#but i have abandoned my beloved series for too long

[iridescentis]

so earlier today in attempts to procrastinate studying, i finished a wip i had abandoned until now due to new fixations but it is here now!

part 3 of the extended ramtteo universe is here, she's short and sweet and part 2 is probably coming tomorrow since it's basically done it just needs some editing

[endless-ineffabilities]

sapphire-hearted (part six)

Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

Aemond races to find you, but will he be too late?

themes/warnings: language, some angst and pining, Aemond's attempt at being a wedding crasher

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

The days in King’s Landing have stretched thin and hollow since you departed. Aemond’s face is impassive, his mouth a tense line as he stalks through the stone corridors, but beneath his steely exterior, frustration gnaws away, relentless in its assault.

Your voice, your touch, the sweet nectar of your cunny—the memory of his last encounter with you festers like a wound. He sees it, feels it all whenever he shuts his eyes, the way his incomparable, beautiful Lady rode him without abandon. 

But you left a fortnight ago, bound for your familial seat, House Darry in the Riverlands, with barely a farewell. You mentioned something about duty, and tending to an ailing cousin, and you were gone before he could fully express his displeasure. He impatiently awaits for you to return to him, for it is in his arms where you truly belong. 

Alys is relentless. Her whispered words, her sidelong glances, all promises of power and alliance. She revels in his ambition. In his hunger for victory, which proves to be rather personal than for the good of the Crown. She knows what to offer him, and what to ask for in exchange—a babe, half dragonblood and half witchling—but his mind is distant, always circling back to you. Alys’ proposal has lost its taste in your absence. 

Even Alys senses it now, the dangerous edge in Aemond’s silence, a fury held too tightly under control. He burns with yearning for you, and the possibility of winning without you by his side has begun to feel hollow. 

If only you would understand what he must do. If only you could see the truth of Alys’ hand in keeping Aegon on the throne. But you fail to give credit to what Aemond has had to sacrifice.

The hour is late, but when he turns the corner, Aegon is lounging idly, surrounded by his lackeys by one of the grand columns, an amused smile on his lips.

“Brother, why you look like a storm in chains,” Aegon says, stretching with that lazy indifference only he could manage. “And yet, I believe I am aware of the source of your… troubles.”

Aemond’s eyes narrow. “If you have something to say, then speak it.”

Aegon chuckles, barely perturbed. “Ah, but it is known! In a few hours, your dearest beloved is to wed, or so I hear, I never pay much mind to things of no import… To Ramsay Beesbury of all men, that honeyed sod.” He pauses, savouring the shift in Aemond’s expression. “Surely word must have reached you?”

There is a flash in Aemond’s eyes, one that shifts quickly from shock to a lethal rage. “No one informed me,” he says, his voice taut as a blade. “Who arranged this?”

Aegon only shrugs, entirely too amused. “By the gods, brother, how the fuck should I know? They did make their impending union known at my feast… how long ago was it now, a moon’s time? Well, until you whisked the lady away and bed her, but who am I to pass judgment?”

“Are they not still in the middle of their courtship? It is uncustomary to be wed with such haste—”

“If you ask me, it is about time that the lady wed! She is not growing younger in her years, and she cannot live the rest of her days as your chamberwhore.”

Aemond sees red, and rushes forward in a flash, slamming the King against the wall with a hand constricting his windpipe. “Gods—” Aegon wheezes. His lackeys immediately tense, but none of them possesses the mettle to lay a finger on the one-eyed Prince.

It takes Aemond only a heartbeat to make up his mind. He releases Aegon with a sharp shove, turns on his heel, and strides from the hall without another word, deaf to the empty threats that are hurled at his retreating figure. His steps grow faster, surer as he nears the courtyard. Fury roars within him, a sensation like dragonfire climbing his spine. Sunrise would soon encroach upon the Seven Kingdoms, and its arrival will not herald your being bound to another man, not if he has any say.

Outside, the sky is a gathering of clouds, low and grey against the breaking dawn, as if even the heavens brace for a storm. Vhagar waits, her massive form shifting in the courtyard shadows, her eyes bright with predatory instinct. Aemond mounts her with barely a breath, his mind fixed solely on one destination: Honeyholt, the seat of House Beesbury, the only place the wedding could be held. As Vhagar rises into the evening sky, he feels the wind pull fiercely at him, and he pushes forward with a singular, roaring intensity.

There will be no union between yourself and Beesbury. 

A woman’s hands fasten your cloak, the pale blue silk colour of your House whispering as it settles against your form. Soon, it will be replaced by one of sable and yellow, to symbolise the House of your husband. 

You have not slept all night, thoughts of Aemond swirling in your mind like a curse. You have known this would be difficult, but this was something you need to do, and the day is finally here. Your hands tremble only slightly as they lift to adjust your gown, the scent of fresh lilies filling the room as servants bustle in preparation.

In your mind, you still see him. And in your heart… you still love him, and perhaps you always will. But you have no recourse but to surrender yourself to your marriage, lest you wish to have any chance at happiness. It will be nigh impossible to find any peace of mind whilst in possession of the knowledge that Aemond shares his bed with the witch, who will soon be granted the honour of carrying his babe.

You recall the way he held you as though you belonged to him, as though he could bend your very will. Your breath catches at the memory of how his voice trembled, the barely restrained desire that drove him to bind you closer, never allowing you to slip from his grasp. But you cannot let yourself drown in yearning. Not now. You steel yourself, forcing your thoughts back to the present.

“It is time, my Lady,” one of your handmaidens says gently, watching you with quiet sympathy. You feel the weight of your choice settle upon you, solid and unyielding. It is time to move forward, to leave that chapter of your life behind. Your hands rest against your wedding gown as you straighten, breathing in the finality of it all. 

And breathing his memory out.

Dawn has crept over the landscape, a pale light spilling over the stone walls and casting the ceremony in a shivering, spectral haze. The air is heavy with expectation, the kind that tenses every muscle, as if the entire world holds its breath. You feel it, deep within you—the stupid urge to run, to look over your shoulder, to see if he’s coming. 

It is a senseless thought, to wish for Aemond to come, when you purposefully made arrangements so that he would be unable to. So you force yourself to carry on, your resolve unbroken.

Ramsay Beesbury waits at the altar, the only other soul bound to this day, and you let yourself drift into the ceremony, the Septon’s words washing over you in a haze. You remind yourself to let go of the past; you cannot wait for a man who sees you as something to own, to control. 

Aemond might have sullied the love you once shared, a bond that grew and blossomed through the years—one you once believed unbreakable. 

But everything breaks. Men, kingdoms, dragons.

Even love.

The courtyard is swathed in the sun's early rays. Shadows give way to hazy beams, and as the morning stirs, so does the assembly gathered for the ceremony. The bride stands at the altar, hands clasped tightly as the Septon’s voice resonates through the stillness, weighted with tradition.

“…to honour and cherish, in this life and beyond,” the Septon intones, his voice a steady murmur, melding with the faint rustling of the wind and whispers from the onlookers. Your gaze drifts briefly over the scene, lingering on familiar faces, as you try to anchor yourself in the reality of the moment. Your heart thrums heavily, and your mind threatens to veer right back to Aemond—you can almost hear his voice, and envision how livid he would be when he finds out about your union.

He may burn the Seven Kingdoms to ash. That is, if he would not be occupied with his precious Alys.

High above the clouds, Aemond rides Vhagar, her wings slicing through the clouds with adept ease. The wind howls in his ears, the icy chill biting at his skin, but he urges Vhagar on. The pit of dread in his stomach grows with each passing second. He is running out of time. 

“Naejot!” he yells a command. Faster.

The expanse of Westeros stretches beneath him, a blur of green and grey, but all he sees is his destination—Honeyholt, the place that holds you. His hands grip the rein tightly, and he presses closer to Vhagar’s scales, his mind brimming with the only thought that matters: You are his, and his only.

The ceremony progresses, and you can barely register Ramsay’s vows, the words floating in and out of your consciousness like half-heard whispers. His voice is steady, measured. His hands clasp yours gently, as gentle as the smile that graces his lips. 

“Our marriage will be one of devotion and serenity. You will want for nothing nor will our children,” he had promised. A far cry from Aemond’s proposition that you can be with him so long as he fathers the bastard of a bastard.

To an outsider, it would have been the easiest choice.

“...to protect and honour, as the gods are my witness,” Ramsay declares, his words certain. His grip on your hands tightens as he speaks, binding them together. After a moment, you hear your own name called, and the vows spill from your lips without a thought. 

The sun is now just a speck on the horizon as Aemond approaches Honeyholt. The great stone walls stand tall, silent and stark against the grey morning, but no sounds of gathering reach his ears. He circles once overhead, Vhagar’s immense wings casting a shadow over the land below, and he focuses his gaze, searching, hunting. The courtyard is empty, not a soul to be seen.

A sliver of uncertainty gnaws at him, yet he descends. The ground trembles as Vhagar lands, her powerful body settling on the stones, but as Aemond dismounts, there is no sign of you, no sign of anyone at all save for a few servants tending to the grounds. 

“Where is she?” he spits, his voice a thick growl that pierces through the silence.

As the ceremony nears its end, the tension in your heart becomes lighter. Your gaze lifts, distracted by a shadow that drifted in the periphery. You stand frozen, until you realise that it was but a mere raven. 

The largest dragon in all of the land is not present in the Riverlands.

“I take this vow willingly…” you murmur the end of your vows, your voice quiet, and soon it is over. 

Back at Honeyholt, Aemond’s hands curl into fists as he prowls through the empty courtyard. He has grown frantic, but there is nothing here—no preparations, no guests, no fucking bride. A cold, bitter truth settles over him, tightening his throat, and he mutters in a dark, furious whisper, “No. This can’t be.”

It comes to him in a flash of painful clarity, the realisation that you’re not here, that he’s been chasing shadows. The Riverlands. You’re in your castle in the Riverlands.

It betrays Westerosi custom, to have the union in the territorial land of the Lady’s House and not the Lord’s, but it can be done. And the marriage can still be accepted. 

But how insolent… how precisely aimed to injure him… to shame him… 

You knew this would happen.

“You planned this,” he breathes, his voice laced with anger and something dangerously close to despair. He feels both empty and full of rage, and the pain of your loss nearly brings him to his knees. His jaw is set, his gaze set with a darkness that would terrify anyone who saw it.

In Castle Darry in the Riverlands, the ceremony culminates in the final exchanges whispered between the bride and her groom, and in your cloak being replaced with one of House Beesbury. You take one last breath, a silent farewell to the life you are leaving behind, as your new life, your new future, binds you to Ramsay, your Lord husband.

It is strange, but you feel a peace settle over you. Aemond’s hold over you is no more. And for the first time, you realise that perhaps you are free. 

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Some notes in the margins..

Well, our Lady is finally a Ladywife. And not Aemond's at that! But there is more to come as we near the end. Will Aemond abandon Alys? Will he steal his love away? Parts seven and eight will have the answers 💙

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Congratulations on 700 followers Mo 😖💗....I really LOVE reading your fanfics☺️

I was kindly requesting Navy hummingbird and sloth please

Eeeek thank you so much for reading! I hope you like this one! (Honestly? I kind of wrote this with the thought of it being Burning Hearts, my Law series, adjacent.) Needy Law is so cuuuuute!

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader

Prompt/Trope: Sex Pollen/Aphrodisiac x Somnophilia 

WC: 1900

Warnings: oral, sex pollen affects, somnophilia without discussion but let’s assume they have (don’t worry we’re cool!) unprotected sex, p in v sex, prone bone, creampies and breeding baby!

Happy Anniversary, Baby (18+)

— — 

Law was a composed man. Over time, you had managed to worm your way through his hardened exterior to reach his nerdy, compassionate, caring center. Even as he opened up to you, he was still methodical about most things, including sex. He had the motions to make you orgasm down to a science at this point, making sure you were pleased far more than worrying about his own release. He always pulled out. He was the doctor who prescribed your birth control for god’s sake but he insisted on being careful anyway. Even if you begged him to finish inside, he was stubborn. You would never complain about your relationship with Law, he was just the way you liked him. 

Law was up early one morning going over paperwork at his desk. He couldn’t sleep any longer and didn’t want to wake you from your peaceful slumber by tossing and turning, so he decided to get some work done. 

After an hour or so of being engrossed in his work, Law glances at the calendar hanging on his office wall. Todays date had little pink hearts drawn around it in gel pen, by your hand of course. 

“Oh shit.” 

Law had forgotten about your anniversary. 

He had to think of something fast, preferably before you woke up. You were always telling him he worked too much so he couldn’t imagine the ass-chewing he would receive if you found out he forgot your anniversary. 

“Flowers…” He mumbles as he rises from his desk and leaves his office. He headed down the hall to the large closet you had converted into a makeshift greenhouse for your beloved hydroponic garden. 

He rips open the metal door and is hit in the face with moist air and the refreshing smell of greenery. The walls and center of the room were completely covered in carefully curated small plants, vegetables, flowers, and ferns. Law steps in and closes the door behind him. 

“She likes yellow…” Law mutters to himself as he finds himself overwhelmed by all the flowers around him. He was a doctor, not a botanist, he had no idea what any of these plants were so he just decided to choose something in your favorite color. 

He walked up to a large bush on the left side of the room that had unique-looking yellow flowers blossoming all over it. He thought this would be as good as any so he reached out his hand to pluck at the stem of one of the blooms. 

Just as he wrapped his tattooed fingers around the plant, the flower released a puff of yellow pollen right in his face. Law jerks backwards. The particles fly up into his sinuses and causes an uncomfortable tickle. 

“Ah- ACHOO!” Law sneezes violently which triggers the rest of the flowers on the bush to release their own supply of pollen into the air, clouding his vision and irritating his nose further. 

Law covers his face and rubs his eyes, trying to brush any remaining flower pollen off of him. 

“Must be some kind of natural defense mechanism… fuck that.” Law gripes as he wipes the last remnants of the pollen from his tired face. 

Law catches his breath and chooses to abandon this particular, aggravating plant. He spies a rosebush in the corner of the room. He knows what those are for sure, and as long as he doesn’t prick himself on the thorns, it should be less of a challenge to harvest them. 

Law walks over to the rosebush and begins snipping off the beautiful yellow blossoms, keeping the stems just long enough to put in a vase. Once he had around a dozen roses, he left the greenhouse room to find suitable container for the flowers in the kitchen. 

Rooting around in the kitchen cabinets, Law struggles to find anything nice enough for an anniversary bouquet. 

He wipes sweat from his brow and realizes that he’s been having to do it every few moments… why was he so sweaty? Was the boiler on the fritz again? He made a mental note to check the furnace on the ship after he gave you your gift. Law ignores the heat creeping up through him and continues searching the cabinets. 

He is pushing coffee mugs aside just as he notices the warm feeling become even more intense. Sweat was beading at his temples. 

“Fuck…” Law grunts and abandons his quest briefly so he can pour himself a glass of water. He chugs the entire cup in a few gulps and slams it back onto the kitchen counter. His jeans felt tight now. He looks down. His dick was fully hard, straining against the thick fabric of his pants. 

“What the hell…” Law had no idea what was happening to him. He was normally so in control of his faculties, but he now found himself painfully erect for no reason at all. He felt more droplets of sweat trickle down from his scalp to his neck. He grips the countertop and hangs his head, breathing heavily. 

It had to be that plant. He had no other logical explanation for the ache in his crotch and the uneasiness he was feeling in his head. The water didn’t help. He needed your help. You knew everything about the plants in there and would know exactly what to do to make the effects stop. 

Great, Law thought. Not only did he blow off your anniversary, he might have severely injured himself in the process… once again he wins the “Shittiest Boyfriend in the Grand Line” award. You were going to kill him, and at this point Law was so uncomfortable that he would probably let you. He abandons the flowers strewn across the kitchen counter and heads to your shared bedroom, desperate to find a cure to his ailment but also apprehensive of your reaction to his idiocy. 

He pushes open the bedroom door and quietly slips in, so he wouldn’t startle you if you were still sleeping. Before he has a chance to even form the words he wanted to use to explain himself to you, he was stopped in his tracks by your sleeping form. 

You had tossed all the covers off your body since Law had left, and you were laying on your back snoozing peacefully. Arms stretched over your head, Law’s bright yellow t-shirt emblazoned with his Jolly Roger was the only article of clothing you had on. You looked so serene, lost in your dreams, little snores escaping your parted dry lips… but Law could only focus on one thing. His t-shirt had ridden up and your thighs were spread, perfectly exposing your naked sex to him. 

Law felt his entire heartbeat in his cock now. Your plump, outer pussy lips looked so delicious, so kissable, and all Law could think about now was burying his tongue in you as you slept. Without thinking, Law unzips his pants and steps out of them when they fall to the floor, hissing as his dick finally has more room to breathe. He was no longer in control of himself, he could almost smell you from across the bedroom. He needed to have you now. 

He shouldn’t! The last of his sanity was pulling at his brain, begging him to just wake you up and ask you how to diffuse the effects of the flower’s pollen… but your naked cunt before him was just too much to resist any longer. 

Still feeling hot, Law strips himself completely, hat included. His hands tremble with need and tension as he tries to delicately settle himself on the bed between your legs, not wanting to wake you up. He would have a small taste and then let you rest… just one little lick…

He couldn’t help it. He immediately latched his whole mouth around your sex and laves his tongue up from the bottom of your hole to the top of your clit. 

“Hnnnhhh…” You whimper and shift in your sleep. 

“Mmmm…” Law groans into your pussy as your sweet taste helps alleviate some of the pressure he was feeling in his body. He can’t help but hump his hard cock into the mattress below the two of you, no doubt leaking pre and staining the sheets. 

Law notices you begin to stir and squirm underneath his touch, so he gently places his hands on your thighs to keep you still while he lapped at your pussy as if he was desperately parched and your body was an oasis. Becoming increasingly aroused, more of your slick leaked out of your hole into Law’s mouth which he greedily slurped up. The familiar flavor of you made his eyes roll back. He needed more. 

Law pushes himself up and positions himself on his knees between your legs. He grabs his cock and strokes it a few times harshly before lining himself up with your weeping hole. 

“I’m sorry baby…” Law whispers as he pushes himself into you. 

“Oh…” You sigh and your eyelids start to flutter. 

Without giving you time to wake up, Law sets a punishing pace with his hips and hammers into your wet cunt. Your breasts bounce freely underneath Law’s t-shirt and you rub your eyes involuntarily. 

“L-Law?” You sleepily say as you gain consciousness and realize he’s on top of you and balls deep inside of you. You thought you were just having a sex dream but you were shocked to find your partner waking you up with his cock. 

“Needed you now… Had to take you… You looked so fucking good and I just couldn’t stop…” Law grunts out as he thrusts into you with everything he has. 

“Fuck… feels so good…” You whimper out, sleep still heavy in your mind. 

“Shit, I’m gonna-“ Law huffs out before you feel him press hard into you. You then get the unfamiliar feeling of him shooting a heavy load inside of your walls. 

“D-did you r-really just-“ You stutter. You feel his member still twitching and hard inside of you. 

“Fuck why won’t it go down?” Law grits his teeth. 

“W-what?” Before you had time to question him further, Law picks you up by your waist and man handles you onto your stomach, spreading your legs again to make room for him. He pulls your hips up and presses his dick inside you again, your tender hole seeping white liquid out and coating him. 

“Shit! Law!” You moan as you feel him hit your favorite spot from behind. He picks up a brutal pace as he fucks you. “S-slow down, babe!” You try to push a hand back on his abs to quell his fervor. “I’m gonna-“

“C-can’t… I can’t! Fuck!” Law huffs as he grips your hips impossibly tight, surely leaving marks. You had never seen this animalistic side of your boyfriend and you couldn’t help how much it turned you on. You felt yourself hurtling towards the edge of orgasm embarrassingly quickly for someone who had just woken up. 

“AH!” You yelp into the pillow below you as you cum, hard. 

“Yes baby, this pussy is so fucking good, squeezing me so tight…” 

You were a babbling mess as Law’s heavy thrusts send you into overstimulation. 

“Gotta fucking fill you again, want you to drip for days…”

You whimper in response. 

“Yeah you’re mine baby, all mine… gonna stuff you so fucking good… FUCK-“ Law almost shouts as you feel more hot liquid filling your insides, surely leaking out around his member. 

Law rides out his second orgasm with a few more deep thrusts before he collapses over you and nuzzles his face between your shoulder blades. 

Finally feeling relieved, Law pulls out of you tenderly before flopping on his back next to you on the bed, out of breath. You turn to your side and snuggle into him as he wraps his arms around you. 

“Happy Anniversary?” Law says tentatively.

“Happy Anniversary indeed. Was that my present?” You giggle. 

“I cut you some flowers, left them in the kitchen, though.” Law says as he strokes your hair. 

“Wait… what flowers?!” You raise your voice as your head shoots up off his chest. 

xx

Mo

[cevansbrat0007]

Back to Sleep

Summary: Ari has the perfect cure for your insomnia.

Warnings: Smut, Ari Being A Menace, Mentions of Insomnia, Brat!Reader, Spanking, Unprotected Sex, Soft D/s themes, Hand Job (implied), Discussions of Punishments, Bondage (mentioned), Manhandling, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!

“Could’ve sworn I had it in my hand when I walked out.” You mumble as you creep to the edge of your man’s bedroom. Using the flashlight feature on your phone, you scan the room, hoping to see where you’d left the charger for your Kindle.

You eventually spy it laying on the floor next to the nightstand. Holding your breath, you tiptoe back inside, taking special care not to make a sound. The last thing you wanted to do was wake up your bounty hunter. Especially since it had taken you so long to extricate yourself from him and that bed in the first place. 

As much as Ari Levinson said he wasn’t the cuddling type, his actions led you to believe otherwise. When that oversized menace wasn’t sleeping practically on top of you, he was taking up all the space - leaving you with hardly any. 

When you’d pointed that out the other day, he’d simply shrugged and mumbled something about sleeping better when he knew where you were. And then when you responded with it didn’t mean he had to take up the entire bed with you in it, he’d just shrugged again and said: “Well Bird, I reckon the safest place for you to sleep might be right here in my arms then, huh?” 

Stunned, you’d been left with virtually no other option except to agree with his logic. And the smug grin that slid across his handsome features let you know that you’d just lost a pretty major battle. 

But deep down, you really hadn’t cared as much as you might’ve let on. Maybe it was okay for you to like sleeping beside this sweet beast of a man. Especially since you seemed to be doing an awful lot of it lately.

However, that didn’t mean sharing a bed was without its downsides. In fact, you were in the midst of experiencing one right now. Because while Ari appeared dead to the world after a long day of chasing cold leads, you were wide awake. 

Which was unfortunate since you were the type of girl who loved her sleep. And now it looked like you’d be lucky if you got any at all tonight. Well, at least you’d had the forethought to bring along some reading material just in case. 

Maybe in the morning you would ask Ari if he was okay with you leaving a couple books at his place. While you suspected he wouldn’t be thrilled at the prospect of having a stack of romance novels taking up space on his nightstand, you also doubted he would say no. 

If anything, he would more than likely view it as a sign you planned to come back. You were too attached to your books to just abandon them with a man who would never be able to fully appreciate them.    

Once you manage to snag your charger, you quietly make your way back to your man’s sparsely furnished living room. Just the other night you’d brought up the fact that the cozy space could seriously benefit from a splash of color, along with a couple of throw pillows for the surprisingly comfy sofa. Ari’s response that time?  

“Have at it. Credit card is in my wallet. Take the silver, not the blue. Let me know if you wanna go to that one mall the next town over. I hear they’ve got better stores.” He’d said all of that without so much as batting an eye before returning his attention back to his laptop. 

Meanwhile, you'd been so shocked that somebody could’ve knocked you over with a feather. You were starting to find it annoying every time Ari Levinson rendered you speechless.       

You settle on the couch with a soft sigh, your body sinking into the plush cushions as you curl up with your beloved device. While it could never replace the feeling of holding a physical book in your hands, it did still serve a purpose. And right now that purpose was providing a healthy distraction from your anxiety-inducing bout of insomnia.

Powering on your Kindle, you immediately select the first book in Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander Series that also went by the same name. It was one of your favorites, which explained why you were currently in the middle of a much needed reread. 

Before you forgot, you make sure to lean over and hook up your charger. And then you clear your mind, allowing yourself to get lost in the magic of Gabaldon’s highlander epic, set in 1743 Scotland. You immediately pick up where you left off, with James Fraiser on a crusade to rescue his wife who was being held prisoner by the infamous Jonathan “Black Jack” Randall. 

And even though you’ve read this part multiple times, you find yourself getting swept up in the details of the dreamy highlander’s daring plan to save his Sassenach from her twisted captor’s clutches. 

You’re so engrossed in the chaos unfolding on the pages that you almost don’t hear Ari calling for you – your name fading into the chaotic background of the fictional raid on Black Jack’s stronghold. 

“Bird?” 

This time your head snaps up, your mind abandoning the antics of The Dunbonnet and his crew. You adjust your position on the couch, craning your neck as you listen out for whatever it was Ari needed.

“In here.” You reply, your teeth nibbling at your bottom lip. After a moment or two, you’re treated to the sight of a sleepy and disheveled Ari as he comes ambling around the corner sporting nothing but a pair of black silk boxers that left very little to the imagination.

He didn’t know this, but they were quickly becoming your favorite pair. 

“Got worried.” His voice comes out rough as he approaches, squinting as his eyes work overtime to adjust to the light. “Thought you might’ve left. Roads are dangerous this time of night.” He runs a hand through his tousled locks, attempting to brush them out of his face so that he can get a better look at your lounging form. 

Assuming that your oversized Harry Potter t-shirt and panties counted as pajamas. 

“Nope. I’m right here.” You tell him, offering up a sheepish smile. “Just me and Jamie Fraser. Doing our thing.”

“Who?” Ari levels you with a confused gaze, clearly not understanding the reference. “Sweetheart, I’m not gonna pretend to know who that is. But this Jamie guy needs to go find his own woman since it’s high time for mine to come back to bed where she belongs.” He informs you, scratching at an itch along his muscled abdomen.

“But I’m okay right here, Ari.” You do your best to reassure him. “Plus, I can’t sleep. Stupid insomnia. And the last thing I wanna do is keep you up after you’ve had a crazy long day.” You let out a yawn as you innocently stretch your arms overhead, missing just how quickly your bounty hunter’s attention shifts to your breasts as you arch your back.

“Bedtime, Duchess.” He holds out his hand to you, raising a tawny brow when you don’t immediately acquiesce. “Now, please.”

“But I just told you that I couldn’t sleep!” You protest when Ari plucks your e-reader from your grasp and sets it aside so that it can continue charging without interruption. Later, you would appreciate how gentle he always seemed to be with your things. But not right now. 

Right now, you wanted to pout.

“And I heard you, baby. Loud and clear.” He smiles indulgently before leaning down to lift you into his arms, his thick biceps curling around your body as he begins to carry you back to his bedroom. “But as your man, I happen to have the perfect cure for even the worst possible case of insomnia.” 

Winding your own arms around his neck, you decide to give into temptation and bury your face in the crook of his shoulder. Breathing him in, you find yourself reveling in the clean, masculine scent that was all uniquely him.

Ari presses a tender kiss to the top of your head, loving how it makes you giggle. You didn’t know this, but your sweet little laugh was easily becoming one of his favorite sounds. Almost to the point where he often found himself willing to do just about anything to hear it. 

Christ help him when you realized just how much of a sucker he was becoming for you. Some days he felt like he was falling hard and fast without a parachute. Which meant he was bound to be a goner. 

But until then, he was going to do everything in his power to bring you down with him.

Once you both have safely reentered the bedroom, he kicks the door shut with his foot without so much as a second look. He was a man on that mission. And nothing could be allowed to get in the way of seeing to his woman, who was apparently in desperate need of a good night’s sleep.

“I got you.” Ari gently places you down on the bed, ensuring that you don’t bounce too hard or anything like that. Once you’re settled, he makes quick work of relieving you of your top, freeing your breasts to his hungry gaze. 

His rapidly hardening cock twitches inside his boxers as he watches them bounce, your sweet nipples practically begging him to taste. But he stops short of giving-in when he gets a good look at what else you’ve got on beneath that damn shirt.

“What the hell is up with these?” He growls, his fingers finding their way into the waistband of your pink, cotton panties. “And why are you wearing them in my bed?” He cups your chin with his free hand, the pad of his thumb brushing across the softness of your lip. “Did you forget the rule, sweet Bird?”

You feel the blush rising to your cheeks, even as you bite your tongue. Because of course you hadn’t forgotten this particular rule. Although, it would serve him right if you had – especially since he always seemed to have so flipping many of them.

“Well?” Ari asks again, his grip tightening just a fraction. “What’s my rule?”

“No panties in bed unless they’re absolutely necessary.” You rasp in time with the goosebumps springing up along your heated flesh. 

“And are they necessary?” His commanding tone has your nipples pebbling with desire. Whether you liked it or not, your body was slowly training itself to respond to his special brand of dominance. “Or were you just feeling a little disobedient? Hm?”

“I…th–the second one, maybe.”

The look on your man’s face let you know that he’s far from pleased. But perhaps he might at least be willing to allow points for honesty.  

“Take them off and hand them to me.” He temporarily relinquishes his hold, giving you the chance to obey. 

You watch with baited breath as he graciously accepts them before bringing them to his nose and inhaling deeply. A strangled groan escapes his throat as his eyes threaten to roll back in his head, the erotic sound making your increasingly slick pussy flutter with need. 

You force yourself to remain silent as he repeats the action once more, before finally tossing them over his shoulder and returning his attention back to you. 

“Now, be a good girl and turn over on your belly.” 

Pulse hammering in your ears, you only briefly hesitate before doing as he asks. But it’s not until you’re finally in position that true understanding finally dawns. Less than a minute later, you feel Ari’s hand collide with your upturned ass.

“Ow!” You shiver as a delicious wave of heat blooms across your vulnerable cheeks, your hands fisting the covers in preparation for the next blow. Your hips jerk when his hand connects for a second time, your traitorous body growing more and more excited as the anticipation builds. 

And of course you knew what was expected to come next. Your handsome bounty hunter was waiting for an apology. Because it wasn’t enough for you to simply acknowledge your flagrant disregard for his no-panties policy. Oh no. Leave it to your Beast to take things a step farther.

“I’m not hearing anything, little Bird.” Ari lands another smack before pausing his sensual assault in favor of removing his boxers, allowing his heavy cock to spring free. A sight you would’ve been permitted to enjoy had your man not thought it was more prudent to punish you first. “Speak now, unless you’ve made your peace with having a sore ass.” 

Ari had no problem continuing on with your spanking. He could watch that sweet booty of yours dance for hours and still not get tired of it.

“I’m sorry, Sir.” You whimper, rising up to welcome the next slap. “It won’t happen again.” 

Except you both knew that it would. Maybe not necessarily in the form of you wearing certain undergarments when you shouldn’t, but Ari was convinced that it was only a matter of time before you decided to test him again. And when you did, he vowed he’d be ready.

Satisfied with your response, you only have to endure one final blow before he finally sees fit to end your punishment. “Thank you, sweetness. You think you’re finally ready for that special remedy I promised you?”

“Uh huh.” You breathe, feeling grateful when he helps you sit up. By now you can practically feel the sticky wetness seeping out from between your thighs as your core spasms - your empty walls clenching around nothing. You didn’t need to turn on the lights to know that you were making quite the mess. “I promise I’ll be on my best behavior.”

Of its own accord, your hand reaches out to grasp his straining cock, eliciting a sharp hiss from him. He was so fucking big that it was damn near impossible for you to wrap your hand around his impressive girth. Not that your man was complaining or anything. 

In fact, Ari was always so unbelievably patient whenever you took it upon yourself to satisfy him. A true gentleman in every sense of the word. Well…until he wasn’t. 

“You had better.” He grits out as you continue to work him up and down with unhurried, measured strokes. “Otherwise next time I might have to tie you up. Maybe teach you a lesson that way and see if it sticks.”

His head falls back onto his shoulders as you focus on tracing one of his manhood’s more prominent veins with the edge of your thumb, loving the way he shudders beneath your touch. He lets you have your way for a few more minutes, until his skin is flushed and a thin sheen of sweat dots his brow.

That’s when he puts a stop to things, if only because he’s not ready to cum yet. And even if he was, he was the kind of man who believed in putting his woman first. Brat or not. 

“I still think it’s a shame, but whatever you say, Ari.” You giggle, feeling more than a little playful when he gestures for you to get comfortable in the middle of the bed. He soon joins you, the pillow-soft mattress sinking under his weight. 

“Damn right, Duchess.”

Ari doesn’t stop until he’s looming above you, his big body blocking out the moonlight. Right now he looks every inch the predator – from the feral gleam in his eyes to the wolfish grin on his lips. There's little doubt that he plans to leave you deliciously sated by the time the sun comes up.

“Are you mine, Bird?” The question comes on the heels of a seductive purr. Before you can respond, his head dips to take your lips in a gentle kiss. You grant him full access to your mouth after the first brush of his skilled tongue, content to let him take the lead. 

You could be in charge another night.

“Yes.” There was no use in arguing that particular point anymore. You belonged to him for the foreseeable future. And you were okay with that. “But only if you’re mine too.” The unexpected phrase all but leaps out of your mouth before you can think better of it.

Ari immediately pulls away, his eyes darkening with a passion so intense it robs you of breath. “You want me to be yours?” The vicious sound rumbles out from somewhere deep in his chest. “You thinkin’ about keeping me like I am you?”

“Maybe.” You whisper as one of your legs hitches itself around his trim waist, pulling him down on top of you with a slight "oof". “That a problem?” You do everything in your power to keep your tone light, bordering on challenging.

But somewhere deep down you knew that if this moment didn’t go your way, it just might shatter that delicate thing inside you. That part of your spirit that was a little more fragile than you were actually willing to admit.        

“Nope.” Ari responds after a beat. “Perfectly fine by me.” And just like that, you can breathe again.

This time when his mouth finds yours there’s nothing sweet or soft about it. The kiss is a frenzied gnashing of teeth and tongue, with both of you fighting for dominance. One of Ari’s hands dives into your thick curls, wrenching your head back so that he can lavish attention along the curve of your throat, marking you up the way he’s been dreaming about since he walked through the doors of your shop that fateful day.

Ari Levinson was well aware that a woman of your caliber deserved fancy things like flowers and candy and fucking sappy poetry. All things that he was going to do his damnedest to give you. But until he calmed down enough to string a couple sentences together – or at the very least Google some Shakespeare and Bronte – you’d have to settle for a more savage kind of love.   

He grinds his cock against your drenched pussy, both of you groaning in unison as it slides through your messy folds. “Is all this honey for your man, baby?” You feel him smile against your neck before he goes back to gifting you with more love bites before moving on to toy with your pouting nipples. 

Thank goodness you owned a damn good concealer, otherwise you’d have a hell of a time explaining away your new, soon-to-be hickies to your nosey customers. 

“It’s all for you, Beast.” You gasp, as you buck and writhe beneath him. “Need you inside me, please. Want you to fuck me.” It was almost as if you couldn’t stand being without him for even a minute longer. 

That’s all your man needs to hear. Ari pulls away briefly, his breathing slightly labored as he lines himself up with your weeping entrance. “Well, since you asked so pretty.” One quick thrust is all it takes for you to welcome him home, your greedy walls clamping down around his shaft and refusing to let go. “Fuck!”

“That’s it.” You whimper, urging him to move as your heels dig into the small of his back. “Fuck me. Fuck your pussy, baby.” Your bounty hunter is all too eager to comply, pumping in and out of you with several shallow thrusts. 

Eventually, he decides to take pity on you and give you what you really need. Every single incredible inch of his thick, perfectly built cock.   

One of his hands reaches out to intertwine his fingers with yours. Meanwhile, he uses the other to maintain his balance so that he can go deep the way you need him to, letting you feel every sensual movement of his hips.

“Mine.” Ari snarls with each fevered stroke. “All mine, Bird. Just like this tight little cunt.” Your toes curl as he adjusts the angle so that his dick hits your spot just right. Fucking perfect. It’s so good you’ve got fireworks dancing behind your eyes.    

“Ooh!” You cry, raking your nails down his back. Because fuck it. It was only fair that your man bear your marks too. “Oh God, Beast!Please!Oh God, baby.Yes!”

“Never lettin’ you go.” Ari rears back slightly, but he doesn’t stop fucking you. He doesn’t even slow down. Instead he becomes hyper-focused on your connection, seemingly enthralled with the way you accept him every time surges in and out of your wet heat. “Always fuck that sweet ass back to sleep.” He slaps your flank hard, his bruising fingers digging into your thigh. 

“S’close, Ari.” You mewl as the pleasure continues to build, your mind slowly threatening to come undone. “Don’t–don’t stop!”

Thankfully, your man couldn’t…not even if he wanted to. And he really, really didn’t want to. But even as you feel that red hot coil tighten in your belly, you knew he was only just getting started. 

Honestly, you’d be lucky if either of you got any sleep before the night was through. But that was also fine by you. Because you were always ready to go a few more rounds with your man. 

And who knows? Maybe this next time, he’d even allow you to be on top. Or not. Although, you supposed it never hurt to dream. With or without a good night’s sleep.

END

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@daykrisr99

[satorulovebot]

CURSED SEAS CHAPTER ONE | the rouge captain

pairing — gojou satoru x fem!reader

genre —heavy angst, pirate au, 18+ 

summary — all your life you’ve been taught to hate pirates and the sins they have committed against god. you've always strived to be a good citizen upholding the law and avoiding the lawless, but when you meet the infamous captain gojou, known to be dangerous and cunning, you realize that survival in this world often requires sacrifices. sometimes, that sacrifice is your sanity.

tags/warnings. alcohol, religious themes, death, themes of depression, and criminal activity, it's a pretty tame chapter tbh.

notes. 6.2k wc. yeah we’re back baby with another series because i can’t sit still. i saw fan art (image 1) and (image 2) of pirate gojo and said yk what i’m gonna do a pirates of the caribbean inspired series. idk enjoy some brain rot. also know just like my introductory paragraphs my first chapters are ass and fast-paced.

next. HELP WANTED!

general masterlist -> series masterlist

Captain Satoru Gojou.

You had heard whispers of the infamous Captain Gojou for years. His name was spoken with fear in every port town along the coast. Some say he is invincible, that his ship, the Infinity, is the fastest to ever sail the seas. Others claimed he was dangerous, ruthless, and cunning—a man who showed no mercy to those he deemed too weak to survive in his world.

A few years back, a body washed up on the shore of Saltstone Port. The man, who was no older than twenty-five, had his eyes gouged out of his skull, and the number six was carved into the pale skin of his back. 

The discovery shocked the quiet little town, but it would not be the last time a mutilated body washed up on the shores of Saltstone Port.

You don’t miss the stagnant air at Saltstone Port. The salty breeze, tinged with the scent of rotting fish and seaweed, clung to everything it touched. It was a place where tales of Captain Gojou’s cruelty were whispered in darkened alleys and over dimly lit tavern tables, the memory of that unfortunate soul with the number six forever haunting the minds of those who dared to speak of it.

As you stood at the edge of the small dock in Elysport, you stared out at the vast ocean. You had always wondered if there was something more beyond the horizon at Saltsone and Elysport. You had only moved to Elysport in the last few years; your father claimed that it was God’s will for you to move after the death of your beloved mother.

You were just ten years old when your mother vanished without a trace, disappearing one night after her shift at the tavern. It was as if the earth had swallowed her whole, leaving no sign of where she had gone or what might have happened. The days that followed were a blur of confusion and fear, the house feeling emptier than ever without her warm presence.

Your father was a broken man during the weeks your mother was missing. Each night, he would fall to his knees, clasping his hands in desperate prayer. His voice, once strong and filled with faith, now trembled as he pleaded with whatever higher power might be listening to bring his beloved wife back to him and his young daughter. He prayed until his voice was hoarse, until tears stained his cheeks until the candles had burned down to their wicks. He sought solace in his faith, but with each passing day, the weight of uncertainty grew heavier, casting a shadow over your home.

He searched tirelessly for answers, combing the streets and questioning anyone who might have seen her. But no matter how hard he looked or how many prayers he whispered, the silence was deafening. Your mother, the heart of your small family, had simply vanished, leaving behind only questions and a growing sense of dread.

Nine agonizing weeks later, your mother’s body was discovered in a small, rotting, long-abandoned boat that had been stranded on the beach for years. You only caught a brief, heart-wrenching glimpse of her before the smallfolk, who had loved her dearly, carried her away. The once beautiful features of her face had decayed beyond recognition, maggots crawling across what little flesh remained.

Your father was utterly broken by the loss. He couldn’t understand why God would allow such cruelty to befall his family. The woman he had vowed to cherish and grow old with was gone, leaving him consumed by grief and bitterness. He became distant, his once-steady faith shaken to its core. He could not understand who would do this to his wife—a kind-hearted tavern worker known for offering a warm meal to anyone in need. The only conclusion that made sense to him was that pirates were to blame. In his mind, they were the only people capable of such barbarism, convinced that only they would commit such a gruesome act against the mother of his child.

Your father has always been a devout Christian. He was a pastor at the local church when you lived in Saltstone Port. His sermons were filled with messages of mercy and compassion. He always insisted that no one was beyond salvation, preaching that even pirates can be redeemed in the eyes of God.

But after your mother’s death, everything changed. His grief and anger warped his perspective, changing his view of life and love. The man who once preached forgiveness now called for the public execution of pirates, believing their crimes deserved the worst punishment hell could offer. An obsession now consumed him—a kind man who once spoke of compassion whose life was forever darkened by the loss of the woman he loved.

You now found yourself in Elysport, a bustling coastal city where the line between law and lawlessness begins to blur. The city's horizon is filled with the estates of wealthy merchants and the Governor’s home, a stark contrast to the docks below. The docks are always crowded, constantly filled with ships from all around the world, their sails billowing in the wind as they unload goods from distant lands. The scent of exotic spices and the sounds of vibrant marketplaces fill the air, mingling with the salty tang of the nearby sea.

In Elysport, you worked as a clerk for a small merchant. Your days were spent tallying registries, managing shipments, and handling mundane trade details. But your nights were different. They were filled with dreams of adventure, of sailing beyond the horizon where the sea meets the sky. Stories of legendary pirates and hidden treasures had always fascinated you, sparking a curiosity you kept hidden behind your daily life. Yet, you never imagined that those stories might come crashing into your own life one day.

One evening, as you were closing up shop, an old man stumbled into the store. His appearance was startling, to say the least—his clothes were tattered, his face weathered, and his hair a tangled mess. 

“Hello? Can I help you?” you called out from behind the counter, your voice slightly muffled by the shelves that obstructed you from view.

The man didn’t answer your question. Instead, his gaze darted around the shop, as if he was searching for anything suspicious that could get him in trouble. 

“You there!” he rasped, his voice rough. “I need a place to hide this.”

Your curiosity piqued at his words, you stepped out from behind the counter and faced the strange man who had entered just before closing. You assumed he was another last-minute customer, probably looking to buy something or bargain for a better price, knowing how tired workers down by the docks could be at this hour. 

You were curious but hesitant as you took the box from him. To your surprise, It was heavy for its size. The surface was adorned with intricate carvings, worn in places over time.

“What is this?” you asked, turning the box over to examine it more closely. The craftsmanship was remarkable, but there was something about it—something almost sinister.

The man watched you closely, his eyes never leaving your face. "It’s a map.” he said, "But not just any map. This map leads to something... powerful. Something that has been lost for centuries, tales of it told through generations of pirates, hidden away from those who would abuse its power."

You looked up at him, eyes wide and filled with curiosity. Why are you giving this to me?" you asked again, your voice trembling.

The man’s expression softened, a look of something almost like pity crossing his face. "Because you’re the one meant to find it," he said simply. "You’re the one who has been chosen."

"Chosen?" you whispered. "Chosen by whom? For what?"

The man smiled faintly, but there was a sadness in his eyes that made you uneasy. "You’ll understand in time," he said. "But know this: you must keep the map safe. Others would do anything to get their hands on it—dangerous people who won’t hesitate to kill for it."

Your breath caught in your throat at his words. You had always dreamed of sailing the seas looking for adeventure, but this... this… this was something else entirely. This was real, and it was dangerous.

You stared at him blankly, your mind racing as you tried to process the words the strange man had been saying. This was no ordinary treasure map. This was something that was hidden away for a reason.

"Why me?" you asked, your voice trembling. "Why would you trust me with something like this?"

The man’s eyes softened again, and he reached out to place a hand on your shoulder. "Because you’re different," he said quietly. "You have a strength in you that others don’t. You have a heart that won’t be easily swayed by greed or power. And most importantly... you have a destiny to fulfill."

His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning that you couldn’t fully grasp. You wanted to ask the strange man more, to demand answers to the questions swirling in your mind, but something in the man’s eyes told you that he had already said all he could.

"Keep the map safe," he repeated, his voice firm. "And trust your instincts."

Before you could say anything else, the man turned and walked out the door, disappearing into the darkness of the night. You stood there for a pregnant moment, the map clutched in your hands, your mind reeling from everything that had just happened.

You looked down at the map again, the tips of your fingers trace the markings, as if trying to unlock the secrets they hold. This was it. This was what you had always dreamed of, but it was also something far more dangerous, something that could get you killed.

You knew you couldn’t do this alone. You needed help, and there was only one place you could think of where you might find it.

The merchant’s ball.

It was an event you had never been invited to before—a grand affair where the city’s most powerful and influential figures gathered. But now, with the map, you knew you had to find a way in. You needed to find someone who could help you decipher it, someone who had the knowledge and connections to help you.

As the night of the ball approached, you found yourself growing more and more restless with each passing day. The very idea of the map’s existence gnawed at the back of your mind, its mysteries out of reach. The old man’s warning lingered in your mind, too—a treasure beyond your wildest dreams, but cursed. It was a puzzle you couldn’t solve on your own, and it only fueled your determination to get an invitation to the Merchant’s Ball.

But getting an invitation was easier said than done. The ball was exclusive, and the guest list was closely guarded. You knew you couldn’t simply walk in off the street, no matter how determined you were. You needed connections, and though you had some, they were weak connections at best. Your mind raced as you considered your options, running through the names of merchants and traders you had helped over the years. Some owed you favors, but whether those favors were enough to get you into the ball was another matter entirely.

You decided to start with a merchant you knew well—a grizzly man named Marcus, who had been in Elysport for decades. You had helped him with his inventory more than once, making sure that certain shipments went unnoticed by the authorities, and he had always been grateful for your help. You found him in his usual place, a small tavern near the docks.

“Marcus!” you greeted him with a smile as you approached his table.

He looked up, his weathered face breaking into a grin. “Ah, it’s you. Come to save me from my spending again?”

“Not this time,” you replied, taking a seat across from him. “I need a favor.”

His smile faded slightly, and he set down his flagon of ale. “A favor, eh? What kind of favor?”

You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “I need an invitation to the Merchant’s Ball.”

Marcus leaned back in his chair, his eyebrows raised. “The ball? That’s a big favor, lass. Those invitations are hard to come by.”

“I know,” you admitted. “But I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

He studied you for a moment, his eyes searching your face. “What’s this about? You’re not one for fancy parties.”

You looked around the tavern, ensuring no one was listening, then leaned in closer. “I’ve come across something… valuable. But I need help deciphering it. The ball is my best chance to find someone who can.”

Marcus’s expression turned serious. “Something valuable, you say? What kind of valuable?”

“I can’t say too much,” you said, lowering your voice. “But it’s big, Marcus. If I can figure it out, it could change everything.”

He was silent for a moment, considering your words. Finally, he nodded. “All right. I can get you in. But you’ll owe me for this, understand?”

You nodded, a smile present on your face. “Thank you, Marcus. I won’t forget it.”

True to his word, Marcus got you an invitation, and the day of the ball soon arrived. You spent hours preparing, trying to calm the nervous flutter in your stomach. The dress you chose was simple yet elegant, a deep blue silk that flowed like water as you moved. You had never worn anything so fine before, and as you looked at yourself in the mirror, you barely recognized the woman staring back at you. But tonight wasn’t about appearances—it was about seizing an opportunity, about finding answers to the questions that had been plaguing your mind since that fateful night in the shop.

When the carriage finally arrived to take you to the Governor’s Palace, you felt a mixture of excitement and fear. The city seemed more alive than usual as you made your way through the cobblestone streets, the sounds of laughter and music drifting on the night air. As the palace came into view, its tall columns were bathed in the warm glow of hundreds of lanterns. The grandeur of it all was overwhelming and it was a far cry from the rough and weathered streets of Elysport that you were used to.

You clutched your invitation tight as you approached the entrance, the doorman barely glancing at it before stepping aside to let you pass. The moment you stepped inside, you were encompassed in a world of luxury, unlike anything you had ever seen. The foyer was vast with marble floors gleaming under the light of large crystal chandeliers. Ornate tapestries adorned the walls, depicting scenes of grand battles and lavish feasts. Servants moved about with precision, carrying trays of champagne and delicate hors d'oeuvres, while the guests—dressed in their finest silks and satins—murmuring amongst themselves, their laughter filling the air.

You followed the flow of people into the main ballroom, your heart pounding as you took in the sight before you. The room was massive, with tall, arched windows that offered a view of the moonlit gardens outside. The walls were painted in rich, warm tones, and the floor was a mosaic of polished marble that reflected the golden light of the chandeliers. Musicians played soft melodies in one corner, their music blending in seamlessly with the murmur of conversation.

For a moment, you hesitated, feeling out of place. You had never been in a setting like this, surrounded by wealth and power. But you squared your shoulders, reminding yourself of the reason you were here. You weren’t just a simple clerk from the docks anymore; tonight, you were a woman with a purpose, a secret map, and a mission.

The ballroom was extravagant, to say the least. It made you feel sick that only a select few could enjoy things like this without worrying when their next meal would be or if they would be able to afford basic necessities. But were you any better than these people? After all the only reason you’re here is because you have good connections, just like the people in this room.

As you look to your left, you notice the couples dancing around the floor, their conversations blending in with the soft music. It was all very odd, like a dream you didn't want to wake up from.

“Enjoying the festivities?” A smooth and confident voice interrupted your thoughts. You turned to see a tall figure standing just a few feet away, his face obscured by a mask similar to yours.

You felt a shiver run down your spine, though you couldn’t quite figure out why. There was something about him, something unsettling in the way he carried himself, in the way he seemed to command the space around him. His mask was pale, almost ghostly, with intricate blue patterns that drew your gaze.

“I suppose,” you replied, keeping your voice light, though the unease you felt was seeping into your words. “These sorts of events are always a bit... overwhelming.”

He chuckled softly, the sound rich and smooth, “Yes, they can be,” he agreed, taking a step closer, his eyes—bright and unnervingly blue—locked onto yours through the slits in his mask. “But they can also be... enlightening if you know where to look.”

You felt your heart skip a beat, your mind racing as you tried to understand his words. Was he just making conversation, or was there something more to his statement? You couldn’t tell, and that made you more on edge.

“Is that so?” you asked, forcing a smile as you took another sip of your champagne, trying to calm your nerves.

He nodded, his gaze never wavering. “Indeed. You’d be surprised what you can learn at a gathering like this, especially if you keep your eyes and ears open.”

There was something in the tone of his voice, something that made you think he wasn’t just talking about useless gossip or civil conversation, at something deeper, something more dangerous, and it set you on edge.

The two of you sat in silence for a brief moment.

“Do you come to these kinds of events often?” you asked, trying to change the topic of conversation, though you couldn’t shake the feeling that this man was anything but safe.

“From time to time,” he said with a shrug. “But tonight is special. Tonight, I’m here for something—someone—quite specific.”

Your breath caught in your throat and you felt a chill run down your spine. It was the way he said it, the way his eyes seemed to pierce through you like daggers, it was as if he knew exactly who you were and what you were here for.

But, that was impossible, you thought to yourself. You were just a clerk, a regular person caught up in something far beyond your understanding. There was no way he could know about the map, about the treasure. No one knew. No one except—

“Do I know you?” you asked, the question slipping out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.

His smile widened, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Perhaps,” he said vaguely, his voice a low murmur that sent another shiver down your spine. “Or perhaps you’ll get to know me soon enough.”

Before you could respond, before you could even process his words, the doors to the ballroom burst open with a deafening boom. The music stopped abruptly, the room falling into shocked silence as everyone turned to see what happened.

A group of masked men stormed into the room, their swords drawn as they advanced on the crowd. Panic erupted, the guests screaming and scrambling to get away as the intruders began tearing through the ballroom, overturning tables, smashing glass, and sending the wealthy world of the Elysport elite into chaos.

You barely had time to react before you felt the man’s hand on your arm, pulling you toward the nearest exit. His grip was firm, his expression unreadable beneath the mask as he guided you through the panicked crowd, dodging the chaos that surrounded you.

“Stay close,” he ordered, his voice calm despite the madness. “We’re not done yet.”

And with that, you were swept away into the night, the sound of the destruction behind you fading as the mysterious man led you away from the scene, leaving you to wonder who he really was—and what he wanted with you.

The cool night air hit your face as you were pulled out of the grand ballroom and into the dimly lit streets of Elysport. The contrast between the noise and chaos of the ball and the quiet moonlit streets was jarring. You were still reeling from the events that had unfolded, your heart pounding in your chest, and your mind racing with questions.

The man holding your hand was strong, his grip firm but not painful, leading you through the labyrinth of narrow alleyways that twisted and turned through the dark city like a maze. The commotion of the party faded into the background, replaced by the distant sounds of the sea and the occasional creak of a ship down at the docks. The city was alive with the whispers of its nightlife, but you felt completely alone, alone with this stranger who seemed to know everything about you.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he slowed his pace and came to a stop in a small and secluded courtyard. The stone walls of the surrounding buildings loom above you and the walls cast deep shadows that obscured your surroundings. The man released your hand, leaving you standing in the center of the courtyard.

As you took a moment to catch your breath, thoughts reeled through your mind. Who was this man? What did he want with you? And why had he chosen to rescue you from the ball? You looked around, trying to get a sense of where you were, but the courtyard was unfamiliar, and the darkness made it almost impossible to see anything.

Before you could gather your thoughts, the man stepped forward again, more calculated and more predatory. His movements were fluid as if he were completely at ease in the darkness. He reached up, and with a swift motion, removed the mask that had concealed his face.

You gasped, taking a step back as the light of the moon revealed his features. The man standing before you was impossibly handsome, his striking blue eyes piercing through the shadows with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. His white hair, which had been partially hidden beneath the mask, now fell loosely around his face, giving him an almost ethereal appearance. But it was the look in his eyes that truly unsettled you—as if he could see right through you.

"You're a difficult person to track down," he said, his voice smooth and confident, with a hint of amusement.

You took another step back, your mind racing. "Who are you?" you demanded, trying to keep your voice steady.

He tilted his head slightly, a small, almost playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Who I am isn't important," he replied his tone light, almost amused. "What matters is what I know."

A chill ran down your spine at his words. You felt like a cornered animal, trapped with no way out. "W-what do you want from me?" you stuttered, trying to keep the fear out of your voice.

His smile widened slightly, but his eyes remained cold and calculating. "You know what I want," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "You have something that belongs to me."

Your heart skipped a beat, and your thoughts immediately jumped to the map. How did he know about that? The old man had warned you that it was cursed, that it would bring you nothing but trouble, but you didn't think it would be anything like this.

The man's smile faded, and his expression grew more serious. He took a step closer, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied you. "Don't play games with me," he warned, his voice low and dangerous. "I know you have the map. And I know you've been looking into it."

"I don't have it," you insisted. "I got rid of it."

The man raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing you. "Is that so?" he took a step forward, "Because from what I've heard, you've been asking around about certain landmarks. Places that just so happen to match the ones on the map."

Your heart sank. He knew too much. There was no point in lying anymore. But you couldn't just hand the map over to him—not without knowing who he was and what he planned to do with it.

"Why do you want it?" you asked, trying to buy yourself some time. "What's so important about this treasure?"

The man studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable. "That's none of your concern," he said finally, his tone dismissive. "All you need to know is that it's mine. And I intend to get it back."

"And if I don't give it to you?" you challenged.

He smiled again, but this time there was no warmth in it. "Then I'll take it from you," he said as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

You stared at him, trying to gauge his intentions. There was something about him—something dangerous and unpredictable—that made you believe he wasn't bluffing. But at the same time, you couldn't just give up the map. Not without knowing what it was all about, and what it could lead to.

"I need more time," you said finally, hoping to stall him. "Let me think about it."

The man studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, to your surprise, he nodded. "Very well," he said. "But don't take too long. I'm not a patient man."

He turned to leave, but then paused mid-way, glancing back at you over his shoulder. "Oh, and one more thing," he added, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "Don't try to run. I'll find you. No matter where you go."

With that, he disappeared into the shadows, leaving you alone in the courtyard. You stood there for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Who was this man? How did he know so much about you? And what was he planning to do with the map?

You knew you had to be careful. Whatever this treasure was, it was clearly important enough for someone like him to go to great lengths to get it. But at the same time, you couldn't just hand it over without knowing more. You had to find out what this was about—before it was too late.

You quickly made your way back to your small house, your mind racing with thoughts of what to do next. You weren't going to let anyone intimidate you—not even someone as dangerous as him.

As you reached your door, you paused, glancing around nervously. The man's warning echoed in your mind—he would find you, no matter where you went. But you couldn't let that stop you. You had to find out the truth, no matter the cost.

With a deep breath, you unlocked the door and stepped inside. The map was hidden in a small, secret compartment in the floorboards—a place you thought no one would think to look. You retrieved it, carefully unfolding the worn parchment and studying the markings on it.

You had to figure out what this map was leading to, and why it was so important. As you stared at the map, a new plan began to form in your mind. You would find someone new who could help you decipher it—someone who knew the legends of the sea better than anyone else. And then, you would find the treasure before anyone else could.

But even as you made your plans, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were being watched. The man's piercing blue eyes seemed to haunt your every thought, his warning lingering in the back of your mind.

You knew you were playing a dangerous game. But you had no choice.

And so, with the map clutched tightly in your hands, you made your decision. You would find the treasure—no matter what it took.

The city was bustling when you stepped out onto the streets, the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the cobblestone road. You knew where you needed to go—there was a tavern on the edge of the city, where sailors and pirates would gather to share stories. It was a risky move, venturing into such a place, but you were running out of options.

As you made your way through the streets, you kept an eye out for any sign of the man from the night before. You couldn’t afford to be caught off guard again.

Finally, you reached the tavern, it was a weathered building with a creaky old sign hanging above the door. The scent of salt and ale greeted you as you stepped inside, the dimly lit interior filled with the low hum of conversation. You spotted a few rough-looking sailors at the bar, their eyes looking toward you with curiosity as you made your way to a secluded corner.

You ordered a drink as you tried to blend in, waiting for the right moment. You needed to be careful about who you approached—trust was a rare occurrence in a place like this.

As the minutes ticked by, you watched the patrons of the tavern by studying their movements and listening to parts of their conversations. You were looking for someone who seemed knowledgeable, someone who might have heard of the map or the treasure it led to.

Finally, your patience was rewarded. An old sailor whose face had been weathered by years at sea, sat down at the table next to yours. He wore a tattered grey coat and a wide-brimmed hat. He seemed like the kind of man who had seen his fair share of the world, the kind of man who might know more than he let on.

You took a deep breath, gathering your courage, and leaned toward him. "Excuse me," you said quietly, your voice steady. "I was wondering if you might be able to help me with something."

The sailor turned to look at you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied you. "Depends on what you’re asking.”

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how much to reveal to the man before you. But you had to take a chance. "I’m looking for information about a map," choosing your words with care. "A map that leads to a treasure. But I don’t know where to start."

The sailor’s eyes flickered with a hint of interest, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "A treasure map, you say?" he repeated, leaning back in his chair. "Well, now, that’s a dangerous thing to be looking for, especially in a place like this."

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. "I know it’s risky," you admitted. "But I need to find out what this map leads to. And I was hoping you might know something about it."

The sailor stroked his chin thoughtfully, his eyes never leaving yours. "There’s a lot of talk about treasures and maps in these parts," he said slowly. "Most of it’s just nonsense, stories made up to entertain drunk sailors. But every now and then, you hear about something real—something worth risking your life for."

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "If you’ve got a map, and it’s real, you’d better be careful who you share it with. There are people out there who would do anything to get their hands on a treasure like that."

You swallowed hard with the weight of his words sinking in. "I understand," you said quietly. "That’s why I’m being careful. But I need to know more about what I’m dealing with."

The sailor nodded slowly, his gaze thoughtful. "Alright," he said finally. "I’ll tell you what I know. But it won’t come cheap."

You reached into your pocket, pulling out a small pouch of coins. It wasn’t much, but it was all you had. "Will this be enough?" you asked, hoping it would suffice.

The sailor took the pouch, weighing it in his hand before nodding in approval. "It’ll do," he said, tucking the pouch into his coat. "Now, let me see that map of yours."

You hesitated for a moment before reaching into your bag and pulling out the map. You unfolded it carefully, laying it out on the table between you. The sailor leaned over, his eyes scanning the markings and symbols.

After a few moments, he let out a low whistle. "Well, I’ll be damned," he muttered, more to himself than to you. "This is the real deal."

You leaned forward eagerly, your heart racing. "What does it say?"

The sailor glanced up at you, his expression serious. "This map," he said slowly, "leads to a place that’s been whispered about for generations. A place where a great pirate captain supposedly buried his most valuable treasures. But it’s not just gold and jewels we’re talking about. There are stories of powerful artifacts."

"But it’s not going to be easy," the sailor continued. "The path to that treasure is full of danger. There are traps, curses, and worse things that guard it. And if you’re not careful, you’ll end up just like the others who’ve tried and failed to find it."

You felt a chill run down your spine at his words. "What do you mean, 'the others'?" your voice barely above a whisper.

The sailor’s expression darkened. "There have been others before you," he said quietly. "People who thought they could outsmart the dangers and claim the treasure for themselves. But none of them ever made it back. Their ships were found wrecked, their crews dead or missing. And those who survived were driven mad by what they found."

You swallowed hard, the gravity of the situation sinking in. "So, what do I do?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

The sailor looked at you for a long moment before speaking. "If you’re serious about this, you’ll need to prepare yourself," he said. "Find a crew you can trust, people who know how to handle themselves in a fight. And most importantly, keep that map close. There are others who would kill to get their hands on it."

You nodded, "I’ll do whatever it takes."

The sailor nodded, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. "You’ve got spirit, I’ll give you that," he said. "Just be careful. This world is full of dangers, and not all of them are as obvious as a pirate’s blade."

With that, he stood up, tipping his hat to you before turning to leave. "Good luck, lass," he said over his shoulder. "You’re going to need it."

You watched him go, your mind racing with everything he had told you. The treasure was real, and it was more dangerous than you could have ever imagined. But you were determined to find it, no matter what it took.

You took the map and carefully folded it and tucked it back into your bag. With a deep breath, you stood up and left the tavern, your heart pounding in your chest. You had a lot of work to do, and there was no time to waste.

As you walked back through the city streets, the weight of the map seemed heavier than ever. You knew you were about to embark on a journey that would change your life forever, one that would test your courage, your resolve, and your very soul.

But despite the fear that lingered in the back of your mind, there was also a sense of excitement—a thrill at the thought of uncovering something that had been hidden away for centuries that not even the best pirates could find.

You had the map and you had the determination, now all you needed was the right people. And once you had that, there would be nothing stopping you from finding the treasure and claiming it for yourself.

The night was still young as you made your way back to your small home. You were ready to face whatever challenges came your way, to risk everything for the chance to uncover the secrets of the map.

And as you reached your door, the words of the mysterious man from the ball echoed in your mind: "I’ll find you, no matter where you go."

You knew he was out there, watching, waiting for the right moment to strike. But you weren’t afraid. You were ready for whatever came next.

series masterlist -> chapter 2

[wordsvomit101]

Reverse AU: What if... 'You' are his favorite fictional character.

Summary: In their mundane human lives, filled with ups and downs, there’s one constant: you. As a beloved character from the pages of fiction, they find themselves irresistibly drawn to you. Though you exist by someone else imaginations, your presence brings a daily dose of joy and inspiration. Now, imagine their sheer amazement when they stumble upon you in the real world, a living, breathing embodiment of their cherished fictional hero.

Warning: A small bit of yandere, not too much. A lot of how they were as human are my hcs. I have a lot of fun putting them in different scenarios as you can tell.

Satan

In his youth, Satan was a notorious troublemaker, causing endless headaches for adults while earning the admiration of his peers. As the leader of a biker gang and winner of many martial arts competitions, he was the coolest guy around—both in school and in his neighborhood. Even his rivals admitted it. His rebellious nature led to frequent clashes with authorities, stemming from countless property damage incidents, noise complaints, and weekly brawls—many of which he instigated. Despite the chaos, Satan was well-liked and respected. His unwavering commitment to his word and reputation as a tough but honorable man inspired loyalty wherever he went, making people feel they could rely on him no matter the circumstances. These traits even managed to draw in the uptight Sitri from another neighborhood, who became his right-hand man and later his manager when Satan turned professional racer.

As a child, Satan was a huge fan of action and sports movies and TV series. Speeding through the streets on his motorbike made him feel alive, and he sought out any media that thrilled him and distracted him from his depression and insomnia. When he wasn't smoking or drinking himself to sleep, his gang members or Sitri would take him back to his empty home. His parents had long given up trying to discipline him and make him follow their path as upstanding citizens—wealthy socialites—in the upper echelon of society. So they left him the house, some workers to clean and cook, and helped with the bills. Aside from that, he was on his own. These movies and TV series made him feel less alone when he didn't have company over. One of his favorites was about a secret military project that endangers a post-dystopian country by turning a biker gang member into a rampaging psychic psychopath, who can only be stopped by a teenager, his gang, and a group of psychics.

Satan both loved and hated this movie. Beyond the action and the dream of owning the red motorcycle featured in the film, he adored a side character who was a close friend of the main character. He was enraged when they died sacrificing themselves for the protagonist. Back then, he deluded himself into believing that he could save that friend if he were the main character. When he confided this to Sitri or Mammon, they only patted him on the back and looked at him with sadness or amusement. He punched and kicked them both. Satan continues to watch the movie throughout his life, despite the gore and violence. Whenever the side character is on the screen, they calm him, and their soothing words lull him to sleep every time.

As an adult, successful and owning his dream red motorcycle, Satan became a respected racer and moved far away from that empty house, carrying only the good memories with him. His love for the movie, especially the side character, remained strong. When he heard about a sequel to the original, he abandoned his photoshoot schedule, leaving an angry Sitri behind, and raced to be the first in line for a ticket. The movie, set in an alternate scenario where his beloved character is still alive, elated him. Whenever they appeared, he grinned with pure joy, his eyes full of love, causing those beside him to be flustered by his radiance. He mentally thanked every animator who brought the character to life and wished he could capture every moment they were on screen with his phone.

Imagine his surprise when, after winning a prestigious motorcycle racing event, he heads to the hotel bar and catches a glimpse of you through the windows—real and breathing the same air as him—walking out of the hotel with your luggage. Heart pounding, Satan races down to the ground floor, but by the time he arrives, you’ve already vanished, leaving him in a mix of anger and disappointment. Yet, there’s no doubt in his mind. He knows it was you, your distinctive look and walk burned into his memory for years. From that day forward, he leverages every connection at his disposal to track you down, enduring months of fruitless searching until Lady Luck finally smiles upon him.

When he sees you talking to the receptionist at his usual gym, he can't contain himself and tackles you into a crushing hug. He savors every micro-expression you make—the way your breath grazes his face, how lovely your voice sounds when you yelp in shock, and how you grip his shoulders, trying to push him away. You are real. This realization sends a shiver down his spine, and his elated grin remains even when you slap him for hugging you out of nowhere. The sting on his cheek feels incredible, and he almost wants you to continue, but he lets you go. Despite his intense desire to carry you off and shower you with kisses, he knows he has to be patient. He has all the time in the world to get to know you better.

Sitri

As the sole legacy of his grandmother, Sitri carries the weight of her expectations when she sends him to the city for a better education, arranging for him to live with a close acquaintance. It was the first time he took the train too. Determined not to worry her, he strives to be responsible: studying diligently, maintaining his health, avoiding trouble, making friends, and being respectful to others. His life is simple yet challenging, easy yet demanding—truly mundane. The bright spots were learning about various teas and the art of tea making from his grandmother, engaging with his fascinating neighbors next door in their apartment complex, and playing drums in his school band with Juno, Belial, and Jiyu.

Until Satan discovered him during a school festival performance and promptly recruited him into the gang, Sitri was used to leading a relatively quiet life, though not anymore after that fateful day. The constant headaches from the trouble he had to resolve for his new gang members and the concern from his grandmother and his guardian seemed enough to turn his hair white from stress. Yet, this chaos brought color and excitement to his life, much like discovering new flavors of tea that thrilled his senses. Satan gave him a place where he felt he belonged, new people to care for, and a friend he promised to follow for the rest of his life.

Sitri never met his parents, and his grandmother didn't like talking about them, so he refrained from asking. Sometimes, he forgot they existed unless someone mentioned them. If asked whether he missed them, he would say he didn't; it was impossible to miss people he never knew. However, he did feel a deep connection to a character whom he has always yearned to have in his life from an old drama—which became a significant part of his childhood and adulthood—about a spy agency retrieving a stolen martial arts manual, leading to epic battles and encounters. The protagonist, along with his friends, ultimately defeats the villains and chooses to roam the martial arts world.

Growing up in a retirement community, he was surrounded by elderly folks who treated him like their own grandson, so he rarely felt lonely despite not having peers his age. However, before meeting his friends and Satan, he always wondered what it would be like to have a friend his age to share adventures with. The main character’s friendship with a beloved side character, who taught valuable lessons and provided unwavering support, made him especially envious. When that character left the story, Sitri was deeply heartbroken and sulked for days until his grandmother gifted him a mug with the character's silhouette carved on it by an old uncle at her request. That mug became his favorite for drinking tea, a treasured item that no one else, not even Satan, was allowed to use.

Despite his affection for Satan as a leader and a friend, managing Satan's temper and tendency to get into trouble was no easy task. This challenge was compounded by the constant bombardment of calls and texts from their former biker gang members—most of which were thoughtful inquiries about their well-being, but after an hour of chatting, his phone would become hot from the incessant vibrations. What kept Sitri's sanity intact were the generous paychecks he received for handling PR nightmares and the quiet nights he spent with tea and snacks, re-watching his favorite childhood drama just to see his beloved character's face on the screen. One evening, seeking relief from the headache induced by Satan's latest chaos, Sitri went to a bar. While massaging his forehead and groaning after a phone call with an agent, he heard a clink next to him.

Looking up, he nearly choked from the shock. There you were, sitting next to him with a friendly but concerned expression, offering him a warm cup of black tea. You looked exactly like his favorite character, even your mannerisms were identical. His heart pounded harder as he noticed the simple gestures you made that were the same habits you have in the drama. When you tilted your head gently in confusion at his silence, blood rushed to his face and south. Quickly, before you could leave, he grabbed your hands and, with fervent eyes and equally sweaty hands, gasped out a question for your name, struggling to breathe from the excitement and disbelief. Everything doesn't feel real but his entire body screams for him to never let go of your hands.

Juno P. Cruel 666 Orgasm

Juno had always been hailed as the best in his clan: the most handsome, the strongest, the smartest, the most talented. It was obvious that the clan elders had a favorite among the children, and it quickly became irritating to hear them constantly brag about him as if they had birthed him themselves. They would say he would never disappoint them, that he would honor the clan by joining politics or taking over the family's massive military manufacturing business. Juno hated it. He wished that some of his relatives would hate him enough to challenge his position. What baffled him even more was how his cousins could respect and look up to him despite the unfair comparisons. He liked them and wanted them to succeed, but he wished they would show some dissatisfaction with the situation.

Juno had always admired Satan's powerful aura and leadership. Joining his gang was an act of defiance, but the elders dismissed it as a childish tantrum, saying he would get his act together eventually. Juno felt ridiculous for harboring anger when he was the privileged one, handed everything on a golden platter without effort. From home to school, it was the same. There was even a sizable fan club dedicated to him since middle school, which grew when he became a guitarist in a band. While they rarely bothered him, it was embarrassing when their actions affected bystanders. He never knew how to explain to his friends why he had to apologize for his fan club's behavior. Despite this, he couldn't dislike them; many were good people if you ignored their fixation on him. The club leader even introduced him to his long-time obsession: a novel about an idol group that debuted from an idol survival show. The group had been involved in many controversies since its debut and lost more than half its initial members. However, with the help of their new manager and staff, they turned their situation around and fought their way to the top of the industry.

The novel was compelling, showcasing the intricate sides of the idol world with a great cast of characters and dynamics. Juno's favorite character is the manager who helps the struggling group, sticking by them through thick and thin and giving them a chance to succeed in a harsh environment. He read the novel dozens of times, never getting the urge to throw it away, even when it became worn from being hastily packed into his bag. At some point, he ran away from home with only his clothes, personal items, and the novel when it was announced he would officially be the next head of the business. He drove his motorcycle aimlessly until it carried him to his closest friend's house. Zagan found him sitting outside his family antique store, finally calming down from the adrenaline rush.

Zagan and his grandfather offered to house Juno temporarily until he graduated and found his own place. Juno was grateful and content to stay with Zagan's family, helping around until a new idol project aired on a broadcasting channel. This reminded him of the novel the feeling that it was his calling urging him every day until it led him to audition for the show. He had never experienced anything more intense. Compared to other trainees, he was like a fish out of water. His core beliefs and confidence were shattered countless times by online haters, behind-the-scenes producers, instructors evaluating the trainees' skills, or his endlessly talented peers, some even four years younger than him. It was hard, even with support from his fans, but the situation only made him cling to the novel like a lifeline. He devoured every letter to ground himself, gripping the manager's advice as if he were there with them, following their lead to survive through sleepless nights.

Juno succeeded in the end. His stage name, Ppyong, reached the top spot, and he became the face of the group due to his large popularity and underdog story. Many broadcasting shows wanted to invite him and the group, his gag jokes became viral hits, and the group's songs became international sensations. They faced many baseless controversies from antis, and smear campaigns from his clan, or by the elders and his parents. As well as terrible management teams, and an old-fashioned PR team, but they pushed through. Juno almost built a shrine for the novel since he sometimes relying on the manager's advice and knowledge to navigate group meetings and problems. He was always jealous of how the idol group in the story had the manager with them, and the bitter feeling only intensified each time he reread the story. Even his teammates joked about his obsession in interviews.

He could only cry when he saw you sitting across from him during a fan meeting, gifting him a small box of his favorite snack, Ferrero Rocher. Through his tears and snot, he noticed your surprise and fussing over him in the soft, sweet tone he had dreamed of hearing for years. He wanted to reach out, to take your hands and feel their warmth, but with the eyes watching and the risk of jealous fans targeting you, he restrained himself. He gave a half lie, put on his usual cheery attitude, and sneakily wrote down his number and a meeting location on the exclusive merch you gave him to sign. He drank in your beautiful, blushing face as he winked at you when you noticed.

[clouds-by-me]

𝓞𝓱 𝓽𝓸 𝔀𝓲𝓼𝓱, 𝓾𝓹𝓸𝓷 𝓪 𝓼𝓱𝓸𝓸𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓻

Chapters; [Nav] Part 1[Clear skies] [Next] Warnings; Cult themes{if you squint}, mentioned abandonment An|This lil series is based on my idea for sagau which you may find here

High above the sky, a being descends into the world. From a golden star they fly, everyone across Teyvat can see the shining glow the star makes. And everyone stops and stares in awe as they began to realize what this could mean for their world.

Joy, absolute joy fills every human and humanoid soul in Teyvat.

"The creator! They have returned! May our creator bless our souls and being of the day!" Excited cheers and chants course throughout the land as they watch the star that was believed to be their beloved creator who textbooks and stories told of.

One of the many upon millions of souls who caught a sight of the marvelous glow was a bond traveler and their short white haired traveling companion.

"Look Traveler! The creator has descended!" The shorter flying friend cheered as she pointed to t he star. The traveler looks to their friend with a raised brow and a clearly confused expression on their face.

"The creator?" They ask "Paimon how come I’m just now hearing of this creator person?" The traveler asks as the two walk on a grassy path. Paimon looks to her traveling friend with such a disrespected face and looks as if she could strangle her clueless friend on the spot.

"Paimon has told you about The Creator! Remember? All the stories about our Creator ascending from our world and it's prophesied for them to return on a bright glowing star that will brighten Teyvats sky the same way the Sun would? Have you not been paying attention to Paimon?" A sense a guilt washes over the traveler as they look over their friends pain stricken face.

"Of course I've been listening to you, Paimon. I just...forgot. Yeah...I forgot." The obvious lie satisfied Paimon enough for her to believe her companion as she sighed.

"Paimon just doesn't understand how you don't know who The Creator is! Paimon hasn't been the only one to talk about them... " The Traveler just shrugged their shoulders stepping over a fallen branch that more likely than not, fell from a large tree.

"Well then Paimon will tell you about them again, what kind of travel guide would Paimon be if Paimon knowingly let you not know who The Creator is? " she paused for a moment looking to see in which direction the star was landing. The star was going East, while they were moving West, and deeper into a grassy land.

Long, long ago a being floated in the sky, all alone and with no one to share any company with. They were something that most would assume was lonely. So to fill the whole that the emptiness left they made somewhere to call home, a land that was large and vast, one that had its own design and could make its own destiny. They made elements that would reside in the world, each of which would reflect a different emotion and feeling of theirs. However, though they made many, they knew that only some would last the longest. Content. Wrath. calm. Loyalty. Happy. Wretched. Tired.

They lived on the world they made with their own feelings beside them, but for some reason they still could feel that empty feeling that wouldn't be hugged away. So they thought to make something else. Something that wouldn't be entirely like them. They would make humans that would be similar to them, but none would look like them. And so that's how the people of Teyvat was made. From there they lived on Teyvat with their creations, everything was peaceful. They were loved and worshipped. The people of Teyvat built them their own sanctuary with a throne made of Gold and and other shiny or prized items. Shrines and statues of them were made and regulatory were prayed at. Offerings were left for the Creator aswell. Their own emotions had chosen successors which would be known as Archons. The world was at peace. Then, on a day that seemed too dark and gloomy to be true, the oh so great Creator disappeared. Seeming to have been wiped from the face of Teyvat. The only thing left from them was a hand written note that said; To my dear world, one that I will always be with. I will return soon. Please do not miss me to much for I won't be gone forever. When I return, I will come from the sky, on a bright star. And a week exactly from my return it will be my birthday, so please be well prepared. This is not goodbye for I as your Creator will always be watching over you. All of you, my darling creations. With much love, Creator After they left the world became something anew. Became something so different from when they were here. The change caused wars to brake out, Teyvat to shift. Now no more then seven centuries pasted to make Teyvat into what it is known as now...

"And so the land of Teyvat grew independent, longing for the day our Creator would return..." Paimon concluded the story. The took a few seconds to process all the information they'd just been given. Just as the traveler opened their mouth to speak their ears twitched at the sound of a soft yet raspy voice. The voice gave the traveler a greeting without introducing themselves and calling the Traveler by their name. This made the blond quite confused. Hearing their own name after had been called by their title for so long felt foreign to them.

"Who are you? Show yourself." The Traveler demanded. Paimon looked at the Traveler with questioning gaze. "Uh, Traveler?... Who are you talking to? Did you hear something?" Panic began to course through both of their bodies. Who was this Traveler hearing?

Were they even hearing anybody?

[jinhyun]

↬part two

"then I think about summer, all the beautiful times

i watched you laughin' from the passenger's side"

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

genre: written series, angst, fluff, friends to lovers to exes to lovers, she fell first but he fell harder, yearning, mutual pining, non-idol au, baker!y/n, movie producer!hyunjin.

word count: 11.3k

warnings: y/n has self-sabotaging tendencies, cursing, mentions of alcohol, eventual smut, mature content, MINORS DNI!!!

tag list: open. send me an ASK to be a part of it, otherwise i might miss it. i will only be adding people who are willing to reblog the chapters and/or comment on them, because it does take time out of my day to tag everyone and likes or straight up cricket noises do nothing for me in return if i'm honest.

a/n: helloo, it's been a long time but here we are again with a new part. this turned out longer than i expected and i apologise, but i wanted to mainly show how these two got together and how it was that things started off for them, as well as how the dynamic of their friend group used to be before everything went down. in other words, and as you can see in the verse of the song i quoted, this part's gonna be more on the fluffy side (but not completely lol), so i hope you enjoy this small part of their story!

feedback is very dearly appreciated<3

You had never been a big fan of packing, but you were quite excited about the trip with your friends the next day. To be honest, you did not used to be a big fan of camping either, until that first year in college when summer came and Jeongin mentioned this one place he and his family used to go camping when he was little.

Everyone was so excited about it that you couldn't say no. Seungmin wouldn't have let you miss out on it and abandon him anyway.

And, in the end, you were glad you hadn't stayed home instead. It turned out to be a really precious bonding time for all of you, to the point that you all agreed to make it a summer vacation tradition — every single year of college, without missing a beat, all eleven of you would drive outside the city and ventour into the forest to have what you liked to call your much needed healing time.

Although the entirety of your friend group had graduated college last year, you had promised to keep making time for your yearly camping trip.

Minji hadn't been able to keep that promise that particular year, given she got an internship in the States and had left a little over a month and a half before summer started. She had promised over and over before leaving that she would most definitely make it next year, and you were all counting on that.

You were sad that she wouldn't make it, for now you would only have Hyejin to fight the potentially annoying male species you'd be hanging out with.

And there was also the fact that you thought Hyunjin wouldn't feel like going anymore. Sure, he would go, for he had promised and he loved spending time with all of you, but a part of you believed he wouldn't be the same since Minji wouldn't be there — that he wouldn't be as eager about the trip as he always was.

It was the way he hugged her and visibly didn't want to let go when you had all gone to send her off and she was about to walk through security. After witnessing that, you had convinced yourself that Hyunjin wouldn't be himself until she came back.

You had decided to give him space. You knew you'd be the same if you ever lost Seungmin, and that without being in love with him. 

It would be good for you, too. Giving Hyunjin space and letting him find himself without his beloved best friend meant not seeing him for a while, and therefore, finally being able to focus on moving on from your stupid crush on him.

Only that you wanting to give him space didn't exactly mean he wanted to take that space away from you. So you knew when not even a week after Minji's departure he was calling you up to hang out.

Most of your friends would be there, minus Felix and Hyejin, who had already made plans alone, so you accepted. It had started out just like that, at least — hanging out with your group of friends, the way you always had. But now his attention was only on you, and his eyes would oh-so-naturally fix on you like it was their default target.

It didn't stop there. Hanging out with everyone else yet only focusing on you turned into making plans for just the two of you. You had been ecstatic the first time he asked you out — as friends, of course. He had a shitty day at work and wanted to go out for some coffee, but he didn't feel like being around a large group of people. You accepted in a heartbeat, so happy about getting to spend some time alone with him that you completely forgot about the whole 'getting over him' goal you had going on.

So happy to finally get the attention you wanted from him, that you didn't stop for one second to think whether he would be asking you to get some coffee with him if Minji were still here.

But it didn't matter, because one coffee date turned into two, and then two turned into three. Friendly dates turned into 'oh, maybe this is not so friendly' ones. Sunset walks turned into watching movies at either one of your places. Late night calls on the days you didn't get to see each other turned into texting all throughout the day, every day; which led to getting goodnight and good morning text messages with definitely-not-so-friendly hearts attached to them.

Just like that, Hyunjin was just as eager as every other year to go on this trip. And you? God, you couldn't wait for the day to arrive so you could spend even more time with him. You were mainly expectant of the bonfire at night — you had always loved the way the fire illuminated his factions from afar. He always managed to look extra cozy and your heart would flutter with every single glimpse. This year, though, you hoped you'd get to sit next to him, and maybe, if you were lucky enough, you'd get to share a blanket with him; as childish as it sounded.

Your daydreaming got interrupted by your phone buzzing on your night table, making you jump from your bed to pick it up and then feel your heart do a backflip when you read Hyunjin's name on the screen.

Fixing your hair as fast as you could and making sure your face looked presentable enough for him to see, you answered his video call. 

"Hey, cutie" he greeted as soon as your face was visible on the screen.

You smiled timidly, feeling the heat reach your cheeks at the sound of that simple pet name. "You do realise it's midnight, don't you?"

"You answered anyway" he smirked triumphantly, earning a roll of eyes from you. "Why? Did I wake you?"

"No," you shook your head, looking down to your packed bag on your bed. "I was kinda going through everything I needed to pack, to make sure I won't forget anything".

"Well, in case you forgot to pack mosquito repellent like last year, I'm glad to inform you I've kindly packed some for you".

A small, breathy laugh escaped your mouth. "Why, thank you" you brought a dramatic hand to your chest. "Did I really traumatize you last year for that to be the first thing to come to mind when packing for me?"

"I wouldn't say traumatized…" he mumbled, looking down to what you guessed was his bag, as he unzipped it. "But you did make me so fucking worried when you came out of your tent that morning all covered in mosquito bites, so…"

Watching him show the repellent bottle to the camera, you couldn't help the throaty laugh that ran past your mouth this time, hearing him follow along the moment the sound you made reached his ears.

"You really didn't have to…"

"Did you remember to pack it this time?" he tested you.

"No, but—but," you quickly emphasized at the sight of his daring eyes. "Minnie always brings some. I was just too lazy to go up to his tent at night when I realised I hadn't asked him for it last year. I didn't think it would be that bad".

"Well, now you've got your own personal bottle of it" he pointed out, stuffing it back into his bag. "So no need to go to his tent if you forget to ask him for it again".

Too enchanted by that thoughtful act of service of his, you didn't realise you were staring until he blushed and cleared his throat.

"What?" he shyly asked.

"Huh?" you snapped out of it.

"I don't know, I… you weren't like, saying anything and—"

"Oh, no, I just…" you felt your cheeks burn once again. "Thank you. You're cute".

He laughed breathily, almost inaudibly. "I'm cute?"

"You know what I mean" you glared.

"I'd like to think you mean something else, though…"

You needed to take a deep, rather shaky, breath at that. Keeping yourself composed was not an easy thing to do when he said things like that.

"So, um… What were you calling for?"

He shrugged, letting you get away with your change of subject and lying back on his mattress. "Just wanted to talk to you".

"At midnight?" you raised an eyebrow.

"Got a problem with it?"

"Not really," you chuckled. "But we're seeing each other in a couple of hours, in case you forgot".

"Oh, I'm well aware of it," he nodded, tiredly placing an arm over his eyes. "Still wanted to talk to you before going to bed".

"Clingy" you teased.

The smile that curved up the corners of his plump lips made you wish you were there with him, lying your head on his chest and playing with his hair, instead of having to settle down for seeing him through a screen.

"It's gonna be a different trip this time around, huh?" you mumbled after a few seconds in which silence had taken over.

"Yeah…" he agreed quietly, removing his arm from his face and lying on his side. "It's gonna be weird without Minji".

You hummed in response. "I'll only have Hyejin to fight you guys now, and that's when she and Lix aren't all over each other".

"You'll have me, though" he smiled innocently.

You snorted. "Please, you'd drop me in a heartbeat to join the guys when they pick on me".

"That is so not true" he argued, squinting his eyes at you.

"I guess we'll see what happens when the time comes," you taunted him. "You think you'll still be able to have as much fun?"

"You mean without Minji?"

You nodded silently, bracing yourself for the answer you didn't want to know yet had not been able to stop yourself from asking about.

"Sure," he nodded confidently, making your heart feel at ease. "I've got you, it's gonna be just as fun".

"You think so?" you whispered.

"Of course!" he reassured you. "Let's go in the same car tomorrow, we can sit together and share earphones".

"I'm taking Changbin's car" you pointed out.

"Cool," he nodded. "I'll let him know I'm taking his too, then".

"No but, you know what that means, right?"

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Not really…"

You chuckled. "It means he'll make me go on the passenger seat so I can lead the way for him, since he always seems to miss the entrance to the camping site".

"Can't he have someone else to do it?"

"He doesn't really trust any of the guys when it comes to giving directions," you shook your head. "And I respect him for it, honestly. Last time we had Felix give out directions we nearly ended up in Busan".

He puffed his cheeks cutely, in a way that had your heart melting in a second. "Good thing Airpods are a thing then. We can still share".

"And miss Binnie's carpool?"

"You know what, if you hate me just say so".

A throaty laugh escaped your mouth at his salty remark, staring at him through the screen in such a loving way that for a second there you feared he would realise your feelings for him.

"I guess we can share Airpods" you rolled your eyes in amusement, having him happily laugh under his breath. "Don't be too surprised when I start singing along to whatever Binnie's playing on the radio, though".

"I will feel slightly neglected but I get it" he sighed overdramatically.

Covering the yawn coming out of your mouth with your hand, you sleepily stared at him on the screen. "We should go to sleep now…"

"Are you trying to get rid of me now?"

"I'm sleepy..."

"But you look so cute like that" he cooed.

"It's nearly one in the morning, Hwang Hyunjin" you tried your best to sound stern and hide your smile. "We leave at seven".

"Alright," he sighed once more, closing his eyes. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow then?"

You nodded, a small smile making its way on your face. "See you tomorrow, Hyunie".

He smiled blissfully. "See you tomorrow, cutie".

-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡

"Can we stop to get some food?" Seungmin asked from the backseat.

You laughed over Changbin's heavy sigh next to you. It had only been half an hour since you left Seoul, and there was still another hour to go, yet you couldn’t say you were entirely surprised over your best friend’s request.

The trip had been smooth so far, way too smooth — Changbin and Jeongin loudly singing to any song that came on the playlist being the only sense of disruption in the car. You remained silently staring out the window, lightly bopping your head to the beat of the music coming from the Airpod you were sharing with Hyunjin. It was a funny contrast, having Binnie and Innie singing at the top of their lungs to nothing but upbeat songs, while Hyunjin and you listened to slower, calmer ones and quietly stared at the passing scenery outside.

The somewhat balanced atmosphere you all had managed to create was just bound to be disrupted by your best friend at some point.

"I asked you all if you wanted to stop for food before hitting the highway and you said you wanted to have breakfast at the camping site".

Seungmin pouted, childishly sinking against his seat and crossing his arms over his chest. "I wanted to live the full camping experience, but I take it back now, I'm hungry".

"Well, too bad because I'm not stopping until we get there".

Hearing Seungmin whine behind you in what sounded more like a tantrum, you couldn't help but laugh, staring at him through the rearview mirror before your eyes unconsciously fixed on Hyunjin by the window. He was laughing over your best friend's scene too, and his eyes were already on you. You held his stare through the reflection for a moment, enjoying the sight of his smile and the sound of his giggle before you looked down in a poor attempt to calm your racing heart.

Clearing your throat, you reached down to the backpack by your feet and rummaged through it until you found the snacks you had packed that morning before heading out, precisely in case something like this happened.

Without a word, you reached your hand behind your seat, giggling to yourself when you felt the pack of cookies being snatched from your hold not even a second later.

"You're the best, I swear to God" Seungmin managed to say with his mouth already full. "You better be selling these at our coffee shop once we open it".

You chuckled. "I will".

"Wait, those are homemade?" Jeongin asked from the middle seat.

"Mhm…" you nodded, leaning slightly back when he peeked his head through your seat.

"You have more?"

"Take some from Seungm—"

"No way, they're mine" Seungmin growled.

Rolling your eyes, you leaned down to your backpack once more, defeatedly looking for another bag of cookies you had thankfully packed as well.

"These are double chocolate chips," you let Jeongin know as you handed them to him. "Please share them with Hyunjin in case he wants some".

"I do want some!" he stated from behind, having your amused eyes instinctively fix on him through the rearview mirror, right as he eagerly dug his hand into the bag.

"And what about me?" Changbin whined. "You all are lucky I care about your lives and can't just turn around and snatch them from you right now".

You chuckled, reaching your hand behind your seat, and opening your palm. "Minnie".

The sound of his name coming out of your mouth was all it took for a single cookie to be reluctantly placed on it.

"Here," you called Changbin's attention, motioning for him to open his mouth.

"Is it red velvet?" he asked, opening his mouth and taking a bite regardless, as he was ready to eat whatever it was you decided to feed him. 

As soon as he tasted them, he dramatically threw his head back and hit the border of the steering wheel.

"Fuck! They're so good".

You laughed, lightheartedly shaking your head at his reaction. Not even ten seconds later, he was opening his mouth again and leaning slightly over your side for you to feed him the remaining of the cookie you had managed to get from Seungmin.

Having fed him and watching him happily munch on it, you leaned back against your seat, closing your eyes to go back to listening to Hyunjin's playlist like you had been doing before this whole cookies situation took place — only for Traitor by Olivia Rodrigo to start playing.

Almost jumping from your seat, you turned around, staring at Hyunjin in utter disbelief while your jaw comically dropped.

"You did not just do that" you accused him.

He chuckled, staring down with a proud smirk at the unlocked phone in his hands as he seemed to look for another song. His point had already been made.

"What happened?" Jeongin wondered.

"Nothing, Hyunjin's just an idiot" you replied, tauntingly squinting your eyes at Hyunjin, only for his smile to grow.

"At least I'm not a traitor" his smile turned into a cynical smirk.

"A traitor why?" Seungmin's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Who's a traitor?" Changbin joined in.

"It's nothing" Hyunjin brushed it off, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Oh, so you guys have reached the internal jokes stage now?" 

"Shut up…" you felt the heat reach your face, turning around to sit properly and look ahead to the road.

Olivia’s voice stopped being heard, and it was replaced by Lauv’s, as I Like Me Better began to play. You looked down to your lap and tried to contain your smile. It had been ages since you last listened to that song, and a part of you, the delusional one that was head over heels for Hyunjin, wanted to believe he was dedicating it to you right then.

Looking out the window when you managed to conceal your blissfulness and everyone seemed to already be back in their own world, you decided to just focus on the road and stop giving too much thought to the song choice of his throughout the ride. He was using a playlist after all.

Nevertheless, you couldn’t help your mind from wandering and daydreaming all the way to the camping site, making it hard for you to focus on your duty as the designated human GPS.

You weren't sure if Changbin was right about you and Hyunjin having reached the 'internal jokes stage' yet, but you realised later that day that you had definitely reached some kind of complicity. You couldn't put your finger on when along the journey of the two of you growing closer it happened, but now your eyes would naturally lock whenever someone said anything slightly funny or even questionable. It was as if you wanted, needed, to share even the most minimal and mundane of things with each other.

And you hadn't noticed it was that obvious to everyone else until Hyejin pointed it out when you were setting up your tent later that afternoon. To say you were struggling a little bit was an understatement; it was a tent for three, and usually Minji was there to help set it up as well. You would definitely have some extra room that night.

Still, as focused on finding the correct corner of the fabric to stake it to the ground as she was, Hyejin managed to bring the topic up.

"So, what's going on with you and Hyunjin?"

"What do you mean?" you frowned, letting go of the fabric you were holding onto.

"Oh, come on, I'm not blind" she squinted her eyes. "Something definitely changed between you two".

"I mean, yeah, but…" you shrugged. “We’re just closer now, I guess”.

“I’ve seen the heart eyes, Y/N”.

“As if my heart eyes for him are anything new”.

“I meant his”.

You went silent, feeling your cheeks heat up and your hands shake. To have someone else notice it, too, only made it feel more real.

“You guys need help?” Felix interrupted before you could try and say anything back.

His arm was naturally resting over Hye’s shoulders, and although she visibly appreciated the offer, she settled for an obnoxious roll of eyes.

“We’re not damsels in danger” she playfully shoved his arm off.

Felix snorted. “Maybe not but you guys are clearly struggling here”.

“I could use some help” you admitted, getting a triumphant smile from Lix before he grabbed the fabric you had let go of a minute ago and began to stake it to the ground.

“But what about our girl talk” Hyejin pouted.

“Girl talk?” Felix looked at her with furrowed eyebrows.

She nodded, and just like that his eyes went to you — realisation hitting him in a second.

“Let me guess, you guys are talking about Hyunjin”.

You nearly choked on air. “We're not”.

"We're not?" Hyejin teased you, receiving a glare from you in a heartbeat.

“Ah, you guys can go on then" Felix nodded understandingly, with a glimpse of a smirk curving up his lips. "I already know all about it anyway".

Hyejin raised both hands up in defense when your glare was once again on her. "Don't look at me, remember he's Hyunjin's best friend after all".

Lix's smirk was now on full display. "I know things neither of you two know".

"There's not much to know, though? Right?" you awkwardly fidgeted in your place. "Hyunjin doesn't talk about me, does he?"

Felix and Hyejin exchanged an incredulous look, deciding right then to just leave it there and let you figure it out on your own. They knew you well enough to know you wouldn’t believe any of it unless you heard it directly from Hyunjin; and maybe even then you would still doubt it all.

“Anyway,” Felix shrugged, going back to his previous task. “Let’s set this shit up”.

“Language!” Hyejin reprimanded him.

You laughed at the exchange, going over to Hyejin so you could work together while Felix focused on the other corner of your tent. Even though you could feel their stares on you, you were just glad the topic seemed to be over with.

-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡

Turned out that setting up a tent with Felix and Hyejin was just a call to be kicked out of it as soon as it was done, so they could take a nap inside and just like that make you their third wheel. Not like you really cared, for you took a blanket and placed it under one of the trees that were farther away from everyone. 

Lying down on it, you used your arms as a pillow while you looked up to the bright green leaves and the rays of sunshine peeking through them. You truly loved this camping site. It was quiet, with enough space for your entire group and the right amount of distance from other campers in the area.

The grass was green and abundant, the trees provided enough shadow for you not to go mad over how hot the summer weather was, and there was a lake only a five-minute walk from there. You would probably go there a little before the sun set; everyone seemed to be too immersed in their own activities to propose a walk to the lake anytime soon.

Seungmin and Jeongin were still setting up their tent, as they had been too busy whining about having to set it up before to actually do it. Chan, Han and Changbin were drinking and chatting the afternoon away, after having managed to clean up and put everything from your lunch away, since they had been chosen to be on cleaning up duty by a very fair game of rock, paper, scissors. Minho was lying on a blanket a few meters from you, scrolling through his phone. Felix and Hyejin were napping; and Hyunjin… you actually had no idea where Hyunjin was.

“Wanna go to the lake?”

As if reading your thoughts, there he was, kneeling on the edge of your blanket as he patiently waited for your answer.

You tilted your head up to look at him, still a bit stunned over both his timing and his suggestion. Nevertheless, you nodded, not having to think twice before you sat up.

“Are the others coming?”

“Nah,” he shrugged, standing up and giving you a hand to help you up as well. “They said they’re going later”.

“Shouldn’t we wait for them then?” you quietly asked.

Hyunjin brought a dramatic hand up to his chest. “If you don’t wanna be alone with me just say so”.

You scoffed, acting just as offended as he was. “That’s not what I said at all?!”

“Then?” he smiled, tilting his head in the lake’s direction.

Rolling your eyes while the biggest of smiles took over your face, you followed him. He knew the way to the lake by heart, you realised, as he seemed to avoid branches you wouldn’t have noticed were there if it weren’t for him dodging them before you. Although maybe it just had to do with the fact that you were too focused on him to pay attention to your surroundings.

After five minutes in which thankfully you made it out intact, you finally reached your destination. You smiled at the view of the crystalline water and the strong reflection of the sun on it, which you had to look away from in order not to be blinded. It looked the same as every other year, and a part of you was happy it remained the same throughout the time.

“Where are you going?” Hyunjin asked, eyebrows furrowing in confusion when you started walking towards the water.

“To lie down?” you answered, in what had seemed like more of a question.

“Not here” he shook his head.

“Why not?”

“Minho and Changbin are fishing here later”.

“So?”

“So, you know how loud those two are when they get frustrated” he reminded you, walking over to you and taking your hand so he could drag you with him. “I came here to recharge”.

Too stunned over the unexpected feel of his strong yet soft hand holding yours, you didn’t even object. You simply let him take you whenever it was he wanted to take you to — heart eyes stuck to the back of his head as he led the way.

“Recharge?” you mocked him regardless.

"Yeah?" he said, as if it was obvious. "Don't you need time to be alone and recharge after being with too many people for too long?"

"It's not even dinner time yet".

"And I'm already drained".

You chuckled at his tiresome remark, but decided to just leave it at that when you reached a bunch of rocks that blocked the way.

“Where exactly are we going?” you wondered, confusedly letting go of his hand when he began to climb them.

"Come here" he called, reaching his hand out for you.

“You want to lay down on top of these rocks?” you questioned, taking his hand nonetheless and allowing him to help you up. “Like, the view might be better, but I’m pretty sure lying down on sand is way better than lying down on a bunch of hard as hell rocks”.

“Oh, hush,” he amusedly shut you up, placing a gentle hand to your back after having let you go first so he could make sure you wouldn’t slip —and that he would catch you in case you did—. “You just keep climbing up and shut that pretty mouth of yours”.

You shut your mouth; not because he told you to, but because his words sounded lovely —although taunting— enough to bring heat to your cheeks and make you forget how to speak altogether.

He could tell the way you were feeling, you realised when you heard a breathy laugh escape his mouth. He was enjoying it too much, but it was fair, considering he wanted to have that kind of effect on you.

Thankfully, the climb up the rocks wasn’t that high, otherwise the tension taking over while his hand remained on your back and his heavy breathing would faintly hit your shoulder every other second, might’ve become too overwhelming for you to survive.

As soon as you reached the top and took a seat to look around, you were confused. You weren’t sure exactly where it was that he wanted you to go to next or even where to look at once up there, so you just turned around to him with knitted eyebrows as he finished climbing up and took a seat next to you. However, after taking what felt like five seconds to catch his breath, he stood up.

“Okay, now let’s go down” he offered his hand once more to help you up.

“What? Like, to the same place we just came up from?”

He chuckled, amusedly shaking his head before he leaned down to grab your upper arm and help you up. “Will you just trust me on this?”

“I mean, you could be taking me to my deathbed right now and I wouldn’t even know”.

He rolled his eyes, carefully guiding you over to the other end of the rocks, so you could begin your two minutes journey down. “Everyone knows you’re with me right now, wouldn’t be really smart for me to murder you”.

“Reassuring” you smiled cynically, earning a throaty laugh from him and a light —actually reassuring— squeeze from his hand.

Without another word, you let him help you on your way down. It was cute how focused he was on making sure you wouldn’t have trouble with it and wouldn’t get hurt, to the point he tripped at one point; thankfully only right before you reached the safety of the ground, so it didn’t really matter.

"What even is this place?" you breathily let out, turning around to finally take a look at your surroundings.

It was only then that you realised what he had meant by ‘alone’ and ‘recharging’. The place he had taken you to seemed to be another shore within the same lake; a much smaller one, which could comfortably fit around five or six people at most.

The rocks formed some kind of fence around a few meters of the lake, which was tall enough to keep people from seeing what was on the other side, and which made most of them —you included— believe that was all there was to it: Just a bunch of rocks.

Only the curious ones who were willing to climb said bunch of rocks for no apparent reason, like Hyunjin, were privileged enough to discover such a gemstone.

"I don't even know, to be honest" Hyunjin laughed, walking up to the spot close to the water where one of the rocks blocked the sun and provided some shadow. "Found it the first time we came here. Minji and I were taking a walk and I felt like climbing all the way up the rocks and came across this place. I don't think anyone knows about it".

"Well, I surely didn't" you confirmed, looking around in awe. It almost felt cozy, like a small fort you would build as a child. "You and Minji did a pretty good job at keeping it from us".

"Oh, Minji doesn't know about it".

You stopped in your tracks, almost not believing your ears. "She… she doesn't?"

"Nope," he shrugged, sitting down on the sand and patting the spot next to him for you to do the same. 

When you hesitated, visibly having a hard time believing him, he sighed.

"Why'd you even believe I told her?"

"I mean… Wasn’t she with you?” you questioned, finally sitting down next to him.

He shook his head no. “She didn’t want to climb up with me. I mean, she was wearing a dress, so I guess it’s understandable” a chuckle abandoned his lips, and a bittersweet smile crept up in yours over the fact that he even remembered what she was wearing on the first day you ever came here years ago. “But yeah, I saw this place from all the way up and just kept it to myself. I could use some peace of mind during these trips”.

“You say it like we’re chaotic as hell” you laughed.

“Aren’t you?” he taunted.

You playfully shoved him away. “You should really include yourself in that sentence, Hwang Hyunjin”.

“Nah, I don’t think I belong there” he denied, having a hard time holding his smile. “Which is why I kept this place all to myself this far”.

You bit your lip, concealing a smile not to show how flattered you were to be the first and only person he had ever shared this place with — for not only had he told you about it, but he had taken it upon himself to pull you away from your group of friends and take you all the way here with him.

“Minji would be so mad if she ever found out you kept this from her…”

Hyunjin shrugged, resting his head on yours and making goosebumps form on your skin. “I don’t have to share everything with her”.

“She’s your best friend, though” you pointed out.

“So?” he asked, sitting up. “Do you share everything with Seungmin?”

You stayed quiet. He had a point. You did mainly share everything with him, from your achievements to your failures, and from your happiness to your sadness. But there were still a few things you kept to yourself, like the way you had felt about Hyunjin all along. Yes, he knew you had a bit of a crush on him, and he also knew you had grown closer since Minji left, but your actual feelings for the guy next to you, he had no idea about.

Your feelings for Hyunjin were something you had decided to keep to yourself and deal with on your own. There was too much at stake, and you wanted to believe you’d have enough control over the situation in case things went south. As long as you didn’t tell anyone, even if it was obvious in their eyes, you liked to believe you would be able to just forget about it all at the snap of your fingers.

Hyunjin nodded to himself at your silence — unaware of what was going through your mind yet knowing that just like that he had proven his point.

“Besides, she’s a blabbermouth. She would’ve told everyone else by now”.

You snorted, looking down for a moment to hold your laughter and missing the way his eyes lit up at the sight of you. "I'm telling her you called her that".

"Ugh, don't tell me I brought a snitch to my precious secret spot" he whined, dramatically resting his head on your shoulder. "Is that all, though?"

"Hm?" 

"I was supposed to tell her because she's my best friend?"

“No, but…” you stayed quiet for a moment, pondering whether you should say what was at the tip of your tongue or not. "It's just…"

"What is it?" he straightened up, furrowing his eyebrows as he waited for your answer.

"This is such a stereotypical making out spot".

He snorted, disbelief written all over his face. "What?"

"Yeah, like, think of all the couples that have found this place at some point and used it to do their thing".

"Ew," he cringed, glaring at you right after. "You did not just ruin my favourite spot for me".

"I'm just saying," you laughed, playfully shoving away the accusatory finger of his that was pointing at you. "This is like, the perfect making out spot to bring the person you have feelings for".

"I brought you, didn't I?"

Your cheeks were hit by a rush of heat instantly, and not even lowering your head helped you hide from him what his words had done to you.

"Stop…" you lightly shoved him away with your shoulder. "I guess it caught me off guard that you didn't bring her here at some point since you've always been in love with her".

"In love with her?" He looked incredulous; you just nodded. "I'm not, though?"

"Hyunjin…" you murmured, almost begging for him not try and fool you.

"I haven't always been in love with her…" he mumbled, looking down for a second before his eyes locked with yours. "Definitely am not in love with her anymore".

You smiled bittersweetly. "Right".

"I'm not, Y/N" he reassured you.

"Since when?" you wondered.

He said nothing — simply staring into your eyes was enough for you to have your answer.

Whatever was going on between the two of you was unspoken, recent, and therefore he couldn't give you a proper answer without having it turn out as a confession and risking scaring you away.

He wasn't confident enough to verbally confess the feelings he had caught for you this past month yet, but the sincerity in his eyes had managed to give you the answer you were looking for.

Since she left.

Since you and him grew closer together and something changed in the way he saw you.

"Is a month or so really enough to get over your best friend?" you mumbled.

"It's not like I was head over heels in love with her" he mindlessly played with the sand under his hands. "It was just… a little crush".

You laughed under your breath, shaking your head rather weakly as you laid your back on the sand — mentally scolding yourself for not having brought your blanket with you to lie down on.

A little crush. You should know about it. 

You were sure just a little crush wouldn't make him look at her the way he did, and it most definitely wouldn't have him unconsciously call her the most beautiful woman his eyes had ever seen.

But you were done arguing with him. In the end, it changed nothing — he did feel some type of way for her before she left; and even after she left, up until you had come up to change that now, apparently.

Besides, no matter how hard you tried to fight it, a part of you believed him. He looked at you different now. He acted different around you. And although you tried not to fall for it, deep down you knew it was already a lost battle.

Not knowing what to say nor what to feel about his advances, you closed your eyes. You could feel him staring at you for a while, yet you were too shy to acknowledge it, until he finally laid down next to you.

"Are we napping now?" Hyunjin asked, changing the topic after getting the hint about you no longer wanting to talk about the whole feelings thing.

"You said you wanted to come here to recharge, didn't you?" you smiled.

Although your eyes remained closed, you felt him smile brightly next to you. "And napping is your way of recharging?"

"Isn't it yours?"

"I just wanted to come here and spend some time with you, if I'm honest".

At that, you opened your eyes. Much to your surprise, his dark brown ones were already focused on you.

"Thank you…" you smiled sweetly.

He looked confused. "What for?"

"For trusting me with your precious secret spot" your choice of words had him rolling his eyes. "I won't tell anyone about it, I promise".

Hyunjin smiled, no longer being able to hold himself back and throwing an arm around your shoulders. You didn't fight back when he pulled you to his chest, if anything, you made yourself comfortable on it.

"In case it wasn't clear, even if you did tell someone, because I can’t really trust you with Seungmin,” his statement earned an incredulous scoff from you. “You're not allowed to come here with anyone else but me".

You chuckled, shaking your head and closing your eyes once more as you relaxed under his touch. "Would never even dream to betray you like that".

-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡

"What took you guys so long?" Chan asked as soon as you and Hyunjin arrived back.

The sun had already set a couple of minutes ago, and you were met with an already lit up bonfire while all your friends sat down around it.

You didn't even have the chance to play your late arrival off by silently sitting down until someone noticed you had finally made it back, for all their eyes were fixed on you since the second you reached your camping spot. Not even the few branches you had collected on your way back, to make it seem like you had wandered off together with the intention to collect some for the bonfire, would help you out of this situation.

Having everyone silently questioning you right then, you came to the conclusion that maybe taking a nap wasn't the brightest of your ideas — not when you were a proper five minute walk from your camping spot and hadn't set up an alarm to wake you up from the dream you were having in the arms of the person your heart felt most at peace with.

Hyunjin shrugged, refraining from giving them an actual answer as he nudged you to walk over to them and throw the thin pieces of wood you had collected into the fire, later taking a seat next to each other by it.

"You know what's funny?" Changbin spoke up next to you, with a hint of a smirk already showing on his face. "I'm pretty sure I saw them walking towards the lake, but when Minho and I got there later they were nowhere to be seen".

Once again, all eyes were on you. This time, though, you managed to see some dropped jaws.

"Did you guys get lost in the woods or something?" Han teased, rapidly moving his eyebrows up and down.

"I'm watching you, Hwang" Seungmin glared at him from the other side of the bonfire, earning a laugh from all of you.

Hyunjin raised both hands up, pleading innocence. "I did nothing".

"Did Y/N do something then?" Changbin teased.

You rolled your eyes, pressing a finger to your mouth "Quiet".

"Is that a yes?"

"Oh, my God" you whined, covering your face with both hands in embarrassment.

“Okay, okay. Leave the lovebirds alone” Hyejin came to your rescue — kind of.

“Have you guys had dinner yet?” you tried to change the subject.

“Nice save” Minho saluted you. “But no, we wanted to hang out here for a bit before. It got pretty cold”.

You nodded, silently. As if on cue, a light, cold breeze hit your body, making you hug yourself instinctively before you leaned closer to the fire and reached your hands out in hopes to get warmer.

Your eyes snapped back towards Hyunjin when you felt him leave your side, watching him go to the tent he was sharing with Lix and get something you could not quite tell apart from the distance, given how dark it was over there. When he got close enough to the bonfire again for you to see what he was holding, however, you smiled.

Before the words ‘thank you’ could even leave your mouth, he was placing a blanket over your shoulders and sitting down next to you. 

“Anyone else?” Hyunjin asked, holding out a spare blanket he had brought just in case.

“Me!” Hyejin raised her hand from three seats away, reaching for the blanket Hyunjin was now offering her and then throwing it around her body — in the matter of just one second managing to look like a burrito.

“Gotta step up your game, Felix” Han called him out, shaking his head in feigned disappointment.

“Fuck off” he glared at him, only for his girlfriend to laugh next to him and pull him into her embrace.

Felix smiled in adoration, resting his head on Hyejin’s while he made himself cozy under the blanket she had just shared with him.

“I just got called single in like five different languages” Han sulked.

You laughed at the scene playing in front of you. Well, mainly at Han and his antics, for you could only smile and stare in awe at the lovely couple cuddling right there. They were so happy. They had always been happy together, always so unproblematic, and you could only wish to ever be part of a relationship like that.

You didn’t want that with just anyone, though, and the fact that the person you wanted it with was sitting right next to you did not help your case at all. 

It was tough to be craving that much intimacy with someone who was right there, yet things weren’t clear enough between the two of you for you to just go for it.

You wanted to be able to do with Hyunijn what Hyejin had just done with Felix. You wanted to just rest your head on his shoulder and pull him into your embrace. You wanted to be close to him in every way possible, feeling his calm breathing next to you as you enjoyed the sight and warmth of the fire.

And maybe you were overthinking way too much, for sharing a blanket while camping was not that deep and it didn’t precisely have to mean anything, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to offer it to him, because, to you, it was that deep and it did mean something.

Silently staring at him as he had by now joined the new conversation you were not paying attention to, you felt your heart melt at the side view of his bright smile.

You didn't know how many minutes had gone by, but at one point you felt him shiver, and then lean towards the fire just like you had done before, as he looked for the warmth of it.

Looking down to the fluffy fabric hugging your body, you felt guilty to have taken his blanket when he clearly needed it too. You knew it was the chance you had been looking for to offer him to share it and that way cuddle him as platonically as you could, but after giving it a second thought you came to terms with the fact that you didn’t have enough courage to do so. Instead, you offered him the whole blanket.

“Huh?” Hyunjin questioned, taken aback when you took it off and handed it to him.

“You’re cold” you stated the obvious, motioning for him to take it.

“So are you” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but it’s your blanket”.

Hyunjin stayed silent for a couple of seconds, eyes going from you to the blanket in your hands and so on. Then, as if a lightbulb had just been lit up above his head, he smiled.

Taking the blanket from your hands, he threw it over your backs, making sure you’d hold onto the other end before he made himself cozier next to you.

“We can share”.

You bit your lip, lowering your head not to show the effect his actions had once more had on you. How could he make it look so simple? Just throw a blanket over your bodies, pull you closer and then say that you could share, like it was nothing?

A part of you was worried he would feel your heartbeat racing, even though your arm was the one leaning against him and not your chest. It was just beating that hard, and you grew even shyer when your eyes locked with Seungmin’s. Somehow, you felt like one look at you and Hyunjin snuggling up —if you could call it that— was all it took for him to figure everything out.

The crush you had told him about months ago, only then was confirmed right in front of his eyes not to only be one simple crush. And most definitely not a one sided one, like you had claimed it was back then.

“Something wrong?” Hyunjin asked quietly, leaning in towards your ear for only you to hear.

You shook your head no, smiling softly before turning your head to him. “Everything’s fine”.

Perfect, actually.

Hyunjin nodded, moving closer to you and hesitatingly bringing his hand up to hover your back. “Is it okay if I…”

Catching on with his intentions when he lightly tapped your back, you hummed in affirmation; tensing up for a second over the unknown feel of his hand on your waist, before you relaxed under his gentle, loving touch. You were nervous, of course, but it would've been odd for you not to ultimately feel at ease when his thumb began to draw small circles on the curve of your waist.

Maybe you got too carried away, or maybe you simply stopped worrying too much, but you found yourself resting your head on his shoulder — not even having time to doubt your own actions before his head was resting on yours.

As cliché as it was, you wished that moment would last forever. It felt so natural, like your head belonged on his shoulder and his hand belonged on your waist. Like you belonged together.

Your friends had silently agreed on not teasing you anymore; just carrying on with the conversation as if seeing you together like that was by now a daily occurrence.

Hyunjin pulled you closer, and with his lips faintly brushing the crown of your head, you began to doze off.

His phone buzzing in his pocket managed to stop you from falling asleep completely. However, he, too, was so immersed in the comfort your touch and warmth brought him, that he didn't even feel it moving directly against his body.

"Your phone" you quietly brought it to his attention.

"What?"

"Your phone's buzzing" you clarified, lightly pressing your legs to his so he could take a hint.

"Oh, right" he finally got it, earning a small laugh from you as he reached into his pocket and took his phone out. "It's Minji".

You couldn't help it, but your body tensed up.

"Minji?" Han asked quite eagerly.

"Isn't it like six A.M. over there?" Hyejin's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Hyunjin shrugged. "She's Facetiming, hold on".

Watching him sit up straight and fix his hair right before taking the call, you moved slightly away from him, putting some distance in between the two of you. That small action of yours didn't go unnoticed by Hyunjin, but he decided to say nothing. It must've been nothing after all, right?

"Hey!" He greeted her cheerfully as soon as her face was on the screen.

"Hello~" Minji answered rather cutely. Your stomach twisted. "How's everyone?"

"Everyone's okay, they're all here, actually" Hyunjin let her know.

That simple statement was all it took for your seats to be taken over by all your friends — all ten of you trying your best to fit on the small screen that Hyunjin was struggling to keep as far as possible from his face, so that everyone could have a look.

Staring at your friend through the screen, you could tell she was just waking up. She was at the other side of the world, after all. But even then, when her hair was still messy and her face was completely bare, she managed to look as endearing as ever. 

She looked happy. Tired, of course, given what time it was over there, but happy nonetheless. That same welcoming smile you knew so well was still intact, even while she was being attacked with questions from the entire friend group.

You tried your best not to look at Hyunjin all throughout the conversation. You knew it wouldn't do you any good to see him looking at her — not when you already knew the oh-so-special way he did. That one look in his eyes he only had when it came to her.

You also tried your best not to think of how usual these video calls were. They were best friends, for fucks sake, and they were half a world apart from each other on top of that. If it were you and Seungmin, you knew you'd be calling on a daily basis.

But Hyunjin and Minji were different. And the selfish part of you didn't want to think he was Facetiming her every single day when that seemed to be your thing now.

As stupid as you knew it was, you couldn't stop your head from hurting right then; all because of your own intrusive thoughts.

"We miss you!" Han shouted.

"Yeah, you should call the whole group more often" Chan accused her.

"Oh my God, you should show us around the filming set sometime" Felix excitedly requested. 

"Have you met any celebrities?" Jeongin asked.

And the fact that everyone was talking so loudly and eagerly to the phone, as if its microphone wasn't working or something, was definitely not helping your abrupt headache.

"One by one, people. Please" she joked. "I miss you all so much and I will get to you in a minute, but I called Jinnie, so…"

"She said priorities," Minho joked with a roll of eyes. "Let's leave before our dignity hits rock bottom, guys".

Chuckling at his salty remark and watching everyone stand up so they could either go back to their seats or straight up go somewhere else after the bonfire bonding had been interrupted, you hesitated for a moment. Ultimately, however, you stood up too — not being able to decipher the look Hyunjin gave you when you were no longer sitting next to him, and your end of the blanket remained unattended.

Without much thought, you went to the place that felt the most familiar and, therefore, the most comfortable — Seungmin. He was back on his previous seat, mindlessly scrolling through his Twitter feed when you took a seat beside him.

He didn't even budge when you placed your head on his shoulder, silently reading whatever Tweet he decided to stop at. 

"You should've brought the blanket" he said plainly when a breeze of cold air hit your bodies, eyes not leaving his phone. "It's cold".

You snorted. "It's Hyunie's blanket. You can go get another one to your tent if you're that cold".

"Just go ask your boyfriend for it, he's giving it to you in a heartbeat".

Your jaw dropped at his nonchalant statement, not minding holding back when you pushed him with both palms and almost made him fall off his chair.

"You're a menace" he accused you, holding onto your upper arm for dear life.

"You started it" you defended yourself.

"Just go get a blanket!" He motioned towards his tent.

"It's your tent, you go".

"Fine! But I swear to God I won't be shar—"

"Um…" Hyunjin's low voice brought your attention to him.

He was awkwardly standing in front of you, folded blanket in his hands while his eyes travelled from you to Seungmin, almost as if pondering his next move.

In the end, they focused on Seungmin.

"You think you can, um…" he nervously cleared his throat. "Leave us to it for a bit?"

Your heart skipped a beat, and your eyes fixed on Seungmin, who was already squinting his eyes in your direction.

The things he had to do for you and the sake of your romantic life.

Standing up without another word and with a quick glance to Hyunjin, he went over to Jeongin and Chan, who were busy chugging two of the beer cans you had no idea were there to begin with. Next to them was Hyejin, who was now holding Hyunjin’s phone as you supposed she was the next to talk to Minji one-on-one.

You frowned. You would’ve thought Minji’s conversation with Hyunjin would go on for ten minutes at least. Had it only been two minutes? Three at most?

Hyunjin took a seat next to you, placing the blanket around your body. His hands remained on your shoulders, tenderly massaging them before he rested his head on yours. You pouted, leaning into his body and burying your face on the crook of this neck.

"Why'd you leave?" he asked.

You shrugged, unintentionally tickling his neck and making goosebumps show up on his skin.

"Hm?" he pushed it, gently nudging you.

"Didn't wanna interrupt" you replied quietly.

"Interrupt?"

"Yeah, like… Minji called you, so…"

"She just wanted to tell me about what happened at the studio today and the instructions the director was giving, you know, to give me some tips since I aim to get there at some point".

You smiled weakly, being reminded of how even when it came to their careers they were a better fit than you and him. An actress and a film producer. It was a match made in Heaven.

"It's not like we were talking about anything top secret" he tried to reassure you when you wouldn't reply.

"No, but…" you sighed. "I don't know".

“Tell me”.

“It would’ve just… We were being way too cozy, and she was watching, I didn’t want to have her think that we’re—you know…”

Hyunjin frowned, looking down to his fidgeting hands on his lap. “But we are, though… Aren’t we?”

You looked up at him in surprise, and he could feel his heart flutter at the sight of your shining, incredulous eyes.

“We are?” you asked in a whisper.

“Do you…” he bit his lip, silently looking for the right words. “Do you really think I’m in love with her?”

You shrugged, sitting up and leaning away from him.

“Y/N…”

“I don’t know what you want me to tell you, it’s always been so obvious”.

“It was nothing, though”.

You snorted at that, shaking your head in disbelief while you focused on one of the trees in front.

“I mean it,” he reassured you, cupping your chin and guiding your face in his direction, giving you no choice but to look at him and feel your breath get caught in your throat over how little distance separated your face from his. “Whatever silly crush I had on her is gone by now”.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me”.

“But I do,” he disagreed. “I do need to explain myself if it’s gonna jeopardize my relationship with you”.

“R-Relationship?” you whispered again, this time almost inaudibly.

"I mean, not like—I know we don't," he panicked, and you couldn't help but smile ever so faintly at the way his eyes opened wider than usual and his cheeks became a bright pink. "I'm just—in the future maybe, like…"

"Like…" you trailed off, giving him the little push he needed to go on.

Hyunjin took a deep breath. His hands were no longer cupping your face, but nervously shoved into his pockets instead. Suddenly, he had lost all the sudden confidence he previously had when it came to making it clear to you that he no longer wanted anything to do with Minji.

But he wanted things to be clear between the two of you. He wanted you to know that whatever it was he once felt for her, was now gone.

He wanted you to know he wanted you.

So, earning back every ounce of confidence he once had, he took his hands out of his pockets and held yours in them — his thumbs ever so tenderly caressing your soft skin, staring at them with the softest of smiles before his eyes went back up to your already elated ones.

“I like you, Y/N” he confessed. “I really, really like you".

"You do?" you murmured, not believing your ears.

"Mhm…" he nodded, feeling shyness hit him like a truck all over again yet refusing to let it take control over him. "I want to give us a try, I want to be with you, and… I just, I don’t want you to believe I'm stuck on Minji when I'm not".

You looked down to your lap and simply nodded, silently — visibly enough for him to know you heard him, yet not confidently enough for him to think you trusted him.

Everything he had just said was exactly what you wanted to hear. He wanted to be with you. Not her, you. He liked you, and wanted to give your relationship a try. Then why was your gut not allowing you to feel as happy as you should be?

"Can you please say something?" he whispered, nervously biting on his bottom lip.

"I, I don't…"

"You don't like me back?" he assumed; defeat clear in his eyes.

"No, I do!" you clarified embarrassingly fast, not even getting to feel ashamed about it after seeing the way his whole face lit up. "I do. I do like you".

He laughed under his breath, blissfully — thumbs still drawing circles in the palms of your hands, only this time it felt playful.

"What's stopping us then?" Hyunjin asked.

You shrugged, letting out a sigh as you looked up to the sky. "It's not even been two months since she left…"

He sighed heavily, cupping your face with one of his hands and making you look at him once more. "I know it seems like too little time, but I fell so hard so fast for you, Y/N. I can't even understand it either, but I did".

"What about when she comes back…"

"Does it matter?" He tilted his head in confusion. "I'll be with you, nothing's gonna change".

"She's coming back in five months," you pointed out, a small smirk curving up your lips. "You really think we'll last that long?"

Hyunjin giggled, resting his forehead on yours and smoothly pulling you closer to him by firmly placing a hand on your back.

"I think we'll last longer than that, actually".

That did it for you. Those confident words coming out of his mouth, his lips only inches from yours and his strong hand on your back, were all it took for you to shut down every rational part of your mind and to let your heart take over instead.

You wanted to be with him, and he wanted to be with you. So what if he used to have feelings for your mutual friend; it didn’t have to be so complicated.

And maybe, in the long run, that had been your biggest mistake. Pushing all your worries aside and just diving into your feelings for him. Rushing into things. Letting go of your inhibitions that night and never looking back from a decision you made in the heat of the moment.

Your biggest mistake was forgetting about the reason you were sitting all the way across from your previous seats around the bonfire to begin with, and why Hyunjin had come up to you in order to comfort you and reassure you of the way he felt for you.

The reason of all your insecurities was currently at the other side of the world, and Hyunjin was all the way over here with you. It was just that easy to forget about your concerns when the cause of them was nowhere near. Especially when the person your heart was crazy about was holding you so close.

Chuckling at those words that had made you risk it all, you placed your hands on his chest and softly nuzzled his nose. "You think so?"

"What, you wanna bet?" He challenged with a raised eyebrow.

You shook your head no immediately, as a laugh escaped your throat. And with each shake of your head, you moved closer to him — until there was no more space between your mouths, and your puckered lips were softly pressing on his receptive ones.

They felt just like everything you had ever dreamed of, but better. They tasted sweet, just like him; and they somehow felt even softer and plumper than they looked.

With your heart speeding up in such a way you had not felt in so long, you pulled away, feeling your cheeks burn up while your face remained buried in his neck in a poor attempt to hide from what you had just done.

"Oh, no. No," he warned you, tilting his head towards your hidden face and placing his hand on your neck — gently, yet strong enough to manage to make you look up at him. "You don't get to kiss me and then pull away before I get a proper taste of you".

His lips were trapping your bottom one before you could even register his words. He pulled you in closer, hand travelling from the back of your neck to the side of it, so that he could hold you still while his thumb was faintly pressing on your throat. 

He deepened the kiss in no time, tilting his head to the side right as his tongue traced your bottom lip for you to open up. Once you did, he was greatly met by yours in the middle — tenderly massaging each other for a brief moment, before you focused back on sucking and teasing your needy lips.

"Did this answer your question?" he whispered against your mouth.

Too far gone in the sensation of his addictive lips on yours and the way his hot breath hit your mouth as it mixed with your own, you struggled to find your voice. "W-What even was the question?"

Hyunjin giggled, louder this time. Both hands cupped your cheeks, and his thumbs tickled your bottom lip as they faintly traced it. "You're so cute".

You looked down, not being able to hold his stare after hearing such a statement come out of his swollen, pink lips. Hyunjin laughed under his breath at the sight of it, planting a soft kiss on your forehead before he pulled you into his arms and fixed the blanket that was sliding down your shoulders.

"Are you two lovebirds done exchanging saliva?" Minho asked from the table a few meters away, mindlessly opening a red cooler.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, and you shyly buried your face in the crook of his neck like it was oh-so-natural by now.

"Is that a yes?"

"What do you need?" you reluctantly gave in.

"You're literally the only person apart from me who knows how to properly fillet a fish, so…"

You sighed, sitting up and giving Hyunjin a lingering, apologetic look before you stood up.

"I can help, too" he stood up immediately after you, leaving the blanket by your chairs and following behind you.

"I actually need your help chopping the veggies" Hyejin caught him by his t-shirt before he could even reach your side.

"But I can help Y/N cut th—"

"You don't even know how to cut a fish" Hye mocked him.

"No, but—"

"Just give it up, lover boy" Seungmin shut every hope of his down, placing a firm hand on his shoulder and dragging him with them to the other end of the table. "Come join those of us on veggies duty, Y/N's not going anywhere".

Throwing one last glance your way and watching you fold up your sleeves right before you got to helping Minho, Hyunjin smiled. He wished you weren't interrupted because of veggies and fish duty, and therefore you could still be sitting down by the bonfire, all alone, making out like he then realised he was desperate to.

But Seungmin was right. You were not going anywhere. For as long as he stayed by your side, and for as long as he made you feel safe enough in your relationship, you would stay.

For as long as you knew he was yours and you were his, you were not going anywhere. And he planned to keep it that way, so there was truly nothing for him to worry about, right?

tag list: @brinnalaine @slut4colinbridgerton @sherryblossom @svintsandghosts @phenomenalgirl9 @meloncremesoda @jxcesstuff @nhyunn @armystay89 @mal-lunar-28 @143hyunes @seungminstaehyun @cutiespaghetti @chaotic-world-of-the-j @its-me-hyunjin @kwanisms @hyunfruits

[mydadleft471]

Okay to anyone who cares because this show has destroyed me hehehe

Anywho, spoilers for Arcane Season 2 Act 3…

Or just Season 2 in general.

what the fuck.

Okay. Okay. I love the lesbians. But the CaitVi sex scene seemed kinda… off? Like the making out and shit was good (ahahaha I’m so bisexual it hurts) but like… Vi just got abandoned by her sister. Her sister that she’s had a VERY troubled relationship with, one she just got back and almost died protecting. Now she’s out and about and has implied that she’s going to do something drastic. And Cait just walks in there all sexy and she’s like “did you think we needed that many guards on the bridge teehee wink wink” and they just start fucking? Like I’m all for it, but it just feels very… off. I would’ve liked it better if they had angry sex in the scene where Vi founds out Jinx was arrested. Idk. Felt off to me.

And and and… Jinx’s “sacrifice?” I’m saying that lightly because people have pointed out very good reasons to why she might still be alive and she just left which opens up a whole other can of worms but that’s beside the point! Anyway, like… it felt so pointless! She’s fought and survived and dealt with so much loss and grief and I understand that Silco told her to walk away and break the cycle but… that’s Silco. The man who never forgave Vander (maybe he did in the “is there anything so undoing as a daughter” scene but ya know) and paid the fucking price? Why couldn’t Jinx break the cycle of hatred and learn to coexist with her sister? To deal with her mistakes head on? To help put that explosive power to good use? It just doesn’t make sense in my brain. I hated it tbh. It felt like such an intentional (shallow) emotional grab to “kill” one of the most beloved characters in the series. Maybe it’s just me, but I hated it.

Mel is cool tho. She is such a woman. A fucking powerhouse and it felt so good to watch her use her golden powers.

So is Ekko. I love him. He’s done so much. I love the consensus that they had to throw Ekko into the wild rune thingy otherwise he’d be too productive and save everyone before anything ever happened. That’s so him.

Poor Jayce. He went THROUGH IT. And Viktor’s design? The way his mask literally splits his face? And the gay power and ultimate sacrifice they did at the end? YES. So fucking good. Viktor’s scenes have been STUNNING this season and I’ve been eating it up like stuffing and gravy on Thanksgiving.

Arcane is certainly a one-of-a-kind show. I’ve never felt so emotionally invested before. I’ve never cried and then danced around my room with joy in such a small amount of time before. Fortiche (I think I’m spelling that right) had the weight of the universe on their shoulders, and boy did they deliver, but there are a few hang-ups. That doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy the show or I want my time back. Absolutely not. I loved the ride and I’ll definitely be thinking about Arcane for a long time. What a show.

[funkycatbruh]

jungkook recs 2

one shots y series sin terminar

INCOMPLETAS

SERIES

Dilf Iinstalments - @mercurygguk

SYNOPSIS. this series follows jungkook’s life as a divorced father. but wait, how exactly does one balance being a father, a boyfriend, a friend, and a respectable boss at the same time? read the installments below to find out!

GENRE. established relationship, smut/angst/fluff

♡ an ode to a broken heart - @smoochkooks

pairing ↠ jeon jungkook x reader

SYNOPSIS. you’ve watched jeon jungkook slip out of your reach your entire life. now it’s time for you to finally move on, bury the past and open a new chapter. however, you’re doing it in your own, unconventional way - by publishing anonymously a novel about your miserable relationship.

GENRE. unrequited love, best friends to (?), heavy angst, future smut

Colour Me In - @taegularities

pairing ↠ artist/fuckboy!Jungkook x reader

SYNOPSIS. Jungkook's door only opens for you when there's a barter: a trade of lust and haze. But today you knock for something more, as intriguing as it is frightening – and you hope it doesn't close his door forever.

GENRE. fwb, fake dating, college!au; fluff, angst, smut

Our Beloved Summer - @jeonqkooks

pairing ↠ producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader

SYNOPSIS. You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn’t as strong as you thought.

GENRE. exes to lovers, slow burn, fluff, angst, eventual smut; individual warnings for each part

Gold Is Dull - @kookluvre

pairing ↠ jeon jungkook x female reader

SYNOPSIS. your once-love abandoned you to chase his dreams as a boxer, leaving you and unknowingly, at the time, his son. as much as you want to forget him, you can't. you see him on the billboard, tv commercials, and in your son's room, reminding you of everything you once were.

GENRE. boxer!jk, dilf!jk, single mom! oc, heavy angst, ex-boyfriend, eventual smut, fluff

Bloodline - @jjkeverlast

pairing ↠ fuckboy!jk x fuckgirl!f.reader

SYNOPSIS. a relationship was the last thing you wanted, but having wild and experimenting sex? now that was something, and jeon jungkook is there to give you simply that. as long as either catch feelings... but that won't be hard for you knowing you'd never go for a guy like jungkook, although jungkook might have another opinion about you. let the (fun) begin!

GENRE. slow burn, smut , humor, angst and college au.

All I Want - @sxtaep

pairing ↠ fuckboy!jk x textbooknerd!reader

SYNOPSIS. you fall into the temptation of fucking your best friend, aka the biggest fuckboy on campus.

GENRE. bf2l, smut, angst, fluff, dom!jk, sub!reader, annoying jk, awkwardness, tension, some pining, teasing, making out

Tears Dry - @codebts

pairing ↠ jungkook x reader, ft. eunwoo

SYNOPSIS. he walks away, the sun goes down. he takes the day, but i’m grown. and in your grey, in this cool shade, my tears dry on their own.

GENRE. smut, angst; hybrid au, university au; one-sided love

♡ Hustlers - @jinconda

pairing ↠ Jungkook x Reader

SYNOPSIS. When Jeongguk’s girlfriend, Jihyo is taken by the Daechwita gang, everyone’s friendships are tested as Jeongguk does anything in pursuit of getting her back.

GENRE. : violence, killing , graphic themes, dark themes, swearing, angst.

Dilf jk series - @venusiangguk

pairing ↠ jungkook x reader / dilf jk x grocery store clerk oc

SYNOPSIS. you find a baby in your store and in turn, a dilf finds you

GENRE. strangers to lovers, friends with benefits, smut, fluff

♡ For What Its Worth - @citrustan

pairing ↠ student!reader x crush!jungkook

SYNOPSIS. you make an awful revelation about your crush of two years.

GENRE. angst, fluff (this comes in a bit later), light smut, college

♡ Love Lies - @kooktrash

HIATUS

pairing ↠ jungkook x reader

SYNOPSIS. an arrogant womanizer who’s spent his life numb to love. an unlovable romantic who’s been hurt one too many times. he’s your friend’s ex boyfriend but he tells you he wants you. he’s obsessive and you’re not as much of a victim as you make yourself out to be. you’ll both do whatever it takes to get what you want.

GENRE. angst. smut. future yandere jungkook. college student au. rich kid jungkook. f!reader. unhealthy attachment.. slutshaming. toxic friendships. implied emotional trauma from both ends

Paired and Pierced - @yoon-kooks

pairing ↠ hotnerd!jungkook x popular!reader(

SYNOPSIS.  When your professor assigns a collaborative midterm project, you’re paired up with Jeon Jungkook, the quiet grumpy smartass who keeps to himself and doesn’t fuck with popular kids like you. If you can win him over, he might give you a taste of the tatted and pierced body he’s carefully tucked away beneath those

GENRE.  smut, fluff, college!au

The Hit List - @whoretan

pairing ↠ Fuckboy!JK, introvert!Reader

SYNOPSIS. The Bangtan Frat is known for its prestige reputation of top GPAs, hosting the hottest most qualified students in the country, and above all: their undefeated list of heartbreaks. What happens when one of the seven ends up drunkenly at your doorstep?

GENRE. Smut (Future), emphasize on the Angst, and Romance

♡ Polarity - @darkestcorners

pairing ↠ yandere!jungkook x (f) reader

SYNOPSIS. Your best friend’s new boyfriend becomes infatuated with you…

GENRE. toxic relationships, unhealthy and obsessive behavior , mentions of mental health, manipulation, blackmail, cheating,

This Is Us - @btsgotjams27

pairing ↠ jungkook x f!reader

SYNOPSIS. after fighting to be in a relationship with jungkook, you begin to wonder if it's all worth it.

GENRE. drama, romance, angst, fluff, smut | est!relationship, age gap. cheating

If you love someone, say it - @letsstargaze

pairing ↠ jungkook x reader

SYNOPSIS. jungkook and you made a promise to each other five years ago, one you feared he would keep. now that the promise was close to being broken, shouldn't you feel relieved? why is it he's the happiest he's ever been, and you're wishing you were anywhere but here?

GENRE. angst, implied s*x, mentions of alcohol use.

♡ Ecstasy - @gdjyho

pairing ↠ jungkook x female reader

SYNOPSIS. jungkook fucks the reader completely dumb. you need him so bad. you can’t help it

GENRE. cheating, side chick au

»»————-　♡　————-««

UPCOMING

Wrong Time - @spideyjimin

SYNOPSIS. meeting ten years later the girl he deeply fell in love with is something Jungkook never thought would happen. but here you are, standing before his eyes with a bright smile on your face as you walk through the massive lobby of his company. at that exact moment, he realizes that the two of you fell in love at the wrong time but is now the right time?  

GENRE. parent au, exes to lovers, ceo au, angst, fluff, and smut

Over Wine - @koocycle

pairing ↠ husband! jungkook x ex-model! fem reader

SYNOPSIS. designer dresses, spa weekends and rare wines are no longer enough to keep your marriage afloat. with your husband gone from home and a marriage standing on shaky grounds, you stumble back to your neglected career in the hopes it’ll fulfill the void in your life. you’re ready to take the risk this time, whether that is with the emerald cut diamond around your ring finger, or without.

GENRE. rich couple! au, established relationship! au, married couple! au, semi sugar daddy! au, suburban couple! au, angst, fluff and smut.

TO BE READ

ONE SHOT

The Lines Between Us - @chateautae

pairing ↠ detective!jungkook x detective!reader

SYNOPSIS. you’re detective partners who hate each other’s guts and everyone knows it. what they don’t know however, is that there’s so much more between the lines, and he knows damn well how to rearrange your guts too.

GENRE. detective!au, partner!jungkook, e2l!au, fwb!au, slight fantasy!au, one-shot, smut, angst

SERIES

The Rule Book - @another-army-spot

pairing ↠ Jungkook x reader

SYNOPSIS. Despite being the notorious fuck girl on campus, you have morals and values that you stick to with a solid set of rules.  One of your rules excludes Golden Boy, Jungkook, from ever getting a chance with you, much to both of your dismay.  And he intends to change that, with one really irresistible bet. 

GENRE. friends-to-lovers, college!au, softfuckboy!jk, fuckgirl!oc, fraternity!au, eventual smut 

INCOMPLETA

Chasing Pavements

hiatus

pairing ↠ dad!jk/married!jk/bff!jk x reader (ft. taehyung) 

SYNOPSIS. But tonight, Jungkook is taking a different route. One that does not lead to his home, but to your apartment building instead. He never takes it unless it’s Friday, the day he drops Sunhi off in your care for a few hours while he pretends he wants to fix whatever marital issues he has.

GENRE. f2l, angst, unrequited feelings au, sad stuff, future smut, cheating

Hate At First Weeb

pairing ↠ weeb!jungkook x weeb!reader

SYNOPSIS. You just want to weeb in peace but your annoying downstairs neighbour just won’t let you bREATHE.

GENRE. college au, e2l, weeb!reader, weeb!jungkook, weeb!jimin, jimin is lgbt, taehyung is lgbt

You Belong With Me - @joonscroll

pairing ↠ jungkook x reader

SYNOPSIS. you’ve been in love with jungkook since the moment you first saw him. he's always seen you as a friend. watching him date other girls and having to pretend you’re not in love with him is killing you.  

GENRE. : angst, fluff

[cherry-holmes]

Glimpse of a life with Javier Peña

Chapter 15

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: Six months ago you spoke with Javi for the last time. Now, you tried to continue with your life without him.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Previous chapter

Pairing: Javier Peña x Female Reader

Word count: 6.9k

Warnings: Angst. Talk of depression. Mention of daddy issues. Brief description of reader’s body. I decide not to give more warnings to avoid spoilers, so keep the reading under your own responsibility, but in general this contains +18 material.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I knew you

Leavin' like a father

Running like water, I

And when you are young, they assume you know nothing

But I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss

I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs

The smell of smoke would hang around this long

'Cause I knew everything when I was young

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Finally, on December 2, 1993, Pablo Escobar died in Medellín, bringing an end to years of violence and fear to the country. Of course, the ghosts of evil would linger over for a long time. The narcoviolence was a vicious cycle that corroded everything it touched. But for now, the police of Colombia and the DEA had shown that there were still good people and hope. Even if ir wasn't completely true.

When you saw Steve's photo in the newspaper, you felt proud of him, of course, but you knew that Javier deserved to be there too. He had given many years of sacrificing his own safety and personal life to fulfill his duty. There was no other American who had done as much for his country than Javier Peña. He deserved recognition, he deserved to be decorated and rewarded for his years of service.

But instead, he was being judged for using unorthodox methods to do his job. It wasn't ideal, but it was effective in the end. Who hasn't looked for alternatives in their most desperate moments? They didn't deserve a man like him. And now he was paying the price.

You hadn't heard anything about him since that last call, six months ago. You didn't know if he had been judged or sentenced yet. And you weren't sure if you even wanted to know.

Days turned into weeks, and before you knew it, weeks had turned into months. While everything around you seemed to continue its normal course, you felt stuck in Bogotá. Memories of warm nights with him, hurried breakfasts in his truck, and cozy dinners at home lingered, haunting you like ghosts of a past life. You tried to distract yourself, to focus on the routine of daily life, but thoughts of Javier lingered like shadows in the corners of your mind. You wore the necklace he gave you on your birthday like a charm. It was your most precious treasure, the three pearls representing the love he had for you and you for him. Your fingertips sought it out every time you felt down, sometimes unconsciously.

You found it difficult to concentrate on something else, your thoughts constantly drifting back to him, to the uncertainty that clouded his future.

You started to think that maybe the problem lay within you, that you were somehow unworthy of having the man you loved beside you. Doubts ate away at your confidence, questioning your worthiness of love in any form. In the late hours of the night, you grappled with the echoes of your past, recalling the pain of your father's abandonment when you were just a child. That trauma left a deep hole of abandonment in your heart, a wound that never fully healed. And now, facing Javier's absence, it felt like history was repeating itself. The two men you had loved the most had left you, leaving behind a trail of broken promises and shattered dreams. Yes, you still had your beloved grandfather, José, but in those moments of anxiety and depression, you couldn't help but wonder what was wrong with you to not been worthy of love.

Your mother wasn't very helping either, as she wasn't very kind towards you. She never asked you how you were now that you came back or told you she missed you. And when everything with Javi happened, she made cruel comments, hinting that for him you were just another woman and that it was your fault for sleeping with him and not respecting yourself.

However, you had your sisters who supported you through the grief, and the love of your abuelo meant everything.

He was a lawyer, and he offered you a temporary job on his independent buffet while you find a job that suit your requirements.

Losing your dream job as a translator in a foreign country, enduring very difficult situations that put your life in danger, and losing the love of your life—all the trauma and heartbreak left a hole in your chest. It felt as though a part of you was missing, as though you were navigating the world with a piece of your soul torn away.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The Saturday sun bathed the cobblestone streets in a warm, golden glow as you emerged from the church, your heart still echoing the hymns of worship. Beside you, your beloved abuelo walked, his arm linked with yours, his weathered face radiant with the peace of faith.

"What do you want to eat, papá?" You asked him.

"Sarita told me about a new restaurant," he answered as your mother joined his side, "She said they have delicious barbacoa and consomé."

"I don't think you should eat that, papá," your mother intervened, her brow frowned. From the look on her face, you knew she was going to confront Sara for craving such food for grandpa. "The doctor said..."

"The doctor said many things, María," he replied firmly. "I'm going to die anyway, so I'm gonna eat my birria!"

You smiled to your abuelo's stubbornness, and although you knew that your mother could be right, you just couldn't help but want to fulfill his cravings.

"Okay, papá, we all going to have barbacoa," you promised.

Before your mother could say anything to you, your nephews and nieces ran by your side, pointing towards the churro seller.

"¡Tía, cómpranos churros!" they shouted, and you found yourself outnumbered by them.

"Okay, okay!" You smiled as you watched them bouncing in front of you. "Everyone line up by height and ask the señor de los churros nicely for yours."

Your nephews and nieces cheered at unison and ran towards the vending cart. Both your sisters insisted on pay for their own children churros, but you told them that you wanted to buy churros for everyone.

As your sisters and their husbands agreed with your grandfather and your mother to all go to eat to the restaurant Sara propose to your abuelo, you tried to help the churro's vendedor not going crazy with all four children. All of them were under ten years old, so you can imagine how noisy and playful – and troubling – they can be.

As the kids devoured their churros, you juggled between keeping an eye on them and ensuring they didn't wander off too far. Their laughter filled the air, echoing against the cobblestone streets as they ran around in playful abandon.

Guiding your nephews and nieces back to your family, you barely noticed the bustling activity around you until a familiar voice pierced through the chaos. "I've always known that you look even more beautiful around kids."

You froze in disbelief, your heart skipping a beat at the sound of his voice. You turned around and saw Javier standing there. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you took in the sight of him. He looked different, yet somehow the same—the same rugged charm, the same warm gaze that had always captivated you. His mere presence was like a jolt of electricity, sending shivers down your spine and stirring emotions you thought long buried.

As the reality of his presence sank in, a whirlwind of emotions swept through you. Part of you wanted to run into his arms, to hold him close and never let go. Another part wanted to push him away, to confront him for leaving without a word, for breaking your heart with his silence.

But as you looked into his eyes, you saw the pain and regret reflected in his gaze—the same pain you had been carrying in your heart all these months. And in that moment, all your anger and hurt melted away, replaced by a flood of overwhelming love and longing.

"Javi?" your voice cracked, eyes inevitably flooded with tears. ''How...?''

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. "I shouldn't have left you like that."

Without another word, you closed the distance between you, your heart pounding with anticipation. Javier's eyes softened as you reached out, your arms trembling as they closed around his torso. The touch was electrifying, sending a surge of warmth coursing through your veins.

You couldn't understand exactly how he was right there, what happened during all those months?, how the hell did he found you? But he was there, he was between your arms again... His warmth, his scent, his beating heart beneath your ear, were things you thought you would never feel again.

"¿Tía?" you heard the little voice of Ana, the youngest of your nieces, as she pulled the skirt of your dress. "Is this Javi? The boy you always cry for?"

You glanced down at her, innocent eyes wide with curiosity, and then back at Javier, uncertainty clouding your thoughts. How could you explain the complexities of love and loss to a child?

"Ana, come here," Silvia, her mother, approached to grab her. She looked at Javi and then back at your watering, reddened eyes. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," you answered, a smile prompting on your lips, blush coloring your cheeks. It was the first time in a long, long time that you felt a genuine sense of emotion and happiness since you arrived in your birth-town. "Silvi, this is Javi. Javi, this is my sister."

Javier extended his hand towards Silvia, a warm smile gracing his lips. "Nice to meet you, Silvia," he greeted, his voice gentle and sincere.

Silvia's expression changed upon recognizing his name. Her eyes softened as she shook Javier's hand. "Likewise," she replied, her eyes flickering with curiosity. Of course, she had memorized his name and appearance through the photos you had shown her and Sara of your time in Colombia with Javi. Your sisters had wiped your tears and listened to your heartbreaking cries for him.

You saw your family approaching you, everyone seeming curious and expectant. Your hands were shaking, your heart felt like it could punch through your chest. So had so many questions, so many things to say to him. Suddenly, you felt overwhelmed.

"Buenas tardes," your abuelo approached to you. You recognized that look on his face, the same he had every time you or your sisters met a new boy. Your abuelo had always been the jealous kind, but in a sweet way.

Javier greeted your abuelo, extending his hand in a gesture of respect. "Mucho gusto, Don José. Javier Peña," he said, his voice resonating with genuine warmth, remembering your grandfather's name.

Your abuelo's eyes twinkled mischievously as he shook Javier's hand. "¡Ah! So you're the famous Javier," he replied, his tone tinged with playful teasing.

Javi looked at you with a playful arched brow, causing your face turned completely red, like a tomato. You were the most gorgeous tomato he had ever seen in his life.

"Everyone, I want you to meet Javier," you said, gesturing towards him with a smile. "Javier, this is my family."

Your sisters and their husbands exchanged glances, their eyes bright with curiosity as they greeted Javier warmly. "Nice to meet you, Javier," Sara said, extending her hand.

Javier shook her hand with a polite nod. "You too. You must be Sara."

Sara chimed in, her excitement palpable. "Yeah, it's great to finally meet you in person."

Your mother, who had been observing quietly, offered a reserved nod of acknowledgment, her expression unreadable.

As the greetings subsided, Silvia turned to Javier. "Hey, why don't you join us for lunch at the restaurant? We'd love to have you."

Before Javier could respond, you interjected gently, "Actually, if you don't mind, I'd like to have a private conversation with Javier first. We can catch up with everyone later this afternoon at home."

Javier's stomach churned at your words. "Have a private conversation" sounded like you were about to have a serious discussion. He wasn't expecting you to receive him as if nothing happened, as if he hadn't broken your heart. He was surprised and relieved when you hugged him upon seeing him, but he thought it might have been just a quick reaction, an impulsive action prompted by the heat of the moment.

Silvia's eyebrows raised in surprise, but she nodded understandingly. "Of course, hermanita. We'll see you both at home then."

With a collective agreement, your family bid you and Javier farewell, dispersing toward the church's parking lot with chatter and laughter trailing behind them. You turned to Javier, a mixture of anticipation and nerves swirling in your chest, ready to finally have the private conversation you'd been yearning for.

"So, shall we take a taxi?" you said finally.

"Actually, I brought my truck," he said, pointing at the park across the street, where you saw a red 90s Chevrolet Silverado.

"You drove all the way here?" The thought of him driving three hours, crossing the border, just to see you stirred a whirlwind of emotions within you. It was both overwhelming and heartwarming to know that he had gone to such lengths to be with you.

"Of course, from Laredo" he confessed.

As you walked across the street towards his truck, the atmosphere between you felt familiar, bringing back a flood of memories. Javier unlocked the truck and held the door open for you, as you settled into the passenger seat, the scent of his cologne enveloped you, filling you with a sense of comfort.

Once you were there, feeling overwhelmed by his return, after everything you had been throgh being away from him, thinking he was even in jail. It was too much, you barely could process it... You finally broke, as soon as Javi closed the drivers door, you started crying.

Javier's heart ached as he watched you cry, his own emotions swirling inside him like a tempest. He reached out tentatively, his hand hovering over yours, unsure if he should offer comfort or give you space.

He called your sweet name in a way only he could. You felt shivers just hearing it, reminding you of the power he had over you.

You turned to him, tears streaming down your cheeks, your eyes filled with a mixture of sadness, relief, and confusion. "Why, Javi?" you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. "Why did you leave me?"

Javier's heart clenched at the pain in your voice, the anguish etched into your features. He took a deep breath, steeling himself to face the truth, to lay bare his soul before you.

"I thought I was doing the right thing for you," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "I was trying to protect you."

You wanted to ask again "why?" but you knew it was unnecessary because you understood why. He was trying to shield you from becoming attached to a convict, a man who was not physically free. It had taken you a long time to grasp the magnitude of the situation and his sacrifice. Javier Peña wasn't a selfish man.

"It's important to me for you to understand that at that moment everything seemed to be against me," he continued, his eyes staring at you with longing and desperation, as he feared you wouldn't want to hear him or wouldn't believe him. "Don Berna betrayed me and forced Judy Moncada to leave Colombia and spill everything about the DEA agent who was foolish enough to trust them. I was told that I had committed a federal crime by getting involved with Los Pepes."

For a moment, the gravity of his words left you speechless, grappling with the enormity of what he had endured. You knew firsthand the dangers and complexities of his work, but hearing the details of his ordeal sent a chill down your spine.

"I had to make a choice," Javier continued, his voice tinged with regret. "I couldn't risk your safety, not when everything was falling apart around me. I thought I was doing what was best for you, even if it meant sacrificing my own happiness."

New tears welled up in your eyes as you reached out to him, your hand trembling as it touched his. In that moment, words seemed inadequate to express the depth of your emotions, the overwhelming rush of love and forgiveness that flooded your heart.

"I missed you," you confessed, your voice barely contained. "I was devastated. Not only for how things between us ended, but for thinking about what would happen to you..."

Javier's gaze softened as he listened to your heartfelt words. He reached out, gently brushing away your tears with his thumb, his touch sending a wave of warmth through you.

"I missed you too, every moment," he admitted, his voice filled with raw emotion. "Not a day went by when I didn't think about you. Te amo."

"Javi?" you spoke softly, wiping your tears and turning your body to fully face him.

"Yes, bonita?" he said, and your stomach fluttered with thousands of butterflies that had been sleeping, waiting to hear that word he used to call you. Bonita, you'll always be his bonita.

"Kiss me already," you whispered, the words escaping your lips before you could hold them back.

With a tender smile, Javier leaned closer, his gaze softening as he brushed a stray tear from your cheek. The air between you crackled with anticipation, the weight of months apart dissipating with each heartbeat.

As his lips met yours, a surge of warmth washed over you, igniting a fire that had been smoldering deep within. You let out a shaky moan when his tongue met yours, sending electricity to your core.

Javi growled at your reaction. He was so needed of your touch, your kisses; that skin-to-skin sensation he sink in when he made love with you. Cause even during the darkest moments when he feared he might spend the rest of his life behind bars, he couldn't bring himself to be with anyone else. He was yours, in body and spirit.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You and Javi were hungry and had so much to talk about. So you guided him through the city, searching for somewhere quiet to eat and converse. As he sat across from you at the table, perusing the menu, you still couldn't believe he was actually there—free and as handsome as ever. It felt like years had passed since Bogotá, the last time you saw him. Or maybe you suddenly died, your heart finally giving up missing him, and that was heaven.

Javi finally looked up from the menu, his gaze meeting yours. "Everything okay, sweetheart?" he asked, concern evident in his eyes as his broad hand reached across the table to touch yours.

"No... I mean, yes!" you said, your voice trailing off. "It's just... I'm so, so happy you're here, but I still can't process what happened."

Javi smiled, his eyes reflecting a mixture of tenderness and longing. "I promise, mi vida, I'll never leave you again," he vowed, his words a silent promise to cherish and protect you for as long as he lived.

The waiter approached, and you both placed your orders. After she left, you spoke again. "How did you find me?" you asked with genuine curiosity.

Monterrey was a sprawling metropolis, and in the '90s world, finding something or someone without an address or a phone number was no small feat.

Javier leaned forward, his expression radiating warmth. "It wasn't easy, but I remembered when you told me about going to church every Sunday with your family," he began, his voice low and intimate. "I recalled the name of the church and the municipality, so as soon as I arrived in the city, I searched for it. It took me all day yesterday, but I managed to get a lead, and it paid off. I found the right one."

You nodded, deeply impressed by his determination and resourcefulness. He was a proper DEA agent who spent years looking for and taking down sicarios. Of course, he was going to find his girlfriend on the first try. It was very sweet how he would do anything just to be with you, though, to have you back.

"I was fuckin' terrified that you were angry with me for leaving you like that," he continued, his voice tinged with regret. "Or worse, that you may have someone else already."

You looked at Javier, sensing the vulnerability in his eyes, and felt a pang of empathy. The thought of him fearing your anger or the possibility of you being with someone else touched you deeply.

"Javi, I could never be angry with you for trying to protect me," you said softly. "I was angry and devastated at first, I'm not gonna lie," you confessed, your chest aching with memories of those endless nights of overthinking and tears. "But it wasn't directed towards you, but towards life. I couldn't accept the decision you had to make, but with time, I came to understand that you only wished the best for me, and it was very sweet and unselfish."

You reached your delicate hand across the table to grasp his. "And as for someone else, there's never been anyone else for me. It's always been you."

His eyes softened, relief flooding his features as he squeezed your hand gently. "You're the only one for me, too, bonita. You're the best thing that could ever happen to this son of a bitch."

You leaned forward to kiss his lips. The familiarity of his touch was overwhelming and comforting at the same time.

When the meal was over and both of you were back in his truck, you asked him where he was staying.

Javier glanced at you, his expression thoughtful as he considered your question. He mentioned a hotel downtown, and you recognized it from what you had heard.

"You can stay a couple of days. I want to show you the city and introduce you properly to my family, if you don't mind," you proposed.

"Me encantaría pasar todo el tiempo del mundo contigo, mi vida preciosa," he said, and you flushed at the sweet nickname. "Actually, I was thinking about moving to a hotel closer to your house."

"That won't be necessary. You can stay with me," you offered without hesitation, feeling a rush of warmth at the idea of having him close again. "I'm living with my abuelo y mi mamá."

"I don't want to be a bother," he began, but you took his hand gently and looked into his puppy eyes.

"You're family now, and family never bothers," you assured him. "My abuelo has a spacious house, and you can stay in the guest bedroom. You know, we can sleep together..."

"That's okay, baby. I understand," he agreed, leaning over to place a kiss on your lips. "So, where do you want to go now? Wanna go home?" he asked, turning on the gear.

"Actually," you began, your cheeks burning and your heart pounding with anticipation, "I was thinking that we could go to your hotel."

With a mischievous grin, Javier glanced at you, his eyes alight with excitement. "Can we?" he asked, his voice filled with playful anticipation.

You smiled shyly, nodding as your cheeks turned cherry red. "Unless you want to spend the evening elsewhere."

Javier's eyes sparkled with amusement as he caught your playful tone. "Oh, I'm perfectly content to spend the evening wherever you desire," he replied, his voice laced with a hint of mischief.

You chuckled softly, feeling a rush of excitement tinged with nervousness.

"Be careful what you wish for, baby," he added, his voice filled with longing. "I've missed you so damn much."

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The hotel room was nice, elegant and spacious. But of course you didn't noticed that at first, as you were very busy devouring Javi's mouth. He guided you towards the bed, hands squeezing the soft flesh of your hips; yours cupping his head.

"I love you," he muttered against your mouth, pausing briefly as you unbuttoned his shirt. "You don't have any idea how much I needed you. I couldn't breathe..."

His voice wavered with emotion, and you couldn't help but notice the vulnerability in his tone. Your fingers brushed against his lips, a silent gesture of reassurance. You still had a lot of questions, things that you would like to know, but you were sure that you had a lot of time to do it. For example, when his next move was to get rid of his shirt and you saw the scar on his side, where you knew he had been shot. Your fingers traced the damaged skin, your throat constricting at the sight of him being hurt, where he could have lost his life...

In that moment, you didn't want to cry anymore, to regret things that, fortunately, were in the past now.

"I'm here," your voice was barely a whisper, but he was close enough to hear every word. "I'm not going anywhere."

Javi nodded in agreement, leaning in to meet your lips once again. His skilled fingers unzipped the back of your dress, sending shivers all over your body as his fingertips met your skin. The light fabric pooled around your feet, his gaze darkening as it roamed over your body with desire.

His hands captured your waist, caressing the skin of your ribs and hips. His touch felt desperate, yet gentle. His fingers traced the exposed, soft skin at the edge of your bra, then smoothly moved to unclasp it, freeing the lace that covered your breasts.

You were hypnotized by the waves of heat emanating from both your naked torsos. Restless to relive that skin-to-skin sensation you longed for so much.

"God, how I missed your body," he whispered, almost unconsciously, as he devoured you with his eyes.

Your cheeks flushed even more, a shy smile appearing on your lips. "And I missed your touch, Javi," you confessed back.

With a mischievous grin, Javier glanced at you, his eyes alight with excitement. "Did you?," his voice filled with playfulness. "Did you touch yourself when you missed me?" He wanted to know. You nodded, an innocent gesture that made his cock throb on his pants. "C'mere. Show me," he ordered, leading you to the bed, where he had you lie back in the center.

Javi knelt in front of you, between your legs, your core aching with anticipation. "C'mon, take your panties off," he ordered, and you gladly obeyed.

Pushing your hips up, you grasped the edges of your panties with your fingers and began to slide the garment down your legs.

He couldn't help but hiss when he saw the glistening between your folds, where your honey pooled for him. "Touch yourself, baby, just like how you did when you were thinking of me," he whispered.

You traced a path on your skin, from the place above your belly button, down your body until your delicate middle finger met your slick. Javier was mesmerized as he watched you move up and down along your pussy, taking extra care every time you reached your clit, causing little whimpers to escape from your lips.

Suddenly, Javi felt his pants getting tighter; it was almost painful not to free himself. His hands went to his belt, and he started working on it. "Keep going," he encouraged you, as your eyes followed the glorious path of pubic hair that preceded his cock. You bit your lip, intensifying the movements on your pussy, the sound of your wetness filling the room.

"Don't be shy," he said, his voice thick with lust. "That little pussy looks so good."

You took his word and inserted one finger into your warm body. His breath quivered at the sight; he couldn't contain himself anymore.

"How does it feel?" he asked, as he took his hardened cock out of his briefs. You whimpered at the sight, your walls clenching, as if they were screaming to be stretched by its length. Javi took himself in hand and started jerking off to satisfy his own itch.

"G-good," you mumbled. It was true, but you knew it was nothing compared to the feeling of his cock inside you. So you added a second finger to try to calm your urgency, the gushing sounds surrounding you as you moved your fingers in and out of your pussy. But it wasn't enough. You wanted him.

"Javi..." you murmured.

"Tell me, bonita," he responded, his voice filled with anticipation. "Tell me what you want."

"I want you," you said, without stopping your movements.

"You want me? You want this?" he teased, showing off his cock right in front of you. A pearl of precum glistened on its tip, veins pulsating along its length. Your mouth watered at the sight. "C'mon, take it. It's yours."

He didn't have to tell you twice. You stopped what you were doing and knelt on the mattress to press your body against his. Your hand went directly to his cock, eliciting a growl from his chest.

Javi's cock fit perfectly in your tiny hand as you moved it up and down while kissing him passionately.

You let your body fall over his, and he didn't hesitate to allow himself to be placed underneath you. Your lips then moved to his neck, traveling down to his chest, his stomach... When he realized you were actually going south, he took your chin and made you look at him.

"That's not necessary..." he clarify. He wasn't expecting that.

"I want to," you insisted.

Without another word, you positioned yourself right over his cock, taking it in your hand and placing a kiss on its tip. "Fuck..." he reacted.

You were unsure what to do, as it was the first time you'd done it. You only wanted to make him feel good.

So you tried licking its head, the salty taste on your tongue making your pussy clench around nothing. Then, you attempted to take the head into your warm mouth. You had to open your mouth wider than you expected, your hand gently placed on its base. It was too big, hard, and too long.

You bobbed your head at a constant rhythm, encouraged by the moans and hisses he began to let out. Javi's hand went to your hair, gathering it into a ponytail, both to let you work easily and to clear his view. "Good job, baby," he praised.

When you tried to go further, its head at the back of your throat made you gag, so you had to take a breath. "Take it easy," he said reassuringly as he tucked a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. "You're doin' amazing."

You went back to it, but this time a little lower. "Holy shhh..." he growled, feeling the wetness and warmth of your tongue licking his balls. They tasted salty, heavy on your lips. You closed your hand around his length, moving it up and down to please him. Slurping noises filled the room, amplifying the intensity. "You look so pretty taking my cock like that baby."

You alternated between using your mouth and your hand on his cock and his balls, growing more confident with each movement, trying to take him deeper as you could. Your mouth felt like heaven for him, but he needed to stop. He wanted to fuck to you properly instead of just cum on your tongue. There would be another chance for that.

After a moment, Javi sat on the bed and gestured for you to do the same. You could barely catch your breath before his mouth captured yours, his arm around your waist. You knelt in front of him, providing easy access to your breasts, and he didn't miss the opportunity, capturing one of your nipples into his mouth. You threw your head back, moaning at the sensation, your fingers tangled in his hair.

He worshipped your body, squeezing your hips and back, massaging your ass with his broad hands. Then his fingers found your soaked pussy, taking advantage of how wet you were as he introduced one of them inside you. You whimpered, moving your hips over his hand, desperate to quell the need for him. He added a second thick finger, stretching you so damn good. They slipped in and out without effort, and Javi could feel your slick running down the bare palm of his hand.

Javi licked the sensitive skin of your nipple before shifting to your other breast. He sucked and played with the tip of his tongue on the nipple, just like he did when he played with your clit, like a starved man.

"Javi..." you whimpered.

Once he was satisfied with how wet you were, he guided his cock to your entrance as you instinctively lowered your hips. Both of you moaned as he made his way inside you, stretching your walls. The sensation was painfully familiar for both of you, the feeling of being connected in an intimate, raw way. It was as if you were born for each other, like you belonged together beyond the physical realm.

He didn't waste any time, going straight to help you move over him. Once you understood the assignment, your hips started working almost on their own. "That's it, bonita, give it to me."

You could feel him very deep inside you, his tip brushing against the entrance of your cervix, his balls thrusting against you every time you went down. 

Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to kiss him, engaging in a battle of tongues and a tangle of legs.

"Your cock feels amazing, mi amor, la extrañé mucho," you whispered in his ear before you bite his earlobe.

"That's why you wanted to suck my cock?" he asked, his fingers gripping tighter on your hips, urging you to move faster. "My fuckin' dirty girl, so right for me..."

"Wanna see how dirty I can get?" placing your hands on his chest, you pushed him back so he could lie down again.

He was pleased with the view. The curves of your body, every roll, every pore, every freckle, every stretch mark. You were so sexy and gorgeous.

He tried to reach for your body, but you took his wrists and placed them over his head. You started moving your hips: up and down, front and back. At first, it was slow, savoring every inch of his cock slipping inside you. Then, you moved faster, riding him as whimpers escaped from your mouth, joining the skin-to-skin sound of your bodies thrusting together. Your hands went to his chest for more balance as you rode him.

"That's it, baby. Don't stop...fuck..." he grunted, his hands on your ass to help you keep going.

You slowed down when your legs began to ache, leaning down to capture his lips. His broad, warm hands caressed your hair, trailing down to your shoulders and back until they reached your waist. With a swift, smooth movement, Javi turned you around. Before you could process it, your body was beneath his, and he penetrated you again. This time, the soft moan you made when you felt him inside was silenced by his mouth.

"I love you, bonita," he promised, moving his pelvis against yours.

With your hands cupping his head, little whimpers escaping your lips, you echoed the sentiment. "I love you so much, Javi."

His thrusts grew harder and faster, his arms bearing his weight to avoid crushing you. His growls and whimpers were music to your ears. Your lips caressed the soft skin of his neck, your hands roamed everywhere along his broad back. He was lost in you, shivers crossing his entire being every time he reached that deep spot inside you, eliciting cries of his name from your lips.

"You like that, bonita? Hm?" he breathed out, his voice captivated by his own pleasure. "Fuck, I love your pussy."

Your orgasm was so close, he could tell by the way your walls clenched around his length, and the rivers of your nectar emanating from your cunt. You tried to warn him, but you could only mumble as your body shuddered beneath him. "I know, baby... Fuck, I'm gonna cum too."

You felt how he was doubtful about his next move. He wanted you to come, of course, but he was so dangerously close to his own release that he needed to be careful not to come inside you. But you were so horny and lost on the pleasure that you knew you want his load dripping out your pussy.

So you tangled your legs around his torso, forcing him inside you. "I'm gonna cum..." he warned.

"It's okay... I want you to fill me up..." you moan.

"Yeah? That's what you want, honey?" He cooed, his lips placing soft, wet kissed on your jawline.

You nodded, "Ye-yes! Fuck, Javiii!" that's the only thing you could say, as his movements were almost erratic, hungrily against you.

"I'm gonna fuck a baby into you... What about that?" he grunted, the mere thought of it made the both of you shiver with pleasure.

"Yes! Oh my... Yes! I-wa.... I'm wanna have your baby, Javi," you mumbled, so lost on the moment that you couldn't even think about the weight of the words you spoke.

"I'm gonna cum so deep on you that you're gonna smell like me for days, baby."

Those were the words that made you finally lost it. Your entire body seemed to implode for a moment before it exploded on a devastating orgasm. Throwing your head back against the mattress, your nails digging on the muscles of his arms and toes curling as your squirted on his cock. A silent scream of pleasure took the shape of Javi's name.

With one last final thrust, Javier followed you reaching his release between deep-voice whimpers and grunts of your name over and over again. You felt his warm load filling up, mixing with your slick, making you clenched even more, milking him so damn good.

As he felt himself softening, he pulled out and lay beside you as both of you tried to catch your breath again. Finally, Javi wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest, the warmth of his body comforting against your skin. You lay there together in silence, the only sounds filling the room were the rhythmic beating of your hearts and the soft exhales as you both recovered from the intensity of your lovemaking.

After a while, Javier felt your body shake a bit, and it wasn't long before he heard you sniffing. Were you crying? He tried to see your face, but you hid from him with your face against his chest. It was evident that you were crying. He felt a pang in his chest, concern washing over his face as he tried to make you look up at him.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice charged with worry and guilt. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, no," you rushed to say, wiping your tears with your fingers as his brushed your hair and placed it behind your ear. "You didn't do anything. I'm just so happy."

Javier's expression softened as he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you protectively. "I'm here, mi amor," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I'm not leaving you ever again."

You melted into his embrace, feeling safe and loved in his arms, the bliss of your orgasms still lingering on your bodies. After a moment of silence, he spoke again, his fingers gently tracing circles on your back. "I really meant it."

Struggling not to fall asleep, since you still had to return to your grandfather's house, you asked, "What?" Your voice was soft, barely audible above the hushed rhythm of your breathing.

"I want to have babies with you." His words hung in the air, tinged with both sincerity and excitement.

You flushed, a warmth spreading across your cheeks as you processed his declaration. Your heart started to beat faster, and you didn’t even think he was completely serious yet.

"Well, we have to get married first, then," you replied, a hint of playfulness in your tone.

"I know,” he added, determination on his tone, “I'm going to ask your grandfather for your hand tomorrow." His eyes meeting yours with unwavering resolve.

"Are you serious?" Your voice was tinged with surprise, a mixture of disbelief and anticipation.

Javier nodded, his gaze softening as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Absolutely serious," he affirmed, his tone earnest. "¿Quieres casarte conmigo?”

Your heart fluttered at his words, a rush of emotions welling up inside you. New tears of joy fell down your cheeks as you nodded repeatedly. "¡Sí! Sí quiero, Javi. Quiero casarme contigo," you admitted, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Then it's settled," he declared, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, pulling you closer to him again. "Tomorrow, I'll talk to your grandfather, and soon after, we'll start planning our wedding."

You nestled closer to him, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. You still couldn’t believe what was happening in that moment. Just that morning, your heart ached with his absence, and you couldn't imagine seeing him ever again. If someone had told you that same afternoon you would be in his arms again, making love with him, and practically engaged, you wouldn't have believed it. You would have thought it was a cruel joke. And yet, there he was with you, vowing to share a life together.

NEXT CHAPTER

[gimmemore14]

I want to know about all your WIPs, cause I'm greedy that way, but if I have to limit it to one, then I'd love to hear more about the Pirate/navy Au omegaverse (Dark!brudick—> sladick).

Thanks for the asks!! I lumped in @hii-theree ‘s too so I can get two birds one stone :)

SO I love pirates, favorite childhood/teenage series was one called bloody jack where an orphan girl disguises herself as a boy and joins the navy as a cabin boy, it’s based loosely on the multitude of true stories of women cross dressing to fight in the navy army ect! On the plane I couldn’t help but think of a similar idea but Dick is an omega that disguises himself since theyre not allowed (but of course Bruce finds out…)

Here, have a snippet!

Dick swipes at the sweat streaming down his face as he climbs up the main mast with a heavy chest strapped to his back. There's nothing to shield his eyes from the harsh glare of the sun- his captain’s hat lost long ago during the battle- or the glint of it reflecting off of a looking glass on the Deathstroke’s quarterdeck.

That bastard is watching him.

Good.

Wally, as unhappy as he was with his captain, lowered the Navy ship’s colors for him before helping wrangle their angry bosun onto the rowboat and boarding as well. Dick will miss his first mate dearly, but a captain’s duty is to protect his crew first.

Damned be what the admiral says.

He waves the white flag from his perch in the rigging as his crew starts rowing away in the lifeboats. They won’t have any hope of escaping the pirates unless Captain Wilson takes his deal, but Dick is confident in his persuasiveness. He makes sure the treasure is in clear view as the pirate ship throws their lines over to moor the ships together.

As the pirates swarm the ship below, Dick surveys the poor state of it. The Nightwing’s foremast lays like an anchor in the water, snapped but still attached. They would have had to find a port quickly to fix all of the damage to the deck, but he already knows his beloved ship, commissioned for him, is doomed for destruction.

An imposing man steps easily across the divide of the ships, any doubt that this is the same captain who’s been hounding him for years is cut away as the man meets his eyes.

“I see even as a captain the pretty bird is more at home in the rigging. What an unusual surrender… you hiding like a treed mountain lion and your men abandoning their captain.”

“It’s purposeful,” Dick says, his chin tilted up proudly despite feeling so young in front of the grizzled pirate. “I’d like to propose a deal, my surrender is already guaranteed and not part of it but the safety of this chest and the information it contains is.”

He unstraps the chest and dangles it over the open water with one hand. The captain’s eye widens in concern for a split second before schooling itself into indifference.

“It’s well known that I have more treasure than I know what to do with,” Captain Wilson counters, seemingly amused. “Do you really think a singular treasure chest will stop me from aiming our canons at your crew?”

“No, but I heard a rumor your enchantment from the seawitch is nearing its end and I’m well aware you’re looking for a solution.” Dick pauses, thrilled and terrified that the captain’s full focus is now on him. “A solution I hold in my hand right now.”

Captain Wilson is silent for a beat, clearly weighing his options. If they shoot Dick, his body and the treasure will potentially both plunge into the sea, he’s confident it won’t go that way but he’s made his peace if it does.

When the gruff man shakes his head in what seems like amusement, Dick feels a spark of hope. “I see you’ve been keeping track of me as thoroughly as I have you. You’ve caught me in a good mood after capturing your ship and admittedly, I admire your boldness Grayson. So, what are your demands?”

“I know you as a man of your word and I trust you know me as a man of mine, I will happily hand over this chest for the guaranteed safety of my men.” Dick promises, holding the treasure more steadily with two hands now. “A navel port is not far from here, let them row away and the chest is yours.”

The man removes his hat to better meet Dick’s eye before asking, “You’d trust the word of a pirate?”

“No, not any pirate. Just yours.”

Captain Wilson nearly smiles, although his expression’s much too sinister to be called as such; all the same, he stops his men from aiming their muskets at the lifeboats. “Come down here then, little bird, we have a deal.”

The tension leaves Dick’s body, despite him knowing his own nightmare is just beginning. His men are safe, he’s done what he’s promised. He tells himself that it doesn’t matter what happens to him as long as his men make it to that port. As he slides down the rigging and onto the deck, Captain Wilson’s eye never leaves him, there’s an uncomfortable weight to it that makes him shiver.

Dick stands straight after placing the chest at the man’s feet. In this proximity, the captain’s alpha scent is overwhelming, eagerly proclaiming him the most dangerous man on the sea. Not for the first time, Dick is glad for the Navy’s insistence on blockers… he wouldn’t have been made captain without them.

“Now, what to do with you, little Captain.” The alpha contemplates, beginning to circle Dick like a shark. “Your safety was not a part of the deal.”

Dick fights to not swallow the lump in his throat. “I am aware.”

“If you throw yourself at my feet and beg,” Captain Wilson muses, stopping in front of him. “Perhaps I’ll consider not turning you into fish bait… you and this ship have lost me a lot of money and men.”

“I know,” Dick says, clenching his fist against the nervous tremors threatening to take over his body. “I am sorry for the men, but not for the money… and I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I won’t beg either.”

An incredulous laugh escapes Captain Wilson before his menacing eye turns calculating. “Perhaps a good keelhauling will remedy that.”

Dick can’t control his trembling any longer, images flashing of when Admiral Wayne ordered Roy keelhauled for getting too friendly with Dick. He came up half drowned, his back torn to pieces by the barnacles, and promising to keep his relationship with Dick professional. He nearly died of infection that week. The scarring and distance between them remains the same today.

“I surrendered, of course you can do what you would like,” he says around the lump in his throat. “But I would warn against it.”

Captain Wilson, seeing his fear and enjoying it, tilts his head curiously. “And why is that?”

Dick forces himself to meet the man’s eye and his voice to not shake. “I’m the only person I’ve come across that can read that map, I’d be more useful to you coherent than half dead.”

The captain contemplates his words before opening the chest himself and pulling out the journals. Dick takes practiced breaths to slow his heart rate, focusing only on his crew rowing further in the distance as the alpha skims through the books.

“You really can read these?”

“Yes.”

“How? Don’t lie to me.”

“It’s my mother and father’s tongue, taught to me in secret alongside English.” Dick replies, his heart aching at the memory of his parents’ whispered lessons.

The captain looks at him as if peering into his soul, Dick doesn’t try to hide even as he feels ripped open and laid bare. “Hmm, very well. Wintergreen, has everything of use been collected?”

The first mate answers affirmatively as the last of the water and food are packed across to the Deathstroke. Dick’s heart drops into his stomach as Captain Wilson binds his hands and leads him to the other ship.

The alpha keeps a steady hand on the back of his neck as the crew of the Deathstroke unmoor the ship and ready their starboard cannons. Dick bites his lip to keep it from trembling as they aim to sink his ship, his home, his legacy, his freedom.

“Shall I have someone take him to the brig, sir?” The captain’s first mate asks.

Dick never thought he’d be relieved at the prospect of a jail cell, anything to keep the Nightwing’s memory alive and whole in his head.

Captain Wilson looks at Dick, who tries to feign indifference. A smirk pulls up the side of his face, his blue eye just as soulless as his black eyepatch.

“Not yet, I believe this is something my little Captain needs to watch. On your command, Billy.”

Dick does not cry out like he wants to as the cannon balls rip through the Nightwing’s hull. His chest feels as if an elephant has settled onto it. The Nightwing was his home, the reason he was able to be free from Bruce’s domineering command most of the year. Without a ship, Dick knows when Admiral Wayne finds him he will be back on The Bat and kept under lock and key for allowing himself to be captured. In an effort not to sob his fingernails pierce his palms and blood drips sluggishly onto the deck below him.

Captain Wilson’s fingers dig possessively into his scruff as the smell of satisfaction oozes from the man. “Even while sinking she’s a beauty.” He comments lightly as the Nightwing’s bow finally succumbs to her watery grave.

“Shall I take him now, Captain?”

“Yes,” Wilson says while turning Dick to look at him.

He still hasn’t cried, his eyes glassy with furious tears and his jaw set indignantly. The alpha soaks in his expression almost hungrily, his thumb teasing the side of Dick’s scent blockers. It’s only then that a chord of actual terror strikes him.

“But not to the brig. Take him to my quarters, I’m not done with him yet.” Captain Wilson orders, lightly shoving him into the waiting hands of his first mate.

The man, Wintergreen, takes him into the captain’s cabin and ties him to the chair bolted down in front of the large desk. It’s only once the door closes and leaves him in the dimly lit cabin that he allows his tears to fall.

[linklethehistorian]

So…as a new FNAF player — and by that I mean, a person who has loved this series for four years and counting, but only just got started with actually being able to firsthand play the games — having binged nearly the entire series by now (with just 5-7AM of Security Breach and Help Wanted 2 remaining…until Into the Pit comes out, at least), y’all were actually not cooking with all of the Security Breach hate.

Like seriously, y’all were not cooking.

“Oh, they kiddie-fied it, they took out all of the horror”

…Have you actually fucking played this game? Have you felt the atmosphere? Have you stood in the basement of the Pizzaplex and stared into the old, largely abandoned, rubble and possessed staff bot and trash-ridden, somehow supernaturally still vaguely smoldering tunnels deep underground after taking apart Chica, and for even a single moment in time, looked around and felt the weight of the emotion and the turmoil and the suffering and death that has canonically occurred over the past half a century or more and just…ruminated in it awhile?

Have you felt the experience of weaving between staff bots and murderous animatronics and hiding for dear life while watching the cameras for an opening to escape?

Have you been chased in the claustrophobic vents by something you can hear right behind you, knowing that if you slow down too long or if your sprint meter runs out, it will get you?

No, the horror elements in terms of dialogue aren’t quite as overt as the past titles. No, until you take them apart, most of the animatronics aren’t visually as overtly uncanny in design. But do they need to be for it to be terrifying? Isn’t there more to horror than being overt? Isn’t there something just as unsettling about the subtlety of sugar-coated implications, the liminality of wandering a massive closed mall after dark knowing that you are not meant to be there and no one from the outside world is coming to save you, or would even notice you’re gone?

Hasn’t a lot of that always been a major part of the charm of the FNAF series? Wasn’t the liminality and the suspense of knowing something is coming to get you at any moment — really even more than the actual moment of your death — one of the greatest things the series had to offer in terms of horror?

Is Security Breach as a game — all bugs aside, most of which I should add have been largely fixed by now anyway — really all that bad and “not in the spirit of FNAF”, or are you just judging it based solely upon its color palettes and character design, and putting on your nostalgia-tinted glasses instead of actually looking at things objectively?

Because I think it’s the latter.

Is Security Breach a perfect game? No, far from it — it has flaws and imperfections and yes, glitches, and there are some aspects that I think could have been done better, or that suffered due to wanting to not let the rating go above T. But it is a good FNAF game; I’d even go so far as to say it’s a great FNAF game. It’s probably even somewhere near the very top of the list for me in my binging of the series so far.

Don’t judge a book by its cover — or by the opinions of people who are still stuck back in the earlier days of the fandom and refuse to accept that anything happened after 2017.

There is no “old fandom vs. new fandom”. FNAF is not any less FNAF than it was during the Pizzeria Simulator era. There is no divide except for the one born from a change in the attitudes of a certain portion of older fans, who have developed a sense of entitlement to look down on newer fans/fans who are into the newer games as being “fake” fans or a “different audience”, because they refuse to accept that a “true” older fan could like anything that came out after a certain year.

Your beloved series is still alive and well.

And Security Breach deserves a whole lot more love than it gets.

[whitenoisefanfiction]

Now that I have a blog just for my writing, I have decided to put down all my current DM fics here, from my first (not so great) fic in this universe written before the end of season 2, to my current, 15 chapter WIP monster of a world build for anyone who wants to have a look.

First Fic

What is Left to yet Endure - White_Noise - Interview with the Vampire (TV 2022) [Archive of Our Own]

Summary: As the Interview ends, Daniel's condition deteriorates, and Armand has to plan.

Will the Devil always have his Minion?

Second Fic

The Night Will Come - Chapter 1 - White_Noise - Vampire Chronicles Series - Anne Rice [Archive of Our Own]

Summary: In 2024, our Vampires have finally settled and their coven is thriving. Until Lestat upsets an Elder Vampire who has access to a witch and Daniel bares the brunt of the attack. Can the Coven save Daniel? And more to the point, can Daniel survive in a time and place he knows about all too well, surrounded by a coven, or more accurately, a Theatre of Vampires?

(This one is bookverse, and not abandoned, I am just re-reading the books before I continue because I am not sure of the characters)

Third Fic

Habits of The Sleepless - Chapter 1 - White_Noise - Interview with the Vampire (TV 2022) [Archive of Our Own]

Summary: A look into the long history between the Vampire Armand and Daniel Molloy

AKA, Five Times Armand watched his favourite moral sleep and One Time he watched his beloved Fledgling wake up.

Fourth Fic (The current WIP and absolute BEAST! Holy crap, this fic is about to become the biggest thing I have ever written)

The Prince Armand - Chapter 1 - White_Noise - Interview with the Vampire (TV 2022) [Archive of Our Own]

Summary: In another world, Akasha's rise and death happened sooner. Vampires are now the dominant species, but humanity is fighting back.

Armand, the vampire Prince of the Damned, is trying to live his undead life under the thumb of Marius, avoid an arranged relationship and help his only friend Louis live through the abandonment of his maker. And the human Daniel Molloy is just trying to avoid the notice of any blood suckers, practice his craft as a reporter and maybe survive long enough to publish the biggest story of his life.

Their worlds are about to collide.

(Aka, another 70s era DM Chase Fic but with a twist)

[smolvenger]

A Court of Mischief and Purpose, Chapter Four (Loki x fem! Reader, A Court of Thorns and Roses Hiddlesverse AU)

Summary: Sarah J Maas's A Court of Thorns and Roses series reimagined with Tom Hiddleston's various characters. England. 1885. You are dying of tuberculosis right before your upcoming wedding to the Lusty Vicar of Aldwinter, Will Ransome. As you lay on what could be your deathbed, the god of mischief Loki appears before you with a deal. He will heal you in time for the wedding...if you spend a week of every month with him. When the time comes to fulfill your end of the bargain, you are introduced to a world full of more magic and danger than you could possibly imagine...

Content Warnings: LOTS OF ANGST AT THE BEGINNING! Cheating (not Loki, but...* takes a long sip of a fun little drink with a straw*...dealing with Will Ransome's canon actions and portraying them as bad so Will fans and Lusty Vicarettes you have been warned). Y/N going absolutely feral because I support women's wrongs. Hurt/Comfort Elements Period Typical Attitudes. Mentions of sex and religion and drinking. Typical and fixable grammar mistakes.

Chapter Summary: You confront Will about his infidelity.

Chapter Word Count: 6K

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @muddyorbsblr (special shout out for a suggestion for this chapter that worked well!)

Chapter One//Chapter Two//Chapter Three

There was silence. Pure silence. Will’s jaw unhinged and his mouth opened, but he did not say a word. The last word rang in the air with the heaviness of a bullet being fired.

 Whore-Whore-Whore.

You glared at him in his beautiful blue eyes. Feeling everything at once looking at him- hatred and adoration, fury and grief and love.

His eyes glared back. You had done it. You had called Cora a whore. You knew he wouldn’t stand it. You could see him tense up, ready to chastise you for what you did. To stand up for her. You could see it in him, see the words forming. Then his jaw closed.  Then he stopped. There was hesitation. You knew he would rush to her defense. And you were ready for a fight. To scold you for what you said- the ugly names you just called his mistress, his real beloved.

 But instead, no, what he asked was this in a quiet, calm tone.

“Y/N, why did you call her that?”

A wave of emotion washed over you. You couldn’t take him anymore- playing ignorant. He should know bloody well why you called her that.

Leaning over, in a split second, you raised your hand and slapped him as hard as you could across his face. So hard, you let out a small grunt as you did. It stung from the swift impact of your hand across his cheek. You could feel the tears welling up already in your eyes as you retreated your hand. He nursed the pink spot on the cheek you once kissed with a hand you once loved to hole.

“Do not lie to me- you know exactly what I mean. I should have done that at the wedding. You- are…you’re having an affair with her Will. Don’t deny it- I saw the love letters! I saw you kiss her!”

You were shaking hard. This was too horrible to be real. This had to be a nightmare. You should have seen the inside of his house, his desk, his tall bookshelves on your wedding day when you were to be brought there as Mrs. Ransome. Not as a fiancée betrayed for another like you were just a toy abandoned by a bored child.  The tears began to make their trails down your face.

“The bishop would counsel us, I remember. He’d tell us we were already considered married…and You dare to break a sacred vow you made before your own God?” you accused.

He began to blink rapidly. His voice remained low.

“I was so…tormented about it…”

“You think you’re the tormented one?!!” you cried.

He held his hands up and continued.

“Cora has endured more than any woman ever should…the things her husband did to her…he’d strangle her, beat her.  I opened up a bit of her collar and saw…saw a bruise, there on her skin. I wanted to…to…comfort her.”

“You could comfort her in ways that don’t involve fucking her in the forest!” you argued, your voice raising.

He kept going on, his voice still quiet.

“She…she…she and I…we are…we are like two bits of one soul…”

“So, which is more important, Will- your cock or my dignity?!” you asked furiously.

He looked up at you. You saw a small flinch from the obscene word, but he remained still. There was another heavy pause.

“Of course, you are more important…” he answered.  “Please have pity on Cora. She has…been through much. She focuses on science, not emotions. She told me…She thinks love is a weakness and it’s not!”

“Her love for you?! Her love for you?!” you cried.

You stood up, gripping the table.

“You promised to love me. You said you could be a devoted fiancée, a devoted husband…So the time we spent together was nothing?! The times you danced with me-they  were for nothing? My every visit to church and every minute I held my tongue and made myself perfect to become your wife was for nothing!? Your gifts-your kisses and promises and declarations-nothing? What of me! Did you forget- you told me every day you loved me! And I love you, Will!  So- is that a weakness? Am I boring?! Am I nothing? Am I nothing to you?! Why is she important and not I? Why is it about her and not I? I’ve known you for years and you now declare to love for a woman you’ve known for four months?! Do you even hear yourself, Will!?”

He frowned and lowered his eyes to the table.

“It wasn’t for nothing, Y/N. I love you…”

You interrupted him.

“Will- you say you love me; you say I am important; you say all of this- but your actions are telling a different story!”

Your voice lowered. You hugged yourself.

“Did you never…. try and resist her? Fight for me? At least try? And did you not think…think to consider…that I’d be hurt?”

This time, he began to tear up a little. But his face remained stoic. He looked off to the side.

“You were dying…. I thought I would lose you forever…and that night, you told me to dance with her.”

Then, suddenly, was a voice in your head. A familiar lilting voice. Too familiar, too like Will’s. But it wasn’t him.

“It’s about time you confronted him, darling.”

You turned around. Was Loki there? Appearing out of the shadows to witness this spectacle? Yet he didn’t appear. Dear God, were you mad?

“No- you’re not mad darling. It’s only your favorite god of mischief here” Loki responded in your head.

“What are you doing?” you thought back.

“Just watching….your thoughts are too loud. Granted, I could be sleeping. But this…this is too interesting.” Loki replied.

You snapped you back to reality, hearing the voice before you.  

“You were…you were dying…you were at death’s door…” Will argued.

“But I was still alive, Will! You thought I was implying for you to fuck her?! No! Dancing is not the same as…as…as an affair! How hard is that to understand?  I said to dance with her! Nothing more!” you responded.”

Your hands curled into fists. He looked back at you with sad eyes and a clenched jaw.

“Do you…realize what this means? This is more than how you have hurt me-When I marry you, you are my foundation for society. My only means of having the money to survive. You’d be the roof over my head- and for our children if we had them! I cannot scrub floors on my own after I marry you- because every penny and every check they give me will go to you! If you leave me and flee with her, I have nothing to protect me. If you took our children with you- I would never get them back because they’d be your children by law, not mine.  I will be dependent on the charity of others all my life, clinging to whatever money you send back. But if you refused to give me one pound to spend it all on Cora-you could legally get away with it! Don’t you realize - this is a threat to my future?!” you cried.

His face softened and he shook his curly head.

“You know I would never do that to you, Y/N…” he replied.

“But you still betrayed me for another woman…is Cora…better than me? Prettier? Superior? What does she have that I lack?” you asked.

He was quiet. He began to blink rapidly.

“You love me…and you told her love isn’t a weakness- so is SHE your weakness?! Or rather-is your love for her your strength and am I the weak one?!” you pressed.

“I…I do love you…but with her I…I…I don’t even have any words to say…” William replied.

You felt your face scrunch up and you felt hot.  Then Loki’s Voice rang in your head again.

 “You should tell where he could shove his Bible, it would be funny!”

But instead, you took his Bible. You held it, feeling the soft brown cover. It was large and worn from so much use over the years. You then looked at him and the book and back at him.

“One thing disturbs me the most- Do you understand what God himself says about this, Will?! What Jesus said about it? How it’s better to pluck your eye out! It’s a commandment, Will- and you dare break it to sleep with her when you promised yourself to me!? How can you go to the pulpit- how can you represent morality in this town?! How can you look at yourself?!”

You wiped off a tear with your hand and continued.

“I loved you because you were open-minded. You weren’t some fire and brimstone Puritan, but you were kind and spoke of love…now I see you were TOO open-minded if you think this is remotely acceptable!” you cried, the Bible shaking in your grip.

This glass of wine I’m having right now is perfect for this. Maybe I should spare one for you too, hm? Loki quipped.

He eyed the book carefully, then he went up to you.

“I must tell you…I went to church right after this morning and I…I prayed. I prayed in the field too, after… I fell on my knees in the church and prayed to God…”

You felt your mouth curl into a snarl. You then lowered your eyes to the Bible. If this was hysteria, you gave into it.

“You know how I like history. And if I recall correctly-The church of England was started by Henry the Eighth-to throw out his own wife who loved him. His wife of many years. To toss her away like she was dirt for another woman. In that case, you’re a perfect vicar.”

You threw the Bible onto the floor-papers flew out. It broke. William ran over, getting onto his knees on the floor in a hurry. He began to hurriedly pick it back up, putting papers back to where they were.

“Love’s not a weakness, is it Will?!Well- it might not be, but I’m about to make you even weaker!” you snarled.

You gave him a sharp kick to the ribs, and he jumped and groaned in pain from your foot. You wished it was possible to kick his crotch. Yet he still fumbled to get the papers and the Bible.

You then knelt to be on his level, flinging your fists to him.  Punching, slapping his beautiful face in a blind fury of the screams and sobs that escaped your throat. He grunted and took some of it, trying to duck what he could while gathering the book. Then he left it and turned to you. Will kept repeating your name, trying to block what hits he could, down on his knees with the floor with you, trying to calm you. It didn’t work.

You glanced at him. The reddish-blonde hair and goatee you once thought- and did think- incredibly handsome. The goatee that tickled the first time he kissed you. The hair that swept in the wind when you walked together. You yanked at his curls to pull it off. He shouted “ah!” and got your arm to stop you. Impulsively, your fingers pinched at the hair of his goatee and plucked at it- trying to rip it out. He let out a cry of pain. Then he grabbed hold of your forearms to keep from attacking him.

“Y/N-Y/N, my love- please!”

“You’re a bastard, Will Ransome! You’re a bastard! A BASTARD!” you shouted.

He finally grabbed your fists. He was so strong, he tried to pull you into an embrace but you pulled away. You felt his large hands become a grip.

“Y/N! I…I love you…I love you so much! Please, Please for-”

He never finished that sentence. You curled up your saliva and spat in his face. He flinched, then released his hand to wipe if off.  You jumped up to your feet. You curled your hands into fists as you backed to the door.

“I loved you, William. I-LOVED you. I gave you everything. I was ready to be this perfect, pristine wife for you-your ministry. I was ready to give you my time, the rest of my youth, my energy, my prayers, my devotion, my virginity, my body- everything! Do you know why I made the bargain? So I could live to be with you-to make you happy. I gave you everything. But now I see the truth.  …”

“Y/N…darling…I do love you…” he pleaded, still on the floor.

You got closer to the door.

“You don’t want a wife, Will. You want a woman to be a martyr for you. To suck her until she’s dry and has nothing left. All while you won’t give her a drop. No one was forcing you to be with Cora, there was no reason- and you slept with her anyway just because you were bored of me. You were bored. She made your cock hard. And you pitied her little sob story and could think of no alternative of consolation than fucking her. And you never considered, even as I was lying in bed, that I needed you there. That my last moments on Earth could be by you, being loved by you-knowing I Was loved and wanted and valued. It would have been better if I died of consumption, believing you still cared about me enough to put my needs before yours…as I did for you…”

You were crying and you could feel snot running from your nose. Your face was hot. Then you turned and looked into those beautiful blue eyes with an overwhelming fury rising in your voice.  

“William, you are a disgrace to the priesthood, to morals, to ethics, to righteousness. You knew very well what your own faith says about this-and you fucked her anyway.”

You turned to open the door. Then returned to look at him as he got up, clinging his Bible and sermon papers.

“Adultery itself is unacceptable But you are more than an adulterer, Will- you’re a hypocrite!”

You slammed the door shut. Then you began running. You knew he’d run after you. You picked up the pace through the dark streets. You were crying. Your lungs burned, but you ran. You never looked at the ocean or the town. Not even a glance to see if he would chase you. You only ran past the streets, right into the forest. Where he couldn’t find you. Where you could be alone.

 You heard a bit of his name calling after you, in an echo. You ran to the shadows of the trees. You hid behind a large oak, the sharp bark prickling your fingers. You heard William’s voice.

“Y/N! Y/N! Come back! Y/N! Where are you?!”

Perhaps you should have fled to someone’s house. You should wake up Stella in her bed-for she, best of everyone, would listen more than speak. She would let you cry into her blue shawls. She would hug you and tell you how it would be better. But she was asleep.

You should have ran home. Ran to cry to your parents. Or anyone in town. But you knew what they would say.

“You’re being irrational. Think of how your reputation will be tarnished should you call it off. And what are you thinking? There was no better match for a lady than William Ransome. So, what if he did something? Men are weak to temptation-it’s just the way they are. Don’t make yourself into a martyr!? You should care first for his home and self being peaceful. You must go through with the marriage! It will be a life of stability with a good, moral man. A good, moral man!”

A very good, moral man indeed, you thought.

You sank into the ground. Tears kept pouring out of you. You nestled up against the tree. Trying to savor what warmth you could. Though there was the rustling of leaves and you heard birds and owls. How peaceful it was when your heart was breaking in pieces.

“Please…I need help…I need to get out of here…I can’t face him…I can’t face anyone…I can’t marry this man. I’m trapped, I’m trapped…” you thought.

It became calm. There were crickets in the night. The sound lulled you. Your emptiness from your rage made you exhausted. Before you knew it, it all became black as you curled up in the forest. Leaving all consciousness as you curled up onto the ground by the tree.

Consciousness arrived. It was still dark in your vision. You felt strong arms holding you up against something warm- flesh like.  And a voice. A familiar voice.

Had William picked you up and carried you back to town? He would. Damn him, he would. That wonderful, horrible man. You didn’t want to open your eyes to see him. You had no strength. You didn’t feel like fighting back. It was as if the crying had drained you dry. You may as well resolve yourself to your fate. Wife to an unfaithful man. You had nothing in you to fight.

Then you felt movement beneath you- something breathing beneath you. A strong smell. You felt hair bristle you. A brushing of lips- a horse.

But you heard…another voice. Another familiar, light, lilting voice. A woman’s voice.

“Poor Y/N! Thank God! Please…please take care of her! Wherever this Asgard is- take care of her!”

Stella! You realized.

“I shall, fair lady. She will be safe there, you have my honored word she shall,” the male voice holding you replied.

He didn’t talk like Will. Then you realized you did recognize it. Henry the Fifth- or Hal!

“But…why was she here? Poor thing- all alone! Do you know? Did something happen?” Stella asked.

“My lady, I do not know. But you must be glad the god of mischief himself is not here and I am. He is capable of many things. And you understand what his powers could do. Anyone who crosses with him soon regrets it.”

“I...I do…” she agreed.

“Then…then I’m off.”

“Please take care of her!”

“We all shall, dear lady.”

There was a sharp turn, and you heard the whinny of a horse. It began to run beneath you. In only a few seconds, there was a blur of light from your closed eyes. The horse kept running. You weren’t fully there yet, but you could hear things, feel things.  It wasn’t time for the bargain yet, but you didn’t care. Darkness overcame you. Before you knew it, it was dark, you felt yourself brought from one pair of arms to another. There was a murmur of voices. Some of them similar. Familiar. Too familiar. An echo. A pebble dropped into the ocean where it rippled. And you were carried.

Finally, you regained enough consciousness to gather that you were in that familiar guest room. You were in Asgard, you realized. In the palace. And right near your bed was Loki. He sat in a chair. A scene you had seen before. The sun was setting there-it was beginning to fall into the purple shadows of night.

“What is it…what’s going on…” you asked.

Loki appeared.

“You ran to the forest and collapsed. You’re in Asgard, Y/N…you’re safe for now…you can process what happened. You can grieve.”

You shook your head.

“You’ll tell me that my grief is excessive…” you said.

“I will say nothing, then.”

“What a challenge for you! But…Will…he…” you began to stutter.

You began blinking. Then you curled up and let the tears fall again.

“He was….everything to me. And now he… My own fiancée. The man I was ready to marry…it’s like he became the serpent and slithered from my side to the bed of another..”

You wiped off tears with your sleeve. You realized you were put into a light nightgown.

“No wonder…Cora’s beautiful and exciting and smart and I’m ugly and boring and nothing…I’m weak compared to her…you can say it, Loki…”

He leaned forward, touching his chin and examining you.

“I will say this- You only look miserable and exhausted…and I did promise you a drink-here. I put the potion mixed with some wine. You need it far more than I right now.”

He handed you the goblet. You took a deep drink. You felt it lull you.

“Get some rest, Y/N. You haven’t slept well in days….”

“H-How…how did you know?” you asked. Taking another sip of the potion.

“Well…in short, darling, I can hear your thoughts. Ever since the bargain, they keep coming to me…”

“Why can’t I hear yours?”

“You should be able to…it’ll take some practice, but you can. But for now…you need to drink your potion and get some sleep, Y/N.”

You cupped both hands around the glass. It was a little bit of red wine, but it was mainly the potion, making the flavor sweeter than normal with some added honey inside. The star marks on your hands seemed a little sore and you rubbed it with your finger. How was it the bargain made you hear each other’s thoughts? Before you could ask, Loki settled the blankets over you. He then walked outside, closing the door with a squeak. As you nestled into the blankets, you heard voices talking in the hallway. Their echoes impossible to ignore.

“So, she’s not a new soldier for this battle? Why her? Wouldn’t the tracker instead be a little more useful?” asked one.

“Don’t be hard on her, Rob. She could be useful. But she should be careful….” Replied another.

“Oh, Jon-don’t push Y/N darling into a battle yet! She fainted in the woods just hours ago! The woman’s distraught!” you heard Loki reply.

“Distraught? What do you mean?” the voice asked.

“Walk down with me, gentlemen, and I’ll explain it in short….” Loki offered.

You heard the footsteps go down the marble hall. Then you could not distinguish any words. The potion lulled you into a deep, blissful sleep.

When you awoke, it was a nice morning. You heard birds- to think you were in a different world and birds still chirruped. Was this the next day? Very likely it was the next day by now in your world, in Midgard. But here, it was morning.

It was Sunday. It would be hard not to think of Will on Sundays.

There was a knock on the door. It was a servant bringing some breakfast. A wooden tray with poached eggs, buttered toast, fresh fruit, and plump sausage links.

“Could I have coffee?” you asked.

The servant blinked.

“What is that?” she asked.

Loki’s voice rang in your head with a sigh.

“Oh, allow me.”

With a whiff of green magic, a blue, porcelain cup with the rich drink appeared on the tray. It warmed your hands as you held it, like a small hug in a cup.

After scarfing it all down, another brought you some clothes. They would be long, flowy robes the blue of a robin’s egg secured with a bronze belt. They were pretty, you had to admit. But you only sat in your room on the chair. Staring out the window. Thinking. Ruminating. Playing the scene that happened last night. Then playing through every memory you had of Will.

There was the time in spring when you played with his dog by throwing sticks for the pet to fetch under the blossoming trees. There was the time he walked around in the muck of the marshes. Mud and dirty got on his clothes and face. So when he returned to town, you cleaned off his face with your handkerchief. The time he proposed, and you through your arms over her broad shoulders and embraced him with a “yes.” Every polite kiss on the hand that scratched from his goatee. Every lovely dance at a party where he looked in your eye as you both moved to swelling string music. Every sermon that you took note of while admiring the grey morning light of the church and on his white robes with green sashes.

Then the letters. The morning in the field. Cora.

 Every flash of his black with the small white flap of the collar that made you smile and your heart race with excitement. The sign that he represented God. Now it was something different. Black on white made your insides watery-once he represented God and now, he represented all things bad and wrong with the life. No- not with life-with men.

There was a knock on the door. Loki opened it. You stayed at the chair, turning to him. He was in his usual black and green robes. His blue eyes bright and his face had a gentle frown, rather than the proud, smug smile that was typical of him.

“How are you now? Slept alright?” he asked.

“Hadn’t slept this well in ages….” You answered.

“Do you…need anything, darling?”

“Don’t call me darling. And no.” you replied.

He took a step forward. You feel yourself lean a little back. The sunshine of outside melted its golden light into the room. It illuminated his face. It made the little embellishments on his clothes glow and patches of it warmed your skin.

“If you need anything, let a servant know. Or me.”

“If you can read my thoughts now, why bother asking?” you asked.

“Just to make sure, Y/N,” he said.

You stood up and crossed your arms.

“Why are you even here? Offering all these things, making me coffee in a cup?  I know why-only offer nice things to me, so I owe you. To force me to sleep with you. How disappointing-You might be a god, but you’re just like all the other men.”

You turned to look out the window. He let in a deep sigh, his eyebrows briefly shooting up. He didn’t reply at your comment.

“The gardens and libraries and every nook of the library is free for you, should you want them.” He offered. Then he closed the door and left.

You did not feel like talking to Thor. As you passed him, you would only smile in greeting.

“Why-Y/N? What’s the matter?” he asked in his booming voice.

“Nothing, just…leave me alone…” you said, increasing your pace.

You curled up in the library. You grabbed volumes of sad romantic poetry. You read and re-read them to cry and cry your heart out. It was a release. It was something- the sadness that never left you.

I was never enough for Will. I’m not enough for him, for anyone… you kept thinking. When the last rumble of your latest crying session ended, you felt raw. Squeezed out like a wrinkled fruit. You noticed tear stains on the pages of the book. When you looked out the window, you realized how much time had passed. It was either the late afternoon or early evening. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

“I’m not in the mood, Loki!” you dismissed.

“I’m not Loki, my lady…” answered a similar voice.

When you opened the door, you saw Prince Hal.  He had two silver glasses of what smelled like wine.

“He told me what happened. And I thought dealing with my father was bad.”

He walked inside. He handed you the wine. It’s dry, rich taste was welcoming. As you wiped your mouth, you noticed the deep red stain on your sleeve. The fireplace to the library crackled with a fresh ember.  Both of you sat on the chair and sipped your glasses.

“So, it was you who brought me here?” you asked.

“Yes. Loki said he heard your cry for help. Your pain. He didn’t tell me why at the time, but he insisted I go and fetch you. He used his magic to send me there- said you deserved a ‘handsome prince on a horse’ to help you. But that his kind of prince would not be preferable to you. Hence me.”

You nestled into the chair. Hal cupped his goblet with one hand and began to take big drinks of it down.

“You said Loki…he told you what…what Will did…” you prodded.

Hal nodded, you could see an auburn curl fall free from his head.

“Yes. He did, he confirmed.

“And you saw Stella?” you asked.

He blinked rapidly. His eyes went to the corner and then back to yours in realization.

“Ah! The maid? That was her name? To be honest, I think she saw me. She was the first to find you,” he recalled.

“The First? She was in the forest at night?” you asked.

“Not night- the early morning. She was up early- I saw she had a basket for picking berries, as maids do. I heard her cry for help. Twas how I found you. I watched the maid pitifully try to carry you and fail- her delicacy not strong enough to carry you back to safety. You should have seen her amazement upon my steed. I told her who I was and who sent me, and she believed me. Then I could carry you like a babe and set us both on the horse and away. Her gentle heart fretted over you, my lady. I had to assure you many times you would be safe here in Asgard.”

You nodded. For the first time, you smiled at her. At the memory of your friend.

“Stella’s a good friend of mine. I’m glad she found me…” you responded.

Hal finished his wine with a big gulp. You weren’t even halfway done.

“You…you loved your intended. And he hurt you…I cannot imagine what it is to be hurt like that,” he said.

You made no comment, staring at the dark red of your wine in your cup. So dark, that it almost looked black. Hal then leaned forward, half ready to spring up from his chair.

“Perhaps…we should go to a tavern here. We’ll have another drink or two. I’ll tell you how I once scared an old man robbing a lord-get your mind off!” he offered with a smile and a wink.

A tavern. A place with low-lives, drunkards, and street walkers. A place where he would be emboldened with drinking and partying. Hal would flirt with you and smile at you. And then he would offer a room with one bed for the night. And it would not be for sleeping. Will seemed calm. He seemed chaste and appropriate. He seemed respectful of you. He seemed focused on God and his position. But his shaking cock could not lie. If this was how vicars acted, then how would this wild prince be like?  No-no you had no taste. No- that was what Hal was after!

“No thank you, Hal. But…thank you for the wine.”

With that, Hal left.

The next two days followed that pattern. You took long baths full of hot water and scented soaps. You walked in the garden, never wanting to talk to anyone-not even Queen Frigga. You went to the library and curled up on a chair watching the fire, mostly to read the sad love poetry and wallow. You cried in every spot. On the garden bench, on the library rug, by a stone column, and on the long, marble steps. You cried in the morning. You cried in the afternoon. You cried at night. You would wake up late at night and begin crying again. You drank wine and stuffed yourself full of every tray of food. But thankfully, with the potion, your sleeping improved. You would awake to orange morning light and the crisp cool of the air of a new day. Refreshed and feeling new energy in you than the heavy weight of insomnia.  

On the third day, Loki knocked on the door again to you. You were just enjoying a cup of coffee (the staff of Asgard figured out how to make some especially for you) and looking over the pages of a book you borrowed from the library.

“Y/N…do you want to return home?”

You shook your head.

“No. I can’t. I’m not ready,” you answered.

“But…anything from your home you would like?” he asked.

“I would like…my clothes. And my journal and embroidery from home.”

“You mean-the bustle and all those heavy skirts?” he asked with a curl of his lips.

You gave him a frown, furrowing your brow.

“Yes, my bustle and skirts!” you insisted.

Loki let out a sigh then tipped his head to the side.

“That can be done.”

“Loki…why are you so kind to me?” you asked, folding your arms in a hug for yourself.

Loki shrugged.

“It’s not a good look on the palace to have a guest be unhappy.”

“You sure do seem a little too grateful just for giving you milk,” you replied.

“I am not an ungrateful man, despite what my father will tell you…” he said. You got up from your chair and took a step closer to him.

“Loki…do you…do you know what’s going on back home? I know Stella saw Hal. And Hal told her I was taken to Asgard.” You asked.

“She’s telling them that you were hurt and was sent to Asgard for help.”

“So, they believe her?”

“Of course, they don’t believe her. They believed in a serpent. Now that they have been proven there is no serpent, but there is me, their imaginations are still running. They keep whispering to each other how you were abducted by the Norse God to be his whore. Doesn’t matter if it’s true or not to them-That’s what they believe. Makes for a good story, don’t you think?”

You decided not to ask about Will.

With a flick of Loki’s hand, out came a dress, corset, bustle, stockings, and petticoats and bustle laid on your bed. The dress was one of your own and a favorite of yours for the day- white with green stripes and pink embellishments. With another snap of his fingers, you saw your old journal and your embroidery, thread, and needles were there on the desk.

You smiled.

“Thank you.”

“Ah- I finally get one from you.”

He went over to the bed, observing the clothes.

“The more I look, the less bad I think they are…. your time’s fashion,” he commented.

“They are mine. They are a part of me- and it’s how I like to dress. I, for one, think your Asgardian dress is strange!” you shot back.

He crossed his arms and then leaned against the wall. You noticed a small laugh escape him in just a exhale. But then he flashed a handsome, winning smile.

“Oh- wait until you meet the others. There’s three- the new one dresses right in your era. But the other two of them are dressed strange, I can tell you that!”

You turned up.

“New men?”

“Yes- the new form. We’re all making a circle of each other for support!”

“For your war!”

“The one from your time is busy right now-so he will very likely be late. But the two others- the ones from the future- they will be here today at breakfast. But…I know that you have been taking your meals alone…I don’t wish to bother you,” Loki shrugged. “Like I said, it’s mainly for a meeting. About this little war. The danger to our worlds and all that.  But you might as well distract yourself. Unless you’re not ready…”

You got up.

“No…I’d like to meet them, please. Just let me get dressed.” You insisted.

He smiled and then left to give you privacy.

You sighed with relief putting on your own fashions. It felt like missing a part of your skin. You didn’t feel like a creature in a zoo repeating a mindless pattern. No, you were a person. Once you were done, you opened the door. Loki was pacing about. He stopped and smiled at you.

“Here- allow me to escort you…”

Loki offered his arm. You hesitated, then You took it and began to walk with him. He felt warm from being so close. Even the leather of his sleeve was warm. He did smile a small smile but offered no remarks to you. That is, until you finally walked into the dining room. Of course, Hal was there, running a hand through his hair.

“Ah! My lady! You’re right here! You can meet them!” Hal said with a greeting smile.

“Who’s them?” you asked.

As if on cue, in walked another gentleman. He had the same look as them if you saw his face- cheekbones and blue eyes. But his skin was a bit tan, and his hair was short. Blonder than the others. He wore strange clothes- you could see a white shirt with a blue jacket and blue pants that matched. Though he looked at you. He at once went up and shook his hand and smiled.

“Oh- you are out and ready? Are you a guest here as well? The woman from Aldwinter?” he asked. His voice was formal and his manners proper, despite the oddity of his clothes.

“Yes, I am,” you confirmed. Loki let you go from his arm as you approached the gentleman.

“Pleasure to meet you- my name is Jonathan Pine.”

You curtsied and he looked at you in amusement. His hand reached out to shake yours, then it retreated.

“Pleased to meet you, I’m Y/N,” you replied dutifully.

Loki let out a little laugh. He stayed standing, pulling up a chair intended to be yours.

“Oh, Jonathan! You do have a weakness for beautiful women in need of help!”

Jonathan shot him a look.

“I’m only greeting her, sir,” he said.

“You’re not at work, Jonathan-and no one’s here to watch you. You can finally relax here…” came another voice.

In walked another similar looking fellow. Only he had redder hair that was a touch longer. He wore a white shirt and dark pants and something funny and dark around his neck. His sleeves were rolled up and you saw a watch around his wrist. But something in his pale face and there was a slight sadness in his eye.  But he looked up at you and they shone.

“Ah, the new girl!” the stranger said.

He went up and shook your hand. You were a little shocked at the intimacy-touching a man you didn’t know!-but went with it.

“I hear Hal gave you quite a ride the other day. Well, I can give you one too if you like,” he said with a wink.

You felt yourself become hot and flustered and fluttered your eyes down. You even frowned and when your eyes went up you glared at him.

“Sir! Do not speak to me in that way when I don’t even know your name!” you said.

“Oh, please- Robert! You don’t even know her name! Robert, this is Y/N. Y/N- this is Doctor Robert Laing. I promise you, he doesn’t bite!” Loki assured.

“Hard” added Robert with a playful shrug.

With that, the men sat at their seats before the food and you.

Loki swept his arms up. “And now I was told the other would be late- we may begin gentlemen…and lady…”

[nrdmssgs]

The dropouts (part 5)

Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3 I Part 4 I you are here I Part 6

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort, action, slow burn.

Pairing: Olga 'Zhar' Samoilova (OC) x Nikto

Summary: “When your life feels like too much - is there any way I can help?”

TWs: This whole series will be revolving around a person living with an acute dissociative disorder. Swearing.

AN: Guys, I bring my beloved Lastochkas at last. The OCs of my dear friends. They are all military and they are Zhars friends. Riot from these series belongs to @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot. Mini from various series belongs to @sofasoap. Mylene from Desideira and the Bloodsport belongs to @siilvan

After an hour of chasing his sleep, Nikto seems to have memorized all the smallest details of her room, seen from her bed. After the shower, a few rounds of circling the room, checking his phone for a good dozen of times and shifting and turning under a blanket, he abandons the last hopes to fall asleep. Because all his senses go wild here. Her pillow smells like her, and this alone turns out to be enough to send his mind spiraling.

Nikto turns on the other side and meets a still gaze of a Shark plushie.

“Yeah, sorry, mate, stuck with me today,” he grunts, not being able to hold back a smile imagining once again, how this serious, collected, constantly occupied, grown-ass ‘commander Zhar’ comes to her room after a long day and curls up with a stuffed shark. 

But then another image pops up in his mind: her hands clasping around the plush body, face buried under shark's gray-blue snoot, shoulders flinching with quiet sobs. Maybe this is how she looked after returning from that mission, where they first met.

He clenches his teeth and turns back, now facing the door. Deep inside, Nikto wanted to talk about what happened, but he just didn't know what to say. “Hey, sorry for trying to kill you, by the way, there are a good dozen of different personalities sharing my brain and body, and they are so not ok about you”? 

Oh yes, charming.

He remembers how she asked him “why ‘Nikto’?” at the dinner, and he hid behind the most moronic answer.

“You wouldn't really like to know.”

The only thing, that brought him peace was her answer to his question about her callsign.

“Wouldn't want to know.”

And that was that: everything they could share with each other. Just a wall of distrust. She could have let him to her base, give Nikto her room, her bed even. But that didn't shorten the distance between them.

Nikto tosses and turns sleeplessly in bed for what feels like hours. One minute he can't get enough of her deep and sweet scent, another minute he suffocates. The night feels like a curse, until a sudden noise brings him back to reality.

Careful steps echoing down the hall. The sound approaches his door, grows louder, then pauses right next to his room for a moment. As if someone's checking on him. Nikto fights off a once again awakening chorus in his head and waits. After a few seconds, the mysterious lurker continues their walk down the hall. But this leaves Nikto no hope for a sleep, so he throws off the blanket irritably and, putting on a balaclava and sweatshirt, leaves the room.

He follows the sound of footsteps and soon catches Zhar, walking with a massive ashtray in one hand and an old, bulky bag in another. She doesn't seem to notice him following her as she doesn't slow down or turn back. Nikto isn't even sure, what does he need from Olga, but it feels like a necessity - just to be around a little longer before they part yet again.

She reaches the stairs and descends to the floor before an open window between two bays. Weak night illumination draws out her movements - smooth and careful so as not to inadvertently wake up her people. She is tired, it can be seen in the way she walked here, but even now Olga takes care of her people. Even in such little things.

Zhar rests her back against a higher step and stretches with a sigh of relief. She puts the bag under her legs and places the ashtray next to her. Everything about this scene: a peaceful silence, a relaxed curve of her shoulders, an effortless elegance, she maintains, simply relaxing there, draws Nikto closer. As if there is a fireplace next to her, and he was freezing for his whole life before this very moment.

Olga lights a cigarette, but does it strangely - as one would light an incense stick. She carefully places the cigarette on the edge of the ashtray, letting it smolder and emit thin tendrils of smoke that curl languidly into the air. Her eyes follow the smoke, lost in thought, as if contemplating something far away and unseen.

Nikto remains silent, his breath shallow as he observes her. There is something almost ethereal about her, the way she moves, the way she exists in this moment. 

Without turning, she speaks, her voice soft but carrying an undeniable command. 

"Are you just going to stand there, or will you join me?"

She had noticed him all along. A rush of emotions surges through him — embarrassment mostly, but also curiosity. He approaches slowly, the space between them closing with each step until he stands before her.

"How did you know I was there?" he asks, his voice betraying his surprise.

She smiles faintly, her eyes still focused on the swirling smoke. 

"You have a presence that's hard to miss."

He settles on the step beside her, feeling both exposed and oddly comforted. Her gaze finally meets his, and Zhar smiles faintly, obviously reading his confusion.

“I mean, you're massive, Andrei. You may walk quietly, but your shadow betrays you.”

“Just Andre, please.” Nikto takes out his cigarettes to avoid an awkward pause.

Andrei is long dead and forgotten - there is only Andre left, and even he hides behind the Nobody. But that is not a story to be shared now out of the blue.

She pushes the ashtray towards him, leaving it out of her hand reach, and answers his unspoken question.

“I don't smoke. Used to serve under the man, who smoked cigars. Sometimes, when the time between the missions felt particularly unbearable - he took me on a smoking pause. He took a few drags and I just sat next to him. We didn't even talk, but it just brought everything to its right places, fixed me. So now I do these little pauses, when the life becomes… too much.” Olga almost swallows the last words as if she is ashamed to admit it.

Nikto looks away, trying to grant her at least some privacy, but the last part of her story cant leave him indifferent.

“Your life feels like too much right now?”

“No,” she huffs awkwardly, “Not at all… Anyway, Andre, can I ask a personal question?”

A desperate attempt to shift his concentration, yet an effective one. Nikto nods and tucks his balaclava slightly down to light up his cigarette. A lighter clicks, briefly lighting up his face.

“That thing, that happened to you back on a battlefield…”

Fuck no. Please, not now.

Andre takes a deep drag and holds his breath, waiting for Zhar to finish her question. Sooner or later, this conversation happens to everyone who is more or less familiar with Nikto. 

What's wrong with you? So you hear this voices in your head? You tried ignoring them? Oh, I saw this movie about a crazy guy, who…

He hates it. Everyone around seem to know better what should he do. And as they go on and on, yapping about his experience - they stop seeing a person. Instead, there is only a diagnosis left in his place for them. 

Oh, that guy… The crazy one, yes?

“That thing… Is there any way I could help you back then?” 

He turns to her, discouraged by an unexpected question, not caring about a lower part of his face getting exposed. If it wasn't for a heavy smoke filling his throat now - he would feel a lump forming there. He blinks a few times, searching for the right words, but Olga gets ahead of him.

“It's ok if you don't want me to poke my way into your business. It's your life, I'm not trying to become a part of it. So if you don't feel like talking - just send me to hell. No hard feelings.”

Oh, but you are a part of it. If only you knew, if only you could hear, what's going on inside that skull.

“No,” Nikto lets out a stream of smoke that fills the air between them, “not sending you anywhere. Just don't think, you could help. Hell, in fact you left me alive, that was quite helpful.”

Zhar smiles, but something shifts in her gaze. Her green eyes seem to gradually fade, become empty. Andre's best guess is that she's used to smile, when a situation dictates her too, even when she's not happy. They both look at her ‘timer-cigarette’ that is already half way done and Nikto realizes, she might leave soon.

“Olga? A personal question for a personal question, hm?”

“Shoot,” Zhar arches her back, stretching her full body.

“When your life feels like too much - is there any way I can help?”

It's her turn to hold her breath. As if they both are so used to do everything alone, that such a question is completely foreign to them. 

“Lets see… I'm not sure, but actually, there is something, you can do-”

Anything. Nikto catches this word in his throat and doesn't let it out. Some things are better left as silent pleas.

“Just don't misread this: I only ask because I care.” She leans slightly in his direction. “Don't show up at my base ever again.”

Just when they had one peaceful evening, one decent talk, just when he thought, she actually can let her guard down around him. This is cruel even to his standards, and Nikto always considered himself quite a violent creature. 

Something catches the corner of his eye, so he just nods and looks at the ceiling by the window, through which the headlights of an approaching car run.

“This has to be for me.” Zhar sighs and reaches out for the bag under her legs, but Nikto is fast enough to take it first. Even if she doesn't want to see him here again - this doesn't mean, he can't help.

“I'll carry this for you.” He doesn't even ask this - he states it. Anger and pain stir in him, brushing off his nice manners. Its ridiculous, how much of an impact she has on him.

Maybe she is right. Maybe It's time he goes back to his routine and ends this meaningless chase.

***

Mylène was never sure about why she was so warmly welcomed to the Lastochkas ranks. First there was Mini, the original Lastochka or a little swallow, as her husband called her. Without her undying enthusiasm and an open heart, they four would never form such deep friendly bonds. The outstanding medic, the unstoppable little menace of MacTavish clan, she had this unique feature about her: despite being a professional soldier, having witnessed and experienced the grim realities of war, she remained this lively bright soul, a happy ringing bell that never stops even in the darkest night. 

Then there was Riot. If an ancient curse chasing a poor man, that disturbed its secret temple, could be a person - this would be Riot. Beautiful and lethal, like a knife in right hands. And to her enemies regrets, absolutely unable to give up and die, until every last drop of blood, they owed her, was paid back. Her list only got longer with years. Her skills only sharpened. Her everlasting hunger for a payback could be matched only by her captivating eyes, that seemed to grow reacher of color and deeper every year. No wonder, even ghosts got conquered by these eyes.

Olga was another case. Mylène was afraid of her even many years ago, when she only Prices group. That was long before ‘commander Zhar’ was born. Others were menacing on a battlefield, with their weapons and skills. Olga made Mylène's blood run cold, when she leaned down over a map before their operations. She claimed, this was all science, but Leni saw something borderline paranormal in Olga's ability to predict and lead the crowds, bend them to her will, weaponize harmless civilians, turn streets into intricate traps.

And then there is Leni herself. What is she capable of, that others aren't? What does she know, that can make her special, worthy to be a part of Lastochka group? She believes, she's here only because the girls are too kind. She doesn't tell this to anyone, but sometimes she just feels like an impostor among them.

“I'm going to miss you, Olya!” Riot doesn't let go of Zhar. On an average day, she would be much more considerate about close contact, but when it comes to farewell parties - she's a mess in a desperate need of hugs.

“Christine, I'm not flying to Mars. It's just a minor operation, think of it as a business trip. And I will send you news through Mini. So nobody is going to miss me, ok?” Olga grumbles, but hugs Riot back with such force, as if she herself is afraid that this is the last time they see each other.

“What do you mean, nobody is going to miss you? How about your boyfriend?” Minis voice is the last thing heard before a dead silence settles over their table.

Any glass risen is being placed back on the desk, any sob, little laugh or a whine is cut off. All eyes get glued to Zhar in an instance. In the ensuing silence, she glances around at her friends and quietly clears her throat.

Olga has a boyfriend? Their Olga? The one married to her job for years? The one who cut off almost all tactile contacts after her back got severely burnt on her last mission for 141? The one who practically lived on Chimera base since Nikolai hired her?

Now this is new. 

“Details. Now!” Riot demands quietly, but with a degree of confidence, one just can't brush off.

“There is nothing to talk abou-”

“There is a soldier from another company, that follows our Olya like a dog on a leash, and she dumped him the last time she saw him,” rattles off Mini, cutting Zhar off, “He came up with this whole two-day course for our Chimeras, but Nikolai and I weren't born yesterday. We know a desperate lover when we see one! So we hire the guy, let him to our base, only for Olga to look at him and decide right away, that she needs to go elsewhere the next night! You should have seen his face, when he walked her to my car!!”

“Mind you, Mini, the guy wore either a balaclava or a balaclava with a mask all the time. So please don't tell people anything about his face - we haven't seen it!” Zhar sounds slightly irritated, and that makes Leni wanting to roll herself into a ball.

Riot grumbles something about just eyes being enough to read one's expression, and Olga manages to sneak away out of her embrace.

“Alright,” Zhar empties her glass in one swift motion, “You want to hear how it really went - I can tell you.”

Her following story leaves a bad taste in Leni's mouth. It isn’t merely because Olga and this man’s first encounter transpired quite literally on the battlefield, where he had been hunting her down. The sordid details might have unveiled the repugnant underbelly of war, transforming any chance meeting into a potential clash. Yet, it was not these grim particulars that caused Mylène to frown.

The manner in which Zhar recounted this man’s so-called seizure, which happened when she was nearly within his grasp, transported Leni far back to her childhood. She recognized the symptoms Olga enumerated all too well. Mylène clung to a small body, unable to quell the tremors. She had once gathered the scattered shards of another’s world, splintering under the weight of obsessive thoughts and derealization. She had soothed her younger brother, dissipating the fog that obscured his perception of the world around him.

Olga mentioned several more symptoms that Leni had not encountered while aiding her brother through his “episodes,” but they sufficed to complete the picture of what had transpired. Though Mylène had not been on that battlefield where Zhar confronted Nikto, she understood that the wretched man posed no threat to her. If he was capable of harming anyone, it would only be himself.

“Now, I don't care if the guy had a fever or decided to go to war high. It's his life, his choices. But forgive me, if I'm not ecstatic about a man in his state of mind being around my base and, more important, around my people. And the last thing I need, before the upcoming operation, is some unstable intruder from another company!” Olga's last words hang above their table and everyone look away. 

Lastochkas never judge each other, so there is no accusation in a silence, that falls over them in the next moment. Zhar has nothing more to say, and others just feel sad about seemingly everything going wrong between Olga and Nikto. Should have they met in another circumstances, in another life maybe…

“Ahem, I'm going to freshen up, who's with me?” Mini stands up, glancing at others.

Riot follows her and slows down only near Mylène's chair. But Leni just waves her hand, mumbling, that she'll join them in a minute.

It's obvious, that the girls just want to give Olga a little space to breathe and calm down after an emotional monologue. But there is something, Leni needs to share with her.

This is it. Something, that she knows, and others don't. The experience, that makes her special.

Zhar pretends to be captivated by the button of her glass, so Mylène reaches out and takes her hand. This time, staying around Zhar is not as scary as usual. 

“Olya?” Leni meets her eyes, “what was happening to that guy… It doesn't sound like a fever or drugs. I think, I might know, what is it.”