#When I say a bit of a Day I mean the exhaustion's seeping through my bones and soul and I'm gonna go collapse in bed now

[anarchictemptation]

SOBS, the adopts are still in the works unfortunately, it's been...a bit of a day today. SO!! Hopefully tomorrow...Hopefully

[doitforbangchan]

All Bark and No Bite- 16

Masterlist /Series masterlist

Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8

ABO!Nonidol!SKZ Alternate Universe

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Chapter warnings: Fem/Afab reader, kinda smut, kissing, bathing together, cursing, crying, pet names, fluff. Really not much for this chapter but lemme know if i missed anything important.

WC: 6.2k

Not gonna lie, this is kind of a filler chapter. But I hope yall enjoy nonetheless :)

The rumbling that escaped out of Jeongins chest as he pumped you full would have been off putting to anyone around. They would have found the emittance to be dangerous- vicious almost- and possessive, with how deep and gravely the growl was as he bit into the tender flesh of your shoulder for the second time today. Having spent nearly three days with the young Alpha you knew well enough by now that he was nearing control over himself once again as he finished inside of you, the growl more of a warning he had cum. 

He let your used and bruised body slump into the sheet below you, your arms acting as a pillow under your head. Jeongin draped himself over you, pressing you further into the bed. His knot was still locked tightly inside of you and with each movement from him it rubbed against the sore walls of your core. 

The alpha laid wet kisses along your spine after he licked away the blood from his final claim on you. In total over his rut he had bitten into you eight times, in varying places all over your body. You could imagine you looked like you were mauled by a wild animal, though that wouldn’t be far from the reality. 

“I think it’s finally over, baby.” Jeongin breathed into your ear from above. He had a lightness in his voice you hadn’t heard since before his rut started. “I feel the effects lifting from me as if I can breathe again.”

“M’ so glad, Innie.” You murmured, the pure exhaustion you felt was coming through you clearly. “Now you can be comfortable again.” 

He cooed at you, “Oh omega, you sweet baby. I’m more happy for you. You have been so so good to me the last few days, taking everything I gave you with no complaints, letting me take whatever I needed from your precious body.”  He nuzzled into your neck and hair as he felt his knot begin to deflate. You both grunted as he slowly pulled out of you. His copious amount of cum was seeping out of you and onto the already soiled bed. With how much cum, blood, and sweat was covering it Jeongin knew it would be better to just toss it out at this point. “I can’t express how much it means to me- how much you mean to me. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and to our family.” 

You knew it was his post nut clarity that was making him sappy, but you couldn’t stop the sniffles that left you. “Innie… I feel the same way about you and everyone in this pack. You’re my family now and I love you guys.” You strained your neck over to kiss him and he returned the gesture. 

“Even Minho?” He teased, giggling when you rolled your eyes. 

“Hmpf.” You felt your cheeks heat, “Yes, even Minho” You threw a finger at his face menacingly “But don’t you dare say anything!” 

He laughed harder and pulled you closer, kissing your nose. “My lips are sealed. Buuuut, I’m not so sure about the gremlin who's listening outside the door as we speak.” He raised his voice slightly for the last part of his sentence . “You’re not slick, you Pabo! I could smell you from down the hall!”

Your mouth was agape when you heard a shriek- that sounded suspiciously like Jisung- coming from the other side of the door and then the scuff of scurrying feet. “I didn’t even know he was there!” 

Jeongin hauled himself off the bed with a hearty laugh, “He’s been doing that since day one. He comes around periodically, most likely to check on you to make sure I hadn’t eaten you alive. The whole pack does it. You seriously couldn’t tell?” 

You shook your head as you slowly arose from your laid position, wincing when you felt the throb between your legs. “Uh uh, I didn’t notice at all.” 

“I guess I did have you a little… preoccupied.” He had a smirk on his face as if he was proud of himself. “My senses were in overdrive so it made it easier to smell and hear them. My alpha instincts were on a constant high alert.” 

You nodded, “That makes sense. I felt similarly when I was in heat.” You could still feel the pooling liquid seeping out of you, the now coolness of it was making you grimace. “Since your rut is ending, do you think we could please go take a bath? The last few rounds have left me kinda.. Sticky.” 

“Oh yeah!” He slipped off the bed and found a pair of shorts somewhere amongst the wreckage of his room. He put them on and returned back to your side. “Come on, baby. Lemme carry you.” You lifted your weak arms up to him as he bent to scoop you into his hold and you wrapped them around his neck. 

He walked out of his room freely for the first time in a few days. All the other times you had to make sure the coast was clear and that no other pack members were on the same floor. Innies possessiveness and alpha aggression when he was in a rut was on another level so the young alpha generally tried to avoid leaving the room during that time anyways. Thankfully it was not the same for you. During his moments of rest and clarity you had been able to exit the room for bathroom breaks and food. The pack members always greeted you with gentle kisses as they assessed you and you had to assure them you were ok. Innie was particularly rough in his fucking of you after you came back, though; the scent of the other boys on your skin driving him crazy. 

“Wait! Should I put something on? I’m still naked..” You trailed off, biting your lip. 

Jeongin chuckled, “It’s nothing most of them haven’t seen before at this point, baby. Plus we’ll get you some clean pjs after you're all cleaned up.” 

Jeongin carried you into the bathroom and set you on the counter while he went to start heating the water and filling the tub. You watched as he found a few different bottles of bubble bath, and giggled quietly when he opened each one and smelled it before he decided on one he deemed acceptable.

While the tub filled you turned to look at yourself in the mirror. You hadn’t seen your reflection since this morning so you were anticipating seeing the new marks that had been left. You gasped lightly when your eyes found all the dark marks and bites left on your body. Innie really did a number on you, he was unable to control many of his urges when it came to claiming your body. You poked and prodded at a particularly deep bite wound on the side of your left breast. 

‘That's gonna be sore for weeks.’ You thought as you poked. 

“I think that one is my favorite.” Jeongins voice startled you as he rested his head on your shoulder, looking into your eyes through the glass. He had a cheekiness in his tone. “Was my favorite place to bite you. So soft and tender.” He sighed wistfully, as if remembering the moment. 

“Yeah, tender enough that it’s going to take forever to heal.” You huffed, narrowing your eyes at him. 

He snorted, pulling back. “You’re one to talk. Look at this monster you gave me!” He tilted his head to show you his neck that he had asked you to bite into the previous day. His skin was marred and dark red, showing just how deep your teeth had buried into his flesh. “Stings like a bitch now. But it’s ok, I kinda like it.” He grinned and gave you a clumsy wink.  

You laughed and shoved him playfully, “Ok mister masochist, help me into the tub please.” He obliged your request and hauled you into his arms once more before he lowered you into the heated water. Your head fell back with a deep sigh as you relaxed into the tub. He has chosen a lavender scented soap that was divine. Innie stepped in and settled himself directly behind you. He then leaned your back against his chest, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. “Mm this is nice.” 

He hummed in return, leaning over to grab a washcloth. He dipped the cloth into the water then pulled it up, giving it a squeeze to release the water inside. The alpha lovingly ran the cloth over your neck and shoulders, wiping away the remaining blood and saliva. Then once your top half was wiped clean he brought the cloth back down into the heated water, then gently to your core. Your breath hitched when he made contact with your folds. “Shhh baby, I know it hurts. Lemme clean you up, ok?” He whispered reassuringly in your ear. 

You let go of the breath you didn’t know you were holding, trying not to close your legs to keep him from touching you where you were most sensitive right now. He continued his slow and delicate ministrations while peppering kisses on your cheeks every time you let out a pained whimper. Eventually he finished his task, throwing the cloth onto the edge of the tub. Then he just let you rest in the still hot water.  

Sitting there in the tub was peaceful. Neither of you were talking anymore given how the fatigue was catching up to you both. It was nearing nightfall already, you could tell it was late evening by the setting sun casting in the small window. The lavender fragrance of the bath soap combined with the heat of the water was easing the tension in both of you. 

“Ya know, I haven’t had a bath in years.” Innie's voice startled you lightly, just as your eyes were about to droop. He laughed quietly when you jumped. “Sorry, baby. Just reminiscing, don't mind me.”

“Why haven’t you had a bath in so long? Do you not like them?” You asked, keeping yourself awake now. 

“I’ve never been a huge fan of sitting in hot water. Maybe my blood just runs hot. I also think it’s kinda boring. Just doing nothing in a tub. But right now I can honestly say I’m loving being here with you. I’m feeling very relaxed, and happy that I get to be with you.” He had a blush on his cheeks. 

“Aww Innie. You really are such a sweet boy.” Your heart swelled and you beamed at him. “ We can take baths together anytime you want.” You leaned up to kiss his jaw. 

“I’ll be taking you up on that offer, don’t you worry.” He kissed you back. 

“Can I cash in that offer too, baby?” 

You both looked up at the door being cracked open just slightly and a pouty face appearing, looking at you with hopeful eyes. 

“Hyunjin, what the fuck are you doing in here? Get out!” Jeongin groaned, annoyed now by the new presence. 

“No! It’s not fair! You’ve hogged her for days! I missed my baby!” The beta whined, his pout growing even bigger. “Plus you left the door unlocked so really this is your fault.” 

Jeongin scoffed, “You still got to see her everyday, your stink was all over her every time she came back to my room. And what about me?! Didn’t you miss me?!” He pulled you closer to his body, making the water slosh off the side of the tub.

“Of course I missed you, Innie. We all did.” Hyunjin replied with an eye roll. “But I’m not mated with you now am I? No, I’m claimed by my baby and now it’s my turn with her.” He skulked closer into the bathroom and grabbed the towel that was left on the counter. “So give her here.” He looked at the alpha expectantly as he held out his arms for you. 

Jeongin grumbled a whine, “Hyunnng you’re being so mean to me.” Still, he scooted you forward slightly so Hyunjin could grab you. Jeongin gave you a final kiss, “ I love you, I’ll see you in a while, baby.” He whispered to you before he handed you over to the beta. 

“Love you Innie.” You replied then let Hyunjin pull you from the tub and into his arms, where he promptly wrapped you in the big fluffy towel and whisked you out of the bathroom. 

Once you were out of the bathroom Hyunjin nuzzled into you with a purr as he carried you to your room. “Mm I missed you so much baby.” 

You giggled, his hair tickling your neck. “Missed you too Jinnie.” 

He set you gently on your bed as he ran the towel over your form, being mindful of the fresh bites and bruises. He bristled when you winced, “Sorry, love. Innie sure did a number on you, huh?” 

You gave a weak chuckle, “Yeah, he got a little rowdy. He always apologized afterwards so I don’t mind.” 

Hyunjin went into your wardrobe after he wiped you down and pulled out some pjs for you. He helped you dress even when you insisted on being able to do it yourself. “I wanna take care of you, baby. Let me help you.” You couldn’t deny him when he pouted like that, batting his eyelashes at you. 

He had put you in a tank top and panties, then he turned away to get you out some pj pants. That small distraction was all that was needed for the peeping tom at the door to spring in. Hyunjin screamed in surprise as Jisung swung the door open with a lightning quickness and launched for where you were seated on your bed. You yelped a laugh when he scooped you into his embrace. “Ahh Jisung! What are you doing?!” 

“Hi baby.” He grinned as he stood up now with you in his arms. He smooched you on the lips.He gave Hyunjin a glance “Sorry, gotta blast!” Then he sprinted out of the room, holding you.

“No! Jisung you asshole, I was having my time with her!” Hyunjin screeched as he chased the younger beta. Jisung was running down the hall towards the stairs cackling loudly. You were holding on for dear life, a nervous grin on your face. “Stop! I’m serious! It’s not fair!” 

“It’s my turn now! You had yours, I missed her too!” 

“I had a whole 6 minutes with her!” 

“Sucks to suck!”  Jisung had gotten down the stairs and had barely made it around the corner when he ran into another figure. Jisung nearly fell backwards at the impact. He ended up backing up into Hyunjin who had been right on his tail. 

Amidst the whole debacle, it was Changbin who grabbed you from Jisungs falling form. Jisung had run into him when he was coming to see what the commotion was. “What a pleasant surprise.” The alpha grinned. “Nice to see you, baby.” 

You giggled, letting him take you. “Hi Binnie.” You wrapped your arms around his neck. 

“Changbin! Give her back, it's my turn.” Jisung whined like a child when he was able to set himself upright again. 

Hyunjin pushed him with a scoff, folding his arms. “You stole her from me, asshat. It’s my turn.” 

“Sucks to suck, right guys?” Changbin snickered, then turned and walked down the hall. 

“Boys I’m not a toy! There are no turns.” You protested from your place in Chanbins arms. Your pout was light; you couldn’t be mad at any of them for this game of toss around. You had missed them all so much, even though you saw them all briefly during the last few days. 

“Of course you're not a toy, baby. These young boys need to learn some manners when it comes to a beautiful woman.” Changbin threw a playfully dirty look behind him at the betas who trailed behind. 

“Are you gonna be the one to teach them, Binnie?” You teased, nuzzling into him. 

He flexed with you still in his hold, boasting of his strength. “Who better than a strong alpha like myself?” You laughed into his neck. “Take notes, boys.” 

Changbin carried you all the way through the house and out the back door onto the back patio. The outside string lights were on, illuminating the patio as the sun continued to fall further from view and the night settled in.  The grill was on and there were various plates of vegetables scattered around the table next to it. The air was hot and mildly humid. Summer was definitely here now.

 Leaning on the banister next to the grill was Chan and Minho. Chan's face lit up at the sight of you coming out the door. Minho couldn’t hide the twitch of his lips when he saw you, his delight peaking through. 

“There's my love. Was wondering when you would come down and join us.” Chan approached you and Changbin as the latter plopped down on the outdoor sofa with you in his lap. Chan cupped your cheek and leaned in close to you, rubbing noses with you. He gave you a gentle kiss with a smile. Changbin huffed in mild jealousy, pulling you even closer. “Oh come on Bin, our girl deserves all the love we can give. Why be stingy, hm?” Chan hummed with a laugh as he pulled back.

“Exactly!” Jisung came crashing down onto the furniture beside you on the right, grabbing onto your arm attempting to pull you away. “You read my mind, oh wonderful leader.” 

Hyunjin was the next to speak up. “ You literally stole her from me! If anyone is stingy it’s you Ji!” He stomped his foot petulantly before coming over and sitting on the left side and grabbing one of your legs.

All this tugging was starting to make your wounds hurt, so you tentatively and quietly tried to interject, “Umm guys, can you please be easy on m-”  

“Jinnie, you went and took her right from Jeongin! Don’t act all high and mighty, I see through that shit!” Jisung cut you off, seemingly unable to hear your timid voice. He pulled on your arm a little harder. 

Changbin squeezed you to keep you in his hold, making you wince. “ You guys are children.” He rolled his eyes. 

Hyunjin scoffed, his grip accidentally digging into one of your darker bruises. “ You’re one to talk, you ripped her right from Ji.” 

“I saved her from you idiots!” 

You felt your eyes start to water from the pain and from being ignored. You felt too timid to interrupt them again so you just took it. Though, you didn’t have too for long. 

A deep growl halted all the boys in their actions. All of you swiveled your eyes to Chan who still stood a few feet away, now with a menacing look on his face. His eyes were narrowed at the three boys who held you captive. “That is enough from you three. Can’t you see your fucking hurting her?” He stalked closer and reached down for you. 

Immediately they all let go of you. Changbin spoke up, “ I’m so sorry baby, we should have been gentler on you.” 

“Especially since you just got done with Innie. I forgot about your wounds baby I’m sorry. Hyunjin apologized sheepishly. 

Jisungs lip wobbled as tears welled up in his own eyes. “M sorry, please don’t hate me.” 

“It’s ok, I’m not mad. And I could never hate you, Ji.” You wiped your tears once Chan had you secured in his arms. He still had a pissed off crease to his brows. You brought your thumb up to smooth over his brows, smiling when he kissed your palm. He carried you to the picnic table they had set up, placing you down on the bench. He straddled the bench and had you lean against him. 

“Mm much better, huh omega?” He hummed, kissing your head and holding you close. 

“Yes alpha.” You relaxed against him. You could hear his heartbeat from where you rested. It was calming. “ I’m gettin tired, Channie.” 

He chuckled, “I would be surprised if you weren’t tired, my love. You have been kept very busy lately. You gotta stay up for a while though, dinner is almost ready. The pack has been excited to share a meal together as a whole again.” You nodded, trying to keep yourself awake. 

Looking around you noticed how much food had already been laid out. There was a pile of kabobs, fresh veggies and a plate with some chicken. You looked up as Minho brought another plate full of done food and set it on the table in front of you. 

He gave you a teasing smile, “Hi baby. Welcome back.” 

You couldn’t hide your grin, reaching a cautious hand out to him, unsure if he would grab it. “Hi Min. Glad to be back.” Thankfully, he did. He held on to your hand for a second, running his thumb along the skin of your knuckles. Then he brought those same knuckles up to his lips, placing a kiss there. It was so soft you almost didn’t feel it. It only lasted a moment though, before he let you go and returned back to the grill.  

You let your hand drop with a sigh. Sometimes you wondered where you stood with Minho. One moment it seemed like he hated you, the next it was like he cared for you. Almost as if you were lovers. The back and forth from him was giving you whiplash to say the least. Chan was behind you, running his lithe fingers along your exposed thighs. “Hey now, no more thinking for tonight. Just relax, omega. I got you, Alphas got you.” 

You nodded and were going to reply when you were distracted by the sliding door flinging open. Felix stepped out holding a plate, Seungmin was right behind him also holding a big plate. “Ok this is the last of it!” Felixs eyes found yours quickly and he shoved the plate he held at Minho, who cursed him out for almost dropping it. He scurried over to you quickly, kneeling down to be beside you. “Y/n, baby. Are you ok?” He looked deep into your eyes, pressing his forehead against yours. 

“Mhmm, I’m fine Felix. Just really sleepy.” You shrugged sleepily, giving him a kiss. 

Seungmin sat down in front of you with a snicker. “Oh I bet you're really exhausted after what Innie did to you, huh baby? If the sounds that came outta his room was any indication.” He deepened the pitch of his tone, “ ‘Oh omega I’m gonna ruin you, I’m gonna breed you and make you mine.’” He imitated the youngest pack member, adding in fake growls. 

“Seungmin!” You pushed him away as he laughed, “Don’t be vulgar.” 

He leaned in real close with a smirk, “I thought you liked it when I talked dirty to you, puppy.” 

You stuttered, turning your face away from all the boys. “Well… I- um..” You felt your face heat up as you tried to come up with a witty response but fell on none. “ Well you're a jerk so, blah.” 

You felt Chan laugh from behind you, clearly he was amused at your turmoil. “You’re so cute, omega. So feisty.” 

“Don’t you start making fun of me too!” You craned your neck back to see him biting his lip to hold back his chuckles. “You’re supposed to be on my side!” 

He held one hand up in defense, “ I am on your side, baby. But I also know he’s telling the truth, so why fight it.” 

You huffed, crossing your arms but wincing when you accidentally brushed against the deep bite on your breast. Felix was the one to notice your discomfort. “What’s wrong? Are you hurting?” 

You rubbed the spot that was sore, “It’s nothing, just a leftover battle wound from helping Innie.” 

Seungmin was still sat in front of you and he had zero hesitation before he reached for the bottom of your shirt and yanked it up to expose your chest to him. 

You gasped, trying to pull it back down, “Minnie! What the fuck?!” 

He smacked your hand away as he tried to locate the area that was bothering you. “Oh stop, we’ve seen you naked before there's no sense in being shy. Let me see what’s bothering you.” 

Chan soothed you by pumping out calming pheromones and rubbing your back. He wanted to see the damage himself anyways. 

You slowly felt yourself calm down, giving in to the boys around you and dropping your arms. “Thata girl.” Your alpha praised you with a kiss on the back of your head. You had calmed down so much in fact that you hadn’t even noticed your outburst has caused every member present to stare at the scene unfolding, each of them eyeing your now exposed breasts. Chan continued to pour praises and sweet words into your ears as the beta in front of you got to work inspecting.

Seungmin held your shirt up with one hand, while the other was prodding around at your fresh bites and marks. His gaze was searing into you in a scrutinizing way, as if he was meticulously counting each and every tooth mark and finger print that lingered on your body. He clicked his tongue when he saw just how deep some of these bites went, “Jesus, pup. You got fucked up didn’t you? Poor thing.” He had a sympathetic tone to his voice.

When his nails accidentally dug into the wound on your breast you winced and squirmed. Felix - who was still beside you- ran his hands comfortingly along your exposed thighs. “You’re ok, lovely.” He reassured you the best he could, but if he was being honest with himself; seeing you sitting here almost naked, just in your frilly pink panties, was making him drool. He risked a glance over at the other boys and could see the same thing for them. 

Jisung and Changbin both had their hands in their lap, as if trying to conceal their erections. Hyunjin had a proud smirk on his face (he had picked her panties out, afterall) as he bit his lip. The only one not ogling the omega was Minho, who had his back turned to the scene but Felix could see the tight grip the elder beta kept on the spatula. 

Chan and Seungmin had total concentration on your body, both looking you over for the particularly painful ones. Everyone was so invested in you that no one heard the door slide open again until the youngest alphas' voice startled them. 

“What the fuck are you guys doing?” Jeongin had stepped out to join the pack, his hair was still wet from the bath and he was barefoot. “Is this some kind of weird orgy?” 

Seungmin let your shirt fall back onto your torso with a scoff, “You wish, you sick pervert. We were examining all the marks you left on her.” 

Jeongin rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “Ha uhh yeah, I got a little carried away.” He came to your side, pushing Felix out of the way. The beta responded with a quick ‘Watch it, asshole!’ before he moved out of the way and went to sit at the table. Jeongin crouched down beside you and took your hand, “How are you feeling, baby? Still feelin sore?” 

You nodded, “Uh huh. ’m also really worn out. I need a nap.” 

Chan cooed at you from behind you, “My poor girl, you have to eat a full meal first. We gotta get you to heal up.” 

“Good thing it’s all ready now then.” Minho brought the last big platter of grilled meats and veggies to the table. He set a plate down in front of you and began to serve you your food first. He gave you a little of everything. “Here you go, be careful it's hot.” 

“Thank you Min.” You grinned appreciatively. He nodded in return, setting a lemonade down in front of you as well. 

“Come and get your food, ya filthy animals.” Minho called to the other pack mates who weren’t yet around the table. For that comment he received a few middle fingers (that he just laughed off evilly). 

After everyone was sat and served, it really dawned on you how much you enjoyed this life. The teasing and comradery was something that was still taking you some time to get used to, but it felt more like home each and everyday. While you ate Chan kept one arm around your back, keeping you close to him while he ate with the other hand. Seungmin was to your left, keeping his hand on your thigh under the table. Changbin was seated across from you playing footsie with you under the table. 

It seemed they all had their own ways of wanting to be close to you. The realization made a wide grin appear on your face. 

“What's got you so happy over there, sweet girl?” Felix brought you down out of your own little world. 

“Nothing,” You replied, crinkling your eyes at him. “Just thinking about how happy I am here with you all and how much I love you. ” 

The silence after your statement was deafening. There was a beat where no one said anything, and for a split second you felt your heart drop into your stomach. A creeping feeling of doubt began to wash over you, but it was quickly erased by the  loud chorus of “AWWWWW”s that flooded out of each boy. Suddenly you were swarmed by the pack, ending up in the middle of a huge pile of man. The sudden overwhelm of all their scents was beginning to make you dizzy. 

“You’re so cute, omega.” Chan had a cheekiness to his tone as he giggled in your ear from behind. 

You felt a wetness falling onto your chest, the drops seeping in through the shirt you wore. And then you heard the sniffles. “Ji… Please don’t cry. You’re gonna make me start crying.” You could already sense the tears welling up on your lash line, threatening to fall at any moment. 

“I can’t help it.” He wailed, burying himself into your shirt even further. “You make me- us- so happy, baby. Plus it’s not just me crying! Look at Lix and Hyun, they're crying too!” 

Now that he mentioned it you could faintly hear the little hiccups and sniffs from beside you. 

“Don't bring us up when you know we’re emotional, you dick head!” Hyunjin shrieked, pulling Jisung away so he could now hold you closer. 

“Alright guys, let’s get off of our baby. She’s still sore, ya know.” Chan was casual with his demand, being the first to pull back from you. 

“Yeah thanks to Jeongin.” Seungmin snickered and eyed the youngest Alpha. 

Jeongin cast his gaze down quickly, riddled with sudden nerves, then looked back at you with an apologetic crinkle of his eyes. “Sorry again, omega.” 

You reached your hand out to him to take, “Innie you don’t need to apologize to me anymore, or at all. I took care of you like a good omega does for her alpha. Plus, I had a lot of fun with you. You made me feel… really good.  ” You beamed at him to show you meant every word. 

He grabbed your hand, ignoring the hollering that erupted from the rest of the teasing pack. He sent you a wink before he leaned in to give you a peck on the lips. 

“Our little boy is a man now!” Changbin laughed loudly as he gave Innie a hard pat on the back. 

“Hyung, I’ve always been a man. At least more of a man than you.” Jeongin dodged the smack that was sent his way from Changbin, cackling with amusement at the elder alpha’s displeased huff. 

“You wish you were half as man as I am!” Changbin tried to puff out his chest to give a more dominant display, but all it did was make everyone laugh louder. 

“And you wish you were half the man that Channie Hyung is.” Felix added to the banter, looking to get a rise out of Bin. 

Changbins chest deflated as he pondered the statement. Then he shrugged in agreement, “Yeah pretty much.” 

“Ok ok, If we’re done eating we should clean this up. All this food left out will attract bugs.” Chan stood from his place, grabbing both his and your plates in his hands. He smooched your cheek as he stood, “sit tight love.” 

“I want to help!” You protested, eager to help the pack with even the simplest tasks. 

“You are helping. You’re sitting there looking pretty for us.” Minho patted your head as he passed you, carrying a large platter back into the house. 

You felt your cheeks heat up, turning away from him so he didn’t see the pleased look on your face. 

It was a few minutes later that the whole table was cleared and cleaned up. Chan came back for you and held out his arms for you. You lifted yours so he could grab you into his hold. “Let’s get you to bed, omega. I know how tired you must be especially now that you’d have a full meal.” 

Now that he mentions it you were starting to feel that fatigue from earlier. You covered your yawn with your hand, then nodded in agreement. “Yeah I think I’m ready for bed, Alpha.” 

He passed by the kitchen so you could say your good nights to the other boys. “Goodnight guys. I’ll see you in the morning.” You offered them a lazy smile. 

“Damn, is it that time already? I feel like I haven’t gotten to see you at all.” Jisung pouted, coming in to kiss you. 

“I know I’m sorry, ‘m just really tired.” You were starting to feel guilty about needing to sleep. ‘He’s right, they have barely seen me. Maybe I should just stay up for a while.’ 

There was a sudden twinge of sourness that was leaving your body, your contrition coming through clearly for all to smell.  

Jisung was speedy to backpedal his words, “No, it’s totally ok! You should definitely get your rest!” His boba eyes were wide and his hands were raised in a defensive way. “In fact,” He deepened his voice to act intimidating, “It is my command that you get some good rest, asap.” 

Chan snorted a laugh and there were a few scoffs and chuckles from the other boys. You had hid your smile behind your hand, you couldn’t help but feel amused at his phony display of dominance. “As you command, master.” 

Jisung visibly gulped at the name, but his reaction was nothing compared to the reaction Minho was having, the beta practically choking on his spit. He attempted to cover it up by pretending he accidentally ran into the counter when he received a side eye from Hyunjin. Minho's mind went racing at your comment, liking the way the title sounded on your lips. 

“Say goodnight to Baby, I’m taking her to bed now.” Chan brought you to each of them so they could all give you small kisses and wish you goodnight. Then he swiftly carried you up the stairs and to his bed. You will never get over how strong he is, carrying you like you weigh no more than a teddy bear.  

He set you down and covered you in the blankets. He then climbed in next to you and cradled you in his arms. You purred affectionately as you nuzzled into him. You felt instantly soothed at being back in his embrace, in the bed you share together. The alpha felt the exact same way. He was more than thrilled to have you back with him. One day he could handle, but the three days were borderline torturous. 

“Channie..” You whispered, your voice quiet as it cut through the silence within the darkness. 

“Mhm” He answered, his own eyes beginning to droop. He hadn’t slept much the last few nights, too anxious to get any real rest. 

“I love you.” 

“Mm, I love you more.” 

The both of you were out like a light.

Minho's mind has been stewing for a few days. Ever since he met Changbins new friend, Wooyoung, something hadn’t felt right. It felt like he was missing something. 

He remembers the encounter very clearly. The beta man had been friendly, almost too friendly. And very personable. He had answered each of Minhos questions, none of which seemed to raise any alarms. 

‘Where are you from?’ ‘Goyang, it’s a city up north.’ 

‘What brings you to town?’ ‘Here to help out my uncle.’ 

‘Whos your uncle?’ ‘Park Jin-young.’ 

‘Are you mated to an alpha?’ ‘Yes, his name is San. We've been mated for a few years.’ 

‘Where is he at?’ ‘He’s back at home, taking care of the cats.’

All of his answers seemed to check out. Though to Minho, the answers did seem a little too clean. There was just something that was off. Something he couldn’t quite place a finger on. He knew he would have to be diligent going forward. He didn’t want to say anything to anyone about it yet, in fear of being completely wrong. But he would hold this thought close to his chest. 

Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

Also if any one wants to chat about the story or share predictions please send me an ask!!

Beta read by my loves @ayejaii and @jehhskz <3

©doitforbangchan

Taglist- Closed

@chxnb97 / @butterflydemons / @zaggprincess2 / @stellasays45 / @uhhheather / @walnutspie /  @a-mistake-tbh / @meowmeeps / @realrintaro / @ihrtlix / @raehawthorne / @juskz / @freckleboilix / @marvelsmarauder / @0325tiny / @iyeeeverydee / @stars-garden / @boi-bi-ahaha / @gini143 / @queenmea604 /  @palindrome969 / @f9clementine / @theysaidhush / @kpophosblog / @usercaiskz / @honeym0chi / @nobody3210 / @changbinswife10789  @5starluvr / @neyangi / @jiminssluttyminx / @ayejaii / @iknowleeknow/ @jeonginnieswifey / @catlove83 / @upsidedownchaire / @emmxxsworld / @manuosorioh / @igetcarriedawaywithyou / @blondechannie / @woozixo / @ilovejeongin007/ @yaorzu-blog / @theydy-madamonsieur / @jehhskz / @feybin / @rylea08 / @sebastianswhore13 / @kihyuns-military-wife / /@lilyuwon @xx3rachaslutxx / @hahhahahjakakla / @skzstaykatsy / @zerefdragn33l / @yuhhhhh-slay / @im-sinking-in-mud / @n0y4 / @writhingwrecked / @silentreadersthings / @softkisshyunjin

the bolded names couldn’t be found for some reason 🥲🥲 sorry y’all

[thestarfishinjootsoffice]

I would like to request more slasher x reader whos on the period and is just emotionally exhausted and does a fall hug on them and sighs 😞

I actually looked up period aesthetic on Pinterest 🤦‍♀️ (didn't work, I had to instead looked up blood stain aesthetic)

Ps: why the fuck did I think it was a good idea to put blood stains pictures here, and also this might be the last post for this week and the next week, since my exams are only one week away I really need to start focusing on my studies. I love you all, byee :)

Slashers in this are: Michael myers, sinclair brothers, Jason, and lastly, Billy and stu

Warnings:

Relationship: romantic!!

Slashers with exhausted reader on her cycle!

Michael

Michael sat rested on the couch of your living room. Letting himself sink into the soft cushion. This day was particularly satisfactory by far... Except for one thing.

You were ignoring him. You've stayed in your room with food and a bunch of other stuff saying you were on your period, you've explained to him before and stuff. But that didn't give you the right to ignore him. What did he even do anyway?

Deciding thinking about why his s/o's mad at him on their period isn't his thing, he shuts his eyes and prepares to pass out.

The silence and the comfy atmosphere. Not too hot not too cold, slightly slouching to his side now that the drowsiness is getting to him. Until he hears the door open ,your door open. he quickly sits straight waiting for your figure to come into the living room.

Are you mad at him right now? Are you going to yell at him? Did he forget to do something?

He sees you enter the room and make eye contact with him for a few seconds, waiting for you to do Or say something. He becomes a bit alert when you start walking towards him, you don't seem to have a bit of aggression in your manner and you just seem... Tired.

flop!

Next thing he knows you're on top of him with your hands around his body. Sighing loudly you don't do anything and he starts hearing you softly snore.

Maybe just these few times you can physically get this close to him. He takes a few breaths before his eyelids start feeling heavy again and he starts to feel less and less energetic.

Subconsciously he puts his hand on your back as the two of you slumber into a deep sleep together.

Sinclair brothers

Bo's not really the best in verbal comfort but he sure is one hell of a good physical one. He sat on the couch reading a newspaper after a long day of being mean. Having a cup of coffee on the small table next to the couch you kinda wanted to laugh. Your overly aggressive boyfriend sitting so quietly and almost innocently on the couch on a Thursday morning is really a contradiction to his usual behaviour. But the inner exhaustion is making you dramatic. Walking over to him he notices you. "What?" He questioned, not a single sound of roughness in them. Hmm, maybe he really was in a good mood today. Taking this as your sign you grab his newspaper and then fall on him dramatically, not forgetting to hug him as you do so. Sighing as you feel the warmth of his body seeping into yours. "What do you think you're doing?" He asks a bit annoyed and a bit more confused. You place the paper on the arm rest on the couch and just continue to rest on him. Bo stays quiet for moments before he wraps his arms around your waist. "Well you could've just told me if you wanted a hug." He chuckles a bit. Let's just hope this isn't cut short.

Vincent Although can't really talk or comfort you verbally, is willing to do anything for you. Acts of service, physical touch, gift giving... Anything. Especially since you're on this painful and tiring process called "a period" He's on his bed reading a book he got from a traveller. Flipping through the pages he hears steps coming towards his room. He memorised your footsteps by now and closed his book but kept his fingers in between where he was reading. He saw you in his sight and tilted his head as to say "is there something you need?". You smiled a bit and went towards him and your body went softly crashing into his. Tightly hugging around his neck and you sigh because honestly hugging him was the most comforting thing ever. Vincent's a bit startled but rubs your back as he realises you're just tired. He kisses the top of your head through his wax mask and he starts blushing and grins when you turn to him and his cheek. He couldn't help but fall for this side of you every single time.

Lester was the best at any kind of affection. So anytime you felt the bit of sadness you immediately went to him. Today or during the cycle was no exception, trotting over to find your lovely dearest boyfriend you needed someone to lay all your love on right now. You finally saw him, Lester who was dropping by for a few days to accompany his brothers was on a couch with Vincent, it seemed they were silently discussing something. Probably they broke the wooden floor and were planning on how to tell Bo without angering him. (Impossible) besides all that, you just wanted to feel your lover's warmth around yours. Lester who noticed you after Vincent did, immediately lights up with a goofy smile. "Hey baby! How are you doing?" You instantly knew he was referring to your cycle, you gave a small smile on your tired face. You walked over to him with your arms extended and fell on him. "Woah!" He relaxes after a few seconds. He strokes your hair as you lay quietly on him. (Vincent third wheeled his way out of the room.)

Jason

It were a particularly quiet and peaceful few days camp crystal Lake. Which was a very good thing which meant a longer spending time with your undead boyfriend.

Especially since being on the flow meant more emotional draining. And although your boyfriend wasn't the warmest in body heat, he definitely was the warmest in showing you his love.

He was on a bed just resting because he didn't really have anything else to do. He didn't wanna bother you since you said you were on your period and didn't wanna risk you getting mad at him. (He would be extremely sulky.)

In his train of thoughts he hears footsteps creaking and immediately gets up, did a trespasser come into the cabins without him knowing? He grabs his machete that was on the ground and prepares for any sort of unfamiliar faces, he sees your face and sighs. He drops his machete as he realises he almost hit you with it.

You see him and stare at him for a few moments. He tilts his head and you start walking over to him and jump on him with your arms around his body.

He presses his mask against your head as you sigh. He couldn't express how much he loves you if he were honest. He strokes your head as he thinks so.

Billy n stu

You knew who to go to when you needed some physical affection. Having two people around you was more than enough.

You couldn't bother telling them about the problems and pains of your period since they're both lowkey air heads.. Just one of them is a bit smarter but definitely more sassy with a shit more attitude.

You slowly made your steps over to where you heard bickering, you saw the two of your boyfriends who you could see were talking about a horror movie most likely. You lazily walk to them, damn. They still don't notice you yet.

You decide to just fuck it and throw your body to where they were and Billy made a surprise grunting noise as Stu just yelped.

"Jesus! You fucking scared the shit out of us Y/n!" Billy exclaimed. Stu made a small "yeah!"

You just sighed tiredly. You wrapped your arms around both of them. "Well, we were just about to watch a movie. Wanna join us?" You just nodded as you felt them adjust themselves around your grip.

You relaxed after you felt Stu hug you tightly as Billy started going through the tapes with his legs around yours.

You were starting to relax until they started bickering again. Damn they couldn't shut up could they?

[luciaramosc]

⁎⁺˳✧༚ enchanted

pairing: carmen ‘carmy’ berzatto x afab!reader

warnings: fluff, kissing, swearing, insinuated bath time, nothing graphic

word count: 1.8k words

an: i wrote this in the trenches (waiting to be seen at urgent care) so please excuse any typos 🙈 currently gnawing at the bars of my enclosure because i’ve been sick all week, but the delulu is as strong as ever!

Carmen’s head hung low in his hands, his elbows resting on the battered desk as the knot in his shoulders weighed against him. His mind itched to grab the pack of cigarettes in his pocket, but the exhaustion seeped through his veins too heavily to even bother. His ears were entranced by the rhythmic tick…tick…tick… of the clock above the office door, but the new-found quiet had been welcomed after a day of yelling and dishing. He moved his head to rest on his palm, and his tranquil eyes struggled to flutter open. With his other hand, he began to scribble nonsense for orders that he hoped he could translate tomorrow morning, but he knew his attempts were becoming futile when he wrote “10 pd skt stk,” meaning to write “10 pounds skirt steak.”

In the midst of his battle with sleep deprivation, Carmen hadn’t even noticed the string of texts you sent his way. It was nearing 12:30am, and you had just left the bar you worked at when you pulled your phone out and invited him to your apartment for the night.

Carmy :)

12:27

Hey bub! I just got off of work and I’m heading home

Sleepover? My bed’s cold without you :(

12:31

I have a bottle of your favorite wine if that convinces you ;)

12:38

Carmyyy

Are you still at The Bear?

Okay I’m calling you

Carmen’s head slipped off his palm and lulled him awake, and his bleary eyes fought against the bright light of his desk lamp. He heard the constant buzzing of his phone, and surmised that it had to have been you calling him. His decorated hands rubbed his eyes before he shuffled papers and folders around to find his cell, but to no avail. As he heard the buzz come to an end, he huffed out a breath, and he ceased his search. Instantly, however, his phone began to shake again, and a smile graced his face at the thought of his girl missing him that much. After pushing a few more unnecessary items off the desk, he found his found phone with a picture of you illuminating his screen. He swiped his thumb to answer the call, and he pushed his phone to his ear, desperate to hear your voice.

“Baby? You okay?” you asked once Carmen picked up. Delighted, his lips curled up into a smile.

“Hey princess, I’m alright. Just got caught up with papers and shit,” he rasped out, sleepiness laced in his voice. “I’m wrapping up here though. What’s up?”

“I just wanted to see if you wanted to come over tonight,” you hummed into the line. “We haven’t seen each other much this week, and I know for a fact you haven’t slept well.” You giggled softly as she uttered the truth.

Carmen cracked a chuckle at her words, knowing that she wasn’t wrong. “Yeah, sweetheart, no need to rub it in,” he muttered in a half-dazed state. “But yeah, gimme like,” he peered down at his watch, reading 12:40, “20 minutes and I’ll be there. Is that okay, honey?”

You opened the door of your apartment, closing it behind you before locking it as you cradled your phone between your ear and shoulder. “Yeah, absolutely,” you told him as you set your bag down. “I can pop some cookies in the oven in the meantime? Unless that’s out of your league, chef,” you teased him. He could hear the smirk in your tone as you joked about the cookies.

“Haha, very funny, baby. Gonna hit me with anything else?” he asked her.

“Not right now, no,” a smile cracked at her lips. “It’s not my fault you decided to date a comedian. ‘Can’t take the flame, don’t get in the kitchen,’ or whatever nonsense you guys say.”

“Alright, not too much,” he chuckled out, the sound vibrating deep in his chest. “I’ll see you in a few, alright sweetheart?”

She bit her lip in thought before closing out the call. “See you in a few. I love you, Carmy.”

“I love you more,” Carmen said before hanging up the call. He put his phone into his pocket before running a calloused hand through his curls. His drowsy eyes scanned the room briefly, wondering where to start, before picking up the mistrewn papers and folders off the office floor. He set them in a neat (ish) pile on the desk before standing up from the rickety chair. He stepped out of the office, taking one more peek of the kitchen and dining room to ensure they looked the same as they were when The Bear closed (They were, Carmen’s just paranoid). Not soon enough, Carmen punched his work card for the night and took the keys out from his pocket, turning them in the door and locking up for the night.

As Carmen made his way back to his place to get an overnight bag, you had occupied yourself with prepping for your boyfriend’s stay. You dressed up your apartment with candles, put your speaker to play smooth jazz, and set up your bathroom with elements for a well-deserved bath for both you and Carmen. You knew that things with the Bear had been picking up for him, and while you could not have been happier for him, you knew that it took a toll on his well-being, so you were thrilled that he agreed to spend the night and relax for a moment.

Within a few minutes, the oven chimed and you got to taking the cookies out the oven, the rich smell of cinnamon and vanilla filling the apartment. You put on some oven mitts and right as you slid the hot trays onto the counter, the doorbell rang, letting you know that Carmen had made it safely to your door. “Just a second!” You called out, taking the gloves off and letting your hair out of its updo. You sauntered over to the door, and you’re met with Carmy holding a bouquet in his hands, the arranged pinks and oranges capturing your attention. “Hey sweetheart, sorry for the late hour,” he uttered, motioning the arrangements towards you. “I brought these ‘cause they reminded me of you,” he admitted with a lovesick grin on his lips as you grabbed the bouquet.

You peered down at the flowers in your hands before looking up at him, staring into his soft eyes, evidence of exhaustion painting his features. “Carmy, you shouldn’t have,” a soft pout puckered at your lips, tears swelling in your waterline. “This is so sweet, thank you bub.” You smiled up at him before pulling him inside, saving him from the coolness of the night. You closed the door behind him as he pulled your frame towards him, one hand resting on the plush of your hip as he pressed a sweet peck on your lips. “Carmy, it’s 1am, where the hell did you get these from?” you giggled out, confused, though appreciative of his gift.

“I meant to stop by earlier during my lunch break to drop them off,” he began, rubbing the back of neck sheepishly, “but shit hit the fan, and I got caught at work.”

“Well, I love them either way. Thank you, bub,” you assured him with a smile, pressing a kiss on his cheek. “Let me take your bag to my room. Eat a cookie or two, please. I know you’ve barely eaten today, chef,” she playfully demanded. You grabbed the duffel from his hands before heading towards your bedroom, delicately leaving the bouquet on the kitchen table to set up later.

You dropped the duffel bag off at the foot of your shared bed before joining him in the kitchen, watching Carmen take down two cookies in three bites. “Good for supermarket cookies, huh?” you teased him, poking his bicep. He shook his head playfully before looking at you, adoration pooling in his eyes with a smile to match. “Good for supermarket cookie,” he repeated. You grabbed one of the cookies off the tray, still slightly warm, and took a bite, savoring the taste after a long night at work. You made yourself a mental note to buy more of these christmas tree cookies before the holidays ended.

After finishing your last bite, you made your way to the sink, grabbing a vase and filling it with water for your flowers. You grabbed the bouquet off the table and began to cut the ends at an angle, taking in the scent of the tulips Carmen brought you. As you were getting lost in a rhythm, Carmen came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your frame and resting his head on your shoulder. He pressed soft kisses down your neck, trailing down to your shoulder, effectively distracting you from your work. “You could be a florist, ya know. You’ve got gentle hands and a good eye for stuff like this,” his accent hummed out in your ear.

It was your turn to softly chuckle at his words, feeling the way his hands trailed down to hold the plush of your waist and how the feel of his fingertips on your skin felt blissful. “Oh, I’m sure, Carmy,” you quipped out, taking your lip between your teeth as you moved the flowers into the watered vase. Once you were done, you moved the arrangement from the sink to the kitchen table, setting it next to the candles you lit earlier.

Carmen trailed behind you out the kitchen, resting a gentle hand on the small of your back. You stepped back into the living room and sought solace in the warm arms of your lover, his strong arms holding you flush against his frame. The two of you rocked back and forth in a gentle rhythm to the soft beats playing, simply in awe of this sweet little life you’ve been able to create. You and Carmen created a perfect harmony out of the asyncopated clutter in both your lives, but you wouldn’t mind another thing on your plate as long as it meant coming back into Carmen’s arms every night.

One of his hands rested on the warmth of your waist while the other trailed up to hold your chin, bringing your lips to meet his in a domestic buzz, sharing sweet kisses in the candlelight. You broke apart and rested your forehead against his shoulder, swaying in the lovestruck air. “I set the bathroom up if you want to take a hot bath later. I got those salts you like to put in the water that help with your muscles. How does that sound?” You whispered out, gently playing with his curls. “God, you’re so good to me,” he playfully groaned out. You placed one last peck on his lips, cradling his cheek in your hands as a smirk adorned your features. “Sounds like a plan to me, then.”

[bellarkeex]

Let Someone, Let Me. [Jude x Cardan]

Jude's exhausted from her Queenly duties, Cardan takes care of her

☾ warnings: don’t think there is any, mention of the Undersea, soft Cardan, fluff 

☾ read on ao3: here

☾ wc: 745

Exhaustion had seeped into my bones many hours ago. The last few days had seemed like non-stop revels, living council meetings, and running around so often I'm surprised the soles of my shoes are still intact. In my strained attempt to conjure up any final bit of energy I had left, some may say my behaviour had begun to border on 'unseemly'. More so than usual.

Cardan had also been his usual, oh so helpful, self as he'd decided to fill his days with lounging on his half of the throne and entertaining our subjects. I mean, I suppose he's listened to the occasional request.  

I reach where Fand stands outside our room. I barely manage to greet her before I'm pushing my way into the room, making a beeline for the bed.

I don't register Cardan laying there until he's pulling me into his side, tucking an arm around me to stroke lazy patterns into my back. His tail coming to rest atop my thigh.  

"Well, I've had a very long day of entertaining our lovely folk, what about you my wretched wife?" He sighs with dramatised fatigue into the top of my forehead.  

"Is that why the ongoing revel is missing your wonderful presence?"  

"Would you stab me if I said maybe I've missed you these last couple days?"

"Not right now." I sign into his chest, letting my hand slide under his lowly buttoned shirt. "It seems like a lot of work."  

At that he gives me a small chuckle, before he's sitting up to take my feet into his hands. Fingers carefully untying the laces of the shoes I hadn't managed to take off, then reaching for my stockings to pull them off my aching legs.  

Then he's leaving me. Disappearing into the bathroom. I hear faint water begin to fill the tub and when Cardan returns his clothes have been discarded, moonlight illuminating the skin of his chest.  

Despite my exhaustion, I can't help but notice the skip of my heartbeat at his sudden nudity. But if Cardan notices the flush of my cheeks, he doesn't mention it.

I don't have the energy to resist as he picks me off the bed to haul me into his arms. Not that I would.  

"What are you doing?" I breathe against his neck.  

"Jude." he gently shushes me. "Just let someone take care of you for once. Let me."  

I'm placed before the filled bath, cool stone beneath my feet sending a chill through my spine. Flickering candlelight reflects in the steaming water below me, creating shadowed waves which dance along the bottom of the tub. I push away any thought of the Undersea, forcing myself to breathe deeper, and narrow my focus on Cardans hands skilfully unlacing the back of my dress to help me step out of it.  

"Should I be worried?" I raise my eyebrows in question, gesturing in the direction of the candle. "You seem to have an awful habit of setting your rooms on fire."  

He only smiles and begins to lure me into the tub with a soft hand, guiding me to sit in front of him.

I allow myself to rest against my husband as he holds me to his chest, grounding myself in his presence. I'm thankful for the window that has been cracked open, the occasional breeze reminding me I'm above water. Only then do I let myself become conscious of the warm water that's beginning to sooth my sore skin.  

Neither of us speak for a while, basking in each other's company trying to make up for lost time. Simply breathing in one another. 

Cardan takes his sweet time in gracing his hands over my aching joints, as though he's trying to relieve my body from the tension it holds, before reaching up to gently release my hair from the pins letting it flow over my shoulders. Under his touch I slip deeper into the warmth of his chest, eyes heavy lidded I try to focus on the steady thump of his heart and the light touch of his fingertips.  

I must fail in my attempt to resist sleep because I wake beneath the embroidered covers of our bed, washed, and my hair loosely braided.

It doesn't take long for me to fall back into a peaceful sleep, head leaning against the slow rise and fall of Cardans chest.  

But not before managing to mumble a barely audible, "I've missed you too."

☾ i like the idea that Cardan knows how to braid hair even though no one's ever taught him. i imagine he has it memorised from all the times he’s watched Jude do it, so he tried to recreate it when she was asleep. 

[crxssjae]

Worship, Caresses, and Tattoos

Summary:

Tattoos are elegant. Jey understood why they were perfect, thanks to Sami.

a/n: This fic is inspired by WWE: Tattooed when they show a focus on Jey and his explanations on his tattoos. I gotta say, those are amazing ink details and made me wanna write a body worship/tattoo worship.

Also posted on AO3 (here) and Wattpad (here). These belong to my samijey/jeysami short and long stories collection called "All Night."

Other WWE fics and samijey/jeysami fics are posted on my WWE masterlist here.

Word Count: 835

Warning(s): 18+, NSFW, explicit language, slight smut (still minors DNI), body worship, first time writing a tattoo worship.

__________

Never failed to confirm excuse after excuse Sami spoke. An enthusiastic tone, curious glimpse across the room with a head peeked behind the door. Jey knew while unbothered to ask.

He let him. He didn't waste breath. He acknowledged why Sami had to do what he had to do to receive Jey's attention. Every morning, every night, those lips featherlight on his skin, stress vanished elsewhere.

On his stomach lying flat on the bed; his expression etched exhausted from a busy day. The nape of the neck to the back, almost tatted all the way, peeped through the blankets along his rear. Jey doesn't care. Being free from clothing gave fresh air help unless remained in a boxer.

Muted footsteps approached the bed, simple to sense who it was since both are alone. One of Jey's eyelids cracked open, awaring Sami left the bathroom after a shower, wrapped in a white robe with slippers. Jey quirked a smile, motioning him to join.

Those admired, hazel eyes took a moment to wander Jey's features. Sami lay next to him, shifting his position with a comforted sigh. Fingertips ghosted over the left inked arm— the tenderness seeped Jey's veins.

"Still naked for a surprise, huh?" The velvety danced in Sami's tone along with a giggle. His index finger trailed the lines on the bicep.

Jey turned his head to the side, giving Sami a playful look. "Y'want me to, mister 'Lemme take a shower n' be naked in a robe'. Don't think y'slick 'cause I know you."

"What makes you think of that?" Sami teased with a hum, a tiny lie was there. Feather-light smooches on Jey's shoulder, then on the side of his back. Sami's head perked up in question when Jey let out a huff. "Was that false, too?"

"Maybe? Y'know what I'm talkin' 'bout."

"No, no, seriously. What do you mean?" Sami tried to play it off.

"Y'know, baby." Jey's voice dropped husky. "Y'know."

Gliding one of his hands to cradle Sami's face, Jey noticed him nuzzle his cheek on the palm and peck with an exhale. Wrist, forearm, back to the shoulder, to the collarbone. Fondness blew his mind in a single passion adored to him only.

He ruffled Sami's mane while his other hand still grasped the cheek, signaling to keep going before turning onto his back on the bed. Traces of pleasure tingled head to toe. Sami worshiped tattoos on Jey's body in a murmur, as he planted kiss after kiss on curved neck and pecs.

It felt right. It felt perfect like Jey wanted.

Breathed a sudden, sweet whine, Jey couldn't help but splay his legs and gripped the sheets. Those whines quickened into ragged gasps as Sami's tongue lapped his stomach before swirling the belly button. The thirst for thrill took over, forming the desire to reel the addiction between them.

Lower until halted to Jey's crotch, Sami does the same method on the inner thighs. Jey arched his back, tugging his hair, setting his legs on Sami's shoulders. His dick throbbed with arousal; a bead of pre-cum leaked from the tip smeared on Jey's belly.

"Damn," Jey's chest heaved, mouth gaped when Sami bit on the spot jolting his veins. "Dat feel good."

Sami paused, glancing up at him with a coy smile. "What can I say? I'm an expert on loving addictive tattoos and masterpieces like you."

Those words fluttered Jey's heart. Squirmed side to side, unable to avert Sami's gaze. "S'this a flirtin' contest or somethin'?" he mumbled.

"It's not a contest. I'm telling the truth. You're still magnificent."

"Shit. I guess… I guess this is true. For real, though, I'd never thought seein' myself bein' perfect or... magnificent, whatever dat word y'said."

Sami's eyes sparkled. "To me, you're still you. Your tattoos, your personality, your body, everything. Even if everyone looks at you differently, thinking you're perfect and all out uncaring, you followed your heart to be who you wanted to be."

Jey stared. Awe, disbelief, appreciated. Feelings spiraled all over, he couldn't tell which.

"I, uh," Sami shook his head, thinking there was a misunderstanding that put Jey in confusion, "forget what I said. I'm sorry—"

"Don't be." Jey cooed, patting Sami's head. "Y'way too kind apologizin'. Would be bad to be sad all day n' not kissin'." he grinned and did a sultry wink.

Both exchanged their happiness. Sami winked with a mischievous glint, crawling upward, then leaned to his ear. His low whisper flustered him, stumbling words out of Jey's mouth. Jey had no choice but to watch his boyfriend go back between his legs before Sami swiped a tongue on the tip of Jey's dick.

One time, Jey admitted when he was alone. Ached for his bare skin and tattoos to be loved throughout each morning, each evening. He got his wish, received by Sami.

"There you go, baby." Jey moaned in a pleased tone. "Fuck, you naughty."

Accept any excuse Sami told as long as he is treated and worshiped.

__________

Thank you for reading!

Tagging: @southerngirl41, @coolpandasblog, *@bbkquartz, @rosiel77, *@katiewayne2020, @afterdarkprincess, *@invictusrey, @harmshake

If your username is in bold with an asterisk, it means Tumblr won't let me tag you.

Taglist for samijey/jeysami shippers those who wanted to be tagged for my future fics of samijey-> here

[crazylittlejester]

I come in offering of your hardest prompt ever: let wars take a nap

But fr i think if would be funny if wars and twi were out doing something late and wars just could not stay awake so twi has to give him a piggyback back to the chain and by the time they back twi is so tired he just collapse on his cot with wars still on his back

oh no oh goodness *panics* hardest prompt i’ve ever gotten in my life 😔/hj

I hope I successfully gave them a nice nap. Here you go!! (701 words)

The hardest days weren’t always after lots of monster attacks and fighting, but often the day AFTER, when they were exhausted and spent a full day walking and on edge, prepared for an attack that would never come. It left them all tense and stressed out, and Twilight found it near impossible to relax after days like that, days like today.

He was pacing the camp, walking back and forth along the same small trail his boots were carving into the earth, lost in thought when Warriors came over and tapped him on the shoulder. Twilight jumped involuntarily, shooting the captain a glare, but the other man just stared back with a shit eating grin.

“We have some time before Wild and Time are done with dinner,” Warriors pointed out, “and I saw a small pond a little ways back. What do you say we go check it out?”

Twilight looked behind him at the rest of the group. Legend was passed out asleep on top of Hyrule, and Sky was playing his harp close by. Four and Wind were talking quietly with each other and, as the captain had said, Time and Wild were working together on dinner. Surely if he and Warriors left for a short while it’d be okay… right?

Before Twilight could properly make up his mind, Warriors gently grabbed his hand and started walking away, leading him off through the woods. When they reached the pond they both got distracted by a bright red butterfly, and spent a few minutes trying to get it to land in their hands. The butterfly eventually ended up landing in Warriors’s hair, and the captain shrieked when it had flown directly at his face, causing Twilight to laugh so hard his stomach hurt. The glare the captain shot him did absolutely nothing with the pretty red butterfly sitting on his head.

They messed around for a little while longer, until all the tension had seeped out of Twilight’s body and he felt himself truly able to relax. They’d taken their boots off and splashed around a bit in the shallow water, and Twilight had gotten so focused in making shapes in the sand that he hadn’t noticed the captain disappear.

“W- Wars?” He asked, confused, looking all around the pond to see where his brother had disappeared off to. When he found him he let out a laugh, quickly covering his mouth with his hand to stop himself from being too loud.

Warriors had gone to sit up against a tree, and he seemed to have fallen asleep; his chin was resting against his chest, putting his neck at a rather odd and uncomfortable angle, and he was breathing slowly. He must’ve tired himself out and crashed.

“Wars,” Twilight called, nudging the captain. The man didn’t stir at all so he tried again, shaking his shoulder gently. “Cap’n.”

Blue eyes flew wide open, looking around frantically. “Huh? What?”

“We gotta go back to camp,” the rancher told him, pulling his boots back on. It would really suck to end the day by stepping on something sharp on the forest floor. “C’mon.”

Warriors groaned, sounding annoyed, and flopped down onto the ground.

Twilight rolled his eyes. “Do ya want me to carry you? ‘Cause I will.”

The captain looked up at him with wide hopeful eyes. “Would you really??”

“Yeah, but only if you get up right now.”

He didn’t think he’d seen Warriors move so fast before, and that was how he ended up carrying the captain on his back back to camp. The longer he walked the harder it was for Twilight to keep his eyes open. Warriors wasn’t heavy by any means, in fact the captain was alarmingly light for someone who was very close to Twilight in height, but with how exhausted he was, the rancher probably would’ve tired quickly carrying just a small bag.

The second he reached the clearing where everyone had set up camp, Twilight flopped down on his bed roll, Warriors landing on top of him. His brother grumbled at the rough landing, wiggling around until the two of them ended up cuddled up together. Within seconds, both of them were fast asleep.

[actual-changeling]

for Meg, cause you're having a hard week <33 @ellie-licious

now on ao3 here

-

"What the fuck is a snowman?"

Joel blinks, fingers still curled around the cup he just set down. It's early November and the universe has decided to fuck her over by sending Jackson one snow-heavy cloud after the other, topped off with an early overnight snow storm that left them with several inches of snow. The last few days have been rough for both of them, her nightmares crawling out from their hiding places like bloodhounds finding a promising trail, and Ellie has abandoned her bed for his with the first dusting of snow; her sheets are starting to collect dust.

She presses her hot cocoa closer to her chest to feel the warmth seep through her sweatshirt and the two layers of clothing beneath them, not that she needs them while inside, but it gives her a sense of protection, an armor to wear. Her plan for today is, well, was apparently, to curl up with Joel on the couch and either try to catch up on the sleep she is missing with the daylight ready to keep her vampiric memories away, or watch one movie after the other until she passes out from sheer exhaustion. Joel, however, is oddly motivated to get her distracted outside of the house rather than inside, and suggested making a snowman once the coffee machine stopped gurgling behind him on the counter.

"You have never built a snowman?"

"Joel, have you ever seen a FEDRA soldier that isn't allergic to everything remotely fun?"

He snorts, sipping his coffee with a smile tugging on his lips, and she tries to swallow enough of his happiness to replace hers, bits and pieces of it gradually disappearing into the cold.

"A snowman is pretty much what it says on the tin, you roll up a bunch of big snowballs, stack them on top of each other and give it a face."

Ellie tries to imagine it, blurry memories of her very first visit to Jackson scratching somewhere at the back of her mind, and while she can't come up with a satisfying enough picture, she's sure her creativity will make up for it. Then, the last part of Joel's sentence fully sinks in, and she surprises herself with the ball of excitement that makes her bounce, almost spilling her cocoa down the front of her shirt.

"A face, you say? Any face?"

Joel is very, very glad the mischievous glint in her eyes has found a different victim today.

The next five minutes are a messy rush as they wiggle themselves into their winter clothing and tie up their boots, almost tripping over each other more than once when Ellie is incapable of standing still, idea blooming in her head. Yesterday, the cold draft alone made her flinch, but when she rips open the door now, gloved up and with a beanie pulled deep into her face, the sting of snowflakes on her cheeks is powerless against her excitement.

Joel shows her how to form proper snowballs, not satisfied until he approves them as 'structurally sound', whatever the fuck that is supposed to mean, and once she gets the hang of it, her ambition rises to the sky. They spend over two hours rolling and pressing together an almost life-sized snow person, with Joel doing the heavy lifting and Ellie carving out more details and giving helpful instructions.

"To the left, no, my left Joel not yours. Lower, it's lopsided now, Joel I said left, are you deaf?"

He stops, snowball, well, snow boulder at this point, really, dangerously balanced against his hip.

"Right, yeah, you are. Still no excuse for sloppy work though," she continues, not the least bit apologetic, and her cheeks hurt with the smile frozen onto her face, Joel's eyes brimming with an adoration that makes her blush.

They are finally done around lunch time, only noticing they missed it when the first people start to trickle back to their houses, heads turning when they pass their front yard. The sky stayed a piercing blue all morning, not a single snowflake in sight anymore, and when she presses herself against Joel's side as tightly as she can with with half a person of fabric between them, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her in, she no longer needs his happiness to stay warm, brimming with her own. Joel nudges her hat to the side so he can press a kiss to their temple as they admire their piece of art.

The real fun happens a few seconds later, though, when familiar footsteps come up behind them.

"What- Joel what the fuck is that my jacket?"

The snowman is exactly as tall as Tommy, facial features intricately carved by Ellie, a threadbare black blanket imitating his hair, and, to top it all off, Ellie may or may not have stolen some of his brother's clothes to make it as true of an imitation of Tommy as a bunch of snow and stones can be. She turns around, still holding onto Joel, and the stunned look on Tommy's face melts away when he sees the smile on hers.

"He was cold, Tommy, and besides, it suits him way better than you."

Maybe winter isn't going to be so bad after all.

[lovehugsandcandy]

tongue of silver, taste of blood

Pairing: Aerin x f!MC, Blades of Light and Shadow

Ratings: M (blood, illness, pain, swearing)

Word Count: ~11,000

A/N: This is set after Book 2, with the assumption that Nifara will be the villain? Idk. Thank you to @choicesficwriterscreations for all the work you do on the archive!

Summary: In which Aerin meets the vhampyrs. In which the vhampyrs learn the tale of the mercenaries of Lord Kelvin Gillbottle. And in which that tale gets the ending it deserves.

He feels it, the telltale prickling in his head, a subtle but undeniably present static behind his forehead. 

There’s someone else in his mind.

Aerin clears his throat and speaks aloud, alone in the empty cell. “I know you’re there.”

Hello, Little Human. Apparently, you know my tricks. She’s probing, delving into his psyche, but he bats down everything rising to the surface as he desperately searches for a thought to cling to, something innocuous, unrevealing, something that won’t put his entire mission in danger.

“I will tell you…” He cuts off to cough. “I will tell you the story of Lord Kelvin Gill-“

Little Human, I don’t want stories. The voice hisses, but Aerin is certain; he knows, if he can keep his mind focused on nonsense, there will be nothing of value for the voice to discover.

“Well, it’s not about Lord Gillbottle, per se, but more about his mercenaries.”

And so he starts the story, a fanciful tale of roving adventurers becoming heroes, and it continues until the static leaves his mind and, exhausted, he slides into unconsciousness.

~~~~~

“What do you mean the vhampyrs can read minds?”

Aerin jerks awake. It’s cold wherever he is; he’s since lost track of where the vhampyrs led him, somewhere through a maze of never-ending stone stairs and dusty crypts, and even rubbing his hands over his arms doesn’t quell the chill. There’s one blanket, threadbare, draped over his legs, but he refuses to clamber into the bed he was given so when he lies on the floor, the cold of the stone seeps unyielding into his bones. 

Searching through the recess of his brain, thankfully, it’s quiet - his thoughts are clear. No static. During the day, the vhampyrs sleep, so he’s alone in his mind; besides, he knows that voice that just echoed in his head. 

It wasn’t the vhampyr.

It was a memory. Mal, leaning over a tattered map, in the Palace Archive.

More of the memory returns to him, unbidden.

“What do you mean the vhampyrs can read minds?”

“Not all, but some. The powerful ones. They can delve into your head,” Kade says, a stack of tomes towered beside him to match the two spread open before him, his fingers flipping carefully through weathered pages. It appears that he has pulled every single book he could find on the creatures from the entire Palace Archives; Aerin is almost impressed.

“Can you stop it somehow?” Raine asks, already in planning mode.

“No,” Tyril says, shaking his head. “Not to that I know of. An Elven lord once tried to create a charm of sorts, but it failed miserably. And then they drained his blood and put his head on a stake.”

“Vile creatures.” Imtura crosses her hands over her chest as she speaks. “Are you sure we need to meet with them?”

Rain frowns. “Yes. We need them as allies.”

“But we managed before, with allies that can’t read our minds.” Imtura says.

“The stakes are even higher now.” At least Raine looks apologetic as she continues. “We need anyone we can find.”

Aerin frowns before offering a likely unwelcome interjection. “And, there is something you can do. You can’t stop them from trying to get their way into your head, but you can stop them from finding anything.”

“What do you mean, princeling?” Tyril asks.

Aerin sighs, glancing away. “When someone else is in your mind, you can sense it, feel it. It’s a bit like static in your brain. So, when you sense it starting, you need to think of something else, something you don’t want them to know. Or they will learn everything.”

“Of course you know what it’s like to have voices in your head,” Mal sneers, and Aerin glares back. 

“Well, they couldn’t read your mind, as there’s nothing of value there.”

“Enough.” Raine speaks, cutting off the brewing brawl. “It’s not much, but it is something. Time is of the essence here; we will need to split up.” Aerin waits and doesn’t breathe while she surveys the group. “Valax and I will work on that unstable rift. Tyril, could you and Mal travel to the Cliffs of Colaris? Imtura, you will go to Necropolis and meet with the vhampyrs. Nia will accompany you. And…” Aerin shifts his feet as her eyes meet his. “Aerin will go, too.”

Imtura grimaces, swatting his arm; Aerin tries not to wince at the sharp ache. “Looks like it’s you, me, and Nia, princeling.”

At least Raine looks apologetic and hangs back, waiting until the others have left to catch his arm. “Are you ok with this? Going into the vhampyrs’ lair?”

“Where no one has come back from alive?”

“Those are just stories.” 

Aerin grimaces and says, “Even the stories are unsettling.”

“They are sentient; I am sure we can reason with them.”

“Are you sure I can’t accompany you instead?”

She sighs. “Kade filled me in on everything he knew about the vhampyrs. Their ways of living, their power structure. I need a diplomat, someone who can drive agreement with them.”

“Imtura can’t do that?”

Raine laughs softly, and it’s so much like music that he’s compelled to smile back. “She can get you physically out of there if need be, and Nia will protect you all with her Light. But I need you to get through to the vhampyrs. Just like you struck an accord with Baroness Isador, I need someone clever to do the same with the immortal.”

He rubs the back of his neck; while he would rather travel with Raine, he can’t doubt the logic. He does have half a mind to doubt the faith she shows in him, but decides to only reply with “I’ll try.”

“I know.” She glances around, making sure that their companions have departed before stepping forward, catching his cheek in her palm. “You’ll come back to me, right?”

“Of course.” He smirks; judging by her raised eyebrow, she’s thinking of all the times he left. And yet, each time, he returned. “Raine. I will always come back to you; I told you, until you order me away, I will be here.” He tangles their fingers together.

“I know. But I am sorry to make you do this.”

“It’s alright.” She has no idea what he would do for her and, before he can profess that lengthy list, she leans forward to press her lips to his. 

Aerin’s eyes fly open. They cannot have this part of his memory; he would die before he lets any of the bloodsuckers take it from him. This one is his - and Raine’s - theirs alone.

These memories come like a dream, but he’s unsure whether he’s still sleeping. All he knows is that it’s night.

At least he thinks it is. With no windows, the passage of time has become choppy, incoherent. The servants, clad in dark shrouds, deliver food twice a day; assuming it was dusk and dawn, it’s been two days. 

Four meals.

He eats little.

Aerin clambers from the floor, just as the familiar static returns. 

Hello, Little Human. The voice speaks, disembodied. He’s alone in the cell, the words only in his mind and, if he weren’t familiar with whispers calling out to him, he’s sure it would be thoroughly disorienting.

“Hello.”

I would like to ask you something. Lady Lilith is still surface level, not digging yet, so he entertains the query.

“What?”

What does the Commander of the Armies of Light want with creatures of darkness?

“You live in this realm, so you have an interest in its continuation, do you not?”

The issues of the human world do not concern us anymore.

“This is bigger than just one race, truly.” The static grows louder and he winces; she’s now deeper, looking for the truth in his words. He begins the story anew. “So Lord Gillbottle had asked the mercenaries to travel through the deep, dark forest.”

This again?

“Yes, it’s called the Deadwood, where I come from. You’d fit right in.”

Very funny, Little Human.

“So Lord Gillbottle sends them to the Deadwood, but he never expected that they would run into the drakna.”

What are drakna?

“Giant monsters. Horrid things. My brother - I mean - anyway. The monsters were chasing a pair of princes.”

Human princes?

“Yes, human princes traveling the kingdom from Whitetower.”

Why were there princes in the Deadwood?

“They were traveling. Do you want to hear the story or not? The mercenaries bravely fought off the drakna and saved the princes.”

Why?

At this, he loses focus. “What do you mean, why?”

Why did they save the princes?

Dumbstruck, he’s not quite sure how to respond. “Have you never done anything because it was the right thing to do?”

There’s laughter, and it’s a brittle, olden sound that seems to travel over centuries. What do you think, Little Human?

“I think you have. I think you have done good before.”

The voice only snorts at that.

“They saved the princes because that is what heroes do. But there was gold involved. Later.”

Later in this interminable tale?

“If you would rather discuss terms of joining the Unified Forces of the Light Realm as we fight the Olden G-”

Enough! The scream echoes around his skull and he winces, palms jumping up to cover his ears. But they do nothing to dim the screech coming from his own mind. It is an insult that the Commander did not come. We will not engage in discussions with feeble diplomats.

Aerin drops his hands, stung. “I’m not just a diplomat.”

What do you mean? The voice changes to a purr and he realizes, a split-second too late, that he lost control.

“I mean to say, would you like me to continue the story?”

If you are not just a diplomat, then who are you?

Aerin doesn’t reply, only runs through times tables in his mind until he feels ready to speak. He doesn’t want to give them any ammunition. 

Indeed, he’s not quite sure he knows the answer himself. 

Finally, when he has assured himself that his thoughts and voice are all under control, he speaks. “The princes gave the mercenaries gold to accompany them through the forest. Well, they promised them gold. But before they got the gold, they needed to set up camp for the night. So they all set up camp by a lake, and settled down.”

And so the story continues until the static subsides, and he is finally left alone with his thoughts.

~~~~~~

Would you like to see my fangs?

The buzzing in his skull howls, and he forces it aside. “That is a very odd question, not something polite company generally asks.”

Lady Lilith giggles. Would you? The others always seem fascinated.

And then she’s there, the door flying open at her inhuman strength; Aerin can just glance through the doorway to see a milling servant before Lady Lilith closes it again, the slam shaking the walls. 

“Hello,” he says, rising from where he had been picking through his meal (breakfast or dinner, who could ever tell?). “I’m flattered to warrant a visit.”

“You cannot see my fangs without my presence.”

“I am not sure that -“

“When the humans come, they always stare. Wouldn’t you like a peek?”

He doesn’t yet know what to make of her. She looks remarkably like a child, a rather pale one, but still small. Her bony wrists peek out from her shroud and her smile is almost impish in candlelight, but, when she speaks, Gods, Aerin cannot believe he ever considered her young. The weathered tone of her low voice carries eons, millennia, and it echoes dully in his ears. “I am not interested in your fangs. I am interested in your alliance.”

She’s at his side in an instant, the superhuman speed a blur to his human eye, and her thin fingers drag his hair back so his neck is bared. It’s an uncomfortable angle, the crown of his head tilted so far towards the side of the room that his throat feels stretched and his eyes water, but he forgets the pain when he feels two pin-sharp teeth, right at his jugular.

“I could do it. Right now.” She’s so close her lips brush against his skin with every word, breath tickling the curls that graze his neck, and his heart leaps into a frenetic pace in his chest. “I can see your pulse, Little Human. So close. May I just- may I taste?”

“No.” 

“But it smells so delicious. You don’t understand, do you, what it does to us. Like metal and vengeance and pain. May I?”

It’s a struggle to stay still, but he does, though the nails digging into his scalp make his eyes water, though all he can see is the uneven ceiling above his head. If he sways closer, the sharp points will pierce his skin and, if he moves farther, the hand gripping his curls would snap his neck. “No.”

Finally, with a low groan, she releases him. “You’re lucky you are somewhat amusing. Little Human.”

“Aw, you noticed? I’m touched.”

“I do hope your Commander comes for you.” She steps toward the door, turning as her hand grasps the handle. “It would be a shame if you perished before she arrived.”

By the tone of her voice, Aerin is not sure she considers it any shame at all.

~~~~~

When he is sure it’s daytime (at least he thinks, he thinks, he thinks he is losing his mind) and the vhampyrs are asleep in coffins of their own, he tries to remember, as much as he can, anything, anything at all, that would prove useful.

He remembers packing for the trip, a satchel long lost.

He remembers leading horses over uneven terrain and then, when the path was too treacherous, walking on foot, for days.

And he remembers the starkness of the ruins, Necropolis empty and falling into dust before his very eyes.

“Where are we supposed to look?” Nia asks, carefully stepping over a fallen column. 

“The crypts.” Aerin answers. It feels a betrayal (yet another one) to hope they don’t find it.

They pass ruins and more ruins. Buildings, crumbling to dust. Town squares, desolate and silent save for the howling wind. It’s old, deserted, and they walk down streets of rubble until they come to the center of the city and one solitary mausoleum.

Aerin has seen his share of palaces, but this stands alone in his mind. It’s the only structure truly standing for miles, four stone walls seemingly untouched by the ravages of time. The walls are a deep gray, imposing and strong; if not for the rays of twilight glinting across the stone, they would look almost black. They enclose a space no larger than a single room at the Whitetower palace, short and squat. There are no windows, only an imposing metal door stretching into a pointed arch.

“Is this the place?” Imtura’s eyes are dubious as she takes in the stone. “I don’t know if I can fit inside.”

“Must be. It must go down, underneath the city.” Aerin answers.

Imtura cuts her eyes to him before she turns to the iron-wrought door with a shake of her head. “Shall we?”

“No, let’s wait. We need to give it a few minutes.”

“Why?” Nia looks curiously at him.

“The vhampyrs won’t be awake. They sleep during the day and… and hunt at night. We need to catch them right as they wake up.”

“How do you know all this, landrat?”

“Books in the Archives, research.” He shrugs. “It’s mostly fable, but better than nothing.”

“Anything else we should know?” Nia asks.

“They do not feel temperature; those receptors on their skin are all dead. They drink blood, obviously, but also eat things full of blood, organs, the like. Don’t eat the food. It’s not meant for human or orc consumption; legends claim that ingesting food touched by the hands of an immortal can make you ill. Like, incredibly, deadly ill.”

“Sounds pleasant.”

“Indeed.” Aerin wracks his brain for any other tidbit of information he has gleaned from the archives. “The clan is about fifty individual vhampyrs, all sharing a fang line.”

Nia glances at him. “A fang line?”

“The clan is all descended from the bite of the clean leader. Very hierarchical, and we will be expected to show extreme deference to the leaders. And they are very devoted to those in the clan; loyalty is highly valued.”

“So they probably won’t take too kindly to betrayers, will they, princeling?”

Aerin shakes his head, something like dread pooling in his stomach. “Probably not.” Not one race in the world takes kindly to traitors; it’s not like the vhampyrs would be an exception. “I don’t remember much else. It’s been so long since I dove into that section of the archives.”

“It’s fine.” Nia smiled reassuringly. “I’m sure it will be enough.”

“Reckon we can enter now?” Imtura asks.

Aerin surveys the horizon. The sun has just dipped below treeline; while the hazy clouds above reflect a few pale rays, it is undoubtedly dusk. “Yes. We should go.”

Imtura leads them closer down the path, weathered and crunching beneath their feet, and they stand before the unnervingly imposing door of the tiny building.

Something tickles in Aerin’s memory, something about visiting.

Before he can parse the recollection, Imtura knocks and the door creaks open. A tall, thin vhampyr stands before them; Aerin tries not to gape, but he’s sure his mouth is hanging open. This is the first vhampyr he’s seen in the flesh and, while he knows that staring is a rudeness, he can’t help himself. The vhampyr is pale, his flesh almost glowing like moonlight, and his eyes beam a pale red that seems to overshadow his entire face. His cape is deep obsidian, flowing out behind him in the evening breeze, and thin fingers curl around the door.

Those red eyes stare at them for entirely too long; Aerin shivers under their weight but, if Raine is relying on his diplomacy, then he has no choice but to step forward.

“Hello. My name is Aerin Valleros, emissary of the Commander of the Armies of Light,” Aerin bobs his head in greeting and gestures to each of his party, “and these are my companions, Imtrua Tal Kaelen, of the United Clans of Flotilla, and Nia Ellarious, Head Priestess of the High Temple of Whitetower.”

If the vhampyr knew of them, he did not react, only continued to drive his eerie gaze straight into Aerin’s soul.

Aerin inhales before continuing. “We are here on behalf of the Commander to discuss a matter of deep import that would affect the entire realm.”

Still, the vhampyr says nothing, the silence eerie and cold, though his long fingers tighten against the doorway. Slowly, he steps back, and Aerin shares a glance with Nia and Imtura. Shrugging, Imtura takes a step forward and, as her foot hovers over the threshold, Aerin grabs her arm, stopping her in her tracks. She only raises an eyebrow but obliges, taking a step back.

Aerin addresses the vhampyr. “May we come in?”

His heart hammers as he waits but, finally, there is a slight smile and the ghoul speaks at last, voice like the rattle of a scroll over every consonant. “Please be welcome.”

They follow his silent footsteps and, in a low tone, Aerin whispers, “We need to be invited inside. It’s important to them.”

Imtura only shrugs and ducks as they follow down a pale stairwell, torches lighting the way on each side. Aerin loses track of how deep into the earth they travel, but, eventually, the stairs open into a wide entryway where three additional vhampyrs await them. This is obviously the ruling family. There’s a broad man clad in a black cape, looking impossibly tall in the flickering torches. The woman beside him is adorned in a dazzling deep red gown, lace dancing up a gray collarbone to highlight a dazzling blood-red gemstone dangling from a satin ribbon. And then there’s a girl, perhaps twelve, looking intently at them, clad in a simple dark shroud clamped tightly around her torso with thin hands that taper off into pointed nails.

“Hello.” Aerin nods and, though his mouth runs suddenly dry, he curls his fingers into his palms and continues. “I am is Aerin Valleros, the emissary of the Commander of the Armies of Light, and these are my companions, Imtrua Tal Kaelen, of the United Clans of Flotilla, and Nia Ellarious, Head Priestess of the High Temple of Whitetower.” Imtura and Nia step forward, Nia with a small curtsy.

The three vhampyrs turn and look at each other before the man steps forward. “I am Baron Claudius, and this is Madame Miriam.” The woman curtsies as she is introduced, and a hint of fang peeks out underneath burgundy lipstick. “And this little one is Lady Lilith. Thank you for respecting our customs; as we would not seek to enter your home uninvited, we appreciate your courtesy of the same.” The child smiles, a tight, forced movement, and terror creeps up Aerin’s spine.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, and we thank you for your hospitality. We come about a war brewing in the realm of Light and seek your assistance.”

“A war?” Madame Miriam, mouth agape.

Imtura jumps in. “And it will come for you if we can’t stop it.”

“Ha. War does not concern us,” Baron Claudius scoffs. “We have seen many wars over the millennia and outlasted them all.”

Aerin tries not to shiver as he speaks, but the underground chill winds its way through his tunic. “This war is different. The Old Gods come for the Realm, and they shall spare none.”

The Baron stares at him, eyes narrow, before turning back to his companions for another round of wordless conversation. Aerin barely has a moment to wonder if they’re in each other’s minds when there is a hum, right in the center of forehead, and then a soft whir of static stretching to his temples. 

‘No.’

He purposely clears his mind, surveying each of the vhampyrs in turn, the frown of the Baron, the smirk of Madame Miriam’s rouged lips, the forceful eyes of Lady Lilith.

‘Begone!’

With a sigh, the static recedes. He tries to catch the eye of one of his companions, to see if they had felt the same, when Madame Miriam speaks.

“We could… we could discuss the matter over our evening meal.”

“Splendid,” the Baron nods, but his smile stays contained to his lips. “Come.”

With only a worried glance between each other, Aein, Nia, and Imtura make their way further into the crypts.

Aerin wonders if he should have turned around then, should have fled, given up on the vhampyr allies and ran, like a coward. 

He has plenty of experience in that, after all.

No. Not anymore. Not now, he wouldn’t have. He remembers his last conversation with Raine, the earnestness on her face, her hands sure and soft in his.

Even knowing his fate rests within these damp walls, he would do it all over again.

~~~~~

On the third day, Lady Lilith brings him a tray of food in person.

The blanket is still wrapped around his legs, accomplishing nothing against the frigid underground floor, but he scrambles up as soon as he sees her.

“Lady Lilith, hello.” He bows his head. “To what do I owe this visit?”

“I come with your breakfast.”

“Thank you.” He doesn’t need to lift the lid to know it is the fat and muscle of some unfortunate animal. Raw. The smell is familiar enough by now. “I would offer you a seat but, as you see, I have no chair.”

“I prefer the floor.” She gracefully lowers to the ground, knees tucked primly beneath her, and studies him under eyelashes that are tinged with white. “You know, we do get some word of human events.”

“Truly?” he asks, placing the platter down before joining her on the ground. 

“Yes. We know a bit of the outside world, but had no idea the emissaries of Light would dare come see us.” Lady Lilith looks about him, almost bored, but there is an edge to her voice that sets Aerin nerves aflame.

“And what do you hear from outside?”

“Snippets. Stories of those who live in the Light Realm.” She waves her hand, dismissive, unaffected. “The Elves have magic, the Orcan do not. And there are humans, like you.” Her violet eyes darken as they glare at him. “They serve a King. A Valleros King.” 

Aerin freezes, breath shallow. “Oh?”

“You did say…” She leans forward so they are at eye level; he can see her pupils narrow in the center of her violet irises. “You did say your name was Aerin, correct?”

He doesn’t answer until her hand drapes over his shoulder, and those gray talons dig into his skin. “Yes.”

“Aerin Valleros.”

“Yes.”

She straightens with triumph in her eyes. “So we have a Little Prince, do we not?”

“You’ve heard of me? I’m flattered.” He’s sure his smirk wavers, and it takes every focus to steady it.

“Why does a Prince follow the Commander? Is that how it works in the human world?”

He takes too long to answer, and soon, the buzzing is back. Little Prince?

“Don’t call me that.”

Why not?

A memory resurfaces, Itty Bitty Prince, and he shoves it down, away, away. “So the two princes and the mercenaries awoke, and the drakna had recaptured them.”

This again?

“They all awoke inside the drakna nest, a vile place, these gross cocoons suspended over the forest floor. Just a mass of goo so thick the sunlight cannot penetrate.”

I don’t like sunlight anyway.

“I’m aware, but humans live in sunlight; we need it to see. So our mercenaries and princes were all trapped in this vile goo cocoon, and the hero rescued them.”

Wait, who is the hero?

“One of the mercenaries, please keep up.”

Ah, of course.

“She used her sword and arrows to free her friends and the princes and, while they all were rescued, they actually killed the drakna queen, the biggest and baddest of the monsters. But there was still trouble afoot.”

Does this story ever end?

“The princes were actually evil.”

Oooh, a twist. I like it.

“Yes, but the mercenaries didn’t know that. The princes are hiding their evil nature, one better than the other.”

Are they really evil? Or do people just think that they are evil because they don’t understand?

Aerin stops and stares at her, watching the violet in her eyes dim. He knows he’s out of practice dealing with emotions, but he is clever, quick-witted, and, after years of deception, he understands people. There’s something here. “Lady Lilith, will you speak with me? In person?” The static recedes.

“Aren’t you going to tell the rest of the story?” she asks aloud.

“I don’t think you’re evil. You know that, right? And neither does the Commander. If we did, we wouldn’t have come here. We wouldn’t want to be allies.”

Lady Lilith studies him for so long that he starts to fear he read her wrong. But then she leaps to her feet, her shroud swirling about her like a ghostly mist. “I will…” She opens the door and fixes him with an inscrutable glance. “I will speak with you tomorrow.”

~~~~~

And on that day, he’s starving.

“You know we don’t really eat this food, right?”

There is a pause in his brain. What do you mean?

“Humans need different food than you. We don’t drink-” He eyes the copper pitcher at his side dubiously. “-blood.”

There is a longer pause. You don’t?

“Do you remember being alive? Being mortal?”

Vaguely. It was so long ago.

“Well, when you were, I assure you, unless you were a mosquito, you did not drink blood.”

It’s been so, so long.

“You must have seen a lot of change.” Aerin wonders what it’s like to watch time flow past you while you yourself remain still. Probably like watching Whitetower from a prison window, he supposes, or watching the walls of an underground crypt. Time passes somehow while you yourself don’t move.

It’s hard to keep track of, sometimes. I guess we forget how to care for a human.

“You should have started with a dog.”

She chuckles and the static blooms in his mind before trailing away and Aerin is, once again, alone with his thoughts.

He waits, watching the door, and when she doesn’t return after an interminable time, he peeks at the food under the platter. As he guessed, inedible raw meat of indeterminate origin. However, he’s out of options. 

Snatching a torch from the wall, he does his best. Tilting the platter lets him rotate the meal without touching it and, though it burns his fingers a few times, eventually he can make enough of a char that at least it isn’t raw.

His own warnings about the vhampyr food echo as he takes his first bite. And then his second. And then he is losing count, for the bites that follow consist of him ingesting the food as fast as he can.

His stomach roils as he finally empties the platter and, while his vision is a little wonky, he feels decent - well, as decent as one can be when trapped in a crypt full of vhampyrs. So he supposes that’s something.

~~~~~

Worse than the hunger is the solitude. It's tedious, pacing the four walls of his cell, one direction and then the other to break up the monotony. And it's also terribly lonely. Ever since he rejoined Raine and her party, he had thought - hoped - that the heartache that followed him since birth might be healing, every jovial conversation and gentle caress sewing up a deep pain like mending a rip in fabric.

Unfortunately, it's easier to be alone when it's all you know; now that he's known friendship, love, well, this loneliness is excruciating.

On day five, Lady Lilith finally returns with some water. 

“Oh, hello, Lady Lilith. You’re awake.” He clambers up and bows; time seems to flow differently within the four walls of his cell. Wasn’t it the middle of the day? “How can you spend your time speaking with me? Don’t you need to feed?”

Her laugh is bitter, older than time itself, and it sends a shiver down his spine. “I have servants to hunt for me. Here. Drink.”

He looks into the pitcher, eyebrow raised. There is a fir sprig floating at the top, and three shiny pebbles glint at the bottom. “Thank you.”

“It’s from the river in the woods. Far from Necropolis. It should be safe.”

He takes a tentative sip, and then another, and soon he is gulping his way through the entire pitcher. “It’s perfect. Hint of pine.”

“I can get more. Tomorrow. The sun will be up soon.”

“It will?” Without a window, time is meaningless.

She sits across from him, gnawing her lower lip where a smear of red appears to be drying. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Are you one of the princes?”

“Who? … oh, from the story.” He pauses. “I’m flattered that you’re actually invested in my tale.”

“Well?”

He checks his mind and, thankfully, he is alone; it’s much harder to deceive someone who can hear your thoughts.. “I am a prince but, Lady Lilith, it’s just a story.”

She frowns, as if his answer is unsatisfactory. “And how does it end, Little Prince?”

“Please stop calling me-”

“How does it end?”

“I… I’m not sure.” He knows how parts of the story end, of course, the defeat of the Dreadlord and the Ashen Empress, and the rise of Nifara. But the entire story? “I guess we will have to see when I get to the conclusion.”

“I like happy endings.”

“... I would not have guessed that.”

She giggles, hand over her lips, and only the pale skin and purple eyes give away the fact that she is not a normal child. “Who doesn’t like a happy ending? Will this story have a happy ending? Please?”

Aerin looks around the room, the windowless walls, the coffin as the sole piece of furniture, the fact that he hasn’t seen the sun in a week, and the only answer he can provide is “I’m not sure.”

~~~~~

“Please, be seated.”

The table is adorned with a tablecloth of deep red, a couple servants smoothing the edges while another carts pitchers to the table. Four serving platters sit covered, the closest just inches away from the ivory plate and crystal wine glass placed in front of him.

It smells of decay.

Imtura sits to his right, muscles tense and ready, while Nia’s face is only calm and curious. He sometimes envies her inner strength, her fortitude under challenging conditions, and never more so than now, as six unnaturally colored eyes follow his every move.

When the servants lift the platters’ covers with a flourish, Aerin can only stare in horror at what emerges underneath, more innards than he has ever seen - entrails, one platter stacked with hearts glistening so vividly that he can only imagine they were beating just hours ago, red jellied concoctions dotted with organ meat. Then, servants pour red liquid into his wine glass, and he needs to fight the dry heave as the smell of iron wafts up. Nia turns to him and all he can do is shake his head, subtly; they cannot and should not consume this.

“Thank you for your hospitality, but I regret that we cannot partake of your generosity this evening,” he says, swallowing down the bile, “Unfortunately we cannot eat a single-”

“Why?” Lady Lilith looks at him, tilting her head. “I assure you, these are from animals. No… humans were harmed in the making of this meal. You are a human, yes?” The last question is a purr, and all of Aerin’s hackles rise.

“I am. And we eat our meat-”

“If these delicacies were created from people, would you eat them?” Madame Miriam asks, and he could almost believe in her naivete had her eyes not been gleaming like the ruby at her throat.

His stomach turns. “Unfortunately, I would rather spend our time discussing the great threat to our Realm. The Commander of the Armies of Light is gathering allies-”

“And where is this Commander of yours?” Lady Lilith lifts her fork, sharp points of her fingernails gleaming like a knife edge, and, too swiftly for his eyes to catch, stabs it into the center of a heart, plucking it triumphantly from the platter. “Could they not come to beg for assistance themselves?”

Imtura crosses her arms over her chest. “Unfortunately, she’s busy at the moment.”

“But we are her trusted emissaries and I assure you that any agreement we make will be-” Aerin jumps in, but it’s too late.

“We would prefer to discuss the matter with your Commander.” Baron Claudius interjects around a mouthful of liquid. Aerin is watching a drop of red pool at the corner of his lips, just beginning to descend down his graying chin when he feels it - again - the buzz in his mind.

Quickly, he surveys the table; the Baron still swigs his blood, Madame Miriam is cutting a piece of jellied carcass, but Lady Lilith, the young one, is staring at him as if she were trying to drill through his skull.

He imagines that she is.

‘Begone from my mind.’

He realizes in shock that he has found the leader of the fang line, in the guise of a small slender child.

Her voice is a hiss in his head. ‘You’re clever, Little Human.’ It’s nauseating, the familiarity of another’s voice in his brain, another’s whispers he can’t drown out; this time, there is no stone to rip from his chest to end the hushed tone rattling his brain.

‘Begone,’ he grinds back. ‘Leave my head.’ When the static doesn’t abate, he fills his head with song, as loudly as he can without moving his lips. Just when Gartho is about to abscond with the queen’s buttons and hood, it’s gone. The roar leaves his head, and he is left with blessed silence.

“Do you really think we should get involved in the affairs of mortals?” Madame Miriam is asking once his attention returns to the table.

The Baron opens his mouth to reply, but Lady Lilith beats him to it, standing with a clatter. “We may, but only if we can speak to this Commander herself.”

The other two vhampyrs stand, and Aerin is wise enough to know they are being dismissed, so he stands as well, Nia and Imtura following.

“We will relay this information and return post haste. I am sure that -”

“Not all of you will.” Lady Lilith’s mouth opens into a smile that showcases her shiny, deadly teeth; Aerin averts his eyes. “One of you will stay. To ensure she will come.”

“Excuse me? No one is staying.” Imtura takes a step forward, as if to go through the table, but Aerin stops her with a hand on her bicep. 

Lady Lilith’s eyes flash molten violet, and she says, “I want an assurance that your Commander will visit us in person. Either two of you leave or none of you do.” 

Aerin has made many misjudgments in his life, far too many to count, but he’s sure that this could play out one of two ways. In one scenario, he, Nia, and Imtura die. And in the other? “Fine,” he replies, directly to Lady Lilith and her fanged smile.

“Aerin, what do you-?”

“Nia, it’s fine.”

Lady Lilith’s smile grows wider, and she claps her hands together in murderous glee. “Excellent. It’s decided. The human boy will stay.”

“No.” Imtura moves as if to reach for her axes, and his fingers tighten.

“Imtura, stop.”

“Have you lost it, landrat?”

“It’s fine.” He grinds out, dropping his voice to a whisper. “They could kill us all before you manage to pull one ax, I assure you.”

“We can’t leave you here, Raine will-”

“Raine will come. We will have our detente. It will be fine.” He holds her gaze, just long enough that she softens, and then he drops her arm with a sigh. Turning to the vhampyrs, he speaks louder. “And you assure me that they will have safe passage out of the city?”

“Surely. We’d never go back on our word.” Lady Lilith’s smirk does not give him confidence, but none of this plan gives him any kind of surety.

He steps forward with one last glance to Nia and Imtura, hoping they can read his plea to flee. And then, turning to the vhampyr leader, he nods. “I will stay.”

“Splendid. Follow me. I will show you to your quarters.”

He doesn’t watch Nia and Imtura leave - he can’t. Unfortunately, he lacks the bravery to watch them go silently, to not call out to them and beg them to wait, so he doesn’t even turn. He only follows Lady Lilith’s careful footsteps down more steps than he can count, mind-boggling pathways carved of the earth and inhabited for thousands of years. Just when he is sure he’s seen these particular cobblestones previously on their trek, she stops, pointing to a doorway.

“And this is where you will stay.”

Aerin’s eyes widen as he takes in the room. He’s definitely stayed in worse accommodations, but, with the past year at his back, his hackles rise at yet another prison cell. His fingers tremble, and his breath hitches shortly, hints of gray at the edges of his vision, before he can return to himself. Vaguely, so long ago it may have been another life, he remembers telling Raine to take a deep breath, right when the current of pain threatened to tear her away, and he is grateful for the reminder even as he stores it as far out of reach as possible. He inhales, slowly, and glances around.

There is one large room, windowless like all the others, and the three torches are too few to provide much light in the chilly chamber. To the right is a small door, almost certainly leading to a washroom or lavatory, but his gaze is transfixed by the deep mahogany at the center of the room.

“Is that… is that meant to be my bed?”

“Yes?” Lady Lilith eyes him, and he tries to stifle his discontent. “Is something wrong?”

“It’s just… humans don’t sleep in coffins.”

“Then what do you sleep in?”

“Beds?”

She narrows her eyes, pondering. “You know, I vaguely remember beds.”

“Do you? Because this is not exactly…”

“It will need to do.” Her voice sounds curt, eyes assessing. “If your Commander is all you claim, you won’t be here for long.”

“She is all I claim and more.”

“Well, then.” 

She turns to leave, but Aerin stops her with one more question. “Am I truly to remain stuck in this room?”

“It’s safer for you if you do.” She yanks open the door, forcefully, and Aerin is struck, but the incongruity of her slight frame and the fearsome strength it holds. “But this lock here will make sure of it.”

The door closes with a slam, and his shoulders droop. He should be used to prisons. He’s been in his fair share recently. 

But none so unnervingly creepy.

When his eyes fly open, his mind is ablaze in static and he sits up in a panic, shockingly thrown awake in a mere instant. “I can sing you the ballad - it’s a good one. How Gartho Swindled the Elven Queen.”

No need.

“Did you know that the mercenaries helped at the Battle of Whitetower?” His stomach aches, an empty yawning sensation that makes it hard to focus on his words.

Do you dream often?

“Never. I never do.”

Don’t lie to me, Little Prince.

He squints his eyes, trying to fight back the buzz in his mind. “Perhaps I prefer to keep my dreams to myself.”

Why? That was a boring dream. And I was there for it; I already knew what happened. Do you know why I wanted you to stay?

“Stay here?”

Yes.

He’s not entirely sure he wants to know the answer. “Why?”

Because you fought me. The others, the green one, your pretty friend, they didn’t even know I was there.

“You mean they didn’t know you were in their heads?” So much for his advice.

The green one thinks of her mother. And the pretty one wanted to help us. But you? You fought me. And after so long, I do like a challenge?

“So if I had let you see into my mind, you would have let me go?”

Maybe. Maybe not. It may still have ended up like your dream. Who knows?

After a life lived as a miserable failure, it’s only fitting that his success lead him into a vhampyr’s lair. “Do you dream?”

Lady Lilith hums, and it makes his brain shake. Sometimes. Sometimes I dream of things far past, of people I once cared for. Do you?

I do not, I do not, I do not. Perhaps if he repeats it enough, it will be true.

I can tell you are lying.

“I dream of the mercenaries.” He will never reveal the dreams he revels in, keeps close to his heart. “Where did I leave off in my tale?”

Your stories are tiresome.

“I am tiresome. So the mercenaries were just leaving the forest with the evil princes when they had to part ways.”

Why?

“They were going in separate directions, but one of the evil princes knew they would meet again.”

How?

“Uh… evil ways?” Aerin shrugs, even though she cannot see it, and continues on. “But they do meet again. Later. The mercenaries go on their way to the Elven city, and the princes return home to the palace.”

What is the Elven city like?

“I’ve never been.” He’d always wanted to visit, had read tomes about it at the Archives, but only King Arlan and the Crown Prince had been permitted to visit. “I’ve heard it chiseled into a mountain.”

So there is no daylight. Maybe I could visit.

“Would you like to?”

Yes. There is… much in this world I have not seen.

“Odd, since you’ve been alive for so long.”

Most places do not take kindly to immortal visitors and most people do not visit us. We’ve never had a human visitor before.

“Can’t imagine why,” Aerin mumbles.

We’ve had humans come, a few, but only to request to be turned. Or to hunt us.

“I can imagine that those hunters turned into the hunted.”

She chuckles. Yes, very quickly… and deliciously.

“Did you turn any of them?”

The ones we took a liking to. Sometimes, it doesn’t work and they perish, most painfully.

He shudders. If his current predicament is bad, he can’t imagine worse.

What is it like in the human world?

The question seems honest, curious, and the static doesn’t deepen - she’s not probing his thoughts and memories for information. “It’s not underground, for one. Our buildings are above ground since we can be in the sunlight, and there are towns and cities where many humans live together, much like this.”

Are they all related? Like us?

“Not everyone in a city, but families will usually share a home.”

Do you have a home?

His gut twists and his fingers tremble, a curious unsettling shake, so he curves his hands into fists so tight his fingernails dig into flesh. “I did. Once. But now I travel by the Commander’s side, mostly.”

So you are always working.

“It’s not always work. We share meals, for example, share stories. Campfires and adventures and… other things.” Aerin needs to screw his eyes shut to hide the tears welling just behind his eyelids. Thinking about Raine hurts.

You are very loyal to your Commander.

“I wasn’t always.” It might be a mistake to divulge, but his situation can’t get much worse. “We went through a lot of struggles to get to where we are.”

Why? Is… Is your Commander mean?

“What? No! The struggles were mine and mine alone.” He swallows hard. “The Commander is… incredible. You will see when you meet her.”

Do you still think she is coming?

He doesn’t answer the question. In his heart, he knows that she would never leave any of them behind. But in his mind, well, he can see the danger of bringing the entire party to Necropolis and, if she had to lose a member of her party, unfortunately, the non-magical weakling betrayer would be the most logical choice, regardless of whatever undefined attachment existed between them. 

Lady Lilith continues. Or do you think she will leave you to be locked away with the vhampyrs, never to be freed?

He doesn’t answer that question either, but shoots back one of his own. “If she does come, what will you do when she arrives?”

Lady Lilith doesn’t reply.

~~~~~

It starts slowly. 

His mind starts to play tricks on him, a flash of light where none exists, a phantom touch when he’s alone. He opens his eyes to see Raine, standing in a corner looking downcast; when he leaps up to greet her, she disappears, his hands wrapping around cold air.

He could almost brush it off as a symptom of imprisonment when the cough begins, settling in his chest as a heavy weight.

His voice cracks in the middle of the tale. He’s just recounting how the mercenaries are gathering troops to fight the Ashen Empress when Lady Lilith interjects.

Do you need water?

“From the river? Sure, thank you.”

When Lady Lilith returns, he’s overheating despite the chill, traces of sweat beginning at his hairline, slipping down his face.

“Are you alright?”

“Of course.” He wipes his brow. “Now where was I?”

“The evil Ashen Empress. Was she evil like the princes?”

“I…” It takes him far longer than he’d like to answer this question. “No. The princes were different. The Empress wanted to kill everyone.”

“Sometimes those that the world thinks are murderers are actually something different.”

His head begins to throb. “Lady Lilith, are you speaking in riddles?”

“No, continue, continue. So the mercenaries prepare for war.”

“Yes. So they all get ready, very exciting. Even the bard is there.”

“Who?”

“The hero’s brother. He tells stories, sings tales of old.”

“Like you?”

“This isn’t a tale of old! This was about the Battle of-”

“I thought it was just a story.” Lady Lilith narrows her eyes.

“Of course it is.” 

“Then, will you ever tell me the ending? How does it end?”

He doesn’t know; he can only pray - not here, not here, please, not here. “I will tell you the end, but-” He’s cut off by a cough. “Do you… do you mind if we continue the story later? I’m not… I forget the words.”

Lady Lilith looks confused, but nods. Aerin doesn’t look up as she leaves, only focusing on a singular point on the stone floor to keep the nausea at bay.

~~~~~

Seven days.

Fourteen meals.

Though he may have lost count.

~~~~~

Ten days.

The world sways, as if his vision were failing or if he were no longer on solid ground, instead tilted at stomach-churning angles.

That morning (or whatever ill-defined time the exhaustion threatens to take him away), he can’t take the chill of the floor any longer, so he grabs the wispy blanket and crawls into the coffin.

The walls are green velvet, soft, and it’s absurdly comfortable.

Dimly, before sleep takes him, he thinks that he might want to stay there forever.

~~~~~

Thirteen days.

The blood in his veins burns. Is it his own?

If they were going to come, wouldn’t they be here by now?

~~~~~

“And then the portals opened, and the battle began.” Aerin tries to move his eyelids, but they only open halfway. He can see the ceiling through the flutter of his lashes, and the sweat pouring off him has soaked the velvet of his coffin. If he could get up, he’s sure he would see a wet imprint of his body in darkened green, but he can’t even imagine moving. 

“Were they all there?”

“Hmmm…. Who?” Aerin’s losing his mind and he’s pretty sure he lost the plot of his own story, but he can see the moon from his cell twirling in frantic circles before his eyes but he’s underground (he thinks, he thinks) so he’s sure he’s seeing things but can he truly be sure of anything anymore? What story was he telling? 

“The mercenaries?”

“Where?”

“At the battle against the Ash Empress!”

“Ah, yes. They were there. They all were. The Hero, the priestess, the Orcan princess, the grumpy mage, the insufferable rogue.”

“Was the bard there?”

He blinks. The walls appear to be dripping blood. “Yes. Why? Is that your favorite character?”

“I appreciate a good storyteller.”

“Ah…” Aerin trails off as his vision is almost entirely red. “Well, I do… I do apologize that I am not…” And then there is only darkness.

~~~~~

It’s dark. 

It’s always so dark.

~~~~~

“Wake up, wake up, wake up, Little Prince!”

It’s painful to open his eyes. His head hammers in pain, almost overpowering Lady Lilith’s words, but he can hear the years in her voice over his headache. “What?”

“You need to stay awake, Little Prince.”

He is exhausted, so bone-weary that the strength to hold her gaze is painful. “I want to sleep.”

“No.” There is panic in the word. “No, you mustn’t, you mustn’t.” He nods, but his eyes slide shut. “No! Please. Tell me… tell me about the story.”

“What about it?” he murmurs.

“It’s always been real, hasn’t it?”

His lips are so dry that he tastes blood every time he licks his lips. “What has?”

“The story. The mercenaries.”

“Of course… mostly.” Even his bones are tired, but he doesn’t need to defend himself from the outside voices in his brain anymore. His mind is empty.

“Little Prince.” Lady Lilith grabs his shoulders and shakes; he winces. “Sorry. Tell me the story again.”

“Which one?”

“Any one.” His eyes flutter shut, and she rubs his shoulder, gentler this time. “Aerin!”

“The Heroes went into the forest and defeated the monsters and saved the princes. And they all fought a God of Old. It was real.” 

“You were there.”

“Yes, we all were.” The cold has seeped into his brain, and every inhale audibly cracks his ribs.

“Your companions? The travelers we dined with? They were there?” He can only nod. “And who is your green friend?”

“The tough one.”

“And the pretty human?”

“The kind one.”

“And which character are you?”

There are spots in Aerin’s visions, dark masses that sway about the periphery. “The one who either leaves…” He breaks off with a cough so deep it feels like it’s scarring his lung with every forceful exhale. “Or gets left behind.” And then the black spots enlarge and swallow him whole.

~~~~~ 

There’s sunlight. Aerin looks around him in awe. There’s sunlight!

He takes a deep breath of the fresh forest air, looking around in utter delight. The canopy of trees about his head is sparse, allowing ample daylight to filter through, and the harmonies of song and merriment carry down a dirt path. 

As he steps forward, he realizes in an instant where he is. These are the woods outside Riverbend and, as he turns the corner nearing the temple, he stops short at the figure waiting for him, lounging on a boulder.

“Raine!” He jogs forward, smiling growing wider with every step, until he slows when he is mere feet from her. As she stands, there is fury painting her flawless features. “Raine, what’s wrong?”

Her voice drips venom. “You lied to me.”

“What?” He wracks his brain for deception and nothing comes. “I… no, no longer. What do you mean?”

“You said you would come back.”

“I… I am here now.” He’s not quite sure what she’s referring to, but he’s standing right before her, in the flesh. “I am here. I will always be here.”

“That is not true, Aerin. That is what you do. You leave.”

“But I -”

“You leave me.”

“No.” He shakes his head frantically. “No, I never wish to be parted from you, you know that. I would never, never again.” His legs carry him forward to embrace her, but she only steps away, tears brimming in her eyes.

“You promised.” A sudden wind whips through the wood as she turns away, leaden steps taking her further from him. “Aerin,” she calls over her shoulder, “you promised.”

“Wait.” He wraps his arm around his torso; the wind turns frigid, so cold, always so cold, and she crests over a hill and out of side. “Wait!” His useless feet won’t move and the chill settles in his bones. Is this his destiny? Doomed to be separated from the one person whom his heart beats for?

The chattering of his teeth awakens him.

When Aerin opens his eyes, Lady Lilith stands above him, worry lines etched in the pale skin of her forehead.

“That’s not concerning.” A cough cuts him off, and he waits until his lungs stop rattling to speak. “Not concerning at all, waking up to a vhampyr staring at you.”

“I would change you.” She whispers, urgently. “If I had to, I would.”

“No.” More coughing. “No.” His mind flashes to a millennium without sunlight, missing the golden rays of sunshine peeking over the Cartesian Sea, the bustle of the Whitetower marketplace, the sun gleaming off Raine’s hair, her smile as they hike through woods bathed in the afternoon warmth. “Don’t change me.”

Lady Lilith blinks back tears, though a few break free to edge over her cheekbone. They glisten in the torchlight, like dew at breaking dawn, a sight he shall never see again.

His own eyes start to sting, sweat trailing down his face, and there’s salt on his tongue. Lady Lilith grabs his hand, clutching it carefully in her corded strength, holding tight until the darkness welcomes him again.

~~~~~

Days fifteen, sixteen, and seventeen don’t count.

He doesn’t wake up for them.

~~~~~

He can hear the voice above him, and it could be a dream; it must be a dream. 

His mind is his own, but it’s playing tricks on him, assuredly, because it sounds like Raine is standing right above his head.

He’s flying, the room spinning in circles about him, and if he looks at the walls about him, they blur as if he turning around and around, faster and faster, and there is a light, somewhere, from outside, or maybe inside his skull, and he is dying, he is dead; he has been reborn, and he cannot breathe. 

He rolls over and vomits.

As he’s wiping bile from his lips, the door opens and Lady Lilith storms in. “Let’s get you up, Little Prince.”

“Please stop calling me that.” He wipes his lips on his sleeve and his teeth chatter against the fabric. It’s so cold.

“You need to get up. We have guests.”

“What- who-”

With superhuman strength, she jostles him until, while he may be on two feet, he is mostly leaning on her, draped over a small shoulder as he takes one stuttering step after another. They travel through the crypts, torchlight causing shadows to jump across the walls, making him nauseous anew, but finally, they reach a wooden door.

Even though it’s latched tight, he can hear voices on the other side. Loud. Unyielding. “I demand my diplomat.”

Aerin raises his head. “Raine? Is it really-”

The static invades his skull again. Who is she?

“Stop, please stop!” He tries to sing Gartho the Trickster but he can’t focus; his temples throb and besides, all that matters is that Raine is on the other side of this damnable door. 

Who is she?

“She’s the Hero.”

Who?

“The Hero of Morella, Commander of the all the Forces of Light, Savior of the Reams and Champion to All, please just-”

Lady Lilith shifts him so she can peer into his face. She speaks now, out of his head, her voice a whisper in the hall. “Is she the same hero from the mercenary tale? With the princes?”

“Yes.” Aerin is too weak to lie; he can’t even raise his hands to wipe the moisture pooling in his eyes. “Please, just- I just need to see her.”

The vhampyr leader is silent for far too long before she lowers him to the ground, crouching in the dirt beside him. “Aerin.” Her palm graces his cheek and it’s cold, so cold, and the shivering hurts his teeth. “How does the story end?”

And he doesn’t think, just replies, too weak to manufacture any artifice. The story ends the only way possible, the only way it can truly end, and, when he trails off into silence, her violet eyes glisten with unshed tears.

Finally, she stands and speaks. “Wait here.” With that command, she strides through the doorway and he hears the dull sound of a latch locking.

Aerin could almost cry, in an inglorious heap, with one measly door between him and Raine. He crawls forward over the rough earth, stones digging into his fingertips and leaving bloody droplets in the dirt. When he makes it to the door, he lifts his hands to bang against the wood but his fists barely make a sound; he is so weak, so tired, and the grains of the wooden boards are swirling before his eyes. He can’t even yell, voice a mere croak, and he slides in defeat down to the floor.

He has failed, he realizes. He was not able to broker an accord, was not even able to get any kind of agreement, and he wasn’t able to protect Raine.

And then the ground rushes up to meet his face and there is only silence.

~~~~~

He’s in the air, he’s flying, he’s falling.

There’s yelling, but it’s not him; his mouth feels like it has been stuffed with gauze, and his eyes only open wide enough for his lashes to flutter tremulously in his vision but he’s on his feet, somehow.

There’s the unsheathing of a sword.

More yelling.

The sheathing of a sword.

A flash of yellow and gold in front of him, steady arms holding him up as his boots struggle and fail to find purchase on the floor.

Safety.

“I’m sorry,” he says the words into the armor mushed into his cheek, but he’s not sure anyone can hear him. His throat is so raw, he can barely hear himself. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. For all of it.”

More yelling.

Static and buzzing, traveling from his forehead to his ears, just a roar frying his brain cells, and he can’t even fight it as he passes out again.

He awakens again to a flash of green, and he’s soaring through the air anew; while there is less screaming, he’s numb and cannot feel a thing. The world spins and that’s when his brain shuts down.

~~~~~

When he awakens, actually awakens, he is in a plush bed, and light streams into the room. It’s been so long since he has seen the sun that he only gapes at the golden rays streaming through the window. The room is warm, especially under plush covers, and it’s been so long since he’s seen sunlight and felt warmth on his skin that he props up on one wavering elbow and stares for minutes until he realizes, with a start, that he’s in Raine’s palace room.

“Good morning.”

He starts again at a voice to his left and, though it aches, he turns to see Raine perched on a chair, staring at him and gnawing on her bottom lip. He means to say hello, truly he does, but all that emerges from his mouth is “Oww.”

“Are you ok?” She’s at his side in an instant.

“I love you.” It’s raspy but audible, and he sighs as he sinks back into the plush mattress.

“That… is not an answer to my question.”

“I know, but I spent the last few weeks wondering if I could ever say it again, so I didn’t want to miss my moment.”

She shakes her head fondly and threads a hand through his curls before carefully sliding onto the bed next to him. “I love you, too.”

“I had a feeling,” he replies; she chuffs his shoulder and, for the first time in weeks, he feels like he can relax. “I told you I would come back.”

“Do not- Do not joke about that. Do you know what state we found you in?”

 “A state befitting of my heroic deeds?”

“I thought you were going to die!” The arm that has wound its way around his waist squeezes tighter. “Don’t scare me like that.”

“Eh, I was fine. I will be fine. Just a few more minutes, and I will be right as rain.” His eyes flutter shut, only to fly open again. “Did they agree?”

“Who?”

“Lady Lilith. Did she - did she agree to have the vhampyrs join us?”

“She did…” Raine’s words are careful, slow. “We had quite the discussion while you were close to death.”

“Sounds enlightening; my apologies for missing it. What did she say?”

“She said you taught her a lot about humans.”

“Hmmm… like that we don’t drink blood?”

“Among other things. She said that if you personally go to inform them of the battle, their forces will join.”

“Couldn’t someone else go? Mal? He would love the trip, I’m sure.”

“She specifically requested you. She seemed to like you.”

He quirks a shoulder. “I didn’t know what to expect of the vhampyrs. They seemed… lonely.”

“She said you told her stories.”

“I did.” He chuckles at that. “She kept trying to read my mind. And you know how I like my secrets.”

“She said you told of the mercenaries of Lord Kelvin Gillbottle.” A sad smile plays on her lips. “Aerin? Did you truly believe I would leave you?”

“What do you mean? No! Not really. “

“What do you mean, not really?”

“I guess - the longer it was there, the harder it was to tell the difference between what was real and what was not. But I knew, in my heart, I knew you would come for me.”

“Then… why is that not the story you told her?”

“What are you talking about?”

“She said that, every night, you would tell her the story of us meeting in the Deadwood. And that, in every telling, the mercenaries realized the princes were evil and tortured them. Killed one in cold blood. And I locked the other away with the vhampyrs, never to be freed, as revenge for his disloyalty.”

He blinks. “That’s not how I said the story ended.” He tries to sit up, but it is futile until Raine slides her arm around him, a line of solid strength and care propping him up.

“That’s what she told me.”

“That trickster… Raine, that’s not the ending I made up.”

Her eyes, large and bright in sunshine, bore into his. “Then how did you end the tale?”

“I said…” He breaks off with another cough and she hands him a waterskin; the liquid is mercifully cool on his throat. “I said that the mercenaries met two evil princes in the forest.”

“Aerin, that’s not…”

“Shhh, it’s my story. I said that the mercenaries met two evil princes in the forest. One died.” Raine’s face softens at this, but she doesn’t interrupt, so he continues. “The other realized the error of his ways. He- he fell in love with one of the mercenaries, the hero, and stayed by her side, forever, until the end of time.”

She bites her lip, eyes welling with unshed tears, and, just as Aerin moves to apologize, she nods. “Yes. That is exactly how the story ends.”

[chaoticallyfragmentary]

Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader

This is a bit of childhood friends to lovers, lots of pining and just Kuroo being a dork and Kenma, a sneaky little shit. Includes some fluff and initial hurt to comfort. 

You freeze, teetering between steps when Tetsu—Kuroo accosts you at your door. You are tired, a bone deep exhaustion clinging to your bones, a little aching and caught off guard by his presence. He sniffles, nose pink from the biting cold or from his tears, the quiet ones that he’s crying.

You withhold a sigh, a scream for help because it is Kuroo, the boy who put band aids on your knees and held your hand through the first day of school, because snow clings to his hair, a snowstorm incoming and he is here, at your doorstep with tear tracks on his cheeks and fury in his eyes, earbuds dangling uselessly from the ipod, where you are sure, he was listening to the playlist you made for him, holding up a letter in your writing, long since opened. 

Shit, you thought you’d be gone by then.

You poured so much of yourself onto those pages, long muffled secrets and wistful sighs, long harbored feelings, a final concession before trying to forget, leaving for good.

“Hi love,” he says and you are ten again, a bit broken and battered, moving halfway across the world with your grandparents, an outstretched hand of a boy your age, both of you crying as he chased your bullies away, lips wobbling as he tries so hard to be brave.

“Kuroo?” you clear your throat, suppressing an urge to flee, mouth twisting to a sad shape.

 “Does this mean what I think it means?” he asks, pleads really.

You are seventeen again, listening to Kuroo laugh, a wonky little thing, a bit like a dying goat but you would bottle it up if you could, but then your eyes land on the girl on Kuroo’s arm and something in your chest aches.

“What do you think it means?” you ask instead, a watery laugh bubbling from your throat. 

He smiles, a tiny little thing, reminded of nights like these, when neither of you could sleep, questions were answered with more questions, sneaking into each other’s bedrooms, the pebbles thrown at windows, the chemistry study sessions, the lazy cuddle nights with Kenma, the midnight train rides and the warmth of terrible decisions.

He is fifteen again, realizing that his best friend had gotten pretty. Sixteen, realizing that he wanted to kiss the said best friend, wanting to throw himself off the tallest building he could find. It was as if he’d never had a crush before, Kenma snickering under his breath about how he was so very fucked.

“It’s not my job to say it chibi,” he says and he is twenty two again, eyes looking for you at the party.

“Kuroo!” your yell pierces the air, hands perched on your hips in the most accusatory kind of way as you stare Kuroo down.

“I’ve just been busy chibi, organizer of the party and all that”

“You haven’t looked at me, Kuroo”

Oh, but he has, and you look so beautiful, black gown that hugged all your curves and revealed unknown stretches of skin and he wanted nothing more than to sink his teeth into it. You looked like his, but on Iwaizumi’s arm and fuck it all if he didn’t feel like his heart was a desiccated, dying thing performing the actions of something living.

(Met abroad, studied at the same university, blah blah, bleh. Anyone who tells you he’s been giving Iwaizumi the stink eye throughout the party is nothing but a filthy liar) 

“Do you want to dance chibi?” he asks, one tiny want seeping out from the aching places inside his chest.

Your head tilts a fraction, eyes teetering between cautious hope and blinding joy. You let yourself take his hand and learn, for the span of a single evening, what holding Kuroo Tetsurou in your arms felt like.

You wilt, what option did you have but honesty?

 “I-I-I,” new tears spring from your eyes at your inability to articulate even the barest of words but you plough through. “I love you— I-I d-don’t know since when, o-or for h-how l-l-long. I’ve done a piss poor job of n-not falling for my best friend b-but it’s always been you, me and you, you and me. W-We have always been an ‘us.’ S-Sorry” the confession slips out of your mouth before you can yank it back and shove it down your throat.

“I am so fucking furious, chibi”

He’s breathing heavily, emotion pouring out from him and your throat feels like it might swell shut.

“I’m so sorry but please don’t cry.” You hear the strain in your voice, self control rapidly dwindling as you barely resist the incessant throb behind your ribs, to just reach out and hold him close, wrap him in a blanket burrito, get him some hot chocolate and beat up anyone who dared to make him cry.

“I’d stop if I could,” he snaps, wiping another stray tear, furious at himself for crying.

“You mean to tell me,” he takes in a measured breath, like a man on the verge of starvation, fighting every impulse to reach for a feast in front of him.

“You mean to tell me that all this time the two of us wasted on pining away after each another, we could’ve been making out?” he shouts.

You bluescreen, a blink and a breath.

Once your brain processes the words, you release the deluge, laughter spilling over as your resistance buckles, pulling his bottom lip between your teeth after so many years of fantasizing the same.

When Kenma takes all the money from the bet your friends seem to have made, Kuroo calling him scheming filthy liar, you laugh coasting over Kuroo’s outraged noises about how could Kenma bet against him, how he’d known you would confess first… Kenma winking at you, mouthing fucking finally, as happiness tints your vision golden.

[springdandelixn]

Dancing in the Kitchen

Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Summary: You accidentally reveal your feelings to Steve through a song.

Warnings: nothing really—all fluff

A/N: This idea has been brewing in my head when I first heard this song (you’ll find it below) and I just had to write it. Unbeta so may be a bit sloppy but I hope it’s a goodie.

I no longer hold a tag list but if you wish to be updated with new fics I release, follow my archives blog, @springdandelixn-archives and turn on the notifications.

Drabble as this may be, your feedback would mean so much to me. Reblogs would be great too for it will help my story flourish. And as always, I hope you enjoy! 💙

It was a tough mission and he’s glad he’s home. 

The halls of the compound were dark as Steve drags himself through the halls, helmet in his hand and shoulders slumping in exhaustion. Bucky and Sam had already called it a night after stepping out of the jet, stalking to their quarters, and leaving Steve to wander. 

It was his usual routine, walking around to clear his head despite how late it would be. A peace he’s found himself indulging in just to leave the burden of the mission behind. He was happy though for the mission was indeed a success—more Hydra soldiers caught and thrown behind bars but still, the fatigue overpowered the joy. 

It was silent, just how he liked it, as he made his way to the common room. But the singular light shining in the kitchen and the soft hum of someone singing takes his attention and he stalks towards the room even further. 

And that’s when he sees you. 

Opening and closing cabinets and taking out a bowl before shoving what he spies is a bag of popcorn into the microwave. You don’t seem to notice him so he takes his time in the shadows, a smile on his lips as he admires the carefree aura that you exude. 

He’s not told anyone but Bucky of his feelings for you. How he was immediately smitten when Tony first introduced you as Maria’s replacement in overseeing their activities. He was subtle with his attraction, simply being the gentleman that everyone knew him to be. But as each day that’s turned into months and eventually a year, his infatuation grew even further that he dare even say that he’s come to love you. 

It wasn’t simply because you were beautiful—but you were just as beautiful on the inside. Being more caring than authoritative to the team. Understanding when it came to his best friend and not being forceful when it came to taxing missions. The team thought you to be soft at first, a comment he, Bucky, and Sam, never appreciated. But they’ve come to appreciate it even more especially when they realized that the way you treated them, and took care of them, was what they truly needed.

And he fell even more when you showed such sweetness towards him. When everyone, especially Tony, would make fun of him for his lack of knowledge in the present, you’d be there to defend him, being feisty and telling off Tony and oh how Steve basked in such a sight.

But what he liked, or rather loved best was your calming presence. That at times, you would sit with him and simply be there for him when he’s about to face such intense task and other times join him in his solitude walks, not talking or even asking how the mission went, but rather just enjoying the night or the day and allowing the tension within him to seep out.

You were the serenity after the storm.

“Swear the only one I want is you, and it doesn’t matter what we do,”

His eyes grow wide when you start singing, no longer humming as you moved through the counter. 

“We could fly around the world but we always end up dancing in the kitchen.”

He could feel his heart grow full, the smile on his face growing wide as he watches you dance silly in front of the stove. You take one of the spatulas from the drawers and pretended it to be a mic, your hand at your chest as you belted out the lyrics with such emotions. 

He starts walking forward, placing his helmet quietly on the low table of the common room and making his way to you. He calls your name once but it surprises him that you don’t answer, then he notices the small white bud on your ear and it makes a chuckle leave his lips, his heart feeling full by just watching your bubbly state. 

“I could spend a thousand nights right here inside this room.”

He couldn’t help but agree with the lyrics you sing. That as long as he’s with you, nothing would truly matter and everything would be alright in this gruesome world.

“Tell me, Stevie, if you feel the same way that I do.  Ohh~ swear the only one I want is you.”

Did he hear correctly? Did you mix his name into the song? He blinks his eyes and stands frozen, jaw going slack as he continues to watch you move about the kitchen. 

So many questions flit through his head all at once that he could feel his heart beating hard against his chest. His fingers flex as he asks the same question you unknowingly asked him: Do you feel the same way that I do?

He feels a sudden jolt of courage run through his bones and he finds himself moving, walking towards you. He must know, he must take this chance, for if he doesn’t, if he misses this window of opportunity, he isn’t sure when it will show itself again and he wouldn’t forgive himself if it reached another year or before he gets his answer. 

Crossing the counter, he stands before you, hands taking hold of your hips when you accidentally bump against his chest. Your eyes are wide when you turn but they soften almost immediately when you see him, a sweet smile on your face. 

“Stevie, you scare—”

But your words never make it past your lips as he cups your face and leans down to press his lips against yours. And oh how it was just as he imagined, soft and innocent, sweet and pure and he wills himself to hold back, to move his lips gently and treasure each moment that he’s taking. A smile forms on his lips when he feels you kiss him back, your arms wrapping around his neck and he takes it as a sign to pull you close, to hold you flush against him that he never wants to let go. 

You both eventually part for air but Steve keeps his hold around you, his forehead pressing against yours as he inhales deeply, his nose kissed by your sweet scent and popcorn. 

“What were you listening to?” He asks softly, not wanting to break the bubble that’s formed around the both of you. 

You giggle at his question but don’t respond, instead, pulling off one of your earbuds and placing it snug in his ear before taking your phone out of your pajama pocket and replaying the song. 

“City lights looking like ice underneath the stars. Beautiful but I’d rather be right here where we are.”

Steve sways you with him slowly as the music plays in his ear, taking in the melody and the lyrics. He hums softly to the tune as his hands frame your waist, holding you to him and sighing in content when you rest your cheek against his chest, your hands on his shoulders while both of you slow dance in the kitchen.

It was a tough mission but Steve’s glad he’s finally home.

[bullet-prooflove]

Look After You: Terry Bruno x Mike Duarte x Reader

Tagging: @legit9thlunaticwarrior @witches-unruly-heart @annetje @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @chavez-ashley @kiwiithecrazybird @irishavengersassemble @xoxabs88xox @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @oureternalbond

It’s been a shit day and an even shitter week. Terry can feel the pressure baring down on him as he sits on the couch in his apartment, staring at his reflection on the blank TV screen. He puts his head in his hands, his palms rubbing over his face. He’s exhausted, both physically and emotionally. This case he’s working it just keeps going from bad to worse, every time he closes his eyes, he sees those photographs from the crime scenes playing in his head.

He hears your key in the lock and his heart sinks because right now he has nothing left.

When the two of you come through the door, he sees your faces and he just can’t…

“I need a little bit of space tonight.” He tells both you and Mike.

There’s a flash of hurt across your features, Terry sees it and he hates himself.

“It doesn’t mean I don’t love you.” Terry says quietly, his fingers tangling in his curls as he tugs on them just a little. “I just need…”

He can’t vocalise what he needs, he never can when he gets like this. It’s like the anguish sits like a weight in his chest seeping into his bones.

Mike drops down along side of him as you close the door, he uses his fingertips to tilt Terry’s chin up towards him. He tries to avert his gaze but Mike ducks his head, capturing his stare.

“Oh, pretty boy, you’re suffering, aren’t you?” Mike whispers as his thumb caresses along the line of Terry’s jaw.

“Let us take care of you tonight.” You say as you sit down alongside of him. Mike takes up residence on the opposite side of Terry, his arm coming to rest upon his shoulders. He draws him in close, his lips brushing over his hairline as you pick up the blanket from the arm of the couch and drape it across the three of you. Terry captures your hand, his fingers threading through yours before he guides them to the space where his heart resides in his chest.

“Thank you.” He whispers as you snuggle into his side.  “Both of you, thanks for this.”

Love Terry & Mike? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[self-shipper-snowdrop]

Self Ship Valentines - Day 2

Prompt: “Small displays of affection”

Description: Linhardt isn’t really sure about being the future King of Serentir yet, but what he does know is that he loves his girlfriend, Bronwen, more than enough to navigate the waters of being a royal. Doesn’t make it any less exhausting, though.

“Ugh..... Birdie, how do you handle all of this? Just watching you work through it makes me tired.”

Bronwen couldn’t help but giggle as Linhardt collapsed back on to their shared bed- slowly sinking into the plush blankets and gentle pillows. She shook her head at the statement, taking off her royal cape and her crown and placing them on the stand nearby. She walked over to the bed, sitting beside Linhardt and looking down at him with a gentle look in her eyes.

“I’ve been immersed in it for a long time... and heard much of what the Rose Sage, my ancestor, did to make this place safe for her people. I suppose as someone who carries her blood, I feel it’s my responsibility to carry on her wish.” Bronwen remarked, “I mean- I was in consideration to take the throne anyway, since my brother doesn’t have a crest, but it’s not quite as big a deal in Serentir as it is in the Empire, Alliance or Faerghus. But when my brother left to marry his husband.... well... it was left to me in the end.”

Linhardt rolled on to his side, his forest green hair falling out and sprawling around him. Bronwen always thought he looked angelic like that; especially with how the dying light of the day seeped in through the window panes and delicately lit up his features. She almost didn’t hear him when he spoke for a moment, with how lost she got in his eyes at moments like these.

“Well, I grew up nobility as well, but I never really enjoyed it or wanted to be part of it. The thought of being in politics makes me... wait, Bronwen- are you listening?” Linhardt asked, “You got that look in your eye again.”

Bronwen snapped out of it, face going a bit red. “Sorry Lin- no, I heard.... not liking politics and all. I just get struck by you sometimes. I’m a very lucky woman- especially with you understand how annoying this stuff can be.”

The queen shifted a bit, patting her lap slightly.

“Here, Lin, honey. Have a rest.”

Linhardt sighed a bit, but smiled regardless, laying his head across Bronwen’s lap. He quickly relaxed feelings her hand run through his hair, gentle and repeated, already soothing him near to falling asleep.

“I don’t know why you indulge me so much. You’re the one who needs rest more than I do.” LInhardt remarked with a yawn. “But here you are. Letting me nap on you again.”

Bronwen hummed a bit, “It makes me happy too, just resting with you at the end of the day. If anything, my motivations are a little selfish.”

“Oh? How?”

Bronwen’s gaze was still warm, looking down at her beloved before he started ti drift off.

“It lets me say I love you in a quiet way, even while you sleep.”

[eoieopda]

homecoming | knj

pairing: kim namjoon x reader summary: your husband is out-of-town for two weeks. he may have to keep his hands to himself in the meantime, but that doesn’t mean he can’t tell you what to do with yours. au: lacuna!verse, est. relationship (marriage) type: drabble (smut) wc: 2.8k (yes, i’m still calling this a drabble) rating: 18+ — minors do not have my consent to interact cw: LAJOONA, afab!reader (gender identity not explicitly stated but is referred to as “wife”), phone sex, voice kink ig?, reader is noted to speak in a(n unspecified) regional dialect, namjoon w/ dom undertones??, guided masturbation (v fingering, clit stim), literally so much dirty talk, multiple orgasms + squirting, praise for zest, various pet names because i’m all over the place, a brief appearance by a beloved side character. a/n: so, uhhhh…. here’s some self-indulgent filth for the dash, lmao. this makes sense out of the context of the lacuna series, but i think it’s more fun if you’re familiar with these two 💕 these events take place after the main series (aka present day). a/n 2: reader is referred to (once) by namjoon as “mrs. kim” — it’s a pet name. i’m aware that name changes after marriage aren’t a thing in korean culture.

Kim Namjoon knows home when he hears it.

Even in hushed tones, it rings loud and clear through his AirPods, humming so closely to the source of his wandering thoughts that he can picture himself there. Despite the slight rasp brought on by exhaustion, its intonation follows the same, steep highs and lows he’ll never get enough of. It sounds like a dialect from a city he’s never lived in, but it’s home, nonetheless.

“I thought the point of this retreat was to… retreat,” you tease. “Don’t know how effective that is if you call your distraction, Joonie.”

To be fair, Namjoon wasn’t the one who called you a distraction. He certainly wasn’t the one who decided he’d spend two weeks sequestered in the middle of nowhere, either. That was all Yoongi, top to bottom.

Come to think of it —

“If Yoongi didn’t think to confiscate my phone, that’s a Yoongi problem.” Namjoon shrugs, smiling to himself.

With a muffled grunt, he then leans back against the mattress and stretches his arms overhead. It’s nowhere near as comfortable as the one you’re currently occupying — mostly because you’re there and not here — but it could be worse, he knows. The separation could’ve been indefinite, like it used to be, with you thousands of kilometers and a handful of time zones away.

This round has a definitive deadline.

This, he can tolerate.

Once he settles in, Namjoon lets his eyes drift shut, mostly so he can imagine you curled up next to him. “I think he’s punishing me, honestly,” he huffs. “Dragged me out to the forest without you and put me in lyric jail because he’s sick of all the shit I’ve written about being in love.”

At this, you snort; Namjoon knows without seeing you that you’re rolling your eyes. “And being ridden. You’re getting pretty suggestive in your old age, love.”

Old? 

Damn.

Namjoon opts to leave that bit alone for now. Knowing you, that was the only part of what you just said that was intended to get a rise out of him — but the rest of it gets him thinking. After the fight he put up initially, he may have to concede that Yoongi was right about the strength of your influence. There’s only one image flashing behind Namjoon’s closed lids now.

And he pulls no punches, so he says as much out loud:

“If you knew what you looked like on top of me, you’d write poetry about it, too.”

Namjoon laughs a little when he says it, if only to mitigate some of the tension seeping into his muscles. Each cell in his body is demanding action that he can’t take at a distance. He’s restless in a way he hasn’t been in a long damn time, grabbing handfuls of the comforter below him because he can’t do the same to you.

It doesn’t hit the same.

You’re softer to the touch.

You sense that there’s a reason why he’s gone quiet all of the sudden; he knows you do. In fact, Namjoon suspects that your mind is wandering down that same, useless path. All he hears is your quiet breathing and the faint rustle of sheets while you struggle to get comfortable alone.

Suddenly, Namjoon can’t help himself. He wants the picture painted for him, wants to savor and study it in the few remaining nights that he has to spend in this fucking cabin. Needs to know if you’re in that little sleep set he likes so much — the one with the silky top and those tiny, little shorts that leave nothing to the — 

“What are you wearing?”

Thank fuck for the huskiness of his voice just then for the way it covered how embarrassingly he blurted that question out. It feels juvenile as hell to ask, like he’s texting his first girlfriend from his parents’ phone plan, thinking he’s playing it cool. The bulge growing in his sweatpants over something so minimal feels juvenile, too.

Fuck.

Has he always been so bad at this?

You reply on a breeze, and it’s clear that you’re covering, too — and that you’re messing with him, as usual. “Why? Worried I’ll catch a chill?”

“So, not much, then?” He counters, eyebrow twitching reflexively. 

When you respond, the smirk is evident in your tone. “I wouldn’t go that far. Your shirt is pretty big on me.”

Goddamn.

Namjoon’s first thought is that he’d like to retract his previous statement. Those little pajamas of yours can fuck right off; your current state is the one he likes best. This is what fucks him up the most: picturing his wife draped in his clothes, leaving them smelling like vanilla and honey.

His second thought is to wonder whether or not you hear him sigh when his hand drifts from his side to the cock throbbing in his sweatpants. Palming himself through the fabric, he decides immediately that your hand feels better, even though it’s smaller.

“Theft is a crime, Mrs. Kim.”

It comes out the tiniest bit strained, but Namjoon doesn’t care. He’s doing his best, isn’t he?

“Be careful what you admit to.”

“Then I’ll just admit to missing you, Mr. Kim.”

His grip on himself tightens literally but by no means figuratively. Holding back a groan, Namjoon eggs you on. “Prove it, then. I want to hear how much you do.”

If he wasn’t listening intently for any sign of his impact on you, Namjoon might not have noticed the way you cursed under your breath just then. He didn’t, though. He heard that perfect little slip-up, and he needs to hear it again — that, and any other sounds he can pull from you. It’s only been a week since he last heard them in-person; he doesn’t know how he’s managed to go even that long.

“Tell me how,” comes your little plea on an exhale. He lets a second pass in silence, building tension so you’ll ultimately resort to begging.

In the end, you do.

“Please, Joonie.”

Goddamn.

There are a million reasons why you’re thankful for Kim Namjoon, but for now, the one at the forefront of your mind is his innate ability to stay one step ahead of you.

When your phone rang earlier, you didn’t have to reach for it; it was in your hand already, and you were trying to talk yourself out of bothering him. You’d kept to yourself since he left for that reason: the fear that you’d throw a wrench in his creative process, or that you’d wind up haunting his voicemail like some bored, lonely, ever-horny specter.

He beat you to it.

Later, when you were halfway into your conversation — him filling you in on his surroundings and works in progress — you struggled to focus on what he said because of how he said it. Voice almost rough from how little he’s used it in the past few days, hushed in order to complain about the friend on the other side of the wall. You’d closed your eyes and could almost feel him murmuring directly in your ear the way he would be, if he were laying next to you.

The hand not holding your phone to your ear kept migrating with every — distinctly non-sexual — word he gifted you, drifting down the length of his t-shirt and coming to a stop at the waistband of your underwear. You didn’t go any further, no matter how badly you needed to. In fact, you tried your best to concentrate; to listen past his tone and hear him.

You froze when Namjoon asked after your outfit, as if he’d caught you out somehow. For a minute, you wondered if he could hear the cotton through the phone and sense that you’d nicked it from him shortly after he left. Then, it dawned on you.

His thoughts had already raced off where yours were heading. He needed a visual while he waited for you to catch up; and when you took too long, he decided to get you there himself.

“Please, Joonie,” you beg, refusing to move your hand any lower until you’re given the green light.

If you can bring yourself to be honest about it, part of the reason you hesitate is that you’ve gotten worse at this. Although there was a long stretch of time where you were all you had, those days are long gone now. These days, you’re spoiled rotten. You don’t have to do this yourself. 

What if you can’t now?

Namjoon simpers in the way he always does when his ego’s been boosted. The way that drives you insane, every time. “You shouldn’t be wondering if I can make you cum from this far away,” he tuts.

Caught out once again, you swallow hard.

“Ask yourself how many times.”

A needy, little whimper slips out of your lips before you can bite them. 

It’s a bit embarrassing how desperate you’ve gotten in such little time apart, but really, who could blame you? Who could have this menace on the other side of the line and hold out longer? His voice alone has you halfway to gone already.

There’s a slight shift on his end that sends your thoughts spiraling again. Squeezing your eyes shut tighter, you listen for the small change in his breathing to confirm that he needs to mimic your touch, too.

“Slip your hand down between your thighs,” he instructs in a low tone. “Tell me how it feels.”

You listen, fingers slipping under the waistband of your underwear, trailing over the mound of your cunt. When your middle finger dips between your folds, you let go of a breathy whine and drop your head back against the pillow beneath it.

“Embarrassingly wet,” you admit with your cheeks starting to burn. “It’s — god, Joon, what did you do to me?”

“Inviting, isn’t it? Fucking perfect.”

That’s not a way you’d thought to describe yourself, but now that it’s being murmured so reverently into your ear, you can’t find it in you to disagree.

“Do me a favor,” Namjoon hums. “I can’t tease your clit myself, so I need you to do it for me, baby. Tide yourself over with your fingertip until you can have my tongue.”

It’s not the most articulate statement you’ve ever uttered, but you mean it more than most things when you hiss, “Fuck.”

The pad of your middle finger swirls languidly over your clit, and the closer you find yourself to the edge, the easier it is to forget that it’s your touch ushering you there. With your eyes shut and his voice guiding you, your brain fills in the blanks, envisioning your husband in the space between your legs. You swear you can feel the heat rolling off his body. But then again, it’s his narration that’s really got you burning up.

“I’m still trying to decide what I want to do with you when I get home,” he says before sucking a thoughtful breath in through his teeth. You hear his tongue click, playful yet confident. “Maybe I’ll start by burying my face in that perfect pussy of yours, so I can feel you gushing firsthand and lap it up.”

Shit, shit, shit.

Thank fuck for your vivid imagination and the visual it gives you of Namjoon flicking the tip of his tongue over the button of your clit. His chin already shining, heavy-lidded eyes fixated on you as he licks, nips, and suckles. Daring you to look away while knowing you’d never dream of it.

“I’ll have to hook my arms under your thighs to keep you open for me — gotta keep you pinned where I want you, even when you shake.”

You’re panting now. There’s a light sheen of sweat breaking over your forehead, though it doesn’t do a thing to fight the heat that swallows you whole.

“Hold me however you need to,” you moan. “Don’t let me go.”

“I think you want to let go, baby.” 

He sounds so cocky, and you can’t fault him for that; he’s right. You’re so close to your orgasm that you can feel its tingle building from the crown of your head to the tip of your toes. The arousal seeping around your finger makes it harder to find purchase, but you pick up the pace anyway, pressing harder against the bundle of nerves.

“You’ve listened so well, so far. You deserve to cum, don’t you?”

You nod so eagerly and pathetically — so completely unseen by the person you’re attempting to respond to — but can’t vocalize much more than a wail. 

“Say it out loud, and I’ll let you, sweetheart.”

Your desperation reaches a fever pitch.

“I do!” You damn near yelp, “I deserve it — I need it. Wanna cum so badly, Joonie, please let me.”

You can hear the soft smile in his voice when he tells you to cum. That’s all you hear; everything that comes after it is muffled when the bomb inside you detonates and leaves your ears ringing. Back arching off the bed, waves of pleasure roll through your limbs, and your body shivers involuntarily.

Through your wanton mewling, Namjoon gives you an additional instruction: “Slip two fingers inside. Fuck yourself through the crash, beautiful.”

“Oh, my god,” you hiccup uselessly.

Have you always been this eloquent?

Fuck.

Even if words have failed you, your body hasn’t. It scrambles to follow your husband’s directive with an eagerness you may never have experienced before, like your muscles were waiting for his signal, rather than the one from your own neurotransmitters.

Your middle and marriage fingers slip through your slick without resistance, burying themselves in your dripping cunt while a low groan rips through you. Your walls are still fluttering, contracting wildly as you sink inward to your second knuckles.

“I’m jealous of you, you know. I wish I could be the one you’re clamping down on now.” The low timbre of his voice vibrates down your spine. “I bet you can still feel that orgasm rolling through you. What do you think, sweetheart? Can you give me another one before the first fades away?”

If you manage to survive the night, you may have to kill him for how deadly he’s proving to be, but you swallow that thought down with whatever feral, gasping sound you threaten to let go of next.

“Curl your fingers upwards for me. Stroke that sweet spot the way you like — wanna see if you can make yourself squirt like I do.”

Everything that follows seems to happen around you, not to you, because your soul starts floating somewhere near the ceiling fan that hangs over your spent body. The flood comes, and you lose whatever grip you have on reality, as well as the one you had on your phone. It tumbles somewhere off to the side. Maybe? There’s a scream, you think, which presumably flies out of your mouth.

Delirious and out-of-breath when the tide ebbs, you reach out your hand and pat blindly around the mattress for your cell phone. Somebody needs to inform your husband that his exorcism was, in fact, successful — or that you’ve died — if he couldn’t hear as much himself. You suppose that someone will have to be you.

Namjoon is doing his best to keep his quiet laughter to himself when you ultimately snatch your phone off the floor and pull it back to your ear.

“I wasn’t sure if that thud was your phone or your body,” he teases. “You good, sweetheart?”

You collapse back against the bed with an unceremonious grunt, screwing your eyes shut only to find that the stars are still there, swirling aimlessly. “Ask me again in ten minutes,” you mumble, sounding even more pathetic than you did earlier. “Or call my time of death. Dealer’s choice.”

Namjoon sighs forlornly, “Rest in peace. Our time together was far too short.”

You’d roll your eyes if you had the strength to open them, but you don’t. Instead, you let your limp neck give out; your head rolls to the side until your cheek winds up pressed to your pillow. It comes out garbled and breathless, trailing off at the end: 

“Did you…?”

“Nah.” He chuckles again once he senses where your question was headed. Quickly, he elaborates, “But don’t worry about me, baby. There’s only one place I plan on finishing, and it’s not a cabin in the fucking woods.”

You pout, although the suggestion makes you everything but sad. “Come home soon, please.”

“I think home already came.”

When you finally exhume yourself from your sheets the following morning, it’s only because your phone vibrates so loudly against the nightstand that you had no choice left. Curiosity, as always, gets the best of you.

You scoot closer to the edge of your bed in order to reach the source of the buzzing, fully anticipating some photo of whatever Namjoon has scrounged up for breakfast — proof that he actually can navigate a kitchen without you present to supervise.

Namjoon’s name is listed when you open the thread. Unfortunately, not as the sender.

Yoongi [07:47]: ATTENTION KIM FAMILY! keep an eye on your mailbox. my therapist will be billing you both directly for the shit i had to overhear last night.

Your eyes widen far enough that they might fall out. The rest of you cringes so completely that your already-sore muscles ache even worse, although you might deserve that.

Before you can even begin to formulate a response, another pair of texts vibrates into your rigid grip.

Yoongi [07:48]: btw, joon - i made breakfast. you’re NOT allowed to look me in the eye while you eat it. Yoongi [07:48]: filthy ANIMALS

bts permanent taglist:

@sailoryooons @ugh-yoongi @gimmethatagustd @chimmisbae @somerockstarsgf @mgthecat @whatthefsposts @kookstempo @xjoonchildx @quarter-life-crisis2 @persphonesorchid @ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhintothevoid @firesighgirl @iadelicacy @cowboylikeyoongi @minholykingofkorea @serendididy @withluvjm @bbyorchid @nonbinary-demonbrat @piecsblog @myimaginationsrunningwild @zelchena @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d @pamzn @cyanide-mustard @taegeum @purplebeebs @i-purple-buff-bunni

multi permanent taglist:

@jihopesjoint @bahng-chrizz, @variety-is-the-joy-of-life

also paging @daechwitatamic, @yoongiphoria and @here2bbtstrash because they vibed with the main series, lmao.

[anonymousexywoman]

platonic love letter i gave to one of my friends

May 28th, 2023

12:37 AM

There are few things that make me feel truly alive. And on the days I want such a feeling to linger, or to even transpire in the first place, I chase these things with my dying breaths. One of these "things," if not the most important, are my friendships. Because what better way is there to feel alive than through real, genuine, human connection? Truly, I would feel lost without the people surrounding me. I believe I am more of a person with others than I am with myself, if that makes sense. I can sit on my bed and stare at myself in the mirror for hours, scrutinizing each detail of my face and body, wondering why and how they are they, wondering why I am there. When I am alone, there is nobody to speak to, no touch to be felt, nobody to look at me. Maybe I am attention-seeking, or maybe I just desperately long to feel human. But around my friends, the people I love most, all of this internal agony dissipates. It truly is a wonderful feeling. When I talk with my friends, laugh with them, bond, hug, kiss, cuddle, and cry, I feel alive. There are no worries to be had, because everything and everyone I need is right in front of me, and they love, appreciate, listen to, and understand me more than anyone else in this world. I once read a quote that said "There is too much soul in a human for one body." This has since been my truest belief, for the life that transpires in the connections between my friends and I is enough to last many lifetimes. And I hope it does- as corny as it sounds, I hope our souls travel together through this lifetime, the next, and all of the ones after that. I hope the pure human emotion we inspire in each other is never exhausted. And when I say "Thank you guys for hanging out with me," this is what I really mean. So thank you. Thank you for today, thank you for yesterday, thank you for tomorrow, thank you for the months that have passed and thank you for the years to come.

As summer seeps into the Midwestern sky, the days last a little longer, but never long enough. I watch the pinkish orange sky as I drive down the familiar county road. I speed up a bit, hoping to catch the sun in its setting and linger in this joy-filled day a little longer. But when the sky finally falls dark, all I can do is hope there is many more of these days to come.