home?”

“Just a while ago.” He says to you, watching you turn your head back to your computer. You were typing even faster. He was sure you were trying to finish it, now that he was home.

You looked up once again, a soft smile lighting up your face. “I didn’t even hear you come in. You came in as sly as a little cat!” You stretched, setting aside your laptop and glancing at him warmly. “I was just going over some notes. The editor had a few thoughts on the latest chapter.”

”Did he have any suggestions for this part?" he asked, casually trying to keep his tone even as he nodded toward your screen.

You looked up, clearly surprised. "Who, my editor?"

"Yeah, my love." he said, keeping his gaze fixed on you as he leaned against the doorframe. "It just seems like he's been really… involved in your work lately."

You tilted your head, noticing the unusual tension in his voice, the way his words held a heaviness that wasn’t like him. “Well, that’s what they’re paid to do, you know?” you replied gently, hoping to keep things light, maybe coax a smile out of him. 

But his expression didn’t shift. You could tell almost immediately. Instead, his eyes held a quiet, guarded intensity that stopped you in your tracks. Realizing this was more than a casual remark, you closed your laptop, giving him your full attention.

“Kento… Is something wrong?” you asked, voice soft, searching his face for a sign of what was going on inside him.

He crossed his arms, hesitating. For a moment, he almost looked as if he wanted to brush it off, to go back to his usual collected demeanor, but he stopped. Instead, he looked at you with an intensity that caught you off guard. 

“I know it’s irrational, and I know it’s probably nothing.” he said finally, his voice quiet, almost reluctant. “But… I don’t like seeing you so wrapped up in this person’s feedback. You’ve been smiling at your phone more than you do at me lately, and I’m… not exactly used to feeling like this.”

The vulnerability in his words, the admission from someone usually so calm and composed, made your heart soften instantly. You reached out, covering his hand with yours, feeling the tension there, the way his fingers reflexively squeezed back. 

“Kento, baby.” you said, voice warm. “You don’t have to feel that way. No editor or anyone else could ever mean as much to me as you do. None of them are you. There’s only one of you, you know?”

He relaxed just a little, his shoulders easing as he let your words sink in. But he didn’t let go of that guarded look, the one that still held a hint of uncertainty. “Then why does it feel like I’m… competing for your attention?” he asked, his gaze never leaving yours. It was a simple question, but the way he asked it, with a vulnerability that you knew he rarely revealed, struck you deeply.

You took a deep breath, choosing your words carefully. “I guess I didn’t realize how it looked.” you admitted, your thumb brushing lightly along his hand. “It’s just… I got excited about the project, and the new feedback’s been inspiring. But…I’m so sorry for not noticing or making you feel that way, baby.” 

You reached out, tracing a gentle hand down his arm, feeling the tension start to melt away as you looked into his eyes. “None of that compares to what I have with you. I hope you know that.  You’re the one I come home to, Kento. You’re the one who matters most. I love you. Only you.”

He seemed to exhale, his expression softening. You could see the quiet relief in his eyes, the way the tension finally started to lift, and it made you want to close whatever lingering distance was left between you. And then, his voice, low and almost hesitant, broke the silence.

“Tell me, my love.” he whispered, barely above a murmur. “Tell me that you want me. Just… say it.”

The raw vulnerability in his voice, that rare openness he was offering, made your heart ache in the best way. You don’t think you had ever felt like this before Kento. But every day since then, your heart has created more motions you could never understand. And you know, you just knew – it was because you loved him more than anything in life. 

As you looked at him, you knew that he knew that. But he was only human. It wasn’t easy to not be swayed by human doubts and impulse. You never faulted him for that. If anything, it made you fall in love with him over and over again. 

Because your Kento was both sides of the coin of human life. And you embrace it, more than you could ever imagine. Love is just that way. You knew that to be true. You stepped closer, your hands sliding up his arms to rest on his shoulders, grounding him.

“Kento, I want you. Only you.” you said, your voice filled with the sincerity you hoped he could feel. “I want you more than anything. Because you’re my life. My oxygen. My everything.”

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, and before either of you could say another word, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a warm, firm embrace. The warmth you had come to hold onto in this life. 

You sank into his hold, resting your head against his chest, feeling the steady, reassuring beat of his heart beneath your ear. There was a familiar comfort there, a quiet strength in his embrace, that had always felt like home.

For a few moments, you both stayed that way, close and quiet, as if the world outside had faded and left only the two of you. He lifted his head slightly, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead/

Kento murmured into your hair, his voice gentle. “Promise me you’ll take a break from work. I’ll do it too. We’ll spend time together. Just us. No one else.”

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, a soft smile spreading across your lips. “Of course, my baby. I can postpone everything else. If it’s you, everything else can wait. My husband being happy is more important to me!” you whispered.

A quiet sense of relief washed over him, and he held you a little tighter, his own smile finally breaking through, his usual calm confidence restored. For Kento, there was no greater feeling than knowing you were his and that you were here, sharing this quiet, peaceful moment with him.

As he held you close, he felt a deep contentment, one he rarely allowed himself to savor. The jealousy that had once gripped him faded entirely, replaced by a quiet certainty. Of course there should be. Why wouldn't there be?

The certainty that your love, your life together, was the one thing in the world he could rely on. That he was sure. You love him, after all. And as he closed his eyes, resting his chin atop your head, he silently thanked the universe for you, for this love that was more real, more enduring, than any fleeting worry or passing jealousy.

This, he thought to himself, was where he belonged. 

Right here, in this moment, in your arms.

Nowhere else can compare to this.

YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO GO AND HAVE A PICNIC. The night before you had agreed that it would be nice to enjoy the Tokyo sun, and have a picnic at the park. You talked about a cat cafe nearby too. He talked about how the yakisoba dish was introduced at his favorite restaurant. There were new spots popping out in Tokyo for you both to check out.

That’s what you agreed on. Today was supposed to be simple, a peaceful day just to unwind and enjoy each other’s company. But the moment you woke up and felt his gaze linger a bit longer.

Slowly, smoothly, you could feel his hand finding the curve of your waist, you knew that quiet was about to turn into something much more intense. You knew your husband too well. When he’s hungry — he remains hungry.

He pulled you close, his grip both gentle and possessive as his eyes darkened. “Mine, only mine.” he murmured, the word almost a growl, his fingers tracing your skin like he wanted to memorize every part of you. 

The world around you melted away as he took his time, every kiss and touch filled with a need that made your heart race. You let him, giving himself over as he murmured softly against your skin, “My pretty wife… just for me.”

You could feel him stretching you out so perfectly with his fingers, causing you to moan loudly. Your husband was good, too good at everything he does. But when it comes to you, he was beyond excellent. Your eyes felt hazy as he looked at you with that predatory stare. You held him even closer, your moan getting louder. 

Your head turns awry with the high as you continue to ride his fingers as he kisses your neck, you're stuck against the wall occupied by him. No one, not even your previous lovers, those green boy boyfriends were able to make you feel this good.

No one could make you feel this way. Only him. Only your husband, your Kento. And every single time, he knew it. Even with his jealousy, he knew it. You were always going to fold when it’s him. Only him. 

“K–Kento.” you moan out, your voice breathless as you rock against his fingers, the sensation overwhelming in the best way. Each movement sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, and you can't help but lose yourself in the rhythm he creates. “You’re… you’re… oh—”

His eyes darken with desire, and a sly smile creeps onto his lips. “That’s it, my love.” he replies, his voice low and filled with warmth.

He peppered soft kisses along your neck, each one igniting a fire inside you that burned brighter with every passing second. His fingers pushed deeper, faster, and you felt so incredibly full, the exquisite stretch making your head spin.

“Come. Come for me.” he urged, his words wrapping around you like a spell, both a command and an invitation. The way he held you against the wall, the heat radiating from his body, only heightened the electric connection between you.

Every kiss he placed on your skin felt like a promise, an affirmation of the bond you shared. No one else had ever made you feel this way; so cherished and desired. With him, you were always ready to surrender completely, to give in to the overwhelming pleasure that built within you. Nothing else can compare with what you feel for your husband. Nothing. 

You could feel the tension coiling tighter, your body responding instinctively to his every touch. He was so good at remembering where to touch you next. After being together for this long, Kento knew your body even better than you. He knows how to make you cry, how to make you moan. He knows everything.

“Kento.” you gasped, the sound a mix of pleasure and longing, and as his fingers curled just right, that coil finally snapped. Your body shuddered, a wave of bliss crashing over you, leaving you breathless as you surrendered to the moment, lost in the magic of him.

You looked up at him, and his gaze was intense, filled with a mix of satisfaction and hunger that sent a rush of warmth through you. Without a word, he pressed his lips against yours, kissing you with a fervor that reignited the fire within. 

His movements were slow at first, but as he pushed his fingers one by one, even deeper, your moans escaped you uncontrollably, pulling him closer as you urged him on, wanting nothing more than to feel every bit of him.

Somehow, you had been able to accommodate every tight, muscular finger in his hand. And you knew it felt good. He knew it felt good. Because he knew just what to do. No one else would. Only Kento would.

He responded with a low, pleased growl, the sound reverberating through his chest as his free hand tightened around your hip, holding you possessively against him.

There was an undeniable power in the way he claimed you, every inch of his touch a reminder of the connection you shared. You felt cherished and owned, completely his in this intimate moment.

Each thrust of his fingers sent jolts of pleasure coursing through you, each stroke deliberate and filled with purpose. Your body responded eagerly, arching into him as you surrendered fully to the sensations, every moan escaping your lips urging him on.

The world outside ceased to exist; there was only you, him, and the electric energy that wrapped around you both, binding you together in a rhythm that felt both primal and tender.

As the intensity of the moment deepened, you could feel the heat radiating from him, a tangible connection that anchored you both in a world of your own. His lips traveled down to your neck, trailing kisses that ignited your skin, leaving behind a trail of fire. You could feel the way he held you, his grip firm yet gentle, and it made you crave more, the need building inside you like a rising tide.

“Just like that, my love.” he murmured against your skin, his breath warm and teasing. The sound of his voice sent a thrill through you, adding to the layers of pleasure that enveloped you.

He continued to move his fingers with a deliberate slowness, coaxing every last ounce of ecstasy from your body. Each time he pushed deeper, you gasped, the sensations pulling you closer to the edge once again.

Your fingers tightened in his hair, pulling him closer, as if you could merge your bodies into one. Drool started to form from your lips as he thrusted even deeper, pleasure repetitive in your lips to his ears. He enjoyed it. He enjoyed making a mess of you way too much. 

“K–kento. Oh my….g—oddddd…..” you breathed, the urgency in your voice echoing your desire. You needed him, all of him, and you wanted to feel that connection intensify. He looked into your eyes, and in that moment, you saw the depth of his love mirrored in his gaze, a promise that went beyond the physical.

He quickened his pace slightly, and you felt every pulse of his fingers inside you, each thrust igniting a new wave of pleasure. You could sense the hunger in him, a deep-seated need to feel you unravel beneath him.

“You’re perfect, aren't you?” he said, the words reverberating through you as you lost yourself in the moment. His possessiveness only heightened your arousal, each stroke of his fingers an affirmation that you belonged to him, and he to you.

With every thrust, every kiss, you felt the world around you blur, leaving only the two of you entwined in a dance of passion. Your bodies moved together as if they were made to fit, every touch syncing perfectly. You surrendered completely, letting the waves of pleasure wash over you, pulling you under and lifting you higher.

“Come for me again, my love.” he urged, his voice a low growl filled with desire. You could feel the pressure building once more, and with a desperate need, you clung to him, riding the waves of sensation that coursed through you. 

The world outside faded entirely as you focused on the way he made you feel—alive, cherished, and utterly consumed by the moment. And as you finally tipped over the edge into bliss, you knew that this was where you belonged, wrapped in his arms, lost in your shared passion.

As the world outside faded into a distant hum, you and Kento found yourselves enveloped in an intimate cocoon, where it was just the two of you. His gaze held yours, deep and searching, as if he were reading the unspoken words that danced between you. The air was thick with anticipation, and your heart raced in sync with the pulse of the moment.

With a gentle touch, he caressed your cheek, his fingers trailing down to your neck, igniting sparks of warmth beneath his fingertips. The softness of his touch contrasted with the burning desire that simmered between you, creating a perfect tension that left you breathless. You leaned into him, craving the connection that felt both familiar and exhilarating.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice low and filled with warmth, laced with a hint of playful teasing that made your stomach flutter. You nodded, feeling a rush of trust and excitement wash over you. You knew he would take care of you, just as he always did.

As he shifted closer, you could feel the heat radiating from his body, enveloping you in a cocoon of warmth and safety. When he entered you, it was as if time stood still. The sensation was overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and intimacy that made you gasp softly. You could feel every inch of him, filling you completely, as he took his time, letting you adjust to the fullness.

Kento's eyes never left yours, and in that moment, you felt utterly cherished. Each movement was deliberate, as if he were savoring the connection between your bodies and the bond you shared. He pressed his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours as you both surrendered to the rhythm of your bodies.

“You’re so beautiful, my love.” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, and you could feel the sincerity in his words.

Those simple words sent a wave of warmth through you, making you feel both desired and loved. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him even closer, as if you could merge your souls together.

He held you firmly, as though afraid to let go, fingers pressing into your skin with a hunger that left no doubt of his intentions. His hands slid from your waist to your thighs, gripping you with an intensity that was both grounding and electric, each touch sparking a heat that made you shiver.

The way he held you was raw and consuming, as though he wanted to memorize the feeling of you beneath his hands, every curve, every softness. He knew everything like the back of his hand/

You could feel his breath, warm and steady, against your skin, each kiss he placed making you arch closer, melting into the strength of his hold. The roughness of his grip, his possessive energy, pulled you deeper.

It was like he was marking you as his, his touch heavy with a passion that left you breathless. He looked into your eyes, his gaze dark and intense, a silent promise of everything he wanted to give, everything he wanted to take.

The world seemed to narrow to just the two of you, his warmth surrounding you, his presence overwhelming in the best possible way. Every inch of you felt alive under his touch, every nerve alight with a need that only he could satisfy.

His hands continued to explore, leaving trails of warmth, his touch demanding yet tender, as if reassuring you that he was there, and you were his.

The heat between you intensified, his hands roaming slowly, leaving a trail of tingling warmth wherever they went. You trembled, feeling the power behind every touch, every possessive whisper.

You could feel him drinking in the sight of you, holding you close as if he didn’t want to let go. It wasn’t rushed; it was filled with a focused, possessive affection that only made you crave him more.

Time blurred as his movements became a mix of gentleness and intensity. His hands slid lower, holding you firmly, possessively, as he whispered your name.

His words washed over you, filled with longing and satisfaction as he whispered, “You’re mine. Only mine.” Each soft murmur made your breath catch, his voice rough with devotion.

Your husband had always had a way of grounding you, pulling you back to him in the moments you needed it most. He held you with a quiet strength, his touches both comforting and electric, each caress more deliberate than the last.

When the busy schedules and late nights began to take their toll, you’d find yourself in his arms, feeling the tension melt away as he made you his world.

He was possessive in the gentlest way, his lips tracing along your skin, his voice murmuring low, tender words that anchored you to the present.

"Mine, mine." he'd say, over and over, his voice a husky whisper as he pressed deeper, slow and unhurried, savoring each moment. "My beautiful wife, my one and only."

You let yourself unravel under his touch, feeling each surge of pleasure as he pulled you closer, his mouth finding yours in heated kisses, his hands firm as they held you against him. The world outside faded, and there was only him—each movement, each shudder of pleasure woven with his love and need for you.

And as your body trembled, giving in to the pleasure he offered, he’d whisper words that sent warmth spiraling through you: His only. His good girl. His good little wife.

With every pulse and every breath, he made you his, claiming you in the way only he could, and you felt yourself give in, letting him take what he needed, knowing that he was yours just as deeply.

In these moments, he was entirely yours, just as you were his, both of you wrapped up in a world where only the two of you existed. And as he held you close, that familiar need he had for you was clear in his eyes, you could feel the depth of his love; the way he wanted you, needed you—all pouring out with each possessive word and touch.

Every thrust was slow and measured, each movement deliberate and filled with purpose, as if Kento were painting a masterpiece with your bodies.

He took his time, carefully crafting a rhythm that drew you both closer to the edge of ecstasy, like the steady buildup of a powerful wave ready to crash upon the shore. Each moment felt like an eternity, stretched and molded by his touch, igniting every nerve ending with heat and longing.

Kento relished in the way you responded to him, the way your body quivered beneath him, your breaths coming in soft gasps that filled the space between you.

He liked making you wait, savoring the way your eyes widened in need and your body writhed, pleading for more. The way you mewled over and over again, lost in the depths of desire, was music to his ears, a siren call that drove him further into the depths of his own hunger for you.

“Please, Kento. More. More—” you begged, your voice trembling with desperation, the need pooling in the pit of your stomach. Each word was a plea, a yearning that echoed in the silence of the room, punctuated only by the soft sounds of skin meeting skin.

“P–please….pleaseeeee…..”

A teasing smile played on his lips as he leaned down, his breath warm against your neck. He bit gently into your flesh, a sweet sting that sent shivers of pleasure coursing through you, causing you to moan, tears streaming down your face from the overwhelming sensations flooding your body. 

“Enjoy it, my love. Enjoy the slow burn.” he murmured, his voice low and husky, wrapping around you like a silken ribbon. “Let’s have fun, hm?”

His words were a command and a caress, urging you to embrace the intensity of the moment. The way he spoke your name, the way he held you, felt like a tether pulling you deeper into the shared experience. You were both caught in a delicate dance, a balance of power and surrender, where every pause and every gentle caress built anticipation.

The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you intertwined, lost in the growing tension between your bodies. Kento was in control, but you loved it. You loved the way he took his time, how each thrust felt like an exploration, a journey into the very essence of what it meant to be together.

He would withdraw slightly, teasing you with the promise of more, before plunging back into you with a slow, deliberate push that sent sparks of pleasure radiating from the core of your being.

Each pulse of his body against yours was a reminder of his possession, of the bond you shared that was both beautiful and intoxicating. The slow burn he created enveloped you, igniting your senses and drawing you closer to the precipice of your desires. You could feel the heat building within you, an insistent wave that throbbed and twisted, desperate for release.

“Just like that, my love.” he encouraged, his voice a soothing balm against the tumultuous storm of emotions swirling inside you. “Let it build. Let it consume you.”

You let his words command you, letting them wash over you as you melted into the sensations. Every tear that fell was a blessing of pleasure and the pain mingling together, a sweet agony that you welcomed wholeheartedly.

You could feel your heart racing, your breaths quickening, as you approached that sweet, familiar edge, caught between the bliss of the moment and the urgency of your need.

With every deep stroke, you felt a delicious tension building within you, a tightness that was both exhilarating and overwhelming. Each time he filled you completely, it ignited a spark of pleasure that resonated deep in your core, drawing soft gasps from your lips. Your husband was a great lover. Perhaps the best there ever was. 

You surrendered to him fully, giving yourself over to the sensations that enveloped you. The outside world faded away, leaving nothing but the two of you entwined in this intimate dance. The warmth of his body pressed against yours, the way his breath mingled with yours, made every moment feel precious. 

You can only focus on him. Only him. He was what mattered. The way his eyes held yours, filled with an intensity that spoke volumes of his love and desire.

You could write as many beautiful works as you could ever want. But perhaps the most beautiful creation in your life was him. Loving Nanami Kento was your most beautiful creation.

In that moment, nothing else mattered but the way he made you feel. It was a combination of love and raw passion, an electric current that flowed between you, binding you together in a way that felt profoundly intimate.

Every caress of his hands, every whispered word, heightened your awareness of him, igniting your senses and making you acutely aware of the depth of your connection.

You could feel his warmth enveloping you, a comforting presence that made you feel safe yet desired. The way he moved, the way he took his time to explore every inch of you, filled you with an overwhelming sense of affection and longing.

With each thrust, you could feel your bodies communicating in a language all your own, a silent exchange that deepened the bond between you.

As you both lost yourselves in each other, the outside world faded into nothingness, leaving only the two of you entwined in a universe of your own making.

The air around you thickened with anticipation, and every touch felt electric, as if the very essence of your connection pulsed between you. As if you truly belonged together.

You could sense the tension coiling tighter, each movement a languid dance that drew you deeper into an exquisite rhythm, a beautiful synergy that melded your souls together and ignited a fire within you that felt utterly intoxicating.

“Kento, I’m coming. I’m so close.” you gasped, the words spilling from your lips as desire swirled through your veins.

He trailed kisses along your jaw, his lips soft yet insistent, igniting a cascade of shivers that traveled down your spine. “Come for me, baby. Let go.” he urged, his voice low and rich with promise, wrapping around you like a warm embrace.

That was when he shifted, his movements quickening, a sudden urgency that sent your heart racing. The delicious friction intensified, and with each thrust, the world outside vanished completely, leaving only the two of you in a haze of passion. 

Every kiss, every whisper, every pulse of his body against yours propelled you closer to that blissful edge, where pleasure and surrender intertwined, drawing you both into a beautiful climax that promised to sweep you away entirely.

As Kento quickened his pace, the urgency of his movements sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, building to a peak that felt both thrilling and inevitable.

The air around you crackled with electricity, every sensation heightened as he pressed deeper, claiming you in a way that made your heart race and your body ache for more. His breaths came in ragged gasps, mingling with the sound of skin against skin, each thrust driving you further into a euphoric haze.

“My love, I’m so close.” he murmured, his voice thick with desire, his eyes locked onto yours, filled with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “I’m….I’m gonna come.”

You could see the raw need in his gaze, the way he was completely lost in the moment, just as you were. It was intoxicating to know that you had this effect on him, that you could pull him into this blissful space where nothing else mattered but the two of you.

“I want you, baby.” you whispered, your voice trembling with urgency as you felt that familiar coil tightening within you. “I need you.”

“D’ you want me inside, hm? Where do you want me?”

You moan, thinking about how hot it was. How hotter it would be to have him inside of you. “I-inside me. Please. Please. Make me full.”

“Y’d like that? You want me to make you full of me, my love?”

“Yes, yes, o–oh, yes—”

With a low growl, Kento shifted his focus, pushing into you with a deep, purposeful thrust that sent stars dancing behind your eyelids. The world outside was a distant memory, all that existed was the heat building between you, a fire that consumed you both whole.

His movements were rhythmic yet fervent, each push coaxing you closer to the edge, and you could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter within you. It felt so good. It felt way too good and you wanted it to last forever.

“Let go, my love.” he urged, his voice a sultry whisper that sent shivers coursing through your body. “I’m right there with you.”

And then, with a final, deep thrust, you felt him come inside you, warmth flooding you as he released with a low groan, his body pulsing against yours. The sensation was overwhelming—a rush of heat that spread through you, mingling with your own climax as pleasure washed over you in waves, leaving you breathless and trembling benea

th him.

You held on closer to him, taking in a new dawn’s breath.

You were so in love with this man, more than you know. 

And he was the same — he couldn’t get enough of loving you.

“You know, if I had known jealousy would make you like this…” you finally say, your voice still laced with breathlessness as you regain your composure.

The warmth of the moment lingers around you like a soft blanket, and you can feel the aftershocks of pleasure still coursing through your body. Kento’s kisses trail along your glistening skin, each gentle press of his lips a sweet reminder of the connection you’ve just shared.

His lips are soft against you, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake, and the scent of your mingled skin fills the air with a heady sweetness that is all-consuming.

“I would get you jealous often, baby.” you tease, a playful smile curving your lips as you look down at him.

Kento pauses, lifting his gaze to meet yours, his expression a mixture of amusement and mock seriousness. “Is that so?” he replies, his voice a low rumble that sends a delightful shiver through you. 

The intensity in his eyes is unmistakable, a mix of possessiveness and affection that makes your heart flutter.You can’t help but laugh softly, the sound echoing around you in the intimate space you’ve created together.

“Absolutely. You should see how cute you get when you’re all riled up, baby.” you say, playfully nudging him with your shoulder. “Fiesty and all.”

His lips curve into a smirk, and he leans closer, brushing his nose against yours. “You’re lucky I’m not the type to stay jealous for long, my love.” he murmurs, the warmth of his breath tickling your face. “But if it means I get to have you like this…” 

His voice trails off, and he plants a series of soft kisses down your neck, each one sending delightful tingles racing across your skin. You sigh, closing your eyes for a moment to relish the sensations he stirs within you. 

“You’re incorrigible sometimes, Kento.” you whisper, feeling the weight of his affection enveloping you. The playful banter only adds to the intimacy, making it all the more special, as if you were sharing a secret joke that only the two of you understood.

“Only for you, my love.” he replies, his voice sincere as he pulls back just enough to gaze into your eyes. “But really, seeing you light up like that—it’s worth it. Just know I’ll always come back to claim what’s mine.”

epilogue 

As the soft glow of the evening light filtered through the window, casting gentle shadows across the room, you and Kento found yourselves nestled comfortably together. You hadn’t left the bed much since this morning.

And your husband was incredibly happy about that. He wanted to spend as much time with you as possible. Everything about the room smelt like sex and sweat, that was to be expected. Your husband’s insatiable when he gets into it. 

But the atmosphere was relaxed and intimate, the air filled with the kind of warmth that comes from deep affection. Everything about the aftermath was the passion of lovers who will always be in love.

And you couldn't help but admit that you felt blessed with that. This passion between you and Kento, it will never die. For bitter, for worse, for good and better — you will always have this. You will always be together like this.

After a playful exchange repeating over and over again, you both took breaks in between. For a while, you both watched some television. Kento seems to enjoy Love Island, so he wants to watch the whole series with you now. A little while later, the two of you talked a little bit about the little things you’ve seen and done lately.

Soon enough, you were sure you were hungry. Kento immediately kissed you and went to the kitchen, coming back with some bowls of favorite snacks and some refreshing drinks, on ice.

But of course, he urged you to drink the water most. With all the screaming he’s made you do, he’s a little bit more worried about your voice, 

You both conversed about silly things now, laughing at how Yuji seems to be as silly as ever before. About how Gakuganji seems to continue to be annoyed by Gojo Satoru’s phone calls.

But then he talked about Gojo Satoru expecting another child on the way, albeit accidental. In that moment, you realized it was that moment. So, you took a moment to shift the conversation to that.

“You know, baby…..” you began, leaning your head against his shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. “I know you’re still busy, I’ve been thinking maybe….just maybe…”

“You know surprises aren’t needed.” He laughs, lowering his head to press a kiss to your cheek.

“I know, I know.” You roll your eyes playfully but let out a small smile, leaning against his chest. “Don’t you think it’s time we consider having kids soon. I’m really happy to make that happen soon.”

Kento turned to you, his brow raising in playful skepticism, but a smile tugged at his lips. “Is that so? You’re ready to dive into the chaos of parenting, my love? You know it’s a lot of work, right?” He chuckled, the sound warm and inviting, filling the space between you.

You couldn’t help but grin back, your heart fluttering at the prospect. “Of course! But I think it would be so worth it. Just imagine our little ones running around, making messes and keeping us on our toes.”

He smiles at you fondly. “You think so?”

“Yeah, I know so.” You grinned at him. “I can also see you being the doting dad, teaching them all about fighting and how to protect themselves. Or you know, just making some bread from home! I do miss authentic rye bread from an expert in Danish baked goods. Imagine how our kids will feel when they eat it too!”

He laughed, a rich, hearty sound that echoed in the room and made you feel light with joy. “You think so? I suppose you’re right, my love. I can already picture myself getting wrapped around their little fingers. They’d have me wrapped around their hearts in no time.” 

The sincerity in his tone made your heart swell with happiness.

Everything about your husband makes you feel happy everyday.

If life were to teach what happiness looks like, it would be him.

“Exactly!” you exclaimed, your excitement bubbling over. “And they’d have your strength and my charm. Can you imagine how adorable they’d be?”

Kento’s expression softened, a gentle smile spreading across his face. “You know, I’ve always wanted that. A family with you. You make everything better.” His words wrapped around you like a warm embrace, igniting a sense of hope and love within you.

“So, you’re on board with the idea?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, yet filled with anticipation.

“Absolutely, my love.” he replied, that playful smirk returning to his face. “But first, I think we need to indulge in another round of this.” 

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin, and captured your lips in a kiss that sent shivers down your spine. You melted against him, losing yourself in the moment, the kiss deepening as he pulled you closer.

It was intoxicating, filled with a mix of passion and love that made your heart race. Everything about Kento was just a pool you wanna drown in. Everything about him was worth drowning in. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you wrapped up in each other, a perfect blend of laughter, warmth, and desire.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, your cheeks flushed with warmth, Kento looked at you with that glint of mischief in his eyes that you adored.

“Okay, let’s talk about the details later, my love.” he said, grinning widely. “But for now, I think we have some important work to do to ensure that happens.”

With that, he pulled you back into another passionate kiss, laughter bubbling between you as you savored the moment. You felt the electric connection between you, the promise of a beautiful future hanging in the air, ripe with possibilities.

As you both continued to kiss, the playful banter resumed, filled with sweet nothings and playful teasing about the “practice” needed for the future family you envisioned. After all, practice makes perfect.

[blvckswxnji]

Tramp Stamp | 🕯️🔗

❦.♱ʚ♡ɞ♱❦. ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ❦.♱ʚ♡ɞ♱

-xxxxx-

Pairings: [Hobie Brown x (f) Reader]

Genre: short fic, (18+)

Warnings: some strong language, smut

Summary: Hobie seems to be fan of your new tattoo…

Word Count: 1.9k

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It was originally an impulsive decision on your part. It had been a random Thursday afternoon, and the idea of getting a tattoo on your lower back seemed cool. And so there you were, walking into the tattoo shop, and getting that shit inked into your skin for the next hour or so. When the artist was done, you took the time to admire the beautiful line work etched into the dip of your back.

‘Oh, Hobie’s going to love this when he sees it.’ You thought, as the excitement began bubbling its way into your gut.

You weren’t going to see him until later that night so you decided it was best to take care of it until then. You weren’t going to reveal it to him right away, instead, you wanted him to discover it for himself. You knew the reaction would be worth it. For the rest of the time being, you busied yourself with miscellaneous activities to keep yourself entertained throughout the day.

When the time rolled around for his arrival, you noticed Hobie was running a bit later than usual as he still wasn’t at your place. It was getting late, so you decided on running yourself a shower to get ready for bed. With that, you grabbed your towel, and were off to the bathroom.

Hot showers were the ideal for you, and once it was at the perfect temperature you hopped in. You made sure to be mindful of your tattoo while lathering your body, and couldn’t help but bask in the warmth of the water hitting your somewhat stiff muscles. Your playlist played softly in the background as the bathroom fogged up with steam.

You had become deep within your random shower thoughts when you heard a soft thump coming from your room. You didn’t leave the shower right away as you knew it was Hobie, and were sure he heard the sound of the shower indicating where you were to him.

It wasn’t long before you were done, stepping out of the wet tub and wrapping the towel securely around your figure. After drying off your body, you quickly exited the bathroom as it started to become suffocating. You entered the room where you were met with Hobie who had laid back comfortably on your bed. Eyes closed, legs crossed and hands behind his head. He opened his eyes at the sound of the door closing behind you, smirking when he was met with the sight of you in your towel.

“Well that’s certainly a sight to be welcomed by isn’ it?” He teased, biting his lip as he sat up to make his way towards you.

You flushed at the words, shaking your head. You stood up on your toes as he stood in front of you to peck his lips, his arms wrapping around your waist. You smile at the warmth he enveloped you in.

“What took you so long?” You ask, pulling away to get dressed.

Hobie leans to sit back on your bed. His eyes never leave you as you make your way to your closet to grab a fresh set of clothing to sleep in.

“Oh ya’ know, the same old anomaly bullshit, and Miguel bein’ even more of a damn pain in my ass.” He utters nonchalantly, resting his weight on his hands.

You hum. Still aware of his lingering gaze as you walk back towards your bed.

“You gonna stare at me the whole time?” You ask with raised eyebrows, a hint of a smirk playing on your lips.

“Nothin’ I haven’t seen before right? What, you gettin’ shy love?” He tilts his head to the side teasing the question, giving you a once over.

“No.” Your answer was short. Truth be told, Hobie always knew how to fluster you up, and make you nervous. So, you swiftly move to sit at the edge of the bed and slowly unravel your towel. It sits just above the tattoo on your lower back, so Hobie couldn’t see it just yet. Although, his heavy gaze followed your every move. The cool air hits your upper body immediately and you shiver as a result.

You tug on the cami you picked out, the hem halting just above your midriff, followed by a fresh pair of underwear you slipped on under the towel.

“Sure you’re not.” You defeatedly roll your eyes at that, reaching for your shorts. Standing up, you feel the cool air graze your lower body as the towel slips completely from your form. Although you couldn’t see it, the sharp breath of air that resonated behind you was all you needed to know what Hobie looked like. Still, you pretend not to notice, playing coy.

“Whatever Hobie,” you comment, turning to face him, “wanna watch a movie or something?” You ask, climbing up your bed to hover over him with a smile on your face. You lean in to peck his lips expecting a response, but your movement is suddenly halted as you feel two strong hands grab at your hips, and spin you so that your back is facing him again. You let out a yelp, losing your balance at the sudden movement with your side coming in contact with your mattress.

With not much time to process what was happening, you’re then pushed to lay on your stomach, followed up by the hem of your shorts being pulled down slightly to reveal your full tattoo.

“When were you gonna tell me about this hm?” His voice is low when he asks. His thumb tracing the intricate lines dancing across your skin as he examines the ink. The proximity of his body as he lifts his head to pry you of an answer makes you shiver a bit.

You turn your head to face him, his face inches from yours as his eyes darken.

“Oh this? Got it done earlier, thought you’d like it.” You smirk. “Wanted to surprise you.”

“What, you like it?” You ask him already knowing the answer.

He smirks with hooded eyes as he glances back down at the tattoo, gripping the side of your hip even harder before moving his hand down lower to grasp your ass.

You gasp softly at the feeling.

He leans into your ear. So much so, that his lips caress the shell, creating a tingling sensation across your body.

“Love it so much on you, I want to see it with no clothes on.” He whispers as he tugs at the hem of your shorts to pull them down even further.

You blush at the statement as he begins to lay kisses to your neck. “Hobie I just got dressed, and I just came from the shower.” It was a half-hearted plea, as he continued his motions that made your body heat up in anticipation.

“Shoulda’ thought about that before you got dressed babe.” He quipped, creating bruises on the soft skin of your neck as he moved to hover over you.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him closer to you, threading your fingers in his hair as you move to kiss his lips passionately. “Or maybe I did, and just wanted you to undress me yourself.” You say, looking up at him through your lashes, a hint of mischief in your eyes.

Hobie looks down at you with a smirk on his face. He doesn’t say anything as he leans closer to you, hand traveling under your cami and up towards your breast. High just enough to where his thumb could caress the underside of it.

“In that case, I’m glad to do the honors then.” He mutters before smashing his lips to yours. You would never get enough of how warm they were, and the cold sensation his piercings created when meshed with your lips.

Hobie grabbed the hem of your shirt, breaking away from the kiss to pull it over your head, rendering you nude from the waist up. His hands immediately grabbed at both of your breasts, fingers tweaking at the hardened nipples making your back arch off the bed and into him. He always knew how sensitive they were when you were aroused and it only made him want to pleasure you more.

You feel his hand travel down the length of your back, moving his hand to squeeze the side of your hip before flipping you over once again.

“Swear, you’re gonna give me whiplash if you keep doing that.” You complain as you turn your head to face him.

He grins at your reaction, “relax babe, nothin’ you can’t handle.” He says, pulling your backside up to his front, against his hips.

Hobie then makes quick work of removing his shirt, followed by the removal of your bottoms leaving you completely exposed. His hand runs down the expanse of your back, stopping at the ink that decorated the skin of your lower back.

“It’s so beautiful, can’t wait to see it as I ravish you.” He mutters lightly, making you whimper softly at the words. The next thing you know, you feel his soft lips kiss the dip of your back. You feel them as they drag across your skin, going lower and lower. You shudder when you feel his nose eventually brush against your folds, causing you to moan into your pillow.

“Shit.” You whisper against the fabric as you feel his tongue begin to explore your opening.

“You always taste so good f’me sweetheart.” You blush at his praise. “I need to fuck you right now.” He breathes airily.

“Please Hobie, I need you.” You beg.

It wasn’t long after that you found said man railing into you from behind. Arms behind your arched back, face smothered into the sheets, and loud moans falling from your lips.

The sheer force that Hobie’s hips subjected you to, turned your brain into mush. The sound of skin slapping emitting all throughout the room, while both of your bodies became slick in a thin layer of sweat.

You felt as if your body was going to give out with the rate you two were going at, and Hobie could tell. Yet, he couldn’t help himself. Not when with each slam of his hips, he would be rewarded with the sight of your tattoo rippling in tandem with your skin. The way it moved as he drove himself deeper and deeper into your cunt, drove him insane.

It was just so hot to him.

“Fuck Hobie, I’m gonna come.” You yell, feeling the coil in your abdomen tightening with each thrust.

“Shit, I’m close too.” He utters practically out of breath. He reaches for your neck to pull you up so your back is to his chest. “Come for me baby.” He says, whispering in your ear, thrusting faster.

With that, you are finally pushed to the edge as the coil in your stomach snaps and you come undone on him.

You throw your head back in pure ecstasy, stars clouding your vision behind your eyelids as your moans fill the room. Hobie’s not far behind you as you hear a pleasured groan escape his lips and feel warm liquid fill your walls.

You feel Hobie drop his head onto your shoulder, breathing rapidly as he comes down from his high. Hot breath tickling your neck, before he sets the both of you down, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close.

You both lay like that for a while, waiting for your bodies to cool down. His fingers softly tracing the outlines of the inked design etched in your back.

You lean into his touch, not wanting the small moment to end as it all was too perfect of a feeling.

You shuffle onto your other side to face him, cupping his jaw and bringing your lips to his in a soothing kiss. Breaking away you smirk at him.

“M’ guessing you liked it then?”

————————————————————————

I’m so glad I got this done lmao this whole week has been so tiring for me so I’m sry for the delay. Hope y’all enjoyed! <3

[gnawing-suspicion]

Favorite Hannigram Fics of 2024

So! I’ve been thinking about making this list for weeks but it overwhelmed me — I started reading Hannigram fic this year and have consumed millions of words of it. I began without an ao3 account so many of the ones I started with are lost to the aether, but here are the absolute gems, the ones I can’t stop thinking about. Some are popular, others less known.

My tastes might not be yours, but I am drawn to excellent writing, slow burns, power dynamics and a healthy dose of twisted kink. So! ONWARD!

Note: The Shape of Me Will Always be You and Consenting to Dream are a given.

Blackbird by @emungere - “Shortly after Will kills Garret Jacob Hobbs, he and Hannibal stumble into a D/s relationship. It's a relief to have Hannibal telling him what to do, but the closer they become, the closer he gets to realizing who and what Hannibal really is.”

I love D/s Hannigram and this was exquisite. Everything by emungere is, of course, but this is my favorite.

Bram Stoker’s HANNIBAL by @dbmars - “Hannibal + Bram Stoker's Dracula + the classic novel = a new version of the seductive vampire legend.”

A love letter to both the 90s film and the original work. This is the longest fic I read this year and it consumed me for weeks. It’s gorgeous, sexy, beautifully-written and every casting choice made me kick my feet with glee.

Secretary by FragileTeacup and ThisIsMyDesignHannibal - “Will Graham needs a job. Since quitting the FBI, he’s been adrift for months, broken and lost; chasing a desire he doesn’t understand in increasingly destructive ways. What he needs is stability, direction, something to help put his life back in order and quiet the buzzing in his head.”

Secretary is one of my favorite films ever, and this take on it had me foaming at the mouth. It’s so good. SO GOOD.

Hinterland by @pastelwell - “When they crash into the water he believes it’s over. He followed his final impulse to do the right thing by his friends, his family, the world. The last flutters of morality within him had guided him, even as he looked into the eyes of a murderer who had somehow compelled his fall from grace. Here, in the frigid deep waters, their chapter is closed and their story is concluded. Except it isn’t. This is just the beginning.”

A divine post-fall fic of rehabilitation, angst, longing and some of the hottest smut imaginable. I love a post-fall fic and this is top-tier!!

With skin intact and altered souls by romanticallyinept - Will snorts his laughter, shifting to tuck his hands under his arms. “Come on,” he says, turning his head to look over at Hannibal. “The chances of two serial killers being in one car would be astronomical.”

They’re both serial killers!!! What are the odds!! This one is so fun, so fucked, so hot. Really great dialogue.

Our Shadows, That are Bold, Sing by @highermagic - “The monster under Will's bed calls himself Hannibal. He has lived there since Will was old enough to have a bed. He is very smart, and Will likes him very much. He protects Will's dreams, wakes him when he has nightmares. He embraces Will with shadows that black out the morning light when dawn comes, and sings soft songs that Will doesn't know.”

Listen, I read basically every one of HigherMagic’s fics this year. They’re all, every one of them, incredible. This one really got me, though. Monster Hannibal is my husband now.

patroclus in furs by bleakmidwinter - “Will Graham has been acting in heterosexual porn for years but is fired when his manager encourages him to take a higher-paying job for a homosexual centric porn company. There, he finds his expectations turned upside down.”

This is obviously ABSURD but oh my god, did I love it. Will Graham having a sexual identity crisis with notoriously sadistic porn god Hannibal is like candy to me. 10/10.

Cuisine Euphonique by thecountessolivia - “Nightmares brought on by a gruesome case lead Will to some unorthodox therapy in the form of a YouTube cooking channel.”

Will gets obsessed with Hannibal’s secret ASMR channel. Incredible phone sex is the natural conclusion. The descriptions of sound in this are viscerally gorgeous.

Funeral of Flowers by thecountessolivia - “Venice, 1870. The heart of winter. The once great city republic is on its knees. The banned institution of Carnevale lives on discreetly in the masked balls that light up the grand palazzi of the rich and the well-born.”

Hannigram at Carnevale. Sumptuous, longing, decadently described historical AU. Loved this to death.

Black Rock Mountain by bokunojinsei - “Will is a hitchhiker with questionable hobbies. Hannibal is a man who has questionable motives. When Hannibal drives by Will who just so happens to need a ride, things quickly take a turn from the questionable to the downright depraved.”

An even smuttier They’re Both Serial Killers fic that had me howling in the streets. You want bloody horny Hannigram? This is elite!!

To Fuel Your Radiance by GoldenUsagi - “AU where Will is the actual Devil. After Hannibal sells his soul, a fascination begins to develop between them. Will is intrigued by the unique monster Hannibal is, while Hannibal thinks Will is the most magnificent thing he's ever encountered. As their conversations continue, their involvement with each other becomes something else entirely.”

I’m not gonna lie, I think this was my favorite fic I read this year. Will as The Devil is so hot I screamed. There’s a scene at the end that is so fucked I lost my mind. Not even close to safe or sane. A masterpiece.

The Night Owl by sourweather - “Will works the graveyard shift at his University's 24 hour Library. There's another student who only comes in to study in the dead of night. Will can't explain why, but something about that boy has caught his attention.”

College AU! COLLEGE AU! Featuring some great Beverly fun.

An Ounce of Wit by winddragon - “AKA a modern magical AU where the entire point is to turn Will Graham into a catboy.”

The infamous Will is a Catboy fic that is somehow SO good. I had to be convinced to read this but I’m so glad I did. It’s an absolute delight, and the dark magic is so cool?! Goofy, yes, but delicious.

old-fashioned divinity candy by antiheroblake - “the relationship between old money, med student hannibal lecter and his newly rich sugar daddy, will graham”

An ongoing WIP that has me hooked by the throat. If you like the boys being absolutely stupid for each other and also absolutely stupid about it, you’ll eat this up. Young Hannibal is such an idiot. I love him.

in the gruesome do we trust by sidnihoudini - “Hannibal and Will have murder husbands mind palace sex, and Alana watches obsessively.”

I mean, it does what it says on the box. It does it SO WELL. Honk honk and, if I may add, awoooga.

show me where it hurts (I’ll lick it clean) by antiheroblake - “at 18, will inherits a ranch upon the death of his father, a man who died from a supposed family curse. at 33, will becomes prone to accidents, and the new town doctor starts to see him more than he sees his cattle.”

Accident-prone Will in the Old West HATES his sexy new doctor. You won’t believe what happens next!!!

Bring Out Your Desires by TheCosmicNSFW - “After spontaneously having to save a man's life inside an ambulance, Hannibal Lecter finds Will Graham being naughty in the bathroom. He decides that Will Graham might be a more valuable asset than he originally thought, and he convinces Will to let him work out his true desires - but is offering your mind to Hannibal on a silver platter such a great idea?”

An ongoing Hypnosis Kink fic that has absolutely inspired some of Fever Dreams. Bonus points for a fic that gave me a new kink!! Doesn’t happen every day!

The Sugar Bowl by BelladonnaWyck and raiast

Listen, ok, I like a sugar daddy fic. I’m picky about them, though!! This one involves University Will and he’s such a perfect mess.

Mine to Touch by piginapoketuesday - “Will's neck flushed with fear. Never being allowed to feed himself again. Learning to associate food with a swollen, untouched cock. Swallowing prettily and on command. His body betrayed him, and he moaned around the fork in his mouth.”

This one popped up during my exploration of the Sub Will Graham tag and woooooof, yes. Yes!!

2 weeks by EarthsickWithoutYou - “After reading the news of Will's marriage to Molly, an incarcerated Hannibal cannot bear their separation or his own jealousy any longer. He breaks out and finds Will, proposing a bet: that Will gives Hannibal two weeks to prove his love and convince Will to run away with him. If Hannibal succeeds, they will be together for life, but if he fails, he'll return to the BSHCI and never see Will again. With Hannibal's heart on the line and Will's inner moral conflict hard to hear above the roar of his longing for the killer, what choice is he going to make?”

Insanely jealous Hannibal + bone-deep yearning + “I can give you what she never could” = 🔥🔥🔥🔥😤🥵

Appetites of the Flesh by Magnetism_bind - “Will gets aroused at murder scenes. Eventually this gets noticed.”

A rec from @graciereadshannigram that also introduced me to a new kink. It’s twisted, obviously, but godDAMN it’s hot. And speaking of Gracie…

CrimsonDesires by Scifibabe - “Post-fall, Will and Hannibal discover that Alana became a bestselling erotic novelist and surprise! She based her characters on Will and Hannibal. Drunken dramatic reading of various passages ensues.”

This is absolute crack and I ate it up like ICE CREAM. A kick-your-feet delight. Watch as Will blushes so hard he nearly dies. And lest we forget my fave of her Kinktober fics…

Touched for the Very First Time by Scifibabe - “One night post-fall, Will proposes something new: letting Hannibal seduce him as if it's his first time. As Will slips into a younger, more hesitant version of himself, he’s reminded of all the things he's never let himself fully experience. With Hannibal guiding him through each step, Will discovers just how much he still craves being taken care of, in every sense.”

This blew my mind. It’s so hot. Thank you for the food!!!! Bonus mention for the Daddy Kink Fisting episode.

act on it by acheforhim - “Will is lonely and his long-distance fuckbuddy encourages him to pursue Hannibal.”

It took me MONTHS into reading fic to give omegaverse a try. I’m still fussy about it, but this one is so hot.

Graham Cam by bigfootghostdick - “In nearly every aspect of his life, Hannibal is wholly unabashed in the endeavors he chooses to take on, especially where Will is concerned. At his core, he lives outside the realm of societal norms, so in a twisted effort to learn more about the beautiful empath that has captured his attention so utterly, he decides to install hidden cameras inside Will’s home.

Will is blissfully unaware…or is he?”

Hdhagahajajbfdg.

Illicit Affairs by EarthsickWithoutYou - “AU in which Will is living a quiet, safe, but deeply conflicted life in Maine, married to Molly but secretly longing for his dark Becoming. Mired in self-hatred and despair, he seeks comfort in the church. But things get very complicated once he meets the new priest at his parish, Father Hannibal Lecter.”

I have a massive Priest Kink and this did it for me in every way possible. I love how all of EarthsickWithoutYou’s fics are so deeply religious. I’m not, but I love reading it!!

suffer does the wolf by cedarbranch - “Under extreme physical duress, a werewolf's transformation cycles may fall out of phase with the moon. Will has experienced it once before. He'd hoped he never would again. But the fall was not kind to him, and when two full moons pass afterwards with no sign of a change, something has to give.

The solution: a tight leather collar, woven through with pure silver chain to prevent unwanted transformation. Will hates the collar. But it might be different when Hannibal's the one putting it on him.”

I may be iffy on omegaverse, but I LOVE fics where Will is a werewolf. It just suits him. That plus BDSM power dynamics? SOLD

even though our love is doomed by bleakmidwinter - “Hannibal solves the mystery of time travel and he and Will decide to go into the past and take opportunities previously missed along with rewriting the regrets they each hold. Changing the past does not effect the future and they have free reign to play as the please.”

I loved this, oh how I loved this, particularly when they fuck themselves. What a treat for me!!

How to Be a Good Boy: A Guide for the Novice Werewolf by HigherMagic - “Will gets scratched by a strange dog during the full moon.”

I told you I like Will as a werewolf and this is peak!!

WHEW. I know there are more I could add and some I’ve lost track of or forgotten, but these fics changed me!! I obviously pored through the archives of a few authors - HigherMagic, emungere, MissDisoriental, thecountessolivia, EarthsickWithoutYou, Scifibabe, antiheroblake, bleakmidwinter and DBMars all kept me fed this year! 🖤 without all their incredible work I never would’ve started writing my own fic, so I’m deeply grateful.

I love this fandom and now that you can see my tastes, I am very open to your recs 🖤🖤🖤

[reallyromealone]

Hear me out. Bonten Mikey x omega male reader

A few years after mikey and m/n broke up, mikey discovered that m/n has a 6 year old daughter who looks like a copy of mikey, and mike like connects rhe timeline and realizes m/n was pregnant at the time of their break up but m/n never told him bc he didnt want his kid to be involved in the mafia/gang shit

-🐰 (late birthday gift for me 🥹?)

It's A VERY LATE FIC I'M SO SORRY

🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐

(Name) smiled as he put his little pups hair in pigtails, her bangs/fringe pinned back with a cute bubble hair band, today they were visiting Draken and Inui and little (daughters name) wanted to dress her best for her favorite uncles--- don't tell the others.

(Daughters name) was (name)s world, the sweetest little pup in the world who was absolutely precious.

Though sometimes it hurt to look at her, she was literally a spitting image of her father-- (name) never realized how feminine Mikey looked till his pup came into the world, but he loved her so much. She was the kindest and most selfless little thing ever. It wasn't the easiest at times but with the support of his friends he managed. Just starting first grade, (name) was thankful to work at the bike shop and being able to collect his little sunshine.

"Don't forget the cookies papa!" (Daughters name) said excitedly as left for their visit, without a care in the world.

Many would ask "where's the sire" upon learning (name) was a single parent, the question annoying and invasive but (name) always lied and made up an excuse about the father being overseas and such.

He refused to let anyone know about the actual reason, that being (daughters name)a father was the most dangerous man in Tokyo, (name) was thankful as much as he was hurt that Mikey dumped him.

He refused to let anyone go through what he did with Kanto Manji Gang.

With what Mikey was quickly becoming.

It was sheer /fucking/ chance that Mikey was waiting for the light to change in his limo as (name) stood at the cross walk holding hands with--

Holy s h i t.

"...boss are you seeing what we're seeing" Kakucho and Sanzu stared in Shellshock as they looked at a tiny Mikey with pigtails and a little dress, all of them doing the mental math and coming to a quick realization that holy fuck (name) was pregnant.

He was pregnant that day, oh my god that's what he wanted to talk to Mikey about!

"What are your thoughts on kids?" (Name) asked awkardly as they ate dinner, Mikey surpisingly home for once to do so "annoying, would get in the way" the blond said simply "a liability"

(Name) forced himself not to place his hand on his stomach, anxiety riddling his body "I see..."

"Why?"

"Just curious"

Mikey was always so disinterested in (name) these days, (name) always suspected that he was cheating, never saying anything though.

(Name) wanted to just scream.

Mikey remembered that night.

It was the night Mikey dumped him, a rash decision on his end and during one of his dark impulse moments.

He immediately regretted it after, the pained look on (name)s face and they hadn't seen each other since.

(Name) had many expectations of life, but seeing his ex sitting on his couch after he put his pup to bed, noticing the other Bonten men guarding the apartment "the fuck are you doing here" Mikey expected (name)a hostility and glanced up "that's my kid"

"What do you want Mikey" (name) wasn't having any conversation, he wanted to know what the hell he was doing here "I want to meet my kid"

"And get involved in your bullshit? Absolutely not! "Babies are a liability" remember that Mikey?" He hissed out and Mikey sighed, knowing this wasn't going to be easy "I deserve to meet her"

"You lost that chance when you broke up with me, I'm not letting my daughter deal with your shit, Mikey you're /dangerous/! She's six and I don't want her to ever go through what I went through!"

"I can keep you both safe!"

"YOU COULDN'T EVEN KEEP ME SAFE!" (name) was crying at this point, so angry at his once beloveds audacity"I kept her away for a reason Mikey, you are dangerous! She gets to play with her friends and have sleep overs! Has sleep overs at the friends you left behind! She gets to have a childhood that isn't currupted!"

"Why can't you let her have that?" (Name)s voice was broken and his body shaking, he would sacrifice everything for his daughter and at this moment he would stand his ground.

Bonten would poison her.

"Can...can I just please /know/ my daughter"

(Name) was tired, he was tired of it all "if you can /promise/ me that nothing will happen to her, I will let you meet her but one slip up Sano and I will never let you see her again"

[sehodreams]

Pathetic people also fall in love

WC: 7.3K (I’m so sorry it feels like with every fic I write more)

S: Eunseok is busy enough with his life, he has an 8-year-old daughter and is overworked at his job, he didn’t need to add another thing to that list, so when he puts the unused room in his house for rent, he expects his life to become easier, not to wonder why his tenant is so hot!

TW and Tags: Singledad!Landlord!Eunseok x Tenant!Plussize!reader, aged up Eunseok for the story, all consensual, mutual pining, smut, p in v, use of condom (poor Eunseok is traumatized after his first daughter), fingering, mentions of dacryphilia, fluff (I think near the end, if you don’t think so please let me know and I’ll erase it from here), they’re just two losers falling in love.

Comment: Hey guys, sorry for not having post much lately, this was actually first a Sungchan fic because an anon asked me for a Singledad!Sungchan, but while writing I thought wth this is my baby Eunseok and changed it. I want to clarify that this is not dark at all, so be careful if you go through my other fics because most of them are, I’m all soft since 119, still hope you like it!

You were the best tenant anyone could ask for, and Eunseok knew that, so why was he acting as if he was desperate to drive you away?

When you moved to the room next to him in his house he had his doubts, you were younger than him, which usually meant problems, like drunk boys out of his house throwing up on his flowers at midnight, or loud music when he tried to work, but he needed the money and the extra help, and when he interviewed you, you were relatively fine, a young girl that moved away for school and was more than eager to help around for a significant discount on her rent.

You were so fresh, a 22 year old student with the character of an older sister, and he liked that, you always paid your rent on time and made cookies on friday night instead of going out, you also took care of his daughter when he needed to go out in an emergency at work, only asking for some food when he came back, so you were a good girl and the best tenant.

He couldn't lie to himself, he liked you a lot, which made him feel pretty much guilty, because you were just a sweet young thing who hadn't discovered how the world worked, while he, even if he was still young at his 27 years, had gone through everything in a rush, from heartbreak to disappointment and frustration, perfectly knowing he shouldn't look at you the way he did.

He had too many responsibilities to let himself be swayed your way, he had an 8 year old daughter, an overworking job and too many things on his shoulders, and your presence had started to bring him problems, especially at night, when he dreamed of fingering you in the kitchen before breakfast to thank you for making his coffee, or you receiving him in the entrance wearing nothing but an apron with flour stains, and after you gave him a taste of your freshly baked cookies, he dropped to his knees to taste something even better.

He dreamed all that and woke up feeling more tired than when he went to sleep, and with a painful boner that wouldn't leave him alone until he came over the bathroom titles when he took his quick morning shower, thinking of you with him there, taking his length like the good girl you were.

He couldn't look at your face when you said good morning, the guilt making him blush to his ears, wishing he could go back in time and not let his impulses win over him, because he was sure you would feel repulsed if you ever found out what he thought about you.

For you, he was just your landlord, the older guy with a daughter that worked in a restaurant and brought you leftover pasta every now and then, nothing more, and he had to come around that.

But you made it so hard, making breakfast with your pajama shorts and the thin t-shirts that showed your beautiful nipples, bending down with that gorgeous ass when you pulled the tray out of the oven, or with the sound of you vibrator that woke him up at 2 am, with your little moans going through his wall and making him gulp before he decided to wait for you to cum to go back to sleep.

He could help you, he thought that every time he heard you, he could walk the five steps to your room and fuck you like you deserved, nasty and rough, telling you how good you acted that day, making his favorite dish for breakfast, or playing with his daughter until he came back home, "Such a good girl, don't you want to be my little wife? Such a sweet thing should cum over a real dick every night".

His cheeks became red, he shouldn't be thinking that, not before work where he could do nothing to soothe the need.

He rushed to the door, with his coffee cup in one hand and his daughter backpack in the other, she was already waiting for him in the entrance when you ran to them, were you going to give him a goodbye kiss? He wished.

"I made too many of them yesterday, take them for lunch" you gave him a paper bag with two muffins, he felt the sweet aroma of them through the bag and his eyes followed your lips when you talked again, "I already put one in her lunchbox, these are just for you".

He wanted to kiss you so bad, he didn't care that your hair was still ruffled from your night, or that you weren't wearing any makeup at all, he thought you looked fucking gorgeous in that moment, and he wanted to kiss you to say thank you, thank you for being so good, thank you for treating his daughter with care, thank you for everything you do for him even when you didn't need to.

"Okay" he said, and left.

"Okay?" Sungchan asked when he arrived at work and told him what he did.

"Okay" Eunseok passed his hand through his hair, exhausted with everything, with his 10-hour shift, his daughter telling him she missed him, and his body not being able to sleep properly because it needed his tenant.

"What an asshole, that sweet thing just gave you two of the best muffins in the world for free, she made your coffee and helped you get your daughter ready for school, and you say 'okay', not even a 'thank you'? Man, if I was her, I'd leave your pathetic ass immediately, doesn't matter how cheap the rent is" he grabbed one of the little pastries and was about to eat it when Eunseok snatched it from his hand.

"Mine" he said and walked away, making Sungchan scoff.

He didn't meant to be so cold, it was like his body was in survival mode, trying to save his feelings from getting hurt before he even got a chance to do something about them, it'd be too uncomfortable if things didn't work out, you were precious for him, and he didn't want to lose you, but if he kept acting like that, he wasn't just going to drive you off, but you'd hate him in the process, and he couldn't deal with the thought of you hating him, not like that.

That night, when he arrived from his shift, he brought pizza and your favorite drink.

He left them in the counter and walked to his daughter's room, the house was in silence, his daughter already sleeping in her bed and after giving her a good night kiss, he searched for you, you were nowhere sight, so you must be in your room, right?

When he knocked no one answered, where could you be?

You came out of the bathroom seconds later, with just a towel wrapping your body, your tits were overflowing from the grip it did to not fall and he couldn't help but watch you from head to toe, your uncovered shoulders, your soft thighs, even your pretty feet with red nail polish.

"Hey Eunseok, you're early today" you proceeded to tell him about what his daughter had for dinner and how she was sleeping already, and that you were waiting for him before you went out. Almost everything got lost in his ear, he was too busy watching your back and the drops falling down your neck.

"I brought pizza" was the only thing he could say.

"Thank you, I'll eat it after I come back" you closed your door before he could say anything more and, not knowing what else to do, walked to his room.

He looked himself in his mirror, his boner was showing in the reflection and his face was red, he really had a problem, so he took care of it while listening your soft voice singing on the other side of the wall, feeling like a pervert when he finished over his hand.

He changed his clothes for something more comfortable and went to the kitchen to eat a slice of pizza before bed, he was tired and even if he came back earlier than normal, his body was exhausted from all the nights without sleeping well.

He was just finishing his portion when you walked down, looking like a fucking angel ready to take him to the afterlife.

You were wearing a white flowy short dress, showing your beautiful curves and the full of your chest through the cleavage that made you look even more angelic.

But where were you going dressed like that? It couldn't possibly be...

Your phone sounded before he could ask and you ran to open the door, a skinny boy with long black hair was there, waiting for you with the worst resting bitch face he had ever seen, so different from your excited ear to ear grin, "Hi Wonbin" you said with your pretty smile, and he only gave an acknowledged nod in response. Asshole, he thought.

He couldn't say anything to stop you from going out, to scream how you were his and how that lanky boy couldn't give you what he could, he wouldn't appreciate you like he already did, because he didn't know how special and amazing you really were.

Eunseok, still in the same place, heard the door close and then a car starting outside, driving away.

He felt fucking pathetic looking at you smile to another man and leaving the house with someone like him, but maybe that little boy was better than him, even if he didn't like the thought, he could be younger than him, and not have a daughter, just a normal boy for his age, without the weight of thinking about the future, because he didn't have anyone who depended on his actions, just himself.

He closed the pizza box and grabbed a beer, such a pathetic loser, he told himself, having the girl he wanted so close and stopping himself from getting her, blaming his circumstances instead of the reality of him being a coward.

The night felt longer than usual, he used to think that nights didn't have enough hours to rest, and now, with you outside, he thought it felt endless.

He just needed you back home, to know where you were, and what you were doing, with him steps away, to know you were safe.

Hours passed and when the eleven-news started and some traffic accident showed on the screen, he heard a car park out of his place, recognizing your steps to the door. When you opened the door he saw you alone, with a sad look and your pretty hair different from when you went out, as if you tried to brush it with your fingers to look put together before you walked in. His blood wanted to boil at the thought of him touching a single strand of your hair, but he was too preoccupied with your face, what could've happened in your date for you to arrive like that? Was he the jerk he appeared to be? He knew that boy didn't deserve you, but at the same time he wished he was wrong.

"Welcome back" Eunseok said, giving you a small smile. You dropped your purse to the floor when you saw him, looking too exhausted to reciprocate the awkward greeting smile. He felt bad for you, you continued with the disappointed air all over you and he didn't know what to do to cheer you up, "there's still pizza in the kitchen".

You denied his offer, walking to the couch he was sitting, letting your body fall on the other side of it, leaving a big space between you.

You watched the news together for a couple of minutes, in total silence. He understood you didn't feel like talking, you went out after such a long time, getting all dolled up with a dress he had never seen you wear before and such uncomfortable shoes. You almost never went out like that, more into comfortable loose clothes, and around the house you never used make up. He still saw you gorgeous though, but Eunseok was different, he thought that when you had your hair up in a ponytail while cooking, or when you left his daughter use her toy makeup on you, and he loved to see you wearing that swimsuit when you played on the child pool with her, your tummy showing through the clothing and your full chest covered with a top that wasn't your size, it couldn't be your size, he swore that because every time you used it your tits were too much for it and the fabric was hanging on for its life over your body, which to be honest, was incredible hot for him.

And you did all that for a boy that couldn't even walk you to your door at the end of the date, he can't imagine what else did he do that night to make you come back home with such a disappointed look.

"How was the date?" He asked and sipped his can of beer, trying to appear nonchalant, like he didn't care, but he was dying to hear about it.

"It wasn't what I expected" you answered while taking off your high heels, he saw a little blister forming on your feet and he wanted to grab them and give them a well-deserved massage, he was dying to do something for you, but he shouldn't, so he did the only thing he thought would comfort you without him touching you, he passed you his beer for you to take a sip, which you did, you grabbed it and drank a big gulp of it, looking a bit more refreshed after, making him feel good with his choice. "He made me pay for the movie tickets" you continued.

Eunseok opened his mouth, not believing what you told him, he knew the boy was going to be a jerk, but to such extent?

"Yeah, I know" you said when you saw his surprised expression, making you laugh but from embarrassment. "I... I didn't know how to say no, we were already in the que, and I thought that maybe it wouldn't be that bad, maybe it was going to be just that and then he'd pay for the popcorn, I-I don't know what I was thinking"

Of course you knew what you were thinking. You didn't go out with him for the movie, you wanted to get laid, and he was the only one who had offered to go out with you after so long, you didn't have another choice.

You weren't an easy girl, you knew you deserved more, but since you had moved to Eunseok's house you felt more and more needy, praying every day for him to not notice how your thighs clenched when he was around you, or how you touched yourself when he took care of his flowers under the sun, the sweaty look of him was too much for you to contain himself, and you had fallen for various reasons, how he always took a few of his precious creations to decorate your room, how he always brought you your favorite pasta when it was on the daily menu of his restaurant, even how he made sure you were always comfortable around him and his daughter.

How could you not fall for a guy like that? So caring and sweet, and you lived with him, it was like torture to have his smell around you, his body, his warmth, and not be embraced by him.

The only reason you accepted to go out with Wonbin was because your friends told you he was going to be a good fuck, but the only nearly good thing that night were his guitarist fingers playing with your pussy during the movie, "for the ticket" he had said, but you honestly would've preferred the money. It felt good for a second, the teasing was hot, and you told yourself it'd get better, but when he took you to his car and to that dark place instead of a nice room and a comfortable bed, fucking you in his backseat and coming after a few thrust, all that after he asked you to give him head, pushing his fingers on your well braided hair, making a mess of it even when you told him you didn't feel like it, everything got boring for him and he drove you home in an uncomfortable silence.

You felt disgusting when he dropped you off and immediately drove away, leaving you there in front of the house, not even checking if you walked in safely.

The only thing you could think while walking those few steps to the house was Eunseok would've never treated me like that.

So, when you opened your door and saw him sitting in the couch, in front of the tv, when he should be asleep after a long work day, waiting for you, you wanted to cry, because he hates the news, and he would never watch them willingly when he could use that time to sleep instead.

You contained yourself and sighed, biting back your lip from quivering and showing how weak you felt at that moment, you were a big girl, and you couldn't cry every time something went wrong.

But you couldn't deny that you were also more vulnerable because of him those days, and how he was pushing you away when you tried to get closer, just that morning, when you gave him those muffins, it hurt you to hear the 'okay' came out of his mouth, it felt like you were being too much for him and he didn't know what to say to your advances anymore, and perhaps that's why those days he seemed in a worse mood, troubled with your presence near him.

When he offered you his beer you feel slightly comforted, how pathetic, you thought, a girl feeling comforted just because the guy who was rejecting her gave her a sip of his beer.

Some pop star was in a dating scandal and you couldn't care less, but you didn't want to leave, you wanted to be with him for more time, as long as he allowed you.

"Did you want to go out with him?" He asked after a couple minutes. You denied with your head.

He finished his beer, so he got up and walked to the kitchen, coming back with two cans and opening one for you, sitting slightly closer this time.

"Then why did you accept?" Some politician was talking about being honest on his campaign, what a bullshit, he would lie, just like you, a normal human being, has being done since you came to that house, acting like you didn't feel anything for Eunseok, and that everything you did was out of your heart, it partly was, but you did it more eagerly because you wanted him to look your way, to maybe see you different, not the young girl that rented the room next to his in his house, and if not an equal partner, at least some kind of comfort from his daily life, something to come back after his tedious routine and that could give him the peace he needed, just like he and his home did for you.

You decided to not lie anymore, if he asked you something, the least you could do was to be honest with yourself and with him, you didn't have long until everything spilled out of the glass already full of your feelings, and it would kill you to move away from him, his daughter, his house, and everything that had become familiar to you those months, but if you were still going to get hurt, you should be honest before everything went to hell.

You drank another big gulp of your beer before talking again, to feel more confident, "I wanted to get laid". He almost choked with his drink, coughing and looking at your direction to try to find out if you were making a really bad joke or you were telling him the truth.

You didn't look at his direction, some festivity was about to start in a few days and the city was getting ready for a festival, it looks pretty, I should go with his daughter before I move out, you thought.

Every day you had contained yourself from going to his arms, kissing his lips and asking for him to pay you attention had come to that, and you had resigned to leaving when he asked you to, because if before he was uncomfortable, now he was going to find you unbearable, and it would kill you to stay and see the place you called home crumble in front of your eyes.

Still, you had never felt so free.

He saw the decision written all over your face, you knew what was going to happen next, and he was afraid of the outcome, of what was going to happen if you ever left him, what would he do without your coffee? Without your laugh filling his house, without the smell of your shampoo all over the room after you took a long shower, or with the way his daughter had started to depend on you for certain questions, just, what would he do without you?

He wanted to come home after his shift to be welcomed by his two favorite girls all over the world, and he was an adult, he would get over it with time, but he didn't want to, he had already compromised with many things, with leaving college, with not going to friend's parties anymore, with only drinking beer once a week, with not being the first place in his life never again, he had already accepted too many things, and you leaving wasn't one of them.

"Well, you didn't have to ask another man when you have me right here" he couldn't process what he said, he just said it, his lips moving before he could think twice. You stared at him taken aback from his words, you expected him to call you dumbass or anything along that, but he was making clear you had permission to see him not like your landlord or just an older guy, but like a man.

Your eyes interlocked and the tension got thicker, both of you were closer without any of you noticing, shoulders touching, and when you moved your face slowly towards him, waiting for him to tell you he didn't mean what he just said, he tenderly grabbed your face and made you kiss him, erasing all distance between you, finally.

Your eyes shut and you kissed softly at first, tasting the lingering bitter flavor of his cheap beer, enjoying every second of it, until you whimpered on his lips, and he, reacting to it, tapped twice with the palm of his hand over one of your thighs, to signal you that he wanted you to be over his lap.

You let your weight fall over him and he loved the way he felt your ass flushing with his knees, his hands roamed all the way from your waist to the softness of your legs and followed the same trail back, addicted to the way your body, even being bigger than normal and nothing like he ever had in the past, felt perfect on his hands, as if you had been designed for him and only him to touch and indulge in.

The hem of your dress had rolled with your movements and his hands didn't help neither, trying to lift it up as much as he could to feel the plump of your ass.

"To the movies with a dress like this one? Tell me the truth, did he finger you with people around? don't you feel any shame?" He asked, making you rock your hips over his boner. You sighed on his neck, not daring to look at him in the face, shame creeping your red cheeks.

"Why do you say that?" You asked curious of his remarks, they were true, but how did he know?

"Because he's no better than me, and I'd have done it too", he made you look at him, one of his hands still over your ass and the other on your jaw, admiring you over him, his glossy eyes were all over your face, from your flushing cheeks to your lips with the mild cherry color of your lipstick that was almost completely removed by his kisses "you're too pretty, no one would be able to resist" he said, lips finding your again, kissing you deeper, wanting to satisfy the part of him that had been screaming for your mouth every day until now, as if it was possible to ever calm it.

You started to blush even more, embracing him with your arms around his neck to kiss him better, and after a couple of seconds, when he let you breath and hide your face on his neck again, licking his lips and still making you bounce with the strength of his hands on your waist, moving you to his liking, his bulge perfectly touching your clit under your panties, you nodded to his past question, Wonbin did finger you, and you did feel shame, but with him, with Eunseok, you were sure you'd have let him take you right there in front of everyone and you'd have said thank you when he finished with you.

"I'm sure he fucked you, did he fuck you in his car? He doesn't look like the kind of boy who takes you to a nice room to give you what you deserve, I'm sure you couldn't even cum once with him, this sweet thing needs to be taken care of by someone who can handle it, someone like me" he whispered that to your ear, biting back his groans and making fun of you trying to hide your soft moans, adding to that the way you nodded to everything he said, he felt exhilarating, wanting to tease you even more, wondering what would happen, would you cry for him to stop? Or even better, would you cry for him to not stop?

The thought did things in him, and as a result, his thumb touched your pussy over the fabric of your panties, fumbling around it to feel how wet you were getting, making you moan louder than you expected, sensitive after being teased before but not finding the satisfaction you needed.

You supposed it was that, how Wonbin played with your pussy just hours before, you didn't think it was probably from all you went through for months, hiding the way you needed him, or how you played with yourself thinking of him behind your door, everything accumulating and being too much for you in this moment, the cathartic minute in which you finally were feeling his body against you, his aroma as close as you begged past nights, and his hands prying the place that suffered his absence the most.

"It hurts" you cried, begging for him to touch you directly with his hands. The air in the room was hotter and your untouched skin was burning. Your hips moved perfectly over him and he imagined himself making you lie on the couch to fuck you until you screamed, he was in pain too to be honest, too many nights needing you almost made him weak, but he wanted to enjoy it as much as he could, in case it was the only night he'd have the privilege of having you, to never forget you in case what you had decided for tomorrow didn't include him.

He kissed you again, he couldn't take you there, on his ugly old couch, he had to take you properly, like you should be treated, "I know baby, I know" he said, eyebrows frowning and breath hitching from getting closer to his orgasm, he had been too painfully untouched and sure you were the same, asking for each other at midnight, each of you in their own rooms, praying for the other to do something about their desire, "let's go to my room, okay? I know you can do it for me, I need to touch you more, and for you to be comfortable in every moment of it, my precious baby"

You wanted to tear up of how good he talked to you, giving and asking for compassion at the same time. For him, you had earned the right to be treated like that, to demand it from him, working hard and giving parts of you he didn't ask for and hadn't realized he needed until you came into the picture of his dull and exhausting life, making it brighter and more bearable every day you spent together.

You didn't want to move, so close of your first orgasm over his lap, but he clapped his hand over your thighs, telling you to move away from him "come on angel, I know you're a good girl, you heard me, let's go" you were a good girl, his good girl, so with the pain of your heart, and your clit, you moved out of his lap, letting him drag you by the hand to his room. The path was short, just the staircase and a couple steps to his room, but the way he was showing you his back, making you walk as fast as him to get to his bed, made your pussy throb. This was happening, really happening, and you smiled feeling content.

When both of you arrived to his room, a secret place you had never been able to set a foot in before, door always closed, you sensed the last line between you both blurring, because nothing, not even an earthquake, would make you get out of his bed tonight, you'd receive everything you had been yearning for, and you'd be grateful at the end, in case he only accepted you one time.

He kissed you again against his door, making you stand on your tip toes to meet his mouth. Your chest was touching his and you were dying for them to touch directly, without any fabric stopping your nipples from feeling his hard chest, even if he didn't train that much anymore, you had seen him come back sweating after a morning jog every sunday, waking up at 6 AM to come back with your favorite bread freshly baked.

While kissing he made you walk back to the bed, pushing you over it and taking off his shirt to then go back to his duty over you.

His mouth couldn't leave you alone, and groping everything he could with his hands and rutting his erection over your pussy, he made sure your lips, and your tongue, were focused on him.

"Please, I need more" you told him, tired of not feeling him on your skin.

He didn't answer you, two of his fingers found your clothed pussy and pressed your underwear, sensing how wet you were under his fingers, a big warm spot was formed, and he decided to not tease you anymore over it. His palm went under your panties, and if over your panties he felt you wet, now you were dripping. His hand was quickly covered on your juices immediately, making him groan, how could he tease his baby so much when she was suffering like that?

"Fuck, I’m sorry angel", two of his fingers found your hole and started to play with you, fucking you without problem because of how wet you were, and you received him like all the time, making him feel welcome with your warmth.

Your body was shaking under him, hands on his chest touching his skin, trying to grasp as much of him as you could, slightly pushing him away of how good he was working you with just with his fingers, but without the force to actually do it, it was just your body reacting to him, because you really wanted him to be closer.

"Wait-" strangled words wanted to come out of your mouth, he was so good with his hands your eyelids were fluttering and the only think you could see in the dark room, with the little light coming through his curtains, was his grin watching your pussy take his fingers, and his arm making that possible.

Two fingers became three and his hand started to fuck you more, like trying to find something inside you, fingers in and out on scissoring movements, until you started to cry louder and leak over his hand, making him feel proud of his work, "that's right baby, come on, cum all over my hand".

You had your first orgasm, making a mess on his hand and your panties, it was uncomfortable to keep wearing them, wet and sticking to you, so he took them off, making you lift your legs to take them. You didn't know if he could see you in that darkness, but he could, your pussy glistening was impossible to ignore, and the image in front of him was everything he had been dreaming of for months.

He took of your dress too, enjoying the view even more, you weren't wearing a bra, and your tits jumped in front of him, gravity making them fall a bit to each side of how big they were, so fucking hot.

His mouth went to your little buds, tongue flicking over one and grabbing the other, and exchanging the work between each of them after he thought it was enough attention to one. They were so soft under his hand, skin overflowing his grip and making him think maybe I should die here, because there was no place more comfortable than there over your beautiful chest.

"Eunseok, please don't tease me" You cried under him, you had watched him so concentrated on your chest you didn't want to distract him, but the pain on your pussy was becoming too much for you, and you were still leaking all over his grey sweatpants.

"Such a crybaby" He smiled, pulling down his sweatpants and his boxers, just enough to free his cock and put the condom he had on his nightstand, he wanted to fuck you, but he had already learnt his lesson, he wanted to take care of you for a long time, to fuck you many more times. He slapped your pretty cunt with his length, enjoying your little jolts. "Sorry, it's because you're the prettiest girl, I couldn't contain myself" he said, pushing his dick over you, simulating the way his cock was going to fuck you in just a second, you opening your legs even more without you intending to, all so he could be closer to you "I'll give you what you want, don't worry" he kissed your forehead to take your attention away from the tip of his dick sliding through your hole, but it was so long he still had you squirming under him, even with all the preparation, you felt him stretching you like no one had done before, "You're dripping all over my bed, it's because of me or him?" He asked after his cock made a wet sound when he finished pushing it into you.

"Uh?" You couldn't process his words, too lost into the sensation of his cock inside you, fucking your guts, so deed the only thing that went through your mind was fuck me, fuck me.

"Who made you like this, me or him?" He repeated his question and you realized who he was talking about, Wonbin, and even if he had fucked you, he was nowhere near Eunseok.

"You, Eunseok, just you" you cried, his hips had stopped for a second to hear your answer, and when he heard the desperation on your voice, he understood you weren't telling him just what he wanted to hear, but the truth. Your nails started to mark his back and he, because of the intensity of the moment, didn't feel it, too concentrated on the sensation of your walls accepting him so easily, something uncommon for him since his length was bigger than normal, but of course his little angel would do it without problem, you were made for him, and he had no intention of ever sharing you again.

His hips moved again, pulling as far as he could to dive all in, making your tears drop one by one of how good you were feeling, you felt high, like touching the sky, and with each trust he took you back to earth, to that room, demonstrating you how the only thing you needed to feel complete was him.

Your heart was racing, you could hear it beating on your ears, but you didn't know what was that you were hearing, his cock making you ignore anything else that wasn't him and his groans.

"Fuck, so tight, has no one been taking care of you since you came here? I'm sure your little toy doesn't compare" he asked and the rhythm of his hips increased, his cock pushing deeper with each thrust. "Were you thinking of me when you used it? Did you want me to hear it so I could go to your room and fuck you?" You shook your head, you used it because you were too horny after spending time with him, and just the image of him coming back home with his white shirt and his ruffled hair made you crazy, he always looked so stressed you had to resist the temptation of dropping to your knees to suck his cock when he told you your daily good night, your mind only repeated I'm here, please use me!, and without being able to receive anything from him, you had to rely on your toy.

You wanted to talk and tell him everything, but no coherent sound came out of your mouth, your insides were being so fucked any function in your mind had shut down, focusing only on your pussy and the pleasure he was giving you.

You couldn't talk and that frustrated you, making multiple tears fall down your cheeks, sobbing at this point. Your hands didn't want to let him go and you tried to hug him and get him closer to you, but you were crying so loud he had to stop to check on you one second, to make sure you were okay.

He looked at you worried "what's wrong baby? Am I being too much?" He caressed your cheek with his thumb and cleaned the strand of tears.

You denied, focusing all your mind into talking again "feels so good, please don't stop". He stared at you for a long time, appreciating your face and your body, trying to get all into his memory to never forget how beautiful you looked at that moment, crying for him and his cock, begging for him to not stop.

He didn't know what he would do if he couldn't fuck you again, if before he was deep into you, now he was in a place that had no escape.

You moved your body under him, trying to get the same feeling from seconds ago, making you forget everything again, making you forget who he was, who you were, and what would happen after you both finished.

"You have no idea of how much I fucking like you" you wanted to say me too when he talked, but his hips had started to work you again and you could only moan loudly when you tried to talk, so you decided to bite your lip to stop being too noisy instead. "I'm sorry baby, I know you want to be loud, but we'll get in trouble" you nodded, understanding why he said that. He put his hand over your mouth and kissed your temple while fucking you, pushing you to the same abyss he was in, needing more of your juices to make a mess over his bedsheets, to let your smell linger around him for more time.

The way he was looking at you was something you'll never be able to forget, something you had never seen before, no one, in all your life, had stared at you with such intensity, full of need and possession, like screaming mine, mine, mine, and you couldn't correct him, he was right, you were his.

Your walls clenched around him and he let your mouth free to kiss you again, his tongue had intruded into your mouth, stealing the little air you had and making you even more dizzy, mind scattered all around the room like your clothes, pushing his dick in a more erratic way, not calculating so much how and what to push, just feeling.

"I'm so close, cum with me angel, fuck" his hips were practically punching yours, making the sound of both skins clapping so dirty you felt yourself tightening just with it. You nodded, both of his arms were on each side of your head and your hands held onto them, trying to not fall wherever you felt you were about to, as if he was going to push you, with him, into some state of clarity you had never experienced before.

He did push you into something new, the orgasm was so hard you lost yourself for a second, mind becoming black and eyes rolling for a long moment, your heart and breath completely stopping and toes curling into the bed, feeling his cock throb inside you while some liquid leaked out of your used pussy.

He brought you back to reality with soft kisses. His hair was sweating over your forehead, and you felt his skin sticky against yours, but you felt complete, after so much time, you were where you should be, in his room, on his bed, with him and only him.

He let his body fall over yours, squishing you with his size, his cock was still inside you, and you didn't want him to move, he could stay like that all night if he wanted, you'd never ask him to move.

Sadly, he moved apart minutes later, when both of you had regained their breaths and your hand was caressing his broad back. He lifted himself, still between your legs, pulling his dick out of you to remove the condom, making you whimper a protest. He laughed quietly, looking down at you, such a needy baby.

He walked out of the room and you started to get doubtful, was he going to regret everything you had done? You loved every second of it, you didn't want to be apart from him ever again, but maybe... Maybe he just needed some release.

Your eyes started to get wet, you always thought you would be satisfied with one time, but you became greedy after feeling his touch, and one time would never be enough again.

He came back minutes after, you heard his steps, but you didn't turn back to him, afraid of what he would tell you.

"Angel, I brought you your tea, have some before you sleep" he touched your shoulder and made you look at him, when you did, he gave you the softest smile and moved a strand of your hair out of your face. You wanted to cry again, touched by his treatment.

You drank some of it, still fresh and cold, while he cleaned you with a wet towel between your legs, so you could sleep more comfortable.

Then, when you gave him the cup, he tossed the used towel away, and, after leaving your cup over a couple of his gardening magazines on his nightstand, he made you cover yourself under his bedsheet, lying next to you, accepting your hug into his arms and giving you a goodnight kiss on your forehead, erasing all doubts from your head, because he'd never be able to give up on his little angel again.

[virginiathegray]

Wisdom Wept, and Hope Replied

*major spoilers for Dragon Age: The Veilguard* a quick fic on what I imagine the moments immediately following the Solavellan ending in Veilguard might have looked like since I couldn't stop thinking about it...hope u enjoy <3 solas x f!lavellan | 834 words | oneshot also on AO3 here ~~~

The fade tear closed behind them.

For a moment, they both just stared forward, taking in the blighted black city before them, the prison for gods that would now become their…home? A place born from regrets that, as they watched, shifted into a new shape. A black spire melting into something resembling a waterfall, elven statues growing broad, regal horns.

Crestwood.

That first eternal beat passed from the present as understanding dawned. Solas’s stiff shoulders curved, then crumbled, then collapsed with him as he fell to his knees.

She followed him down. As she always had, as she forever would.

“I am here,” she said.

“You are.” His head hung low, tucked into his chest. Blackened droplets of blood from still-open wounds caressed his lips as they fell. He did not speak another word, did not move a single muscle. Not for ages.

Her prosthetic hadn’t followed her into the fade. Only the shadow of a lost hand remained, a glowing green figment of raw magic where the anchor once tethered itself to her spirit. But this shadowy remnant could touch and feel like the real thing, a truth learned only when she brushed it over his cheek, wiping away the blood to reveal the cut beneath. Hissing a breath between her teeth, she wondered briefly if the fade had something as mundane as stitches and gauze.

Would he even let her tend his wounds? Something in the familiar rush of water, the whispering of leaves from a moment ten years past, resurfaced old hurts. Was she ever the fool, nipping the Dread Wolf's heels as he ran from her?

There wasn’t much time to ponder it. One moment, she looked at his split lips, and the next they were on her, frenzied and wanting and warm against her mouth.

Over the years, she'd had plenty of time to analyze those few kisses she shared with the trickster god. The first, quick and sweet and impulsive on her part, indulging in the magic of the fade and the easy smile of the man who walked so confidently through it. The second, only moments later, drawn back as she turned away to hide her embarrassment. Then the third, the caress of his arms as they curled around her. Perhaps she should have known the truth of him then, in that kiss. Nothing in all her life had ever felt quite so divine. God-like.

And so many more, combed over in detail long after that final goodbye eight years ago. But this was not any of those kisses. No, this was desperation. Hunger. The great wolf, wounded and starving, descending upon his harvest.

She was no limping halla separated from her herd, however. This was her bounty, too, and when the initial surprise passed, she swelled into the kiss, into him, submitting herself to that sense of return, of home, that lay within his arms.

But then he winced, and her passion cooled.

“Vhenan,” she said against his mouth, starting to pull away.

“No,” he growled back and kissed her again.

“Solas.”

He made one last valiant effort, a peck at the corner of her mouth that lingered in its intimacy, but he obeyed the unspoken command in her voice and pulled away. Only by a breath.

“I am more the fool and coward than I ever dared admit, and for those follies I will pay eternal,” he said, staring at her lips, at the blood smeared there from his kiss. “Tomorrow there is work to do, to make this place a home for you, or to cut a tear so that you might escape it.”

He wiped the blood from her face, brow furrowed. Not for the first time, she wished she could read the thoughts behind those troubled eyes. Would he try to send her away, as he always had? Had her vow to him truly meant so little? Did he still believe her misled, her love tarnished by his own lies, even now as she stood by his side at the edge of the world?

Mercifully, he spoke, quieting her fears.

“But that is tomorrow, and eternity waits. In this moment I am selfishness incarnate. Your gift is one I don't deserve, your spirit meant for gentler things, but I claim it if you will have me, Vhenan.”

Her hand found his cheek, and he nuzzled his face into her palm.

“Please,” he whispered. “Have me.”

At last. A request in that pleading voice, not to leave him behind but to draw him close. Perhaps he thought it selfish, but she was selfish, too, and oh, how she’d missed him.

Around them, something like sunlight peeked through blighted clouds. Flowers bloomed at their feet. Something beautiful was being born here, but neither dared look from the other's eyes.

“Dread Wolf take you,” her clan used to say. Perhaps he had. But in this moment, with a dip of her chin and a meeting of swollen lips, she took the Dread Wolf, too.

[anto-pops]

The Hypothesis - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader

Summary: The hand on your throat was gentle but firm, and your stomach flipped at the vulnerability of it all. You weren’t even sure you had it in you to do what he was asking but Merlin, did he make it sound enticing. Somewhere in your brain the sixteen year old version of yourself was combusting. How many times since starting school had you fantasized about Sebastian? About the two of you tangled in sheets and lost in the euphoria of one another? You could scarcely believe some of the fantasies your hormonal teenage mind had conjured up, but you had never considered anything as bold as this.

Alternatively summarized as pure, shameless Sebastian smut

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit content

Full fic can be found here on Ao3

It was easy for you to tell when things were getting bad again. 

At first you had chalked it up to your menstrual cycle, as embarrassing as that was. It wasn’t unusual for you to get headaches or chills, or even act outright cruel when it was that time of the month. But the more time passed, the worse things got, and you knew the night you woke from a nightmare with red bolts crackling over your arms that this was decidedly not your period. 

Isidora’s magic now lived inside you, as volatile and unpredictable as it was powerful. Absorbing it had changed you on a molecular level- you were no longer the sixteen year old girl who had arrogantly believed she could wield a magic darker than the Unforgivable Curses. You knew with each passing day you were drifting further and further from the person you used to be, falling victim to your darker impulses routinely. Less of your excursions beyond the castle walls ended peacefully. In fact, you often sought out fights. While most of the Ashwinder camps and Poaching Rings had been taken care of in the years since Ranrok, there were always stragglers. 

You took a disturbing amount of pleasure in ripping those people apart. 

All due in large part to Isidora’s magical goodie bag you’d elected to open. The accumulated power demanded to be used, and at this point it took everything in you not to lose control in the middle of your classes. Despite the sheer magnitude of your abilities, you had never felt weaker. Your magic had never been something you had to war against in your own mind, and you certainly had never perceived it as a threat to yourself. 

Now though, you weren’t sure. 

The only person you’d been able to confide in about it all was Sebastian. Sebastian, who had made good on his promise to you and Ominis to stay the good course. Sebastian, who had worked harder than anyone to coexist with the demons you knew still raged in his head. He was, quite literally, the only person you could imagine sharing your turmoil with. Picturing Ominis’ particular brand of disappointment at your revelation had made you sick to your stomach for a week before you had banished the idea entirely. 

Sebastian, though. His sharp eyes had darkened when you’d told him the truth of what you’d done below Hogwarts and how you feared losing control. The way you tamed the raging fire inside of you with fighting and blood. The piercing regret you felt at ever taking this cursed power out of the repository in the first place. He had only looked at you with curiosity, maybe even a little admiration, before gathering you in his arms. 

“I won’t tell a soul, you have my word.” 

The Slytherin boy had come to you with an idea shortly thereafter. A hypothesis if you will, he had said. With instructions to meet him in the Undercroft after ten, you’d made a point to fly out towards the Clagmar Coast in the hours before dark. Regardless of Sebastian’s so-called ‘hypothesis’, you didn’t want to risk feeling… overwhelmed, when you met with him. The power from the repository had a way of buzzing in the back of your mind, steadily getting louder if you chose to ignore it. If taking out a few scattered Poacher camps quieted it down some, you would happily do so. 

By the time you returned to Hogwarts, there were no students milling about. It made for a peaceful trek to the Undercroft, allowing you to gather your bearings and blink the fog from your mind. While you didn’t plan to put much stock into Sebastian’s unknown idea, the least you could do was hear him out. If whatever he wanted to suggest was something that could make existing with this power more bearable, you were willing to try. It scared you to think about what you would become in a few months, or in a year. Would you even be the same? Or would you end up a husk of your former self, controlled by the very magic you had been hell bent on taking in the first place? 

It seemed like the most plausible outcome. 

The iron gate clanged back into place behind you as you stepped into the Undercroft. Noting the dim lights and rearranged crates towards the back, you scanned the room and found no sign of the boy who had summoned you. 

“Sebastian?” 

Footsteps sounded to your left, and you looked in time to see Sebastian push off the wall and make his way towards you. Immediately you noticed he was missing his cloak. Then you saw his white button up and dark trousers, and you realized you had never seen him so dressed down. His stride was full of purpose, a predatory glint in his eyes as he came to stand less than a foot away from you. 

Instinct screamed at you to move back. In your experience, anyone getting that close to you usually meant they were going to try and kill you. But this was Sebastian, you reasoned, and mentally chided yourself for even letting the thought cross your mind. So instead you tilted your chin up to meet his penetrating gaze. 

“Care to enlighten me as to why we’re down here after hours?” 

His eyes flicked between yours for a few seconds before they began roaming, wandering down your stiff form. You still wore your travel gear, a black cotton ensemble with a small leather chest plate for protection. You’d crafted a sheath for the modest dagger you kept strapped to your thigh in case of emergencies, and the scarf you’d wrapped around your neck for the evening hung precariously off your shoulder.

Sebastian brought one of his hands up to your cheek, his fingers hovering slightly over the scar left from your battle in the repository years ago. “I told you. I want to test my hypothesis.” 

“Right,” you rolled your eyes and willed the churning in your gut to subside. “And we would get so much farther with that if I knew what you were talking about wouldn’t we?” 

A ghost of a smirk danced across his features, giving you whiplash. What was he thinking? And what the hell was he planning? 

He finally brushed the back of his finger down your cheek, the touch barely there. The featherlight feeling caused goosebumps to break out all over your skin. He trailed it lower, under your chin and skimmed the line of your jaw before you felt his digits splay across the slender column of your neck. There was no stopping the startled gasp that left your lips at the brazen action, and Sebastian seemed to take a deep rooted pleasure in it. 

“I want to believe that you’re out of control because you’ve been in control for too long,” he started to say and tugged you closer. “All that power simmering beneath the surface, it's all you can focus on, isn’t it?” 

There was no chance in hell you trusted yourself to speak, so you nodded. 

Now he was smirking, “I want to see what happens when you give up control. When you stop holding the magic back and just let it flow through you instead. Don’t be afraid of what’ll happen if you let yourself feel it— rather, open yourself to the experience. But I think we both know you’re far too uptight for that, and you’ll fight tooth and nail against your better urges, so I want you to let me take control. Let me steer the boat for a while. You just sit pretty and relax, sound good?”

The hand on your throat was gentle but firm, and your stomach flipped at the vulnerability of it all. You weren’t even sure you had it in you to do what he was asking but Merlin, did he make it sound enticing. Somewhere in your brain the sixteen year old version of yourself was combusting. How many times since starting school had you fantasized about Sebastian? About the two of you tangled in sheets and lost in the euphoria of one another? You could scarcely believe some of the fantasies your hormonal teenage mind had conjured up, but you had never considered anything as bold as this. 

Dumbly realizing you’d been gaping up at him like a fish, you gave his wrist a testing squeeze before nodding. “Alright… how?”

He smiled down at you in earnest, that lust filled look in his eyes deepening by the second. “Now where would be the fun in telling you?”

---

Butterflies was no longer an appropriate term to describe what you were feeling. No, at this point it was more akin to a hurricane tearing you apart from the inside, your anxiety heightened at having been rendered so helpless. Sebastian had wasted little time in whisking you over to the chaise lounge tucked behind the rearranged crates after you’d agreed to essentially let him fuck you. Because that’s what this was, right? He had yet to speak the words but his eyes communicated his intentions well enough. He had gotten to work quickly, tugging his tie from his pocket and coming to stand behind you. You had felt the silky material drift over your eyes before Sebastian knotted it snugly behind your head. 

Blindfolded. 

It hadn’t even been a full minute with it on and you were already shaking, the unknown aspect of everything you were about to do riddling you with undue stress. Sebastian zero’d in on your discomfort right away, sliding his arms around you from behind and pulling you against him. 

“Just relax, I promise you’re safe with me. We can stop at any point and if you don’t like something I do, tell me.” 

His thumbs traced burning circles against the thin cotton of your shirt. With him holding you this way, it was impossible to overlook the hard expanse of his torso pressed against your back. You were overcome with the unique scent of him; cedar and pine, and that telltale musk you could only identify as Sebastian. Unable to see, it felt all the more intimate having to rely on your other senses. 

You forced a shaky breath into your lungs and held it for a second before exhaling. “Okay.”

One of his hands abandoned your waist to trail under your shirt, relishing in the soft skin he felt waiting there. Deft fingers skimmed over your ribs, then your breasts, and you inhaled sharply as he took one of your nipples between his fingers and pinched. “So responsive. Have you ever let anyone touch you like this?” 

As though to punctuate the question, Sebastian moved down your breasts to feel along the plane of your belly to your nether region. His hand slipped beneath the waistband of your trousers, his fingers ghosting over where he knew you wanted them most, and he chuckled at the disappointed sigh you let slip. He nestled his chin into the crook of your neck so his breath tickled your ear as he asked, “Has anyone ever touched you here?” 

Shamelessly your hips twitched closer to Sebastian’s hand, desperate for some kind of stimulation. You were pathetic. Crumbling in his hands— as if you had even been put together in the first place. He drew his hand away from your aching core, clicking his tongue at you, and slowly guided you towards the chaise lounge. He continued to feel over your abdomen with his arms securely wrapped around you before stopping short of the cushions. “Good things come to those who wait,” he chided. “Or are you so desperate to be filled that you’re content to ride my fingers?” 

“Fuck, Sebastian.” You didn’t recognize your own voice. It sounded reedy- airy. Like you were already out of breath and he’d simply been whispering sweet nothings in your ear. 

You felt as he untangled his arms from your waist, then he spun you around and gave you a light shove. The backs of your calves connected with the lounge behind you, and with a barely contained yelp you collapsed onto the velvet surface. 

Sebastian was on you in an instant, his lips claiming yours like he had been starved of your very essence as he hoisted you further up the cushions. His hands were demanding, gripping your hips with such fervor as he kissed you that you were certain he’d leave bruises. You felt him slot his knee between your thighs for better leverage over you, but when he leaned forward to trail wet, hot kisses down your jaw, his leg pressed against that bundle of nerves at your core. 

There was no helping it, you moaned into Sebastian’s mouth at the sensation. Your sounds seemed to stoke the fire, given how he tightened his grip and practically rolled his hips against yours. He was clearly as eager as you were.

Sebastian broke the kiss first to sit back on his heels as he perched on your lap, your body effectively caged beneath his strong legs. His hands roamed over you, taking loose articles of clothing with him as he went, starting with your scarf. “You’re so fucking perfect like this. So willing and pliant.” 

He let the flimsy fabric flutter to the floor before his fingers were tugging at the strings that attached your leather chest plate to your shoulders. That was pried away and discarded along with the rest of the strappy accessories that littered your form. A gasp ripped from your throat as Sebastian’s hands found your breasts beneath your shirt again, kneading and squeezing the skin in a way that had a familiar feeling building within you. 

“I’ve always wanted to know what it would be like to lay with you. How you would feel, what you would look like falling apart on my cock. I want to see that facade slip- I want to watch you flustered and panting and full of my cum, begging for more.”

Without a shadow of a doubt, your brain was short circuiting. To hear such raunchy and filthy promises dripping from Sebastian’s mouth was enough to have you clenching your thighs around his knee, desperate for any kind of friction to accompany the wetness pooling there. He took note of your wriggling instantly and pulled his leg back, leaving you aching and mewling like a mongrel in heat. 

“Ah ah ah, that’s not very patient behavior now is it?” You could hear the grin in his voice as he slid away from you. The chill of the Undercroft covered you instantly, goosebumps breaking out over the exposed flesh of your torso. 

“P-please,” you heard yourself moan. You had no idea what you were even asking for, but you felt Sebastian’s warm hands begin to trail up the tops of your legs, towards the waistband of your pants, before swiftly yanking them down to your ankles. You could feel your face flushing red, the sheer intimacy of being exposed to him in nothing but your undergarments enough to make your heart pound against your chest and drown out the incessant buzz of magic in the back of your mind. 

His ministrations were thoughtful, seeing as he didn’t skip over an inch of skin. Soft, plush lips pressed against your inner thighs, eliciting a shiver from you, before he moved up higher to your naval. He placed another kiss there as his hands roamed up to remove your thin top. It took no time at all, and before you knew it you were laid bare before your most trusted companion. 

“You’re beautiful,” he said to you, causing you to flush deeper. “I’m serious. You’re perfect. All of you is perfect–”

You felt his thumb roughly press against your clit through your underwear then, and you gasped as you arched your back into his touch. “Right here especially. This perfect pussy, so wet for me and we’ve barely even started.” 

The slow, easy circles he traced against your most private area wasn’t enough. He was holding back on purpose, deriving some sort of twisted pleasure in denying you yours. Fighting the urge to buck your hips into his hand, your chest heaved with the massive breath you took in. 

“Questions? Comments? Concerns?” 

“I’m going to kill you if you don’t get on with it, Sallow.” 

You felt his body rock above yours as he barked out a laugh, removing his hand entirely from your clit, much to your dismay. “Is that so? Maybe I should quit while I’m ahead.” 

“No! Merlin, please— don’t stop, I just… I want—“ you blushed from embarrassment as you tripped over your words. The effect this man had on you… 

Sebastian chuckled and started to move so that he no longer caged your body to the lounge, and you instantly missed his weight and warmth. It didn’t last long, however. Before long he had slithered down to kneel in front of you, and you felt as he grabbed your waist and pivoted you so your legs dangled over the edge of your seat. The spark of arousal you felt at being so easily manhandled didn’t escape you. 

“I know,” he finished for you. “Believe me, I know exactly what you want. But you’re letting me steer remember? It wouldn’t be very nice to go back on your word now, would it?” 

You almost told him to hell with it, screw his hypothesis. You foresaw yourself flipping the two of you over so you could take exactly what you wanted from him whether he liked it or not. But then you felt his mouth dance over the thin cloth separating your wet heat from his soft lips, and the fight evaporated from you as the tip of his finger slipped under the fabric and tugged it away gently. 

This damned tie would be the death of you— you’d never wanted to look at someone this badly. The urge to snatch it off was intense. 

Sebastian trailed his fingers around your sex, the teasing touches working you into a frenzy as he took his time toying with you. His other arm came up to press down on your hips, preventing any unwanted jerking or bucking on your part. You were completely at Sebastian’s mercy, your mouth hanging open in a silent plea. 

When his lips closed around your swollen clit, you kicked your head back with a cacophony of sounds. Your cries seemed to fuel Sebastian as he kissed and licked at your center with reckless abandon. The feeling of your muscles tensing beneath him— because of him— drove him wild with lust. The arm bracing your hips pressed down harder as he probed your entrance with his tongue, and there was no stopping the drawn out moan you released at the feeling. 

As you fell apart before him, Sebastian drank in the sight. Your cheeks were flushed with desire, chest heaving with the sharp gasps and pants that fell from your lips. He could see the hair along your arms standing on end, and your kiss-swollen lips mouthed a slew of words that never came out. 

He knew then he was addicted to you. There would be no stopping what was to come after this. 

Quickly, and rather mercifully you might add, Sebastian replaced his tongue with one of his slender fingers, curling it upwards. It reached far deeper than before, the feeling making your toes curl. Letting your head tip back so hit the back of the lounge with a thunk, you heard and felt Sebastian chuckle against you. Taking your relaxed posture as a good sign, he pumped his finger a few times before tentatively adding a second. The stretch was uncomfortable at first, but with his skilled mouth making quick work of you, the discomfort vanished. 

“F-Fuck Sebastian, I can’t much longer, I’m— fuck—“ he silenced you with his tongue, never lessening his attention against your center as he felt you progressively get tighter around his fingers. The grip he had on you would surely leave bruises, but the thought of Sebastian’s marks lingering on your naked body pushed you clean over the edge. 

With a cry of ecstasy you came around Sebastian’s fingers, the stars dancing in your eyes blinding against the steady darkness of his tie. He held you through your orgasm, relishing in each tiny twitch that slipped through your limb body. His mouth stayed on you, overstimulating you until you found the strength to palm at his shoulder. 

He broke away with a wicked strand of saliva dangling between the two of you. The sight sent another bolt of arousal through him, his neglected cock straining against his trousers. 

A few beats passed, the only sound in the Undercroft that of your ragged breathing. Sebastian finally released your waist and scaled the lounge, caging you between the cushions and himself. Cupping your jaw he brought your lips to his, and the taste of yourself on his mouth had you sighing into the kiss. You felt like putty as Sebastian’s warm hands roused you from your post coital state. His tongue delved deep into your mouth, exploring and tasting every inch he could as he lightly pet your hair back. 

Breaking apart took an eternity, but at some point Sebastian opted to get on with things and stepped away from the lounge. You wanted to protest, but then you heard the metal buckle of his belt clink in a way that told you more was yet to come. The muffled sound of clothing being shed had heat pooling in your gut once again. Your knees pressed together instinctually. 

Watching you fall apart was as magnificent as Sebastian had always imagined it would be. Better, even. Seeing your body overcome with pleasure had imbued him with a sense of self-fulfillment that he only wanted to expand upon. Recalling your trembling legs on either side of him, your nails digging into the cushions of the lounge, and your unruly hair tumbling all around you; it only made Sebastian want you that much more. 

“So fucking perfect,” he murmured, and you whimpered.

In a split second Sebastian was ravaging you once again. You gasped as he curled those strong arms under your hips and yanked you down so you were flush with his achingly hard cock. Fuck, did you want to see him. The sheer size of him felt intimidating, his thick shaft pulsing with obvious desire against you, and you heard him groan at the feeling. 

You were positive his hands left scorch marks along your thighs as he gripped them, willing himself to maintain his composure and not slam into you all at once. An inherent, primitive part of him demanded that he fill you, mark you, claim you, all for himself.

On cue you wriggled in Sebastian’s grip, and your slick rubbing against the sensitive head of his cock was all the go ahead he needed. 

Despite his baser urges, Sebastian moved slowly as he aligned himself. He teased along your entrance a few times, committing your stuttered breathing to memory, before gingerly pressing the head into your tight heat. 

“F-Fuck darling, you feel incredible,” he breathed the quiet praises along the smooth skin of your leg, leaving a chaste kiss there before inching his cock in deeper. “Feels amazing.”

The intrusion felt so right in a million different ways. You could barely keep one thought in your mind before twelve more came and replaced it. At this angle you could feel every part of Sebastian sheathed inside of you. His fingers were nothing compared to his cock; it filled you in all the right places, rubbing tantalizingly along your sweet spot as he pulled out nearly all the way, and plunged back in. 

“Fuck! S-Sebastian, you’re so big—“ his hips snapping against yours dragged a cry from your throat, and your hands fisted uselessly against the cushions beneath you. 

Sebastian took note as he set a steady rhythm, grinding his balls against your ass with each rough pass of his cock. He released his hold on your leg, letting it fall against the seat as he gathered your wrists in one hand before pinning them against the back of the lounge. 

You were spread wide for him like this, with your hands restrained above your head and both legs knocked to the side. Sebastian’s free hand came to fist in your hair, tugging your head to the side to lick a wet stripe up the flushed column of your neck. He bit and sucked at the skin there, the sensation of teeth and his tongue laving over the bites too much for your fried brain. 

When he released your hair, you momentarily missed the sting of his grip before you felt the pad of his thumb press down on your clit. 

You didn’t even know what the hell you were saying. Words were definitely falling from your lips but aside from Sebastian’s name and a flurry of curses and moans, the rest got lost in translation. It was too much— without your eyes to take in the scene, your other senses were working in overdrive. Your sweat slick skin prickled, and you felt a shock pass between your and Sebastian’s conjoined hands above you. His grunts and shouts of your name pushed you closer to that familiar coiling in your gut. 

“Please please please— Sebastian I need to see you, please let me look at you. I can’t much longer— fuck—“

You heard an animalistic growl reverberate from deep in Sebastian’s chest before you felt him let go of your wrists and tug his tie over your head. The sight that greeted you was nothing short of sinful, as far as you were concerned. 

Gone was the lanky, boyish-cute Slytherin who you’d first met in your fifth-year. Sebastian was wholly a man now. His broad shoulders were well defined from years of dueling, and the muscles along his back were rippling with each concentrated thrust of his hips. The taut stomach you could now see made your mouth water, your fingers itching to trail down that patch of hair that led to where you were connected. His dark stare was trained solely on you, watching how you reacted as he drank in the hazy, fucked out look in your eyes. You reached for him then, and Sebastian let his fingers intertwine with your own before he shifted so you were flat across the lounge with his delicious weight pressed against your core. 

He began to move faster then, the force of his cock ramming into you causing you to slide up the lounge until your head bumped the arm rest and he was fucking noisy cries of his name right out of you. Tears pooled at the corners of your eyes, your second orgasm being dragged out of you, and you frantically began rutting back with the slightest give you were allowed. 

“More darling?” Sebastian sputtered out a broken moan in your ear, “You want more?” 

“Yes! Yes yes, please Sebastian please, give me everything— fuck—“

With a rough growl, Sebastian was pulling out of you entirely, leaving you whimpering and mewling your displeasure before his hands were back on your waist. You were boneless and completely at his mercy as he dragged you back down the lounge, looping one of his strong arms under your back so you were arched towards him as he rammed his cock back into you, not even pausing to draw breath before he was fucking you straight through the surface, brutal in how rough he was pounding into you but fuck— if it isn’t exactly what you needed. 

Your spine rounded further off the lounge as you flung your head back and wailed for Sebastian, your nails coming up to claw at his back and over his shoulders then down his arms, leaving angry red stripes in their wake. Your voice was so much needier, so much raspier than Sebastian ever remembered hearing it. As he thrusted into you with reckless abandon, his free hand trailing up your chest and gripping your throat again, squeezing just hard enough to pull you on to his cock with more force, and when your eyes flew open with a choked gasp, he saw the red sparks crackling behind the irises. 

When you finally came, you screamed, long and loud, and Sebastian knew better than to stop now, so he picked up his pace, fucking you through your orgasm while he chased his own. It didn’t take him much longer, the tight heat of your pulsing cunt more than enough to send him spiraling over the edge with you. 

Sebastian came with a grunt, the tempo of his hips faltering before he ground his cock deep within you and you felt him empty inside. The final sensation brought you higher than you ever thought possible, and through your closed eyelids you saw flashes of red all around you. 

Sebastian opened his bleary eyes and was greeted by one hell of a sight— you were glowing. Literally. Red sparks of lightning seemed to dance over your entire body, fizzling out at the top of your head and the tips of your fingers and toes. You were so caught up in the euphoria of your come down that you barely noticed Sebastian had stopped moving until you felt his hand on your cheek. 

You cracked an eye open at him, the blissfully fucked out look on your face overshadowed entirely by the unique coloring to your eyes. They were glowing red, too. 

“Holy fuck,” Sebastian whispered, his voice gravelly. His eyes were unblinking as they roamed your naked body, taking in the sight of Isidora’s power slipping out around you both, charging the air and tickling his skin in the areas you were still connected. 

You realized it then too, raising your hand to your face in time to watch the bolts of magic recede back beneath your skin. The residual glow behind your eyes faded, leaving a calm silence in its wake. Your head felt clear, the constant buzzing you’d grown accustomed to nowhere to be found. When Sebastian took your hand in his you found yourself searching his expression for any signs of fear or repulsion at your unintentional revelation. 

Instead you simply saw pure adoration. 

“That was incredible,” he practically purred as he pulled out, and you instantly missed the feeling of being filled by him. “I’ve never seen anything like that before.” 

Despite your better judgment, you couldn’t help but feel self-conscious that he had seen anything at all. You pushed yourself up, drawing your knees to your chest to wrap your arms around yourself protectively. 

“It’s not incredible,” you murmured. “It’s unfortunate. It’s a terrible reminder that I should have left well enough alone. I’m a freak.” 

“Hey,” his hands were so gentle, so at odds with the rough nature they had exhibited not even five minutes earlier. “Don’t say that, please. You’re not a freak. You did exactly what you thought was right– if you hadn’t we would all probably be dead right now. But if it’s any consolation, I meant the sex was incredible. Not that you glowing wasn’t incredible too– I mean, you’ve always been beautiful. The magic just gave you a little extra flare.” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle softly at his reassurances. Of course Sebastian of all people would find something positive to say about the unknown, ancient magic that thrummed in your veins. 

He let his hands drift from your shoulders to cup your cheeks, pulling your half hidden face out of your knees to kiss you deeply. The action said everything words couldn’t, and you found yourself leaning further into his touch, chasing the warmth that you so desperately craved. 

After a few languid moments Sebastian asked, “How do you feel?” 

You knew what he meant. “Better. A lot better, actually. Usually it feels like there’s something… sentient at the back of my mind. It’s always there, but not now. It’s quiet.” 

That trademark grin of his appeared in a flash, and you knew then that you had fortuitously inflated his ego. “So you’d say my hypothesis was valid? Does that mean this can be considered a treatment method in the future?” 

A bark of laughter escaped you as you reached up to swat his shoulder. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Sallow. Some things have to be earned.”

Sebastian leaned forward to kiss you again, the feeling of his lips on yours chasing away any lingering doubts or concerns. Maybe your magic would worsen. Maybe it really would change you entirely if you gave it enough time. But until that day came, so long as you had Sebastian with you, the thought didn’t seem quite as scary. Perhaps with him by your side, you could find an alternative and right the wrongs of the past. 

Only time would be able to tell. 

[goodday-goodmorn]

Back on this account: Prefacing this that this work was wrote in like a day and like most of my things- i was too lazy to edit lol. The concept form todays work was injected into my brain by good old @auspicioustidings, check em out- they got some cool concepts and fics. (Particularly Firewatch- chefs kiss to that series), lots of soft, dark, kidnap-y, COD content 👍

Without further ado i present my impulsive thoughts on a page:

——————

“Committed to the Bit.”

words: 4.7k

Summary: You’re at an utterly boring halloween party, about to leave when some scottish man dressed as a solider comes slinking into the bathroom and really goes ham with his whole ‘This place is dangerous, you aren’t supposed to be here- we gotta get you to safety’ act. Weird pick-up line approach but hey it fucking works. He’s just charming enough for you to play along with his bit. Because it is just a bit… right?

This party was kinda dull. Which really was a shame considering how high your expectations were. From what your friend said- it was supposed to be an immersive experience. The hosts were apparently old collage buddies with your friend who were halloween fanatics.

You friend has absolutely hyped them up, talking all about how when they threw parties they got into them and would always play up whatever dynamic they were going for with their costumes. Even to a level of mild public humiliation.

She once recounted the story of how one year, when dressed as a pair of vampires, they full on acted as though they were melting when someone brought a side of garlic breadsticks with the pizza. Fully committed to the bit it seems.

Because of the hosts being so dedicated to their act, of course it wasn’t uncommon for guests to act in a similar manner. Even those who didn’t have a running gag for the night were overall relaxed and had a good time being apart of the fun. It was a non-judgmental zone, filled with pretty decor and open people.

So of course, after hearing all about the welcoming and fucking amazing vibes of these parties- you had agreed to meet up with your friend at one.

Normally, you weren’t really one for parties, especially halloween ones because it was typically full of judgey, horny, strangers who would consider you weird- and you’d have to small talk and the songs almost always sucked because of course they couldn’t play actual halloween songs even if it killed them.

But after many reassurances from your friend, including videos and photos she had graciously provided you- you went to one.

To say you were disappointed was an understatement.

The costumes were amazing- high quality and expensive, hell the place was fucking stunning, all decked out in halloween gear and dark lighting. Even the building itself seemed perfect for this sort of thing- winding corridors, random locked rooms, ominous men in suits. Oh and don’t get you started on the snack table, shit was heavenly even if you were the only one touching it. The aesthetics of the party were great, But…

The vibes were way off. There was no rambunctious fun laughter and people grooving on the dance floor. Everyone seemed oddly reserved. Committed to their bits for sure, but well… there wasn’t much ah, variety to everyone’s act.

They all shared a similar vibe of like- domineering power. Which was definitely pretty fucking hot when it came to some people, (looking at you fancy vanpire lady), but it got boring after a while.

Safe to say your attempts at socializing were pretty shot. And what’s even worse, your friend? Yeah she didn’t even show up.

Tragic truly. You would call her to see if she made it here yet, but your phone was dead- and talking to any of the other party goers was a song and dance you didn’t wanna attempt again.

So here you are, in the bathroom, sitting by one of the sinks and charging your phone.

How lame.

You sigh, standing up to check yourself out in the mirror. At least your costume is fun, it’s a reference that only really you and you friend would get, but still, it made you happy to wear. It was a royal outfit, you looked like nobility, nice and fancy. Perhaps a barron, or maybe a princess, or a king- really it was up for anyone's interpretation. You fix up the head accessory, then fuss with your hair just to have something to do.

Maybe you should just leave, you were getting pretty bored of everything.

And it’s at that moment, as you’re sinking down to the bathroom floor to grab your charger that the most interesting thing of tonight bursts through the door.

You look at him, blinking once then twice. He does the same.

Eye candy.

That’s the first thought that comes to mind. Without an ounce of shame you let your eyes rack over his form, fitted in some sort of military outfit, tactical gear and even a prop gun. He makes it look damn good.

And then you stop admiring the hunk of prime meat in front of you because starring is rude. (Even if he is fucking amazingly charmingly rugged and god damn what you wouldn’t give to run your fingers through that mohawk of his and just tug-)

“That’s a good fucking costume.”

He pauses, looking at you with something confused and a bit bemused. And like an idiot you just can’t keep your mouth shut and blurt out more shit.

“Did ya have to bust through the door though? I mean like- don’t get me wrong it was cool as shit- really adds to the character here, big, hot, ah… military? guy.”

You wince, you’re making a fool of yourself. Luckily the man doesn't seem to mind.

(Johnny takes one look at you, your bag in a sink, your phone charging in the bathroom outlet, your clearly partly homemade costume that shows way more care than any of the other people in this joint and easily figures out-)

“L.T, Found a civvie.”

He mumbles into a- oh shit he’s got an earpiece and everything. Now that is cool. You tell him as such.

“Okay that is so fucking cool. Dude does that thing actually work? Man. How long did it even take for you to get this whole costume?”

He studies you with an odd look for a moment. You wonder if there’s actually anyone talking to him in that earpiece. Must be with the way he pauses. Slowly, he speaks; gentle.

“Not a costume lass. We ought to get you outta here, it's gonna be a shitshow soon.”

You blink. And then, you smile.

“Rightttt, not a costume. I getcha.”

“Not joking bonnie. This place is dangerous, filled with snakes. How did a wee thing like you even get in here?”

You smile, a bit pleased to banter with the first person who isn't doing the same old same old, ‘i know more than you, ooo im so big and powerful and scary’ act.

“Took a carriage ride and promised my roommate I'd be back by midnight.”

He eyes your royal esc outfit, not cinderella by any means but it still makes him smile slightly. (And boy if that isn't a sight, him looking you up and down and looking at you like that?)

“Cute. Then allow me to be yer escort princess.” He jerks his head in the direction of the bathroom door.

The statement is said with just enough sarcasm to make you bite down a grin. Hes very committed to this whole military operation act. And honestly? You were ready to leave anyway. Not to mention this guy was the only one who’d gotten your interest all night.

You grab your things and stuff them in your bag, slinging it over your shoulder tightly.

“Follow me, and ye gotta be quiet. Cant let anyone see us.”

You are more than willing to go along with his silly bit. And so you give him a clumsy salute, with a good natured smile.

“You got it captain.”

“Sergeant.”

He corrects you with an amused little puff of air. Clearly- hes just as pleased to have someone indulge him as you are to have someone interesting to talk to.

“You got it sergeant.” You repeat back with a graceful little half bow and amused smirk.

He turns back to the door, hands on his gun and before you go out you grab onto his arm.

“Wait!”

He turns to you with a raised eyebrow, eyes sharp, focused: wow hes a really good actor and hes got really pretty fucking eyes-

“Lassie?”

Oh yeah you can't get lost in his eyes just yet.

“Can I have a gun? For safety and all that- totally.”

“Hen… i don't think-”

“please sergeant? I promise I won't break it or anything! I just wanna get more into character ya know? pretty please Sir…?

…

(Johnny is not a good man. And fuck when he hears you call him by his rank, sir, asking so sweetly- your hands clasped in front of you- looking at him with a sheepish grin and pleading eyes. He wants to give you a damn bazooka if it means you keep talking sweet to him. Ghost is in his ear, telling him he better not bloody dare.)

(So of course…)

“You keep that safety on boonie. Hold it like this. If you gotta use it, don't be shooting or you’ll blow yer eye out. You toss the bloody thing in the direction of whatever it is you’re tryna hit- or you hand it to me. Is that clear?”

You nod vehemently, assuring him with little, yep’s and sure’s, and got it-’s. He raises a brow, mostly cause hes not sure if you’re actually taking this seriously. You take it for something else entirely though and then quickly say-

“Yes sir. Understood.”

(...Johnny is both damn disappointed hes on a mission, and greatful as fuck, because the only thing he wants to do is push you up against that wall, sneak his hands down your silly little costume and tease you until you’re a squirming mess. Asking you if you understand how hard hes gonna fuck you and hear your breath hitch as you answer back with a wanton “Yes sir”—)

“Sergeant…?”

You stare at the fellow and his intense gaze, wondering if you took it too far. Hes committed to his bit sure, but you didn't mean to overstep and make him feel like he had to give you a gun. Clearly they were expensive props, detailed and metallic and heavy.

Instead of speaking to you, he speaks to his earpiece, “just a precaution L.T, what if her majesty gets cornered? Little lass don't have a lick of combat training.”

You -far to ready to add to this stupid little bit- chime in,

“Yeah, they only teach you fencing and the waltz where i'm from.”

Johnny grins, “Com'on L.T”

(As much as Ghost hates to admit it- Johnny is right. And so be begrudgingly relents. It seems everyone is amused by how utterly oblivious you are because Gaz spares a laugh and a cheeky comment after Ghost's gruff voice.)

“Soooo… what's the verdict Sergeant? Did your uh… LT? That's lieutenant right-? Does he approve?”

In response, Soap carefully positions a gun in your hand, telling you with an edge to keep your fingers away from the trigger. (Safety is on of course, Johnnys not an idiot all the time.) You nod, holding onto the gun and feeling so cool.

Like that the two of you are off, sneaking around the winding corridors and hiding.

Honestly? This is the most fun you’ve had since you got here. Its all you can do to not bounce on your heels when you follow Soap around.

He's just so into this, that you can't help but be sucked in. Speaking in low tones to his ear peice, making sure you stick close, talking about positions and other military jargon that goes over your head. Oh and he does it all with this charming smile, like the situation is serious yes- but like he's still making sure you’re having fun. Trying to keep you comfortable. The energy is tense but in a good way. Electric even.

You find yourself holding your breath whenever you hide behind a corner, or when he tugs you to him and holds you still- god it's just so thrilling. Maybe because you’ve had a boring night, and cause he's charming and fun in all the right ways- but you’re having a blast.

Even when things seem to get even more tense.

You and Soap are currently nestled away in a little nook, a back corridor, a dead end. Soap curses, speaking into his earpiece. You can hear footsteps, someones coming. And if they see you and Soap- you'll surely be compromised.

(Which means your little game will likely come to an end. Most of the party people here are judgmental, ergo they probably won't appreciate your little roleplay. Its in this moment that you decide- fuck it, you dont want this to end.)

“Sergeant!” You whisper harshly, tugging off your fancy coat and draping it around him, “I’ve got a plan- trust me.”

He looks at you, mildly conflicted, he's about to say something but the footsteps are getting closer and you really need a cover story for why you’re lurking in a dark corner away from the party. You can only think of one reason two people would sneak away at a party.

Sue you for getting too into this silly game of pretend, but adrenaline spikes and next thing you know; you’re kissing him.

Rough and messy, needy. You let out your best wanton muffled moan. His eyes are wide, and for a moment you spiral, realizing what you’ve just done. Sure you were playing pretend and he was committed to the bit but you just kissed him for fucks sake- sexually harsssed him!

Oh god hes gonna hate you and you just ruined all that fun banter and any shot at ever speaking to the only decent person you’ve met all night—

He’s kissing back.

With sudden haste he pulls you close, kissing you back with a ferocity that short circuits your brain for a moment. His knee slots in between your legs, entangling you two, and then there's a soft thud as his back hits the wall.

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

Your heart races, a slurry of adrenaline, of elation because he was playing along with your silly cover story, of something hot and molten because he was running his hands along your outfit desperately.

Amidst the heat of it all, the grinding of his knee between your legs- you don't even notice the fact that the footsteps stopped. Johnny does though. He breaks the kiss with a purposeful loud noise, when he sees your dazed and confused expression however- he quickly aims for your neck before you can say a word and accidently give away the clever cover story you thought of.

You gasp, the noise does wonders. He can hear whoevers about to round the corner shifting about, obviously realizing what's going on and debating if they should check to be sure or spare their eyes of the sight.

So of course, Johnny helps them decide by laying it on thick.

“Fuck atta girl hen, wanna hear you fall apart f’ me.”

He presses you against his knee, nibbling at your skin to make your breath stutter. Thankfully, you catch his words and seem to get at least to some level what he's doing.

So of course, because god damn it- you’re in the thick of this silly military operation act now- you’ve gotta commit. You moan out the worst thing you can think of to make someone go away. Which is of course—

“Daddy!”

(Johnny can hear Gaz fucking roaring with laughter over coms. It takes everything in himself not to laugh then and there. Luckily, having a pretty little thing pressed against his knee and trembling provides a good distraction. Still, he can't repress the grin.)

“Yeah? Need something kitten?” He captures your lips again, a quick kiss this time, just to leave you breathless for your next remark.

“Y-Your c-” Oh my fucking god you dont know if you’re struggling to speak because you’re trying your damndest not to laugh, or because you are painfully terribly aroused at due to his kisses and husky voice. Thank god he intervenes.

“Whats that kitty? Yer gonna have to speak up. Lemme hear that sweet voice of yours.”

He guides you across his knee, you tangle your hand in his hair, tugging that stupid mohawk close to kiss him again.

When you quickly pull away, you rush out the words, failing to hide the look of pure hysterical amusement on your face- luckily the rush of words is mistaken for neediness and not because you are seconds away from bursting into laughter.

“Your cock-”

He captured your laughter in another kiss, groaning to hide the sound of your stifled snickers.

Finally, after what seems like ages and yet too little time- he hears Ghost in his ear giving him the all clear. Not without clear amusement.

Johny backs off, panting heavily and listening. He hears nothing but empty air. Quietly he whispers,

“They’re gone.”

You pant as well, trying your best to keep your hysterical little giggles quiet. Johnny is right there with you, like fucking schoolgirls- the two of you giggle for a moment.

Ah but you should probably apologize.

“H-Hey im sorry by the way- for kissing you out of the blue like that, i didn't know if you’d be comfortable with it but uh- i kinda got invested in the whole-”

You wave a hand about as he backs off you, pulling his knee away from your heat between your legs.

“-‘Don't get caught’, thing. Sorry if i um- took it too far and make you uncomfortable…”

(Johnny looks down at you, pretty little oblivious thing, looking all sheepish and nervous as if there wasn’t the high potential you just saved both his and your asses with your quick thinking.)

“All good lassie. Good quick thinking.”

(As much as he’d love to tease you more about it- or even tell you just how much he enjoyed kissing you until you were breathless- he’s still on a mission, and you need to keep moving.)

(So for now, he settles for a hair ruffle and a wink. You smile all the same.)

The pair of you continue, and you are starting to wonder where you’re going. This ain’t the way you came in- though, you suppose coming in via the main entrance would defeat the point of the game. Which was of course: to sneak you out undetected. Walking through the hall of party-goers probably wouldn’t be the best call.

Still, it's odd when you find yourself stopping at a room. It appears to be locked, a passcode and everything. This doesn’t seem to be an issue though.

(“Intel says they left the hard drive here. Code is 269344041.” Johnny listens to Ghosts voice, inputting the code easily. He ignores the confused look you end him in favor of mumbling-)

“a’m in.”

You blink as he talks to his earpiece. Carefully and quietly as you enter the room, you ask,

“Um… sergeant? What are we doing in here?”

“Looking for a package hen.”

(“Should be in a small red box.” Ghost relays.)

“-Little red box. Help me look?”

You nod like the helpful little thing you are and begin to search the room. It’s a storage unit of sorts. Bunch of random shit, you even spot a cool ass box of skeleton bones. That you show to your newfound companion.

He grimaces and gently sets the box down away from your hands.

“Let’s not touch anything else alright lassie?”

It’s framed as a question but really it’s an order. You just shrug, and then remember your line was supposed to be, ‘yes sir.’

“Yes sir.”

The search doesn’t take long after that, a few minutes max before you spot a little red box high up on a shelf. All the things around it are collecting dust, but the dull red colored cardboard seems to be free of it. Placed there recently it seems.

Maybe this whole immersive thing was planned out, and maybe it was pure luck you got roped into it. Everything was awfully elaborate after all. With him knowing the code and stuff.

“Sergeant i think i found it.”

He’s on you in and instant,

“Where?”

You point up the shelf. “That it?”

He carefully grabs it, opens it up and shuts it before you can get a good look. Looked kinda like a flash drive? A flash drive inside a plastic baggie.

“That’s what we’re looking for alright. Good work lassie. Ye might as well be a recruit at this point.”

He’s joking it seems, so you smile back in turn.

“Lived a bit too cushiony of a life for military work i’m afraid.” You gesture once more to your royal outfit. “But i’ll consider the offer sergeant.”

He takes you by the arm, tucking the box into his vest and leading you to the door.

“Glad to hear it princess.”

After that, it’s more sneaking about, more little bits of banter whenever you can, and listening to him speak into his earpiece. It’s dreadfully fun, the most fun you’ve had all night and honestly? At any party ever.

Finally- Finally, you seem to make your goal as you feel open air on your skin. That took forever to get out, with how massive the place was, but by god it was fun sneaking around like a super spy with…

Oh. You come to the sudden realization that you don’t actually know his name. That and- you never gave him your name either.

Well, this is where you leave so…

“Hey i just realized i never got your name.”

He turns to you for a brief moment, his hands on your arm now, tugging you along away from the building so that the bouncers at the front won’t see you. The two of you stop a little ways away.

“Soap. Or Johnny if you’d prefer.”

He says it so simply, with such an easy smile.

“And you princess?”

You say your own back, and it sounds so nice on his tongue. So right.

“Um- if you wouldn’t mind-“ You’re fishing in your bag now for your barely charged phone, wanting to get his number because he seems like a stand up dude and-

Soap touches his earpiece, “Package and civilians secure L.T. Good to go.” He says it quiet enough you don’t hear it, too busy looking for your phone.

(“Roger. Gaz move in.”)

“-could i maybe get your number? After i find my phone, of course. it’s just uh, well i had a lot of fun. Truth be told the night was pretty shit before you found me so if it’s okay with y-“

Your eyes widen when you see behind Soap, several Military troops storming the place, all of them holding what look to be- very real guns.

“What the fu-?”

You start, dropping your phone in a shock and completely shattering the poor device against the pavement.

Johnny can’t seem to bite down his grin.

Slowly, and yet all too fast, everything clicks as soon as you hear gunshots.

At a snails pace your head turns towards Johnny. Soap. The sergeant. The real sergeant.

“I did tell ya it wasn’t a costume hen.”

You were such a fucking idiot.

——————

Awkwardly you sit in your chair, taken in for interrogation. Less that and more for protocol considering everyone agreed you didn’t know jack shit.

Apparently, you went to the wrong party and somehow ended up at a terrorist gathering, which would explain the weird vibes of all the guests. And the super big and confusing building. And the many locked doors. And the—

The more you thought about it, the more stupid you felt so at some point in the hours of being on this stupid military base, you stopped.

To your utter horror and humiliation: Soap was a real sergeant. On a real mission. And he gave you a real ass fucking gun. And you had kissed him and oh god he had his knee between your fucking legs- you called him daddy.

Physically unable to handle the shame and embarrassment, you make a noise similar to that of a dying cat and bury your face in your hands.

The person ‘interrogating’ you, (a nice man that everyone called Gaz), just laughed. At the very least your misery was amusing.

“I am- so, so so fucking sorry, oh my god i’m such an idiot.”

“Don’t worry about it love. It helped to keep you calm. Better than dealing with panicking eh?”

You nodded because he made sense. It didn’t mean you were happy about it- but it did make sense. Soap tried to tell you after all. Honestly it was probably for the best you thought it was all a joke. Who knows what you would have done if you knew it was for real, probably panicked and gotten both yourself and him killed.

Gaz pats your head, an amused but sympathetic smile on his face.

(God fucking damn it, were all sergeants just naturally this fucking charming??? …You don’t have a thing for military guys do you?)

When the captain of this whole thing walks in, John Price; with a smile like that of a damn koala bear and air of authority- you decide that, yeah. Maybe you do have a thing for military types.

Go figure.

“You're free to go love.”

You sigh with relief, mostly because you don’t physically think you can handle anymore embarrassment. Your face is starting to hurt from all the cringing you’ve been doing. How are you ever gonna live this down?

“Afraid your phones broken though. Do you know the way home?”

No. Obviously not. You were taken here via military truck with the other soldiers. Frankly you could be in a different country right now and you wouldn’t know because you passed out at some point from the sheer embarrassment of it all.

(Price of course, knows this. He just wants to see you squirm a little longer. Is it wrong? Yeah. But he’ll be damned if you aren’t the most fun thing to mess with.)

“Um no- sir.” You tack on the title quickly, unsure exactly what to call him.

“Alright. I’ll have one of my men escort you home.”

As long as it’s anyone but Johnny you should be able to survive a car ri-

“Soap.”

Fuck.

“Take my car and escort the little lady back home.”

…You just had to think it, didn't you?

(Price knows he’s cruel for messing with you. Mean and terrible really. But the face you make when he calls Soap into the room? Where you look like you go through every stage of grief before landing on depression in .5 seconds?)

(Priceless.)

——————

The car ride is just as excruciating as you thought it would be. Even worse- Soaps a good guy. Charming and fun, sweet even. He jokes and teases you but tries his damnest to make the car ride as comfortable as possible.

Hell he even offers to stop someplace and buy you something for the road. And offer you not let would refuse; but you were at the base for hours, and it’s like 2 AM and you are exhausted and hungry and embarrassed.

So the two of you get some takeout, and eat in Prices car. You would be worried about eating in the car, but Soap makes you comfortable, assuring you the captain would probably be more upset if he let you go home on an empty stomach.

The rest of the drive is cozy after that. He pulls laughter out of you, and embarrassed groans but it’s all in good fun.

By the time you get home, you’re most definitely a little unsteady on your feet just due to how tired you are. He helps you out of the car, and even walks you to your door.

Before he leaves, you awkwardly debate giving him your number. Just so you could buy him drinks or something later down the line to make up for your utter stupidity today- but then you remember your totaled phone.

Damn.

And then, a god seemingly hears your prays because he’s slipping you a sheet of paper.

Drowsily you blink down at it to find a king number string. A phone number.

When you snap your eyes back up to him, he’s grinning.

“You wanted it right lass? Give me a call sometime.”

And then, he’s winking and walking away. Just like that.

…huh. Maybe you should go to parties more often.

[pavlovianfuckery]

catch me if you can or whatever

A/N: Re-uploading all my fics after having a slight mental breakdown and deleting everything so this is kind of old, but bone apple tea and all that anyway

AO3

The Master-masterlist

Fandom Masterlist

Summary: Basically what it says on the tin. Make silly bets, get silly prizes, like creature-dick and the worst cardio session ever

Pairing: Dream/F!Reader

Notes: oral, piv sex, primal kink if you squint, no use of y/n

Length: 2800~ words

This is a nightmare. Your lungs are burning and your legs ache, but still, you run. If you had known that one childish impulse would get out of hand like this, you might have thought twice before teasing him the way you had.

It had started as something silly, trying to pry him away from his work for a few minutes, nothing more. A quip about him needing to lighten up hadn't been quite enough, so in the spur of the moment, you had simply snatched the book he'd been reading right out of his hands, absconding deeper into the library with a barely suppressed laugh. You hadn't expected him to chase you, though. Granted, it wasn't in any great hurry but pursue you he did, finally cornering you between the towering bookshelves.

"That was juvenile, even for you. Do I truly bore you so?" The way he'd chided you lacked any real heat though.

"Is it so terrible to want your attention for a few minutes? You have all the time in the world to work." Fiddling with the folds in his coat, you gently nipped at his bottom lip. "Surely you can do the rest later?" It was not much use though.

"As much as I'd like to indulge you, I cannot, not tonight. Although..." he'd paused, thinking for a moment, "if a chase is what you're after, why not make it something a bit more exciting than these childish antics in my library?"

"I'm listening."

"How about a small wager? If you can evade me until sun-up tomorrow, by any means you can imagine, you may ask me for anything you would like." That piqued your interest. He'd humour you from time to time, that wasn't uncommon in itself, but he was usually so serious.

"That doesn't sound so hard. What's the catch? With you, there is always one of those." Which was true, for all that he might have accommodated you in the past, he would usually find some way to be a bit of an ass about it. If you didn't know better, you might have mistaken him for a fae. Your scepticism seemed to amuse him.

"Should you fail, I will do with you as I will, whatever that might entail." That hadn't sounded bad at all, butterflies filling your stomach at the way he'd smiled at you, just a hint too sharp."It may not be as pleasant as what you might be imagining, I'm afraid. After all, what would be the point of this little game if you were simply planning to let me win?"

"I'll make you work for it, don't worry." The words had come out a lot more confident than you felt, but you weren't going to let him know that.

"Good. I will even give you a headstart." You'd started protesting about not needing him to do you any favours, but he'd simply covered your mouth with his, cutting you off. Judging by the way he had kissed you until your knees felt like jelly, he perhaps hadn't minded being pulled away from his work for a while, after all. When he finally let you up for air, you'd noticed that he'd stolen his book back.

"Hey!"

"I'll be waiting. Now, wake up."

                                                                                                                             ⁂

In hindsight you're kicking yourself for agreeing, it had been so stupid. At first, you simply tried to hide, mostly to see what he would do. By any means you can think of, he had said, and being in the Dreaming made it easy to let your imagination run free. It seemed like as good a start as any, disguising yourself as a butterfly and joining one of the great swarms in the palace gardens, doing your best to blend in. Evidently, it was not as smart as you had thought, because he found you in barely any time at all.

"That's very clever, my love. You will have to do better than that, though." He paused, considering. "I did promise you a head start, did I not? Five minutes should be plenty, I believe."

Did he think you were that slow? Your dismay must have been apparent even in this form, a hint of a smile forming on his lips.

"Which is it going to be, my sweet? Are you going to waste time sulking, or are you going to run?"

You run. Or fly, rather. You're not quite sure what exactly you turned into this time other than "bird", but you're small and fast, and that's all that matters. In no time at all, Dream is nothing but a dark smudge against the grass, rapidly shrinking. The speed is exhilarating and for a moment you forget the bet, the silly little game, all of it. Not for long though. Silhouetted against the sky like this you make an easy target, so you dash for the only cover you can find.

In the Waking, it would be cold and wet and miserable, but not here. Here the clouds are warm, covering you like a soft blanket as you make for the nearby forest, the treetops barely visible through the mist like an untidy fence off in the distance. It's not too far, and if you hurry you will have enough hiding places to have a fighting chance, so you pick up the pace. And then something moves above you, dark wings parting the mist in great rolling waves. It's hard to see much, but you can tell that it's big, whatever it is.

"Is this the best you can do? I was expecting you to take this a bit more seriously." There is no way that it has been 5 minutes already, but before you can call him out for cheating, great talons are raking through the air. They miss you with barely an inch to spare, ruffling your tail feathers. He is seconds away from catching you and by the sound of it, you might get a bit more than you bargained for if you let him do that. You dive.

Despite the breakneck speed, he's all but nipping at your heels the entire way down, leaving you no choice but to hit the ground running. The grass is slippery with dew, turning your landing into a slide and making you lose your footing. Not for long though, strong hind legs and claws of your own giving you grip and a burst of speed as you launch yourself into the tall grass. A hare might not have been your first pick, but it's not like you had time to think. It makes gaining ground easy though, darting this way and that towards the treeline, narrowly evading the grasping talons.

You make it into the forest, the dense undergrowth giving you enough cover to shake him off. The thick layer of fallen leaves deadens every sound, and it takes you a few seconds to realize that he's not behind you anymore. In fact, you can't see or hear him at all. It's not likely that he would have given up that easily, but your legs feel like jelly so you stop to catch your breath. Finally yourself again, you sit down heavily on a tree stump, lungs still heaving like bellows. Since this is all technically a dream, it feels deeply unfair that you get winded at all. You remind yourself to ask him about that later, but you suspect that running in your dreams does not count as cardio.

Dawn is still hours away, and you have no clue how you're going to make it until then. At this point, it feels like you might as well give up. You're pretty sure he wouldn't do anything too bad, and there is no way you can keep this pace up for much longer. The sound of a dead branch breaking nearby is loud, taking you by surprise.

At first, you're not entirely sure what you're looking at, except that it's not any kind of animal that you know. It's pale, with a starved look about it, all sinew and bone. Between the dark tufts of fur and the gangly, oddly proportioned limbs, it is entirely alien. Even the way it moves is unsettling as its antlered head swivels in your direction, its eyes fixed on you. Black eyes.

As it turns out, you do have the energy to keep running after all.

For a few fleeting seconds, you almost think he might let you go. But then he chases after you, more branches breaking. It's over in less than a minute. If you hadn't tripped it might have been one and a half, maybe even two. But soon, a clawed hand pushes you down onto the ground, leaving you splayed out like so much prey. Wriggling only makes him put more of his weight on you, claws pricking your skin.

"Be still." His voice is almost felt rather than heard, reminding you of gravel being ground underfoot and the bubbling of mud, nothing like his usual smooth velvet. There is a gibbering at the back of your mind, every base instinct telling you to flee, to get away by any means possible before you're eaten."Or would you deny me my prize?"

For a moment you consider it, calling it off. He hasn't held that against you in the past, and he wouldn't now. And despite appearances, you're pretty sure he wouldn't actually eat you. This close you can't help noticing the disconcerting amount of sharp-looking teeth though, so you take a deep breath to try and calm yourself.

"No." Your voice isn't quite as steady as you would have liked it to be but you reach out to touch him all the same. His skin is warm and dusted with fine, almost invisible hair. It's a strange, almost sticky feeling, and when he pulls away to move down your body, you half expect it to coat your fingers like moth scales. When he reaches the apex of your thighs he nuzzles there, drawing your scent deep into his lungs with a low rumbling sound.

The way he picks at your clothes with the tips of his claws is almost dainty, the fabric giving with little ripping sounds as he works your legs free, leaving you bare. When he spreads your lips to expose you to him it's with the gentlest touch, careful not to scratch you. Aside from his eyes, the way he works your clit is the only familiar thing tonight, teasing you until you can hardly stand it. When the tip of his tongue probes your entrance your eyes drift shut, anticipating what's to come.

"No, look at me." Once he's satisfied that you're watching he slides his tongue into you, inch by slick inch, not stopping until his teeth prick your skin. He could swallow your whole cunt whole like this, easily fitting all of it in his mouth with room to spare.

The movement of his tongue is a slow, undulating thing as he fucks you with it, drinking down every drop of your juices as he massages every sweet spot at once. It's a wholly new sensation and it's got you craving more of it, making you grab hold of his antlers to better grind yourself against him, but he just gives a low growl and splays one huge hand across your stomach, keeping you still as he feasts on you. Craning your neck you can only just glimpse his length, massive and ridged, the broad head already leaking and turning the dark fur between his legs sticky.

"Gods, Dream, you're not planning to fuck me with that thing?" He doesn't respond right away, so intent on devouring you, not stopping until you're trembling.

"Remember the agreement, my love. Do not refuse me now." His expression is harder to read like this, but the want in his voice is plain enough. Stroking your sides soothingly, his voice turns almost cajoling as he continues, "Turn over."

Perhaps against your better judgement, you do as he asks, your stomach fluttering with equal parts desire and trepidation. The smell of decaying leaves and trampled undergrowth is thick in your nose as he puts you on your hands and knees, face nearly touching the forest floor. It's hard to stay still as he starts slowly pushing inside, careful not to crush you under his weight as he mounts you. He makes it less than an inch before you tense, certain that he's going to split you in half somehow.

"Wait, I don't know if..."

"You can take me." He presses against you another fraction of an inch, not bothering to let you finish talking. "You will."

At first, it feels like he's demanding the impossible, but gradually you manage to relax. He takes his time working his way inside of you and when he finally bottoms out it's with a guttural sound, his breath ruffling your hair as he pants against the back of your neck. You half expect some form of "I told you so" but it never comes. Instead, you simply breathe together for a few moments as he gives you time to adjust.

When he moves it's so slowly, like he could break you somehow. When you don't, he gets bolder, pulling nearly all the way out and then thrusting back in, making sure you feel every ridge and bump. Every noise you make seems to egg him on until his teeth are at the back of your neck, not quite drawing blood.

He takes his time, holding you steady as he claims you utterly. Even when his teeth nick your skin he doesn't falter, probing at the cut with his tongue until saliva dribbles down your neck. Even the way he tightens his grip on you is entirely other, leaving you unable to do anything but wriggle in the dirt, black spots dancing across your vision.

"Dream, please!" Everything is pressure and a gasp is all you can manage. You can feel him swell inside of you in response to your pleading, and then one huge finger settles over your neglected clit, the claws a reminder of just how easily he could rip you apart like this.

In a way he does, rubbing at you until your release is so close that you can nearly taste it. Teetering right on the precipice, you're not sure if there is even room for you to come, he's got you stretched so wide. He's insistent though, trapping you between his hand and his cock, not letting you squirm away no matter how much you try.

In the end, he reaches his peak first, jaws locked like a steel trap around your neck as he spills deep inside of you. It feels as if it might never end as he pulses over and over until his release is running down your legs. Even then he manages to keep up the slow, full strokes, refusing to stop until you hurtle over the edge.

When you finally do, it knocks the breath out of you, leaving you no air to even scream. The girth of him makes your cunt struggle to clench and as he fucks you through it, he very nearly gets pushed out. He doesn't let up until you almost collapse under his weight, utterly spent. Even as he lays you down on your side he doesn't withdraw, just pulls you close and curls in around you with a sound that while strange, sounds content enough. It's oddly cosy like this, his deep rumbling breaths against your back, and for a few moments neither of you says anything. As the lightheadedness starts lifting and your heart stops pounding like you've run a marathon, you can't quite hold back a sigh.

"Something troubling you, my love?" Even distorted, the amusement in his voice is apparent.

"Were you ever going to give me a fair chance to win?" With the soreness setting in, it's difficult to keep some irritation out of your voice.

"Perhaps." This time he doesn't bother to disguise it, and you're grateful that you have your back turned so you don't have to see the smug expression on his face. "As I recall, you agreed to the terms."

"You cheated!" You emphasize the words with an elbow to where his stomach should be, though not very hard. It barely connects, and you're too worn out to stay annoyed. There is a crick in your neck and you wince, hoping it won't follow you into the waking world. "Next time, remind me not to interrupt while you're working."

At first, he doesn't respond and you think he might be having a coughing fit. For a second you wonder if an Endless can even get sick, or if something else is wrong. Then he nuzzles your neck and you realize that the dreadful noise is him laughing at you. Not very loudly, but still. By the time you wake up, you still haven't decided whether you should be annoyed at the cheek of him, or just be happy that you heard him laugh for the first time.

⁂

The Master-masterlist

Fandom Masterlist

If you liked this spicy snack even a little, please consider supporting your local smut-slinger and hitting the reblog button on the way out, perhaps even drop a comment if you're feeling generous, it really helps with the motivation side of things a lot!

[randomdragonfires]

it's me, hi!

Hello everyone! it's me - randomdragonfires/sam and this is my new blog!

This is a note for anyone who remembers me - hello, I'm back here, I suppose! First off, I'm going to say this: I'm genuinely sorry to those whom I worried while I took off without saying a word. I was gone a whole month and I left no way to be contacted. I can understand how that could worry those of you who cared, and I should have acted better.

I left for a bit simply because I needed to catch a breath. Writing started to seem a bit like a chore, and there was too much about the fandom that made me sad, frustrated, angry and petty each time I opened my feed. I was not writing and I was not a happy participant - there was very little reason for me to stay and make myself miserable, when I could have been clearing my head, giving myself space and falling in love with writing for fandom all over again.

Which is what I've been doing in the past month.

Deleting my tumblr and discord was not a decision I made impulsively. I had been considering it for weeks, and I am glad I did. Now, after a clean long break, I've come back with a much more healthier relationship with this blog and the fandom, and I'm genuinely in a better space. I look forward to writing and posting here again too.

I've missed it so much more than you know.

that's great, Sam! so, how have you been?

It's good. It's bumpy and weird, but things are good. I hope they've been good for you guys too. <3

If this is your next question, then here it is!

I've been very busy. I work a 9-6 job as a creative writer 6 days a week and I also study for my executive masters program (in journalism and PR, if you're wondering) when I'm not working. I'm involved in a few freelance projects and when I'm not doing any of this, I prefer to read or sleep or go on fast hour-long walks; simply because it all keeps me away from my electronics. I'm constantly drained creatively, and it sucks - but I'm also engaged 24x7, learning something new and doing productive things.

will you be writing again?

If this is something that you're wondering about, then yes. I do plan on writing. I am starting a series that I am trying to pour my entire soul into - but it is going slowly. Like I mentioned, I have a tight schedule and it keeps me busy every second of the day, so I write when I can.

I plan on announcing my new series with a story masterpost anytime now. If you're interested, perhaps you should keep an eye on this space!

I will also be reuploading a selected collection of some of my work from my old blog - so if you'd like to give those a revisit, then feel free to!

that's it from me!

I'm happy to be back in the thick of things, and I hope that, to some extent, you're glad to see me back too. I'm here to be a positive, non-problematic presence that writes good fic, supports other artists, and is happy about it. Negativity in excess had me step away once, and I hope I'll never have to do that again.

Let's all be kinder, or at least try. :)

[maximwtf]

request for izzy hands x male or gn reader (romantic). reader is friends with calico jack (i luv will arnett so lets pretend calico is alive lmao). back on hornigold's ship, izzy, blackbeard, calico and reader were extremely close/ tight with one another. so yk how they hinted at calico and ed having relations w one another at some point? maybe that also happened with reader and izzy. like there has always been romantic tension between reader and izzy and they both acted upon it at some points but never really made anything official.

anyways, they each go their separate ways eventually. izzy going with ed and calico and reader being impulsive and crazy sons of bitches who just end up seeing wherever the sea takes them without any plans. years later, calico jack and reader reunite with ed and izzy (and now stede is there of course, as well as the rest of the crew). izzy and ed assumed reader to be dead for a very long time up until this point. idk just re-blossoming romance with izzy x a reader who is his complete opposite and is fucking crazy. first kiss possibly and idk i've never seen any fics where reader is friends with calico so! sorry if this is redundant or hard to read. english is not my first language. bonus points if reader can convince calico jack to take a bath (that man smells like shit 100%)

Izzy Hands x Reader

Words: 4k

Google Docs Pages: 6

Warnings: smoking, drinking, idiots in love fr, if you squint there’s some angst, mostly just fluffy banter idk I don’t usually write stuff like this :”D 

Opening: You go way back with Blackbeard, Calico Jack and Izzy Hands, all the way to the time you were a part of Hornigold’s crew. But eventually all nice things have to come to and end, and you all go your separate ways. You stick with Calico Jack and lose contact with Blackbeard, and Izzy whom you’d grown fond of. 

After a long time, you come across the two at Spanish Jackie'z, and realise that same old fondness never really disappeared. 

AN// Gn Reader! I meant to write this as a he/him, but I forgot xd. I’m so sorry this took me so long to make, omg :”D I got into so many other things after ofmd that I couldn’t bring myself to write the rest of the requests, but aye I’m here again and as good as new! (or maybe not, maybe I forgot how to write for these characters.) Anyway, I’ve had time to let this one brew. I’ve loved the idea since it came in, had lots of fun with this !!

Anyway I wanted to write this before I get Baldur's Gate 3, just in case I want to start writing for that and postpone these even more :”D So enjoy the last Izzy request I had left!! <3

“A light that never goes out.”

As famous as the ship of Hornigold’s might have been, life as a part of the crew was not the easiest. Hornigold wasn’t afraid of threatening his crew, nor was he playing around when he did so. You’d seen how he treated the young cabin boys on board, like disposable toys. And maybe he did have more respect for the older crew members, but that did not save you from the overly hard work and stress of the captain acting on his threats. Which you knew he would do with no problem and most likely with a smile on his face. 

So what did you do to get through your days on a ship like this? You drank with the fleet. And that you were doing now, knowing there wasn’t anything to be done for the day. The sun had already set and the sea calmed down to rest for the night.

An oil lamp on the table was providing some light, otherwise the space was rather murky. An empty rum bottle had fallen on its side in the middle of the table, a freshly opened one going across the table, person to person. There wasn’t any to waste, though you played around with the thought of sharing being caring.  

Calico Jack sat on the other side of the table from you, Edward closest to him. You watched the bottle being passed between them, the noise of Izzy moving ever so slightly behind you bringing you back from your thoughts. This allowed you to pick up on the topic of the conversation. Jack and Edward complaining about the captain, Jack clearly a little more buzzed based on his speech. You flashed them a lazy smile, agreeing with what they were saying that way. Not joining the conversation since the two of them seemed to be so deep into it. But it was nothing unusual. Usually as the night went on the two of them would continue to converse, leaving you and Izzy to the sidelines to do your own thing and jump in on the topic when you felt like it. But neither of you minded that, usually finding the silence comfortable or conversing with each other silently. He was pleasant to talk to, even if you knew he wasn’t so fond of Jack and his behaviour that had rubbed off on you over time. Though, you tried to keep it at bay when with him.  

You leaned back on your chair, stretching your arms. The action allowed you to see Izzy as he pulled a packet of cigarettes from his pocket. You gave him a look, not asking for anything but hoping he got the idea. And he did, he always did. Which you were glad of, since asking to come for a smoke with him felt like you’d turned into a begging puppy. Knowing the next time you or anyone else would get their hands on some more was unknown. 

So you excused yourself, leaving for the main deck with him. Not going far, near the railing. You leaned against the gunwale, eyes fixated on the light waves hitting the hull. Izzy followed suit, leaning his elbow on the gunwale before lighting the cigarette he was holding. He took the first drag from it before offering it to you. Of course he did, he never gave you your own. That would have been a waste of the small amount you each had, but that did not stop you from complaining about it. “Leftovers?” You raised your brows a little, still taking the cigarette from him. “Better for yer health,” was what he usually went with, like this time as well. “Fuck off,” you replied with a chuckle and took a slow drag. He didn’t say anything to that, turning his eyes to the water as well. 

You didn’t dare to smoke much of what he had left, handing the cigarette back to him. The silence around the two of you wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable, but you felt the need to break it. Something of the way Jack and Edward had been conversing had sparked the interest of talking within you as well. “You ever thought of leaving? Finding another ship to board?” You asked, curious of his answer to be truthful. Because you had, multiple times in fact. You weren’t even sure of the reason for your extended stay. Was it for the trio you hung around? Or was it the threats you feared? You had not a clue, but perhaps if he had thought of the same thing you could push yourself over the edge of leaving as well. “Hornigold may be half insane, but I’ll follow Ed. Doubt we’ll die here, but he won’t stay here forever.” The man next to you replied, taking a rather long drag from the cigarette before lowering his hand and blowing the smoke into the cool sea air. You hummed, tilting your head in understanding. Though, you couldn’t pass up an opportunity to tease the man. So you turned to look at him, pouting as you raised your eyebrows. “Oh?” Was all you had to say for his expression to drop, noticing the way you’d abandoned the initial topic purely for this. “Fuck off, rapscallion. You know what I meant,” he said but you counted on his tone of voice when deciding if he was truly annoyed with you or not. Of which you chose the latter. “What? You’re even pining for him now when you’re up here.” You laughed, following as he shook his head with a disappointed look as he stumped the cigarette. “I’m not going to start this with you,” Izzy mumbled as he turned his eyes back on you. Now clearly a little more annoyed but you said nothing of it, wanting to see where this would go. 

Izzy turned to leave, retreat from the situation. But you had your hopes up, in the sense that you didn’t want for him to leave yet but also hoped that he’d tell you if there was actually something going on. For the sake of your feelings. Which you weren’t going to admit you had for anyone, unless he spoke first. So you took a light hold of the fabric of his shirt, giving him space to leave if he wanted to. But he didn’t. “Come on, ye getting lily-livered on me? Was I right?” You dared to ask, maybe pushing the situation a little far but you took the risk. Though it didn’t seem like he was going to leave, at the very least. He opened his mouth, closing it soon after. Seemingly frustrated. But you saw something else within that initial emotion, hesitation was some of it. Something that had appeared when his back was turned to you earlier. When he thought you wouldn’t notice. 

“Well?” You hummed, an amused look on your face even with the slight anxiety building up within you. His eyes darted across the empty main deck before landing back on you. A sigh left him, pursed his lips in whatever emotion he was feeling at that point. It only making you wonder if you’d gone too far this time.

With a swift motion he placed a hand on your waist, enough to make you land against the gunwale, kissing you rather roughly. A gasp escaped you, eyes widening for a short moment before responding to the action. Something in his manner changed at your response, pulling away slowly and with more calculated movements. It was only when his hand left your waist that you took a breath, blinking at him as your mind tried to come up with anything to say. He didn’t seem to have a grasp on the current situation either, though he had a response in mind for what you’d been waiting for earlier. “Ye never are,” he said before heading back down to Jack and Edward. Leaving you out on the main deck for quite a while before being able to return as well. Only to not speak of that moment openly for a long time after. 

But that was years ago. And after that night and the many more you experienced, the fun came to an end. You all went your separate way, as much as you didn’t like the idea of splitting up in such a manner. But there was no avoiding it. So you chose to stay with Jack, seeing as you had known him for the longest and got along with him the easiest. And as much as he already had seemed like the obvious choice, it also seemed that he did not mind you tagging along with him one bit. 

And there had begun you and his long lasting journey to nowhere. You were finally free of Hornigold’s threats and work, having time to do as you pleased and go where you wanted. And so Calico Jack and you sailed with ships from place to another, keeping from trouble the best you could. Well, from time to time it seemed as if you were keeping him from trouble but at the end of the day it kept the both of you on the safer road. 

But this specific night, you were in the Republic of Pirates. Spanish Jackie'z had become a place the two of you would go to any time you were staying there, and that tradition was not broken this time either. 

The lights were dim where you were seated, at the corner. Not a table Jack would have chosen, but you preferred it. You liked retreating to it if things started getting too rowdy in your opinion, knowing no one would be looking for you in the shaded corners of the tavern. And that was exactly what you were doing now. Observing the people and the conversations happening around you while Jack was causing a commotion somewhere in the crowd. 

And all of that went along how it always did, nothing out of the ordinary. Well, until pirates you didn’t recognize straight away came in. A well groomed man in a fancy clean suit caught your attention first, causing you to furrow your brows in a mix of confusion and interest. He didn’t seem to belong, catching the attention of the other regulars you’d gotten to know over time. With him was a more dark figure, black clothing which blended him in with the rest of the crowd. Or would have if he wasn’t walking so closely to the fancy fellow. The thought made you giggle. But not for long, as your mind started to race when you saw the third party with them, a shorter man. Because the sight of him jogged your memory, made you shake your head to make sure you’d seen correctly. To not get too excited if you’d just been imagining things. But you hadn’t, it was him. And if that was true, the other man must have been Edward. 

Your eyes stayed on Izzy, blinking as the noise from the crowd blended into the background. As if a static had taken over your thoughts. You thought of going over, surprising him perhaps? But you hadn't the time to act on the thought. All the noise suddenly returning as Jack made his way to Edward, almost clinging to the man’s neck. A slight smile making its way to your face, a nostalgic one. Though, you feared what the good old combination of the two would mean for the new fellow. But for now, Edward seemed to be introducing your mate to the man, so you felt at ease with leaving Jack with them. Surely he’d behave….

Your eyes returned to Izzy, finding the man staring at you just as you had done to him. An awkward smile tried to creep its way to your face, feeling the urge to go up to him and have a drink. But the man seemed as if he wanted nothing to do with the place, as that he would have already left if it hadn’t been for you. So you stare back at him, nod your head towards the door he’d just entered from. A subtle invitation for a smoke which you didn’t have, but he didn’t know that when he nodded back at you, accepting the offer. 

So you got up, made your way outside where he had escaped as soon as possible. You took a breath to prepare for a talk, but he beat you to it. “How you are still alive, I cannot say,” he hums, demeanour much calmer than before. His form leaned against a wall, a lot less tense eyes travelled to you. Giving him a chuckle you tilt your head. “Jack is who he is, but he would never-” But it took the mere look he gave you to not finish that sentence. Not what he had meant. “That man may be half insane, but I figured you’d gotten yourself killed elsewhere by now.” He explains, eyes focused on a rum bottle he was opening, figuring out he wasn’t going to get a smoke from you. “Hah! You’d have to find something deadlier than a lead marble to take me down,” you laugh as you take the bottle he was offering. “Though, I’m not sure I can keep dodging the bullet that is an unbathed Jack…” You mumble with a careful expression before taking a swig, earning a low chuckle from Izzy. The angle allowed you to see his face better, confirming that he seemed to be in a better mood. Not as grumpy looking perhaps. But you said nothing of that, letting him off the hook this once. 

The evening starts to resemble a night soon enough, making you and Izzy start to drift over to the shore. At some point, you notice Edward, Jack and the new guy follow, joining in. You wanted to stay longer, to get to know the new man better and to get to talk to Edward as well, but Izzy seemed oddly annoyed with the company getting bigger. So you share a few drinks with them, learn that the name of the man was Stede Bonnet and go your separate ways. 

Separate ways, as in you and Izzy walked over to the jolly boat and waited for the rest of the group to be done with their chatter. Though, it seemed an awful lot like that wasn’t happening any time soon. But while observing the three of them from afar, you noticed that while Stede didn’t seem to be the biggest fan of Calico Jack and the effect he was having on Edward, there was something different in his eyes when he looked at the two of you. 

The man who was now laughing with Ed might have rubbed off on you in the years you’d known him and as much as Stede disliked the persona, something in his chest warmed up when he saw Izzy follow you around. The way he didn’t disturb your rants, listened if not always so keenly and chose to hang around. Because that was something Stede hadn’t seen Izzy do willingly with anyone but Edward. And something about that made the man take peeks at the two of you sitting together, happy for Izzy in his own way. Izzy might have not liked him, but Stede never wanted to make enemies, so perhaps this was good for the self isolated man. 

But you knew nothing of those intentions. Only that his staring was putting you off, not sure what it was about. You could see there was no malice in his eyes. So you couldn’t blame him for staring, for you had been doing that exact same thing to Izzy just back at the bar. But perhaps for different reasons, to which even you hadn’t really given into. It couldn’t be, because all the years at sea should have washed away any previous feelings. There shouldn’t be anything left but an empty table to start over from. A kind of erosion caused by separation. But that thought was too deep to dig into right now. 

You couldn’t quite hear what the three further away were planning, having seated yourself in the boat. Izzy leaning against the head of the small vessel, bottle in hand. The sounds of seagulls far off in the distance, in town. They didn’t bother to come to the shore so late into the night, knowing there was still food to steal where people were buzzed and forgetful. 

“Suppose we’re tagging along.” You start off in order to break the silence which had crept over the two of you. Izzy swirled the liquid in the bottle, raising his gaze over to the sea. “Ain’t that the fucking dream,” he replied but it seemed he mostly meant your companion, not you. But that didn’t prevent you from acting offended. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t miss me at all,” you laugh, the sound of it clearing any doubts from you being tipsy. “Never said I didn’t, ye made that up.” Izzy is quick to answer, allowing himself to drink the leftovers from the bottle, seeing as you’d already had your share and above. You pout at the sight, drawing in a breath. “Hm, maybe I should have been an author after all in that case.” You raised your brows, amused. “Can ye even read?” He asks, eyes back on you. The question receives a chuckle from you before you shake your head. Your drunken mind wanted to say, ‘no, but I can read the tension between us’, but something in you decided against it. Perhaps another time. 

Another moment of silence surrounds the two of you, and for a moment you think you were able to hear the conversation of the three men further up the shore. In reality you should have been a psychic of sorts to have been able to hear them through the sounds of the light waves hitting the stern of the boat.

You smile to yourself, thinking of something to say. “I see yer boyfriend got taken in the end?” You hum, mostly amused but in truth you did want to know if that was what had happened. The question gets Izzy to turn to you swiftly, but the tone of his reply is not affected by it. “He’s still rubbing off on ye. Suppose it’s better you’re tagging along, we’ll get you back on fuckin’ track.” He shakes his head in a disapproving manner, but you see the hint of amusement after his own reply. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you insist. Perhaps he was right, but what else could you have done? You’d been with that menace of a man for years, it was only a matter of time until you would have become a copy of him. Well so you had feared. “Was welcomin’ ye back,” Izzy explains himself. But you had already caught on, just felt the need to be difficult. “So you did miss me, hah!” You chuckle, a little louder than you intended. Perhaps wanting the confirmation more for yourself than anything. In hopes that the earlier thought of erosion had just been a figment of imagination. But the comment only gains a look from Izzy, getting you to lower your voice. 

You drag yourself to a better sitting position, leaning towards the man a little. The bottle in his hand was clearly already empty, yet he attempted to take a swig from it. Perhaps to put out something within him, maybe to get out of the awkward environment you insisted on creating to amuse yourself. But in that moment you let any logical thought go. Taking a gentle hold of his wrist, enough to let him pull away is he so pleased. Yet tight enough to pull him towards you. A test of sorts, to see if he was up for it. To try and light a spark once more, see if it would catch fire this time around. And it takes him quite a while to decide, reluctant. Yet, with a swift motion he kisses you. Giving in to your almost childish suggestion. But that was what lit the spark once more, the same feeling from the past returning. As quick as he had been to pull away, you could have sworn the nostalgic feeling of it all lingered in the air. 

His eyes were focused on you, a hint of fear in them. You couldn’t understand why, almost coming up with a conclusion as to what you had done wrong. Had you taken too tight of a hold of him? Did he regret what he’d done? Wish to take the action back? It scared you. But you weren’t going to let him see that, instead offering the frightened man a smile. Maybe it eased his mind on the matter, leaving more of a conflicted look on his face. 

You let your mind at ease with the thought of all the years that had passed. What did you know of where he’d been and what trouble had he faced? Perhaps he would tell you one day if you stayed a while longer. But right now, it seemed as if he’d been craving for such attention from someone, yet never received it. And if that was the case, you wanted to be a source of that for him. 

But that train of thought was interrupted early on by a gasp. Not the kind you’d hear when someone was frightened or surprised, but the sweet kind. The kind you hear when someone gets something they didn’t expect. The sound was soon covered up, but you had already spotted the source of it. Stede. You’d seen his eyes leave the two of you, furrowing your brows in a mix of confusion and interest. The man seemed oddly invested in the two of you, but for some reason tried to hide it. You weren’t sure if it was for his or Izzy’s sake, but you were sure Izzy had heard it as well. 

As you keep watching, the others swiftly turn to Stede. Not worried, but alerted by the gasp. “Perhaps we should head back. I had something left to do,” the man speaks and this time loud enough that even you can hear it. You can almost also hear the awkwardness in his tone, hoping neither of the men had noticed him staring. Earned a chuckle from you. You watch as Stede gathers himself from the sand, the others getting up as well with questioning looks. You turn back to Izzy. He had definitely heard the gasp as well, but the annoyance from it hadn’t affected him nearly as much as the kiss. Which you found endearing, glad that it hadn’t ruined it for him even if he seemed to have some kind of silent banter with Stede. 

The three men walk up to the jolly boat. You smirk, seeing Jack wobble a little on his feet as they get to the waterline. You got up to meet him, not aware of your own tipsy state and managed to tumble forward a little. So much for the sea legs as you feel Izzy grab the back of your shirt to steady you again. Though he doesn’t hold on for long as he catches up on your intent, allowing you to wobble against Jack, pushing him just enough that he lands into the water. Only, if it hadn’t been for Izzy you would have gone down with him. 

But with his help you had succeeded, laughing as the man groaned in the shallow water, throwing playful curses at you. “Not before you bathe. You reek.” You say, as if you’d grown some standards after hearing Izzy complain of your companion’s personality sticking to you. You hadn’t but perhaps you wanted to pretend you had, for Izzy. 

You give Stede a slight giggle, watching the man step away from the splashed water. Only then noticing how the splash had wet your clothes as well, giving a grumble about it. Though it was all in good fun. “After he’s clean, we’ll set sail,” you give them a firm nod. 

You watch as Jack collects himself from the water, seemingly trying to pull Edward in as well. You smile at them in amusement, the nostalgic feeling creeping back up. Even with the fancier fellow tagging along, it felt like a puzzle being put back together. And you hoped that it would last a little longer this time, not having to go your separate ways again. Because even one night was able to prove to you that you had missed them. Missed the banter, seeing Calico Jack and Edward together and mostly Izzy. And the spark that had lit up once more hoped that Izzy felt the same way. At least about you. 

[thegnomelord]

I silently make my way to your ask box, after days of reading your content like a lurker I'm. During these days I have made an oc, CoD self insert (With Monster AU variant and today I bombed my unwilling friend with Monster AU Makarov x Self insert brainrot, because I got succumbed to all cute courting hcs etc.) and started impulse One-shot. . Krhm. But in all seriousness. I love your way of writing, In your long fic about the Mage reader, while reading, I was talking to my friend how the picturing of the magic is so good, it's ugly, hard, dirty but damn is it powerful too yet not too op. I mostly returned to the as simple scene as the shower one in chap 2, usage of words and picturing how things tasted an looked like. Being on the edge in chap 1 and even before "the janitor" comes in, something tingles in my writer head "*Something is going to happen, I can feel it.*" That fic was one of the instanses I fell in love on your way of worldbuilding too. I accidentally found your Good dog fic first, as I was trying to find something from the tags for my own unholy projects. I notice the Male reader tag and despite my hope being drained after years, I click on it. And I was so glad I did. (On a note I'm in very bad brainrot train on that man, it took the edge off.) So, out of curiosity, my mind now given water after so long for being dehydreided, I decided to take a peek. And I ended up reading a lot, finding it so refreshing to also have a top reader. And I eventually found the Trans fics. I'm Pre-transition, ftm and the first time ever, a bloody fucking nsfw fic, (besides horny), makes me happy and content *with myself and my future.* And that's most sappy I will go but I told you this that your fics has also truly imbacted in some deeper way. Okay, back to lurking, but I will be going to some recommended blogs too, because I might just go and read all of your fics again. Also about time I remember to follow you. Keep up the good work and good luck on your studies. ✌️

Yessss another one joins to the monsterloving/ monsterfucking cult lol and honestly those impulsive one shorts are some of the best things ppl write lol.

And honestly you're making me grin like a mad man while I'm writing this :Dd Not to toot my own horn but I've had the worldbuilding of the HHABF universe for years lol and I love when magic is this nitty gritty thing that's more harmful than useful if you don't know how to use it lol. It feels great when people like my work but it's even better it impacts ppl in a deeper way than just 'oh yeah fap material' you know?

If you wanna check out some other of my moots there's @lieutnt who was the reason I got into writing myself because his work was so inspiring lol, then there's @rodolfoparras has some monster141 works and his old man Price is scrumptious, @embry-garrick has some trans fics too if I remember correctly and is a talented writer @fortheb0ys did some makarov fics too and they're great lol.

[eigwayne]

“Is this a new car?” she asked, taking in the black, sporty vehicle.

It is a new car, but it's Jiang Cheng she can't keep her hands off of- even though Wen Qing is NOT the sort of person who hooks up at someone else's wedding.

(If the hook up is before you arrive, it doesn't count. She swears.)

Modern AU, previous but not current intimate ChengQing relationship. Hook-up in a car (parked, but the front seat, and I successfully resisted the impulse for someone's butt to hit the horn, you're welcome). The entire fic is below as well, but feel free to use the AO3 link. Your call.

***

They broke up years ago, in college, but found themselves drifting together and apart, over and over. Their friend group had at least a fifty percent overlap, Wen Qing estimated, so it was a fairly natural ebb and flow. She couldn’t help that she liked Jiang Cheng’s voice and sharp jawline and biting humor, his fashion sense and how his hair was always perfectly trimmed. And she’d spent a good amount of effort teaching him how to please women in general and her in particular; it’d be a waste if she didn’t test him occasionally to see how much he remembered.

(He always remembered. It was part of why she kept coming back.)

Today was another drift together, a wedding they were both attending. He picked her up after he got out of work, still in his suit. His only concession to the non-office environment his slightly-loosened tie and a top button undone.

“Thanks for carpooling with me,” Wen Qing said as she joined him outside her apartment building. He greeted her, somewhat stiffly but that was just his way, before he took her overnight bag and tucked it in the truck.

“Is this a new car?” she asked, taking in the black, sporty vehicle.

“It is,” Jiang Cheng said, pride creeping into his voice. She knew jack shit about cars, but from a purely visual standpoint, it had a nice enough shape, clean lines and all that, although it was the sort of sportscar a man would get to compensate for something. Which meant it was perfect for Jiang Cheng, who had a multitude of issues his therapist was surely writing papers about.

(It wasn’t even her being unfair. He’d made the joke himself, after he got more open about admitting he was seeing a professional. She remembered it because she’d been proud of him for talking about his problems instead of holding everything in until he burst and they’d had a memorably messy tryst in celebration. He had a photo of the result somewhere, and it was a measure of her trust that she didn’t demand it be deleted.)

Wen Qing made the appropriate sounds of mild interest in the new car and let him talk as they started driving. He kept it remarkably low key for such an expensive new toy- he must have been rehearsing what he’d say, to keep himself from nattering on at someone he knew wouldn’t care.

“There’s a blanket and extra cushions in the back,” he said after the blessedly short description of engine specs. “The seats aren’t quite as comfortable as the old car and I thought you might want them. Feel free.”

“I hadn’t noticed the seats, but thank you. That was thoughtful.” Wen Qing smiled at him as he glanced over. Jiang Cheng was an attentive driver after years of driving with his sibling’s kids, so it was only an instant, but that was all it took for her to see his lips curved up in response, pleased that he had her approval.

‘I was not going to be one of those women that hook up at a wedding!’ Wen Qing scolded herself, but her heart gave a little flutter of appreciation anyway. He was cute when he smiled, after all, and he always smiled at her and said “Thank you” when they spent intimate time together, too. She was very nearly programmed to soften at the sight. ‘Dammit, Jiang Cheng. Why are you handsome?’

The drive was peaceful for a bit, thankfully. Just meaningless small talk or comfortable silences. At least, Wen Qing thought they were comfortable until she caught Jiang Cheng sneaking glances at her from the corner of his eye.

“What? What is it?” She smoothed her hair in front of her ears, suddenly worried that she didn’t match his exacting standards.

“Stop fussing, you look nice,” he grumbled, annoyed at being caught peeking. “I was just thinking you look pretty. Like you haven’t aged since we met.”

“Oh. Thank you.” Not that she was worried about aging yet, but it was nice to hear. She patted his knee to reassure him and returned her hand to its neutral position on her lap.

It didn’t stay there. She patted him again later during a lively discussion on destination weddings (since they were going to one), letting him know he wasn’t the only one who thought it was a pain in the ass. She touched his arm three times during other moments, and almost did it again before she caught herself. ‘What is up with me today?’ she thought, but she knew. She knew she wanted him. He always looked good in a suit, and a strand of his hair had come loose from its styling and hung right next to his right eye, and that was too charming. His lips were curved in a smile, relaxed for a change and all because of her, which she was always excited by since he relaxed so rarely. And his hands were confident on the wheel and stick shift of the car in a way that made her want those hands on her.

The next time she had an opportunity to pat his knee, she left her hand there. His breath hitched and his eyes flicked over to her. She waited a bit before she caressed his thigh, slow and soft, ready to move away if he asked. He didn’t ask though, not even when he shifted gears at a stop light and brushed the back of her hand, not when he glanced to his side and saw her lick her lips, not even when she smirked and dragged her fingers farther up his thigh.

What he did do, after miles of driving with her teasing him, was pull over.

It was a secluded spot in a parking area for a scenic overlook of some sort. There were white flowers blooming on the trees, offering shade and a picturesque fall of petals. The parking area was empty and small and shaded, and clearly hadn’t been repaved in many years. Wen Qing didn’t bother gawking at the flowers or reading the tourist signage for the little park near their spot, though, not when Jiang Cheng turned the car off and yanked her closer. “I was going to behave,” he said, voice so low he was nearly growling. “But your hand… Are you serious? About that?”

“About touching you? Yes, I am,” she said, and she closed the distance between them. The stick shift dug into her thigh and she had to break the kiss because she forgot to take her seatbelt off first and couldn’t stand the pulling. He didn’t laugh, thankfully, and yanked her close once she was free.

Their kiss was frantic and hard. Wen Qing had one hand on his cheek while both his arms were around her. Her other hand slipped inside his suit jacket and down his stomach, deliberately telegraphing her intentions. He moaned against her mouth when she started tugging at his belt. So far her desire was stoked mainly through her own imagination, and hearing confirmation through that one soft sound made her ache for him.

She glanced up, and satisfied they were still alone, asked him, “Are you still clean?”

“I showered this morning,” he said without thinking and she bit his lip in retaliation.

“The other kind of clean. Jerk.”

His color was high but he was too eager to stay angry with her (at the moment. He was fully capable of being furious and aroused and Wen Qing got even wetter at the memory. She kind of liked it when he was commanding, at least).

“I haven’t bothered with anyone since you. Didn’t feel like dealing with it. So yeah, I’m still clean.” Wen Qing wriggled partially into his lap and peppered kisses on his cheeks.

“I don’t have any condoms on me. But I’m still on the pill. So we can-“

He interrupted her with another fierce kiss, his hands cupping her backside and pulling her closer. “We can do whatever we want,” she finished, panting against his lips. Jiang Cheng kissed her again, and again, with his right hand still on her ass. She barely noticed his left was gone, wrapped up in their kisses as she was.

There was a jolt and a drop, and Wen Qing flopped onto his chest with an undignified yelp. He had reached to his left, to the controls of his seat, and slammed the manual lever to lower the back. They were now practically lying down in the driver’s seat.

“That’s better,” he sighed, putting his hand back on her and holding her close. From this angle, she could feel how aroused he was and she forgot to scold him for surprising her. He felt good under her, his dress-shirt soft on her fingers but his muscles hard beneath, his hips the perfect width for straddling. Wen Qing peeked up again, making sure no one else had pulled into their parking lot, and went for his belt.

His cock was still as nice as she remembered- a good size to hold, thick enough that he would fill her nicely, already hard and flushed and waiting for her. Yeah, he wasn’t the biggest she’d ever seen (that would be Nie Mingjue, but Wen Qing was no size queen and a cock of Nie Mingjue’s size was for special occasions only, as far as she was concerned), but Jiang Cheng /fit/ her like no one else did. Wen Qing wrapped a hand around him and stroked, marveling at the way he felt in her hand and how pretty he looked with his eyes squeezed tight and his mouth slack.

She leaned forward, pressing her chest against him as she whispered, “Can I ride you, Jiang Cheng?”

Her hand never stopped and his reply was a moaned out, “Yeah, that’s good. Fuck.” Only then did she pause her ministrations, wriggling her panties down her hips. Jiang Cheng fumbled at them, pushing at them but getting in the way in his eagerness to squeeze her ass. She somehow managed to get one leg free even with his misplaced hands and squirmed back into place, this time with her bare flesh against his. She rocked against him just to hear him moan, her wet folds pressed against the length of his cock. She teased him like this, glancing up to check for other people before she ground against him. The shaft of his cock parted her lips and he choked back another noise.

Wen Qing leaned forward to kiss him as she moved, and Jiang Cheng took the opportunity to shift a hand to his cock. He held it up so the tip nudged at her entrance as she rocked against him. She smirked at him, then captured his lips in a very thorough kiss as she threw her hips back and engulfed his length in her aching channel. His cry was muffled against her mouth, his hands squeezed her ass, and he thrust up into her.

(There was no leisurely make-out, which was one of her top things to do with Jiang Cheng because she’d also taught him how to kiss and cuddle just the way she liked, but that wasn’t what either of them needed. Time enough for that later, Wen Qing thought, and dammit she /was/ the sort of woman who hooks up at a wedding. Her main consolation was that maybe this wouldn’t count as hooking up at the wedding because they hadn’t arrived yet.)

Somehow they managed enough friction between them, fucking hard and fast and thankfully without hitting any gearshifts or brake pedals or -heaven forbid- horns. Wen Qing ground against him, their bodies pressed too tightly together for him to get his fingers on her clit. Jiang Cheng bucked up into her. It was awkward and unrhythmic but it did the job, and eventually she pressed her hips down as her inner walls tightened around him, so close to coming that her body nearly quivered. He swore and pulled her closer, his hands squeezing- not painfully, not in the heat of the moment, but hard and needy. If she were more delicate, she would bruise, but she didn’t care.

She came hard as his hands dug into her hips, and the instant she arched against him with her cunt pulsing, he came inside her with another curse and a groan. They tried not to pant into each other’s mouths as they caught their breath and Wen Qing buried her face against his neck.

“Congrats on your new car,” she said against his skin.

“Thank you,” he said, his hands now gentle on her backside. “I hope you’re enjoying it.”

She couldn’t resist. She caressed the seat leather and told him, “Yes, I am.”

(After some time, they arrived at the wedding venue, Wen Qing /definitely/ became the type of woman who hooked up at a wedding, and Jiang Cheng proved yet again that he had a fantastic memory regarding her body. Jiang Cheng’s sporty black car was named Qiu-meimei, after the white catalpa flowers that got stuck to the hood when they’d pulled over in that isolated rest stop on the way. And Wen Qing was so touched, she didn’t have the heart to make fun of his naming sense for a whole week.)

(End Note: The car's name is 楸 Qiū- catalpa, a flowering tree, + meimei- little sister. I am aware that flower names are sometimes/often used for sex workers in Chinese and that's part of the joke.)