#but when he deserted he lost his family due to it

[yojeongin]

It’s my desire to give myself to you | p.js

→childhood friend!jisung x f!reader

genre: smut, romance, 80s au, childhood friends au, lost communication, open ended

synopsis: being the youngest in all friend groups has always proven to be beneficial for jisung but he’s no longer that little boy you met years ago. so why won’t you look at him for what he truly is: a man. he’ll have to prove it to you then.

warning(s): ADULTS ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! obsessive and whiney jisung, oral (f receiving), pussy drunk jisung, vaginal fingering, implied age gap although it’s not significant, public indecency, unprotected sex, bratty jisung, praise kink, bulge kink, begging, creampie, virginity loss (virgin jisung), alcohol consumption, infantilization mentions, overbearing mother.

wc: 11.6k+ || soundtrack || ao3

© 2024 YOJEONGIN all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works on other social media’s. reblogs are HIGHLY appreciated and preferred!

an: happy end of the year fic, I’d consider this an accomplishment (writing 3 fics in one year lol)

Summers began to be the best thing for Jisung starting at the age of nine. He might have gone to summer camp reluctantly at first, not wanting to join his older brother. He had enough of seeing him all the time at school and home so why did his parents think it was fine to take away his precious summers of pretending to be an only child? It was a rough start, that’s for sure; but being taken under the wing of older kids served to be more fun.

Up until the age of sixteen he lived in bliss waiting for the day summer break to begin and be back where he felt free from the watchful eyes of his parents, only seeing them twice a month for visitations. As for his brother? He had his own life to run and the two barely bumped into each other which was a blessing in disguise for him. His bags were always packed weeks prior to the departing date and when his mother started to ask if he truly wanted to go –for she has been missing him terribly due to their increasing mommy-son dates– Jisung didn’t hesitate on turning her down. Summer camp is all he looked forward to, the only thing he put effort into school for.

Nowadays the only yearly highlight comes in Winter for the holidays in the form of season greetings cards. He’s learnt to conform. “You get what you get and you don’t complain.” Is what he told himself often and that’s all the fight he has left in him the faster the years pass by.

“No mail for me?” Jisung asks with that same pleading whine laced onto his voice upon entering his parent’s home. Leaning down to kiss his mother’s cheek while she shuffles through the mail. She hums, elongating her words while flipping through the envelopes of bills and season greetings. Hoping her hesitance would cement the feeling of disappointment onto her son once more. “Well, it doesn't seem so… Oh! No. Here you go.” His mom utters with a slight smile, cruel as it is. “Took them longer to send this year. Thought the Y/l/n girl was going to fully desert you this year.” She quips balefully. Jisung gives her a quick glance before looking at the picture.

This is the most he sees and hears from you nowadays and it has become unsatisfactory. He wonders where things went wrong more often than he wants to. When he wakes up he thinks about it. When he brushes his teeth and showers he thinks about it. He’s burnt his hand thinking about why your letters minimize little by little every year and it so happens to be that this year he only received a happy birthday letter leaving him in the dark for the following ten months until today. If you can call it that, all the card says is: “May the beauty of the Holidays bless your home with happiness.” Signed off in golden glitter: The Y/l/n Family. No hand written note on your part, no acknowledgement at all. He’s sure your mother only sent it as his address hasn’t been erased from their address book. Otherwise, he’s not sure if his –hopefully– mother-in-law knows or remembers who he is.

“She’s been busy.” Jisung defends in a murmur, turning on his heel to walk upstairs to his room. “She told you that?” His mother yells back sardonically once he turns the corner. He ignores her but the glimmer of her pearly whites blind him through his peripheral view. A reminder that he can try to ignore reality but his mother will always be there to remind him. She wouldn’t understand it. She won’t understand when all she sees is that little nine year old coming back from camp excitedly telling her about the friends he made and the pretty girl he wouldn’t stop talking about.

Or the ten year old that was so ecstatic to come back and ask her for her pretty paper to write a letter to that same pretty girl that finally hugged him and gave him her address to write letters to. She took his too and put it in her ‘important things’ box. Jisung saw you do it.

But Jisung is twenty-two now and lives off of the crumbs he gets to devour whenever he rereads every single letter you’ve sent him. His favorite ones are the birthday letters when you send him pictures of yourself with cakes you’ve baked for him even if he couldn’t eat them. He’s content knowing you cared for him that much. He clings to hope more when this year the cake looked even prettier but not as pretty as you in the multiple pictures sent.

He doesn’t entirely care if you only sent one this year or that you did not reply to his own birthday letter for you. He’s glad that you still cared enough to bake him his cake and let him see how much prettier you’ve gotten. One of those pictures is in his wallet at the moment.

It’s insane, no? To fall so head over heels for someone that has never been his. Jisung has known you for over ten years but nothing has progressed past embraces, friendly hand holding, and constant cheek pinches because you found him awfully cute. He still feels your touches linger despite lastly seeing you in person at sixteen.

Longing is the word he’s looking for. Longing and yearning is all he’s done since that last time he saw you and it becomes worse through the years with little to no communication. He wonders if you’re truly that busy to not spare him a few minutes to write back. Or if you’ve found someone that has prohibited you from contacting him further.

He foolishly expected a letter for his college graduation the way you sent him one for his high school graduation but it never came. He’s kept in contact with his other summer camp friends but they’re no good with information regarding you. Most but one left in the dark about your whereabouts. The last he heard from Jaemin, you had gotten a job and as vague as it is, that’s all he told Jisung.

Useless but also valuable. He envies Jaemin sometimes. He was the only one able to get far more closer to you and he doesn’t fully know how to feel about it. While you spent treating Jisung like a child, like a younger brother, things were always complicated between you and Jaemin. Vague as he is, to be specific.

All he can do now is lay on his bed with a cassette he bought precisely because you recommended it. He doesn’t like it but he does like you so he will endure. Endure like he’s done with anything regarding his yearning for you.

With your deliciously perfumed letters, fountain ink stains all over the pages, and images of you scattered across his bed with the music full blast on his walkman— Jisung revels in the pleasure of your indirect touch. Your fingerprints embedded on the paper and their oils seeping into his own skin the way they did years ago with every single one of your touches. He wished those touches were far more than playful and cuteness aggression. That the times your fingers lingered were because you wanted him as near as he wanted you. But once again, he will conform.

Conform, conform, conform.

In his state, Jisung doesn’t hear his mother’s covert steps when he twirls on the bed with images of you laying on his face. And he surely doesn’t hear her when she cracks the door open to spot his hands lingering on his thighs, memories of the time Hyuck and Chenle snuck alcohol on the grounds and all of you had a ball with it. He remembers your hands vividly on his short-clad thighs, giving them gentle squeezes as you chewed his ear off. He remembers the names Ralph Machio and James Spader spewing from your lips here and there. He wanted to shut them up with his, consumed by jealousy but also wonder how they’d feel against his.

Of course he didn’t, the alcohol made things seem funnier than they were and he wouldn’t overstep. Not when he knew his role in the group was to be cute and be taken care of. That’s how you liked him most, he noticed.

And when he twists again to fight off the temptation of letting his fingers crawl to the hem of his pants, a face he’s known all his life is looking at him directly. Startling more when frustrated. “Park Jisung!” leaves her lips, sending his body into a shocking jolt and his walkman flying across the room. His body crushed the photographs he was admiring, much to her delight.

“Mom!” Jisung whines, holding onto his dangerously fast palpating heart. He huffs and pants, attempting to relax himself before dropping another word. “What?” He aims to say calmly but she’s far from that. Her hands on her hips and a stern look around his bed transmits her disappointment, disgust, and anger.

“I read your grandmother’s letter and it turns out she will be spending the remainder of the month with us after all.” Silent scoff, as if this was the most absurd thing. “Take a run to the mall and get her a gift. I didn’t count on her even contacting us.” Well, that explains her foul mood. It’s made worse when all he musters is a nod but doesn’t make an effort to stand up. God, how she would love to pull him by those raven locks or his ear. Whatever gets the message through.

“Well hurry!” That’s all she can muster.

So Jisung does, collecting everything he can and shoving it into a locked box while his mom turns to walk out the door. Embarrassed is all he feels besides shaken up from the scare he gained.

“Don’t forget your gloves and scarf. Don’t want you to catch another cold.” She mutters while mixing whatever she was cooking. It smelled fine but he knew her food became dangerous when cooking upset. It had a life of its own. He hums as a reply, wanting to leave it at that. “Jisung.” She calls again, calmly this time, turning halfway to look at him.

“Forgetting something?”

He shakes his head, bundled up under all warm clothing.

“Sure?”

He nods and she huffs, walking towards him. She kisses his cheeks and the tip of his nose, cupping his face. That reminds him, manifested in a sigh and a smile that he leans down to kiss his mother’s cheek.

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

His bid farewell always leaves him upset. He’s twenty-two, why does she still treat him like he was three? Just yesterday his brother couldn’t stop pinching his cheek after buying him a crepe. Continuing to compare him to a cute little hamster despite Jisung having surpassed him in height.

Three weeks ago when he met with Jaemin to talk about you, the words ‘cute’ and ‘adorable’ would not stop spewing from his lips the way bile does. With the exception that Jaemin welcomed these in comparison. Mark, similarly enough, always clutches his face with restraint from crushing his skull and then engulfs him with a bone crushing hug that leaves him aching for minutes to pass.

He thinks Jeno is the only one with sense that treats him his age, yet he’s caught him other times babying him at the arcade. Especially when a stranger playing against Jisung wants to get quippy and there he becomes that eleven year old that Jeno and Hyuck had to defend from some idiots that had just watched Star Wars and felt inclined to the dark side.

Jisung decided to take the car, it was getting colder and he felt the remnants of snowflakes begin to fall even if they could only be seen under a microscope but he was sure of it. He contemplated walking in hopes of ailing himself to disturb his mother’s sanity but proved futile knowing she’d hover over him 24/7 until betterment. Therefore, his sanity would be the one disturbed.

For such a busy season, the streets looked empty and the mall itself wasn’t entirely full besides the movie theatre parking lot. Their billboard lights blinding him the longer he stares to see which movie seemed fun. He should at least get some enjoyment out of this. He can decide later. RIght now he has to pick up something he thinks a geriatric angry woman would like.

Let’s see… She likes disgustingly small yappy dogs like chihuahuas— as angry as her. She likes cats as sick as her… some yarn and new patterns should be a good gift. She doesn’t like those.

Decidedly, Jisung will take a stroll towards the end of the mall. Taking his sweet time to enjoy the scenery of the water fountain. He truly does like the mosaic. The flamingo pink tiles crawl up into a gradient of green tiles that surround the mouth where water spurts out. In better times, it shines under the sun. Right now, not so much.

He doesn’t leave before throwing in five pennies. Five for his birthday and five for safe measure that his wishes are secured. He always wishes for the same two things. Three to hear from you and two to beat Jeno’s centipede high score.

Jisung smiles and nods to himself, walking past the fountain, some water spraying on him. He doesn’t mind, he’ll take it as a sign that one of the two is to be granted soon.

Halfway through a cinnamon sugar pretzel after nearly choking from its dryness, Jisung decides to touch his heart and not gift his grandmother something she doesn’t like despite her being such a vile woman. Instead he should give her something that she won’t ever be able to lift and only admire which leads him to Sur la Table on the east wing of the mall. He grumbles and huffs annoyedly at the walk but he knows it’ll be worth it. Hell, maybe he’ll steal it for himself when she goes senile.

The only thing that he appreciates about this wing is the warm yellow lights from French and Italian wannabe restaurants that aim to attract hungry consumers and cooks. He enjoys the set up at Sur la Table, mainly because he gets to play with their faux kitchen setups and the shock on people’s faces when they overpay for these cookware items. Fooled into consumption from their fabricated experience.

He plays with some of the display pots and pans, twisting knobs and reading tags to see how pretentious he’ll feel after learning about Swedish enamel. He doesn’t know how much that matters —if it's a cash grab— but it sounds fancy. Before him, he prepares some plates. A nice hearty bowl of Caldo de Gallego. Jisung doesn’t know nor understands what it is but he remembers hearing it while flipping through the channels when his father got cable. A monumental moment for him.

“No dessert?”

And just like when his mother scared him shitless back in the privacy of his own room. A familiar voice snapped him out of his public exposition daze.

He goes through the same motions he went through back home. Clutching his harshly palpitating heart, panting and huffing to regain his composure, and feeling embarrassment. If he went through this once more today, he’ll definitely faint for good.

It’s far more embarrassing this time around. He took advantage that the store was nearly empty and no one came to this side of the store but he was proven wrong. Worse yet, the person that scared him was waiting for an answer.

Jisung still feels and hears his heart blaring in his ears but he tries to act cool. Only to fail when his knees buck once he registers the face that’s been accompanying him for the past ten months in his wallet. Albeit something was different. The length and color of your hair that’s for sure.

“Don’t be a stranger, come on.” Your voice is as sweet as he recalls.

Fuck, how he missed it…

Your arms extend to him, pleading for his embrace. Jisung doesn’t hesitate to give you what you want— as always. Swaddling you with his long limbs and making sure you can’t let go until he is done savoring this moment. He’s truly craved this for as long as he can remember.

A soft giggle works to ease his grip, letting you go with a nervous chuckle of his own. “Sorry.” He speaks, shyly covering his mouth with a sleeve covered hand. The apology not only yours to receive but himself as well for reacting like the little boy he was when you met; for the miniscule regression. He takes in your light head shake but tender smile. It’s a different scene from when he last saw you. There’s an obvious distance that he does not like.

“How have you been? You’ve grown so much!” Instinctively, your hands reach for his face, cradling it while attempting to restrain yourself from pinching his cheeks. You’ve already overstepped by touching him. Instead you give him an awkward giggle and the following words. “What happened to my little Jisungie? You’re even taller than last time.” Jisung can sense your desire to grab him and handle him like you used to but for some reason you’re holding back.

‘Please, please don’t deny me this. Touch me, hug me, pinch me… Just please touch me…’ Jisung wants to blurt out. He’s been starving for years and he finally has you before him, so why won’t you feed him? Don’t be so gluttonous, please…

Jisung won’t voice any of it, he opts to nod with that same gummy smile that you love. “Growth spurt, stuff like that.” He attempts to sound nonchalant but he’s so giddy that he can’t contain himself. You read him like a book.

“So, uh… What are you doing here? I never thought I’d see you in my town.” He questions, scratching his head. You’ve always been a good eight hours away from him, meeting him halfway for camp. Six if you count Chenle’s birthday party in ‘81 in which his parents paid for everyone’s transportation.

Your hesitance doesn’t go unnoticed by him but he wont prod. He’s content with having you near, he thinks so. He’ll be sure to start throwing quarters into the fountain for granting him this wish at least.

“Work actually,” You hum, body swaying while you nod. “Oh, right! Jaemin mentioned you got a job, congrats!” He celebrated with genuine happiness but the inkling of curiosity never left him.

‘Please talk to me. Please say more, I crave your voice. Please, I’m too malnourished, can’t you see?

“Did he?”

“That was about it. You know how vague he can be.”

You hum and nod again. This awkward cycle frustrating and hurting him.

Jisung has not spent the past six years missing you for this encounter to be short lived. He’s aware six years was a long time ago and he’s definitely lost contact with other friends but they’ve never mattered the way you do and there’s no way he’s going to waste this opportunity.

“Hey, why don’t we catch up, yeah?” He clutches his arm, swinging a bit and lips puckering before pressing them tightly amongst each other. Your immediate reluctance is easily spotted and it only makes him ache more. He’s not sure what has elicited this behavior but whatever it is, he’ll kick himself over it when you’re not around.

“I don’t know, Ji… I have a report to work on.” You avoid his gaze, knowing that the second you see his pleading eyes you’ll cave in. He knows that too and he knows that if he makes his voice a tad bit squeaky, you’ll begin to crack. You always do.

“Y/n-ie, please…” He tilts his head, crouching to meet your gaze. His big round eyes glistening either from the lights, his own natural charm, or the tears that will spill if you pay him no mind. He doesn’t mean to pout but when his lower lip involuntarily juts out you let out a defeated noise through your teeth followed by grabbing his cheeks and stroking them softly, uttering a “Fine, fine!” to satiate his nerves and your own craving of touching his face like you once did.

His grandma can wait, it’s not like she’ll even use the cookware set any time soon.

“What were you even doing back there?” You break the silence, both walking towards the exit. Without you looking, he tosses a quarter out of gratitude into the fountain when passing by. He swears he can see the tiles gleam and let out satisfied clinks. They’re just as thankful.

With a hand to the back of his neck, he laughs softly. Head turning to you with excuses in mind yet he opts to tell the truth. “I like to pretend it’s my own kitchen whenever I go in there.” He laughs embarrassedly to which he is received with a silent ‘cute’ and observing look.

He’s glad he distracted you but it also feels like a backhanded compliment. Adorable. RIght, that’s what you still think of him.

“By the way. Do you mind grabbing a drink instead? Not a huge fan of coffee… Unless you want to of course.” Jisung suggests, putting his gloves on once both reach outside. He notices your lack of scarf and undoes his while you contemplate an answer. Halting your train of thought when he wraps it around you which ends up making you blurt out a “Sounds good!” in return.

It’s no surprise that the car ride was full of silence but at least the radio muffled your thoughts and hopefully his own if he had any regarding the atmosphere. There was a part of him that grew resentful and hurt with the lack of conversation but the greater part was ecstatic to have you so near. This is what he’s dreamt and wished for for years and he finally has it. He does not plan on wasting any millisecond of both your times.

Jisung wasn’t an avid drinker and did not know much about alcohol besides what his friends have shown him. His parents didn’t drink and his grandmother would shove a can of miller high life onto his hand if he ever spoke more than his usual five sentences. The way parents shove a bottle into a crying baby’s mouth to put it to rest. Why did he request a drink instead, though? Simply to gain some courage. Lord knows he’ll need it if things keep going the way they’ve been.

The place he took you to wasn’t that different from the ones you’ve been to during your college days. With ugly stained yellow walls, dart boards and old decorations hanging on them. Wooden columns covered in thick layers of resin as were the counters and tables. Grumpy beer-bellied bar tenders arguing over the football game playing on screen right now with already drunk customers. Yeah, not ideal for a first date but the only bar he knew. The only piece worth being valuable a signed poster of James Hunt.

What the hell was James Hunt doing in this fuck ass town?

He let you go in first upon finding a booth hidden in the back of the bar. Far more darker and cozier at this end. Perhaps due to the lack of distance he kept between you two when he himself slid in, his arm instinctively resting on the backrest of the booth around your head. The need to simply wrap it around your shoulders killing him.

“Pretty cold out there, right?” Jisung began, removing his gloves and jacket, shoving ghe former in the pockets. You didn’t turn to him, responding with a hum as you remove the scarf. He frowns at this, slumping against the backrest, watching you look through the standee with all drink names.

“What are you ordering, Jisung?” He hadn’t thought about it, more immersed in hearing your voice. Either Way he didn’t know a single brand of alcohol, ‘Lite’ the only word in relevance to alcohol that he knew. “You choose, I’m fine with whatever.” He diverts, leaning closer to you to read the alcohol options.

Though, as if you could read minds, you turn to look at him. A soft smile with narrowed eyes focusing on him. “Are you sure you want to drink? We can get something else, I don’t mind.” You suggest, expression relaxing now seeing how easily he reacted.

“Yes! I mean no! No, I would really like a drink, unless you want something else.” Jisung tumbled through his words. The bashful look on his face raises your lack of restraint in grabbing and handling him the way you’ve done so many years ago. Oh how truly adorable he remains. Although, he’s gotten quite handsome. Too handsome for his own good.

“Okay,” You nod, fingers ghosting over his cheek to reassure him– never touching, just yet.

Raising your hand to call a bartender over, one of the two begrudgingly stroll to your table. Tossing a worn out and smelly towel over his shoulder, he gives both of you a look as if to hurry up and order. With reluctance and indignance, you scoff. “Two blackberry smashes. Whiskey in both.”

“We ain’t got that stuff here.” His mannerisms were comical and absurd. As if he was angry that a request was made but also so nonchalant, so careless for your presence. More interested in going back to his game.

“Fine, two pints of your house beers, tap and two shots of your cheapest tequila. ” Jisung thinks your voice now matches the arrogance and annoyance of the bartender. He sort of likes it, it reminds him of the times you yourself had defended him against snobs at camp.

The balding bartender grunts as a response, sounding like an okay before leaving. “Swear, it’s like he's being held at gunpoint to work here, Jesus.” You shake your head, attitude dropping when you notice his reddened cheeks. Curse him and his presentable fondness. “Oh I’m sorry, Ji. Was I being mean?” Your body turns to him, hand clutching his out of habit. Jisung smiles at the contact, looking at it briefly before looking at you. “No, you were perfect.” He utters, reveling in your touch.

You smile at him, embarrassed. Something that he takes with pride. “You never told me what you were cooking up in that kitchen, you know.” You aim to divert the focus. He chuckles at it, “Caldo de Callo. I heard it on TV, I think the host said it was a Spanish dish. Never had Spanish food.” He sounded so proud yet clueless at the same time. Though, you tilt your head, lips parting and closing the further your eyebrows furrow. He hears you hum and finally ask, “Do you mean Caldo Gallego?”

Jisung can see you stifle a laugh when his face begins to feel insanely hot, scorching even. Embarrassment written all over his face that he has to bury them in his sleeve-covered hands, groaning into them about how stupid he sounded. If only he knew that what he originally said translated to ‘callous soup’.

Endearing is the word you’d call it though. Endearing he is with his crescent shaped eyes and shamed pout. Endearing are the whines and groans he lets out when you can’t seize your giggles. He thinks about telling you to stop but doesn’t, your noises far more prettier and enjoyable even if at the expense of his misery.

“It’s okay, Jisungie.” You elongate his name, “It sounds similar, don’t fret too much!” You giggle, petting his hair as one does a child trying to comfort them. He enjoys your touch but doesn’t enjoy the slight patronizing tone to your voice. He’s not sure if he can call it patronizing because he’s aware there’s no malice intent behind your words but it did sound condescending in the way those speak to their juniors and he was tired of you treating him like one the longer the night progressed.

Jisung huffs, sighing when his head touches the table. He turns to look at you momentarily, distracted when your drinks arrive. He hears a few forced thank you’s and sarcastic my pleasures. Your feud with the bartender is amusing but not for this time. Right now he wants to focus on this sentiment brewing in his chest.

He gives you one last glance before reaching for the shot glasses. “To seeing each other again?” Such a simple question that made you hum pensively. You don’t deny it, clinkling your glasses together before dowing the burning liquor. With the taste of battery acid buring your throat, Jisung on the other hand clutches his throat, spitting it out onto a bundle of napkins.

You find him so agonizingly cute that your hands begin to ache to touch him and squeeze the life out of him. How adorable can someone be?! “Oh Jisungie… Tequila isn’t for everyone.” You tut, shaking your head. “Perhaps I should order you some apple juice to soothe that, yeah?”

Your giggle makes his ears ring, that same gnawing feeling that you're mocking him consuming him. He knows you’re not doing it on purpose. That you truly care for his wellbeing but is he truly that easy to perceive as naive and childish that you won’t see him as more? Sure, he didn’t like the tequila but so what? It was their cheapest one. If it had been a bit more expensive, then he’s sure he would have drank it as easy as you. He’s not a kid, why won’t you see that?

Jisung doesn’t voice it though, sighing while redirecting the conversation. “Were you doing some last minute shopping back at the mall?” He questions, obvious discontent and melancholy in his voice. You let it be, nodding as a response before shaking your head when you register the question. Too enthralled with how pretty he looks like this. Face flushed from the alcohol and embarrassment. So cute, so adorable, so perfect. Your Jisungie.

“No, no, actually I went with intentions to watch a movie but the cinema won’t play the movie I wanted to watch so I was on my way out when I saw you through the window doing your little thing.” Your giggle sends him into orbit. He feels lightheaded. Your words weren’t laced with judgment but fondness, he’s thankful for it this time.

“What movie?” Jisung attempts to act as if you didn’t affect him.

“Uh…” Your hesitance piques his interest. “Sex, Lies, and Videotape.” Well it seems that it’s you who is embarrassed now. He takes it, smiling to himself. “Gee, I wonder why they wouldn’t screen this at a regular movie theater.” He giggles, wiping the corner of his mouth when he feels some leftover alcohol residing there.

“Okay now, I had just gotten out of a meeting. My brain was not fully cooperating.” He giggles some more, his teeth now clutching his sleeve. “Honestly, why would a movie like that interest you?” You smile at him, the rim of your beer glass pressing against your lips. “James Spader.”

Jisung rolls his eyes, a scoff leaving his lips while he himself takes a sip of his beer. It’s unrefined and messy. The way the lager alcohol slips down the corner of his mouth and slicks his lips when he places it down. You watch it all through the window of your own, taking slow sips to admire his silent tantrum. He’s never been fond of James Spader. Or any other man you’ve mentioned.

“He’s not all that, you know.” Jisung mutters with a pout, leaning against the backrest. You don’t laugh like you intended. You simply acknowledge him through the handkerchief you pull out of your pocket to softly wipe the residue of beer before it becomes sticky on his skin. He can taste the flavor of your black cherry lip gloss when you swipe it over his lips.

Such an intimate moment prompts him to take a grasp of your free hand, playing with your fingers like he’s done before. “Oh please. He’s the perfect blend of sensible and… manly.” Jisung can only guess you’re thinking of James Spader with the way you bite your lower lip and narrow your eyes. A lustful sigh escapes your nostrils which serves as confirmation to his inquiry.

Seemed like a bunch of bullshit, if you were to ask Jisung what he thought. If you wanted those qualities then why didn’t you realize how perfect Jisung was? Maybe he’s being a little self absorbed or malleable to your desires but so what? He’ll do anything to make you look at him.

Furrowing his eyebrows, dropping your hand and pointing at his chest, Jisung spoke. “I’m sensible and manly!” It sounded more whiny than he expected which would prove to throw off whatever result he wished for. Of course it would, your laugh seems to provide an answer to such.

“I don’t know about the latter…” Your hum upsets him more.

“I am!”

“I don’t know. Just look at how cute you look pouting like that…”

Jisung huffs, upset at your continuous dismissiveness. Must you always remind him of his inferiority? What must he do if you won’t see that he’s a grown man now?

“I am, I’ll prove it to you.” His tone must have sounded significantly bratty that you receive it with patronization. Sarcastically telling him to prove it then if he was so manly.

So he did. He did in the way his large hands cradled your face, warming up your cheeks although that might be from the immediate heat his actions spurred. He proves it through his stealthy moves, bringing his face closer to yours in which he allows his lips to ghost over yours for milliseconds before finally connecting them.

Shocked is what you would describe this feeling clinging onto your chest. Never in a million years would you have thought about kissing Jisung. Sure, you’ve kissed his cheeks and forehead in the past, but that’s what friends do with someone they find adorable and innately drawn to. Jisung has always been hard to avoid, even if you wanted to, one look in those glistening round eyes and you’d submit to his every wish. Everyone does.

His lips moved with inexperience, soft and slow but uncoordinated with no idea where to go from there. His internal debates made obvious when he would part his lips for a second before going back to what seemed like peppered pecks. The way dolphins kiss. You wonder if this is his first kiss or how he kisses overall. If so, you’re only sorry that it’s so miserable.

Jisung eventually determines that he should stop. Either from shame at how uneventful it was or, well, simply because it was uneventful. Rather you two stare at each other for what felt like ages. His confidence is dying down along with your shock. By now both reverting back to your usual personas which meant that he shyly tried to look around without breaking eye contact and you, sternly looking at him without blinking much in order to gain answers.

He sighs knowing this was a lost cause. Rubbing the back of his neck, his body shifts to face you more than before. “Why haven’t you sent me any letters? Why are you ignoring me, Y/n?...” Jisung hates how easy it is for him to transmit his emotions onto his voice. While he hates to sound whiny, he would prefer that over the hurt that enveloped every single syllable he’s spewed out. What he hates more is that he’s not able to shut his mouth. “You have my home number, you have my address. Why haven’t you replied to my letters?”

“Jisung…”

“No! Please tell me.” God, how he hates how dismissive you can be, “I’ve been waiting for you for years. Please give me something, anything.”

Jisung’s face contorts the longer he begs, his lips reddening and puffing more than normal. His cheeks are ravished by that harsh crimson that warms them, borderline scorching. His voice, now a mixture of hurt but whiney that makes you shift at how uncomfortable you are that it spurred something in your chest, now traveling down to your abdomen. You really want to slap yourself for this.

Your Jisungie. Your sweet Jisungie, you idiot!

“I’m sorry, Ji. I was busy with my discretion and didn’t have time for anything. Then I graduated and it was a bloodbath to even get a job right out of college. I mean, I almost threw myself to the sharks and contemplated going to a convent. Can you imagine? All my hard work wasted. Then this year…”

Almost like a child that should have not spoken, Jisung raises an eyebrow when you reach for your beer glass, using it as a shield to make you stop talking. He grew increasingly irritated by your silence. “This year what, Y/n?!”

He’s never spoken to you like this which raises concerns with how you don’t mind it. In fact, you surprisingly invite it, although in minimal quantities. Seeing as there was no way out of it, you sigh, shoulders slumping. “Then this year I saw your mom at the film store around Easter. We were both picking up pictures and we talked for a bit until I asked about you and she said that you had a girlfriend. That I should probably be conscious that not all girls are comfortable with their boyfriend being so close to other girls. That she wouldn’t take kindly to seeing me send you letters so often, let alone pictures…”

Jisung has never been angry at his mother. Sure, irritated and hurt. But never angry, which seems to be a feeling he never thought he’d harbor for the woman that has given him life and all the love a child deserves. He knew his mom wasn’t too keen on his infatuation on you, he’s not sure if it’s for the difference in age or weary of someone she hasn’t fully met besides a few encounters on drop-off and pick-up day at camp.

He always imagined that she would come around once she truly met you, so why was she trying to sabotage him on something he’s been begging every single deity for?!

“So, if you have a girlfriend, why the hell did you just do that, Jisung?” The disgust and confusion in your voice made him feel far more awful than he already was. Appalled would probably be a greater feeling, though. He’s made sure to let you know that with the harsh ‘what?!’ that spews out of his lips like a hymn.

“What the fuck? I’ve never had a girlfriend. Jesus fucking Christ, why would she say that?” He questions the latter to himself, unaware that he’s confessed his inexperience to you (as if it wasn’t noticeable); shifting his attention to you shortly after. “Why would you believe her in the first place? I’ve never looked at anyone but you! Why won’t you see that?”

It’s not his grasp on your shoulders that startles you but rather the sincerity in his confession. Never in a million years did you think you’d be hearing these words from Jisung. The fuzziness in your chest adds to that shock which confuses you and at the same time disgusts you.

Jisung is far more perceptive than you had thought, “Please… It’s been you since the summer we met…” He goes back to pleading, his grasp softening. Kneading your arms as to beg for contact on your end. You hate how much this is luring you into whatever he wants. You’ve never been able to say no to him, yet again these found feelings are clashing with those you’ve fostered since you met him.

It’s vile and conflicting to see him in such a sweet light. As your junior who’d you do anything for, to… this incessant needy and lovestruck man that keeps begging for an ounce of affection in any form possible. If it was for Jisung he’d be on his knees kissing the sole of your shoe as long as you get to tell him you love him the way he loves you.

You sigh, contemplating on what to do or what to feel. “I don’t know, Jisung.” You huff conflicted. You’ve always been like a little br–” His hand covers your mouth before you can even finish your sentence. His eyes tremble and you realize that he’s much closer than he had been. “Don’t finish that. Please don’t ever say that again…” He begs and begs. Either it be his words, the way his eyes look at you, or his body language.

“I’m twenty-two, I’m taller than my own older brother or any of the friends we made in camp. I can drink and smoke if I want. I’m a man now, Y/n. Not that scrawny squeaky voiced kid you met long ago. I don’t need you to see me like that. So please… erase that from your brain and see me as I am now.”

You don’t know if you hate him or yourself at the moment. You’ve never been one to reject change, in fact you welcome it but it’s different when it comes to the image of people you like. Fuck it, you’re even upset at how deep you’re thinking about this when within a few minutes you might think this is stupid and unserious.

“If age is the problem, don’t let it get to you. We don’t even have a disgusting gap. For goodness sake, we were in the same group classifications every year at camp and Mark had already hit the group limit. That should be enough to get you out of whatever hellhole you’re digging yourself into.”

See? Eventually things could turn so unserious and with the sound of his voice, rather bratty and accusatory. “Do you not like me, is that it? Do you not find me desirable?” He questions, head nodding to incentivize an answer from you. He almost makes it seem natural and you wonder how many times he’s done this before. Push people’s buttons until he gets an answer. You suppose he truly has grown.

The Jisung you last knew would never whine for something like this. All he had to do was say please with a pout and he’d get what he wanted. Far more innocent and civilized. This was crude, erotic, and mocking. You expect him to give you a cheshire smile when he gets what he wants in comparison to his gummy one full of appreciation.

Yes, he’s no longer a boy. He’s now a sweetly cunning man.

“It’s not that.” You blurt out, cursing yourself at the admittance that he has more of a chance than either of you could’ve thought. Expectedly, that cheshire smile presents itself slowly. Sultrily, he speaks. “Then what is it?” He whispers, lips to your ear as his hands create a path down your upper body.

The words hang heavy on your tongue, distracted by his touch. Finding his large hands more pleasurable than you could’ve thought. “I actually don’t know…” You confess sincerely, eyelids fluttering when they land on your knee, fingers padding over the clothed flesh. Contemplating on whether to stay where they are at or slide up.

Ecstatic by your bodily response, he smiles sweetly. Whispering in your ear, “Let me prove it to you… Let me erase that image of me you have, please…” He begs, lips trailing to your cheek, a blazing trail branding your skin. When they reached your lips, you couldn’t deny him the wonders of being kissed in return.

You both sigh into the kiss the second they perfectly slot into each other. It’s slick and wet, albeit, much more pleasurable than his first one. This one you’re able to enjoy the delicacy of those plump red lips that envelope yours and leave a delicious sting that makes you crave for more.

Your hands paw at his sweater, drawing him closer to feel his warmth. He takes this opportunity to let his hands roam up your thighs, massaging the insides until he decides that he won’t wait and lets his hand crawl to the hem of your skirt. His hands –scorching– against your skin when he manages to pull down your tights. Bunching them around your knees and covering your legs with his jacket.

He smiles into the kiss when he feels you react to his feather touches. Taunting the idea of touching you further. He’s not too cruel though, not when this is what he’s wanted for so long. Therefore, he decides to reward both of you by letting his fingers go under your panties, the cotton feeling like heaven against his knuckles. He revels in the feeling of your wetness clinging to the fabric. Cooling against his skin while he lets his fingers waltz up and down your folds. Contemplating what their next move will be, unpreoccupied since you seem to enjoy whatever he is currently giving you. He can see it with the way your eyelids flutter and the kiss grows hungrier, needier. This is all he truly wanted.

Jisung decides to not taunt you any longer. He’s never wanted to upset you. Allowing his fingers to softly part your lips, twisting his ring clad middle finger and inserting the long digit into you. They felt so cold within your walls, forcing a gasp to leave your lips. He took that opportunity to muffle it with his tongue the second it intruded the cavity of your mouth.

The muscle, surprisingly strong as it dances along with yours, savoring the delicacy of your taste. This is overshadowed by the spasm of your legs the slower he pumped his finger into you. Molding your walls to the ribs of his nimble and spindly digits. Your pleasure is exerted through sighs and hungry kisses which he consumes all you give him. He thinks this is enough incentive to insert a second finger. This time his ring finger, quickly adapting it to the movement of the other one. It’s nice to feel the contrast between his warm acclimated finger to the cold shorter one.

His fingers move slowly, picking up the pace when he decrees that you deserve more pleasure than he currently grants you. He’s driven by the way you cling to him, hands going under his sweater and clutch his sides, fingernails softly taking the warm flesh. Jisung finds it delicious how you cling to him the way your walls grip to his fingers. Sucking him in and keeping them in place whenever he thinks of even taking them out without making you come first.

Neither speak but the silent mewls that leave your lips is enough to let him know he’s doing something good. He’s proven right when you softly nip at his swollen lips, sucking on the lower one, resulting in him releasing a shaking breath.

You will be the death of him.

Jisung found that he loved how you look when you writhe in pleasure in his arms. He thinks you look otherworldly with the way your lips part to release those sweet chants he has recorded in his brain. Enticing when your tongue sticks out to cling to his and his lips just to know he’s still there making you feel better than you’ve felt in a while. He knows you're ready when you gnaw at his lips and jaw, holding to the back of his neck as your lips trail as hungrily as his, prior. Leaving a trail of rouge that he wishes to seep into his skin like a tattoo.

When he feels your teeth cling to his jugular, he can’t help but let out a guttural moan, thankful at how secluded this booth was. His fingers reward that feeling by moving faster, his thumb rubbing delicate yet quick circles on your clit. At some point he felt scared that your cunt would swallow his rings with every clench around his fingers. You were so close and all he felt was pride and gratification that it was him that was making you feel this way.

Fuck, he could explode in his pants right now.

“Jisungie…I can’t hold back anymore.” You pant, leaving open mouthed kisses along his Adam's apple. Tongue roaming and savoring the saltiness of his skin taut on his clavicles.

He’s no one to make you suffer and not get what you want. Instinctively, his fingers pick up the pace, pushing them as far as he can. Curling them and covering your mouth when the volume of your prayers increase. Swallowing them whole when he connects his mouth with yours, luxuriating in the sybaritism of your orgasm through your kiss and spasming legs.

It takes you a minute to calm down, panting softly. Jisung looks down at you with a pleased smile, his fingers still in you, pruning by the second but he doesn’t mind. He sighs constantly, kissing you softly this time. It’s sweet and tender, similar to the first one he gave you with the difference that your cooperation makes it run smoothly.

When he parts, his fingers slowly ease out, causing you to shudder. You feel so empty and cold at the lack of his touch. Rewared only by the mere fact that he prods your lips with his ring finger, slowly entering your mouth. You savor yourself on him, tongue running along the underside, lingering on his finger pad.

No one has ever done this for you. Look at and treat you like you’re their whole world despite the lewd scenery.

His finger slips far more slick from your lips than it had entered your mouth. He takes them up to his own, running them along like a brush on the most pristine parchment. Letting its ink sink into the grooves and cement itself for eternity.

Biting your lower lip, you examine the way he takes both fingers into his mouth. Pupils blown out once he’s fully swallowing the taste of you in all forms. He knew you were perfect but this is beyond that. This is an exquisiteness he’s never savored before. He will never be satisfied again.

Jisung leans down making you think he was to kiss you again. The reality was that your essence was more inebriating than the shot of tequila and the pint of beer sitting on the table before him that he had to have a taste of the fruit directly.

In swift motions, he moves his jacket from your legs, shoving your skirt up and letting it fall over his head. Despite the awkward angle, Jisung managed to swipe the tip of his tongue against your slick cunt. The muscle parting your lips and forcing a gasp out of you.

It’s a mixture of shock and pleasure. He was shameless and that made it so hot and intoxicating, yet fear was consuming you. Forcing you to take a grasp at the back of his neck and pull him up with as much delicate force as you could muster. Like a starving kitten, parted from its mother’s tit, Jisung fetches your lips.

He looks so pretty and so stupid. So drunk and starved for you. The feeling so obvious in his hazy eyes and wet lips from your come that he has yet to lick or press against your own. You give him the latter, kissing him to satiate his need for just a bit. Biting his lower lip to calm him down.

“Don’t be so greedy, Jisung.” You scold against his lips, removing your mangled and wet tights and shoving them into your pocket. He cries like a kicked puppy but nods, getting out of the booth and helping you out knowing you’ll look like a newborn deer after his filthy handling.

Neither of you pay any mind to the cashier that takes in the payment. Weary eyes scanning you both and scoffing without questions. It’s not his first rodeo.

Drunk in a daze, Jisung doesn’t question when you give him directions. He expected it to be a hotel, one you should be staying at for work. It dawns upon him that it’s your apartment when he sees you punch in the entry code.

You’ve been so close all this time and he doesn’t knows how to take it. It’s evident in the look he gives you when you both enter the apartment and he looks around. His lips parting to question it but being shushed by your lips and hands tugging at the hem of his sweater to pull it off his body. Leaving him bare and goosebump filled before you.

“Not now…” you whisper against his chest, kissing his torso and pecks, nipping his nipple. You can talk about reality once you’re finished.

Jisung sighs but welcomes the feel of your lips and touch all over him. His own fingers unbutton your coat and cardigan, pushing them off simultaneously to make his fingers crawl to your back and unclasping your bra.

He withers and hunches over when your hands push down his pants, grasping his hard and leaking cock through his briefs. The wet spot ironically forming a heart. His Lip part, erotically to let out breathy gasps and pants. For this, you kiss him like he once did. Invading his mouth with your own tongue, holding his face in your hands, making sure he makes no effort in separating until both you feel the air escaping your bodies.

In the process, both of you manage a waltz in ridding of the remaining clothes. Kicking off any shoes and underwear, leaving each other bare in the middle of your living room. If he was given the time to admire it more, he’d tell you that it was truly what he expected of you— positively.

Instead he’s eating you alive, carnivorously gnawing at your lips in hopes to draw blood. An act that you embrace and let him do as he pleases. Simply because you’ll return the favor with as much fervor that you both will let the crimson paint itself on your lips the way your rogue has marked his skin.

When air finally did what you expected it to do, Jisung connects his forehead against yours. Both panting and drawing your bodies flush against each others. He grins seeing the little number he did against your lips, the cracks of them full like a dried up river during dry seasons. If only he knew he looked the same.

“Eat me… take your time in consuming me…” you implore, the words playing over and over in his brain as he pushes you down on the couch. Dropping to his knees without a care of what your neighbor on the bottom floor will say or if his palid knees will bruise instantly. For you, he’ll writhe in pain.

Jisung wastes no time, he separates your legs and throws them over his shoulders. His head delves in between the pretty image of your cunt and clings his lips around it fully. His lips suctioning while his tongue teases your entrance. His grasp on your inner thighs is a bit harsh but pleasurable enough that you’ll enjoy seeing the marks he’ll leave on them tomorrow.

He’s fueled more by your sweet words and the tugs at his raven hair by your fingers that curl on the locks. It feels much better when your nails scratch his scalp and for that he sucks on your clit. Incentive or reward, they’re interchangeable.

“Ah!… take your time…” you moan, head thrown back and giving him a pretty image of the expanse of your neck and the way your nipples perk. You look so heavenly that he knows it’s blasphemous. The way the overhead light shines behind your head, creating a glowing halo and he’s glad that it’s Sunday for this is his mass and holy communion. His mother should not dislike you after this.

Jisung lets his tongue roam around your cunt, savoring every crevice, picking up every single drop that spills from you. Be it that no one has ever paid such devotion to your mound, your legs begin to shake around his head. Your hands cling to his hair and pull him closer and closer to the point his nose manages to create a pleasurable pressure against your clit.

This is no problem for him. He lavishes himself in your taste and smell, moaning against you to create further sensitivity which is appreciated and you reward him by coming almost immediately when he lays his tongue flat on you to lick down and enter deep into you.

A slew of moans leave your lips but his name is the one you scream out. “Jisung, Jisung, Jisung.” Oh how well has conforming paid him off. For this he leans back on his feet, hands rubbing his thighs and teasing his own sensitive cock as he watches you writhe on the soiled couch. A lake of your come seeping into the faux leather, shimmering as its reflection on his lips, nose, and chin. How beautiful you both look.

Animalistically and greedily so, Jisung dives back in. This time pulling your body further down the couch. Leaving you limp and folded while he raises your hips and clings to them. He’s more messy and filthy about it this time around. He allows his lips to suck harshly and lick as consolation just to softly bite your clit and make you cry out masochistically.

Hypersensitivity, a force that travels in the form of your loud moans and cries. That’s what fuels him and it feels so sadistic but he indulges himself at least this once. He’s hopeful it won’t be the only time but for now he will enjoy it as it is.

He can hear you begging to please let you finish. That you don’t have it in you to last long anymore but he doesn’t relent just yet. Not when his hips buck forward and shudder with every grace of his cock against the leather of your couch. It’s so cold and harsh that it hurts but it also feels so good that he can’t help but be excited at how your soft and warm walls will soothe his dick like ointment to a wound.

That seems more exciting, yes.

All right, Jisung will please you once more. He kisses your cunt softly, long and languid velvet like kitten licks to push you further. His own rutting is much slower which proves to be a painful decision for he can’t control himself when his abdomen cramps up and painfully moans against your chest as he stands up to release all over your swollen and irritated cunt.

The feeling of his come feels like boiling water spilt on an open wound. It makes you come for the third time this night, the feeling increasing when he hums hungrily as he rubs his come in a sheer layer, ointment to your ache. The remaining that stuck to his hand, on his cock, rubbing up and down to suffer that same overstimulation at his own hands. This is his solidarity for what he’s caused you.

Tired and panting, Jisung takes a seat beside you. Caressing your face while trying to regain some stamina. You’re so spent that you lean into his touch, kissing his soiled hand and licking the saltiness off of it to savor him the way he has you.

Fuck… that’s making his dick twitch.

“Pure nectar from the forbidden fruit.” Jisung leans into your ear, kissing your cheek softly as he helps you onto his lap. You whine but ultimately allow him for there’s one more thing he can offer you and you need it.

His fingers are soft when they touch your entrance. It’s so soft and so warm, he can only imagine how sensitive you are. The image makes him moan softly against your ear. Your head resting on his shoulder and your arms wrapped around his torso. Limp yet so needy against his body. The body heat between both creates a layer of perspiration that travels from that connection onto your entire body.

Jisung rubs your back in soothing circles, leaving peppered kisses onto your hair and inhaling the scent of your shampoo. He inhales and exhales like his life depended on it, kiss after kiss after kiss.

“You’ve always been so good to me, Y/n. Do you like how I’m thanking you?” He hums, lifting your face with a finger on your chin. “Yes…” you sincerely confess in a breath, returning the favor with a slow kiss that allows your tongues to finally explore and examine each other the way you both are doing. By any form, you two will always find a way to please each other.

“And, I think I should keep going so you can fully understand how much I like you and have liked you…” he mutters in between kisses, his tongue shoving the words down your throat so you’ll digest them immediately.

You can only nod, feverishly and with a shiver down your spine when he holds your lower back, helping you up while the tip of his cock rubs slowly against your folds. You can tell it’s helping him get hard. His flaccid cock rapidly hardens with every stroke, his breathing increases and comes out shaky against your ear. It doesn’t help that you’re kissing his throat like you were back at the bar with the exception that they’re less hungry and far more passionate.

“Can I fuck you, Y/n?” He begs, eyes droopy in a plea. If it wasn’t because of how he’s holding you, you’d be sure his hands would be together in a prayer. You hum, pretending to contemplate when your answer had been decided long ago.

“I don’t know…” you tease. God only knew his abhorrence of those stupid three words. He’ll make sure to knock them out of your vocabulary if you say yes. For now, like the brat he is, he shakes and writhes, tantrum-like while his words come out in elongated whines.

“Please, Y/n…” he cries out, his grasp on you tightening slightly. You hum again but you don’t speak, basking in the pretty sounds he makes when he doesn’t get what he wants.

“You can’t feed me and then starve me… I’ll go crazy if I don’t taste you again.” He pleads, lower lip jutting out and letting his face get closer to yours. He’s so pretty like this that you can’t help but concede.

With a giggle you nod, “Very well then.” You tell him, kissing his cheek. The sweet act is gone when he lowers you down on his hard cock. You had seen it moments prior but hadn’t registered that the stretch would sting like this. It’s not bad, matter of fact it feels so fucking good… and it doesn’t help that he’s long enough that you feel him in your stomach.

“Ji…” You moan out in parts, eyelids fluttering as he bottoms out. Jisung sucks in air through his teeth when he feels your ass on his balls, squishing them and begging them to please you. That is something that he will hear out anytime.

Your voice sends him a whirlwind, “Give me your hand.” You request from him. If it wasn’t for the sheer fact that you wanted him to see and feel what he was doing to you, you’d spend more time admiring his large hands. Seeing them this way, you can understand how he made you come perfectly.

Leaning back causes you to squish his testicles further. A moan leaves his lips hungrily as he admires you through hooded lids, his head thrown over the backrest. When he feels where you placed his hand, he snaps it up, admiring the prominent budge on your stomach and how warm it felt to be in you.

“See?” You ask in the sweetest tone, smiling at him. He returns it with a nod, caressing what he’s caused. Instinctively, he bucks his hips upward, a moan erupting from both your lips due to the friction and the image. It’s like a live painting being made before him.

“So pretty…” he coos, his fingers dancing around the imprint. His thrusts increase in pace, your head rolling back in pleasure. It’s not fair that he has to do all the work; holding onto your thighs, you begin moving up and down on his shaft.

His moans get louder and his hands roam your body like undiscovered land. Landing on your breast and squeezing them. Your own hands leave your thighs to help him in kneading, yelping when his fingers take a hold of your nipples to squeeze them. “You’re doing so good, Jisungie.” You praise, each word received with a hard thrust from him and a whine, thanking you.

“My Jisungie is so big now…” you moan, leaning down to capture his lips in a kiss, he holds your hips while increasing his pace. “Such big hands,” reaching for one, you kiss his palm before letting it fall to its initial spot.

“Such big pretty lips…” Your teeth nip his lower lip, reopening the cut from your earlier‘s cannibalistic game. “The most beautiful big eyes.” And with a drop of his blood on your lip, you kiss his eyelid. Eyelashes flutter upon feeling your warm moist flesh.

You attempt to sound just as tempting and sultry, but his thrusts along your hips hopping on his dick— your words leave out in broken moans and cries.

“And such a fucking big dick that will make my guts yearn for it again.”

Jisung’s eyes blow out, lips parting and licking off the blood from them. He allows himself to be vocal now. There’s no holding back when his hands grasp your ass and hold you in place. His hips move up rapidly, reaching deeper than he had previously. Your lower body stings from his handling, it doesn’t help that his testicles are slapping against you that creates an echo to play all over your living room.

You’re being fucked stupid that no coherent words attempt to leave you anymore. Anything that does are moans and cries which he swallows entirely when he grasps your jaw harshly to kiss you as messy and wettly as he did at the bar. There’s some teeth and so much tongue but neither care when the feeling of your walls molding around his cock, that they’ll forget how good his fingers initially made you feel.

He’s so swollen, you feel it with every thrust the same way he feels you grip him with no intention of letting go until you both get what you want. It’s such a perfect fit that makes his abdomen ache. He’s so ready and so are you.

“Finish… please, finish.” He begs, hips move messily and mindlessly. He’s so ready to be done but he needs you to come first. It’s not until he shifts and brings you closer that his mouth wraps around your tit. Hungrily kissing it like a starved animal. His teeth take no mercy in biting the skin around and your nipple, leaving indentations of his pretty teeth. At least you’ll have his smile engraved on you.

He continues on the second one, your nipples so hard that they ache from his sucking and biting. And when he feels the needs to insert two fingers in you while he fucks desperately with squelches imploring you both to finish, you can’t help but clamp around him with a loud moan erupting from your lips and coming around him. Fingers and cock.

Your cries don’t seize, they only increase when he himself spills within you. It’s so warm, almost hot and there’s so much that you can feel it run down the sides as he remains in you. Poor Jisung, he had been holding it for so long. Your poor little, Jisungie.

You squirm on top of him, shaking from the great orgasm. Something you hadn’t had since that one time you masturbated at nineteen. Thank you Jisung for being such a great sport.

“You know,” Jisung is the first to talk, swallowing. He was parched. “I’m so glad I waited for this.” He smiles tiredly, you giggle with a sigh but ultimately nod. “I’m sure other girls were satisfying enough.” You say, to which he shakes his head.

“No, I meant sex.” He confesses confidently until he coils in when he realizes what he’s said. Your surprised look only makes the feeling grow. “No way.”

He nods

“No way! There’s no way you fucked me this good with it being your first time!” You attempt to lean back to look at him but your body aches and it also decrees that it wants to cling to Jisung’s as much as it can so the most you muster is looking up at him.

It’s such a pretty image when you notice the bashful look on his face, crimson blush consuming his entire body. How he, out of custom, smiles and throws his head back with his index finger extended under his nose to cover his mouth. There’s your sweet Jisung.

You laugh quietly, hand going up to caress his hair. “So cute… you’ll always be my cute Jisungie.” The statement is received with a groan but ultimately, Jisung relents. Kissing you once more, refined and sweetly. He understand what you mean and he also understands that you mean it differently now. Therefore, he won’t dwell on it. Sure, you’ll always look at him in such a sweet image but now with the addition that he has proven to you how much he’s grown… as a man.

[rottenpumpkin13]

A lovely group of people encouraged me to post this so fuck it !!

This is going to be a long post, bear with me, but I have a lot to get off my chest about Angeal. I’m starting with how people’s vitriol towards his character completely glosses over the trauma he endured within the game alone.

I understand that Crisis Core is a flawed game where characters like Genesis, Angeal, and even Zack didn’t translate on screen as well as they could have due to areas of weak writing and the context lost during localization into English. But at the same time, there are aspects of the game—background details—that shed light on why characters act the way they do and this is especially true in Angeal’s case.

Angeal is a character shaped not only by his upbringing in poverty, but also by the heavy emotional burden of depression and the disillusionment that follows his discovery of his origins. His actions might seem erratic or morally ambiguous on the surface, but they’re rooted in his mentality shaped by poverty, the ideals he built to survive it, and the eventual crumbling of those ideals.

When someone is raised poor—in Angeal's case, poor enough where it's implied that they didn't have enough to eat—they grow up with a scarcity mindset that comes with a sense of hyper-responsibility veered towards survival.

We know his father passed from exhaustion, working hard to pay off the Buster Sword, so we get the sense that him witnessing his parents work hard made him internalize the notion that he must work hard both to survive and to uphold honor at any cost.

Angeal’s preoccupation with the concept of honor is a direct reflection of his upbringing. Based on Gillian telling Zack in Banora that the Buster Sword represents their family’s honor, we understand that Angeal grew up being taught to value it. Without material wealth or privilege, Angeal built his identity around his ideals. He frequently reminds Zack that honor is the defining trait of a SOLDIER, showing how he clings to this concept to give his life meaning beyond his origins.

Growing up poor not only teaches you that you are undeserving of basic necessities, but it would teach Angeal to value stability and resources, no matter the moral compromises required to secure them. 

The opportunity to join SOLDIER and work for Shinra would've represented a way out of poverty. Shinra offered him a stable future and the means to provide for his mother (maybe even his father, though as I'm writing this, when Angeal's father died hasn't been revealed in the canon timeline. It's very possible that he also saw it as a way to provide and care for his sick father).

Using SOLDIER as a means to escape poverty—despite Hollander’s probable influence, let's be honest—likely became an underlying reason why Angeal didn’t abandon Shinra outright. In his mind, letting go of SOLDIER would mean letting things fall apart—losing resources, security, and a sense of control, which he was already losing with the desertion, the Genesis war, and the degradation.

This mindset also explains Angeal’s relationship with the sword his father gave him, as the Buster Sword represents the culmination of his ideals: hard work, honor, and the tools necessary for survival. But Angeal refuses to use the Buster Sword for fear of causing wear, tear, and rust.

Seeing his father lose his life over the sword, he resolved not to use it unless absolutely necessary, saving his resources until truly needed. It’s not that he’s stingy or nonsensical—this is textbook behavior for someone raised in poverty. He doesn’t want to waste or use up what’s valuable, especially knowing that his father died for it.

He's hyper-aware of his role in supporting others, and we can see this by his deep sense of responsibility toward Zack, like how he saved him in Wutai using the Buster Sword. When he says "You’re a little more important than my sword" I like to think that he means that, above all, he values the people he cares about.

However, the same ideals create tension within him the moment they crumble following his desertion. Not only his sense of honor, but as he learns the truth, his sense of self-worth begins to deteriorate and thus begins the downward spiral of not knowing how to reconcile his nature as a "monster" in his words, with being SOLDIER. 

Angeal’s depression is evident throughout Crisis Core, and the degradation of the Jenova cells mirrors the psychological and emotional degradation he experiences (literal implications aside).

The closer he gets to losing his body, the more he loses his sense of purpose and identity, not to mention how the honor he had built his life around was spoiled the minute the people who taught him that were his father, who turned out not to be his biological father at all, and his mother, who lied to him. His entire life. He starved for nothing and lost his father twice.

The depression Angeal experiences is compounded by the trauma of discovering the truth about his birth. Learning that he was created as part of Shinra's experiments, that his mother was complicit in these experiments, and that he is no more than a weapon for corporate interests leaves him rightfully betrayed. In fact, his reaction was tame in comparison to Genesis and Sephiroth.

His mother’s suicide further deepens his trauma and gives us the first major evidence of his suicidal ideation and severely unwell mental state: "My mother did not deserve to live, and neither does her son," which he says instead of explaining what happened/defending himself after Zack assumed he killed her.

This belief that he is unworthy of life stems directly from the revelation that his life was never truly his own but an engineered existence meant to serve Shinra's greed. This statement epitomizes his suicidal ideation, a declaration that he too is undeserving of life, both because of the role he played in perpetuating Shinra’s horrors and the labelling himself as a monster undeserving of life, an unnatural thing that needs to be purged from existence.

I can’t even begin to describe the magnitude of the revelation that the man whose ideals he built his life around, whom he believed was his father, isn’t his father at all but instead Hollander is, who his mother worked with to orchestrate everything that’s happening to him now

Mothers are a central theme in FF7’s world, with Jenova/Lucrecia being at the center of that and their actions’ influence over Sephiroth, but there’s also Cloud grieving his mother’s death at the hands of Sephiroth, Tifa believing that she would see her mother again if she climbed Mt. Nibel, Aerith watching Ifalna die and then being adopted by Elmyra, and so on. 

Gillian, from what we can tell, was loving and raised Angeal with care. She likely kissed him to bed each night, comforted and nurtured him in the way a devoted mother would. But the revelation of her involvement in the Jenova Project shattered everything Angeal believed about her. In Angeal's words, her "shame" became unbearable, and he saw her once nurturing presence as a facade hiding deeper lies. Her decision to take her own life after he confronted her about it added to Angeal’s trauma, reinforcing the belief that everything he held dear was built on deception. 

I like to think that there was a part of Angeal that carried the guilt of Genesis’ degradation. Maybe he thought that if he hadn’t come between them in the training room, Genesis would’ve been fine—(which I don’t think so. I think there’s a high chance Genesis would’ve gotten hurt either way and that would’ve triggered the degradation).

This is a topic for another time, but I don't think any singular person was to blame for the incident in the training room. They're all equally to blame without it being their fault, because none of them asked to be a part of the Jenova Project. It's ultimately Shinra's fault.

Angeal probably struggled with depression even before the events of Crisis Core. Poverty itself is a destructive force that can cause lasting psychological damage. It has a significant impact on mental health, just like how growing up under Hojo’s abuse and being controlled by Shinra had its effects on Sephiroth. It can and does lead to depression due to the mental, emotional, and often physical (hello, Angeal's father) exhaustion it causes. Even when someone escapes the instability, it still stays with you because by then, you've learned to live in a world that taught you that you didn't deserve to live in it unless you work hard.

And now Angeal doesn't want to live in it for other reasons.

Another thing @ilminnestrone pointed out to me (who, btw, huge shout out for beta’ing this post <3 ), is how his mental state was influenced by the culture of toxic masculinity within the military/ SOLDIER. Just like in the real world, the military environment at Shinra likely placed a heavy emphasis on masculinity, strength, stoicism, and left little to no room for vulnerability lest the operative in question was deemed weak and not at all befitting of the shallow profile of a hero Shinra capitalized on. 

In environments like these, Angeal is expected to always be in control, to suppress any emotional or mental struggles, and to uphold an image of unshakable resilience, especially when he was canonically considered to be the spiritual leader of SOLDIER.

This expectation of constant strength absolutely exacerbated whatever pre-existing struggle he had going on—circling back to how being raised in poverty has long lasting effects on mental health. Rather than being able to openly process his feelings about his degradation, his mother’s betrayal, Hollander being his real father, or where he fit in this new reality of his, he was still trapped in a role that demanded he shoulder everything in silence. 

Keep in mind that in a culture where admitting weakness is often seen as failure, Angeal’s (and Genesis’) deterioration would’ve been magnified tenfold by the toxic expectation that they maintain an appearance of unwavering strength. 

This combined with the rigid ideals Angeal built around honor and the nature of his job must’ve weighed on him for years. The mutation only exacerbated potential doubts that were already there. 

Angeal's actions in the narrative are not those of a clear-cut hero or villain. Instead he occupies an in-between space where his moral compass, traumatic experiences and actions inspired by his headspace constantly clash, which is what leads to his label as a hypocrite. 

His decision to defect from Shinra and join Genesis is not a simple act of betrayal but rather the result of his overwhelming internal conflict. On the one hand, he wants to get through to Genesis and help him, he's aware that Shinra has betrayed them, but on the other hand, his ingrained sense of duty and loyalty makes it difficult for him to fully break away from the organization and responsibilities he has like, for example, Zack.

He wants to do good but knows that his conception was not a product of good intentions. In his mind he's a monster being pulled in different directions at once. If anything, this is most realistic reaction to what he’s going through in the game. 

His behavior becomes erratic as he oscillates between opposing forces—one where he remains loyal to the values he once cherished, and another where he acknowledges the harsh truth— struggling to reconcile his identity as an honorable SOLDIER with a science experiment.

This moral ambivalence is a symptom of his deeper trauma, as he tries to cling to the remnants of his previous beliefs, which is why he’s still enforcing having dreams and honor despite his actions. 

Some dialogue from the game where Angeal acknowledges his headspace: 

Angeal: I need your help

Zack: Do you?

Angeal: 

Zack: Honestly, what are you thinking Angeal?

Angeal: I'm not really sure myself. At times I feel as if my mind is mired in fog. 

The scene where he sprouts his wing and jokes about being after world domination is another key glimpse into his mindset. At this point, the joke isn’t entirely a joke—it’s a reflection of his resignation to the role the degradation has cast him in. The line about a monster’s objective being world domination is a bitter acceptance of the fact that, in his mind, he has no choice but to fulfill the destiny that was engineered for him. 

He feels trapped. And yet when Zack compares him to an angel, his response is: "Then what should an angel fight for Zack? What do angels dream of?! Angels dream of one thing... To be human."

He wants the cure and the normalcy so badly, but in his mind, the "monstrosity" is something that sets him apart from humanity and a reminder that he is different, degraded, and no longer the man he once believed himself to be.

Angeal's ultimate decision to force Zack to kill him is the culmination of his depression and his struggle to reconcile his identity. He believes that his continued existence is something that needs to be purged, something that poses a danger to those around him, something that shouldn't have existed in the first place.

He wants to pass on the ideals of honor that he once held so dear, even if he feels unworthy of them himself. In his mind, the only way to regain some form of dignity is to die by the hand of someone who still embodies the values he once believed in. 

Zack as his student represents the purity of those ideals—untainted by the knowledge of Shinra's experiments and degradation. By having Zack end his life, Angeal seeks not only an escape from his torment but also a way to pass on his legacy to Zack.

His final words: "Protect your honor, always."

Angeal made his dreams clear earlier when he said that an angel's dream is to be human. When he dies, passing the Buster Sword to Zack is not only a way to protect his honor but also a fulfillment of that dream. At that moment, there's nothing more human than dying at the hands of someone else, rather than succumbing to degradation.

This act, while devastating (and yes, extremely traumatic for Zack), is consistent with the psychological profile of someone who has suffered long-term trauma, depression, and suicidal ideation. 

Might be controversial but at this point in the rant fuck it: Condemning Angeal’s choices shifts all the sympathy onto others while entirely overlooking the immense suffering he was enduring. People often focus on how his actions impact those around him—Zack, Sephiroth, and others—without ever considering what Angeal himself is going through. All the above mentioned, the shame, the suicidal thoughts brought on by the degradation and his subsequent actions to purge himself from existence, they’re all pushed aside in favor of examining how others are affected. Everyone was affected, yes, and Zack deserves all the sympathy in the world for what he was made to endure in Crisis Core.

But I feel like this erases Angeal’s pain and frames his ultimate decision as a betrayal rather than a desperate act of self-sacrifice driven by his own emotional struggles.

"Oh, but Angeal was a terrible friend, Angeal was a bad mentor, Angeal was a hypocrite." Here’s the thing: If you’re someone who sympathizes with Sephiroth for having a traumatic past that led to a mental breakdown and burning Nibelheim, if you understand Genesis’ destructive actions as a response to degradation, then you can sympathize with Angeal for his turmoil and his position in Crisis Core.  

Angeal’s spiral is rooted in a lifetime of hardship—from growing up in poverty to confronting the existential dread of his degradation. He wasn’t just a man falling apart. He was someone trying to uphold the honor he cherished, even as his world and his sense of self crumbled around him and forced that honor he held so dear became hollow. 

His actions make sense within the context of his mental state.

I'll end this by saying that this isn't a rant to defend his actions, but rather to defend the mental health aspect that may go overlooked when discussing Angeal, which is such an integral part of his character.

[pink-princess-pussy-pop]

Making Up For Lost Time - Edmund Pevensie x Reader

Based on the following two requests:

can we get an enemies to lovers with edmund that has smut in it??

PLEASEE an edmund smut,, preferably something with a risk of getting caught? or not bb i don’t mind- but a lot of dirty talking too 🤭

It's not necessarily enemies to lovers? But I really hope you enjoy it, this is probably my favorite thing I've written thus far.

Summary: You and Edmund are definitely feeling the effects of your arranged marriage.

Warnings: Language, Smut, not proofed!

Female reader

You couldn't take much more of him, nor him you. The both of you knew why the marriage had to happen, Narnia couldn't risk another war, and Calormen was losing resources due to the Great Desert. As a compromise, Peter, Caspian, and Susan met with Prince Rabadash to secure a compromise. A truce between the kingdoms and a new way for the resources to be traded was sealed with the promise of a marriage between you and Edmund.

And neither of you was happy with it.

It didn't help that you had shared chambers either. You and Edmund had asked The High Kings and Queen about a switch in rooms but they only pushed further.

"Imagine what the people would think if the newlyweds weren't sharing a room?" So you were forced to live with him. Fall asleep next to him each night, and wake by his side every morning.

Granted, Edmund wasn't intolerable. He just wasn't tolerable either. He was a handsome man, sure, but that face also came with his quick wit and sharp tongue, two things you'd grown to loathe.

He'd challenge you, yes. But his tone of speech was never rude or condescending. But the biggest thing you hated about him, he was always so charming. So sweet. So fair.

He didn't earn the title of The Just King for nothing. But it just added fuel to the fire.

He'd always let you use the bath chambers first, and never complained or protested when you took longer baths.

He didn't pressure you to do anything on your wedding night. He simply kept to himself, offering you a smile and a "goodnight" from his side of the bed. You had been told what was to come, your mind was full of stories from other women in your life. Horror stories.

"It is ever so painful."

"Not pleasurable at all!"

"I can hardly wait until it's over!"

Needless to say, when your new husband had simply wished you a good night and went to sleep, you were surprised. The next morning you woke by his side, finding it odd that he had barely moved an inch. You were basically in the middle of the large bed, Edmund sleeping soundly on the edge, right where he was the night before. You were gone before he'd woken up.

Edmund never failed to greet you kindly, entering the room quietly just in case you had decided to take a nap. He never raised his voice to you either.

Was he snarky and sassy? Of course. But he had always treated you and your family with kindness and respect. It was insufferable. Sometimes you wished he'd just be rude so you would have a real reason to hate him, aside from the fact that he was your husband but you never seemed to communicate. You had gotten used to the fact that there would never be any sort of friendship, let alone a relationship, between you and Edmund, so you resorted to hating him.

The only time he'd gotten angry with you was when you hadn't returned to the bedroom one evening. Unbeknownst to you, he began searching frantically for you, creating quite a stir in the grand castle, only to find you asleep in the library. He cursed to himself before picking your sleeping form up in his arms and bringing you back to your room.

You woke up that morning in bed, confused at first about your location, but relaxing when you saw Edmund's sleeping form next to you.

As you rolled out of bed and made your way to the bathroom you heard his voice.

"Don't do that again." You froze, turning around. His dark eyes were on yours and he was very much not asleep.

"Do what?" He sat up, giving you a view of his very shirtless torso. You averted your eyes immediately.

"Not come back." Your confusion brought your eyes to him again. His lanky, but well-built frame, was now sitting on the edge of the bed.

"What?" He rose from the bed, a hand running through his dark hair. You stare at him while he walks toward you, stopping less than a foot away from you.

"You didn't come back last night. Don't do that again." He brushed your cheek with his hand, and leaned forward, pressing a kiss there too. You could feel your cheeks heating at the proximity. The last time he'd been this close to you was your wedding. He hadn't touched you since then either.

He pulled away quickly, stepping around you.

"Did you bring me back?" You turned your head to face him.

"Yes."

...

That night, there was a ball between the great nations. Narnia was the gracious host to Archenland, the Conglomeration of Nations, Ettinsmoor, and of course, Calormen.

You hadn't seen Edmund since the morning. You had been whisked away by maids to get ready for the celebration. The ball was for you and Edmund, another party after the wedding you guessed.

You were dressed in a gorgeous light blue gown with intricate white floral stitching and lace along the neckline. It was gorgeous. The long sleeves were fitted and the back laced up like a corset. Your hair had been fixed down with small braids throughout as to not disrupt the crown you'd also be adorning for the evening.

Then, you were whisked away to the celebration, the guests awaiting the arrival of the newlyweds. Edmund was waiting in the corridor, dressed in the same light blue as you, his silver crown on top of his head. He looked very handsome, more so than usual, and suddenly your thoughts were filled with images of you and Edmund dancing together, of Edmund touching you, his large hand on your waist, maybe even his lips on yours.

"M'Lady?"

You blinked, eyes meeting his. What had he just called you?

"Y-yes?"

"I said are you ready to go in?" Your cheeks heated once again and you nodded, looking away from him. He chuckled and then he laced his fingers through yours, effectively making your heart stop.

...

As soon as your introductions were over, you slipped away from Edmund's side. The thoughts kept popping up in your brain. Why did you keep thinking these thoughts? Edmund didn't want to marry you, let alone consummate the marriage, so why did your brain keep doing this? You hid yourself well by the banquet table, keeping away from the crowds.

"Queen Y/N?" You turned at the use of your title, looking at the sheer opposite of your husband. A man with blonde hair and blue eyes was staring at you with a dazzling smile. You found yourself preferring Edmund's dark hair, brown eyes, and ever-present smirk.

"Hello..."

"I am Prince Cor of Archenland. It is very nice to meet you, M'Lady."

You had to stop yourself from reacting to the name Edmund had called you only an hour before. You'd much preferred it coming from his mouth than Prince Cor. Oh now you'd done it. This poor Prince was trying to make small talk with you and now you were thinking about your husband's mouth? The blush creeping over your cheeks and shoulders was enough for you to shake yourself out of your thoughts.

"It is nice to meet you too, your Highness."

As you and Cor began to make conversation, Edmund's wondering eyes found you. His hand tightened around the goblet he'd been holding and his gaze narrowed.

"Who is that?" He hadn't even noticed he was interrupting his brother.

"Who is who?" Peter replied.

"The bloke flirting with my wife, that's who." Peter held back a laugh.

"Ed, I hardly think Prince Cor would flirt with Y/N, this is your marriage celebration after all. Besides, she wouldn't flirt with someone else so shamelessly."

Edmund wasn't even listening and was halfway across the ballroom before his brother could finish speaking.

"I really do believe that astronomy is one of the most interesting subjects one can learn about-" The Just King interrupted the blonde prince, swiftly interjecting himself into the conversation.

"Hello, My Love." Your face burned at the new name. Then he turned your face to his and kisses your cheek. You could feel your heart in your ears and you looked down, suddenly interested in the floor. "May I ask what you and Prince Cor are talking about?" The blonde man looked uncomfortable.

"We were speaking-"

"I believe I asked my wife, not you." Cor lowered his head in a nod in return, quickly and quietly exiting the conversation. If looks could kill, Prince Cor would have been dead on the ballroom floor in mere seconds from Edmund's piercing glare.

You began to slip away from your husband before his strong hand wrapped around your arm and gently tugged you back. His front was lightly pressed against your back, his head lowered so he could speak into your ear.

"And where do you think you're going?" His voice sent shivers down your spine. His hand trailed up your arm, resting where your shoulder meets your collar bone, visible from the Sabrina neckline of your dress. "Are you trying to make me jealous?"

What? Were you dreaming?

"Because it's working, darling."

Edmund's hand grasps yours again and he begins to lead you out of the room, desperate to get you alone. It isn't until you are outside of the boisterous party that you speak.

"Where are we going?" Edmund stops to look around, before ushering you into a corridor adjacent to the party. "Edmund!"

"Shh!" His hand covers your mouth and he presses his front to yours, making sure you are silent and unseen as guests walk past the hall. He looks at you and almost melts at the beautiful, wide eyes looking up at him. He removes his hand from your mouth, placing it on the wall by your head. You don't even register that the other is on your waist.

You speak gently, making sure your voice is hushed.

"Edmund, why are you jealous?" Your husband takes a deep breath before glancing down the hallway. "Ed?" Your hand timidly reaches up to bring his face back to yours and his eyes widen at the contact.

"You were talking to another man. At the celebration of our wedding."

You had to stifle your shock.

"Edmund, you are my husband, you have no reason to be jealous of a prince from a neighboring kingdom." His lips quirk up a bit.

"How can I not be when you are showing more interest in anyone else but me? I am your husband and you are my wife. I should be by your side tonight." His words are so surprising and you are glad for the wall behind you, and the man in front of you, for the extra support to stand.

"I thought you would want your space."

"Why in Aslan's name would you think that?" You look at him again, taking him in completely, the way he looks in the blue fabric, his dark hair framing his face with that godforsaken crown making him look better than he had a few hours ago. "Y/N, why do you think I wouldn't want to be near you?" His eyes search yours and you blink away, far too flushed under his heavy gaze.

"You haven't ever wanted to before." The words hit him like bricks.

"What?"

The words begin to spill out before you can stop them.

"You always sleep on your side with your back to me, you are always gone when I wake up, I never see you except when you come to get ready for bed, and on our wedding night you didn't..." You push through the embarrassment. "You didn't even touch me. I know this marriage isn't what we had wanted but I thought that maybe we might have been friends-" Edmund cuts off your monologue with a kiss. Your first kiss since your wedding night.

His hand moves from the wall to your neck and the other pulls you to his body, needing to get closer to you.

Your body reacts immediately, melting into the kiss, hands resting on his waist.

It ends too soon, Edmund pulling away first, putting his hand back on the wall while he catches his breath, but the other remained on your waist.

"You think I don't want to be near you?" He stares at you with an incredulous look on his handsome face. The closeness of his face to yours is enough to make you blush, again. "Darling, I haven't..." He takes a moment to breathe, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "I didn't touch you that night because I didn't want to hurt you. I'm so bloody drawn to you that I have to sleep on the opposite side of the bed turned away from you so I don't taint your virtue. I leave in the morning because-"

Your hand covers his mouth as another rowdy group of guests wanders by the corridor. You wait for them to leave before speaking again, keeping your hand plastered onto his face.

"So, you don't hate me?"

He shakes his head.

No.

"You never did?"

No.

You remove your hand from his mouth and the two of you just stare at each other. Unmoving. It feels like minutes pass before he covers your mouth with his again.

His hand returns to your neck, pulling you to him once more.

"I'm sorry I ever made you think I didn't want you. You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen and I am the luckiest man alive to have you as my wife."

"Edmund..." The kind words hit you straight in the heart.

"And now, it seems I have something I have to make up for." His smirk appears and it sends your insides to mush.

"But Edmund I-"

"Shhhh." He smiles, his head dipping to yours. "Don't want to get caught, now do we?" He kisses you again, this one full of heat and passion, the lack of contact between you only adding fuel to the fire.,

Edmund pulls your body flush against his and groans into your mouth. You falter at the glorious sound but he is there to support you

His kisses travel down your neck to your collarbones.

"Edmund... What are you doing?"

"Making up for lost time, darling." He grins at you again. "Now be quiet." He kisses you again, his sneaky hands running down your sides to your skirt. He breaks the kiss to look down, his hands pulling the fabric up to your waist.

"Fuck." Your eyes went wide. You'd never heard Edmund use that kind of language before. His eyes lock on yours again.

He looks perfect. He's a king. Your king. Your husband.

"Are you ok with this?" You nod yes multiple times, making him smirk yet again, and then you gasp at the contact of his fingers against your womanhood. Your hands grip his shoulders for support, his muscles tensing at the fact that you are touching him. That he is touching you. His fingers find no resistance due to the effects of his words and his ego grows. You bury your face into his shirt when his fingers slip into you. Though foreign, it is an immensely pleasurable feeling and you can't help but want more.

Then he begins to move them. You push further into him to silence your mouth, the feeling far too wonderful to not have a vocal effect.

But then his thumb brushes on something that makes you let out a loud moan. Your face flushes in embarrassment.

"Do you want everyone to know that I'm defiling you in the hallway?"

Oh dear, you're afraid his words combined with whatever he is doing with his fingers are going to kill you.

He repeats the same action but kisses you once more, your moans muffled.

Edmund can tell you are getting close, you've begun to shake, you're gasping into his mouth, and you are practically rutting into his hand. He makes the conscious decision to break the kiss to suck on your neck, covering your mouth with his free hand to silence any escaping sounds. Then, his thumb presses up again and his fingers hook inside of you and you convulse around him.

He is in awe of how gorgeous you are and what he'd just done.

As you catch your breath, your trembling hands find the waistband of his trousers and gently begin unbuttoning them, eager for more. His eyes avert to what you're doing and he curses again. You falter.

"Do-do you want me to stop?" His head shakes back and forth.

"I think I'd die if you did, love."

Edmund begins kissing your neck once again while you free him from the confinement of his tight pants and you gasp. He laughs into your neck, sending goosebumps throughout your entire body.

"Don't get shy on me now, darling. You wanted this, right?" You nod and feel him smile into your skin.

He makes quick work of your undergarments, tossing them to the side, lining himself up with your lower half.

He halts and you look into his eyes, body shaking in need and anticipation for what you had been so scared of on your wedding night.

With your eyes on his, he pushes into you, stopping when you push against him.

"Are you alright?" His voice is next to your ear.

"Just one second." Edmund waits, trying to distract himself from the way your body is clenching around him. Your small voice brings him back to reality. "Edmund."

"Yes?" You notice the rasp in his voice, the strain in his muscles. To ease him, you follow your instincts and roll your hips against his and his hands grip your hips in response, stifling the moan wanting to leave his throat.

"Fuck. Y/N. You can't do that." It's your turn to smirk. You do it again and he presses your body back into the wall. The soft grip on your hips tightens and his eyes meet yours, blown with lust. Then, they narrow at the smirk on your lips. "Oh, so you think that's funny do you?" He begins to slide out of you and your eyes roll backwards. Then he slams back in.

The moan that escapes your lips sets a fire in him and his hand claps back over your mouth.

"How many times do I need to tell you to be quiet?" He begins to move his hips again, the feeling ten times more wonderful than just his fingers. "Is this what you wanted?" You can barely comprehend his hushed words. "Is that why you were flirting with him? To make me jealous so I'd finally touch you?" His free hand worms its way back to the apex of your thighs, finding that place that made you squirm in no time. "You're lucky I love you." You don't even register his words as you come undone.

Edmund follows behind, pushing into you one last time before falling into you. His breathing is labored and the two of you don't speak while you catch your breath.

"Edmund!" Your heads snap toward the sound of Peter yelling his name.

"Dammnit!" He quickly makes himself presentable and you follow suit, making sure your hair isn't wild and your skirts are back in place. He takes your hand, smiling at you, before leading you back out of the hallway.

"Edmund!" Peter's back was to you.

"Peter, stop yelling, I'm right here!" The High King turns around, a glare present on his face.

"Your guests are wondering where the two of you have been! You disappeared thirty minutes ago! Get back inside, now."

Edmund doesn't reply to his bother, opting for an eye roll instead. Then he turns to you offering you a bow.

"Shall we get back to the celebration, my queen?" You giggle.

"Let's."

...

Peter may have overreacted just a bit because the only people wondering where the two of you had gone was him.

Edmund pulled you to the ballroom floor, his arms draped around your waist. You settled yours around his shoulders with a smile. The rest of the party seemed to disappear as he bent down to place a soft kiss against your lips.

You rest your head against his shoulder and whisper into his ear.

"I love you too."

AHHHHH! Y'all I'm really proud of this and hope you enjoy it. :)

[shegatsby]

Love Thy Enemy

 Summary; Y/N Atreides had always been a stranger to the entire galaxy, her bed wasn’t her bed, her home wasn’t her home due to the fact that she was sent to accompany and be sisters with Irulan. She had limited access to her actual family and over the years they grew distant. She thought she would be like Reverend Mother, alone, yet powerful, and soon she would realize that there was no need of being alone when a wild creature had his eyes on her for a long time.

A/n; How i missed yu guys! Finally im free from family issues and i can continue this series. I hope you enjoy it. SMUT in the future chapters, i promise, don't forget to share your thoughts with me. xxx

TAG LIST IS OPEN! (let me know if i forgot to tag you)

Warnings; Baron being a weirdo.

Words; 3.584K

Chapter Five ''A Delicious Meal''

Feyd-Rautha Harkonenn didn’t know what to do, she was in his arms.. at least one of his long time wishes came true but he would’ve preferred a better scenario, he carried her to his king sized bed, covered in black silk, as soon as he laid her gently he called for his most trusted doctor. The man was tiny and bald, his eyes were jet black and had no whites, he had been serving Harkonnens for years. Feyd was standing a step away, watching carefully, he watched the doctor examine Y/N, Feyd’s eyes never leaving her body and to see if the doctor ever dared to touch her inappropriately. ‘’Due to change of climate and stress Lady Y/N’s body lost significant amount of vitamins, it is most likely she has been skipping meals. I’m going to give her some pills to boost her energy, she must also finish her meals.’’ He placed a container of pills on the side table and bowed to leave, when the family doctor left Feyd found himself pulling a chair to observe Y/N sleep. Their fight in his twisted mind, the thought he had was he was right till she fainted into his arms. Maybe she was… No.

He dismissed these strange thoughts. She was in his domain an she had to follow his rules and obey. ‘’Little dove..’’ he caressed her long Y/H/C hair, he had  always been enamored by her lush hair, so beautiful and vivid. Whenever he got a chance of seeing her he would observe her hair and how it bounced and rippled like the waves of Caladan, her home.. not anymore. As children, Feyd, Y/N, Irulan and sometimes Paul were left alone when adults were talking business, their nannies would be present of course but they were free to play together. Feyd-Rautha would chase her, pull her hair to annoy her. He loved to get reactions out of her whilst they grew up their interactions got limited. They had to be present at certain meetings such as balls, ceremonies etc.

His mind wandered to a distant memory…

At his 16th birthday it was Feyd’s first time at the arena, it was a Harkonnen tradition, so the important houses were invited. He had been training for years and it was his time to shine, bring fame and glory to his family and also prove a ‘’certain someone’’ that he had become a man, someone she could notice finally. When he entered the arena his animalistic lust for blood made his body electric, the black sun was at the top, making the arena look like a glowing white desert. He had his black uniform and combat boots which made him look much taller, he could hear the crowd’s cheer, they were ordered to cheer for him but still, he bathed in it.

He greeted the houses who were seated at the private chambers, he could see her

Time to impress.

He didn’t forget to activate his shield and the games began, prisoners were released from the doors to the arena, they were injected sedatives to make sure Feyd would be safe. He was there to butcher.

With every kill the white sand got covered in blood and stick to his boots, with every kill he was cheered, celebrated. At the end of the duel he was dipped in his enemies’ blood head to toe. He bowed and let the fame wash him away in ecstasy. He gained the popularity of his people and the houses that came to watch him. He was sure he was going to get marriage deals one after the other. When he lifted his head, he noticed that her seat was empty, she was gone. Why? Before the feast he was determined to find her and confront her.

He bathed very quickly, got dressed and left his chambers. He asked guards of her guest chambers and got no answers, he tried her maids and again, no answer. He was irritated, where could she be?

‘’My Lord, you’re asked by Reverend Mother.’’ A servant came to inform him, he had to put this pursuit aside for a while.

Reverend Mother was in her chambers, she travelled here with Emperor’s politicians. She was standing, her long black dress sweeping the clean floor. Her face was covered in laced veil, she waited for servants to leave them alone. ‘’Activate silence.’’ She ordered and a shield surrounded them, no one could hear them, ‘’You have fought well.’’ She began, ‘’Our order puts faith in you, young Harkonnen.’’ He didn’t interrupt her, unlike Rabban, he had wits about him. ‘’You would be a worthy match for one of our sisters We are watching you and her closely. You may be dismissed.’’ He left.

He had a feeling that sister is someone he had his eyes on her since they were children. With a smirk he roamed the halls of his fortress of black and white. He had an idea, his legs moved towards the chapel, almost no one prayed or believed in something other than violence on this planet.

The room was silent, there she was on her knees praying. Her long violet dress bunched up on her knees, he watched her pray. It made him curios, what was she praying for? He wanted to give her a reason to be on her knees but he kept his eccentric ideas to himself and keep his wide awake manhood in check. Ever since venom of being a teenager entered his body he had fun having these thoughts of her, of course he had his concubines to warm his bed and yet they weren’t enough, he had a thirst only she could quench.

Y/N rose to her feet as she finished praying, he cleared his throat to get her reaction, she turned to face him. He was standing tall, hands clasped behind his back, ‘’I have noticed your absence at my coming of age celebration Lady Y/N.’’ he began, his snake like eyes trapped her in, ‘’Is something to matter?’’ he was genuinely wondering. Her gaze was distant, he could see the work of Bene Gesserit on her, ‘’Maybe I didn’t want to see prisoners getting killed.’’ She replied coldly, ‘’But you promised to-‘’ she cut him short, ‘’I have seen eough. Good day, Na-Baron.’’ And she left the chapel, leaving him in shock… no one dared to stood up to him before and there she was with her lioness fire.

Y/N was gaining consciousness, opening her eyes slowly, the room was too quiet, her eyes travelled in the room to see him sitting on a chair, in reverse position and watching her, his hands resting on the back of the chair loosely, she was in his bed chambers. ‘’What happened?’’ she moved to rest her back on the headboard, pulling her legs towards her, ‘’Change of climate, stress and skipping meals.. you will be under surveillance. I’ve  ordered your maids to bring your belongings here, you’re going to stay with me from now on.” She could feel the heat on her face, ‘’But Harkonnen traditions say that-‘’ Feyd bolted to his feet, ‘’To hell with the traditions, your health comes first,’’ when he noticed the questioning look from her, he added ‘’you are to birth my heirs. End of discussion.’’ With the mention of heirs her blood ran cold in her veins, she had been specifically avoiding the concept ever since her fate was decided for her, it seemed Feyd was the opposite. She wondered if she could leave after birthing his heirs… her heart told her that she was  humane enough to stay and care for her offspring, she couldn’t abandon them, unlike Feyd she wasn’t a monster.

Y/N Atreides watched him take his leave, after the door closed she took advantage of being alone in his chambers, his bedroom consisted of a balcony, metal wardrobe, a skin of a bear on the floor, it made her sick. The fire place was empty since it was a warm day, her maids and servants started o carry her belongings one by one, she didn’t mind them and moved to the living room side, the room was more colorful than the bedroom, by color; black, white, dark blue and grey here and there. A long table which was made of Giedi Prime’s famous tree, Pilingitam, placed close to the large window overlooking the city, the tree’s color was lime-green and it gave a strange pop of color to the room. A basket of fresh fruit just placed by a servant girl, she looked shy, her head bowed, not making eye contact ‘’Our Na-Baron has ordered to keep fresh fruit for everyday my Lady Atreides.’’ Y/N could see the blush on the girls pale cheeks, ‘’I understand.’’ She also noticed how other servants’ behavior changed with this knowledge, Y/N deduced that they weren’t used to see their Na-Baron being ‘’thoughtful’’.

She was suspicious of the fruit basket, she picked a green grape and smelled it, it had no unusual smell, she bit the grape and it’s sweet juice immediately filled her mouth, Y/N was stunned, it was delicious, she assumed the fruit is exported from somewhere else hence Giedi Prime wasn’t known for its luscious fruit trees. She sat on the chair, turned to watch the scenery before her on the large window and ate.

‘’My Na-Baron!’’ Feyd-Rautha’s servant ran, out of breath, he was in the training grounds, sharpening his favorite blade, ‘’Lady Y/N settled perfectly and ate the fruit you sent you had sent.’’ He smiled wickedly, sowing teeth, he saw his reflection on the shiny blade which was about to be dipped in blood, he nodded to the servant and dismissed him. He focused on his training all day until his uncle Baron Vladimir Harkonnen marched in through the heavy doors, the doors smacked against the stone walls and made him turn to his uncle. ‘’What is the meaning of this?!’’ his uncle yelled, floating in the air thanks to his high tech machine, ‘’What do you mean uncle?’’ Feyd pretended like he had no idea, they were under the Giedi Prime’s black sun, the heat didn’t compare to the heat of Arrakis yet it was enough to finish his training and together they moved to a private room. ‘’I’ve heard that Atreides girl will be staying with you. Tell me,’’ he pressed to lean in, Feyd had to look up, he hated looking up at him all his life. ‘’Dear nephew, do you care for this girl?’’ he had to be careful, Feyd bought time by cleaning his sweat covered chest, his muscles attracted the Baron’s attention for a second, he had to be careful, if his uncle suspected anything she would be in danger, he loved to torment her and she was his to torment, not someone else’s. His uncle had no tolerance for ‘’caring’’ his only passion was to keep his house’s powerful stance and leave a might legacy behind.

‘’All my life I’ve fulfilled your orders uncle.’’ Feyd began, he throw the towel away, his blue eyes focused on his uncle with distaste and fire, ‘’You and witches of Bene Gesserit told me to marry the Atreides girl and that’s what I intend to do, you ask for heirs to leave our house one day and that is what I shall do.’’ He explained his voice cold and uninterested. ‘’She is only an object to use and cultivate and I, as her husband-to-be, have to keep her physical health at best, her mental health is not my interest.’’ He didn’t break his composure, looking up at his uncle and he bowed to him, to show loyalty. ‘’That’s my boy. You may rise.’’ Baron left him there, pleased.

Feyd sat on the stone bench, his sweat cooling down, he had to be extra careful when it came to his uncle, Baron Vladimir was known for his cunning mind and sinister plans. Feyd had to be able to protect his wife and children in the future and it seemed near… he thought he could manage his uncle’s plans…

Y/N Atreides didn’t do much that day, she was still tired and in shock. She didn’t want to remember his gruesome ‘’gift’’ or their fight, her main problem at the moment was Feyd’s decision of staying together… in his chambers… she found herself pacing in his bedroom, the sun was setting, leaving the landscape of industry in darkness, she could see the lamps in the city were being lit one by one, at a distance ships were landing or taking off, those were the spice ships, all over the galaxy every living being’s destiny was bound to spice… including her. The door was knocked and opened, she turned to face the servant, she assumed it was a servant because Na-Baron had no manners such as knocking on the door. The servant bowed, ‘’Dinner shall be served soon, our Lord Na-Baron is expecting her ladyship to join him.’’ She had no choice but to obey his request. ‘’Tell my maids to come and dress me.’’ Her plan was to be silent, eat and go to sleep… somewhere except his bed.

Her personal maids dressed her in black, they said she had to represent her husband-to-be’s house, she despised the color and yet when she looked at herself on the tall mirror, she looked powerful. The dress was long with long sleeves, had a nice cut on her chest, her hair was braided Atreides style, loose and fluffy, her maids left and she approached to the door of the living room.

The fire place was lit, he was standing by the window, his back turned to her, his hands clasped at his back, Y/N literally saw his ears prick up like a hellhound. He turned confidently, his posture straight and he is covered in black clothing just like her, ‘’Finally.’’ He greeted her with a victorious smile, eyes roaming over her body, she felt his blue orbits shooting at her, table was set, candles lit. Did he really made the servants light candles instead of glowglobes? She couldn’t ignore how the candles changed the mood in the room, more serene yet with a touch of expectation of something new.

He moved to the other side of the tale to move her chair for her to sit, without a word she walked and sat, as he was pushing the chair back to its place she could feel his breath on her neck, burning her, ‘’I have to admit, you look ravishing in that dress.’’ His breath lingered for few more seconds which felt eternity, she kept her silence, eyes forward, he chuckled to himself and moved to the other side of the table and sat. ‘’How is your health?’’ he casually asked, getting ready to eat the meat before him, her eyes moved to the table, she also had rare cooked meat on her plate, when she moved the meat eith her fork she could see the blood under it, it made her sick so she looked up to him, Feyd was waiting for an answer, he noticed her expression change, ‘’I feel much better.’’ She replied, Feyd began to eat like a man starved, ‘’I had my training all day,’’ she didn’t ask but he was explaining anyways, ‘’fighting makes me starve like wolves.’’ It seemed so, she was in utter shock how he can eat that rare meat… Feyd remembered his conversation earlier with his uncle and went silent.

‘’Start eating,’’ he noticed that she still didn’t touch her food, ‘’or,’’ he continued but Y/N cut him off, ‘’Or you will kill another servant to teach me a lesson?’’ she sarcastically said, still traumatized by that incident. His presence made her feel uneasy, he was the reason why she had to leave everything behind and it made her blood boil in despise. Y/N heard Feyd’s chuckle, ‘’Or I will feed you myself.’’ He finished.

A mental image flashed in her mind’s eye, thanks to Bene Gesserit mind work she could imagine more vividly than normal people, in the image Feyd was sitting next to her, very close, abnormally close and feeding her slowly, wiping her lips with his thumb and sucking it, there was a sexual undertone to this image, she pinched her skin to wake up.

‘’No, thank you.’’ Couldn’t help but wonder his idea, she began eating fruit, totally avoiding the bloody meat, her senses were high so she could smell the blood unfortunately, ‘’Is settling in over?’’ Feyd asked, he was leaning on his chair, holding a goblet of red wine, his eyes shining like diamonds under the candle lights, ‘’We are disobeying the traditions. We should unite when we get married. I do not wish to attract unwanted attention than it is.’’ Y/N was being honest, ‘’Unite,’’ he said with a wicked smile, ‘’We can unite right now on this very tableif you please, little dove.’’ He drank his wine watching her startled expression, her slightly opened pretty mouth but she recovered quickly, ‘’I am settling in just fine.’’ She ignored his comment. ‘’I wish to learn the fortress better, so that I won’t have to rely on my maids to take me to places.’’

‘’I can show you around, I am sure you will get used to your new home.’’ He finished his drink and poured another, ‘’This isn’t home.’’ Y/N said under her breath, a sudden sadness washed her body up and down like the waves of Caladan. ‘’Hm?’’ he pretended like he didn’t hear, he wanted her to say it but she surprised him, ‘’Nothing.’’

‘’You don’t like rare cooked meat I take it?’’ he was taking notes of her likes and dislikes, ‘’I like it well cooked.’’ Feyd pressed a button on the table and in seconds a servant man rushed in immediately, ‘’My wife prefers her meat well cooked. If a mistake like this ever happenes again I shall serve her the kitchen staffs’ heads instead.’’ He wasn’t even looking at the servant, he was focused on the dessert he was eating, Y/N apologized quietly to the servant man who was shaking, carrying her plate back to the kitchens to bring what Na-Baron requested.

‘’I am not your wife.’’ Y/N protested in annoyance,

‘’Not yet.’’ He replied and looked to see her intransigent eyes, so fiery it confused Feyd, did he want her to rebel against him and be dominant or did he just wanted to crush her soul to his feet?

The servant brought back her table, ‘’It looks delicious, thank you.’’ She noticed how the servant’s expression change into confusion, Y/N Atreides was slightly impacting them in a good way. The servant them alone.

‘’Do we have to have dinner together every night?’’

‘’Why?’’ he placed his fork on the metal plate, wiping his mouth with a black piece of cloth, ‘’You don’t find me pleasant to look at?’’ he teased, trying to get a reaction out of her, ‘’The table looks more pleasant.’’ She replied coldly, her hands on her lap, sitting tall and immobile, ‘’I have to make sure you finish your plate.’’ He got up from his seat coming to her, ‘’I want strong sons.’’ He added and pulled the chair next to hers. ‘’You forget, I am a Bene Gesserit witch, I choose the gender of the baby.’’ She was watching his movements, what was he doing? He got the fork and knife and cut her meat into cubes, ‘’What are you doing?’’ she looked puzzled, was her mental image becoming true?

‘’Like I have said, I want strong children and a strong mother to take care of them. Now,’’ he got a cube of meat to the fork, ‘’open wide.’’

Y/N could feel the heat rising to her face, ‘’I can eat-‘’

‘’I don’t trust you.’’ He was so forward it caught her off guard, his face held the truth, her Bene Gesserit training was yelling her in her mind, ‘’He doesn’t trust you that you can take care of yourself on your own here..’’

She was trying to find a correct path to manipulate him,

‘’Give in.’’ a voice in her head said,

And she opened wide. ‘’Little dove, see, some things are so easy when you let your guard down.’’ He was close to her, feeding her, the meat was delicious.

‘’Giedi Prime isn’t welcoming to outsiders. His voice was low and she can see he was telling the truth, he got another cube of meat when she swallowed, ‘’Good?’’ he asked as he fed her again, Y/N nodded, she realized how hungry she was, the juice of the meat running down at the corner of her mouth, Feyd wiped it with his thumb and licked it clean. Their eyes never leaving as if it is a contest, in silence she let him feed her.

‘’Good girl.’’ He praised, and watched the effect it had on her. Their eyes refused to part, she didn’t want him to think that she was afraid of him, she wanted to insert her presence to him but his aura was too strong to bare. ‘’What did you mean by Giedi Prime not being welcoming?’’ she noticed he was trying to say something without being obvious, he placed the fork on the plate, leaned back on the chair. ‘’It is easy to make enemies here, one wrong move and you lose. You’re a smart girl, you can figure it out.’’ And he stood up,

‘’Shall we sleep?’’

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[n1ghtfurys]

Apocalypse with König

Part 1: Word count: 9475

There's a little bit of gore, mentions kidnapping, weight loss due to lack of food

You'd found him on the road.You'd been planning on making it to your grandparents, since they were in the country. You figured you'd be safer with them if they were still alive and if not you'd at least have a house, maybe their food was still good. They had a greenhouse and so maybe you'd even be able to figure it out.

You hadn't expected to find anyone on your way. Especially since everyone of importance had been evacuated to quarantined cities, and most of the other people who hadn't made the cut had either: started or turned. An unlucky few probably fell prey to the military, and other people who had decided it was better if everyone was dead.

The motorways were mostly deserted and as much as you were out in the open, you felt safe enough. There were deserted cars for cover, which you'd pick through, and sometimes get lucky in finding a first aid kit or something wearable.

You'd lost your mother and siblings in the chaos of the first days, you hadn't heard from them in months and figured…hoped they'd gotten to safety. You knew deep down that they'd probably died looking for you but it was, and still is, easier to hope.

You'd never been great at maps but you could remember places from how they looked and the road signs were all relatively intact. Unlike the movies with zombies, the government hadn't tried bombing or burning down populated areas. They'd simply taken the rich and important and hid them, stowed them away, and left the regular people to die. At the start there were churches and homeless shelters trying to help; Taking in traveling families and stragglers, trying to at least; especially, in their own cities but all it took in those places was for one infected to get in and they'd all be gone.

You'd tried one for a while, even made a few friends, but you'd barely managed to get out with your own life so you didn't figure anyone else had.

When you found König, him finding you might be more apt but still, you were running low on water. You didn't trust yourself to leave the main roads and since you hadn't come across any running water you didn't have the chance. It was autumn so you'd scavenged blackberries from the bushes on the side of the road and occasionally you'd come across a granola bar in one of the cars but other than that you'd been hungry and tired. Sleeping in cars hadn't done you much good either.

It has been quiet, eerily so. You hadn't come across an infected in at least a few days, which had surprised you but you didn't want to jinx your sudden good luck. Dealing with the infected was hard, at least before him it was. They were often stronger than you, and even if they weren't they were hell bent on ending you. You had managed to get your hands on a hatchet from the back room of a hardware store somewhere along the road.

You were sleeping in the back of an abandoned car before you heard his footsteps. You weren't sure if he'd seen you or not, you hoped not. Most people on the road were desperate, like you, so they were often willing to use whatever force they deemed necessary. Of the bodies on the road, at least the ones you'd come across in the past few days, only a few of them were probably due to being infected, the rest had various stab wounds; while others had arrows sticking out of them- You wondered who had provoked who.

The memories of all the dead you'd passed on the road in the last few days came flooding back. You had thought, at the time, that the chances of the guy who was practically stomping around out there, was probably the guy who killed all of those people; People like you, who were just trying to get from point A, to B. You tried to stay low hoping that he wouldn't see you. you could just about see him in the rear view mirror.

He was tall, like really tall and very built. The bruising on some of the bodies made more sense considering the size of him. You waited until he had disappeared completely from view before you got the courage to open the door.

It opened more quietly than you had expected, much to your appreciation. You pushed forward, essentially following the man. He was slow and gradually more meticulous the further along the road he got. When he had passed you he was just casting fleeting glances around the sea of deserted cars but now he has started peering through the glass and checking under cars. You had managed to stay relatively out of sight or at least you thought you had.

You hid behind a car when he turned back on himself. You hoped he wouldn't see you. He didn't move for a while and then he chuckled deeply. You heard what sounded like the creaking of a slowly deteriorating car as he assumably lowered his weight onto the hood. “I know you're there maus” his accent was heavy but his voice was definitely not what you'd expected. You'd expected deep and gravely. It had only met one of your expectations.

Regardless, his acknowledgement of your presence made your blood run cold. You were already on edge, the lack of food and good sleep had left you in a state of near constant anxiety. You didn't say anything in response hoping that maybe he would just forget about it and leave you alone. “Come out, kleine maus” his voice was softer this time but he was still a threat.

Maybe if you managed to surprise him ,If you injured him enough then he wouldn't be able to come after you. You settled on making a run for it.

You often wonder if things would be different now, if you had chosen to attack him instead of trying to outrun him. If maybe you would have joined the bodies on the road or even made it to your grandparents.

It ate at you for the first few months with him. You resented him for taking you away from the road, for being nice to you when you treated him with such venom. For keeping you there, at first you had felt like a prisoner, refused to talk to him- look at him; even to eat for the first few days but that didn't last as long as you'd hoped it would.

You'd hated him for months. Despised him so entirely that you couldn't count the number of times you'd considered his death.

You'd attempted to escape a few times only to end up lost in the dark, then thrown over his shoulder the next morning when he'd somehow find you.

You hated it. Hated him for it. Just hated everything. In hindsight it made sense, he was probably just lonely and really, you were too but at the time it felt like hell.

When he brought you back; Originally, you'd kicked and screamed doing no real damage past hurting his ears. You did the same every other time he found you. You both had a routine by your third escape; he would find you curled up under a tree, trying not to freeze to death (after the second time he started putting out wooly clothes, in case you tried to run off again) and then he would carry you back to the house. You'd be locked in the sitting room for about 10 minutes, before he'd open the door and wait for you to walk through it. When you inevitably refused, he would just throw you over his shoulder again.

You would be put down in the bathroom next to a hot bath, which you would refuse on the grounds that you don't want to like him. Despite him being incredibly nice to you (past the kidnapping part) you didn't want to like him. You found out after the first night that he'd give you about an hour; in that hour , you assumed, he hoped you would bathe but when he came back he'd always find you wherever he left you- which for the first few times was the floor but later became a rocking chair.

It was a nice chair, rustic. It looked almost as if it had been hand carved, probably not but maybe. After his failed attempt at a bath he would move onto food.

In between your attempts to run away, you'd begrudgingly accept food. Usually, it would go cold before you would even consider touching it, but it was never too long before you to got sick of ignoring how your stomach growled.

You assume he took note of what you liked eating or at least did his best, because more often than not there were things you liked on your plate. You're not sure how he knew really, if it was how quickly you ate or which order you chose to eat things. He never really said anything, not that you would have responded but still.

Since the last time, you'd been trying to figure it out, racking your brain and trying to remember which way he had walked on the first day. If you ran fast enough you could probably make it back to the road, or you would end up terribly lost and scared and utterly screwed.

You waited until all movement in his room had ceased and then made a break for it. He hadn't taken any of your stuff. You thought that it was because he found you entirely unthreatening or he thought you were too weak to use it- either way it pissed you off. Sure you'd been living on scraps long enough for it to take its toll on your body but you weren't weak. Boney, sure but weak? No.

You managed to get out of the house with ease, as much as you thought he'd kidnapped you; he gave you free range of the house and the garden. It was nice, you could see yourself living there if it wasn't for him.

You make it to the forest and come to the conclusion that it was downright idiotic to try this again. The leaves of the trees made such a thick canopy that they all but separated the sky from ground, so much so that when you made your way into the forest you could barely make out your hand in front of your face.

You ignored the ringing sound in your ears and the way your heartbeat was hammering in your chest . You grip the hatchet you'd found on your trip and venture deeper into the forest. You hadn't heard any howls as of yet, so that was a good sign- it was actually relatively still.

You made your way deeper and deeper. Sinking slowly into the monotonous task of walking and the comfort of silence. You came to what looks to be the center of the forest, you can't remember whether you had come this way when he took you from the motorway.

The bushes behind you rustled and panic seeped into you. You recognised the uneven steps and incoherent muttering almost immediately- infected. You freeze, maybe it wouldn't see you. You thought you only heard one set of shuffling feet. Maybe it wasn't even coming in that direction, maybe you would have gotten away but your luck was never that good.

A scrawny, unkempt man stumbled out from the bushes. You tried to stay completely still but it was no use, he'd either spotted you or heard you earlier. His gaze was trained on you. He was probably about 17 before he got it, he was missing a shoe. It would have been funny if it wasn't for your impending doom.

He'd stopped muttering, the froth around his mouth dropped down his chin as he drooled. The government had tried experimenting on the first hundred-ish infected. The only thing they had determined was that it was similar to rabies. There were some consistent traits, infected wouldn't go near water, you could even hear them screaming whenever it rained. At first it had upset you listening to them wail but it had become a regular occurrence especially since it was autumn then.

It was all good and well knowing that they didn't like water but it did you no use then. You didn't know where the nearest source of water was. You couldn't hear the sound of a stream or anything similar.

The boy hadn't moved the mixture of froth and drool that had collected around his mouth made you feel sick. It was vile, worse to think that he probably had a family or friends that he probably hurt without even knowing. He had a bite mark right above his ankle, on the foot without a shoe.

You wondered how long he'd been wandering around. If maybe he was like you and he just happened to be less lucky than you. Maybe one of them had gotten him from under a car or while he was sleeping.

He took a step forward and you were forced back to the reality of your situation. That you were probably going to die, in the woods alone. You stepped back almost on instinct. He took another step, then another and then broke out into a full on sprint. You did the same, you bolted forward until the shrubbery got too thick and then wrapped around a tree and came back on yourself.

You looked back to find him only a few feet behind you, he was breathing heavily but quiet. You always hated when they got quiet, meant they were focused, determined. He was probably hungry too.

Your foot caught something as you ran and you hit the floor hard. You scrambled back as fast as you could but he was on you before you could even get up.

That was it, you were gonna die in the forest alone. All because you didn't want to accept help from that shockingly, nice kidnapper.

You locked your arms out in hopes you could hold him back but he was heavy and strong and even though you'd been eating again, you hadn't had time to get much weight back on, let alone muscle.

He wasn't focused on your neck specifically, he was searching around for any exposed flesh. Your mind flicked back to the people you'd seen on the road, the few you had figured weren't by the man. They'd all been missing flesh, the infected here were hungry. They definitely weren't fast enough to catch wildlife and these places didn't get much foot traffic.

You heard a branch snap. It was most likely just a deer or something being far smarter than you and leaving the area before it too got itself killed but for whatever reason the movement had caught the boys attention too. He stopped trying to push towards you and instead looked up at the source of the noise.

A large boot crossed your line of vision before it made contact with the boy. It sent him flying back off of you. He didn't even have time to react before a machete was pushed through his chest. The sound of ribs cracking under the strain made you feel sick, the boy tenses and let out a strained sound. The man twisted the knife, another crack but this time he went limp.

You wanted to be sick, wanted to cry, wanted to run but your chest hurt and your legs wouldn't move. The man looked over at you then back at the body in front him

“Sorry Maus.”

You looked back at him entirely dazed- He'd got a mask on. He had never worn a mask around you before. Looked more like a sheet he'd thrown over his head with some stitched eye holes. It's funny, it should make him less intimidating but the fact that he's upwards of 6’6” eliminated any sort of humour in the situation. 

You were completely frantic and scared. Tears welled in your eyes, you tried to will them back down but you couldn't. You didn't want to cry in front of him, didn't want him to think of you as any weaker than he already did but you couldn't stop them. Overwhelmed was an understatement. You were relieved but still so terrified. 

You looked past the wall of a man in front of you and watched the boy's body twitch. He was definitely dead but that didn't make it better. You felt sick, disgusted by the sight of his mangled chest. Plus the adrenaline was leaving your body faster than you would have hoped. It left you aware of how fast your heartbeat was, how much your arms hurt from having to hold him back and a dull throbbing in your wrist. 

He retracted his hand and made his way over to a log. He sat facing you, you couldn't make out his eyes under the mask, you didn't even know what colour they were. 

He didn't say anything, just watched you. He didn't speak; didn't make any more moves towards you- just sat there and watched. It was weird but you felt safer having him there. Maybe it was because he'd saved your life or because it was in his interest just as much as yours to kill the infected on sight but it was still a comfort.

You eventually pulled yourself up from the floor, you did your best to avoid putting pressure on your wrist. With the last of the adrenaline having worn off, the dull ache had morphed into shooting pains. 

He watched you get up, probably watched how your legs trembled slightly. “Nobody's keeping you here Maus” His voice was soft, nice and somewhat familiar. He didn't talk much, at least not to you, but he'd mutter around the house or humm songs in what you assumed was German. 

You immediately started off walking in a direction you hoped was the motorway but there was no way to tell.The forest was thick and it was dark and there could be more infected; not to mention the  state of your wrist. It wasn't going to be much use to you if it was broken. You barely made it out of the clearing before you stopped and turned to look at the man still on the log. 

He cocked his head to one side and examined you. You had supported your damaged wrist with the other arm and lifted it to dull the throbbing, at least a little. Not that it had helped much but still you had tried. 

“You're hurt?” He sounded almost amused by it. That had annoyed you, how was any of this funny? You had almost died and he was amused by it or maybe it was the crying- either way it pissed you off to no end.  

You moved to flip him off but it sent waves of pain up your arm. Maybe it was broken. He watches you wince and lets out an amused huff. 

“So yes?” he still sounded the same, slightly softer after watching you wince but still. You bet he had a stupid smirk on his face. 

“Why the mask?” It's the first thing you had said to him since you met. It seemed to shock him. He took a while to answer you. 

“Military. Used to be part of my uniform.” It didn't really explain much past the sheer size of him. Actually it didn't explain anything at all. He wasn't still in the military since it didn't exist anymore and you had absolutely no context to why he put on the mask in the first place. You nodded regardless. 

You weren't really sure what you wanted. If you wanted to go back to the house where you knew it was at least safe or if you wanted to run. Ok you did know, you had wanted to run but that feeling of safety he had, unfortunately,  presented you with made you want to stay. You hadn't felt truly safe in months and it was nice, even if you didn't want the source of safety to be him. 

“What are you doing, Maus?” It was as if he could tell what you were thinking. Maybe he could. 

“What?” You responded quickly. Pretending to be confused by the vague question. 

“You wanted to leave, no? This is your chance. Leave.” he sounded a little flat, there was always something to his voice when he spoke, some sort of emotion but it was gone. “Nobody is going to stop you Maus.”

You're not sure why but it upset you, that he was suddenly so flat. “What happens if I stay?” 

His head fell to the side. “Change of heart?” 

You nodded. Really you just wanted to not be attacked. You didn't exactly enjoy life on the road, not that you enjoyed life with him any more but at least you didn't have to deal with the stresses of the road if you stayed. 

“So I don't have to carry you back?” He chuckled and you just nodded again. It had become part of your ritual, a part that you didn't want to admit you enjoyed but it was fun to see him lift you with such ease.

Still, it wouldn't have made sense to make him carry you back after you agreed not to run off. “No.” You nodded and got up from the log, you kept your arm in your clutches, it still throbbed. 

The walk back was entirely silent. You kept your eyes trained on the floor and he walked slightly ahead of you. You weren't sure why at the time but you had appreciated it. 

When you got back, he fell right back into his old routines. You found yourself back in the living room, although this time when he had gone to lock the door he paused and simply left instead. You considered following him, watching him draw the bath but you decided against it. You weren't sure why you wanted to be around him, maybe it was the whole saving your life thing or maybe it was because he was sweet. Not that you would ever admit it. 

He came back right on time, around ten minutes and stood at the door waiting for you. You stared back at him, you didn't really know how you wanted to play this. He wasn't keeping you here, so you didn't want to be inconvenient but you still didn't like him. Not that you had as much of a reason to but regardless it didn't change how you felt about him. 

He stared back for a while before he sighed and pushed himself up off of the door frame. You looked back down at your feet and then stood up. You heard his footsteps stop as you got up, he waited for you to look up at him before turning and waking off. 

He looked back after a moment to check that you had followed him, you had. He still had his mask on, you were so curious about it. Once he escorted you to the bathroom he paused at the door. 

“Let me check your arm.” He held his hand out waiting for you to present him with the wrist that was still throbbing.

You looked at him skeptical before you offered your wrist, you flinched when he ran his fingers over it. After a few moments of examination he lets go. 

“I don't think it's broken, and if it is, it's a fracture. I'll put it in a sling later. Just try not to bash it on anything.” He sighed and started to leave.

“I'll be back in-” he started looking back at you as he said it.

“Yeah, 1 hour. I know.” you cut him off. You expected him to be annoyed by this but he wasn't. You could see his eyes crinkle up and he made an exaggerated exhale sound, one that could be mistaken for a laugh. 

“Clean yourself up, Maus.” his tone was lower,softer. He sounded quite nice really. You listened to his footsteps as he walked back down the stairs. For such a large man he was rather quiet. 

You looked around the familiar room; at the bath tub which was filled with hot water and what looked and smelled like rosemary; at the chair in the corner which had a folded up towel resting on the seat; at the door that barracked you from the rest of the house; at the walls that separated you from the outside- from them. 

The thoughts came flooding back to you and you shuddered, thinking about what could and would definitely have happened if…you still didn't know his name. He had a whole nickname for you and you didn't know his name. You felt a little ashamed by that. 

You shook your head and tried to remind yourself that you didn't care about him even if he was really nice to you and clearly cared, at least a little for you. 

Your muscles ached and you would be lying if you said a bath didn't sound good but you were still reluctant to be so vulnerable in such an unfamiliar place. He did say you had one hour and you knew you had one hour. Reluctantly, you started to pull off your shoes. 

Who would it hurt? You were already in pain and if he had wanted anything like that he would have done it already. There was no point stressing, it wasn't going to help anyone, least of all you and you really wanted to not be in total discomfort. Especially not with the sharp pain in your arm. 

Eventually, you had pulled off all but your underwear. Folded all of your clothes in a pile next to the tub. Only now had you realised just how dirty they were, how dirty you were. You dreaded having to put those back on but that was a problem for later. For now you wanted to enjoy warm water and an actually nice smell. 

You looked back at the door once more, still a little paranoid that he would burst in and find you like this. All of those thoughts went away when you lowered your foot into the water. You hadn't had hot water since everything had gone to shit. 

You put the other foot in and then lowered yourself into the water. You sighed audibly as the warm water enveloped your aching body. It was nice, you felt lighter even if the smell wasn't doing anything to help your pounding head. 

You sat back, resting your back against the edge of the back and spreading out. Letting the warm water soothe your body. Gradually, you relaxed more and more. If you weren't so paranoid about a six foot ten man in a mask storming in on you, you would have stayed there forever. 

You didn't let yourself relax for too long since your mind had drifted back to the boy, so you busied yourself with washing all of the dirt from your skin. You watched the water gradually go from clear to a milky brown, as you scrubbed the dirt from the skin and hair. It felt nice to be clean and to smell of something other than sweat. You looked up at the ceiling and tried to figure out how long you'd been in the water. It must have been coming up to an hour now.

If you listened really carefully you could hear him pattering about in the kitchen. You managed to pull yourself out of the embrace of the slowly cooling water when you heard the pattering switch to slow footsteps up the stairs. When he reached the door he knocked, you panicked even though you had already wrapped yourself in the towel he had left on the chair. 

He opened the door a crack, clearly waiting for some indicator that you weren't still nude or in the bath. 

“Maus?” He seemed unsure. Whatever semblance of confidence he had, had left his tone. 

“I'm decent.” you assured him. You heard him puff out a little sigh of relief at that and he opened the door the rest of the way. He was holding a roll of bandages.

“You bathed.” he seemed both shocked and entirely unsurprised. You just nodded and looked down at your feet and the gradually expanding pool of water around them.

“I've got the sling.” He laughed at himself. “It's not a sling yet but-” He trailed off and looked down.

“I can do it later if you want Maus.” You shook your head and let him sling your arm, his hands felt warm on your skin and the fabric clung to the water still dripping from your hair. It wasn't so bad though, since some of the pressure on your arm was finally gone.

Your eyes drifted to the pile of clothes you had stacked by the bath. You really didn't want to have to put muddy clothes back on your finally clean body. His gaze followed yours to the pile of grimy clothes you had stacked by the bath.

“Come Maus.” This time he didn't look back to see if you were following. You hesitated for a moment, before you grabbed your clothes and scrambled to catch up with him. You weren't unfamiliar with the house. You had been there for a while, but now you were actually walking around it: One, when you could see and two, not while being flung over his shoulder.

It was nice, quaint. You had mostly envisioned living in a place like this when you were a kid. It was small and the floors were rickety, even crooked in some places, but it was nice. The walls, at least in this hallway, were a muted green and at the top of the stairs there was a table with a pot of flowers and a small book with a pen lying next to it.

He led you to the room in the corner. The one he had stowed you in, in the first few days. Originally, you had felt trapped but it was nice to walk around and actually take in the place.

He stopped at the door and waited for you to go in, then nodded towards the clothes he must have folded and placed on the bed.

You had previously refused to take in the room, but now that you were looking at it, it was nice. The walls were a pale violet and all of the wood in the room was light (birch maybe?); it was bright and airy, despite the fact that it was probably the early hours of the morning at this point.

You jumped when he shut the door. You heard him walk back down the stairs and figured it was probably time you stopped standing around in just a towel. He had left you another wooly jumper and a pair of baggy jeans, which were slighting too big on your waist, but you could definitely sort them out with a needle and thread.

You pulled your socks on before admiring the room for a little longer. There was a flower on the windowsill, you had never been good at flowers, but you were pretty sure it was a lily. On the wall to the left of the bed was a fireplace, it wasn't lit, but it was still warm from the fire he had built the night before for you.

You eventually made your way down the stairs, your steps never sounded quite as heavy as his. You placed that more down to the worn converse you had on, in comparison to his heavy combat boots. You could hear him humming in the kitchen, so you followed the sound and found him, slightly hunched, over the stove.

It was a little funny watching him in the kitchen, the ceilings were just high enough for him to stand up straight, but there were wooden beams running across the room in almost all of the rooms, so he had to hunch a lot. You wondered if he ever forgot and hit his head.

He turned his head when you hovered in the doorway. The mask lay next to him on the counter and he smiled when you met his eyes.

He hadn't said much of anything really, but he did nod towards a glass of water on the counter, which you reluctantly drank. You tried to look around him to see what he was cooking, but there was simply too much of him.

Instead, you retreated to the rustic looking table in the corner of the room. There were more plants in there than you had expected;it probably shouldn't have shocked you, because what better had he got to do than tend to plants?The world had literally ended.

You had thought about raiding a few bookstores, but you had never gotten around to it. You thought carrying books up the motorway would be a waste of valuable space and hell on your shoulders, but maybe if you were going to stay here you could get some? Who would it hurt? Not the already dead economy; definitely not the probably dead authors. That's if you were going to stay here. You had come back so you would have thought that meant- yes you were staying but were you really willing to stay with the man that had kidnapped you? Even if he wasn't still keeping you here.

On the other hand, it would be really nice to not have to worry about the world, or what would happen if you ever did make it up to your grandparents and they weren't there or they weren't alive or they had…Yeah, you would rather not think about that part.

It was times like these that you wished you had your mum, you hoped she was okay. That she had gotten somewhere safe and she had managed to stay with your siblings. You can't imagine she dealt well losing one child, losing more would probably break her.

You looked up to find him looking at you. You didn't entirely know what to do with that so you just stayed where you were and just looked into the water you were drinking. He turned back round when you didn't meet his eyes.

Whatever he was cooking didn't take long once you were downstairs, so you sat in a somewhat awkward silence for around 10 minutes before a bowl was placed in front of you.

You weren't exactly sure what it was, soup of some kind?. It smelt nice enough but you were still wary of it. It's not like you hadn't already been taking food from a stranger, but that was different. You needed that considering how long it had been since you had eaten real food and not just berries on the road.

Regardless, it felt different now, you pushed your spoon around the bowl and watched the vegetables move through the broth. It even looked like there was meat in there. It made sense, to you at least, you had assumed a man like him would know how to hunt.

He studied you for a moment, before leaning back against the counter and eating his own portion. You figured that was a good enough sign that he wasn't trying to kill you. You didn't really know why he didn't sit down at the table with you, maybe he was trying to make you less uncomfortable, maybe he also didn't like you. That thought bothered you a little, it's not like you should care because you didn't like him but what had you done to make him dislike you? Why did you even care that he might dislike you?

You decided to drown out your thoughts with soup- it was nice. Nothing particularly special but it was nice, you wondered if he likes cooking or if it was just a necessity for him. You didn't think you would mind picking up chores like that, if you did stay that is.

You took almost twice the time he did to finish your food. Especially since you spent most of the time pushing it around the bowl; it was mostly cold by the time you had finished, but you could feel his gaze on you and looking up felt like an unachievable task.

When you finally managed to look away from your empty bowl he smiled. “You look tired Maus.” He sounded sweet, almost concerned.

“Well I didn't get much sleep with my planning to escape and all.” Your response came out a little more dry and snappy than you had intended.

His face morphed into a frown at your response. “Maybe you should sleep then.” This time his tone matched yours. “You know where your room is.”

You felt a little bad, but you made your way upstairs anyway. You had no clue what brought on you being so rude in that moment. Maybe you were tired. You pulled the door, to what he had called your room shut, and got into bed. It was near dawn, but it was dark enough to sleep or at least to try. The bed was comfortable, a little dusty but it was nice, far better then the car seats you had been sleeping on prior to meeting him, you still didn't ask his name. Could you even now? Without it being awkward. Maybe? It's not like he knew your name either but he has been calling you Maus and you were okay with that.

You weren't sure when you drifted off, but now you wished you hadn't. You were back in the forest, you could hear the same shuffling from earlier, that poor boy's incessant muttering. You had tried to run but he was faster this time, on top of you in seconds. You stumbled, both of you hitting the floor hard and before you had time to react, he was pinning you down. The vile mix of froth and drool hanging from his mouth.

You screamed and thrashed, trying desperately to get out of his grasp or put some form of distance between the two of you- but it was no use.

Your eyes stung with tears and a sob tore through you, your wrist started to hurt again. The ache started morphing back to sharp pains. The boy shook you…the boy shook you? You slowly came back to reality, to the pale violet of the walls, to the dusty smell of the room, to the two warm hands that cupped your cheeks.

“Maus?” The man looked down at you, the concern he was feeling evident on his face.

You take a few deep breaths and then realise that he's touching you. You rip yourself away from him, as comforting as it was, you didn't want to like him. You did have to admit that it was comforting, but still you didn't want to get attached to someone and you definitely didn't want that someone to be him.

He seemed a little hurt but let you distance yourself from him.

“He can't hurt you, Maus.” You know he was just trying to comfort you but you also knew that the dead kid in the woods wasn't going to start walking again, and something about the fact that he felt the need to point it out annoyed you. Maybe it was that you were tired, you would have liked a good night's sleep or maybe it was just because you didn't want to accept that he was really nice.

“I know.” The words once again came out more snappy than you had intended. Maybe it was your lack of human contact prior to meeting him; you had never considered yourself to be one for holding grudges, but maybe it was because he kidnapped you.

He sighed and stood up from the bed. “I'll let you be Maus.”

“Um-” You immediately regretted opening your mouth. “What do I call you?”

The corners of his mouth curled into a slight smirk. “König.” His voice was low, almost a whisper, as he made his way to the door.

You hadn't heard a name like that before, when he reached the door you were suddenly struck with panic at the thought of his absence.

“Stay.” Your voice came out slightly strained and higher at the end, almost making it seem like a question. “Just until I-” Your cheeks had definitely flushed. “In case I-” You were embarrassed,you sounded like a child asking for a night light, but this was rational, right? It made sense to want someone there.

The smirk on his face morphed into a small genuine smile, as we walked over to a chair in the corner of the room. It was a bit worn but went shockingly well with the room. The chair groaned under his weight when he sat down.

You would be uncomfortable having his gaze on you if your eyes weren't so heavy. It was a struggle to keep them open. “König, is it German?” Your voice comes out quieter than expected, but he hears anyway. Despite your heavy lids you saw the nod he gave you.

“Are you German?” You muttered again, fighting off the need to sleep and taking advantage of your hazy mood.

“Austrian” he responded in the same soft tone.

By this point you had stopped trying to keep your eyes open. “Like Hitler.” your voice was heavy with sleep and you could hear your words starting to slur slightly.

He chucked at that, it was a nice sound. You heard the chair creak as he moved. “Yeah, I guess.”

You eventually managed to fall asleep, you weren't sure for how long, but when you eventually got up there was a warm stream of sunlight hitting your face. You weren't sure of the time, but you couldn't hear birds like you could in the early morning and when you looked over to the chair, König was gone. You could, however, hear grunts coming from somewhere beneath your window and the sound of metal hitting wood? You thought it was anyway.

You made your way over to the window, partly because it meant you got to enjoy the sun on your face for a while longer but also to investigate the noise. The room you were in backed out into the cottage's overgrown garden. Considering the size of the house the garden was quite big, although most of it now had been turned into space for crops there were still patches of unruly grass lining the areas of tilled dirt and the greenhouse that sat in one corner, near the hedge lining the back.

In the opposite corner was König, next to him were two piles of wood, one looked to be what he would use for fires and such and the other like the lumber he clearly intended to cut; He used a large tree stump as a surface to cut the wood.

You glanced around your room, the wardrobe caught your eye. It was nice, dusty for sure but nice. It had carved flower details on each panel of the door and a mirror on each side separating the panels. It didn't look like it had been opened in…well ever.

Much to your shock when you opened it, there was a small selection of clothes. You figured he must have scavenged clothes of all sizes ,but the ones in here seemed nice. There were a few pairs of jeans, more of those wooly jumpers he would put you in and some plain t-shirts. Folded up in the very back was a dress, it was sage green and had small embroidered flowers. It looked a little big for you -at least on the bust- but if he would let you, you'd take it in.

You held the dress up to your body, you even shut the doors so you could look at it against your form. You smiled at your reflection, it was a pretty dress and it suited you quite well.

As much as you wanted to wear it, you decided against it. Instead, you took one of the t-shirts and a pair of jeans before you folded the dress and placed it back in the wardrobe. It belonged on a hanger but they were none in there so delicate folding would have to do for the time being. Regardless, you had no intention of letting it gather dust in there.

You wondered if you would be about to find fabric in some of the looted stores, you had always had an interest in sewing and the idea of creating your own clothes brought a smile to your face- Something particularly rare since the outbreak.

You glanced back out the window and let your eyes fall on König as he brought down the axe on another piece of wood and finally made your way down the stairs and into the garden.

The sunlight felt just as nice, as it had through the window and the light breeze was equally pleasant.

König looked up when you walked into the garden. “Maus” he greeted you and placed the axe against the tree stump. He had worked up quite a sweat, which made sense;His sleeves rolled up and his breathing heavy from the activity.

“Good morning.” You had to look away because of how you felt your cheeks heat up. You had absolutely no idea what was happening, you hated him. He had essentially kidnapped you, so what if he had nice arms and his voice made you smile? So what if he was nice to you and had given you your freedom; not that you were sure he ever really took it away now. He still did it. Technically.

You looked up at the sun and figured it was probably late morning. Your days on the road had made it easier to judge, since after dusk you would have to take shelter in cars to avoid the sick.

“Do you do that often?” You cringed realising how much that sounded like a shitty pickup line.

He clearly picked up on that too because when he looked up from the stump he was smirking. “Gonna offer to buy me a drink too, Maus?” He teased. “I was running low.” He chuckled and picked the axe back up before looking at you again.

“Why don't you try, Maus? I'm sure it will make it more fun, at least for me.” He smiles and hands you the axe. “Know what you're doing?”

You nodded, even though in truth you didn't and having only one usable arm would probably make it harder. You hoped that what you had watched from the window would be enough to not have you make a complete fool of yourself. König set a log on the stump for you and then took a step back.

You gave him a nervous smile as you lifted the axe and then brought it down onto the piece of wood. The wood barely splintered but it was enough for the edge to go in. He snickered to himself while he watched you attempt to get the tool out; or the rest of the way through the timber.

“You can't laugh!” You complained. “You're ruining my performance!” You hadn't really noticed, but you were grinning too. You gave the wood a few more bashes before dramatically tossing it down.

You looked at him for a moment, trying to keep a straight face before the two of you burst out laughing.

“I did a great job! How dare you.” You spoke between fits of laughter. “Plus I'm down a hand!” You gesture to the sling before you cast your eyes back to the unchopped wood. “It was just really strong wood.” You tried to say it as seriously as you could, but it only made the two of you laugh harder.

“Thought you would be better with an axe” He nodded towards a bench at the back of the garden. Not too far from where he was. “Geh und setz dich.” When you tilted your head in confusion he smiled and translated for you. “Go sit, Maus.”

“You keep calling me Maus.” You weren't really sure if it was a question or if you were simply stating the obvious to him. In all honesty you were a little curious but maybe it was better not to know. “It sounds like mouse.” Yeah, definitely just pointing out the obvious.

“That's because it means mouse.” He chuckled again and if you were looking at him he would definitely still be grinning.

“You've been calling me a mouse the whole time?! Why?” You weren't sure why it shocked you but then again it wasn't exactly a common nickname.

“Because you're small, and cute, like a mouse.” He said it like it was obvious, you felt heat rise to your cheeks but that was just embarrassment- obviously.

“I'm like average height, you're just the size of a small house.” he let out an amused breath.

“Whatever you say, schatz.” the smile still hasn't fallen from his face, when he brought the axe down on another piece of wood. You gazed around the garden, it was pretty and very organised. You looked over the rows of crops, you couldn't imagine a guy like him gardening. Nurturing little seeds and shoots, but needs must right?

You got a little lost in your thoughts and the rhythm of him bringing the axe down onto the pieces of wood; You barely even caught yourself staring.

Why were you staring? It's not like you had never seen a man before. Technically, never that much man but still. He was just a guy, a 6’ft something guy that looked like he could snap a person in half but just a big guy.

He didn't seem to notice anyway, not that it stopped you from feeling embarrassed. You spent most of your time around him for the past few hours in some state of flushed. Which made no sense because you were still mad at him right? It only made sense to be. Even if he was sweet you were supposed to be upset.

You looked at the man you regarded as your captor. You didn't feel like that anymore. It was like if you really wanted to leave you could, probably could have in the beginning. He was sweet if nothing else, he was even willing to sit with you while you fell asleep ; You wondered how long he sat there for before he left. If he got up the minute you drifted off or if he waited.

God you were being such an idiot. It was definitely just because you had been alone for so long- Nothing more, just enjoying human interaction after so long.

You jumped when he brought the axe down on the wood again. You looked between him and the growing pile.

“Surely that's enough.” He nods in response.

“Probably.” He brings the axe down on another chunk of wood. “But I don't like doing this so it's easier to get a stockpile.”

“How long have you been here?” Considering the crops it must have been a while right? That would make sense at least, maybe it was a holiday home? Or he just moved here when things got bad because it was secluded.

“Found it.” He looked down at the wood, and his voice was quieter than before. “When I found it there were two-” He sighed.

“A couple lived here, when I got here they were already sick… I think the wife got it first, she was worse off.” He looked back up but didn't make eye contact. “They attacked, probably half starved and- well”

You got the rest, you kinda got the rest the minute he started talking. That explained the dresses in the wardrobe, the pretty furniture and probably the garden too.

After a while, you broke the silence. “Did the military know anything about it?” In asking, you failed to change the subject and lighten the mood but you were curious. You couldn't help it.

“Higher ups said it was like rabies, but they didn't tell us much more than shoot on sight. Not a lot else really” He seemed so nonchalant about it.

You knew that much, that much was on the news; then the radio when the TVs went down. The government knew it was like rabies and that you couldn't get bit, or swap any sort of fluids.

Regardless, it all happened so fast, since it was quite slow acting and nobody really showed signs;Until most people had it and by that time it was too late to think about a cure or a vaccine. Last you heard the government, or what was left of it, wasn't even trying to make a cure or a vaccine. They had simply hidden out in some ‘safe city', but that hadn't really shocked you either.

“Did you have to do that a lot? Shoot on sight?” He nodded in response and started piling the chopped wood back into the little storage shed in the garden, presumably to keep it dry.

When he got to the last few pieces, he picked them up and put them under his arm before making his way towards the house.

“You coming Maus?” You nodded and followed behind him, pulling the door shut after you. He placed the wood down in a basket and then went to the kitchen.

Lunch was cold soup, because he said he didn't want to start a fire this early in the day.You didn't particularly mind even if it was better when it was warm like yesterday.

The rest of the day was very uneventful, König went back into the garden and you sat with him. Mostly in silence, since you had run out of conversation topics and he was focused on the garden. Shockingly, more focused than he had been while he was working with the axe.

Over the next few weeks, you picked up the routine, it was rare that you would have breakfast; and lunch was always whatever had been cooked the night before. König would hunt every other Thursday- mainly hare. You went with him a few times, eager to spread the chores more. Only because you were going to stay, or at least until your arm healed then you might get back on the road.

So far you have volunteered for collecting and boiling rain water as well as cooking. Originally, you had offered to help garden (or hunt) but with one functional arm you weren't particularly good at either of those. The other problem with hunting being that you didn't really like guns or killing the animals.

So instead of hunting when he went out, you would forage somewhere nearby so he could keep an eye on you. He never put it like that but you knew that was why. It wasn't like you wanted to go far anyway, for fear of another run in with a wanderer.

It had been working well, the both of you appreciated the company and spreading the workload seemed to be helping König too. He looked less tired than he did before, you can't say he got any softer because he was always smiles when you were around but he did have more energy.

Obviously you did too, since you were finally able to eat more than scavenged granola bars, you were doing better too. The protein was helping your arm heal too and you couldn't deny how nice it was to have someone around to talk to.

Before you even really knew it, you had been with him a few months and your arm had almost completely healed. It was weaker than the other one and sometimes a bit achy but overall it was better and you were happy. The thought of leaving now was silly, why would you? To go up to your grandparents and probably find them dead? There was no appeal to it anymore, you had already lost enough people and the idea of potentially losing more was not something you really wanted to dwell on.

So it seemed like you were staying; regardless, you had become a functioning member of the house. You had jobs, jobs that weren't just to stay alive and not get lost.

So you decide you will stay because it's smarter, and that's easier to admit than staying because you're happy. Plus you just so happen to like the guy that ‘kidnapped’ you.

[artemismoorea03]

DP x DC Prompt: I Couldn't Just Let Him Die

So one thing I don't think is touched on enough is the fact that Danny never wanted to be a hero. Like, yeah, we all know he didn't want o be a hero and he makes a joke about it but when we actually think about it this was a life he choose because nobody else was there to help. The main reason?

He didn't want people to get hurt.

Something Batman would relate to.

Now, while I love the idea of Danny absolutely beating the shit out of Joker or any villain who absolutely deserves to have their shit rocked by a kid who is only 5'5" and weighs at most 120 pounds, when we actually think about Danny's character what's more likely? Again, no hate to any of the people who do those fics, keep it up, I love seeing Joker get his just deserts.

But hear me out.

Warnings for fighting, violence, and DC typical weapons.

There was a new meta in Gotham and he was driving Bruce crazy. This kid showed up out of the blue with absolutely no information on him anywhere online or otherwise with tech so outdated not even Oracle could hack it. The only thing Bruce knew about the kid was that he called himself 'Phantom' and that he was a teenager around 14 years old.

Other than that the kid had been a pain in the ass.

Muggings? Phantom took care of it by saving the person then lecturing the person until a Bat or police showed up then literally vanished.

Fires? Phantom would fly in and out of burning buildings repeatedly with no care for his own safety. No mask, no fire protection, nothing but the thin suit he wore.

Kidnappings? Don't worry, Phantom had it handled long before Batman could even get the call to help! EVEN WHEN IT WAS ONE OF HIS OWN KIDS WHO GOT KIDNAPPED!

Granted, Phantom never got in the way of a fight but the amount of evidence that was lost due to what he was doing and how he was doing it was inconvenient. Fingerprints got wiped, evidence of what started fires were covered in an unmeltable ice, kidnappers took off the second their captive was freed and were practically untraceable after that.

It wasn't until a massive Arkham breakout that he actually got to properly meet the kid. Every prisoner had broken out and the city plunged into madness as heroes ran around like chickens with their heads cut off. Villains against heroes, criminals verse vigilantes, villains verses criminals - it was a madhouse.

Batman could hardly keep track of it all but when one of Penguin's men threw a bomb into a crowd and it landed near Joker's feet there was a long silence. It was like the city had fallen silent all around him as Batman tried to get to the bomb.

Joker was a villain.

Joker had hurt his family, killed millions of innocents including his own son, but he was sick. He didn't deserve to die.

Apparently Phantom agreed because he flew faster than Batman could track him shoving Joker away from the bomb before encasing the bomb in ice.

"Hey! What's the big idea shovin' me, bub?!" Joker said, seemingly forgetting about the bomb that was still in the kids hand. Joker walked right up to Phantom, glaring down at the shorter male who just looked at him. "Think you're some kind of hero?!"

Phantom blinked, "I feel like answering that is a trap."

Joker grabbed Phantom by the front of his shirt, "A funny guy, huh? Think you can out joke the Joker?"

"Again. That feels like a trap. I'm not trying to do anything, Clowny. But I wasn't about to let you die."

Joker glared, "Why?"

Phantom slipped out of Joker's hands somehow, much to Joker's confusion. "Because that's not who I am. Criminal or not, I'm not going to let you die if I can protect you."

"Who says I need protection?"

Phantom held up the bomb again with a deadpan look. "Lucky guess." He said, then suddenly noticed something to his right. "Oh, gotta go. Later Clowny."

"IT'S JOKER!" Joker shouted after Phantom as he flew away. "Batman! Teach your baby bats some manners!"

"He's not mine, Joker." Batman said, marching over, grabbing Joker's wrists and cuffing them behind his back.

Not yet anyway. But with a mentality like that... maybe this pain in the ass could learn a thing or two from a Bat.

[zarvasace]

I have too many AUs and I'm not overly dedicated to this one but I figured I might as well share what I have of it :) It's a pretty good amount!

LU Space Crew AU

There is some art here!

Most who work the celestial highways long to find a place that they can call home. Most drift between crews and jobs, whether within the Kingdom or without. Some, however, live for the stars and find home is a cramped ship with engines rumbling the ground beneath their feet, and a crew that's almost family.

Those who man the special operations ship Epona are one such crew. Nine bright characters from across the galaxy, brought together through chance, staying together with determination. Though all of them have a home elsewhere, they've found cameraderie on Epona, and none are keen to leave anytime soon.

Epona and her crew are commissioned and funded by, but not officially employed by, the Kingdom. She goes where she will, to urban and rural planets alike, seeking out cells of the Black-Blooded, a mob-like organization that has infested every corner of the semi-united Kingdom. Whether the Director of the Kingdom has secret agendas for the Epona and her crew is unknown.

Time was a Kingdom special officer, trained from a young age. He comes from the planet Kokiri, but is not one of them. He is the only registered member of the alien race known as the Deities—a near-mythical people that adopt permanent forms similar to those they grow up around, identified by colorful markings and blank eyes. Whatever form they end up taking, Deities have unusual strength and kinesthetic awareness, bordering on supernatural. They also occasionally enter battle hazes, in which their abilities are multiplied, but they become dangerous and potentially unable to identify friend from foe.

After a harrowing mission in his youth, Time deserted the Kingdom and lived as a sight-after mercenary for a time, before meeting his wife Malon and inheriting the ranch on the planet LonLon. He was enlisted for the BB mission by an old friend, codename Sheik, who ensured (through dubiously legal means) that his record was wiped clean. He serves as the captain of the Epona and has grown very protective of his little crew.

Warriors was a high-ranking general in the Kingdom's army before his assignment to the BB mission. He is pure Hylian, which is rare, as the Hylian diaspora centuries ago ensured that most Hylians in the present day have other ancestry mixed in. As a pure Hylian, many people find Warriors's presence to be rather uncanny: his hair just a little too golden, his posture just a little too straight, his eyes just a little too sharp, his skin just a little too perfect.

He was instrumental in defeating the Black-Blooded leader Cia in one of the outer Kingdom systems, directing and participating in many of the battles himself. At first, he felt a little lost on the Epona thanks to the fact that he always had Artemis and Impa with him. He serves as the Epona's first mate, overseeing logistical issues such as supplies and schedules.

Twilight was a goat herder on Ordon until he was caught up in the invasion of the Twili rebels, when he worked behind the scenes with the Ordonian resistance group and the true Twili princess to overthrow the rebels and free Ordon entirely. In the process, he discovered that he was not, as he and everyone else assumed, part Ordonian human and part Hylian, but part Ordonian human and part Twili. Due to his ancestry, he has an alternate shadow form and several physical traits that have been growing in prominence since he discovered and has been using his shadow form, traits that make him a bit intimidating to most people (such as blackened hands, tough nails, small fangs, and occasionally glowing eyes.)

Ordon is not officially a member of the Kingdom, but its princess Dusk does her best to keep friendly relations with the Kingdom despite her efforts to stay independent. Twilight volunteered for the BB mission as a bargaining chip that she could use against the Kingdom. He was determined to dislike the Epona, but grew to love her and the crew. He serves as her second mate, in charge of their combat training, weaponry, and together with Warriors (and a vote from the crew if possible), is authorized to override any of Time's decisions or policies.

Sky is, as Warriors is, also pure Hylian, but his demeanor is a bit less uncanny. He grew up on Skyloft Station, which is a massive space station that once hovered over the planet First Hyrule as a place for knights and their families to live and train. The station disappeared when First Hyrule collapsed centuries ago and the Hylians dispersed around the galaxy, assumed destroyed in the aftermath. However, it appeared again a few years ago, out of a huge rip in spacetime. The station now orbits New Hyrule, the seat of the Kingdom. Its people are struggling a bit to adapt to the new era, but many ancestral Hylians are eager for a chance to know more about their lost heritage and culture.

Sky was a teenager when the station appeared in the present day, and won't speak much about the journey. He and Sun are the only ones who know exactly how much they did to get Skyloft Station safely home. Sun didn't love sending him out on this mission, but he wanted to explore! He is the Epona's primary pilot, responsible for navigation and actually flying the ship. He prefers to fly manually, since he doesn't quite trust the new automated systems.

Wild has also dealt with a bit of temporal displacement. He lived on First Hyrule as a trained knight until its collapse in the Calamity. He got himself and Flora out on a small research ship, taking a lot of damage in the process, and leaving Flora to pilot the ship for several years alone as he recovered in an induced coma. She flew out so far that when she came back, centuries had passed on New Hyrule. Unlike most who lived on First Hyrule, Wild is not pure Hylian. He is actually part Deity, lacking the distinctive markings but with very pale eyes and a hint of Deity strength.

He helped with a minor war in the Kingdom's outer reaches, putting him on the Director's radar. Flora now lives quietly on LonLon as an engineer. Wild is the Epona's computer engineer, fixing and updating her internal systems. (And occasionally causing havoc for fun.) (He also cooks. He thinks modern rations are an abomination.)

Four is a bit of an odd case, since he was not born. He was created by Kingdom scientists as a sort of proof-of-concept android made with brand new self-propagating nanotechnology. How and why he gained sentience is a mystery to even him, but he only managed to convince one scientist of it: Dot, who provided a huge distraction and excuses and allowed him to escape. He went back for her and, with the help of a small, kind alien race known as the Minish, managed to win recognition as a person and citizenship in the Kingdom. A certain offshoot of Kingdom scientists headed by Vaati attempted to recreate the success of Four and created Shadow, who lost his body in his fight for freedom. Four carries a chip holding what he hopes is Shadow's soul or something, perhaps to revive him someday.

He often works on himself, both hardware and software, hoping to expand his capabilities and perhaps discover the source of his sentience. His greatest achievement so far has been the ability to split his consciousness and body into four, and only four. The pieces end up fully independent, but rather fragile, and separating can take a lot of energy. Four is not particularly open about his nature, but he doesn't like hiding it. He volunteered for the BB mission in an attempt to find a low-profile occupation where he could work on his own projects and be protected by Kingdom power. He is the Epona's mechanic, somewhat wary of her computers, but he loves the ship and knows every rivet and wire.

Hyrule comes from a very rural planet called Kasuto, known for its frequent natural disasters and dangerous fauna, all things made more common after First Hyrule collapsed. (it is said that Kasuto resonated with the people so far away and mourns even now.) Some of the fleeing Hylians found refuge with the dying Kasitan race, and now the two peoples are virtually indistinguishable. It's a difficult world to live on, and there aren't many Kasitans in total, but their havens are tight and well-defended. Hyrule inherited a lot of the ancient Kasitan survival traits. He looks mostly Hylian, though leaner with longer fingers, but he has a number of subtle traits: eyes that can see much better in the dark (though not as well in the light), flexible keratin plates beneath his skin for an added level of defense, and the ability to go longer than anyone else without food or water. He can withstand and survive a wider range of temperature, pressure, and air quality than most others.

Hyrule fought many of his planet's monsters to help defend its settlements and defeat a tyrannical warlord. In the process, he found... something. Even he isn't sure what it is. But he can now help a body heal faster, he can raise a hand in a storm and channel lightning through his bones, and monsters always seem to find him. On a good day, he calls it a blessing from his planet. Legend suggested him for the BB mission. Hyrule is the Epona's medic and primary explorer, though he takes a support role in more diplomatic situations.

Wind is from a tiny fishing planet called Outset in a small, close-knit system. He is mostly Hylian, though he is also part Zora. His skin is scaly in parts, his eyes big, his teeth somewhat sharp. He has some webbing between his fingers, and as he's grown, he has to trim down the fins on his arms and legs like he does his hair. He learned how to fly a ship at a young age, and learned to swing a sword by necessity.

He found some old First Hylian technology under the ocean where he lived, which sent him on a journey through his system to defeat a wannabe warlord trying to take over. Once he was old enough, he got a job on a cargo ship, hated it, and was recruited for the BB mission by Tetra, his good friend who is (reluctantly) involved in Kingdom politics. On the Epona, Wind is a secondary navigator and an in-between-er, doing whatever needs to be done.

Legend could swear that he's experienced the same time dilation as Wild but in reverse. Trained in the techniques of the Kingdom knighthood but never actually enlisted, Legend grew up on the urban side of the planet LonLon. His parents were native to the planet Kakariko, and he is mostly Sheikah, which makes his form quite malleable. He had to learn quickly how to drastically change his body by force of will alone. Most Sheikah can manage to change their hair colors or height—Legend can mimic appearances very well, and has even mastered much more dramatic transformations, like turning into a rabbit.

Through his uncle, he made a few friends in Kingdom networks, and when Fable needed help, he went right to her rescue. And he's never really been able to stop doing those things. He loves the stars, and when Fable caught wind of the BB mission, she knew Legend would want in. He did. Legend is the Epona's primary face, the talker and the fountain of random knowledge. He's handy in a pinch and comes up with a lot of weird solutions to problems around the ship.

[dragonridernoobie]

Hello! I don't know if you're still staring intensely at your inbox bored... but! I can give you something to do for a little while if you'd like . It's my first asking, so I'll try to be simple.

How about a one-shot of Ganondorf x reader, where they both used to know each other well romantically before ganondorf became the god of power. (When he was still the king of gerudo), the reader could've been a simple traveler who traveled through the desert (they could be injured due to battles against monsters on the way there) and found themselves in the gerudo town or something where they met him in the market in disguise cause he try sometime to find peace away from all the responsibilities once in a while and they bond over thing they both like.

Some time passes, and their feelings to each other grow more and more until the reader has to leave because of an emergency at their hometown (idk a family member is sick and they need special treatment that is very hard to get) so they leave while promising to ganondorf to come back once the situation is over. But they never do.

Heartbroken and angry ganondorf becomes the god of power, and after some times the reader goes back only to find out by the new ruler of gerudo that he became the man that brought hyrule to ruins.

Idk maybe something with a little bit of hope at the end? The reader could meet link and help him get to the palace. Like they see the man they fall in love with still inside the corrupted being in front of them. And tries to bring him back?

It's a long ask, and it's totally fine if you don't want to write it or have the time to do it (I know it's a lot energy to write) But if it gave you ideas for a new story or inspired you little than that's all that matter 😉. Anyways! Have a wonderful day or night.

A ask is never too long, I'm sorry if this took so long. I was trying to think of a way to make this a good way of writing it. Since I write in so many ways. So, I decided to make it seem like a story. I hope you like it or love it, I'm fine with either. Thank you for being Paitent!!!! (Also, i changed the story a bit since I've never seen or played BOTW2, and I rather not spoile it for my self.)

The story of the human and the Gerudo King

Long ago, when life was still new and people were still new to the land. Lived 6 different races that rule these lands.

The first hylians came to the land from the goddess Hylia. They created the Hylians as the first race of Hyrule.

And from that race, came all 5 other races.

Rito, hyilans who became one with the sky. Zoras, hyains who became one with the water. Gorons, hyians who became one with the ground. Gerudos, hyians who have split off and became one of their own.

They are a unique species since they only live in the desert. Where they first became is unknown hut they are known for being made of woman and woman only.

But every 100 years, a male is born from a Gerudo, and it becomes the new king of the Gerudo.

The six species are unknown. No one rarely sees them, no one knows about them, but we only know one thing.

They are wise. They have ways to cure the most evil sickness. They know how to survive in places that shouldn't be possible, and they are hard to kill.

Sadly, at one point in time, a king who was ruler of Hyrule found where these humans were and declared war on them. He slaughtered all of them. Their species were lost in time, and no one them about them.

And this is where our legend begins

Before calamity himself became, to be, there used to be a simple king of his lands of the Gerudo. His name was Ganondorf.

His people lived in the desert. They struggled but were happy. Ganondorf traded with people across the land. People always wanted to trade with the Gerudos.

So this is where ganondorf met his love.

He was on his way to a city when the bridge he rode on collapsed. He fell great distance and fell in the river below.

Ganondorf disappeared for weeks and his kingdom feared the worst. Intel Ganondorf arrived and even more unexpectedly that he had a few people with him.

Word spread around in the city that the king was alive and the city was happy.

The humans showed the Gerudos their ways, showed them how to get food in unique ways, showed them how to fight aginst sickness and even showed them how to plant foods in the desert.

While the humans showed them their ways, a human named (Y/N) and ganondorf grown feelings for each other. They were happy, and for years, the humans lived with the Gerudos. Even the human males.

Sadly, (Y/N) had to leave. They had to cross the land to reach another human settlement that are in need of help. They told ganondorf they will return and set corse.

Weeks past and ganondorf waited, and waited, and waited, he waited for days, weeks, and months. After so long, ganondorf became angry and hurt. Angry since (Y/N) has left and that the hyilans have caused trouble.

Hurt because he believes (Y/N) abandoned him. So he decided to declare war on the hyilans and kick out the humans.

This is where calamity came to be. When (Y/N) found out what has happened, they were stuck with grief and hurt.

When link awakened and they met (Y/N), they both agreed to defeat calamity. When link was able to defeat calamity (The first BOTW) (Y/N), talked to him before he was slayed by the light bow.

"I promise to keep fighting for you love. Please do the same...."

Once he was slayed, they fled away. Zelda and Link never saw them again. Though, they wernt gone forever. They where just praying and helping their remaining village survive.

Though (Y/N) hopes to have her love once more.

[rea-grimm]

Sleep protector Sabo

It had been several weeks since that incident. An incident where a fire broke out and destroyed the entire building along with many human lives. You were inside when the surrounding glass began to crack and shatter due to the heat.

It was a miracle you even got out alive. Although you had a lot of burns and glass shards in your eye. You haven't seen on that eye since and you had the biggest scar there. 

The wounds from that incident were slowly healing and you even had an artificial eye so no one could tell the difference. You didn't like how others looked at you anyway.

Either they felt sorry for you or they looked at you from which gang you escaped. You didn't need pity. You wanted to be accepted as you were.

You've also been constantly dreaming about that incident ever since. Nightmares kept you awake and forced you to relive them over and over again.

After a few weeks ago you broke up with your boyfriend because of it. It was clear from him that he was attracted to someone else and that he was with you out of pity.

You had the impression that your whole world was falling apart. And no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't overcome it.

You had the impression that you didn't manage anything at all. You crawled through the exams with your ears scratched because the teachers took your situation and health into account.

Besides, you were in your last year and you were stuck at a dead end with your final thesis. You had the impression that at this rate you wouldn't be able to hand it in on time.

You didn't get any comfort from your family either. Both your parents died when you were little and all you had left was your older brother. However, he lived across the sea and he could not fly to see you.

Through it all, your brother was there for you. He constantly called you and texted you so you wouldn't feel so alone. You knew that if he could, he was truly there for you.

Instead, he sent you a little gift to cheer you up. You were expecting something small, like a postcard, but when you received the package from the postman you had no idea what it would be.

You took the package inside and opened it. Inside was a golden-furred teddy bear in a blue coat and hat with glasses. You noticed that the fur around his left eye was darker.

You took it out and underneath it was a sign with your brother's writing on it.

"Sorry, I can't be with you. I'm sending you this little protector here instead. P.S. Both of you are equally cute. With love, your brother.” you read it, and it almost made you cry.

You took the teddy bear in your arms and rested your head on it. His fur was soft and kept you warm. You had no idea what it was, but you felt calm and safe with him.

You fell asleep fairly quickly that night, but even now you dreamed about that damned fire. You tried to run away from the flames, but you were trapped. You were in the same room where you lost your eye. You curled up into a ball and hid your head in your hands. How long will you have to live with this?

However, no glass exploded and you had the impression that the fire was no longer as hot as before. You hesitantly put your hands down and looked to see what was going on.

The flames slowly diminished and a young man in a blue coat and hat with glasses stood in front of you. He had his back to you and it looked like he was controlling the flames and forcing them to retreat.

When your eyes met, he gave you a warm smile and held out his hand to you.

"Shall we go somewhere else?" he asked you. You hesitated at first as it felt strange, but eventually, you accepted his hand.

"Aren't you hurt?" he asked you as he helped you stand up. You shook your head. “That's good,” he smiled and started leading you out of the building.

He took you to new, diverse and wonderful places full of adventure. He took you to the desert where he compared you to rare beautiful flowers that grow even in the most difficult conditions.

You observed the stars that he claimed shone just like your eyes. He took you on picnics, and boat trips and always treated you like a princess. He made you feel normal again.

You had no idea how much a good night's sleep would affect you. You had a lot more energy and the world didn't seem so dark. Sure, it still had its dark sides, but it was much more manageable.

You would never expect how much a little teddy bear can help you. You were able to focus more on school and on your life, which had been slipping through your fingers until now.

You even decided to attend the prom you originally refused to go to. Although you didn't have anyone to go there with, you still didn't want to miss it. It was your night after all.

But what was worse, what to wear? To mask your eye or not? These questions raced through your head and kept you up late into the night. You held the teddy bear in your arms and wondered what to do with yourself.

You fell asleep only when you had the impression that someone hugged you and whispered to you to go to sleep. That the morning was wiser than the evening.

Despite all that, you couldn't come up with anything, and you weren't even able to rent or buy any clothes. You thought that you probably wouldn't really go anywhere and you'd rather be at home.

You had the impression that you had even confided in the young man in the blue coat about it during your dreams. He looked at you thoughtfully before beginning to describe a dress that would suit you. He described them so beautifully that you were sorry it was just a dream.

However, when you woke up the next morning, you noticed that you had a blue box with a bow on the chair next to your bed. You had no idea what she was doing there.

You sat up and rubbed your eye. To your surprise, next to the big box was another smaller one.

You got out of bed and went over to the boxes. You opened the big one first. You lifted the lid and pushed the pale blue paper aside. To your surprise, there was a beautiful dress like the young man described in your dream.

You took them completely out of the box, walked over to the mirror and put them on top of you. They were seriously stunning.

You were so blown away that you had to try them on immediately. You put them on and admired how they fit like a glove.

Without taking them off, you walked over to the other smaller box and opened it. Inside was an eyepatch with a velvet band and crystals that resembled drops of water falling over your eye on invisible strings.

You carefully took the jewellery and tried to put it on your head. It fits you perfectly and matches the dress extremely well. You also had several accessories at home that matched it too.

As the days flew by, the evening of the prom arrived. You took special care to look nice that day. Just for the feeling that the evening belonged to you and your classmates.

The first half of the evening went by quite quickly and you didn't even have time to worry about anything else. Entrance, toast, raffle sale...

But as soon as free entertainment arrived, you were there alone. So many people in such a small space and you had no one there to enjoy it with.

In addition, a slow song played and couples flocked to the floor to dance. You were thinking of going to get a drink when your eyes fell on a blond young man in a blue suit who looked like he was looking for someone.

As soon as his eyes fell on you, a wide smile spread across his face. You never saw him at school and the only thing you thought was that he must be a friend or a relative of your friends.

His face was covered by a mask, but it still looked incredibly familiar. As if you met somewhere.

“You look especially beautiful today, princess,” he told you, taking your hand and kissing your fingers. You were at a loss for words. You felt like you were in a dream.

“May I have this dance?” he asked you when he heard what music was playing. You agreed and you went to the dance floor together.

He put one arm around your waist and held your hand with the other. Together you swayed to the music and it felt as if everything around you disappeared and it was just the two of you.

You thought that the young man would stay there with you until the end, but when you went to prepare for the midnight surprise, you didn't see him anywhere after that. It shocked you a little, but the memories of dancing together still warmed your heart.

Some days passed since your prom and you were enjoying a bit of peace at home. You wanted to make it more pleasant with a scented candle.

You found one and lit it. A little way from her you had a teddy bear lying down to keep you company.

You had no idea how you did it, but by some oversight, you managed to drop the candle and set the teddy bear on fire. You wanted to save him, but you had no idea that he would quickly catch fire there.

In an instant, nothing was left of him but a small pile of ashes, the candle went out with them, and nothing else burned down. You just stood there staring with horror in your eyes for several long seconds.

Then you started sniffling, tears started to sting your eyes. How could you be so clumsy and burn your brother's gift? You mentally cursed yourself for it.

“My princess shouldn't be sad,” a knowing voice said into your hair as you felt someone hug you from behind. You were startled and turned to see who it was.

“Sabo…” you breathed out in surprise. Is this just a dream? You thought it through. After all, you only met him in your dreams… but you remembered dancing at the prom with him. Sabo smiled at your reaction and stroked your cheek.

"Besides, now I can protect you here as well," he added softly as his eyes fell on the patch you had over your eye. You kept wearing them here and there. You took her to town today and then you forgot about her.

“Princess, you're more beautiful than you think,” he said and removed the patch from your eye. He cupped your face gently, leaned closer to you and kissed you on both eyelids.

“It suits you better this way,” he said, face a few inches from yours. He literally melted your heart.

"Besides, now we match," he chuckled after a while. At first, you stared at him confused as to what he was getting at when it dawned on you. Both of you had scars on your eyes from the fire.

“That wasn't very funny,” you pouted, weakly punching him in the shoulder. Sabo continued to chuckle before he finally calmed down.

"Sorry," he said with a smile. "I couldn't help myself. But what I told you before I meant it,” he added honestly before leaning into you slightly.

It was up to you to close the gap between you and kiss him. Your protector.

Sleep Protector Masterlist

One Piece Masterlist

This chapter is for @kath-loves-toast

Amazing art created by @kath-loves-toast

[sepublic]

Adding to the possibility of Eda’s Requiem being the last “natural” TOH episode written where the writers didn’t have to worry about the shortening, where it was the intended pace and flow… It makes me think because in Hunting Palismen, we get our first proper glimpse at the coven heads, all nine! And then in the very next episode we see them again, this time without their cloaks, and are introduced to three.

I understand that with the shortening, the writers had to prioritize wrapping up pre-existing characters (with the Collector introduced as a second immortal friend for King when he outlives everyone else). And they tried to fit in Terra and Adrian where they could!

But man, if the writers didn’t have to worry… Makes me wonder if the next episode after Eda’s Requiem, if it wasn’t Knock, Knock, Knockin’ on Hooty’s Door, would’ve introduced another coven head; Maybe another three, per the previous episode, and the episode after that, the final three! Or at least two, one. Subsequent episodes having some coven head debut until that’s all nine.

I do speculate that Vitimir was slated next, given his presence alongside Terra and Adrian and nobody else; And not to get into conspiracy territory, but when asked about dropped coven head plot lines, Dana was able to remember Hettie Cutburn’s name, but not Osran’s, even if she talked about both. But she did name drop Vitimir even if she had nothing else to say. Which makes me believe he and Hettie were the most recent ones in Dana’s mind, due to being planned next!

After that is Osran and/or Mason; The storyboards for Any Sport in a Storm actually show Mason as one of the Penstagram accounts that Darius is scrolling through, showing off his grandkids! Seems like setup for Mason to make a proper debut with his family as a plot point. Makes me wonder if ASIAS and a few other episodes were also planned prior to the news, but had to be reshuffled and/or got left relatively intact.

(Did the writers also originally plan to include Mason before realizing they had no room, as they went through the process for 2B? Or was it just a cameo crumb they changed their mind on?)

After all, Clouds on the Horizon has storyboards depicting Amity with the portal key around her neck, despite that being lost long ago; Could just be a mistake by the storyboarder, I forgot which one. But what if that was going to follow up shortly after Eda’s Requiem, not Eclipse Lake, and would’ve been where Amity lost the key?

Of course, this implies that Alador would’ve gotten his act together even sooner than canon, or that CotH was changed quite a bit with some select moments still remaining the same, but the context around them being different due to the shortening forcing storylines to be reorganized. It’s amazing the end product turned out quite comprehensible and pretty satisfying!

With the original S3 plans involving the protagonists, Abomination mechs, and a desert, this all makes me think of Kikimora with Roka and her home of Palm Stings. And with Osran as someone who knew her mother and got her a position because of it, maybe his debut episode would’ve been there instead? Or he’s introduced around the end of S2A, and comes back for Kikimora’s backstory.

And since Odalia provides Roka the Abomatron, that whole bit wouldn’t have been there in the original version of CotH, maybe… Since Kikimora is there to kidnap Luz, which leads to her confronting Belos and Kikimora helping stop the Day of Unity in revenge. Or maybe she would’ve delivered the key to Belos, not Hunter. Oh to interrogate one of the writers over all of these things…!

[everydayyoulovemeless]

How do you think Ulysses(fnv) would be in a relationship?

Romantic Ulysses HCs

➼ Word Count » 0.7k ➼ Warnings » Possessive? ➼ Genre » Romantic

Ulysses has a habit of being a bit controlling in his relationships. Something inside him makes him feel as if he needs to loom over his partner's shoulders at all times. Maybe it's the fear of losing them as he's lost everything else, or maybe he's just a naturally protective person. Either way, he'd prefer if you stayed close to him.

He likes to log down his favorite aspects about you. He'll keep a journal and write down the features and habits he likes best. There are pages and pages of your characteristics that he adores.

He’s a tad manipulative when it comes down to a relationship of any kind. In his mind, he sees himself as a savior who needs to protect and defend you at any cost necessary, and that’s exactly what he intends to do. Weird complex, an even weirder boyfriend.

He finds out as much as he can about you—any legal document, family history, friends, ideals—he thinks they’re all vital to truly understanding you as a person, even if you don’t remember any of it yourself.

He’s a very romantic guy, all things considered. He especially likes to write poetry for you on any surface he can find. Usually, it’s just scrawled on a note, but sometimes you’ll find declarations of love on random walls of his temple or dispersed throughout the Divide.

He'll frequently grab your face to make you look at him. Normally, he's gentle, but every now and then he'll get a bit rougher with it.

Ulysses is one of those people who would want matching tattoos with his significant other. He doesn’t date casually and would expect you to be aiming for eternity when you get with him, and a tattoo is a perfect way to show your dedication to the relationship. Why wouldn't you want one?

A lot of his dates will be him taking you camping. You’ll both walk into a random location and set up a small shelter once it finally gets dark. He thinks it’s nice to be able to get out and experience nature and all it has to offer, especially when it’s with you.

He also likes sitting in silence with you as he reads and you do whatever you need to—tinkering, repairing, upgrading, or even reading with him—he just likes to be near you while you do it.

He likes to come up behind you, wrap his arms around you, and kiss the top of your head. He likes keeping you close and never wastes an opportunity to show you he cares.

He's really gentle with you. His voice is noticeably softer, his touches are more delicate, and he's not as pushy as he might be toward someone else. He cares about you and he's willing to do anything to keep you.

Ulysses would be very interested in settling down with you at some point. Whenever's most convenient, he's not in a rush, but one day he'd like to own a house in a stable community where the two of you can just live out the rest of your lives together.

He fixes up ED-E to be a lot more durable than he already is so that he doesn't have to worry as much when you go out on your own. Of course, he'd prefer if he was the one with you rather than the pre-war bot, but he'll make do. ED-E literally won't ever leave your side due to the way Ulysses programmed him, so no more worrying about dying out in the desert, right?

He remembers a few traditions from his past and wouldn't mind teaching you if you were interested. He'd do your hair the way his tribe did, or give you the same markings he used to wear as a child. It never fails to make a, albeit faint, smile on his face when he sees you in the things the represent his home and his history.

Ulysses almost always has you on his mind and it's hard for him to get you off of it. He's never really had anything like it up until now and he intends to make it last for as long as he can manage. There's nothing that can separate the two of you, you were bound by fate, whether you recognized it or not.

[lilisouless]

Grishaverse love stories in a Bridgerton like Au

Most images are from Pinterest, if the original person where I got them wants me to take them down I will

Kanej

-They are lady Whistledown, meaning Inej gets the secrets and Kaz publishes them , probably in order to distract the town from radical groups

-Kaz gets a deal with noble man Per Haskell , he must help Inej marry a nobleman. Part of the share would go to Per Haskell and Inej wants the rest to travel and find her family that she lost after being kidnapped.

-Kaz tries to set her up with Lord Wylan Van eck , ignoring his own feelings due to lack of noble titles and the money she needs, while Inej believes this is simply because he prefers the monetary compensation than her and she needs the money anyway

Zoyalai

-Very similar to the books,Nikolai is the heir to the Ravka crown after the death of his brother Vasily. After losing her family in a mysterious fire, Lady Zoya has lost more of her property and she is no longer a candidate to be courted. The favors lean towards princess Ehri from Shu Han or Lady Alina who was just found to be a rich heiress.

-Despite her lack of richness, Lady Zoya has a high status as the King’s confidant , it’s famously beautiful and every man wishes to be the one to conquer her cold heart,Count Kirigin has his eyes in her

-Lady Zoya’s work is to advice the king about the his best option, Lady Alina seems the safest since Princess Ehri may have inner plans ,Zoya also must help him hide his status as a born bastard. This gets complications, in an attempt to hide King Nikolai’s visit to his real father, Zoya has to twist it and makes it believe she has an affair with the king, that the letters that she burned were love letters from each other (actually The queen and Magnus Opjer’s letters)

-Zoya needs a plan, Nikolai must still marry one of the candidates so she fakes an affair that will end up with the future king dumping her for one of the girls. If she is lucky,Count Kirigin won’t be too put off by this but she is not against the idea of becoming a spinster. Complications arise when in one of their affair fake outs, their flirting scales too much and becomes a real thing.

Malina

-As said above, Alina Starkov was a worker on an orphanage, she was losing hope in her childhood friend confessing to her. One day he is enlisted in the army ,Alina decides to confess to him instead but just as she is going to his place to say her goodbyes she is forcefully taken. She finds out she is a lost heiress and it’s taken to the palace to be a candidate for the king’s hand

-At the beginning she acts uneducated to not get chosen, but one day she gets the news that Mal is nowhere to be found,presumed dead,body not found.Alina spends months in mourning, acting normal in public,making friends with the company lady Genya but crying the whole night. She eventually tries to distract herself by doing something with her fortune and spends some on her old orphanage and it’s both admired and frowned upon for “acting like a normal not noble ,woman” . She becomes a dismissive public figure,some want her to marry the king,some fear her to be a radical

-One day she is having a secret walk in the stables and find someone: her friend Mal,a deserter now. Alina needs to keep hiding Mal,who poses as a servant and visits her at night with the excuse of guarding her door,they both need to find a way to elope

[cvlutos]

TWISTED WONDERLAND: MOULIN ROUGE

WARNINGS: Dark Content | Sexual Themes | Implied Prostetution | Violence | Yandere | Etc. | Proceed with Caution Dearest. | Inspired By Lovely @elenamegan14, who I absolutely adore.

═ PROLOGUE ═

DEAREST ARISTOTLE FAMILY,

Hello Aristotle Family, I have received word that your father, James Aristotle, has passed, truly a sad day and I give you time to grieve. Yet time is money and I fear that a certain family, your family to be exact, is still quite indebted to me. I do send my condolences. Though fear not, it is not much I desire from you, dear Aristotle family.

I ask for your eldest child to be sent to NRC and aid me. You needn’t know why, but they will indeed be safe. All that the eldest needs to bring are whatever they desire. Shelter and all other needs will be provided. Within this envelope contains a special boating ticket and I do hope you do not lose this. I expect the eldest child to arrive before the end of fall.

I’ll Be Waiting,

DIRE CROWLEY

Pulling the fabric of your thick coat closer to your form, your luggage trapped between your legs as your sit on the deck of the large ship. It’s crowded, all eager to board off the boat and onto what one would consider paradise island. It’s dark and unseeable. Yet the anticipation is tastable, like fresh oranges, and you can already taste the citrus without having to bite it. We all sit in the dark, for the inside of the boat is only for the rich, nobles, and royalty. Not poor underdressed commoners. With little to their name. We are forced to be outside like dogs. The sun set hours ago, and the moon missing as if stolen from the sky. The only thing illuminating the path is the ship lights at shine onto the fog-covered ink of the ocean.

Consider yourself lucky.

A letter was sent from none other than Dire Crowley, owner of NRC. Night Raven Club or Night Raven Coterie. It rests heavy within the inside of your coat, as do the thoughts of worry and fear in what you have to do for Dire Crowley. NRC is a notoriously dangerous, yet lavish place, having been around for generations. It’s also known for draining the very pockets of men and women alike, leaving those same men and women begging for scraps along the island, begging to be able to get back into the club, like drug addicts going through withdrawals. Until the next boat arrives to take them home. Though most go kicking and screaming, dragged onto the ship. Yet the boat itself is unpredictable and unreliable. Once you’re on the island, you can’t get off, at least not easily.

People have gambled away all they have and all they are. Truly a dangerous place.

Consider yourself one in a million.

Crowley had sent you a special invitation, promising a beautiful bedroom for your stay, for as long as you carried out whatever he needed to be done. Though, this letter wasn’t for you directly, but for your family. Due to your father, a man who so desperately sold off almost everything to NRC, leaving his wife and children in ruins, and went crawling to Crowley for it all back. Your father believes Dire Crowley to be a kind man. A very kind, gracious man, that understands and is oh so forgiving. So Dire Crowley did what your father asked, gave back all that your father foolishly lost. Though not without something in exchange. Your family would forever be indebted to the man named Dire Crowley, and would do all he needed to be done when he asked. A deal could last generations if Dire Crowley so wished.

Your father has passed. Escaped the consequences of his actions, so you, as the eldest, must do what your father can’t.

Night Raven Coterie.

The Club of Twisted Imagination.

It’s a name everyone knows. A name that you either despise or worship. Like a whiskey that burns your throat when you drink it, so painful, but so good. It’s a name that lulls you into eternal sleep. That burns your skin worse than that of the bluest flames. That poisons you and kills you. That leaves you stranded in the desert with nothing but the clothes on your back. That drags you into the deepest parts of the ocean or lures you into the hungry den of lions. Or a heavy collar that restricts who you are.

With its great seven-standing beauties and the poor souls trapped within its confines. Unable to escape. Unable to ever be free.

══════ ♡ ══════

Heartslabyul.

Strictness.

Order. Order. Order. Rules. Rules. Rules. Nothing more. Nothing less. This club room is almost as twisted as the island. With 810 rules, written and posted on the walls before you enter the room that rests beyond the crimson-red door. Tables and chairs were all placed orderly, with red painted roses in the center. It’s almost like a never-ending tea party. All were directed towards a stage of checkered patterns of red and white, with heavy velvet curtains hiding the stage. Til the exact moment, exactly with the clock, do the curtains open.

The Queen’s Arrival.

Riddle Rosehearts, The Red Rose Tyrant.

Short in stature but large in presence. A boyish, arrogant look as he entertains and dances across the stage before strutting down the catwalk and onto a smaller circular stage. Closer to you. Closer to the rich and desperate people. Begging to be hit by his leather riding crop, begging for him to look down on them with a sneer. He’s alluring, sweeter than the sweetest tart, and scolding like freshly brewed tea. He’s merciless. Unforgiving. Bad-Tempered. Selfish. Spoiled. A sadist that ties sinful men and women to their chairs and punishes them. He’s cruel and all things within that room, behind that door, the door in the color of blood-painted roses, must be orderly.

══════ ♡ ══════

SavannaClaw.

Perseverance.

Wild and Free. Bathing in the coolness of the Savanna freshwater springs. It’s loud and in constant motion. It’s rowdy and not for that of fate of heart. A more hands-on experience, with colors of browns and yellows. With floral from the savanna decorating the hot and steaming room, it’s the perfect place for fights. For arguments. With no tables or chairs, most men and women find themselves staring up at the stage, bodies close and compact. Like an herd a suspecting prey. Until a sudden roar sends everyone into a frenzy.

The Roar of a King.

Leona Kingscholar, The King of Beasts.

With a cocky smirk and emerald eyes, he stalks onto the stage. Displaying nothing but power. Nothing but strength. Barely dressed with anything, yet leaves you begging for more. Pleading for the lion beastman to drag you onto stage and ravish you. He dances feverishly and leaves you stubbing out the door, or passing out amongst a wall, drenched in sweat. He’s confident, so cocky in his position as Prince. Ordering you to follow and listen, and you do. He’s the bad boy, a predator to prey. The lion hiding within the tall grass. There are no rules in the savanna. There are no rules. Once you open the burnt yellow-colored door, any and all could happen. Only pray that you survive.

══════ ♡ ══════

Octavinelle.

Benevolence.

Deep and cool within the darkest depths of the ocean. Of smooth jazz and a nightclub atmosphere. Soft lighting and candles. Many call this the Mostro Lounge, though the clubroom has its special performances. Most times, it has an average audience. A break from the other rooms of NRC’s the Great Seven, a place of twisted relaxation that comes with a price. Soft cushioned seats, all well dressed, well behaved, till the siren sound begins and comes the beauty of the depth.

The Emergence of the Sea Witch.

Azul Ashengrotto, The Deep-Sea Merchant.

Seduction at its finest. An alluring smile and charming voice, as if had eight arms that pulled you onto the stage. His moves hypnotizing as he gracefully moves across, like a fish in water. Simple, soft, seductive. Drowning in the embellishments of his voice, till you, his chosen one makes it onto stage and he dances around you. Constricts you in the tentacles in this voice, luring you into false, calm waters before the climax. A loud symphony of instruments and heat. Like the arrival of a new storm. The only thing that can save lies within a golden contract, one in which you only have to sign your name. All this lies within the deep, lies behind the lilac purple door.

══════ ♡ ══════

Scarabia.

Mindfulness.

Energetic. A party all day, every day. A truly freeing place that makes you want to do nothing but dance and jive. But to dance and spin around several unique dance partners. Or sing and listen to the various instruments, from the thrumming of drums to the strings of guitars. The smell of the sun and the taste of spice, the sound of jewelry being thrown and forgotten, till you dance and find yourself naked. Your clothing and all your money gone from you. Til none other than the diamond in the rough appears.

Like the sound of sand in an hourglass,

Kalim Al-Asim, The Cave of Wonder’s Diamond

All that is left behind disappears into the sand of the fourth room. As the sway of energetic hands and hips brings you into a hypnotizing stare, as he moves across the room, with a smile on his face. He has an innocent aura, but aside from the overly friendly touches, he doesn’t seem all that innocent. He gives you all you desire; all that you want and beg for. You’ll forgive him for all that’s stolen. With desperate hands and desperate voices, begging him to do this and to dance this way, he obeys. Like a mouse, ready to be swallowed by the snake. Greed to appease you all. All awaits you within the land of sands, behind the door of orange.

══════ ♡ ══════

Pomefiore

Tenacity.

The room of pure perfection and poison. Of dark violets and bold red. With nothing, the smell of intoxicating perfume and caramel apples that were to die for. Everything within this room is beautiful. So perfect. With little room for sitting, but all the room for an enormous stage and a special performance for those who could afford it. Not just anyone can waltz into the room of beauty, it’s come with a deadly cost, and the beauty will get what is owed.

A Poisonous smoke that chokes you.

Vil Schoenheit, The Fairest Queen.

Slow. Seductive. Like aphrodisiacs had been pumped straight into your veins as he sings. It’s hot, as have you squirm in your seat, gasping for air, for relief at any movement he makes. Any roll of his hips, the dragging of his hands, the deepness of his voice. Yet you feel tied to your sit, unable to move as he poisons your very blood. Mirrors placed all across the room, showing you your own patheticness as you watch him dance. As you lean into his tempting touch only for him to pull away and the intoxicating show to end and you must leave the room behind the door of dark purple and deep red.

══════ ♡ ══════

Ignihyde.

Diligence.

A room of technology. Yet never the main show. Don’t expect much when arriving, for the main show never seems to appear. It’s a dead room most nights, with only a few there to sit and relax in silence. Now don’t be mistaken. An audience waits on his beck and call, waiting souls for the moment he announces he desires to perform. On the nights he does, it’s packed, people upon people, pushing and shoving to get a glimpse of him.

The Cries of the Dead.

Idia Shroud, The King of the Underworld

Like cries and mourning of the King of the Dead, begging for just a small feeling of his leather boots, just to slightly touch. As he degrades his audience for being so desperate for him. Deep and brooding, hot and heavy. It’s loud and last hours before it dies down and he once again retreats. Spending most of his time entertaining his fans with calls and private appearances. Truly a costly performance. One that you will pay with your life behind the door of blue.

══════ ♡ ══════

Lastly, Diasomnia.

Nobility.

Truly a hard room to find. Only those that are deemed worthy can find the door of green and watch what happens beyond. With candles of green flames and music that feed on you, leave you drowsy. Slumping in seats, allowing whomever to do what they please with you. Though the room is classy, truly the place of nobility, as the sound of trumpets brings your attention to the stage.

The Royalty of a Dragon.

Malleus Draconia, The King of Briar Valley.

It’s stranger than most. Whether he chooses to do an alluring dance or to sing into a mic. Maybe he’ll choose to play the violin, or simply read a book. Anything he chooses to do with being done gracefully. And be completely unforgettable. Treating each of his guests like royalty, treating each of them like prized treasure in his cave. He’s loving, yet so fierce. Yet not a sight for just anyone. You must be lucky. Special. One in a Million to find the door of green and push past painful thorns.

══════ ♡ ══════

Prepare yourself, [Name] [Surname] of the Aristotle Family.

ⓒ 2023 love-thanatopsis — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited

[rainbowmoonstonestories]

Why The Caged Bird Sings | Chapter 3

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: One Piece (Liveaction) Rating: Explicit Relationships Vinsmoke Sanji x F!Reader Characters: Vinsmoke Sanji, Patty, Red Leg Zeff, Original Characters, Strawhat crew. Warnings: 18+ content (minors DNI), explicit sexual content, minor POV switching. Summary: One night, you were brought to the luxurious Baratie Restaurant Ship, renowned for its exceptional cuisine that your family had been intrigued to sample. A particular blond and comely waiter captured your attention with his charming smile and gentle eyes, but while your beauty and sophistication intrigued him, Sanji also observed the profound nervousness that caused your jaw and body muscles to tense whenever your fiancé made contact with your hand or your parents delivered a humiliating criticism towards you. One dinner at the Baratie soon turned into a recurring event, and then more. As your friendship with Sanji slowly evolved into something that burned from within, you strove to make your longstanding dream come true; freeing yourself from a constricting existence. ------------------------- As Sanji looked at you curiously, the gentle smile never leaving his face, you asked him, "Do you know why the caged bird sings?" He thought about it for a moment before answering, "Because it has a song to give?" You chuckled at his response and shook your head. "You're not entirely wrong, but no."

Divider by firefly-graphics

Feel free to read this on AO3 if it is more comfortable for you due to its length. I only ask to support me with a like and reblog if you enjoy my work. ☺️

Note: This chapter took me some time because I wanted it to be just right, being focused on the forming bond between Sanji and the Reader before the next part. I do not plan to make a long story out of this, but the chapters might all be quite big and detailed.

Over the next hour, you wrestled with your pounding heart, striving to push away the notion of remaining on the Baratie ship till the next day. Sanji, with an air of casualness, mentioned that a room was already set and ready for your use, extending the offer without a hint of complication.

When Sanji inquired if you wished for him to accompany you, you swiftly declined, asserting that you weren't weary enough to call it a night yet. Instead, you proposed to enjoy a rejuvenating drink at the bar, an idea to which Sanji cheerfully concurred, flashing one of his charming (and irresistible) smiles.

The sky was captivating, filled with infinite stars that seemed too numerous to count. The evening air was cool against your skin, but there was a noticeable uptick in humidity. The lounge area inside the fish's mouth was near deserted, with only a handful of patrons left, lost in their intoxication and slumped over the bar counter.

Sanji escorted you to the round grouping of couches situated against the mouth of the ship, skillfully uncorking a bottle of blueberry-lemonade rum. You had never considered yourself much of a drinker, rarely finding pleasure in the taste of alcohol and turning to it only when your emotions plunged into a pit of despair. However, given the heightened stress you had endured that night and your present state of restlessness, you felt that a touch of rum was more than justified.

You found comfort in the enveloping silence as you both settled on the couch, close enough to feel the heat radiating from each other. The alcohol successfully soothed your mind and, even though your heart continued to flutter in response to his aroma permeating your senses, you felt more serene and less tense.

You looked up, gently pressing your lips against the glass, and found yourself spellbound by the immense, dark blue spectacle stretching out before your eyes.

"This feels good," you commented aloud. "I can't recall the last time I took a moment for myself.”

Sanji gazed at you, his smile never fading. "A beautiful woman like you should be pampered all day.”

With your head nestled against the back of the couch, you subtly turned your neck to face him. His smile broadened even further in response, and after a fleeting moment of thought, you broke into a tender chuckle. Sanji chimed in, his shoulders easing as he swirled his glass in his hand.

"You certainly have a way with words when it comes to charming a lady, don't you?" you asked playfully.

"And you haven't seen the best of me yet," he replied with a wink.

Raising an eyebrow, you moved to the side, supporting yourself with your elbow on the couch. "A man of great confidence, I see.”

He snickered, adjusting his position and tilting his head slightly. "That marine was clueless about the treasure he possessed," he remarked.

You couldn't keep track of the number of times your heart had skipped a beat in his presence.

Casting your eyes downward, a blush of embarrassment mixed with appreciation tinged your cheeks. "I'm no treasure, Sanji. I'm merely a woman who's been treated like a puppet for far too long. And I let that happen without putting up any fight," you confessed.

"I wouldn't call your actions tonight 'any fight',” he declared.

You tightened your lips together. "It certainly took me quite a while, didn't it?”

"I'm not in a position to judge. And I would never do that to you.”

Your eyes shimmered, a warmth akin to molten honey spread throughout your chest, and a swarm of butterflies fluttered in your belly.

"Honestly, the things you say... they might be the kindest words I’ve ever heard.”

His expression mellowed, transforming into one of sorrow. "How could anyone be cruel to someone like you?”

"You should ask that to my family.”

"I witnessed enough two weeks ago.”

"Right. My father put on quite a show, didn't he?”

"He wasn’t as bad as your fiancé.”

You shuddered. "I really detest that word. I mean, he wasn't exactly my fiancé. Not in my eyes.”

"Not in mine either.”

At that, you laughed once more, and unconsciously, you found yourself inching even closer to the cook.

"Thank you for what you did. Seeing him getting a good kick in the butt for once was absolutely priceless.”

Sanji took a deep breath, exhaling slowly and stretching his arm out to set the half-drunk glass on the table in front of the couch. “I can’t deny that I enjoyed it.”

"Oh, you were certainly invested in it. Your moves were rather impressive.”

He allowed himself to sink back onto the softness of the seat, staring at his hands as he began to absentmindedly fiddle with his ring.

"I couldn't bear to watch him hit and threaten you as he did," he said, his jaw tightening at the memory.

You responded with a sincere smile. "He was known for having an anger problem, but... well.”

Sanji's attention moved to your cheek, and you had to exert control over your reactions as he gently swept his thumb across your skin to inspect it.

"Is it causing pain?”

As his finger traced the irritated spot, all you felt was a comforting caress.

“No, it isn’t.”

"The swelling has gone down.”

"Thankfully you happened to have that salmon available.”

It was quite astonishing to see how both of you couldn't contain your laughter while conversing with each other. When he drew back, the absence of his touch left you feeling instantly hollow. Something in his mouth reflected the soft glow of the lanterns, causing you to notice he might have a piercing situated just beneath his tongue.

When you noticed that you were zoning out as your thoughts momentarily derailed, you cleared your throat and shifted your focus back to the stars. Sanji stayed quiet, a satisfied look on his face as he turned his gaze skyward. From his pocket, he retrieved a cigarette and a lighter, sparking it into life and savoring the nicotine-filled inhalation. As he breathed out, a cloud of smoke ascended, dissipating gradually into the darkened atmosphere.

Remaining there, in silence, with a man you were just getting to know yet felt inexplicably at ease with, you discovered the therapeutic potential of simply sitting in good company. Sanji was chivalrous, respectful, affable, and empathetic. His flirting occasionally teetered on the edge of being excessive, yet his attentions, though most likely extended to the opposite sex in general, didn't bother you in the slightest.

With your drink now fully consumed, your eyelids started to droop. His voice, calling out your name, seemed distant as you found yourself slowly giving in to the lull of sleep right in your current spot.

"Y/N," he gently repeated. "Come on, beautiful, you can’t keep your eyes open.”

"Mh..? What? Oh." After a moment of disorientation, you rubbed your temple and sat up straight, all while he took the glass from your hand, placed it next to his own on the table, and rose to his feet.

When he offered his hand to you, you accepted it, allowing him to aid you in standing up. His closeness made you feel self-aware, especially considering how his lips were now mere inches from your forehead.

"I'll take you to your room.”

You nodded, mirroring his movements as he pivoted and headed towards the entrance. His steps were unhurried and confident, and all you could do was marvel once more at the outline of his broad shoulders and expansive back.

The Baratie was practically empty, and you trailed behind him through the dining hall, along a corridor, and up a flight of wooden stairs. There was an incredibly calming quality to the sounds produced by the ship, as the planks creaked in a gentle rhythm.

Upon arriving at your destination, Sanji pushed open the door and ushered you into a cozy cabin. As he lit the lantern situated on the bedside table, your eyes began to sweep across the room, absorbing the diverse array of objects. The cabin was neat and orderly, with maps, and notes decorating the table positioned beneath the window. You could discern a few cookbooks, an ashtray, and a packet of cigarettes that looked very familiar.

In that moment, it dawned on you that the room he was offering wasn't just a spare one kept for potential guests or new recruits. The cabin had an overwhelming sense of him, exuding an immediate assurance that it was indeed his personal space.

"Wait, Sanji.”

When you pivoted on your heels to face him, you caught the slightly bashful expression on his face. "Apologies, love. The other cabins are currently being used for storage.”

"I see... but-"

"This one is yours for the night."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "What about you?”

"Don't worry about me, I'll manage.”

"Sanji, no," you moved a step closer, gently touching his forearm. "I can't inconvenience you further after everything you've done for me.”

"Nah, you're not an inconvenience at all. Besides, I can't let you sleep on the kitchen floor.”

"I could sleep on the couch outside. It's comfortable enough," you suggested.

"I can't allow you to do that.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but found yourself at a loss for words. His disarming smile made it impossible for you to decline his offer. The orange hue emanating from the lantern cast a spectacular light against his perfect jaw.

"I guess I owe you another one.”

"You don't owe me anything.”

"Yes, I do.”

He chuckled softly under his breath, glancing downward and swallowing subtly in response to the sudden intimacy.

"Good night, Y/N," he said, pulling away from you and reaching for the door handle.

You wished you could have said more, but a lump in your throat held back your words. "Good night, Sanji," was all you could master.

As he stepped out of the cabin, carefully closing the door behind him, you released a long, deep breath you hadn't realized you had been holding.

Another man might have exploited such a situation. You were there, alone with him, nowhere else but in his very own quarters. He had saved you from Christopher's onslaught, cooked a delectable meal for you, and even relinquished his bed for your convenience. Given your insistence on repaying him, there was just one thing he could have requested from you.

Because, as a matter of fact, that's what they all wanted.

Everyone, except for him.

For a fleeting moment, you contemplated whether you should have allowed him to stay.

Despite your extreme fatigue, sleep seemed elusive. Perhaps it was the knowledge that you were in Sanji's bed, coupled with the realization that he was spending the night elsewhere, stripped of his usual comforts because of you. Alternatively, it might have been the fear of what awaited you upon your return home, grappling with the reality that, sooner or later, you would have to confront the repercussions of your defiance.

When you awoke, dawn had already bathed the ship in its golden hues. The makeup around your eyes felt uncomfortably dry, and you were eager to shed your current attire in favor of something more fitting. With a reluctant push, you forced yourself to sit up, attempting to tame your bed hair with your fingers and smooth out the creases in your dress. You voiced a grunt of disapproval, regarding the heels positioned in front of the bed with a look of distaste.

You abandoned the comfort of the mattress and traversed the lukewarm floor barefoot, your vision trained on the ocean beyond as you squinted against the intense sunlight. Not far away, you noticed a small ship that was immediately recognizable, and a smile played on your lips as you watched it sail closer to the Baratie. Mari and the others had arrived.

Immediately, you ensured the bed was neatly made, quickly slipped into your shoes, and hurried towards the door. Carefully avoiding any missteps, you descended the staircase, retracing your path from the previous night in reverse. You entered the serene dining hall, with the sounds of chopping and boiling echoing from the kitchen. Sanji was notably absent, and although seeing his face first thing in the morning would have been pleasant, the discomfort of wearing the same clothes from the previous day was too bothersome to disregard.

As you stepped outside, the sea-salted air filled your lungs. A shroud of morning fog masked the horizon, but the outline of your friends' ship, now almost docked, remained visible.

When the ship came to a standstill, Mari surfaced from the lower deck, her face lighting up. She agilely hopped down, dashing towards you with her arms outstretched. You had to brace yourself as she crashed into you, wrapping your shoulders in a firm embrace.

"Y/N! I'm so incredibly proud of you!”

You laughed in surprise, "Come on, I didn't really do that much.”

"Are you kidding me?" She retorted, "You finally managed to get rid of Nutty after all this time.”

"But it's not over yet.”

"Yes, it is. Because I won't let you get near him ever again.”

With a sigh, a wave of gratitude washed over you for her unfaltering support and protection. Marlo, Rory, and Rubio also made their appearance, waving at you from the bow of the ship.

"I brought you some clothes. I can't stand seeing you in that skimpy dress and those stilettos. How do you even manage to walk?”

You grinned. "You eventually get used to it. But, I admit my feet are really aching now.”

Mari made a sound of disgust, seizing your hand and pulling you aboard their vessel. “Honestly, what would you even do without me?”

“I’d be lost as hell.”

Her determination over the smallest details was both amusing and inspiring. She behaved like a true bodyguard, prepared to confront anything that might obstruct your path.

The moment you set foot onto the main deck, Rubio engulfed you in a bone-crushing hug, Rory clapped her hands in celebration of your successful outcome, and Marlo gave you such a hearty pat on the shoulder that it almost sent you teetering to the other side. Damn him for being a muscular giant.

The affection they demonstrated was something you would cherish for the rest of your life.

"I hate to come off as a freeloader, but would you guys mind if I take a quick bath? I feel like all the food they cooked in there has seeped into me.”

"Ah, so you are the source of this delightful steak aroma," Marlo observed, rubbing his stomach in anticipation and punctuating it with a suggestive lick of his lips.

“Screw you.”

As their jubilant cries reverberated through the ship, you maneuvered your way to the wooden tub, shaking your head in amusement.

The area designated for personal hygiene was quite compact, with a modest collection of rugs and towels, meticulously folded and stacked on a stool. While the tub could only accommodate one person at a time, it proved ample for washing away the sea salt and lingering kitchen odors from your skin. As amazing as the Baratie's cooking was, carrying its scent was not part of your agenda.

You let the dress drop onto the floor before unceremoniously tossing it into your personal clothes box. You picked out one of the outfits that Mari had discreetly tucked away in your hidden storage, preparing it and setting it aside for later use. Evidently, Mari had anticipated your needs and had already filled the tub for you with suitably warmed water. None of your friends expressed any complain, giving you the freedom to luxuriate in it for as long as you desired.

And so, you took your time, employing a coarse sponge to scrub away any lingering traces of oil and food that might have resulted from Christopher's tumultuous outburst. The warmth enveloping your body was comforting, and the entire room was now filled with steam.

The moment you slipped into your trousers, a sigh of relief escaped your lips. The comfort of casual daily wear far surpassed that of any sophisticated dress and high-heeled shoes. Even your hair boasted a different style now, and the shirt you opted for allowed for better movement. The leather jacket added that touch of edginess you were seeking - a look your family would never wish to see on you.

When you finally converged with your friends in the kitchen cabin, they were astonished at how distinct, yet improved, you looked in your characteristic appearance. Feeling rejuvenated and more comfortable with yourself, you settled into a seat and accepted the cup of coffee they had set aside for you.

Mari didn’t waste any time and immediately inquired about the juicy details of your night at the Baratie, as well as how things with your now ex-fiancé took such a dramatic turn. By the end of your tale, Marlo was laughing so hard that he was brought to tears at the mental picture of Christopher being forcefully kicked by a waiter (not a waiter - a cook, you corrected him), while Rory squealed in excitement. Rubio conveyed his deepest solidarity concerning your immediate refusal, but Mari was staring at you in total disbelief.

"Wait, Y/N. Please tell me you didn't do it,” she said.

"Huh? Didn't do what? You already knew that I rejected him.”

She shook her head. "That's not what I meant.”

"What did you mean, then?”

She scoffed. "Did you seriously spend the night into that cook’s bed… without inviting him to stay with you? For real?”

You raised an eyebrow. "Mari, don't go there.”

"Oh, come on! After all he's done for you, you didn't even give him a kiss? If I were in your place, I would have certainly made a move, straight to his d-”

“Mari!”

A collective bout of laughter erupted once again, and you facepalmed so hard that you nearly struck yourself in the process.

"What's wrong with that? How long has it been since you last hooked up with a decent man?”

You rolled your eyes. "Too long ago to remember. And I don't think it was with anyone decent.”

"She has a point," Marlo chimed in. "He was such a skinny loser."

"Pretty sure that wasn't the reason why I dumped him," you clarified. "Stop thinking like the muscular beast that you are."

He responded with a toothy grin, playfully flaunting the size of his bicep.

"Seriously though, I'm impressed he didn't actually try to sleep with you," Mari persisted. "And from what you've told us about this Sanji, I believe you might have stumbled upon a rare gem this time.”

"Isn't he just toying around, though?" Rory inquired. "He's a gentleman alright, but what if he does this with every attractive lady he comes across?”

"Without even trying to put his hands on her? No, it's clear he took her situation to heart," Mari concluded. "He kicked her fiancé in the butt without hesitation, in his own workplace.”

"Well, either way, all this talk about him just made me want to meet the guy in person," Marlo declared.

"Oh, I agree," Rory interjected.

“Good thing we don't have to wait for that.”

Confused, you turned to Mari again, giving her a questioning look.

"Oh, didn't I tell you? Oopsie.”

Judging by her joyful expression, you realized that she was scheming something behind your back. “Mari. What are you talking about?”

A grin of absolute satisfaction spread across her face. "You see, we managed to book a table for brunch today.”

“…at the Baratie.”

“Yes, at the Baratie. Where else?”

Silence descended upon the room as you blinked a few times. “Wait. That must be a joke. There’s no way you could find a spot so easily.”

Mari proudly flicked her red hair off her shoulder. "Y/N, who do you think you're talking to? You know I have means to get what I want.”

Your jaw dropped in utter disbelief.

"Don't ask her. Not even we know the details," Marlo whispered into your ear, stifling another fit of laughter at your reaction.

Eventually, you let it go, as arguing with someone like Mari was as futile as trying to converse with a wall.

"You guys are insane.”

Rory stood up, darting towards you and wrapping her arms around your neck, pressing her warm cheek against yours. "And you love us this way!”

Indeed, you absolutely wouldn't have them any differently.

Entering the Baratie was becoming a routine for you. The grandeur of its elegant dining room, with its polished aesthetics and sophisticated ambiance, was now incredibly familiar. The tantalizing aroma wafting from the kitchen had become a sensory marker you eagerly anticipated. Even seeing the fishman's face at the entrance had become a delightful and comforting sight.

Brunch time was as bustling as dinner typically was. The number of people flocking to the floating restaurant was astounding, with an influx of ships docking alongside your friends', seemingly materializing out of nowhere. The fact that Mari secured a reservation so quickly was still a shock to you, but you chose to heed Marlo's advice and simply savour the good fortune you had received.

As you were led to your table, your eyes inadvertently drifted to a corner adjacent to the kitchen. The blonde cook was right there, and his mere presence in your peripheral sight was enough to cause your heart to flutter.

Caught in a moment of starstruck awe, you remained rooted to the spot in the middle of the dining room, motionless as your friends continued ahead.

"Y/N, what's the hold-up?" Mari questioned, halting halfway.

Barely shifting your gaze towards her, you raised your hand in acknowledgment. "Sorry, I'll join you in a moment.”

You then turned and walked away, striding purposefully towards Sanji. He appeared to be engrossed in folding napkins and arranging food and drinks on a silver tray, dressed in his chef's uniform and casually flicking his hair away from his face with a slight toss of his head.

It didn't take long for him to notice you. The moment his gaze locked with yours, his face lit up, and the smile you cherished so much spread widely across his lips.

"Hey you," you greeted him, mirroring his joy with equal fervor.

"Hey! I'm surprised to see you're still here. You look... different," he commented, appraising you from head to toe. "Undeniably gorgeous.”

You grinned in response, by now accustomed to his compliments and playful flirtations, but still appreciating every bit of it. "Between you and me, I don't usually like wearing dresses. This is the real me.”

"Honestly, sweetheart, you could even wear a bag and still look beautiful in it.”

You let out a laugh. "Oh, stop it. I wanted to thank you for letting me stay in your room. I hope I didn't inconvenience you to the extent of sleeping somewhere uncomfortable.”

“I managed just fine. And you’re very welcome.”

For an instant, it seemed as though the atmosphere around you had charged with electricity. An unbroken silence descended upon the two of you as your eyes stayed intertwined. There was something extraordinary about Sanji, something more profound than mere attraction towards the opposite sex. You noticed the passion in his mannerisms when he had prepared a meal for you the previous night, and the tangible rage etched on his features when Christopher posed a threat to you. His talks about Zeff and the hurdles he was encountering, the mournful twinkle you spotted in his eyes when he confessed that standing up to the man was a complex ordeal.

Sanji was more than just a good-looking cook playing the role of Prince Charming. The more you observed him, the stronger grew your desire to unravel his enigma.

The booming voice of Mari, beckoning you from the table, abruptly pulled you back to the present moment. As you pivoted, you caught sight of your friends watching you, their faces illuminated with wide grins of satisfaction.

"Are you with them?" Sanji inquired.

"Yes, they're here to pick me up. My friend over there somehow reserved a table without even informing me. I have no idea how she pulled it off.”

Sanji let out a chuckle. "Well, it seems that you're in good hands today.”

"I am. Uhm... I should go join them now. Will we meet again later?”

You didn't want to seem excessively clingy, but the moment you voiced that question, a part of you plummeted into a pit of embarrassment.

Yet, your words only served to widen his smile even more. "Absolutely, sweetheart.”

As you nodded and retreated a step, you were convinced that your cheeks were flaming. You observed him lift the tray and take it to the closest table, all the while you ambled away, caught up in your whimsical thoughts.

The moment you sat down, you immediately sensed four pairs of piercing eyes fixated on you.

"Okay, I have to admit it," Mari started, "That guy is attractive as fuck.”

“He’s definitely a handsome one, good shot Y/N!” Rory exclaimed.

"More handsome than me?" Marlo queried, "Come on, I'm way more appealing than him.”

"Oh, don't be jealous now. Of course, you're the best.”

Marlo wasn't entirely convinced, but he draped a muscular arm around Rory’s shoulder, wearing a smug expression.

"I mean, as a man, I can't exactly be objective about his appearance,” Rubio started, "But he was practically devouring you with his eyes alone.”

You cleared your throat. "Was he really?”

"Honestly, Y/N, how clueless can you get?” Mari groaned. “That cook would be all over you if he could.”

"That's not true.”

"Actually, my dear, she's quite right," Marlo chimed in.

“Guys, seriously! You've barely seen him for two minutes from here. He’s not like that.”

"Yeah, what sets him apart at least, is that he seems to respect your boundaries.”

Rory, Marlo, and Rubio all nodded in unison.

You sighed. "Whatever. Can we change the topic, please?”

"Oh wow, look at how flushed your face is!”

"Awww, how adorable. Our dear Y/N has a crush.”

"Shhh, lower your voices!”

When they burst into another round of snickers, you shook your head, suppressing a smirk that was beginning to form. It was extraordinary how different and comfortable you felt with them, compared to the other times you had found yourself in that very same room. Just the night before, you had been wishing to escape as soon as you arrived, and now, you desired nothing more than to spend the rest of the day with your friends, savoring the most delectable cuisine that could be found in all of East Blue (and perhaps, in the entire world).

If anything, this only solidified that you were perilously close to completely upending your life, and the prospect of returning home invoked the most dreadful sense of fear you could ever experience.

You all ate to such an extent that you felt on the verge of bursting. Rory was almost moved to tears, thrilled by the outstanding cuisine, while Marlo consumed everything he had ordered with astonishing eagerness. Rubio was making a determined effort to relish his dessert, wishing it would never end, while Mari was so delighted with her meal that she would have licked her plate clean if it wasn't considered as such an indiscretion.

Throughout your brunch, Sanji had surfaced at your table, meticulously detailing each dish with commendable sentiment. Rory and Mari, both remarkably beautiful, didn't elude the cook's attention, and he lavished them with a cascade of compliments and charming banter. However, the exchange of smiles and whispered words between you and Sanji seemed to single you out, making you feel distinctively special. At one juncture, he slipped out of the kitchen with a dish he didn't want Zeff to see, placing it before you with a gentle touch on your shoulder as he whispered into your ear. You blushed continuously for ten minutes when your friends began to tease you affectionately about the gesture.

As lunchtime passed and the early afternoon sun began to shift its position, the dining room slowly started to empty. You could hear the music emanating from the bar outside, coupled with the increasing volume of your friends' voices echoing throughout the space. The tranquility of the instance felt entirely dreamlike, a stark contrast to the habitual family turmoil and incessant demands you were accustomed to.

You had been seated there for a few hours, yet, there was not a single moment where you felt an urge to leave the table.

Only when your stomachs were satiated and your meals entirely consumed, did your friends place the necessary quantity of Berries on the silver tray accompanying the bill. You had proposed to reimburse them later with the funds from your private storage, but they remained unyielding in their decision to indulge you.

You were so immersed in your complaint, that Mari's exit from the group escaped your attention. Only upon sensing her missing presence beside you, did you scan the surroundings in an attempt to locate your friend. The instant you did, all color drained from your face.

"Guys...? What is she up to?”

Marlo was already breaking into muted chuckles, while Rory dismissed it nonchalantly with a wave of her hand. Rubio slung an arm around your shoulder as your attention fixated on Mari, who was engaging in a cheerful conversation with none other than Sanji himself, who had emerged from the kitchen to gather the settled bills.

You managed to hear Mari expressing her gratitude aloud before she spun on her heels and returned, and you scarcely registered Sanji's smile aimed in your direction when she did.

"Mari," your voice came out stern and low. "What was that?”

"Relax! I was merely engaging his services for the day.”

"Wait, you did what?”

"Considering it will take us a while to return, I thought we could take advantage of his culinary expertise. Nothing overly extravagant, just a packed dinner for our journey.”

“Oh, you’re brilliant!”

“Indeed, good thinking Mari!”

You rubbed your temple, taking deep breaths to soothe your frayed nerves. Given the amount of food your group consumed, it seemed highly unlikely that any of you would feel sufficiently hungry to partake in dinner by day's end. Mari's move was merely a pretext to invite Sanji aboard their ship, observe him closely and, without a doubt, provide an opportunity for you to spend additional time with him away from his usual environment.

"Did he agree?" You asked her.

“Oh yes.”

Well, shit.

You were torn between feeling grateful, or extremely anxious. The mere notion of having him so near to you and your soul family, without Zeff, Patty, or any other colleague on standby to yank him away, caused your entire face to be flushed with a deep shade of crimson once more.

Yet, deep within, your mind was silently shrieking with exhilaration.

As you waited for Sanji aboard your friends' ship, your heart was racing so fast that you felt like a teenager on her first date. Even though it wasn't intended to be a private encounter between the two of you, with Mari and the others around, you knew that privacy was not an option anyway.

And yet, the anticipation was killing you.

Upon Sanji's arrival, it came to your attention that he had discarded his chef's uniform, not even opting for his signature black jacket. The sight of his button-down shirt, tightly embracing his upper body, and the visible flex of his lower arm muscles as he lugged kitchen supplies and utensils, only intensified your emotional unrest.

Mari led him to the stove, and without hesitation, he settled in, rolling his sleeves up even further. Rubio, who had recently taken a fond interest in cooking, attempted to glean some useful instructions from the chef. Despite his playful refusal to reveal his culinary secrets, Sanji still provided a few practical pointers that your friend eagerly jotted down.

A smile found its way onto your face as you relaxed your shoulders and comfortably leaned against the dining table. Your smile wasn't particularly intended for Sanji, yet the moment he caught sight of it, he responded with a radiant grin of his own, one that became increasingly endearing to you with each passing moment.

Clearing your throat, you approached him, fully aware of your friends' attentive eyes watching your every move. "Can I assist you with anything?”

"Don't worry, sweetheart. You're not expected to do the work.”

You shook your head. "Still, please. Let me help you.”

"Yes, she's quite good actually. She's been dedicating a lot of time to practice.”

You shot Marlo a stern look, silently urging him to drop the subject. Unfortunately, your friends showed no signs of letting up.

"Oh right, she did! If you two join forces, I have no doubt it's going to result in the best dinner we've ever had!”

Rory's enthusiasm was so overwhelming that you almost felt the urge to scream and bolt. Sanji regarded you with a curious expression and a raised eyebrow, a look you quickly tried to dismiss. "It's not like that. I was forced to... I mean.... just, may I?”

Recognizing your growing desperation, Sanji didn't have the heart to turn you down.

"All right, love. Could you chop the carrots for me?”

Somewhat shyly, you nodded, washing your hands and picking up the knife from the table. Mari's barely suppressed giggle could be heard, and she met your playfully threatening glare with an innocent look.

"So, Sanji. How long have you been a cook?" Rubio asked, watching as you began to slice the vegetable.

His voice echoed with delight and pride as he replied, "I've been training since I was a child.”

"Impressive. It runs in your blood, then. Can you cook, like, anything?”

“I can make anything.”

“Now I’m jealous!”

The atmosphere became noticeably lighter and more carefree. Your friends were at ease, engaging in leisurely conversation and warmly interacting with the man who had clearly piqued your interest. The more you collaborated with the cook, the more your deep, meaningful glances with him became frequent.

Convinced that it was best to leave the two of you to your own tasks, Mari stood up and stretched her arms. "I believe it's time for a little rest. I've eaten so much that I'm starting to feel drowsy. What do you say, guys? Shall we let them finish the preparations?”

Immediately catching on, they all nodded in agreement and vacated their seats with lightning speed.

"Looks like the kitchen is in capable hands, catch you later," Marlo announced as he departed, throwing you a playful wink.

As they all withdrew, an awkward silence seemed to descend upon you, punctuated only by the rhythmic sound of a knife chopping and water boiling. Alone with Sanji again, you could feel the warmth radiating from his shoulder, so close to yours that they were almost touching.

Swallowing nervously, you apologized, "I'm sorry for their behavior. I hope they didn't make you feel uncomfortable.”

"Not at all. They seem like nice people.”

You allowed the freshly cut carrots to tumble into the simmering pot. "They truly are. I honestly don't know what I'd do without them.”

"You seem happier when you're with them," he observed.

"I am. We've been together since our childhood days. My parents never really approved of them, so I always had to come up with an excuse to sneak out and meet them.”

Your hand grazed against his as you handed him the ladle.

"Life hasn't been easy for you, has it?”

"No, not really.”

You watched him with admiration as he skillfully stirred the contents in the pot. The tantalizing aroma of the stew wafted up, tickling your nostrils and igniting your appetite once again.

"So, what's this about you training in cooking?" He inquired.

“It’s not what you think,” you replied, a chuckle escaping your lips. "My family wanted me to become the ideal wife, so they sort of nudged me into the kitchen to prepare meals suitable for a husband. I like cooking, but my skills are quite avarage, really.”

“You’re actually doing well.”

"All I'm doing is chopping vegetables, sprinkling some seasoning, and staring as you do all the heavy lifting.”

Your attention was more drawn to his arms and hands for entirely different reasons, but that was a piece of information he didn't need to know.

"It's not every day I get the opportunity to cook alongside a woman as pretty and intelligent as you.”

It was difficult to hold back your blush.

"I'm not that clever. If I were, I wouldn't have ended up here with that guy in the first place.”

Sanji's smile faltered only for a fleeting moment, before returning just as bright as before. "You certainly didn't deserve any of that, but… I'm glad it led to our paths crossing.”

In that moment, your mind was swarming with doubts and questions. Did he extend this level of kindness to any attractive woman he encountered at the Baratie? Were you developing feelings for the wrong man, someone who showered you with compliments while possibly having a multitude of women waiting in the wings?

The more you mulled it over, the less fearful you became as your impressions of him persisted. Could someone as gentle and courteous as he seemingly was, be the flirtatious player as Rory had insinuated?

Admittedly, your limited experience wasn't much to draw from, especially considering the sparse past relationships you had managed to keep concealed from your family. And yet, in Sanji's presence, you felt a sense of freedom and security that not even Mari and the others could provide.

"It might seem like an obvious thing to say, but I'm glad too.”

Underneath his hair, you could see his lips curling into a confident grin. And before you could utter another word, he turned towards you, a spoon filled with warm stew in his hand, gently pressing it against your lips.

"Would you mind tasting this for me, beautiful? It might be a bit hot, so be careful.”

Using the counter for support as your knees seemed to weaken, you held one hand under the spoon and gently blew on it to cool the meat down. The moment you brought your lips to it and allowed the stew to slide into your mouth, it instantly melted on your tongue, causing your taste buds to burst with joy.

"Oh, wow," you exclaimed. "This is delicious. But honestly, everything you make is perfect.”

"I had a good assistant.”

"You did most of it.”

"You have a precise knack for chopping, an acute sense of smell, and an excellent eye for seasoning. You're more talented than you give yourself credit for.”

You shrugged. "I never considered it to be something praise-worthy, but thank you.”

With the stew fully prepared, Sanji ladled generous portions into different bowls, sealing them with tinfoil to retain their warmth and prevent any foreign substances from contaminating the food. Between moments of laughter and diverse talks that allowed you to get to know each other a little better, you spent the afternoon preparing a variety of dishes, ranging from your friends' favorites to some of his specialties. By the time you finished, you estimated there would be enough food to last even through the next day, if not longer.

YYou had never experienced this much joy while preparing a meal before.

As you cleaned your hands with a towel, you looked at him with uncertainty, feeling a question bubbling up within you but hesitant to put it into words. Finally, having settled down next to him with a glass of water, you decided to take a leap of faith and speak your mind.

"Hey Sanji, can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything you want,” he responded gently.

"So, I assure you I didn't rummage through your things, but I couldn't help noticing a few notes and maps on your desk. This place, the Baratie, it's not really where you want to be, is it?”

While his smile didn't fade, it was evident that your question had struck a chord.

"I'm sorry, you don't have to answer tha-”

"Have you ever heard of the All Blue?”

His question took you by surprise, but as it was a name you faintly recognized, it still had you deep in thought. No, it wasn't new at all. You were absolutely certain that you had come across it at some point. Perhaps it was mentioned in a story during one of your tedious dinners with Marines and notable figures. Or maybe it was something you found in a novel of some sort.

You searched your memory until something finally clicked. "I think I have. Isn't it a sea of legend, said to be the only place in the world where the North Blue, South Blue, East Blue, and West Blue seas intersect?”

Sanji looked at you with a surprised, yet pleased look.

You chuckled. "Yeah, I’m a bookworm.”

"Beautiful, intelligent, and impressively well-informed.”

"Oh, come on, really. Is this All Blue what you're searching for?”

Sanji's face turned solemn, tinged with a melancholic air. "There are fish from each of the four seas. It’s the ultimate dream of every chef.”

You nodded understandingly. "I can see why.”

"The All Blue is rumored to be located somewhere in the Grand Line. Yet, no one has ever found it.”

"And you believe it's not real?”

Sanji lifted his eyes from the table. "What about you?”

You didn't need to think it over. "I don't see why it shouldn't be. Whether it's legendary or not, the fact that it's known suggests there's some element of truth to it.”

Once again, his lips widened into the most beautiful of smiles, leaving you momentarily breathless.

"I know it's real. It has to be.”

"So... are you planning on setting out soon?”

Sanji let out a heavy sigh. "No.”

"But... I don't understand. I thought you wanted to find it?”

"I have responsibilities here, sweetheart. I can't just abandon Zeff.”

Your hands came together on the table. "So this is what you were referring to when you mentioned things were complicated?”

"Yeah.”

Despite your belief that he had every right to pursue the All Blue, you held back voicing your opinion on the matter. After all, you knew very little about his relationship with Zeff, and the fact that he was willing to sacrifice his dream for this man suggested their bond was far deeper than you initially perceived.

As if sensing your internal deliberation, Sanji continued speaking.

"He saved me, Y/N. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for him. I owe him my life.”

As he delved deeper into the story, and as much as you wished to know more, his explanation was enough for you to fully grasp his standpoint.

"And you?”

“Me?”

“Is there anything that you want to do?”

In that moment, you knew that he was asking about your dreams, wondering if you had one so intense that you'd consider setting sail into the open sea.

For the first time, as no one had ever asked you such a question, you found yourself at a loss.

"I'm not really sure," you replied. "The only thing I've ever wanted was to break free from the strict rules and impositions of my family. I've never really paused to consider what else could be out there for me.”

"I would call that a dream. One that you've just managed to fulfill.”

"Not really, no.” You absentmindedly fiddled with your fingers. "Perhaps in part, but there's still so much left to do. I'll never truly be free as long as they continue to expect my return.”

Sanji seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then he nudged his chair a bit closer to you, just enough to be able to place his hand on yours.

"Then don't.”

Without any hint of embarrassment, you affectionately squeezed his wrist. "I have to. Otherwise, I'll just be hiding, and that's not what I want. I need closure.”

He pursed his lips together, nodding in silence, but maintaining his comforting grip on you. His touch was gentle yet firm, so incredibly grounding that you wished it could last forever.

Sadly, as the kitchen door swung open, you had to abruptly pull back and move slightly further from him.

"How's it going, guys? This room smells heavenly!”

You glanced down and ran your fingers across your forehead, while Sanji subtly cleared his throat into his hand. Mari looked at you, her smile broad and knowing, her eyebrows raised so high they seemed to touch the sky.

"It's all ready," Sanji responded, his voice slightly hoarse.

Unable to resist, Marlo immediately approached the covered stew, peeling back part of the tinfoil to take in its scent. "Holy cow, man. You're incredible.”

"Y/N deserves just as much praise.”

"Oh, I'm sure," Mari said, draping her arms around your shoulders from behind and squeezing a bit too tightly for comfort. "I want the deets later," she whispered into your ear.

Rubio stepped forward, giving Sanji's back a friendly pat and expressing his gratitude for the remarkable service. As dusk approached, it dawned on you how much time you both had devoted in that isolated chamber, and how rapidly the hours had slipped away in his company.

For the second time that day, your friends refused to allow you to dip into your savings, even though you were more than ready to compensate Sanji for all his efforts. Every single one of them.

But in the end, would money even suffice? You still felt a lingering indebtedness towards him, and you made a solemn vow to yourself that one day, somehow, you would reciprocate his kindness in a much grander, more significant way.

Mari persisted for a solid fifteen minutes, trying to convince him to accept the payment. Sanji was adamant that he didn't require any compensation, asserting that his joy stemmed from ensuring all of you were content and well-prepared for your journey home. However, no one could ever win against Mari’s obstinacy, and he was compelled to accept the payment with a slight reverance as he reluctantly took their Berries.

The mere idea of returning to your hometown felt like a weight on your heart, and the prospect of bidding farewell was agonizingly painful.

Recognizing that he needed to return to his duties at the Baratie, you proposed walking with him, not wanting him to endure Zeff's criticism for his extended absence. Naturally, Mari and the rest didn't oppose, silently motivating you to seize this chance.

Thus, both of you disembarked from the ship, strolling side by side down the wooden pier. The sea breeze brought a pleasant salty touch to your skin, and you were at a loss for words, unable to interrupt the serene quiet.

In the end, he was the one to shatter it.

"Will you be all right, love? Truly?”

His concern was moving, and it only made you want to stay and never leave.

"Yes," you replied with assurance. "Truly.”

“You do realize that you're stronger than you think, right?”

You smiled. "I do now, thanks to you.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

You stopped, pivoting to face him and sweeping your hair away from your face. "You did a lot, actually. Maybe you don't even recognize it, but the way you speak has a way of calming a lady's heart. It certainly worked with me.”

He tucked his hands into the pockets of his trousers. "Believe me. With you, it’s natural.”

"If that's the case, I'm flattered.”

You resumed your walk, moving forward until the entrance to the Baratie stood directly in front of you. A part of you longed to grip onto him and beseech him to let you stay, to grant you employment at the restaurant, to protect you from any potential danger you might face at home.

Because, at the end of the day, you never learned how to stand on your own two feet. The reason it took you such a long time to finally break free from your family's control was that you had spent your entire life craving their love and approval. You sought validation, a confirmation that you were enough. But all you were met with were cruel words and expectations that shaped you into a person you didn't identify with, nor you wanted to be.

Sanji helped you understand that you weren't someone to be despised. You were deserving of protection and care, and your true value far surpassed the worth your family had ascribed to you.

"Will I see you again?" He asked, resting a hand on the door without pushing it open.

"As if I could go on without ever tasting your cooking again.”

You both shared another bout of laughter, trading one last look before you retreated a step. "Take care, Sanji. I'll see you soon.”

Without awaiting his reply, you turned and initiated your departure, taking a few steps along the pier as more ships began to approach.

But as you forced yourself to reach your friends, your body seemed to resist, decelerating until you came to a complete standstill, unsure of your subsequent action.

"Oh, come on! After all he's done for you, you didn't even give him a kiss?”

Mari's words reverberated in your mind, and although you had initially cast aside the notion as dreadfully improper, now your hands quivered with the urge that was overtaking you.

You swiveled your head, sneaking a look back at Sanji who had stayed exactly where you left him, motionless, observing as you walked away. Summoning a spontaneous burst of bravery, you made long strides to return to his side. His lips began to part to say something, but you halted him by resting your hand on his chest and pressing a modest, tender kiss onto his cheek.

It was cautious, as gentle as the touch of a feather. But the way he traced his fingers along your arm to grasp your wrist was an unmistakable indication of his appreciation for your gesture.

You barely locked eyes with him as you pulled back, your cheeks blushing at the sight of them. You didn't even stop to consider what you had just done, turning and darting off, making a beeline for your cabin with the intent to confine yourself and never come out. Only when you reached the main deck did you dare to look at the Baratie, realizing that the door was fully open and Sanji was nowhere in sight.

Throughout your voyage, your friends teased about the palpable tension and electric atmosphere that seemed to spark whenever you and Sanji were near each other. They highlighted the unmistakable mutual attraction, causing your cheeks to heat up even more. It was now impossible to deny that there was some form of connection between the two of you, but with the unresolved situation back home looming over you, you opted to shelf those thoughts as there were more pressing matters at hand.

The feeling was sickening, excruciating, and completely daunting. As you stared at the town materializing in the distance with a cup of coffee in your shaking hand, you promised yourself that this time, regardless of the potential fallout, you would stand up for your own welfare.

Now, unlike ever before, you knew exactly what to do. And for the first time, you had a clear objective to accomplish - you desired to see Sanji's face again above all else in the world.

Final note: I didn't fully describe my OCs because I thought it would be fun for the readers to come up with their own vision and interpretation, so you are free to see them however you please, only using my little details as an indication.

Also, people have speculated that Sanji has a piercing just below his tongue, considering that something shiny seems to show up there in a couple of scenes. Someone confirmed that Taz Skylar, Sanji's actor, actually has one irl, so I thought it would be nice to include it here! 😆

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 (currently reading) Go to Chapter 4 ->

[becausesomething]

Promise in the Storm (Zosan)

Sinopse:

Sanji faces frustration and melancholy when Zoro, stranded far away due to unexpected circumstances, seems unable to fulfill an important promise. Between conflicting emotions and intense dialogues, the two deal with the distance and limitations that test the connection between them. Just when all seems lost, an unexpected surprise appears on Sanji's doorstep.

WC: 1.5K

Warnings: smut&fluff

Sanji was at the restaurant, finishing up his last chores before closing the doors for Christmas Eve. The rain beat against the windows, and the deserted streets reinforced the melancholy atmosphere that he tried to dispel with the soft music that echoed through the room. Despite all his efforts to create a welcoming atmosphere, something weighed heavily on the chest. Or rather, someone.

Zoro was on the other side of the world, competing in a martial arts championship that had kept him away for weeks. Sanji had accepted, somewhat reluctantly, that the swordsman had his priorities, but the agreement was that he would be back for the festivities. Now, with the storm raging across the region, Zoro's hopes of arriving in time seemed increasingly distant.

The cell phone vibrated in his apron pocket, and Sanji quickly answered it. Zoro's name lit up the screen, and for a brief moment, the irritation he felt gave way to unexpected relief.

— Finally, marimo! I thought you forgot to call.

Zoro's image appeared on the screen. He was sitting in a chair in a hotel, his hair messy and an expression as frustrated as Sanji's.

— Don't start, curly — grumbled Zoro, looking away as he did whenever he was uncomfortable. — I have bad news.

Sanji felt his heart tighten.

— You won't make it, will you?

Zoro sighed, running his hand over the back of his head.

— The storm canceled all flights. I'm stuck here until tomorrow.

Sanji tried to control the disappointment that was growing inside him, but sadness invaded his face, eventually appearing.

— If there were other means of transport, you know very well, I would already on my way. Unfortunately, I'm too far away. — Zoro manages to hide the sadness in his voice, showing frustration, and thinks of ways to cheer up the cook. — What if you go to someone so you don't spend the night alone?

— Luffy is with Law, we know how it is ... — a small smile appears on both of their faces but is soon taken over by a sigh — Nami was going to go out of town with Vivi. Brook is on tour. Jimbei went to spend time with his family. Robin, Franky and Chopper, I think they were going to be at the house — Sanji takes out a cigarette and lights it — but I don't want to bother them.

— I don't want you to spend the night alone. Sorry, Sanji.

At that moment, reality took over and Sanji's expression turned into frustration.

— Of course... It could only be with you. So much promise that you would be here, and now you're stuck there doing who knows what.

— You think I didn't try?! — Zoro raised his voice, the defensive tone appearing immediately. — I'm not to blame for the weather, Sanji.

— It's not just the weather, Zoro! — Sanji felt his anger rising, but he took a deep breath, trying not to turn it into an argument. —  Forget. Just come back quickly, okay?

Sanji hung up the call before Zoro could respond. He stared at his cell phone, guilt already starting to mix with anger. He stubbed out his cigarette in the nearby ashtray, his fingers shaking slightly as he dropped the phone on the table. The music in the restaurant continued to play softly, but the environment, which he had carefully prepared to seem welcoming, now seemed unbearably empty. He ran his hand through his hair, trying to organize the thoughts. Zoro wasn't to blame for the storm, but Sanji felt betrayed by the situation itself. He had been counting the days to have the swordsman back, and now it would be another, of many other, lonely nights.

The restaurant door creaked with the strong wind outside, interrupting Sanji's thoughts. He went over to make sure it was securely closed, peering out the window at the deserted street. The rain continued to fall in thick cascades, and the lights hanging from the poles flickered, as if they were struggling to stay on.

"Idiot," Sanji muttered to himself. "Why can't you just be here?"

He returned to the counter and poured himself a glass of wine. He picked up his cell phone again, and as he looked at the screen, Zoro's words echoed in his head, especially the frustration in his eyes, the failed attempt to hide how much he was also suffering, began to melt Sanji's anger, replacing to an even heavier melancholy.

"Why does he have to be so stubborn? Why do I have to be so stubborn?" Sanji spoke loudly, as if the empty restaurant would respond. He laughed humorlessly, taking a long sip of the wine.

The clock on the wall showed 11pm. It was still an hour before midnight. Sanji looked at the bottle of wine and considered pouring himself another glass, but something stopped him. Instead, he decided it was time to go home. He grabbed his coat and hat, turned off the restaurant lights, and stepped out into the rain. The cold water was a welcome contrast to the suffocating heat he felt in his chest. He walked through the empty streets, his boots splashing in the accumulated puddles, his mind far away.

He knew the swordsman was sincere, but that didn't make the situation any less frustrating. He wanted Zoro there. I wish he had fought harder, found a solution, anything. But what if he really had tried everything? Guilt began to weigh on him like rain soaking his coat. Zoro was a man of few words, but he always kept his promises. If he said there was no way to get there, it was probably true.

Sanji sighed and hurried to get out of the rain.

The next day, Sanji was in the flat's kitchen, preparing lunch while trying to shake off the discouragement that had persisted since the previous night. The ringing of his cell phone interrupted his thoughts, and answered it, knowing who it was without looking at the screen.

— Are you alive after all, marimo?! — he asked, his tone full of sarcasm — What the fuck?! I was worried, you didn't said anything else!

— Merry Christmas to you too, long leg — replied Zoro, with the usual irritated tone, but something softer was mixed in his voice.

— Oh yes, merry Christmas. Where are you?

— I couldn't catch anything — said Zoro, his voice lower.

Sanji sighed, trying to control the urge to insult him again. But before he could respond, he heard a knock on the door.

— Wait one moment. — Sanji placed his cell phone on the counter and went to the entrance, without imagining who it could be.

As he opened the door, stood still for a moment, processing what he saw. Zoro was there, in front of him, his hair wet from the rain and his clothes rumpled, holding a small backpack on his shoulder.

— It took me a while because I got lost — he said, with a small shrug and crossing his shoulders, trying to appear calm, but the slight blush on his cheeks betrayed his embarrassment. — I took a flight at dawn and then came straight here, this city is a labyrinth and... well, here I am.

Sanji blinked several times, trying to absorb the information. He wanted to yell at Zoro for not saying anything, for making him worry even more, but at the same time he felt an overwhelming wave of relief and gratitude.

— Are you kidding me? You said you hadn't managed to catch anything!

— I thought it would be a good surprise — replied Zoro, with a shy smile. — Apparently, it wasn't.

Sanji crossed his arms, giving him a withering look.

— You're an idiot, you know? — Sanji said, approaching him — Who gets lost in a city with digital maps and GPS?

— Don't start. It was bad enough without your taunts. — Zoro looked away, but there was a small smile forming on the corners of his lips.

Sanji was silent for a moment before sighing. He raised his hand, resting it on Zoro's shoulder.

— I wanted to see your face when you saw me — Zoro admitted, scratching the back of his head and looking away.

Sanji rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the small smile that escaped.

— You are impossible, marimo. Get in before you get pneumonia.

Zoro entered the flat, taking off his backpack and placing it on the floor.

—Aren't you going to scream anymore? — he asked, with a slightly provocative tone.

Sanji sighed, closing the door behind him.

— It's not worth it. You're already here, aren't you?

Zoro approached, hesitantly, he looked at him, his green eyes filled with a sincerity he rarely showed.

— Are you mad?

Sanji looked at him, assessing him for a moment before responding.

— I am, but... it's hard to stay mad at you when you do things like that.

Zoro smiled sideways, that lazy smile that made Sanji want to punch him as much as kiss him. Before he could think too much, Zoro stepped forward, closer.

— I'm your gift, curly.

Sanji rolled his eyes, but before he could respond, he grabbed Zoro's shirt and pulled him in for a kiss.

The familiar taste, the warmth that drove away any resentment... At that moment, no storm or delay mattered anymore. What mattered was that somehow, against all odds, Zoro had kept his promise. And that was all Sanji needed.

Note:

Find more stories here and here xoxo

english is not my first language, even thought I use it more than my native tongue. I try my best to adapt it 🫣

[devswritingcornerorsmth]

mirrorwatch headcanons

since ow doesn't like making stories anymore I'm making my own (bliz pls hire me for story stuff) (actually dont i know what goes on there-)

lowkey inspired by @/vhstropics on tiktok

just headcanons not canon and based of my personal bias. don't like em make ur own :D

TANKS

D.VA: Failed MEKA training and was replaced by D.MON. South Korea is half destroyed due to the Gwishin and MEKA failed and most pilots have passed. D.VA/Hana is currently in a shelter with her family, trying to stream for money but never gets any views due to the amount of people doing the same.

Doomfist: Formed Overwatch to combat the Omnic Crisis after his master was killed by said omnic's (Mirrorwatch Orisa).

Junker Queen: Lives with her family in Junkertown. Participates in the Scrapyard most of her time.

Orisa: Part of Null Sector and led the massacre in Numbani.

Ramattra: Took Mondatta's place and ended up assassinated by Tracer via pulse bomb while Widowmaker/Amelie tried to save him.

Reinhardt: After everything that happened in Eichenwalde he gave up his oath as a knight and wanted revenge for the comrades he lost in battle due to the Omnic's. After killing both Omnic's and people, he was taken in by Mercy/Vengeance and became a top member in Mirror Talon.

Roadhog: Living with his daughter in Junkertown. Sometimes they go to New Zeland to visit other families but mostly stay and talk with friends and other family. He never meets Junkrat but does see him every once and a while with his mother.

Sigma: Siebren was able to harness gravity, and with the help of Moira, keeps his mind under control. Has won several awards due to his discovery and currently works with Mirror Overwatch.

Wrecking Ball: Escaped the Moon after the massacre by himself and ended up working with Mirror Overwatch as an engineer.

Winston: He was part of the massacre on the Moon and was pissed when Hammond left him by himself. Built his own way back to Earth and landed in Junkertown where he became champion and seeks revenge on Hammond for leaving him.

Zarya: Discovered that Russia was actually helping the Omnic's and destroyed what she could while also stealing a bunch of stuff that was important to her boss. She soon joined Talon and was given her gravity gun and enhancements to her body to make her even stronger thanks to Mercy/Vengence.

Mauga: (okay two of them cuz angst raaahh) 1, Mauga joined Overwatch after the Deep Sea Raiders disbanded due to Talon. He joined around when Baptiste did and was sad to learn he left due to wanting to be a merc. He let Baptiste go and promised they would see each other again, whether that be friend or foe. 2, Mauga was high up in Overwatch along with Baptiste. Bap was kidnapped by Talon and tortured for months. When they got him back, he killed Mauga and ended up as Scorpion.

DPS

Ashe: Akande/Doomfist made something similar to Blackwatch and got Ashe after finding her abandoned by family. She distances herself from Mirror Overwatch after it disbanded but still cares for it and will become active again if they need her to.

Bastion: After he woke up, so did his programming. He caused panic and a mass murder once reaching the city and went into hiding after he was damaged by police and others. Was soon found by Null Sector and is now a member.

Cassidy: Created Deadlock after Ashe and the rest of his family left him in the desert. Neither have heard from the other.

Echo: When she woke up, her programming malfunctioned and she was unable to learn new things and only knew that she was a weapon. Liao tried to deactivate her but Echo killed her out of fear. She soon joined Null Sector and became Zenyatta's right hand.

Genji: After attempting to murder his brother, he fled to Junkcity where he now lives his life in hiding from the Hashimoto and Shimada.

Hanzo: Genji tried to kill Hanzo and almost succeded. The Hashimoto took him in and fixed him with robotic parts and made him a killing machine for their own benefit.

Junkrat: Living with his mother in Junkertown, while taking care of her and building her little trinkets. Mei: Passed due to the cryo-sleep malfunctioning. None of them made it and ended up being forgotten by most of the world.

Phara: Joined Talon to follow her mother's footsteps, currently in training after being kicked out from Helix.

Reaper: Moira fixed him up in a good way this time. No longer has Wraith form nor can teleport, but he no longer feels too much pain and uses his abilities for good.

Sojourn: Dies the OW explosion.

Soldier76: (straight/j) Joined Talon after the OW explosion and was experimented on by Mercy/Vengence. Now faster and stronger but decaying a lot faster than normal. He only has about a year of life left and is living it with murder through Talon and weapon trading with Los Muertos.

Sombra: Still a very good hacker but her parents never passed and improved of her hobbies as long as she used them for good. After they died at the hands of Los Muertos, she turned most of them in using her hacking abilities and was scouted out by Akande for her good deeds. She now turns in criminals and sends money to the poor when she can using the money the criminals possibly stole. Best friends with Widow and thinking of asking her out.

Symettra: Dropped out of Vishkar and left to Junkertown to expand more on her creations. Is quiet popular and owns a popular shop.

Torbjorn: Left OW after the explosion. Due to complications, his wife passed, leaving him with only Brigette. He needed money to keep them afloat and joined Talon to use his engineering abilities to build multiple weapons and armor.

Tracer: Part of OW as a pilot and was presumed dead when they couldn't find her plane and left her as such. She joined Talon to get revenge on the people who wronged her.

Widowmaker: Top Sniper in OW and followed Ana closely until she shot Widow in the eye for Talon reasons. Eye got replaced by Moira and ended up being an even better shot. Bestie friends with Sombra, knows of Sombra's crush. (edit: forgot about her husband but fuck it lesbians raaahhh)

Venture: (Works for the British museum/j) They joined Talon to search for artifacts to pawn off for money. They're one of the richest people in Talon due to this and does flaunt their wealth while underpaying the people actually digging for the artifacts.

SUPPORTS

Ana: A plant in OW until she was tasked with killing Widow. She failed and went back to Talon before they caught up with her. Uses Mirror Mercy's healing tech to hurt others and (sorta) help her team. She teases Rein for not being able to save his comrades, making their relationship nonexistent.

Baptiste: (two again cuz lore n angst) 1, Left OW because they refused to let him show his full potential on the battlefield and was paired with Ashe n the little team Akande made (Mirror Blackwatch). Was stopped by Mauga before he was let go. Now a merc under the name Scorpion doing business with Talon. 2, He was in OW before he was kidnapped and tortured for months until OW found him again. He killed Mauga and went off back to Talon, only to run away again and become a merc.

Brigette: Following in her father's footsteps and joined Talon. Talon realized her full potential and allowed her on the battlefield after she showed how aggressive and strong she was. Torb was basically an absent father due to working so much but she respected him for it. She knew how hard it was on him and joined Talon to help. Mizti is a gift from Torb and is the office cat roaming around that bites and claws at everyone but Brig and Torb.

Kiriko: (not annoying, actually contributes to society, doesn't have a bike/jj). Followed Hanzo's footsteps and joined the Hashimoto, dying her hair to get rid of her routes as a Kamori. She works in Hanzo's squad and is constantly trying to find Genji and get revenge for him. Oath siblings in Kiriko's eyes while Hanzo hates the fact she followed him to the Hashimoto.

Lucio: Works at Vishkar alongside his father. Was close friends with Symettra until she left and now despises her.

Mercy: Founder of Talon after she realized OW wasn't changing the world and decided to change it herself after discovering her medical tech.

Moira: Head Medic at OW due to her discoveries with decay and bringing things back to life. Fixed Sigma's mind, Widow's eye, and countless other things. Has won multiple awards and is well-known in the medical community. Knew Mercy before she started Talon and was inspired by her.

Zenyatta: After witnessing the death of Ramattra, he began Null Sector and led the Omnic Crisis while Mondatta frowned upon him. He didn't care and wanted justice for his people.

Lifeweaver: Working with Vishkar and is a top researcher with hard light. Tolerated Symettra and was glad she left.

Illari: Once the ceremony came, turns out there was nothing special about her. She know feels burdened and like a disappointment for not being able to live up to expectations. She still tries to help but only ends up getting burnt. (Icarus situation)