#fic: crash and burn (and then return again)

[screechthemighty]

Titanfall fic writing is back, babey!! Fun fact, I started writing this *checks notes* literal years ago, but only just now circled back to it now that I'm filling in the holes in the Titanfall part of my Respawn Cinematic Universe. I will be eventually circling back to the stuff that happens after The Citadel, don't worry! I just wanted to get this one out of the way (again: literal years). AO3 link will be in a reblog, but you can read the first chapter below!

crash and burn (and then return again) | a titanfall 2 fanficpart one

cw: vomiting, loss/grief, shutdown, references to alcoholism

.

Things would’ve gone a lot differently if he were a in movie. For starters, Cooper wouldn’t have passed out within five minutes of arriving on the main battleship.

That was his own fault. His body had been giving him signs it was going to quit on him the whole flight back. He was shaky, almost dizzy, nauseous, and it felt like someone had replaced his brain with piles of stuffing. Cooper had figured it was just the adrenaline. Been there, done that. He’d be fine once he had something to eat and some real sleep. He didn’t say anything because it wasn’t a big deal.

Turned out it, was a big deal.

His memories of what exactly happened were hazy. Commander Briggs was there, he knew that, and Robert Taube. He remembered there were a lot of other people, and that he thought it was all those eyes on him (even in a positive light) that were making him feel worse. He tried to be subtle about excusing himself. He wasn’t sure if he succeeded or not; he thought someone followed him, but he couldn’t remember if it was Commander Briggs or Taube or both. Maybe it was neither. But he was pretty sure he remembered someone asking if he was okay, and replying that he didn’t feel so hot.

That must’ve been when he passed out, because his next concrete memory was lying on a moving gurney and someone checking his pulse “...repeated physical contact with an unknown energy source, we have no idea…” someone was saying.

Cooper risked opening his eyes. Commander Briggs was there, Taube, too, and a nurse, and a medical droid. It wasn’t that big of an audience, but it felt like a whole stadium of people once he realized what happened. “Did I throw up on anyone?” he mumbled.

“No,” Taube replied bluntly. “You about to?”

“...uhm…”

He must’ve gone grey or green or whatever color you turned when you were about to puke, because Taube swore and got out of the way. At least that way, Cooper didn’t throw up on anyone. Puking on the floor in front of his new CO, a respected war hero, and two medics was still in the top ten most humiliating moments of his life. There wasn’t much in his stomach to throw up, just water and one and a half energy bars. But apparently his body really didn’t want it.

There was a hand on his shoulder, someone asking him something, but Cooper barely registered the question. He stared down at the floor, eyes defocused. This had happened before, right? Fracture? Yeah. Fracture. He’d hit his head, suffered a concussion. Did he have another concussion? He’d fallen so many times on Typhon. He’d thought the jump kit and the helmet would take the worst of it but…hell, he didn’t know. He had no clue what he was doing. “Shit,” he muttered.

“Were you given any medication during Broadsword?” asked the med droid. Its voice was neutral in a calming way, but higher pitched than BT’s had been.  Thinking about BT made his stomach churn. “Exposure to any other energy sources?”

Had he? So much had happened. He could barely keep track. “Uhm...s-sansufentynal. After my drop pod landed. And...Lastimosa…” The name tasted bitter in his mouth. “…gave me something, I don’t know what. He said it might knock me out, but I’d feel better once I woke up. I was in a power chamber, there was some radiation, but I think it wasn’t so long that my suit couldn’t handle it.”

“Understood.” The med droid began speaking in softer tones to the medic, something about blood work and scans; Cooper was too busy trying to control his still-revolting stomach to really pay attention.

Am I dying? Did I really survive all that bullshit just to die like this?

“You’re not dying,” said Taube roughly. Cooper looked up at him, confused. Had he said that out loud? How out of it was he right now? “Just keep it together, kid. We’re gonna get you help.”

He was the one resting a hand on Cooper’s shoulder. The reassuring pressure of the grip contrasted with the way Taube actually looked: worn down, five o’clock shadow, bags under his eyes. He looked just as ready to pass out as Cooper felt.

Cooper couldn’t blame him for that. It had been a hell of a long day. Using the past tense didn’t feel right, though. A day like that couldn’t just be…over. Not like this. Not with…

He lay back down and shut his eyes tightly.

He can’t be gone.

How can he just be gone?

The thought kept echoing in his head as they dragged him into a private room in the medbay. Cooper went through the motions, sitting up, letting them look him over, responding to any questions he knew the answers to. The answers kept getting shorter and shorter; if that concerned the medics, Cooper barely noticed. Everything was growing more distant—sounds, sensations, the overall feeling of reality. All he wanted to do was curl up somewhere quiet and dark and sleep.

Sleep and wake up in a world where BT wasn’t gone.

.

Cooper had gone quiet.

Barker hadn’t noticed it at first. He’d only realized because he’d happened to glance in Cooper’s direction. He was hunched over, face buried in his hands, not making a sound even as his shoulders shook slightly. Barker wasn’t shocked—after everything Cooper had been through, having an emotional crash with the physical one wasn’t out of the blue or anything.

Should I do something?

Barker barely knew the guy from Adam, but he had a feeling Briggs didn’t either. That might’ve been part of the problem, now that he thought about it. All that shit and no one he could talk to about it.  Still, one of us should say something. Briggs was still talking intensely with the human medic, and the bot didn’t look like the reassuring type. It was either interrupt or…

He sighed. Ah, screw it. “Hey, Cooper?” Barker said carefully as he stepped forward.

Cooper didn’t reply.

Shit. “Cooper?” Barker repeated, a bit louder this time. When that didn’t get a response, he knew it was time to switch tactics. Cooper had been a rifleman before this; maybe he just needed a good prod from a CO to get him out of it. “Pilot,” Barker tried, trying to force his voice back into tones he hadn’t used since the IMC.

Still nothing.

Except he hadn’t been pilot for longer than a few days, right? Field promotion, no time to get used to it. So maybe…

“Hey, Rifleman.”

Cooper straightened up immediately, shoulders squared, hands dropping down from his face. “Sir,” he said. His eyes were pink, still wet with tears. He didn’t seem to register who Barker was at first; his body just responded to the rank. Muscle memory. Hell of a thing.

Barker had Cooper’s attention all right, but now he didn’t know what to do with it.

“You, uh…” Barker took another few steps forward and clumsily rested a hand on Cooper’s shoulder. “You okay?”

The kid looked at him like he was trying to figure out the right answer to the question.

That look didn’t last long. Whatever it was Cooper was trying to press down and re-shape into an acceptable answer shattered like a glass bottle. His composure and decorum went with it. Next thing Barker knew, the kid’s face was pressed against his chest as his body heaved with audible sobs.

Damn it, I am not equipped for this.

Though he may have been more prepared than everyone else there. Briggs looked just as caught off-guard as he did, and the medbot wasn’t going to be any help. The flesh and blood medic looked lost, too. Barker shot them all a baffled look as he clumsily patted Cooper’s shoulder. You’re gonna let me do this? Really? “’S’okay. Let it out.” Don’t worry about me telling anyone. I will definitely be drinking enough to forget this. “I’m sorry.”

The words tasted sharp, bitter. I get it. That part was left unspoken, but he did. The empty hole in your head, in your soul. You formed bonds quickly in combat. Cooper might not have had the years of connection Barker had with Juliet, but that wouldn’t make it hurt less. Someone sacrificing themselves for you never went down easily.

Barker gritted his teeth. Definitely drinking tonight.

“You’re safe now,” he said instead. “We’ve got you, kid.”

Cooper’s sobs slowed eventually. He let go of Barker’s jumpsuit, instead tightly hugging himself. He rocked slightly in place—self-soothing, if Barker had to guess—and his eyes stayed clenched shut. “Can’t,” he choked out.

“Can’t what?”

“It…mmph.” His shoulders hunched more tightly, like he was trying to shrink into himself. “Bright.”

Briggs finally snapped out of it and went to dim the lights. The medbot said something to the human medic, who cursed quietly and started digging around through some nearby drawers. Barker, meanwhile, crouched in front of Cooper, trying to catch his gaze. “That better?” A pause. A nod. “Anything hurt? Like, about to drop dead hurt?”

Cooper hugged himself more tightly. Damn it, I’m making things worse again. Barker didn’t think this was a panic attack; he’d seen plenty of those before. So what is it? What’s wrong?

The medic nudged him aside gently and held out something to Cooper. “Here,” she said. “Do you think you can use this?”

She small tablet she’d passed him had an application open with a bunch of buttons. Barker could see an alphabet, and some standard words and phrases. Cooper took the tablet, then stared at the application as if trying to register what he was looking at. After a lengthy pause, he tapped one of the options.

“No.”

Okay, they were getting somewhere. “No, nothing hurts?” Barker guessed. Cooper nodded. “What do you need, kid?”

A pause. This time, Cooper tapped at the letters.

“Alone.”

…yeah. Fair.

“Can we clear the room, guys?” the medic asked. To Cooper, she added, “We’ll be just outside. Come get us if you need anything, okay?”

She seemed confident that Cooper wouldn’t hurt himself or have a heart attack, so Barker followed the others outside. He took one more glance at Cooper as he stepped out, and almost wished he hadn’t. The freshly minted pilot had hunched back over, the tablet hugged tightly to his chest. It was something no one should see, least of all the drunk who’d only just met the poor guy.

Barker looked away. Jack Cooper was going to be the talk of the town when they got back to Harmony. The least they could do was let him grieve in private while he still could.

[jasmineoolongtea]

― in between ⋆⭒˚.⋆

― the ways in which they act around you when you're in that in-between stage ༘ ⋆｡˚

contents: gojo x gn!reader, geto x gn!reader, nanami x gn!reader, megumi x gn!reader, yuji x gn!reader, yuuta x gn!reader, headcannons/drabbles, fluff a/n: heavily based on in between by gracie abrams. if she releases it in the secret of us deluxe edition, i might just explode with happiness. btw thank you sm for blowing up my last post, literally insane of you guys and a big kiss to all of you. also genuine question for you guys, do you prefer the layout i have for my headcanons, drabbles or longer fics? i'm trying to see which one you guys prefer

gojo satoru never lets his phone ring for more than a couple seconds when it comes to you. doesn't matter where, when or what it could be about, the second he hears your personalised ringtone or sees your name flash across the top of his screen, he's scrambling to try and answer it as fast he possibly can. he could be in the middle of fighting a curse, deep within the throws of battle with a laser focus on the target in front of him and it all goes out the window the moment you call his phone.

you'll never know about it though. for some reason, satoru keeps this fact to himself like it's the biggest secret in the world. he'll always pick up the phone with a carefree lilt to his voice, sometimes even choosing to tease you for calling him when you could have just texted instead. quietly inside, he thanks the universe for giving him the opportunity to hear your voice again.

"gojo," god, he loves the way you say his name, maybe one day he'll manage to get you to call him satoru. "are you sure you're at home right now?" there's a tinge of concern that permeates your voice and he swears his heart beats twice as fast just thinking about the fact that you might be worried about his well being.

"of course! why'd you ask? don't tell me this is your way of asking to come over right now?" you sigh at his antics and he laughs it off, it's like a routine you two do. he keeps jokingly throwing out these more than friendly offers to your constant dismissal but secretly, he hopes one day that he can stop pretending like they're just that.

there's a loud crash coming from his side of the call which only serves your suspicions as you quip back. "no, gojo. i'm asking because i'm hearing noises like you're beating someone up." he curses faintly under his breath at the curse who's off groaning in pain in the distance after being punted into a wall with a flick of his wrist.

you pause for a second as your voice softens "is this a good time to call because if not i can just-"

"no, no." he cuts you off, "i've got all the time in the world for you."

geto suguru hates it when you cry and hates it even more when you're away. he never thought it would be possible to hear a heart shatter in front of him but that's what he hears every time you shed a tear. you're the definition of angelic as crystalline tears stream down your face and his heart swells with warmth when you allow him to comfort you in his arms.

silently, he pledges to burn down whatever has brought you so much grief and pain as a newfound sense of anger courses through his veins. but before he can do anything, you turn to him with watery eyes and a quivering lip as you ask him to do the unthinkable.

"stay." you plead quietly.

"okay." he responds, a soft, comforting smile gracing his expression. he'll never say it out loud but he knows that it's a request, just like many others, he'll accept a thousand times over if it means he gets to stay close to you, even if it's nothing more than this.

if he thought it was painful to see you cry, then being away from you was possibly a fate worse than death. whenever he has to bear the misfortune of being separated from you, there's a part of him that you've taken away with you and is only reunited when you return to him. absence is said to make the heart grow fonder but he's pretty sure it's humanly impossible for his to do that as you're already the one it beats for. even across the distance of a phone call, it's still not enough for him to hear but not see you as it simply makes him crave your presence next even more.

he's rarely ever let anyone in like this before but the day you see him exhausted, dishevelled and broken and still choose to remain at his side, despite his protests, is the day he's sure that you're the only thing he'll ever want for the rest of his life. you claim it's under the guise of being friendly yet even satoru hasn't seen him like this. you might not know it but he does.

he doesn't say much, instead choosing to bask in this moment of mutual comfort and closeness as even at each other's worst, you both know that you'll still be okay.

nanami kento says that he's new at this when you toe that delicate line between the two of you. you're new to this too. he's scared and you're scared, however, the fear is not enough to stop this. when does the line of being just friends end and the line of calling each other lover start? or is there a secret in-between stage that the two of you are stuck in like right now, where the other waits with bated breath to see if someone takes the risk to make the first move?

you've been friends for as long as you can remember running into each other that one fateful day within the rectangular walls of jujutsu tech. however, there's always been a whisper of something else there as well. it's been something the two of you have danced around with lingering glances and silent, 'accidental' touches in public spaces. the two of you have seen each other through the growing pains of adolescence, nights of broken hearts and awkward first dates and now with an added layer of professionalism as recent coworkers.

when it was nanami who was the one who rescued you from those times when you were left cold and alone in a random restaurant somewhere, you know that you've had enough of waiting on somebody who doesn't care about you. as he places his hand on your shoulder, ushering you into his car with his jacket dropped across your figure with the utmost care, he knows that you deserve so much more than whatever this world can offer and he can only dream of being the one to give this to you.

between you and him, there's an invisible wall of all the labels you have each barricade the other behind in an attempt to hide under a sense of familiarity but now in this moment, you want nothing more than to tear it all down with your bare hands. he reaches out to you, threading his fingers through his and in one swift move, he's done the impossible and has crossed over the holy ground that lies beneath you.

"do you think this is a good idea?" you ask him, your voice barely above a whisper.

"positive." he responds, more resolute in his answer than in anything he has been in his life, and you swear sparks fly when you kiss.

fushiguro megumi loves your eyes and your smile and you love how he talks late at night when there's no one there. it's like a silent agreement between you two, one that you always honour. whenever one of you guys can't sleep, you will go to each other's dorm rooms and knock twice and you guys will stay up and talk until either the sun comes up or you both fall asleep.

it doesn't take a genius to say that megumi is a guarded person, with his walls so high you might even lose sight of him behind them, so it only makes it even more precious when you're able to see him like this in the dim light of the moonlight pouring in through the window. his skin is illuminated by the glow and the way he sounds when he's speaking with his soul bared open in its entirety makes you want to forever immortalise this moment in your memories. you think about all the people who have missed out on experiencing him like this with how his eyes sparkle with passion and how he breaks out into a grin at the slightest joke, leading you to mourn silently for their loss. however, you think of how vulnerable he lets himself become around you, knowing that you'll stay here with him no matter what, and the sweet nothings you hear him whisper to you when he thinks that you've fallen asleep and you realise this a secret you'll want to keep just between these walls.

on the rare occasion that megumi loses his battle to sleep first, he'll silently reach out for your hand and pull you closer to him. you're not sure if he's doing this consciously or unconsciously but you chose not to comment on the growing red glow of his ears as you sink into his touch.

usually, however, what happens is that you fall asleep first as you make your way onto the pillowy fortress that is either of your guys' beds. as you begin to drift off, he's always there watching over you like your very own moody guardian angel. this is the most he'll let himself indulge in your closeness, for now, as he takes comfort in the familiarity of this in-between stage.

itadori yuji tells you that you're beautiful, funny and smart like nothing he's ever seen. he swears on everything he loves in this world, a list that includes you but you don't need to know that yet. you brush off his compliments with practised ease as you try to fight the burning sensation that is spreading across your face. deep down, you can feel your heart fluttering at his compliments but then you think about how you shouldn't be feeling this way about someone who's your friend.

"itadori, you're exaggerating," you say, shoving his shoulder playfully. he pretends to feign hurt, rubbing the impacted area with a slight pout. adorable, you think to yourself before bringing yourself back into the present moment.

"no, it's true really! if you don't believe me, i'll just keep saying it over and over again." he asserts, ever so confident in his stance. it's all true to him, just like how the sky is blue and the grass is green. he'll be the first one to say how pretty, amazing and talented you are in a room full of your biggest supporters and he'll be the first one to say it again when there's no one else.

you roll your eyes half-heartedly at him, trying your best to act nonchalant despite wondering if he might ever feel more for you than your current state of friendship. "you don't say that to your friends. what about nobara, you don't say this to her, do you?"

"yeah, but she isn't you," he responds back. you don't answer him, choosing instead to point out an ice cream stand in the far distance and he lets you tug him along with you. it's okay, he knows that you're scared of whatever lies ahead for you two. he understands that you're worried that he might like you in that way, although he thinks that it's a bit stupid you're still so unsure about it when he wears his heart on his sleeve whenever it comes to you. whatever is it, he'll be happy to go along at your pace, just as long as it means he gets to be by your side like this.

okkotsu yuuta is so good to you and it makes you want it more than everything in between. is it greedy to say that you want more than whatever you two have right now? the longing stares, the lingering touches and the way your faces light up when you spot each other in a crowded room. sure, those were all fine for a bit but how long were you able to survive on just that when he was right there next to you as a constant reminder of the possibility of something more.

you never thought that you would be able to meet someone like him, someone who treats you as if you were the best thing to ever happen with so much care and love radiating from his very being. the way his hand brushes your cheeks when you get even the smallest cuts makes your heart feel like it's about to fall out of your chest with how he takes extra care to scan over your appearance for anything, pausing for a second on your lips. you think to yourself, he must be doing this on purpose, and you want to curse at him for playing with your heart but when he smiles at you with those half-moon eyes, you can feel all of that melting away and more.

the only person you can blame here for your current predicament is yourself really, you were the one who drew the line in the sand when the two of you first met. just friends, you said but in your defence, you had just learned about his history and how cold and empty his has been as well as how much you've been hurt in your own past, so you decided to do what was, at the time, what you thought was best for the both of you. only now, every day you spend with him makes him wish that you would one day wake up and finally take that jump.

yuuta also shares your sentiments, actually ever since he first saw you he knew that you were the one he wanted to live and breathe for, but he doesn't say anything for fear of scaring you off. he knows about your worries, your doubts and your fears and as much as he wants to tell you that you should throw caution into the wind and that he'll take that step for you, he also knows that he can't. so for now he'll do his best to quell your nerves with a gentle hand on the small of your back and a fleeting kiss on your cheek that you'll someday trust in yourself and him to fall headfirst into this new unknown territory, outside of this in between.

[little-diable]

Meant to be – Prof!Spencer Reid (smut)

I just love writing prof!fics – almost as much as I love priest!fics. Almost. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader is a young professor joining the university Spencer works at. Even though he's annoyed about having to share his office with her at first, he can't help but fall for her all too quickly.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, office smut, some possessiveness/jealousy, lots of fluff

Pairing: Prof!Spencer Reid x fem!prof!reader (3k words)

“Professor Reid?” The soft voice filled his office, forcing his eyes off the paper he was currently grading. His gaze wandered over the woman's features as he curiosity studied her for a moment before clearing his throat. 

“My office hours are over, please return on Wednesday for your questions.” His eyes left hers to refocus on his papers, while expecting her to turn around and leave, urged on by the rude tone he hadn’t been able to shake. Spencer hadn’t expected anybody else to turn up this late in the afternoon, he was desperate to squeeze as much work into the remaining time he had alone in his office, already overstimulated by the mere thought of having to share his office with somebody from today on. 

“My name is (y/n), I’ll be sharing this office with you.” Once again he was forced to look at her, unable to swallow his annoyance as it began to dawn on him that she wasn’t a student.

She was pretty, by far prettier than all the pictures he had searched on the internet the second he had heard about her, about (y/n) joining his personal safe space. Why hadn’t he recognised her? Was his mind already that fed up with the pretty stranger? 

“Of course, I’m sorry.” He didn’t move as she slowly stepped into the big room, letting her eyes wander before finding her way to her space. The old wooden desk had been placed near the big window, drenching her in the light of the slowly setting sun. Spencer would crash and burn if he were forced to see this daily, a sight so ethereal he feared this was just a trick of his tired brain. 

“I’m sorry that you have to share your office with me, I can only imagine how annoying that must be for you.” He wanted to protest, wanted to tell her that he doesn’t mind sharing it with her – polite words any other colleague would have effortlessly spoken. But all Spencer could do was hum and redirect his gaze to the papers, while missing the slight hurt expression (y/n) couldn’t hide. 

……

Her heart was pounding with a faster beat, singing a tale of nervousness in her chest she couldn’t silence just yet. This wasn’t an unusual situation for her, she had taught numerous classes before, but the first class she taught at a new university always had something special to it, something (y/n) couldn’t shake. 

The students were working on the papers she had handed out a minute ago, fully engrossed by the story. She let her eyes wander, taking them all in in hopes of remembering at least a handful of them. But her thoughts were silenced the second her eyes found his. Spencer Reid was leaning against the door and with his arms crossed in front of his chest he intently studied her from his spot.

Her heart skipped a beat in her chest as it silently whispered to (y/n). It had been days since she had first crossed paths with him, the annoyed, closed-off man who was more handsome than she liked to admit. Ever since their first awkward run-in she hadn’t tried to make any conversations with him, she had opted to wear her headphones around him, hiding herself from the curious eyes she felt on her frame whenever she let her work swallow her. 

Neither of them dared to break their eye contact first, a silent challenge both were determined to win. (Y/n) allowed herself to take him all in, the locks perfectly framing his handsome face, the slight unfamiliar smile playing on his lips, and those twinkling eyes that seemed to follow her around whenever they crossed paths. 

“Alright, seems like our time is up, if you have any questions about your reading, please email me.” She was forced to break their staring contest first, smiling at her students who smiled back at her before leaving the room. (Y/n) couldn’t help but notice how a few of them wore overly bright smiles as they walked past Spencer, seemingly just as affected by the professor's handsome appearance, just like (y/n) was. 

Only as the last student had left the room did Spencer finally begin to move. Slowly, he walked down the stairs, moving closer to (y/n) with every passing moment. She was glued to her spot, patiently waiting for the man to break their silence, to let her hear the raspy voice that had rang in her ears for the past days. 

“That was a really interesting lecture, (y/n).” He came to a halt only a few steps away from her, keeping a slight distance between them as if he was unsure how to properly approach her. For a moment, (y/n) had to avert her gaze, she began to pack her bag with a slight smile stuck to her lips, hoping that he wouldn’t pick up on the nervousness flushing through her whenever he was close. 

“Thank you, Spencer, that means a lot coming from a beloved professor like you.” Her words drew a gritty laugh from him, while a slight rosy tint began to flush his cheeks. (Y/n) shouldered her bag before she began to walk up to him, wordlessly asking him to follow her up the stairs and back to their office. 

“Listen,” Spencer cleared his throat before he kept speaking, seemingly unsure how to put his thoughts into a coherent sentence. “I am sorry about those first days, I was annoyed and quite unfriendly to you. Would you allow me to make it up to you?”

“Oh, Spencer, that is very kind of you, but I get it, I would be just as annoyed if I had to give up my personal space to share it with a stranger.” Her soft voice left him smiling, unable to look away from (y/n) while stepping back into their own little bubble, the safe haven they found in their spacey office that was filled with books and collected items. 

“Would you want to get some food with me, as an apology? We could also order in, if you want.” He plopped down on his chair the same second (y/n) did, while holding eye contact from their spots. 

“Sure, that would be lovely, thank you, Spencer.”

……

Her phone had buzzed in her pocket a few minutes ago, and even though it had ripped (y/n) out of her thoughts, she was determined to get her search over with before giving into the pull. She had just finished her class and was now combing through their library, in search of new reading material, desperately trying to find her books. 

With a relieved sigh she reached for the book she had looked for these past minutes, pressing it to her side before finally giving into her heart’s silent call. (Y/n)’s hand wandered to her phone, unable to bite down her chuckles as she read Spencer’s all too simple message. 

“Thai or Italian?” 

Ever since that evening in their office, where they had ordered in and started to get to know one another properly, they had begun to form some kind of routine, ordering food at least once a week to spend their evenings together. Spending time with Spencer felt all too easy, too natural, something that made her feel more confused than she liked. 

She was about to type out her reply as she collided with somebody, forcing her eyes off her phone. Hands found her waist to stabilise her frame, keeping the young professor from losing her balance. (Y/n)’s wide eyes found a pair of brown ones, she studied the man for a second before parting her lips to apologise.

“I am so sorry, are you alright?” Her question drew a soft laugh from him. She had seen him from afar a few times, another professor she had yet to properly introduce herself to. He was a handsome man, taller than her and slightly older, and yet he had nothing on the professor she shared her office with.

“Don’t worry, are you alright though?” The man still had his hand placed on her waist, holding onto her while murmuring the question. Just as she wanted to reply, to tell him that nothing had happened, her name was called, forcing her attention towards Spencer, who was approaching the two. An unreadable expression tugged on his features as he studied her and the hand of their colleague which was still glued to her waist. 

“There you are, I was looking for you, sweetheart.” Heat flushed through her at the unfamiliar term of endearment. The second Spencer reached her side, he pulled her from the man’s grasp, straight into his arms. She could only gape up at him, torn between her confusion and the slight twinge of excitement she couldn’t shake as she took in his clear expression of jealousy.  

The man muttered something (y/n) couldn’t pick up, fully focused on Spencer and the way she fit all too perfectly into his grasp. No words were shared between them as they held eye contact, staring at one another as if it was the first time they got to take the other in. Spencer’s thumb stroked soft circles into the fabric of her shirt before he slowly – almost reluctantly – let go of her. 

“I, uhm, you didn’t reply, so I thought I’d go find before you get lost.” Spencer’s whispers drew a soft chuckle from (y/n). She couldn’t stop herself from reaching for his hand to lightly squeeze it as her smile kept growing.

“And what was that whole thing with calling me “sweetheart”?” The blush she was all too familiar with by now returned to his cheeks, while forcing his eyes from her. (Y/n) squeezed his hand again before she began to tug him down the hallway, set on finding their way back to their office.

“Don’t worry, Spence’, I quite liked it.” 

……

“You’re so quiet, what’s going on in that head of yours?” She mumbled the words as she studied Spencer. They were both sitting on the floor, leaning against the small couch placed near their bookshelves, while finishing their food. It had been almost an hour since their situation at the library, but while (y/n) had made some more jokes about the situation, Spencer had grown quiet, deep in thought. 

Spencer’s gaze flickered from his hands to her curious features. He studied her for a few seconds before he placed his plate down and fully turned towards (y/n). No words were shared between them, they were caught in a thick fog of unspoken thoughts, longings, and fears.

“Can I try something?” His husky voice was about to draw a gasp from (y/n). She could only nod her head, not daring to break out of the grasp this situation had on her. Spencer’s hand found her cheek, while his eyes were focusing on her lips. He let a few seconds pass before closing the distance between them. 

Within seconds he had pulled her into his lap, letting (y/n) straddle his thighs as their lips moved in sync. Their hearts were racing, pounding in their chests to beg one another to keep on going, to let their tongues meet while growing comfortable in the new sensation that held their souls hostage. The kiss felt all too perfect, something they had been waiting for ever since crossing paths, something they had longed for and thought of for weeks now. 

“I can’t stop thinking of the way he touched you.” Spencer murmured his words against her lips. A confused expression began to tug on her features as she patiently waited for him to keep on talking. 

“You’re mine to touch, and not his, you’ll never be.” Possessiveness dripped from his words – a possessiveness so strong, it made her feel as if they had been together for years, sharing memories neither could shake. (Y/n) couldn’t speak up, not when she felt Spencer’s hands disappear beneath the fabric of her blouse, softly stroking her sides. 

“Spencer,” she gasped his name, desperate for more, another touch – anything he’d offer to her. His lips began to find their way down her throat, sucking on spots that made her tingle with a biting heat threatening to leave its mark on her forever. (Y/n)’s hands tugged on his curls while trying to shuffle even closer, letting her core grind against his growing bulge. 

“We shouldn’t do this here.” (Y/n) could only whisper the words as his hands pulled her blouse over her head, exposing her bra to his wandering eyes. The groan that left Spencer at the sight made her forget every word she wanted to speak, every warning, nothing but hazy thoughts were left behind. 

“Tell me why we shouldn’t, baby.” The raspy command forced her to arch her front into his touch. She felt as if he had set her ablaze, burning for him only, a summer solstice bonfire that left her shaking and trembling in a desperate need to turn every offering into something worthy. 

“People will hear.” His hands kept moving, urged on by the desperate whines leaving (y/n). The cold air teased her now naked chest, the hardening nipples Spencer’s fingers tugged on, drawing the most sinful sounds from her parted lips. 

“And? Let them hear how good I’ll be fucking you.” The words seemed to do something to (y/n) - they forced her hands to move from his hair down his front to slowly undo his trousers. Both knew that there was no way out of this, they were high on the feelings the other pushed through them, desperate for the highs they could already feel creeping closer without being properly touched.  

“How can you be so sure you’ll satisfy me enough?” She was riling him up, teasing him in a desperate attempt to forgo any foreplay to be filled by him, needing to feel Spencer buried deep inside of her. They held eye contact for a second as she finally managed to free his cock, twitching in her grasp as if he felt the same exciting heat burning deep inside of him. 

Spencer didn’t speak another word as he pushed her off his lap to murmur a raspy “Undress”. He stared at her as (y/n) pulled out of her jeans, with her soaked panties following a second later. Her skin was prickling, unsure how to act around the man who was now seeing her completely naked for the first time. 

They kept looking at one another while Spencer fisted his cock, giving himself a few pumps before a smirk tugged on his lips. With his hand finding the back of her head, he pulled her in for a teeth-clashing kiss – a kiss so desperate (y/n) feared he’d rob her of her last breath. 

“Turn around, chest down on the couch.” Slowly, (y/n) turned around to follow his command, only to feel him behind her a few moments later. She heard Spencer shuffle around and rip open a condom, before she felt his slender fingers at her aching heat. A loud moan managed to break through her at the feeling of his digits brushing through her slit, collecting drops of her arousal to spread it on her pulsing bundle. 

(Y/n) had to claw her fingernails into the fabric of the couch to ground herself, to let go of a few deep breaths – all while Spencer slowly pulled his fingers away to push his cock towards her entrance. With one hand placed on her waist, he held onto (y/n) while slowly pushing into her – a sensation so strong, it pulled raspy moans from the both of them. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby.” (Y/n) could only let go of a sob at his praises. She had her eyes squeezed shut, knuckles turning a few shades lighter from the strong grip she had on the couch. Spencer pulled out of her, only to fuck into her with more force, letting his hips meet her behind with every thrust. 

This was neither sweet nor was it slow, it was a desperate fuck, an attempt to get rid of the tension lingering between them, the longings neither of them had managed to shake ever since meeting for the first time. It was a perfect chase that now ended with both of them tumbling to their knees, losing all grip on reality, while being fucked into oblivion. 

“Spencer, fuck, you feel so good.” Tears dripped from her eyes while the words broke through her – words that filled Spencer with pride. His smirk began to widen as her moans grew louder, rumbling through their office like a song both played on repeat.

“Touch yourself, make yourself cum on my cock, baby.” Her fingers blindly followed his command, she circled her pulsing bundle to push herself closer and closer towards the edge, high on the sensation that began to thump through her veins. With her teeth buried in her lower lip, (y/n) tried to keep another moan from leaving her, very well knowing that anybody could burst into their office any second now, a risk neither of them should take. And yet they couldn’t care, not when he was buried deep inside of her and about to fuck her through her high. 

(Y/n) began to tremble as her orgasm climbed up her limbs, momentarily robbing her of her sight as black spots appeared in her vision. Spencer kept fucking her from behind, more ferocious with every thrust to chase his own high, set on following her down the edge. Their moans got tangled, ringing in their ears as if fireworks went off in the distance to support them through this long awaited moment. 

Spencer came with a groan of her name, he clung to her as they both rode out their highs with racing hearts and quivering limbs. Heavy pants left them, filling the room with every breath spluttering from their lips. 

“That was,” the rest of her sentence was left hanging in the air. Spencer slowly pulled out of her, he tossed the condom away before finding his way back to her. A slow kiss was shared between them, with his hand cupping her cheek, and hers resting on his shoulders. 

“Perfect, like it was meant to be.”

[alchemistc]

Y'all were so insistent that I keep going with the Eddie Fixes It By Making It Worse post breakup fic.

This is officially a three-parter. Sorry. Or you're welcome.

You can read part one here

We have to make out in front of Tommy.

Buck's in the ice cream aisle, reminding himself that he has given himself three more days of moping and ignoring his diet before he gets his ass in gear and starts to live a life again. The Halo Top is mocking him, jeering and heckling as he goes for the Blue Ribbon. Mint chocolate, because Buck always loved it and he can almost forget the mock fight he'd had with Tommy three months in when he told Buck he refused to allow toothpaste flavored treats into his home, and how they'd barely gotten back to his place without a public indecency citation.

He stares at the text until his eyes cross.

What, he sends back, and slowly, cautiously, returns the pint of ice cream to its spot in the cooler. Maybe he should lay off the sugar. He's had enough.

Trust me

It comes in almost immediately and Buck tries to rewind, tries to figure out what any of this means, what the context is, why he's getting an actual Trust Me Bro from his best friend.

You've already met your last and it's not me comes crashing back to the forefront of his mind. He's had a full 36 hours to forget it, and he had been nearly there, nearly ready to chalk it up to Tommy trying to make him angry. Which he's been doing a really fucking excellent job of, lately. Almost like he knows all the buttons to push. Like Buck had given him the owners manual.

Tommy had meant Eddie? How could Eddie have possibly come to that conclusion? What the hell was he doing sending Buck half across town to the market for snacks when -

Buck judges the distance from this market to Eddie's. Then to Tommy's.

"Oh you mother -."

A woman squeaks by with her kid in the cart seat and glares.

---

Are you at Tommy's right now

No question marks. This is an accusation. Buck's thankful there are no perishables in his cart as he abandons it in the lane and hikes it towards the door. It's a dick move, and Buck feels, a little spitefully, like if anyone remembers him they'll remember him from the times he and Tommy giggled and play-fought down the aisles, so they'll think of Tommy when they think of the cart left behind. Resent him for it, maybe.

Not like Tommy isn't particularly good at just leaving things behind.

Yeah. Join me.

Buck breaks through the doors and feels a little woozy. This might be a panic attack. His chest fucking hurts.

🖕just get my stuff and meet me at yours. tell Tommy we burned all his shit

Eddie is an asshole. I'm not gonna LIE to the man. Also he definitely doesn't have an Evan box ready to go, so take what you will from that

Buck's still in that vicious cycle where he goes from angry to upset to sad in record time, no barriers in between, where every bruise feels like it's healing too fast so he keeps pressing in just to watch the color muddle. He hates this.

It'd be a Buck box, Buck texts back, just to release some of the pressure behind his temples, and he pulls in a few deep breaths before he jogs for the Jeep. He's gonna go home. Throw on the DVD copy of Sleepless In Seattle Tommy left behind and then maybe once that's done he'll throw the damn thing in a blender.

Are you coming or not?

Buck turns the ignition and peels out in a direction that won't lead to his own home, or the things Buck has been too much of a mopey bastard to pack up and return to their owner. At a red light two miles down the road, he shares his location.

Eddie sends back an ominous Hope you brushed your teeth today.

---

Eddie gets the door and it sucks just as much as if Tommy had. They barely ever spent time at Tommy's, and Buck can see it now for the boundary it was. When they had, though, their time had been split pretty evenly between Buck picking him up for a date, and Eddie wanting to leave the quiet echo of his own house to hang with them - a car on a lift and beers shared between them, Buck watching the pull of muscle beneath Tommy's shorts as he took Eddie down to the mat, Tommy's fingers drifting through the short curls at the back of Bucks head while Eddie yelled about triple-doubles and chatted with Tommy about how impossible coverage was for some guy named Joker.

Buck has never actually figured out who that guy was. Eddie hated the Mavericks and he hated the Lakers but Eddie also complained about the guy so much he definitely wasn't a Clipper.

Eddie gets him by the forearm when Buck shows clear signs of regretting this. Drags him through the front door before Buck can fully execute his spin and stomp back to the Jeep.

Tommy's next door neighbor had waved at him from her yard where she was doing something new with her display of bird sculptures, and Buck hadn't had the heart to do anything but raise his hand back.

It's less than ten seconds before Eddie is steering him down the hall, into the living room. It's cozy in here. Lived in. Mismatched furniture that somehow fits, a blanket thrown over the side of the couch, dark wood tables and light wood flooring and lamps that look like they came from an estate sale up in the Hills. A huge ass TV set above the mantle of a gas fireplace that Buck never even had the opportunity to see working before... Before.

Tommy is a shadow coming out of the kitchen, and Buck can't help but be a little pleased that he looks as crappy as Buck feels.

---

Eddie claps his hands together before either of them can get a word in. "Okay. Here's the thing. You're both dumbasses and there's a lot of shit that you guys gotta figure out on your own. But apparently you," he points at Tommy with the lip of a beer bottle. Corona. Tommy hates the stuff, and Buck is reminded once again how dearly Eddie loves him, "need empirical evidence that there's no deeply repressed sexual tension between Buck and I. So."

"You're insane," Tommy says, and Buck feels like snapping at him. He's probably right. This is an insane thing to do. Eddie ambushed his ex and then ambushed Buck in the frozen treats aisle and now he wants to kiss Buck to prove a point? What??

Eddie ignores it. Turns to Buck. "How do you wanna do this?"

And now would be the time, actually. Now would be the time to cut the thread, make it clean, break it for good. Only despite his protest, Tommy is staring between them and his expression looks almost... hungry. Frightened, at the same time. Oh. Oh.

He really had thought...?

Eddie's a fucking idiot. Buck doesn't want to kiss him. He's squared with the fact that he definitely had a crush when they first met and he's definitely been attracted to Eddie and just not realized it but he doesn't want Eddie. He doesn't want a life with Eddie, not like that. He doesn't- He isn't -

He loves Eddie more than almost every other person on the planet, but he's not in love with him.

Buck squares his shoulders. Nods. "Yeah, okay," and then he's taking three strides to meet Eddie at the coffee table.

---

"Oh come on, are you serious?"

Buck ignores the exclamation from the peanut gallery. Tries to figure out where to put his hands. He's never really noticed the height difference before. It's barely anything - a couple inches at most - but it feels like he's looming, this close. Which is stupid. He's been this close to Eddie a million times.

Eddie bends his knees to set the beer down. Darts his gaze back up to Buck.

Buck's seen him pull this move before, and has to bite down the urge to cackle because those big brown cow eyes have charmed women up and down California and probably plenty of Texas too but the only time Buck's ever seen them look genuine was when he was looking at Shannon.

He's got a good face. Angular in all the right places, expressive in a way a lot of men try to hide. Good eyelashes, clear skin.

Eddie gets a thumb in one of Buck's belt loops and tugs.

It's a good move. It's a move that has inspired Buck to sink to his knees on more than one occasion with the right men. Man. Just the one man.

He desperately bites back a giggle when the front of their thighs brush and Buck feels nothing more than the heat coming off Eddie.

Eddie's flushed, just a little, like he's well aware how ridiculous this all is, but he's got his I'm So Fucking Serious face on and there is a part of Buck, something fucked up and broken and wrong, that wonders how Tommy would feel to see it. To know that Buck is out there in the world kissing people who aren't Tommy. It's not like he'd ended things because he didn't care for Buck, because he wasn't attracted to him. It's gotta sting, right?

Buck gets a hand on Eddie's waist, just above his hip bone. He's never actually paid attention to how much more slim Eddie is, before, how big Buck's hands feel against him.

The night Tommy had first kissed him, Buck had spent an indeterminate length of time replaying every second of the interaction. The lead up, the frank honesty, the way Buck's entire body had followed the flow of Tommy's. Heart racing, body thrumming: when Tommy had ducked his head, when he'd laughed, when he'd opened up his body language and dropped a tiny morsel of his heart, Buck had felt himself drawn in.

The lips that had caught his had set him alight.

Eddie shifts his weight and blinks up at him and for half a second Buck wants this to be a good kiss - earth shattering, life changing. He wants to feel it. Wants it to be better than every kiss he and Tommy ever shared.

The pointer and middle finger he uses to tilt Eddie's chin up are petty as hell.

[storiesoflilies]

as we fall, time is broken

synopsis: from the sea you came to me, and to the sea you shall return, for you cannot hate the place you once called home. w.c: 6.3k.

pairing: vampire!toji fushiguro x vampire!f!reader

warnings: major character death, angst, toxic relationship, allusion to smut, blood consumption, language barrier, pirate vibes, religious themes. sfw but MDNI!

a/n: an extra special fic for the wonderful @bungalowbear this piece is also written as a tribute to ‘the odyssey’ by @lovenona <3

divider / ao3 / playlist / @ficsforgaza

she used to have it all once, and more.

and not so long ago, she even used to dream. maybe she still did sometimes, but it certainly never meant what it used to.

perhaps that is why she came back here all the time, to the place where it all began to try and relive it all again. to turn back time, attempt to break through a metaphysical barrier and maybe – just maybe – she could see him again.

it was a cathartic, toxic, addictive cycle.

this is what pain is. this is what love is.

the rain was coming down hard on the sand, little water angels falling down from heaven to try and comfort her.

(that was a place she could never go.

this was as close as she could get.)

she tipped her neck upwards to the blackness of the night, letting them pass through her like a blessing she could not accept. it was too late for her to be worrying about that now. life had already hurt her so, and she’d already paid her dues. still, she raised her arms above her head, imagining a halo of starlight and moonlight was there.

she was doomed to be here, you see, all alone and trying to make sense of how it all began. like the start of a book she had to keep re-reading over and over again to try and understand the past. she couldn’t give up now, no. no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t, not after all this time.

something was broken, she could feel it.

sighing, she flicked open the cover.

and the memories spilled out onto the weather worn pages again, incoherent inky letters slowly swirling into something legible.

this is the last time, she swore.

(even though,

that is what she said the last time.)

⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅

the sea was in her lungs, filling her with salt and death.

(no, not death.

that was already upon her.)

she was washed up on a beach, that much she knew. there was the smell of fresh seaweed and something fishy, and the waves were moving backwards and forwards in their dance. she stayed put, unable to move or do anything at all. the silver sky had its eyes on her, and it seemed to pity her.

no.

calling it silver made it beautiful, and it was not. it was like ashen skin kissed with coal dust, and she pitied it instead.

she tenderly rubbed the wet sand of the shore with her fingertips, feeling its somewhat smooth grainy texture run over her skin, and tried to loose herself in a tender fascination to escape how bone weary she felt. her throat burned ferociously, and her lips were cracked and sore from the salt grains embedded in every groove. she weakly looked up, and did not recognize where she was, or how she got here.

(there was a boat. the smell of oil and rum, and screams of bubbling blood.

she did know, she just did not want to remember.)

her back was to the sky. she could feel the heat of sun bearing down upon her with a vengeance she had never known it could possess. it kept her beaten and downed, unable to do anything at all as the waves rushed over her again and again. the sea was disgusted by her, she thought. and after spitting her out, it was trying with all its might to push her far away from it – a petulant child pushing away it’s dinner.

how very sad it all was.

she just wanted to lay there and dream.

the roaring and crashing of the waves was deafening. it hurt her ears and head more than the sun did, made her deaf to everything else around her.

a squelch on the sand, and hard boot pressed into the side of her cheek.

her salt crusted eyes cracked open.

it was a man.

(no, he wasn’t.

he was just like her.)

tall and built, his hair dark like smoke. she could tell he was strong, it poured from him like wine from an overflowing goblet. it was in his hands and in his eyes of emeralds and forests. there was a green fire in them that could burn her alive if he wanted it to. he looked down at her like she was scum, an ugly barnacle leaching off the bottom of his ship, and she wanted nothing more than to shrivel up into nothingness.

his mouth moved, saccharine words spilling out from between them like honey and lavender.

she thought he sounded like an angel.

but she couldn’t understand a thing.

a green flash of annoyance, and he repeated much more slowly what sounded like a question. the weight of his boot left her cheek, and she clicked her jaw painfully. he pursed his lips, and sighed in a way that let her clearly know she was already an inconvenience to him.

she wanted to cry.

(she could never,

there was no water left in her anymore.)

her voice tried to claw its way out of her dried throat, but nothing more than a pathetic, raspy wheeze came out. he raised a thick brow at her, and something sarcastic flew out of his mouth. what little interest he had in her was quickly waning.

she was to him like sand in an hourglass.

please don’t leave me here like this.

but he had already turned around. she saw the worn leather of his tanned boots walking further away from where she laid in her mausoleum of salt. she almost choked on the shoreline in fear, sputtering as a desperate strength seized her. her fists plunged into the wet sand as she pushed herself up ungracefully, falling almost immediately back in again.

she was a lamb learning to walk, and he was the wolf who had decided she wasn’t even worth his effort.

he stopped and turned, watching her stare up at him with a naive expression and sand plastered on her face.

clearly, he would not be helping her.

and so she got up sluggishly, stumbling through the sand dunes, her legs crisscrossing with every shaky step. every time she fell roughly straight on her chin, he did not budge an inch forward, did not seem to care at all.

and yet, he was still waiting for her.

her spent body was alight with renewed vigor, and the last few steps were easy, like her new body knew exactly what it was supposed to do now. she stood in front of him now, breathing in the scent of leather and his smoke.

was it disgust or pride that was making his lips curl?

his face was marble, beautiful and utterly unreadable. this was a man that did not want anybody breaking through into his soul. she couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if she slipped through a little crack.

(she was good at that.

after all, that was how she ended up like this.)

he roughly gripped her chin, calloused fingertips scratching her water wrinkled skin. his green eyes became slits that peered into her, trapping her in his spell. she gasped, a wet noisy thing, as she felt herself being pulled under into his depths. he was trying to dull her senses, to keep her dumb and overwhelm her in a dancing forest of kelp to drown her.

but the side of her that was logical and predatory knew that he was testing her. to see if she could resist him or not, to surmise if she could be of some use to him and his purposes after all.

but oh, this feeling.

she teetered dangerously on a knife edge between insanity and mortality, stuck in an infinite loop that was him and his green.

there was only this, them, here and now.

his gaze slid down and settled on her bare chest. she became hyper aware of her own nakedness. something ancient, a feminine violence, stirred her unfeeling heart. she slapped away his hand and bared her fangs of pearl at him.

it was a woeful display really.

she knew it, and he certainly did too.

still, something in it had made him smile.

he offered her his hand like salvation, his palm facing the heavens.

(the first woman from long ago screamed.

you will not survive this – him.)

but she was already dead, and he already seemed to know everything there was to know about her. she had already decided that she would follow him wherever he went.

she slid her palm into his.

⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅

his name was toji.

he’d pointed a finger at himself, slowly repeating the two syllables between his blood-stained lips until she understood what he meant.

toji.

she swiped her tongue over her teeth, licked her lips, and said it back to him tepidly, like crystal water trickling from a jug. his name was sugar dusted over her cupids bow, the most precious and sweet thing to her. she said his name like a prayer, and he seemed pleased by it.

toji was by far the most interesting creature she had ever encountered. a prince of mysteries, shrouded in royal mist and smoke.

(but he could never be king.

for there was already one, and he did not share.)

even though she had seen much and more of the world, nothing compared to him. not the great glaciers of the poles, for all their silent sorrow and imposing grandeur. not the swarming godly manta rays, nor the iridescent palaces of rainbow coral. not even the green flashes of death when the sun was just beginning to sleep or rise for the day.

and yet, toji had been there in glimpses within all the world’s greatness.

she had just been blind to him.

below the deck of toji’s ship, they lay there on the dusted-covered wooden floor in absolute silence, waiting out their penance. the sun was the vengeful michael, its rays of light a sword of justice, ready to bear down on them. if they dared to even show a sliver of skin during the day, then they would boil and blister and pop until they returned to the refuge of darkness.

toji’s ship was anchored a little way from shore, but far enough that ordinary creatures could not get to it without a boat. it had once belonged to fishermen, she knew because their smell still clung faintly to the wood; of grease and sweat and their catch. the oversized clothes toji had scrounged for her amongst the forgotten treasures on the ship still reeked of them too. the lingering sweet smell of lobster and crab shells still clung to the worn threads, even though they had been disused and covered in dust for perhaps decades.

her body could do things like that now.

it was easy to marvel at her extraordinary changes during those times of silence. how her skin was made of diamonds and moonstone, stronger than it had ever been before. no matter how hard she tried to pierce it, whether with her own nails or sharp bits of metal lying around the ship, nothing could even scratch it. but when she had attempted to use a splintered plank of wood, toji had grappled her before she could blink. the suddenness of it sent her into a hissing, flailing mess, but his overwhelming strength and stern glare in his eyes had stilled her, even frightened her.

she knew then to never try that again.

between the cracks in the boards, she could see far out into the distance. could make out where the world curled, where the sea kissed the land, and the humans that gathered mussels between the rocks. she could even tell how dirty and grimy their clothes were, how soaked they became as the waves crashed into them, and their reddening skin glistening beneath the sun.

her hearing had sharpened too, and she knew that if not for the deafening roar of the sea filling her ears like white noise, she would be able to hear things moving from miles away.

but her favorite thing?

that was to run.

for hours, she would race beneath the ship, from one end to the other, touching the stained wood with her finger tips as she pushed off each wall. toji would sometimes watch her with one eye cracked open, completely unamused. she would not stop running until her throat burned with thirst, fierce and hot. only then then would she would stop, collapsing in a heap on the bare floors, blankly staring up at the decking.

it was then that their silence was all consuming, unbearable.

she couldn’t help but think she had traded her tomb of salt for one of wood. sleep was but a memory of life now, an escape neither of them could indulge in anymore. there was nothing she could do but be consumed by thought and time. she was surprised by just how much she could feel. her veins ran with pure emotion, from the most euphoric joy, to merciless, crushing sadness in the space of a few minutes.

what was her purpose now?

immortality surely had to mean more than being a slave to blood magic.

she imagined what toji thought about. he, perhaps wisely, never moved an inch when he settled beneath the ship, arms crossed behind his thick head of hair. she wondered if he was just as painfully thirsty as she was, and was just able to perfectly hide it. what little movements he made were never careless, because toji was far too calculating for that and hated anything unnecessary.

she knew better than to antagonize him.

but the restless part of her was just so incredibly bored.

one day, she couldn’t help herself. she wanted to see just how close toji would let her get. she crept towards him on her hands and knees, knowing full well that he could hear her skin scraping against the wood.

still, he didn’t move.

she was beside him now, gazing down at his face. toji looked serene like this, perfectly still. like death, wonderful and mysterious, not at all what she thought it would be like. he was not unfeeling and cold, there was something beneath his marble stone. she knew that toji was older than her, much older. there was something beautifully ancient about him. the sort of grace that was as timeless as the giant blue whales that used to sing to her of the histories.

but toji was her home in a way the seas had never been.

she reached out into the space between them, wanting – yearning – to feel his skin beneath her fingertips.

when she finally felt the cold touch of his death, toji opened his eyes, bathing her in molten emerald. she melted under his gaze, letting out the tiniest, pathetic whimper. her palm cupped the apple of his cheek, and she worshipped his ichor and perfection. she traced the scar on his lip, memorizing it smoothness, then trailed it along his lips. she smiled widely, childishly, at how freely toji was allowing her to do this.

his green fire spread to her undead heart, and she wetted her lips, throat burning ardently, as her hand settled over his neck.

what would his blood taste like?

would it be cold and sweet? she imagined its ruby redness trickling from between her lips, and–

toji gripped her wrist, a warning blaze setting her aflame as he snarled and flashed his fangs at her.

she stilled, crippling shame filling her.

for a moment, the universe watched with bated breath as the two creatures stared each other down. she submitted to him instantly, dragging herself with haste to the other end of the ship, groping for apologetic words that toji would never understand.

eventually, he grunted dismissively. he slowly pulled himself upright, and nudged his head toward the exit. she turned and stared out through the cracks in the boards behind her.

it was finally night.

⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅

wherever they were in the world, it was the most unremarkable of places.

the humans here were stones hardened into the mould of this desolate place, with no hope of ever leaving. they all lived and died in their sad, grease-riddled town that made its living from the fish in the sea. she knew this because toji had taken her there one day to observe them all from a distance, when the storm clouds were heavy enough to shield them from the sun. their buildings were stained with guts and old blood, and the acrid smell of their oil lamps rose high into the air. the rhythmic sound of fish scales being scraped away was the beating heart of it all.

(she would have cried for them once,

but she did not belong to their world anymore.)

there was a port too, with sullen ships and even more sullen crew sailing them. pirates came and went with the wind, their unmarked sails pitifully flapping in the breeze. they stopped to indulge in whatever bars and brothels were there, always wiping their hands clean on their weather-stained pants when they were done, before hastily escaping back into the sea. perhaps they knew they would be doomed to remain here too if they stayed even a moment longer.

how toji ended up in a place like this, she did not know.

after swimming to shore from his ship, he would leave her on the beach. everytime she attempted to follow, toji would pin her down, shoving her arms deep into the sand and baring his alabaster fangs as a warning. she would pout her lips, petulantly crossing her arms like a child, and he would mumble what she knew were the blackest of curses before stalking off in the direction of the town.

she had no say in the matter.

all she could do was wait there for him to return, and such had been their routine for decades now.

even when her thirst was painful, she would still sprint along the beach, the adoring motherly moonlight kissing her skin. she would wade into the ocean and dive beneath the blackened waves, holding her breath between puffed out cheeks. the darting squid would watch her with their bulbous, intelligent eyes. they used to speak to her once, wrap their tentacles around her throat and tell her stories of creatures from the depths even she had dared not go to.

and now?

they spat their thick ink at her in disgust.

and then she would resurface, relishing in the loneliness of the world, and she would sing again.

to the ocean, and ode to its life and all its cruel misery.

she would sing to the moon, for its silver death and all its mystery.

(and to the king with red eyes.

for it was by his hand that the cards had dealt her a prince.)

her songs for toji came from someplace deep within her. something boundless like fire, or the mist hovering over the sea on the grayest of mornings. she would sing of how he curled over her skin like a storm rolling in from the distance. how he made her emotions rise and fall like the waves, and how she wanted to breath in the dust on his marble skin and keep him inside her forever.

her body would prickle with something unfamiliar.

she wanted to call it love.

but could creatures like them even feel such a thing?

they were predators, killers. they snuffed out love like it was nothing, fed on the ardor in the blood of their prey until the bodies shriveled and there was nothing left but dust.

thud!

she ceased her melody, and turned to face who she already knew was toji returning from the hunt.

there was a man sprawled on the sand reeking of piss and terror and rum. she watched as the moonlight mixed with the bead of sweat running down his temple, dripping down to mix with the crushed shells in the sand.

she tilted her head curiously.

in all these long years, toji had never once brought her a live human.

thump! thump! thump!

her pupils dilated, inky blackness invading the milky sea of her eyes at the sound of the man’s heartbeat.

she had not killed a living thing in so long.

(the red king had sat at the helm,

smiling at the bloody carnage spilled over the oak decking of his ship.)

toji’s eyes were green lanterns in the night, his worn leather boot pressing down hard on the man’s back. she wondered if this was a test – it had to be. toji never did anything without reason, even if she never knew exactly what went on in his mind. he was too cunning for mindless havoc, because then the resulting mess would be uncontrollable, unpredictable.

and toji did not like things to be messy.

the man looked at her, and she cooed at the fear etched into his features like scratchings on a rock. she opened her arms wide like a messiah, her body half-swallowed by the sea.

and started to sing again.

toji’s eyes widened a fraction, his fists tightening into boulders. he lifted his foot from the man’s back, stepping once, then twice backward, his mouth set in a thin line.

(he has heard you sing, and now he shall never let you go.

cried the first woman from long ago.)

she knew the magic was no longer imbued within her voice, because that had been a gift for the living. but death had not made it ugly. it was still a pretty voice, made from ice instead of salt. while she may not be able to drown the mighty ships of pirates any longer, it was still enough to captivate those who would kill for something more beautiful than the dirt they were born in.

the man stumbled forward, much like when she had first emerged from the sea. she smiled fondly as the wind carried her song over the sand dunes. still, the poor human crawled and crept towards her desperately like she was his salvation. the only rone who would soothe away all his troubles, and save him from the doom and demons in the shadows.

was this how toji had felt when she came to him? it was something more than power – godlike, perhaps.

she decided that she liked this feeling.

the man collapsed ungracefully into her arms, tears and snot streaming down both his cheeks like rain, babbling nonsense she could not understand. she cradled him to her chest, hushing him soothingly with a mother’s honeyed tongue. she met toji’s gaze, hoping that he could see just how deliriously grateful she was to him for this gift.

and with that, she fell backward into the sea, the man’s last sound a choking gasp of salt.

the squid darted frantically all around her, the only witnesses to the man’s fate in the darkness of the night sea. they had seen this dance a thousand and one times before; she killed in the death the same way she had in life.

when she had had her fill, she let the man’s body sink and hoped that at least the sharks would be somewhat thankful to her.

even if she would never be able to hear it.

she emerged from the sea, her clothes clinging to her skin like scales. to her surprise, toji was there to greet her, knee deep beneath the waves. he was a haunting vision of an angels grandeur, more than all that was considered beautiful in the world. breathlessly, she smiled at him, sinful blood coating her teeth and tongue.

he took a step toward her, and she to him.

toji moved his head to the side, his marble jaw flashing in the moon, and hummed. she could tell he was pleased by the tremble of his lips that threatened to curl upward, and the flare of his nostrils as he breathed her in.

his hand reached out to her, cupping her jaw, and quickly pushed his thumb between her parted lips. she gasped against his skin as he rubbed it over her teeth and the pearly points of her fangs, and removed it from her mouth with a provocative pop!

slowly, toji brought it to his own lips.

and sucked.

she watched him, utterly transfixed as the midnight moon, as he relished the taste of iron and salt.

in that moment, she decided to give toji her soul to him if she had one. she would submit herself to the justice of michael’s sun and fire to be with him forever, even if was just for a chance to be loved by him until the end of time on this miserable land in the vast world.

“do you want me to sing again?” she asked, hoping he understood.

toji only hummed in response, the faintest hint of a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

she did it anyway.

⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅

to love toji was to love a storm.

its chilling anticipation, waiting for it to hit her so she could feel something. to be in its green eye, for the rain to carelessly slash her skin, and the waves to bash against her – and still love and endure it regardless. because to weather a storm was to be strong, to be worthy enough, and it would love her all the more for it.

(or perhaps,

see her as a challenge to break.)

and when the storm passed, it meant they would thrive together.

toji had continued to bring her one starved man after the other, sometimes even two at a time, all far too eager to take their chances with her rather than him. they were pirates, forgettable and disposable, and all met death in the sea that they claimed to love more than anything. toji had noticed quite quickly how easily they came to her, how willingly.

there was no struggle, no mess.

and so, that was how they hunted.

together.

something in her haunting song had cracked through toji’s wall. before dawn, satiated from the hunt, they were a tangled mess of limbs and panting breaths – dancing, wandering hands of liquid gold looking for a crevice to settle in. when they made love, toji never faced her, hissing if she tried to look at him, and a small part of her soul would wither into a burnt, blackened rose. still, she desperately drank in whatever he decided to give her, and that was decidedly good enough.

(you are nothing in the grand schemings of the green serpent in the garden,

sighed the first women from long ago.)

their days were still spent mostly in silence, though sometimes he allowed her to rest beside him. she did not understand toji, how his passion only seemed to awaken after his bloodlust had been quenched – after she had led the sailors to their deaths. the very moment the sun appeared, that part of him was locked away in a chest and thrown to the bottom of the sea, only to be dragged back to the surface when the moon returned.

she began to loathe the sun for entirely different reasons.

still, love for toji was where she found herself. if anything in this mortal world could make her undead heart beat once more, it was that love. so, she took all his faults and smothered them in sugar, and swallowed them down anyway. if toji did not love her, then he wouldn’t make her feel so alive when the moon came out to play. he would not have bothered with anything at all if he did not feel something, even if it was just a flicker of candlelight.

at least, that is how she rationalized it to herself.

they were both lying below deck, with her running through those very conflicting thoughts in her head when she heard it.

thump! thud, thud… thump!

she parted her lips and tasted the air on her tongue.

intruders.

on their ship, in broad daylight.

she sat up abruptly and whirled around to look at toji.

but he had already disappeared.

he was much faster than she, and was probably already tucked away somewhere in between the dusty maze of crates and chests. the footsteps grew louder as the stranger passed directly over her head, and she swallowed nervously. her mind raced, and throat burned viciously with thirst.

where could she hide?

rattle! clink, clink!

the metal latches on the doors were being disturbed.

there was nowhere to go, but she knew that when those doors opened, the holy sun of heaven would surely kill her. she spied a large chest, half-open and draped with worn sheets covering it, and dove toward it.

and not a moment too soon.

the doors swung open, and she winced as a dull beige light filtered through the sheet. there were three of them, their figures outlined as blurry browned shadows through the seams. one wore an ostentatious hat with a feather peeking out from the top, and something about his sword, sheathed in a black leather scabbard, set her teeth on edge.

something menacing.

something that could hurt her – toji.

her lips curled back over her gums, baring her fangs in a silent snarl.

they were moving deeper and deeper into the maze of crates, their backs gradually turned to her and their doom.

she pounced.

michael’s sword of light seared her exposed neck and arms, but it did not deter her from latching onto one of the smaller intruders and sinking her teeth into his neck. the man screamed, clawing desperately at her face as he slipped backwards in surprise. the other two whirled around, and the one with the hat unsheathed his sword to reveal gleaming, cruel silver.

together, the four of them danced around each other to the tune of blood and silver. for every weeping bite she left, the captain slashed her with his sword. she didn’t know it could be possible, but the pain from his strikes hurt her more than the sun did. it was a chaotic scuffle, born from instinct and the sheer will to survive.

but still, the humans could never hope to endure salt and ice.

with a final thrust, the captain twisted his sword into her shoulder, his life force fading violently as his essence poured down into her throat. she slumped down to the ground, holding the human close as she took in the aftermath of their fight.

the ship was a mess.

blood was splattered across the crates and boards, with the mangled bodies of the three men scattered and sinking down into every crack in the ship, spilling straight down to the sea beneath them. she clicked her locked jaw, and detached herself from her assailant, and hurried to tuck herself away into a half-open crate, whimpering from the pain of the burning sun blisters and stinging silver.

she was not healing.

there was a rustling of sheets somewhere, a great rush of wind, and the doors slammed shut with a loud bang!

she collapsed forward, her eyes bathed in cooling darkness, gasping and coughing as the wood uncomfortably scraped her open sores. she blinked, and saw toji’s crinkled boots in front of her.

her love was perfectly balanced on the balls of his feet, looking down at her with his hands and face clean of both blood and worry. she whimpered pathetically at toji, begging and pleading with her eyes for him to do something, anything.

he sighed.

gently, toji turned her to face him, and tipped her chin back. he pushed the base of his thumb past her parted lips, settling it in between her teeth. he gave her an encouraging nod, soft clouds behind the green of his iris, and pressed his thumb a touch further into her mouth.

she froze.

her fangs grazed his marble skin, and a pearl of toji’s blood spread across her tongue.

what was that look in his eyes?

it was something almost like pride.

she took a deep breath in, and took a long slow drag from him.

she was then lost in a sea of tumbling emeralds. his blood had ignited something feral and dangerous in her, working her up into a wild state as her wounds sealed and smoothed out like nothing had happened. somehow, toji’s lips had found hers, and they kissed and bit each other’s lips in a frenzied madness.

was it all just for a taste?

she couldn’t tell if toji was life or death.

(she was too far gone in her sin and indulgence,

that she could not tell the difference anymore.)

there was something inherently intimate about blood sharing. she could not explain it, but it was more profound than when they fell into each others embrace every night. toji was gripping both sides of her face, her lips bloody and bruised as she tasted herself on his tongue. perhaps it was her imagination, but she felt toji’s soul running through her – raw and angry and full of smoke.

she wondered what he thought she tasted like.

and hoped that he enjoyed it.

⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅

immortality was not truly immortal.

death still hovered over them with his scythe, a mere inch away from their waiting, vulnerable throats. nobody knew that he was there, always watching, never knowing exactly when he might urge his midnight stallion just a little closer.

she certainly hadn’t known it either.

not until it was upon her.

they were on a beach sometime during the summer, a thick storm cloud hanging over the sea and shore. it was a taunting, teasing thing, making her jump as the thunder rolled through her bones and made her marrow tremble.

toji was lounging beneath a lopsided palm tree, its trunk bent and twisted so that its leaves draped to the side and covered him. even when the clouds cover was as thick as it was now, he still opted to stay in the shade, squinting his eyes as if the sun was burning him. he would watch her play in the waves, grunting dismissively when she would teasingly curl her fingers at him, urging him to come closer.

when that didn’t work, she would sing for him.

and the creases and ripples in the marble of his forehead would soften and smooth – only then could toji relax in the sun.

she turned her back to him and the shore, spreading her arms to the heavens as she sang to the jealous sea, declaring how grand immortality and their love was.

but she should have remembered where she was in this unfeeling world.

so loud was the call of the birds on the summer breeze and the waves beating against the sand and her ears, that she did not hear them until it was too late.

those horrid, vicious humans.

they had grabbed her by the arms and legs, with what seemed like twenty men still struggling against her strength. she spat and cursed at them, hissing and snarling as they pressed their silver crosses and flaming torches to her skin, marring her forever.

she wanted to cry, but remembered she could not.

toji’s green flames were upon her, she was sure of it. she could feel his presence was near, and could still smell him and his leather boots through the sour stench of the rotten fish from the townsmen surrounding her.

he was watching.

and doing nothing.

would toji be proud of her in this moment, as he had been when she defended him all those years ago? when she took the lives of those that had threatened him and his peace. she felt the flames soften and knew that he was – he had to be. she was sparing him from the fire and silver, so eager to take his place and save him from haunting the seas.

it was better that toji had not said any sort of goodbye at all, that they had not shared any sort of special last moment together.

but still.

a part of her hoped that he would sweep in to save her. that the part of him that had perhaps loved her could not bear to be parted from her. that immortality was worthless without her love and song.

but she knew that was not in his nature.

he was a survivor, through and through.

(how could it have been love? you were just as blind as i was,

wailed the first woman from long ago.)

she wondered if he would come to her after she was gone, as a stake was driven into her chest, shattering and splintering her ribcage. would he pluck out her heart and suck it dry from all the love it had for him? even though toji had taken everything and more from her, she wondered if he had at least realized he had been selfishly incapable of putting her out of her misery.

“お許しください”

but the fragile, momentous realization she had was that if immortality was true, and she had to choose to relive all of this – toji – over and over again.

she would.

and she did.

⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅

if anybody would like to pop into my inbox to discuss the fic and share their interpretations, please feel free to do so! <3

©storiesoflilies 2024, all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on other sites! i only post on ao3 and tumblr.

[trashogram]

He Chose You (End)

Lucifer/Reader: Lucifer chooses you to be the mother of his child. Rated Explicit.

(There will be a short epilogue after this, but we’ve basically reached the end! Thank you so much to everyone who read, liked, commented and reblogged this fic! I had so much fun writing it!!!)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End

“ADAM!”

Light from below your feet rose, blinding you as the glassy exterior of Heaven’s floor dissolved into nothing. 

     The collective screaming, gasping, shouting made your ears ring. It was so loud that you had no choice but to drop the ax to muffle the sound with your hands. Lucifer called for you, but you could do nothing as your senses became overloaded with the sights, the sounds — the smell and taste of angel blood that you couldn’t describe, though it fizzled on your tongue and made your lips pucker. 

Falling reminded you of diving into the deep end of a pool as everything around you started to dull just as soon as it reached a fever pitch. 

      Adam’s corpse bled out, gold dripping into the firelight that swallowed you up. 

      Sera stood head and shoulders above the rest, shrunken pupils flashing upon you. 

      Thunder rumbled over your skin. 

Your sight returned, revealing a billow of darkened clouds above. Lightening rippled through them here and there, but you found yourself unable to do so much as shiver at the close proximity. Something was keeping you paralyzed, hands still clasped over your ears and legs still stuck flexing as they had when you decapitated Adam. 

     Eyes flitting about, the only things free from the forced stillness, you saw that the light that overtook you had expanded, surrounding you like a forcefield. 

   This wasn’t a fall. Not really. Whatever this was was yanking you down with a strength that rivaled gravity.

You can never come back!

              You can never come back!

                              You can never come back!

Sera’s voice was immediately overtaken by your name, shouted out from above you. 

Feathers thrown in disarray, raining on and all around you before you caught sight of Lucifer racing toward you. The frightening sound of a boom like the aftermath of a bomb dropping followed his propulsion, rattling your bones and shifting the energy that cocooned you. 

      He circled round and round the energy field that you could not escape, until he was right beside you. 

Lucifer slammed himself against the barrier between him and yourself. Determination set in his eyes that were now completely normal, totally focused on getting through to you. 

     You tried to communicate the fear you felt with your eyes. It was steadily consuming you as you remained frozen while color and light changed every few seconds. Everything outside of your comet’s tail was growing darker and harder to define. 

     When darkness swallowed up the Devil, you weren’t able to scream. 

“I got ya!” 

Lucifer’s voice broke through before you saw him, crashing into the barrier once again. The light shattered like glass, but you felt solid arms wrapped around your body. Familiar hands gripped you around the shoulders and back, beneath your frozen wings. 

      You gasped, inhaling greedily. 

The blond took your desperate bid to wrap your arms around his neck and press him as close to you as possible in stride. 

      It was a struggle to speak. “I couldn’t breathe!”

“I know! I know, I know, I remember it being like that.” Lucifer said, hand running through your hair. “But it's gonna be okay! The pain won’t last for too long after you hit the ground.” 

You looked at him with watery eyes, lungs burning. “Oh god, Lucifer. I’m so sorry!” 

You hugged him with renewed vigor, tears streaming upward. He clung onto you with equal if not more fervor. 

      “You’re sorry?” He asked. “What d’you… why?” 

When you pulled away, Lucifer was staring at you in concern. 

“I’m sorry you have to experience this again.” You said. “I didn’t even think about it. I-I-I just, I got so desperate and I just wanted out and I wanted to be with you! I didn’t think—”

The devil instantly shook his head, hand cupping your cheek. “No, no, no. It’s okay, don’t apologize. There’s no reason to—hah…” 

     Lucifer was also in tears, giving you a wobbly smile. “I’d fall every day until the end of time for you.” 

You fell into him then, sobbing in earnest as he kept up with you serenely. You were both careening down through the ether, free falling now that your body had been freed from whatever was initially binding you. And you didn’t have a single thought aside from staying with this perfectly wonderful being that had had the audacity to actually love you. 

.

        .

                .

                        .

                               .

“We’re headed right for the portal.” Lucifer told you eventually. “We’ll pass right through and into Hell.” 

     He kept his hold on you, but you couldn’t help noticing that Lucifer had maneuvered himself to be beneath your body in the order of your descent. 

“Will we hit the ground?” You asked, the image of making an impact on the hard ground coming unbidden. 

The image of Lucifer taking the brunt of the trauma set your heart racing. Your wings twitched. You willed them to start flapping as they had in Heaven but there was only the vaguest feeling of their roots flexing. 

    Fuck’s sake. 

         You felt panic bleeding back into your body again and you fruitlessly attempted to pull Lucifer ‘up’. The King started to speak, but the adrenaline was filling you up. 

“Lou—!”

    A sudden shift from black to red (and warmth, sensation, clouds!) and the sound barrier breaking silenced you.

Lucifer’s full set of wings extended before you, arching back to make a powerful sweep upward before he rolled the both of you right side up again. 

     You were back to clinging onto him, squeaking. You heard him chuckle in your ear at the same time you realized that that powerful force-field of light had disappeared. 

“Sorry sweetie.” Lucifer murmured. “I didn’t mean to scare you!” 

     He hovered in the air with you in his arms, patient as you worked up the courage to pull away and look around. 

     Hell’s sky was a deep, deep red. Clouds of a softer shade floated past, little pinpoints of light that might be stars pricked the sky, and a large black moon sat adjacent to the teeming mass of light that you and Lucifer had just fallen from. 

Below you, slices of angular, beaming light zigzagged in a mildly familiar shape. When your eyes adjusted, it clicked instantly that there was a pentagram poised a little ways from you, and under that…

  The pentagram was bright, but through it shone bright lights from the city underneath. Your eyes widened, taking in the chaotic, clashing architecture of the Pride Ring. It was harrowing and strange, the sounds of screaming and laughter somehow audible in spite of the distance. 

     Amidst the sensory overload you found yourself comparing it to Las Vegas. 

           Lucifer nuzzled your cheek, bringing you back to the present. Head lifting so that you are able to look at him fully, you couldn’t help but smile. 

“Helluva a welcome.” You teased, earning a grin from the blond. 

“Ah!” Lucifer startled when you tugged him bodily in your direction. Your wings fluttered quickly with the return of feeling in your muscles, and you glided back with the Devil in your arms.  

You spun him round, twirling in mid-air, until Lucifer laughed with you. The two of you danced together over the glowing pentagram as though it were a stage.

——

There was no need to further tire yourselves as Lucifer conjured up a shimmering portal into his castle. You could feel the exhaustion of all that had transpired weighing you down before you were led into what would soon become your new home. 

    The opulence and splendor of the Devil’s palace could not be understated. It was gargantuan. His personal restroom alone rose higher than high and would have been roomy enough for everyone that had lived on your floor in the Donner apartment. 

     However, the most you could offer after the day’s events was a drawn-out yawn and a mental note to be amazed at everything later. 

Lucifer half-led, half-dragged you toward one of the sinks in his private bath. He left you only long enough to grab a number of towels and washcloths that piled so high in his arms they obstructed his view. 

      You giggled softly at the sight of rags being rushed over on a pair of short legs, and feebly offered your help. 

Ooh. Not rags — these towels were pure silk. 

The blond positioned you to face him and began to clean you up, scanning your face for any cuts or bruises. You admired him drowsily, trying to do the same. He simply pecked your fingers when they wandered over his cheek, but otherwise stayed focused to tend to you. 

      Silk slid over your face, wiping away the stain of angelic blood from your chin and down the side of your throat. Lucifer passed the cloth over you with utmost care, all while you stared at him silently. 

     It was only when he became aware of your intense staring that you gave into the urge to kiss him again. 

The Devil seemed to have the same idea, mouth already parting for you. Your stomach flip-flopped at the telltale slip of his forked tongue against yours.                    You breathed him in, lips moving against his in between brief inhales, desperate not to part for even one second. 

     Lucifer whined into your mouth, hands rushing to dig into your hips and pull you in. He ran his hands over you, petting at every inch of your body, heavenly wardrobe catching on your hips, over your breasts, around your thighs. It drove you mad, wishing that the damn clothing was off and away. Memories of Lucifer buried inside you, smothering you into the mattress could not compare to the real thing just within reach. 

      You bent over to follow him, teeth clicking against each other as you continued to devour him and his noises. Another whine had you gripping the base of his skull, newly-formed claws digging through his hair. The flush that Lucifer inspired under your skin ran hot; so hot that the feeling of his cold hands against your bare skin shocked you. 

      Glazed-over crimson eyes met yours when you broke away from him abruptly, confused and yearning while you fought to calm yourself down. He too was flushed… in gold. Golden blood. 

“Lucifer…” You swallowed. “We need… we need to get Charlotte…” 

The King hummed, slow on the uptake. But soon his darkened gaze lit up with recognition. 

“Ch… Charlotte!” He exclaimed. “Right! We gotta get our baby!”

You snorted at the theatrics, fondness settling deep down inside your chest. 

———

     Lucifer let you squeeze his hand as tightly as you pleased while the flames licked over you both. You fought not to manhandle him again, wanting to be brave. At least the change from ornate, colossal palace to inside of the old Donner apartment fireplace was over in a flash. 

     The firebox had warped, growing in size until it was large enough for you and Lucifer to walk through. Briefly you wondered why you had never noticed such a thing happening during Lucifer’s countless visits, but perhaps it was a trick that humans didn’t pick up on. 

Or perhaps Lucifer was short enough that the large fireplace hadn’t had to change so much for him alone. 

     (You didn’t know how to feel about being at least a head taller than Lucifer now. It was another thing filed under ‘To Address Later’ in your mind.) 

Mr. And Mrs. Farrow were not waiting for you when you stepped into their home. They were nowhere to be found. 

But a baby’s cry was coming from further back in the apartment. 

     You dashed toward the noise, with Lucifer at your heels. It led you to the outlet where you’d been only once before, and you were happy for small miracles because so much of this unit was unfamiliar to you, courtesy of your desire to avoid the kooks that had initiated you into their bizarre dealings with the literal Prince of Darkness. 

When you arrived at the spare room, it was practically pitch black. Tea candles had been re-lit here and there, but they barely distinguished the silhouettes of two very frantic, knee-high toys-turned-sentient. 

     The little creatures moved like phantoms in the dark. One was steadily pushing the baby bassinet from side to side, attempting to soothe the crying child within. 

The other was levitating at the edge of the bassinet, staring worriedly at the baby, clearly agitated before it realized that someone had entered the room. 

     Your eyes had already adjusted to the dim little room — purposefully avoiding the cot that lay on the opposite side of Charlotte’s cradle. There was no possible way to prepare for seeing your own corpse, if it was still there. You had chosen to banish the possibility from your mind, and hadn’t dared to bring it up to Lucifer lest he grow agitated if the thought hadn’t already occurred to him. 

You focused on the present. On your child. And the goat butlers that your Love had spontaneously breathed life into. 

“You really are alive.” You said softly in awe. 

     The little goat that had been watching Charlotte from above seemed to recognize you. He floated back down, and allowed you to run your hand over his head as you stepped up to the bassinet, momentarily feeling the fuzz of his red fur. His brother followed, and they bowed, both for you and Lucifer as well as out of your way. 

     Had you been less single-minded in getting to your daughter, you might’ve laughed at the look of relief on their faces. Taking care of a newborn without thumbs couldn’t be easy. 

When you pulled back the little curtains of the pram, you felt as if the wind had been knocked out of you. 

     Your beautiful baby. Your little Charlotte — she was reaching up, crying to be taken out and held. 

Without a thought, you obliged her. 

“It’s alright. It’s alright now.” You whispered, fingers smoothing over her porcelain forehead. “Mama’s here. Mama’s got you.” 

It was stunning to be able to actually touch your child, caress her soft skin and feel her yellow hair on your fingertips. She was truly like a tiny doll, with two dollops of pale red on either side of her cherubic cheeks. 

     You pushed down the compulsion to cry. Everything has happened so fast that you hadn’t had time to recognize what you would be missing upon your death. If you hadn’t done what you did, you wouldn’t have gotten to hold Charlotte ever again. 

You could feel Lucifer’s presence just behind you before he was at your side, solid and comforting. Whatever regrets you may have entertained about leaving Heaven vanished then and there. 

     Charlotte’s cries were dying down, turning into minute whimpers and hiccups. Her eyes opened in the middle of your slow rocking back and forth, focusing on you. 

You beamed. “Hello baby.” 

    She gurgled, barely a blink before a wide, gummy smile of remembrance animated her formerly tear-stricken face. A laugh stuttered out of you, thick with emotion while Charlotte wiggled in her swaddling blanket. The spade of her tail poked out of the confines and tapped against your forearm with delight. 

Charlotte looked from you to Lucifer as he leaned in, having shuffled around so that he was able to embrace you, Charlotte nestled safe and snug between your bodies. She squealed with happiness, eliciting more laughter. 

“Let’s go home.”

****

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[hee0soo]

Children of the Sea

Pairing — KimHongjoongxafab!Reader

Summary — Living in a small town where everyone knew eachother, visitors were quickly recognized and sometimes freedom loving young women were especially drawn to said visitors... or maybe just their captain...

Genre — fluff, angst, smut, Pirate AU

Warnings — oral, fingering, penetrative sex , death, alcoholism, death by burning, death in childbirth

Word Count — 13.3k

Rating — nsfw

A/n: Thank you @caelesjjk for the wonderful header! <33

Disclaimer: this fic is written and copyrighted by ©hee0soo on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other plattforms without my permission.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED!

"To be free means to be independent, not to be influenced by what others think or say!"

Those words were ringing in your ears as you stared over the edge of the cliff and down into the dark water that came crashing into the rocky surface of the stone in giant waves. Sat up there, you could almost make yourself believe that your life was good! That it was how you wanted it do be! But it wasn't. Far from it actually!

You were no fool. You knew that other girls your age were long married of to the richest suitor, waiting to bare their children and become the perfect little housewife! The thought alone send shivers down your spine. Remembering what it had done to your own mother, how she had withered away during those months she had carried your little brother in her womb only to tragically bleed out on while giving birth made your fingers dig into the soil and grass you sat on!

There were still moments where you thought you could hear her screams of said summer day echo through the night, making you miss her so much more. The nightmares her desperate screams had cause little 9 year old you had followed you for ages and the way it had suddenly been silent in your little cottage still haunted you to this day...

Years later is where you found yourself still mourning her soothing touch as she ran her gentle hand over your face when you had woken up from a bad dream as a child. You mourned the songs she had sang to you that you would never be able to hear again and how your little brother would never hear it at all...

Jungwon was the definition of soft, sunny and innocent, the carbon copy of who your mother had been as a person! Something your father had come to despise more and more the older the boy became. The man hated his sons soft nature, trying to make the perfect man out of the 11 year old but seemingly failing at it! Much to distracted to care for the disappointment of a daughter he had, the old man spend his days screaming, drinking and barely keeping the family Inn out of debts. The fact that it was you who kept things truly running, went ignored. Not that you cared anyways.

Enjoying the breeze of cold sea wind tugging at your face and the fabric of your skirts, you let out a long exhausted breath. The sun, drowning the scenery in a orange glowing hue was setting already and it was time to return home.

You got up, grass stains visible on your dress, looking back at the sea wondering what else could be out there for you. Probably nothing, but you liked to imagine that there was something else waiting for you out there then the sheltered and lonely life you had here. Your eyes focused on the ship sailing towards land and you couldn't help but stare for a moment longer. There was something about it that captured your interest!

Shaking yourself out of the trance you were in you quickly ran back to the village. It was almost time for dinner and you were not planning to let Jungwon go to bed on an empty stomach. That you were going to work all night without any food for yourself went ignored. You were used to it at this point and your brother needed it more, he was a growing boy after all.

Jungwons face visibly brightened at the sight of you appearing in your kitchen. His shaggy brown hair artfully braided back to prevent it from falling into his eyes and the big smile tugged at your heart. You couldn't help but brush your fingers over the side of his face as you past him and got ready to serve the admittedly sparse dinner of bread, cheese and a little meat to the 2 men of the family. The grim look on the old mans face didn't bothered you in the slightest. The smell of alcohol on him however did! It meant that he was already drunk and that you would probably have to work until the early morning hours again without him showing up to help out!

"An where wee you again?" the man hollowed, speech already slurred which told you all you needed to know.

"Helping Madame Delacroix with the new delivery of fruits. She promised to bring some over tomorrow." you said sounding utterly unimpressed by the tone of his voice. It wasn't a lie! Before you had wandered of and watched the sunset, you had helped the older woman you called your neighbor. And you didn't plan on telling where else you had been. Instead you winked at your little brother who had to hide a giggle as he took a bite from the slice of bread you had put in front of him.

 Your father huffed annoyed, looking at the food with disgust. Long used to the complaints of the bread being to dry or the meat being tasteless you busied yourself with listening to Jungwon telling you about his day instead. The happiness that radiated from him was almost contagious.

"Will you read me a bed time story later?" the boy wanted to know and promptly pouted when you shook your head.

"Why nooot?" he whined.

"I'm sorry Wonnie, but I'll be at the Inn already when you go to bed later."

It was evident that the child didn't like that but he accepted defeat quickly, knowing that arguing would get him nowhere.  "Ah don be such a wuss boy! Your sistr shouln be coddling ya so much, you weak nough already..."

Could looks kill, your father would have fallen out of his seat right then and there! Not that he wasn't close to falling of it anyway.

"Ignore him!" you mouthed at him and received a nod in return.

Soon the food was gone and without a word your father staggered out of the kitchen, almost falling over in the process. Where to you didn't know and you didn't want to.

"Will you be okay alone? You know that you have to lock the doors and to-"

"To come to the Inn and stay with you if there's something wrong? Yes I know sister, don't worry I'm a strong boy with a dagger!"

Of course he knew the rules, you had made sure of that early on. It wasn't safe, by far not but with the way things were you didn't have another choice and you had to trust that nothing would happen.

Taking a step towards Jungwon, brushed your hand over his head and placed a kiss on his temple. "Someday things will be different l promise!"

"I know and now go! I will be fine and father is here too."

That wasn't as reassuring to you as he thought but you nodded, a pained smile grazed your lips as you left. Your stomach was growling and you hoped that you could snag a bowl of stir-fry from the Inn kitchen later on.

The way wasn't far and you were the first one there to open the establishment. Soon 3 coworkers would arrive to cover their shifts for the night but as the daughter of the boss that never showed his face, you took on that role.

The candles were already lit up when the first one arrived. Yoongi, your head chef , could be compared with a grumpy cat! Ready to strike at any given moment but still lovable and in need of some head scratches.

And then there was Hyunjin, flirty and always ready for a chat. Oh and always ready to either punch or kiss Jisung, the man who came in only to bother the waiter you called your best friend. You were sure that the two were somehow involved with each other but both firmly denied that.

He waved shortly and helped you sweep the floor once more before you opened  and then vanished in the back. Hyunjin liked the dramatics of always being falling through the door just minutes before you turned the Closed-sign around to show Open instead and so, like always he flew in right when you wanted to turn the sign around. He apologized hurriedly and promised to never let that happen again. It caused Yoongi to laugh loudly from the back. As if. The dark mark sucked into the skin of his throat almost glowing!

The evening went and the night began and with it customers started pouring in. You knew most of them, it was a small down after all and nothing out of the ordinary happened.

It was the usual. Men came into get drunk or have their fun with the ladies searching for a good time and strip those idiots of their money, as long as there was no drama you didn't care or the occasional traveler searching for a room to sleep in and a warm meal. Nothing out of the Ordinary until the door opened and in came 4 men that were complete strangers to you. One glance to Hyunjin told you that he too was clueless to who they were. They looked like trouble as they sat down at the bar where you were making sure that drinks were being filled so Hyunjin could quickly deliver them to the tables.

Thankfully they kept to themselves for the most part. The shrieking laugh from one of them however could clearly be heard in the entire Inn! You would lie if you said that the first time didn't surprise you so much that you almost dropped the jug of beer you were filling causing Hyunjin to almost drop to the floor laughing. Quickly whacking him with a towel you made sure he knew how displeased you were and you hoped they hadn't noticed your little moment.

"What can I get you gentlemen?" Leaning against bar counter you looked at them expectantly.

Four pairs of dark brown eyes found your e/c ones with various degrees of surprise or interest.

The loud one was sitting there, wide-eyed and open mouth as if he had just wanted to say something. His black hair framed his face beautifully, not a piece out of line.

The tallest one—with honey-blonde hair sticking up wildly—had his head propped up on his ring-clad fingers. His white shirt was only halfway buttoned up, exposing the entirety of his very toned chest.

Next to him was another black haired one with mesmerizingly soft features that reminded you of your mother; and last, but not least, the one that glared at you, very unimpressed.

His silver hair was short at the sides and long on top, tied back with chains of black, white, and what seemed to be a gold chain. His ears were adorned with multiple earrings and a face reminding you of the fairies in old tales…

"Uhm, 3 beers and 1 whiskey please?" the tall one said, sounding unexpectedly shy even with his deep voice and you turned to look at him instead of staring at his fairy friend.

"Sure. Want anything else? Maybe some food?"

3 of them shook their heads while their friend was still not taking his eyes off of you.

"Here you go! Tell me if you need anything else!" You put the filled jugs and the glass down in front of them. "Thank you darlin."

Surprised by the higher pitched voice of the glaring stranger, your eyes found his again. It fit him well. You had to admit that he was handsome and definitely your type as he swirled the whiskey around in his glass with a calmness you envied him for.

You bit your lip, quickly turning away to get away from the situation.

A little further, old Jinyoung was hitting the bar like he tried to catch flies to get your attention. You rolled your eyes. The man was a regular and regularly he drank himself under the table, tumbling out of the Inn almost blackout drunk only to come back the next day and repeat it all over again. That’s how it had been ever since you were old enough to work for your father. He was nice, at least when he got what he wanted, but also very loud and had the tendency to flirt with everything that had legs.

"Aye girl, don ya look lovely today. How bout ya give an old man like me nother refill?" Jinyoung slurred, followed by a burp that had you grimacing at the smell.

"Don't you think you had enough already? I'm sure your wife is waiting for you." With furrowed brows he waved you off. "Don kid yaself girl!"

Hyunjin caught your eyes from across the room, balancing a tray of empty bowls and jugs as he made his way into the kitchen to rinse them clean. The waiter had never been a fan of the drunk man who continued rambling about the hardships of his life and marriage and tried to stay seated upright.

"Just throw him out. Man is wasted enough as it is and probably won't remember tonight at this point. Not like that's anything new..." he suggested in passing. Not bothering to answer him, instead you watched the old man eventually do tip over only to be caught be the loud shrieking stranger.

Huffing, you thought about it. Maybe your friend was right and you should send him on his way to sober up. A shudder ran down your spine at the thought of possibly provoking an argument.

"Ahh, Jinyoung-ssi, I think you had enough for tonight... Maybe come back tomorrow but I think you should go home and sleep a little."

A deep frown fell upon the mans face after the words had registered in his foggy brain.

"Thas not on ya to descide foolish girl!" he snapped, words barely audible at this point. "N' now gimme 'nother!"

Customers were turning their heads to see what the commotion was about, only to turn back to their own tables when they recognized who the cause of it was they were all used to the antics of the drunkard. The side eye he received from the four men beside him almost made you snort.

"I don't think so. Please leave my Inn and sober up."

Reaching for the jug, you planned to take it from him. Although horribly intoxicated, his reflex in grabbing onto your arm was still sharp and a dull pain made itself known.

"Let my arm go, now!" you hissed lowly, eyes focused on his hand tightly holding onto your wrist.

Not reacting to your demand, his grip only got tighter. The pain only getting stronger. You winced.

"Let go!"

Jinyoung growled,  sounding much like a wild animal at the moment.

"I think the Lady told ya to let go of her just now…”

Shocked by the sudden help, your head whirled around to where the silver haired man was taking a sip of his glass, effectively emptying it in the process and slamming onto the counter. The noise left the man still holding onto you startled, giving you the chance to try and twist yourself out of his hold!

Glaring at the much younger man Jinyoung snarled, "Non of ya business!" only to turn back to you.

"Now about tha beer girl-"

 The sound of a blade hitting the wooden surface of your bar cut him off. The silver haired stranger twisted a dagger between his fingers, reflecting the light of the candles brightly. The unspoken threat hanging in the air loud and clear.

"Captain!" his deep voiced companion warning quietly, receiving a blow to the side from the black haireds elbow.

“Ya gonna let her go now?"

The pressure on your arm went away but you could still feel his fingers lingering on it. Teeth bared, the man pulled out o few coins clumsily, dropped them on the counter. Stumbling out the door. while curses escaped him on the way out.

Turning back to them, you watched the stranger put his dagger aside. Eyes catching his, you nodded in acknowledgment to thank him. For a split second you thought you could see the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. Giving you the slightest hint of a smile!

Things calmed down again. Only your nerves were still a little unsettled, making you inhale to calm yourself.

It was already early in the morning and people slowly started to leave until everyone safe for you, Hyunjin and Yoongi were left to clean up. The first rays of the morning sun illuminated the Inn already when you were finally able to closeup and say goodbye to the two men.

Tired and ready to fall into bed until you had to get up again, you went straight past your snoring father who had passed out on the stairs it seemed, checked on Jungwon one last time before you your door behind you.

Sleep however didn't come easy, even with the blanket pulled up to your nose. The fabric felt unusual scratchy on your skin.

Your thoughts began to wander as you turned and twisted to find a position comfortable enough to let you fall asleep. They went back to the whiskey drinking captain. For the rest of the night you had felt him watching your every move up until they left again. It had left you more flustered then you would like to admit!

His piercing stare seemed to haunt you even now! You would be lying if you said you weren't intrigued as well. But now it was to late. The handsome stranger was gone and the chance of running into him again was close to none...

---------

 3 Days later you were on the way to buy some much needed food at the market down at the docks! The fisher boats were out at sea at this time of day so there weren’t that many ships there today, safe for one you had never seen before.

It looked familiar in a way and although you couldn’t pinpoint where you had seen it before, you felt an energy radiating off of it that mesmerized you!

Even early in the morning, the streets were already filled with people who -just like you- were running errands. Buzzing with life that forced you to navigate through the crowd,  empty  pressed closely to your front to prevent sneaky hands from stealing from right under your nose.

"How are you dear one? How is little Jungwon doing today?" Taeyeon, the bakers wife asked excided to see you. Stroking her swollen stomach ever so gently with her hand, she handed a still warm Loaf of bread to you.

"We are doing ok, thank you for asking! How's the baby doing in there? Still keeping you awake?" The older woman took the offered coins, nodding at your question.

"They sure do! I just hope they won't do the same once they're born..."

Knowing full well that she would probably get even less sleep then now soon, Taeyeon laughed.

You weren't one to indulge in the business of others, not if you could avoid it at least. But something about the bakers wife just warmed your heart. You couldn't help but admire her! She was one of the few women who did not let anyone decide for her! Someone who was smart, confident and very vocal about the unfair treatment women got from most men! Her marriage wasn't arranged, she had refused that early on and fought tooth and nails when her parents had suggested that as a young girl!

That was what you wanted too!

"And concerning your order for the Inn, it will be ready for you to pickup later today. Or do you need my husband to deliver it?"

You shook your head. No Yoongi already volunteered to pick it up the day prior on his way to work, meaning there was no need to cause any more work for them. "Okay, just tell us if you need anything else!"

The woman hurried to tend to the next customer leaving you to continue your own shopping. Still having to get some fresh milk, fish and herbs, you turned on your heel and ran straight into the firm chest of the man standing behind you.

Almost dropping the bread, your hand flew up to rest over your racing heart. His own holding onto your elbows to avoid you hitting the ground.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry, I wasn't watch -" You stopped in your tracks, recognizing the man who had threatened Jinyoung just a few days ago.

"Ya okay, nothing happened."  He rasped, looking just as handsome as a few nights ago, voice sending a pleasant shudder over your skin. His eyes lit up, clearly recognizing you.

Ignoring the annoyed complaints from around you because you just stood there without any implication of moving along. Your could feel your heart racing underneath where your palm rested still. Now that you stood right in front of him and there was no counter separating you from him for entirely different reasons then just surprise! He was close enough that you could feel the warmth of his skin through the fabric of his shirt and his breath his your face, making you heat up rapidly as his focus trailed from your eyes to your mouth, down to the low cut neckline where he caught a glimpse of your cleavage and backup. Your cheeks were burning! 

It took a moment for you to come back to reality. The reality that you were pressed right against a total stranger! You! An unmarried women! It was enough to take a step back and his hold loosened.

For the first time his face relaxed and a friendly yet dangerous smile crossed his face.

"Ya the owner of the Inn right?" he mused.

"The owners daughter actually! You really helped me out a few days ago, thank you again for that…”

Moving along you thanked him hoping that you weren't embarrassing yourself right now.

He waved it of nonchalantly, like it was no big deal. "Ah it was nothin. Some just don't know when to stop drinkin!

 Reaching the farmers stand you pointed at a small wheel of cheese which you paid for and continued on your way. Stranger still walking  along to the next stand.

"It seemed like ya were used to it already," he stated and you shrugged. He was right after all and there was no point denying it.

"Well kind off. Jinyoung comes in every night so yes, you could say I'm used to it."

Displeasure flew across his face. "And your father let's him back in? With the way he acts around his daughter?"

Shrugging you stepped around a goat that ran through the crowd. "He'd have to stop drinking himself to notice that."

Why you told him all that you had no idea! He was a stranger who's name you didn't even know, and here you were talking about things that had no business being talked about with him!

You could feel his piercing gaze on you but ignored it. There was nothing you could say either way.

With full arms you took the herbs you needed from the apothecary, trying to juggle every without dropping it when the bread was suddenly taken from you.

"Here let me help you!"

„Thank you…“

„Ya can call me captain.“ Snorting you gave him aside glance. „Yeah, I’m not gonna do that!“

„Well then how about Hongjoong?“

You gave him an amused smile. " Nice to meet you Hongjoong, I'm y/n! L/N y/n!"

Together you walked, talking and teasing like you have never done so before until you came to a halt. Hongjoong recognized the ally where the Inn was, but was surprised to see that you led him to the back entrance instead.

The backdoor led to a little room that was connected to the main room and functioned as an office. There were books and parchment everywhere. It looked like a tsunami had went threw it.

You pointed to a side table to signal where he could put the food he had carried down.

"I'll be going through the books for a bit and take everything home later. Will I be seeing you again sometime? I'd would be my pleasure..."

Hongjoong thought for a second before answering. "Maybe ya will, Wooyoung has been begging me to come here again either way!"

The name didn't sound familiar but you guessed that it was one of his friends. Huffing out a laugh, you teased lighthearted," So you would only come back here to keep your crew mate happy? I see how it is Captain Hongjoong!"

An amused laugh resonated through the small room.

"Well, l/n y/n, ya'll see me around!"

And he was gone again. The whole encounter left you feeling various things at once. Happy that you got to see the handsome man again and even got to know his name, sad that he was gone again already and equally excited and impatient to see him again!

Suddenly the thought of having to go through the Inns income books wasn't as bad as it had sounded this morning.

-------

"And you talked to him?!" Hyunjin screeched, excited to hear the newest drama whilst drying a freshly cleaned plate with a rag. You winced and nodded, pulling another sound out of him that had customers turning their heads to see what the fuss was about. The waiter ducked his head at the scolding glare of Yoongi who, for once, was not hidden in the kitchen! Rubbing his hand over his ear, the cook quickly escaped. Leaving the proximity of where Hyunjins yells weren't as loud.

"How was he? He seemed really intimidating when he was here with his friends. Frowning all night long even though his friends seemed like so much fun..." It was clear that your friend wouldn't let it go and would keep bothering you until he knew every single detail about your encounter with the silver haired sailor. So you told him everything.

Jisung, who had graciously joined you at the bar once more tonight, propped his head up on his hands. A mischievous spark gleaming in his eyes.

"Sounds like our little y/n-ie has a cruuush!" he singsonged and received a rag to the face. "Yah! Have you lost it?" you snapped pouting.

Your waiter shook his head. "Nonono, for once I have to agree with what he's saying! It sounds like you were flirting, A LOT! And he flirted right back!" he agreed and Jisung mockingly stuck his tongue out at the other who responded in the same manner.

“Okay, first of all you two are acting like children and second, we were NOT flirting! And I do NOT have a crush!"

Both men looked at each other. "Sure you don't!"

You rolled your eyes, taking four filled mugs to bring them to a table near the back, leaving the two giggling lovebirds to chatter among themselves. Both of them were wrong! You hadn't flirted with the stranger and he hadn't with you! 

 The door swung open and a new wave of customers came in. Under them you recognized Jungwon ducking around a man who almost ran into a table. Your brother looked around searching for your familiar face and when he found it he skipped over to you.

"Wonnie what are you doing here? You should be in bed already," you questioned while balancing the empty mugs. The boy reached for some to take from you and followed you back to the bar.

"Father was being loud again." The casualness with which the boy answered left a bitter taste in your mouth. You hated it with a burning passion! Knowing that this was Jungwons reality since he was just mere moments old was one thing you couldn't help but resent! You knew what being loud meant and you were glad that your brother had chosen to leave rather then staying and listen to the old man moaning and screaming about how his children had ruined his life.

"Oh, really?" you asked dumbly, hoping to not appear to angry. Jungwon didn't notice and hummed.

"Yeah, couldn't sleep because of it," he placed the mugs on the counter for Hyunjin to clean. The tall boy looked confused for a split second but schooled his face and ruffled Jungwons hair in a friendly manner.

"You can take the bed in the back until I get out of here and then we can go home." you offered but your brother shook his head. Instead, he rounded the bar and climbed up the chair to sit next to Jisung who delightfully started to play games with him.

Yoongi let out a low whistle to get your attention. The cook had placed a steaming bowl with stew and fresh bread into your hands before signaling to Jungwon and disappeared again. The boy dug in happily and turned back to face Jisung.

You watched carefully. It wasn't often that he joined you ad work but whenever he did you always made sure that he was always around you or someone you trusted. This was after all a place filled with drunk men and women!

"Servin children in an establishment like this? 'm shocked!" the voice of Hongjoong ripped you out of your thoughts and you turned to look him in the eyes. You hadn't noticed him coming in, nor had you noticed him sitting down at the bar with his black haired friend that must have been Wooyoung.

The silver haired man winked at you which made your cheeks heat up.

"That's my brother." you stated quickly.

"’nd that's ma nightmare Wooyoung." retorted with a side smirk at his friend. Wooyoung sucked in a deep breath and answered with mock insult. "I'm wounded Captain! I thought what we had was special!"

With his hand thrown over his heart he made a pouty face at Hongjoong who just scoffed. Laughing gently you leaned against the bar.

"You're back sooner then I thought you would be,"

"What can I say? I was thirsty." Hongjoong said casually while the boy next to him snorted. "Thirsty for- "

He cut himself off at the glare he received and you hid a laugh behind your hand. Wooyoung was definitely not the type to hold back!

"And I thought you came to see me..." you quipped with an innocent smile playing on your face. You couldn't help but notice the way Hongjoongs eyes dropped to your lips and back up again. The knowing side eye from your waiter went unnoticed.

"Same as last time?"

The men both nodded and Wooyoung eyed you with a smirk but said nothing. Hyunjin filled both glass and mug and handed them to you to give to them.

Jungwon was yawning loudly and your focus went back to him.

"Tired Wonnie?"

The boy gave another yawn. "Can we go home now?"

You knew that it was way to early to close up now and with the way things were going, you didn't want to leave Hyunjin and Yoongi to have to cater all the customers alone. "You can lay down in the back if you want but I can't leave yet, I'm sorry little brother."

Jungwon rubbed his eyes.

"He can stay at my place for tonight if you want y/n. I was planning to leave soon anyways..."

Hesitating you looked at your brother and met his pleading eyes. "Fine, tonight is free of charge for you!"

Behind him Jinyoung raised his hand slowly. "Not for you!" you scowled. His hand dropped again.

The 11 year old hopped down from his stool  with Jisungs help. "I'll bring him by your house later, promise!"

You waved, blew a kiss and watched Jungwon pull a face of disgust before they went out the door.

"He's cute!" Hongjoong commented after a sip whiskey.

"He is and much to young to have to suffer late nights between drunk fools…”

At the questioning looks you received from both the silver and black haired you sighed. "What I said this morning was not just a phrase,"

While Wooyoung was non the wiser, Hongjoong had a look of understanding on his face. You weren't planning on airing out to the entire town how your family life was going but judging by the expression on his face, he understood very well without needing anymore details.

A plate shattered at a nearby table which ripped you out of your stupor and you went back to work.

Throughout the night,  non of your customers thankfully made any trouble. Relieved you whipped down the last table. People had cleared out and even Hyunjin and Yoongi had already left after the kitchen had been cleaned. You met Hongjoongs eyes who sat alone at the bar. His friend already gone.

"Where-" you began to ask where his companion was. "Went back to our ship already. He can handle a lot but he gets bored easily so he went back, probably to cause trouble with his shadow,"

His glass had long been empty already but something, or rather someone, stopped him from leaving too.

"Well I'm all done and since Wonnie is at Jisung's, I have no reason to go home yet. How about another drink? This time with me?"

You didn't know where this idea came from but the grin spreading out on the mans face was worth it. ”Gladly! I'll take another of those!"

He held up his glass only to get it taken from him and refilled just a second later with you rounding the bar and a glass of your own to sit where Wooyoung had sat earlier.

Silence engulfed the two of you. You felt him watching your every move while emptying your drink almost in one go.

“Seems like you needed that tonight. Ya okay little dove?" His voice was soft, soothing for your frazzled mind.

"As okay as I can be I guess. Raising a child and managing the Inn can be quite stressful at times." You snarked and turned your head to look at him. Hongjoong nodded.

"What about your mother?"

"Dead.”

While he had already thought that much, the man had not expected you to outright say it. In the short time that he had known you there were so many things that reminded him of the things he himself had gone through as a child! It was way to familiar to not be exactly what he thought.

He wished he could tell you how sorry he was that this was how you had to spend your life. Sure, the boy he met briefly tonight was an angel but he couldn't imagine that raising a child that young had ever been in your plans for life!

"Don't look so serious! It's fine and we're used to it! Better tell me when you and your pirate friends are gonna sail off again!"

The astonished look that crossed his face made you laugh loudly.

"What? Did you think I didn't know? The first night you came here the tall blond one called you Captain! You, wanted me to call you captain! And if you don't want people to know you should really change your look! You’re no exactly subtle..."

The pirate was rendered speechless at the teasing. He really thought you didn't know! He too laughed not knowing if he should get up and leave or stay right where he was.

"Don't worry, l won't tell anyone so tell me, how long are you going to be here for?"

Hongjoong shrugged. "We don't know yet. Our ship has to be fixed and we need to restock our storage first.  So probably a few more days!"

You hummed softly and he elbowed you gently into the side.

"Why do ya want to know? Ya gonna miss me?" he grinned and leaned over to get closer.

Your heart fluttered and you got even closer. Hongjoong glanced at your lips again where his eyes stayed for longer then necessary.

"Maybe..." you breathed out quietly and simultaneously you closed the gap between your lips. Eyes fluttering shut.

His lips soft and chaste moved slowly against your own, sending sparks through your body making you miss him as soon as he pulled back. Instead of entirely pulling away, he stayed close. Close enough for you to be able to feel his hot breath against you while his mouth hovered a mere inch over yours.

You slowly opened your eyes and could see him swallow harshly as you looked up, eyes finding his before they dropped back to his mouth, the tip of his tongue peaking out a little in a way that was almost mocking. For a split moment you just stared at the silver haired man.

The kiss had been brief, not long enough for it to be considered deep, but it had lit a fire in you that you hadn't known was there! It was an unfamiliar feeling that you had never felt before safe for the rare times you found yourself alone in the safety of your own four walls hiding you away from the greedy looks the men of the town often gave you! Never before had you felt this way in the presence of a man because of a man!

And when you suddenly felt his mouth back on your own, you couldn't help the sound that slipped out. The kiss now far more demanding and much less hesitant had your hands searching for something to hold onto.

Fingers buried into the lose fabric of the shirt covering his chest, giving you a short glimpse of his skin as you tugged on it, you rose from the bar stool to get closer. Hongjoong followed without further ado and without breaking the kiss. His own hands found their place on your jaw,  holding you right where he wanted and preventing you effectively from pulling away! Not that you wanted to!

You could feel his tongue licking at your lower lip, begging to be let in. A battle for dominance broke out, one that you willing and gladly gave up.

Quickly you found yourself pressed against the bar, the hard edge of the surface digging into your back. One of his hands let got of your face, instead holding onto your waist before you found yourself hoisted up and sad on top of your bar counter. The glass you had been nursing on got pushed back in the process and with a clanging noise it dipped over the edge and shattered into million little pieces on the ground.

Surprised by the sound of breaking glass you whipped around, separating your mouth from his which caused him to growl quietly in dissatisfaction.

"I-" you gasped out, inhaling deeply and with wide eyes you looked back at Hongjoong.

The pirate almost stared you down with desire darkening his eyes, breath short and his head slightly tilted back to take in the view in front of him. You didn't want to know what you looked like in that moment but you could imagine that you didn't look better then you felt!

"Ignore it," he said, voice low and licking his lips. "We can take care of it when I'm done with ya!"

 Hongjoong let his hands trail to your dress covered waist, down to your thighs and gently pried them open to stand in between them. His gaze was burning and you felt a little lost on what to do now.

It must have shown on your face because Hongjoong's softened at the sight of it. He grabbed your hands in his, moving them away from where they were still lodged into his shirt, lowering them and linking his fingers with your own. You looked down, noticing the black painted nail of his pinky for the first time before you got distracted again by his mouth slotting itself back against yours. Your eyes fluttered shut and you let him claim it as his again.

For a while that's all you did. You, high up on the bar with his standing right in front of you, kissing you and enjoying the little whines he managed to pull from you while he pressed his hard on straining against his trousers against your skirt covered thigh.

His lips were oh so soft against yours, warm and demanding in a way that made you want to submit to his every move the longer he kept his ministrations up! It made your whole body shudder. Heated skin brushing against the sleeves of your dress, making you want to get rid of it along with his! You wanted to feel his skin on yours, wanted him to touch you! So you moved to shrug the jacket from his shoulders, letting it drop to the ground carelessly.

"Hongjoong," you breathed against his lips, words sounding weak and whiny in a way you have never heard yourself sound before. He immediately looked back at you, a cocky smile adorning his face.

"What is it little dove? Got something to say?" he questioned and sounded sinfully innocent while doing so. It was clear that he was mocking you which you didn't appreciate in the slightest. With a rush of bravery and determination you  didn't know you had you directed one of his hands to the hem of your skirt, urging him to free you of it.

"Touch me!" you demanded.

Hongjoong had half a mind to simply rip the dress of your body once he saw a glimpse of the smooth skin of your legs but decided against it. He didn't want you walking through the streets later half undressed after all!

Teasingly slow he pulled the skirt up causing it to bunch up around your waist, leaving you in your undergarment. The man lost his patience fairly quickly after that and you felt him rip the last piece of fabric down your legs, leaving your dripping wet pussy exposed to the air around.

"Oh, little dove, I barely touched ya and you're already such a mess? Just for me?" he grins like a cat that caught the bird and let the fingers of his right hand slip through the juices collecting between your legs and over that sensitive bundle of nerve hidden there. His left one cupped your breast through your top. The way your nipple was pressing into his palm made him nearly lose his mind as it found it's way inside to free them just enough to spill over the fabric, giving him easy access to lean in and take the bud into his mouth and suck.

With a little shriek you weren't proud of you covered your mouth with your hand. The sensations you felt from your breast in his mouth and Hongjoongs hand between you legs left you speechless!

You clenched around nothing, pussy twitching with want to finally get some attention.

"Ah-ahh pleeease…”you begged breathlessly. What you begged for you weren't sure. The pirate looked up, still suckling and licking and his thumb slowly rubbing circles over your clit. Trying to push your hips further into his hand you let your head fall back.

"Are ya enjoying yourself?"

He guided your head back up, fingers under your chin, forcing you to look straight into his dark orbs. The hand working between your legs stopping and moving away. Frustrated at the loss you glared at him, causing Hongjoong to huff out a small laugh.

"Stop playing with me already and get on with it!"

The impatience in your voice wasn't lost on the man but instead of indulging you, he simply ignored it. He found it amusing that he could reduce you to such a bossy mess without really having done anything for it.

Entertained by the glare you gave him, Hongjoong shook his head.

"Ya know, I'm enjoying this way to much to just stop like that."

Without further warning the pirate dropped to his knees with a cunning smirk that should have been a warning in and for itself and let his tongue run over your folds. You jumped in shock, not having expected him to do that and a little shriek left your lips. Your first instinct was to push his head away but Hongjoong didn't let you! Instead the simply pushed your thighs further open to get even better access!

Sometimes you heard the whores that frequented the Inn talk and never had you even once entertained the idea of having a man between your legs yourself. It was harshly frowned upon to have sex outside of a wed-lock and even then it was never supposed to be about the pleasure of a woman!

But having this man, a pirate no less, lick up your juices like he was starving, finding joy in the way you moaned and keened highly with your hands trying to grab onto the wooden surface under you and your head thrown back, you cursed the gods that have led everyone to believe that.

His name fell like prayers from your lips and it was like music to his ears. Hongjoong had never been a child of innocence and showing you the wonders of what could be made his dick strain painfully against his trousers.

It was clear that you were quickly approaching your orgasm judging by the erratic breathing you let slip and to aid you he slipped his finger inside your fluttering hole.

You moaned loudly at the added pleasure, toes curling while one of your hands reached out to thread your fingers into his hair. The sudden tugging had Hongjoong groan into your pussy, the vibrations of it being enough to send you over the edge.

Hongjoong let you ride out your high before letting up, standing tall and pulled you upright.

You were panting, drops of sweat glistening on your forehead and eyes only half opened as you lazily blinked at him. Not giving you time, the pirate placed his juice slick mouth on yours, making you taste yourself. The kiss was rough nothing gentle about it and still you felt like this was how it was supposed to be!

Growing the courage to reach for the buckle of his belt, you carefully tried to open it with clumsy fingers. Hongjoong stopped you.

"We don't have to-"

"I want to! Please fuck me?"

The way the words fell from your lips, sounding so shy but sure at once had his mind reeling. Shrugging his trousers down to rest around his ankles the man tugged out his dick. You glanced at it, never having seen a naked male in all his glory and felt nervousness take over.

"Don't worry little dove, I'll make ya feel so good…”he trailed of lined himself up with your folds, kissed you softly and pushed in.

You clung to him, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. Hearing the quiet whimper of pain Hongjoong halted. His eyebrows were furrowed in pleasure and it took all his will strength to not just thrust all the way into your heat. He let his hands trail down your side ever so gently. You almost couldn't feel it through the silk of your dress but it was enough to relax a bit.

"Go on..." you exhaled into his neck.

The pirate slowly pushed in, shushing every pained noise until he was sheathed all the way inside of you where he stilled. Allowing you to get used to the feeling before he pulled out to thrust right back in.

The pain slowly turned into pleasure soon after and loud moans slipped out of you, telling the pirate exactly how good he was doing.

"Ya sound so good for me little dove. Let it all out, let me hear how good I make ya feel." He rasped right against your ear. It made your walls flutter around his cock and Hongjoong almost came on the spot as you whined his name in pleasure.

His thrusts grew irratic and Hongjoong knew that he wasn't gonna last much longer at the sensations of your head tightening around him.

Mouth pressing hard against yours he slipped his tongue inside while his thumb found your did again. Only mere seconds later you let out a high keen, cumming all over the pirates cock with him right behind you. Spilling his seed deep inside...

-------

Time past quickly after that night but Hongjoong seemingly had disappeared. It was a little disheartening if you were being honest. Something had changed for you. You were no longer just looking forward to have the pirate visit you but actively waiting for the man to open the door to the Inn and give you that cunning smile you had come to love.

That didn't happen. Hadn't you seen a glimpse of his mates around the market at times you would have thought the crew had already left town! However the captain stayed lost.

Your mood had dropped significantly since then and with it had your tolerance for bullshit from customers. Hyunjin had to cut in more times then you could count in just 4 days and you swore if you had to listen to one more scolding from him you swore you would lose it!

You weren't particularly eager to follow suit when both the chef and waiter had told you to go out, take some time off and then come back later the night.

And so you found yourself back at your favorite spot, looking at the moon glistening at the horizon and on the water of the sea. The cold air made you shiver, goosebumps rising on your skin.

The silence of the night cooling your frazzled mind significantly.

You inhaled deeply and a lonely tear ran down your face only to be whipped away and be scowled at.

"Stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid!" you chanted quietly to yourself. There was no reason to cry! So what if you gave your virginity to a stranger and gotten attached! He was a man and no man was worth even one tear!

"So this is where ya spend ya time little dove? I have to admit, its a beautiful sight!"

You didn't dare turn to look at him, fingers plucking at the grass under you.

"How did you know where I am?" you grumbled. Hongjoong stepped closer and sat down beside you.

"You weren't at the Inn, I was worried so l asked the chatterbox behind the bar."

His words made you scoff in disbelief which made him raise an eyebrow at your cold behavior.

"Is my little do- “ With a dark glare you cut him off hoping that he could see it in the darkness.

"Don't call me that! I'm not yours!"

Hongjoong immediately sensed that you were far from happy to see him.

"No you're not..."

The silence you gave him was loud and deafening. You bit your lip to stop the words you wanted to say. You wanted to know where he had been! Whether he really just didn't care enough about you and if you really weren't more then a quick fuck do satisfy his needs!

None of those questions came out. Much to scared to be right with your thoughts. You stayed focused on the gentle waves crashing against the rocks below you until you felt his rough calloused hands reaching for your own. You dropped the grass in shock which the pirate used to link them together.

"Ya mad at me," he stated calmly. "And ya have every reason to. Just know that I had my reasons... There were issues... lets say issues..."

You looked at his face, considering him for a moment.

"It's fine Hongjoong. You don't have to explain. Like I said. I'm not yours and you're not mine. So it's none of my business."

The words tasted bitter in your mouth but once they were out something seemed to settle over you. It made you feel the loneliness  you had felt much stronger then before.

"Maybe, but I don't like that frown on ya face little dove. I like ya much better when ya smiling."

"Hongjoong..." you sighed in defeat and looked back at the sea, hoping that he would finally say what he had to say so you could be alone again.

 The pirate searched for words that could best describe how he felt.

"Little dove, I- " he got cut off.

The sudden screams coming from the town had both of you looking back. One of the houses was brightly lit up, flames reaching into the nightsky! The stench of burning wood was causing your nose to itch and a bad feeling settled in your gut. Getting up, letting go of the fingers still linked with yours, you squinted your eyes when realization set in.

You lurched forward, leaving Hongjoong startled before he hurried after you.

The distance between your home and your favorite hiding spot had never seemed so far like in this moment and you finally reached the lit a flame house your lungs to felt like they were set on fire! Hurriedly you turned your head left and right to see if you could find your father and brother but all you could see was the intoxicated old man, sat with some of the older women while the worried about him and the burns on his arms.

Hongjoong too had reached the scenery staying close behind you.

"Jungwon!" you whispered when you couldn't find him. Darting forward, planning to run inside and get the boy out yourself, you charged towards the door when you felt 2 arms wrapping themself around your middle. Effectively preventing you from coming close to it!

"JUNGWOON!!!!"

Hongjoongs heart broke at the audible desperation in your screams. He had to use all of his strength to be able to hold you back while you pleaded with him to let you go. Tears were running down your face like a waterfall.

"Ya can't go in there little dove! Ya'll die trying!" he whispered into your ear from behind and sobs were bubbling out from your throat in response. Fighting against his hold was just draining your energy, his grip wasn't loosening and you gave up. Your knees gave away and you had to watch the house you had grown up in, the house you had raised your brother in, slowly collapse under the immense heat of the fire!

A series of unintelligible whimpers left you and all Hongjoong could do was shush you, his arms tightening around your trembling for, wanting to make sure you knew he was there. That you weren't alone.

The sound of thunder rumbled through the night and rain started falling as a slight drizzle soaking your hair and dress. You let it happen. Not caring if you got wet you let the rain mix with the tears until Hongjoong tried to move you to at least search for cover somewhere close.

The rain got stronger, fighting and winning against the flames until all that was left were a few still smoking, blackened beams of wood that had held the house up. Debris was everywhere.

A blanket was wrapped around your shoulders by your neighbor and Hongjoong who maneuvered you so he could properly hold you. Tired and numb you let him do as he pleased, still staring at the steaming remains.

You could hear the neighbors woman talking and for a moment you even thought you recognized Hyunjins voice but it was like your head was surrounded by a fog that made it impossible for you to really hear what they were saying.

Only when the sun started to rise, rain still falling and dark clouds covering the sky, did you finally see the entire damage the fire had left in it's wake.

Hongjoong watched some of the bystanders carefully search through remains, swallowing harshly when he saw the heavily burned body of a child being pulled out. He didn't think he would be this effected but just through the short moments he had seen of you and your brother, he knew that the confirmation of his death would be devastating.

The pirate glanced at your father. He had stepped out of the house he had been taken to and looked remarkably sober. Still, something about him irked the pirate to no end! With heavy steps the man walked through the rain right to where you and him where sitting. It didn't seem like you realized he was there and judging by the empty expression on the old mans face, it didn't look like he was very sad about the tragedy in the first place! Alarm bells went of in Hongjoongs brain.

"So you weren't in there," he said rubbing the back of his neck. The voice of your fathers hocked you out of your trance, making your red eyes focus on him.

"Father I-"

"What a shame…”

With those words the man walked off. You swallowed harshly at his words and Hongjoong carefully watched your eyes harden.

"Don't listen to him," he gently instructed as he looked after the man. This was the first time he ever met him and still, he could feel himself developing a kind of hate for the man he rarely ever felt. "He's just a bitter old man!"

Sniffing and whipping at your face, you turned your head to stare at your burned home.

"Yeah, maybe..."

Another single tear left your eyes.

"Oh dear! You're still outside? Heaven's you children will catch a cold the way you're sitting in the rain! Come inside please!" Madame Delacroix fussed as she came running. The seamstress pulled you up from the ground, out of the pirates hold and towards her home where she had prepared tea and some dry clothes for you. Hongjoong followed silently.  He was sure that with the way Madame Delacroix cared for you were going to be okay for now.

He stayed in the background, choosing to watch instead of involving himself in the way the older women made you lay down and covered you with a blanket. Not long after I you were out like a light.

The seamstress signaled for him to take a seat. Hesitant he followed the instruction. The scrutinizing gaze she gave him made him a little uncomfortable yet he did not back down, nor did he avoid her eyes.

"Who are you?" she asked, eyebrow raised as if to warn him about lying.

Hongjoong thought. "Just a friend Madame."

"A friend huh?"

It was clear that she didn't believe him.

"Yes ma'am, a friend."

"Well then, friend. I hope you'll stick around, cause y/n seems to really like you. And with everything that happened tonight, the girl really could use someone who will be there for her. Are you going to be staying?"

His mind went back to his ship and the crew that was waiting for him at the docks so they could restart their journey and guilt settled inside of him like a chain wrapped around the ankle of a prisoner.

"Not for long." There was no use in lying to the women. It seemed like she already knew when he was going to before he even did!

She nodded.

"Does she know?"

No.

-------

When he came back much later then originally planned, his first mate was already waiting for him at the railing.

"Where were you?!"

Seonghwa scowled at the captain. His long black hair was neatly tied back and a few astray strands were framing his face gently. With his arms crossed in front of his chest he glared at Hongjoongs tired form while he joined him.

"Things went differently then expected..."he sighed, leaning against the wood of the ships railing.

The black haired mans face softened a little. "What do you mean? We thought you wanted to say goodbye? Did she not want you to?"

Hongjoong ran his hand over his face in an attempt to rub the incoming headache away.

"Ya saw the flames I'm guessing?"

"It was hard not to see them."

"Hmm, it was her house..."

That left Seonghwa speechless. He gaped at the smaller man. "Ohhh."

"Yeah, ohhh. Her brother didn't survive and don't get me started on the father! He looked like he wished she was in there too!" he spat. "Ya should have heard him talk Hwa !"

"Judging by your face, I'd rather not." There was a moment where they just looked at each other before Seonghwa let out along sigh.

“I'll tell the others that we're staying until tomorrow, you make sure you're getting some rest and then take care of your girl!" with that the man was gone and Hongjoong left alone! A happy shriek could be heard not long after from somewhere on deck.

"She ain't ma girl!" Hongjoong grumbled to himself and looked down at the water slosh against his ship.

But the little voice in the back of his head immediately started taunting him.

Are ya sure? Or are ya just a coward huh? Ya know that if ya could, ya would just take her and sail away with her!

Would he? He would lie if he said that he didn't come to like your company and while having been running from a few pissed officials for the last few days after your shared moments against the Inn's bar, he had worried about you more then he would like to admit! You truly had bewitched him in a sense after just a few days spend together!

So yes, the annoying voice was right even if not entirely! He did want to spend more time with you, if only to get to know you better and the little flutter his heart did at the mere thought of your bright eyed smile was a sure sign that the voice was onto something.

Exhausted he stood upright and carried himself to his quarters. He threw his boots somewhere to the side, shrugged the damp jacket and shirt off, leaving his chest bare in sthis trousers and fell face first into his bed. He groaned, his mind plagued by the desperate screams of you while you fought to reach your brother.

Debating on what he should do now as he didn't want to leave you behind with a man that, to him at least, couldn't care less for you, yet he knew that the crew couldn't stay much longer without rising suspicions of who they truly were. He also couldn't just offer to take you with them, at least not without a lengthy discussion with the boys!

And there was no way of actually knowing if you even wanted to leave! This was after all where you had grown up.

Hongjoong closed his eyes and  there wasn't anything he could do to will away the mental picture of you, sleeping by his side in this very bed. Waking up together, cuddles and kisses and being able to fuc- NO!

He couldn't let his mind wander there or else he might do something drastic!

Frustration settled in his bones. Why was this happening to him?

-------

Shivering you opened your eyes to the smell of chamomile and stew. It was a weird combination but your stomach responded with a demanding growl.

A sneeze forced itself out; almost causing Madam Delacroix to drop the wooden spoon she was stirring the stew with. The woman cursed and whirled around, spoon raised as if to throw it any possible attacker only to come face to face with you propped upon her bed.

Your head hurt from all the crying and possibly having caught a cold. You also could feel your throat hurting due to the smoke you had inhaled.

"You're awake! Finally, I was already worried since you slept half the day away without even turning around once. I guess you truly were exhausted from last night…” The caring tone with which she spoke almost let the tears return.

"Jungwon, is he- “ you croaked out. Madam Delacroix stepped closer and sat down at your side.

"I'm sorry dear, they found his body this morning. He-“

You held up your hand to cut her off. You didn't want to know how they found him, if he was burned or not, that wasn't how you wanted to remember the bright little boy.

"And my father? I saw him earlier, so where is he now?"

“Maybe at the Inn, I’m not sure.”

“Oh.. okay, thank you.”

There were no tears left to cry just as there was nothing left for you to hold close. With Jungwon gone, you didn’t feel like you had any reason to return to your father. The man had already made it clear what he thought.

You were alone, alone in a world that had never been kind to you or wanted to see you strive in any way possible. The only one who you considered even remotely close, was Hongjoong.

Hongjoong had had not left your side until he was sure that you were taken care of. Why had he done it? He had no reason to do such thing.

A pirate captain who stopped in your town to make sure they stoked up on supplies, planning to leave sooner rather then later.

Who surely had not planned to stay stay for a woman he had met only a few years ago.

Why your even wanted him to consider that was beyond you but to think that the pirate sailing awy soon, broke what little of your shattered heart had remained in tact.

“Do you know what you’re going to do now? Going back to your father doesn’t seem like the smartest thing, dear.” Madame Delacroix hummed out as she took your hand, thumb grazing softly over the skin there.

All you could do was shake your head.

“I don’t want that, but I also don’t have much of a choice, do i?”

The old woman looked deeply into your eyes, wanting to make you understand what she was going to say next.

“You always have a choice! It’s going to be hard and people may judge you, but you can always choose to leave… You can leave this town, start somewhere else. Find a new home or sail away if you really want to. It is YOUR choice.”

“Where would I even go?” you cried prompting the other to take your face into her hands.

“Whereever you want to. Listen to your heart, listen to what it calls for. Who it calls for.”

Who it-

A knock on the door broke the moment and Madame Delacroix let up to go open it.

“Well hello there, friend! What brings you back so soon?”

Hongjoong awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck as he stepped inside the tiny living space. His eyes found yours.

“Ya are awake, how ya feeling little dove?”

The knowing side glance of Madame Delacroix went skillfully ignored by the man stepping closer, only to fall onto his knees in front of you.

“I’m… alone… Jungwon, he… he…” you whimpered almost to silent for him to hear.

“Ya aren’t alone, my little dove. Ya got me. ‘nd I ain’t plannin on-“ he tried to calm you down as best as he could. His rough calloused hands taking yours.

“You’re going to leave! Hongjoong you’re going to leave with your crew and then I’ll be alone. For real this time. Without Jungwon my life will be nothing. I don’t know anything else beside the Inn and taking care of Wonnie and I’m not going back. I’m not- I can’t-“

“Don’t ya say that. Ya won’t have to go there and ya won’t be alone. I-“ Hongjoong rushed to say, the brown in his eyes looked almost black in the light of the room. “I will come back… someday.”

The words tasted bitter on his tongue. Sounding like a lie to his own ears. Soemthing he didn’t want them to be. However he knew that the chance of the coming back was slim, almost non existend. So yes, they were a lie.

A thought struck him as he watched your eyes water, yet no tears fell. He knew Seonghwa and the crew would call him crazy for it but it only seemed logic for him.

You didn’t want to stay with that shit face that was your father. A mother that had died long ago and the lose of the boy you had raised, nothing was left that you could say you wanted to stay with.

“Come with me! Join our crew and-“

“And what then? I’m not a sailor. I’m not a pir- you know what! As much as I love the sea, I couldn’t…”

You looked at Madame Delacroix over Hongjoongs head. Watching as the older woman tapped her chest right where her heart was beating.

Nausea made your stomach roll, almost letting the tea you had a while ago come back up.

“I’m sorry Hongjoong.”

 Disappointed his hopeful expression fell. Hurt that you didn't even seem to consider it an option to leave with him, that you didn't consider HIM an option in this tragic turn of your life, the man nodded shortly. "Don't apologize little dove."

He let go of your hands. Immediately you missed the warm feeling of his skin on your own and the smallest wave of panic hit when you realized that he was trying to get up. Trying to put some distance between you and him.

It made your heart clench. His crest fallen face breaking it all over again. Reaching out to him hoping he would come back only to lower it again when Hongjoong avoided your eyes to instead look at Madame Delacroix who had busied herself in her little kitchen to not appear like she was listening to your conversation. She absolutely was. She also had the urge to smack some very stubborn youngsters!

"The Aurora will set sails as soon as the sun rises in the morning!" Hongjoong announced, his jaw sat with his chest puffing out to appear taller. "I came to say farewell."

"Hongjoong- "

His brown orbs fell back on you.

"It was ma pleasure to have met ya, little dove. Wherever ya are gonna fly, I hope the winds treat ya well."

Madame Delacroix stepped closer with a towel to dry her wet hands. A soft yet smile grazed her lips.

"Good luck boy, and take care of yourself. I promise I will look after your girl..."

The woman winked at Hongjoong who gave you one last glance. "Goodbye…” before he was out the door.

No, no, no! This couldn't be! He couldn't leave you just like that! Not now and not yet! When you had said he was going to leave, you had meant in a few days. Not the next morning! The sky outside was already dark, indicating that it was nighttime again. You felt like someone had emptied a bucket of Ice cold water above your head as realization set in.

Hongjoong had given you an out, one that you were to scared to take. You were overwhelmed with all the changes in such short time and your breathing started to pick up. Fighting against the fabric still wrapped around your legs and body, you hurried to get up and follow the man that threatened to leave your life again after he had shaken up your world in the matters of days. It seemed silly to be so attached after such short time but it didn't matter to you.

Never in your life had you felt as cared for and appreciated as when you were around him and that scared you.

Almost face planting in the process, you cried out. A loud sob sending you into a coughing fit cut through the silence of the house and it was only when the gentle hands of the seamstress helped you up and out of your prison fabric that you managed to focus your blurry vision on something else then the door that Hongjoong had just walked out of.

"Shhh, girl. It's okay, you're going to be okay, but you gotta breath for me. Do you hear me? You have to breath with me!" She took a shaky hand to lay it on her steadily rising and falling chest, forcing you to follow along.

"No he- he can- can't leave! Please I-“ you stuttered through the heaves to get air back into your lungs.

"I understand, but first you have to calm down. Breath and then we will figure this out." Her words were spoken softly but you heard her clear enough. Breathing became easier again, yet the scratching of your throat remained even as you stopped hyperventilating.

"That's right, just like that." She soothed and helped you of the ground to lead you to the kitchen table where she had prepared a bowl filled with broth and some bread to get some strength back.

"You really got yourself into situation there, hmm?"

You chocked out an agreement, staring down at the food but not touching it. "Yeah"

"So what will you do? There is not a lot of time to choose anymore, and judging by what I have seen so far, your heart almost screams for this pirate."

Of course she knew, you weren't even surprised. Old as she might be, Madam Delacroix was attentive to everything going on in this town.

"Listen to what it tells you y/n. Don't let yourself regret not doing it."

"I told him no just now, why would he still want me by his side?" You whispered defeated. The fight having left you completely and Madam Delacroix tsked at the pathetic sight you were right now. Having known you since you were barely old enough to walk, having seen the confident woman you had grown to be, she couldn't understand how you had let yourself get this lost in your insecurities.

"That man was very much ready to fight his crew in offering you a place on his ship, girl. Women are nothing sailors usually want as they think that a woman only brings bad luck once they set foot on board. He will be glad that you changed your mind. It's up to you now to do so, so what will it be?"

Silence overcame the room and time seemed to stand still.

“I don’t want to stay, not now and never again…”

“Then I think you have your answer.”

The chair screeched as it’s legs scratched over the flooring; clattering to the ground in the process with how abrupt you jumped to stand.

“I-“

Madame Delacroix held out a shoulder cloth she hadn’t used in years. “Go!” she urged just as the first rays of the sun appeared in the distance behind the horizon. Watching as you rushed out and knowing that it was unlikely she would ever see you again…

----------

Running through the empty village, you almost tripped over your own feet multiple times. Just like always, there was mostly no one to be see as you raced through the streets. You passed by the Inn, Jinyoung snoring loudly in front of the closed door with 1 or 2 chickens clacking softly and even picking at his hair. Had the situation you had found yourself in not been so serious, you probably would have laughed out loud at the sight.

The docks weren’t that far, yet it felt like you were running for ages when you finally reached the first ships.

With the Sun rising slowly over the water , it made it easy to spot the ship Hongjoong and his crew had arrived in only mere days ago. It was the only ship that was bustling with life; many faces you didn’t recognize and only a hand full you did through their visits at the Inn. Gasping for air and with your lungs threatening to give out you hurried up the gangway.

“y/n? What are you doing here? You cant be here, we-“

“Wooyoung please… where is Hongjoong?” you cut the rambling pirate off, coughing.

“He— I-“ The dark haired man stammered out.

“Follow me.”

You looked to where the voice had come from, recognizing another face from the first night you had met part of the crew.

The man didn’t wait for you and so you had to hurry after him, still trying to catch your breath. You could feel your airways protesting at the harsh breathing but that didn’t matter as you  did as you were told.

His knuckles rapped against the hard surface of the wooden door you guessed was the Captains quarter. Your heart was racing, pleading for this to not have been a mistake.

“Fuck off, Hwa!” The captains voice sounded rough through the door, angry at having been disturbed.

Hwa, you guessed, looked at you and nodded towards the door.

“Go on. He might sound annoyed but don’t let that scare you away.”

He left right after. Leaving you standing there to figure out what to do. This time you knocked, softer then the pirate that had left you by yourself, yet it didn’t seem to change the outcome.

Hongjoong only roared in anger and only when you heard a crash from inside did you get brave enough to throw the door open.

With wide eyes and his hair sticking up, he looked almost murderous as he swiveled around and glared at the door. Gaze softening upon realizing that you were in fact not his crew mate.

Closing his mouth that had stood open and gaping at you like a fish on land you both stared at the other before Hongjoong barreled forward, his hands suddenly cupping your face his lips pressed to yours in a hard, desperate kiss. Your fingers found the back of his head, running through the hair that was pulled up into his usual braided hair; seeking the warmth of his body while your tongues danced a passionate dance that was equally devastated and reassuring until you had to come back up for air.

“Take me with you!” you chocked out, a lonely tear falling down your face as Hongjoongs nose softly nudged against yours in a feathery touch. With his thumb brushing the salty liquid away, you waited, fearing what his answer might be.

“I’ll take ya anywhere ya want to!” He promised with another press to your mouth.

----------

Neither you nor Hongjoong knew where the winds would take you, but you both knew what ever would come your way, you would handle it.

Together.

[prythianpages]

The Family Reunion | Azriel

Azriel x Green Witch Reader | summary: Azriel accidentally welcomes your dysfunctional family into your home.

warning: I can't really think of any at the moment besides violence from a witch fight, basically you being protective over Az

a/n: There's not very much known about the witches in the ACOTAR universe so I'm just taking creative control here (: This can be read as a stand alone fic.

As Azriel sits in your living room, the familiar weight of concern settles in his chest. The past few days have felt like a quiet storm and the bond between you, has fallen eerily silent far too many times to go unnoticed. 

Of course, he’s already asked if you were alright but he sensed the lie as it brewed in your eyes before it slipped out of your lips. The shadows that remain at your side keep him updated on your whereabouts but besides a crow following you one day, there’s nothing else to report. He wonders if you’re upset with him.

Azriel tries to engross himself into the book–as it’s one you recommended to him– in his hand but his eyes keep drifting from the pages. He steals glances toward the closed door of your study. A vibrant green glow, your magic, spills from the edges of the door. He tries to pull on the bond but cannot find you on the other end. You shut him out. Again. 

Three knocks pull him out of his thoughts. Ignoring the skittering dance of his shadows and the way Pearl–your pet spider–retreats back to her corner, he opens the door. There’s no one on the other side. A perplexed furrow forms on his brow as he peeks into the hallway, dispatching his shadows to investigate further. They return with no insights, leaving an unsettling silence in their wake. 

“Hey Az?”

Azriel closes the door and locks it. He turns to see you stepping out from your study. You smile at him sheepishly, toying with your glowing hands. “Can I have some of your blood?” Your voice is surprisingly calm, despite the look in your eyes, and you must mistake his silence as apprehension because you’re adding: “Just a drop!”

He would’ve gladly granted your request but before he can even utter a word, a sudden shift in the air catches your attention. Your eyes widen, a touch of panic flickering within them. It’s a fleeting moment where control slips from your grasp, and in that heartbeat, your side of the bond bursts open.

His wings quiver as if struck by an invisible force. A torrent of emotions crashes over him like unrelenting waves on a storm sea, flooding and overwhelming his senses. Worry etches lines on his face at the raw intensity of your feelings. 

“Toad’s blood!”

In the blink of an eye, he’s standing in front of you, his hands cradling your face. The hazel depths of his eyes burn with concern but you avoid his gaze, your frantic eyes darting around the room as if looking for something–someone.

“y/n, my love,” Azriel implores softly, his heart pounding in his chest as he desperately tries to navigate through the sea of your emotions. “What’s wrong?”

Your eyes land on the door and a palpable tension fills the air. “You opened the door.”

Azriel’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Someone knocked.”

You swallow thickly. “How many?”

“What?”

Your voice is firmer this time. “How many knocks?”

“Three.”

You’re pulling out of his grasp abruptly. You run back to your study and a trail of perplexed worry etches further across Azriel’s face as he follows after you. With a furrowed brow, he observes your hurried actions. Windows are slammed and shut and locked in quick succession. He blinks and you’re running to your room next. “y/n, please talk to me! Tell me what’s wrong!”

You pause, if only for a brief moment, your eyes finally meeting his. “You just opened the door to a gateway of evil.”

“Evil??” Azriel’s wings flinch, the word carrying an unexpected weight. “What evil?”

“My mother.”

A sense of impending danger guides your every move and you’re sprinting past him. Over your shoulder, you urgently command, “Quick! Lock all the windows!”

Azriel responds without hesitation. He races back to your living room, determined to secure the window he opened earlier. As he does so, he sees a crow flying toward him. It’s familiar to both him and his shadows. The dark tendrils hasten to close the window beside him and the crow, unable to halt its trajectory, collides with the glass.

“I think that's all of it,” you say with a sigh of relief. However, it’s short lived as an overlooked detail dawns on you. The window in your kitchen.

Azriel, his shadows and you are already racing toward the kitchen but despite your efforts, you’re too slow to close it. Your sock clad feet glide across the floor and Azriel wraps an arm around your waist from behind, preventing you from falling. It tightens around you, drawing you snugly against him in a protective embrace, just as the crow flutters its wings menacingly and tauntingly above you. His eyes narrow at the bird and his shadows poise like a snake ready to strike. 

Shrouded in a swirling cloud of purple smoke, the crow undergoes a mystical transformation. Its plumage shifts and twists, feathers unraveling and converging as if guided by an unseen hand. A silhouette begins to take form amid the enchanting mist and as the last tendrils of purple dissipate, a beautiful older female stands before you.

“That is not the way to welcome your mother, Dearest.”

**

The last time you saw your mother was when Hybern became allies with Spring. She had asked you to join her coven, out of worry for you if you stayed in the court that was crumbling apart, but Feyre had already secured plans to bring you to Velaris. The City of Starlight was a safe haven for you…until the Hybern attack unveiled its secret. She’s been reaching out ever since–sending countless letters and when those did not work, she started sending ravens.

Though she delves in dark magic, you know your mother means well. She loves you and has been protective of you. Overly protective. Perhaps, you were being dramatic about it all but you weren’t ready for her to meet Azriel yet. You didn’t even get to finish the protective spell you were planning on casting upon him. All you needed was a drop of his blood to complete it…

“Mother,” you reluctantly greet.

She smirks at you. Every muscle of your body tenses and you place your hand over Azriel’s to let him know it's okay. Ever the perceptive one, your mother catches the subtle gesture. Her gaze falls upon the protective presence behind you. She narrows her eyes and points a perfectly manicured finger at him as if to say “I’ll deal with you later.”

With a wave of her other hand, a cage materializes out of thin air. You can barely make out the tiny green creature in it before your mother is thrusting it into your hands.

“Hold your father, will you? I need to go fetch your sisters.”

She says it so casually, it’s comical almost. You grimace as your gaze flickers to the small lizard. It nervously scurries within the small cage it is confined in and you’re tempted to drop it. 

Your father, a former high noble fae from Spring, had been cursed into a feeble gecko at the powerful hands of your mother. She did it shortly after she caught him trying to take your life at the mere age of two. He had plans to kill your mother next and take her heart for his own so now your mother loves to torment him by carrying him with her so that each remaining day of his life is as miserable as can be.

Verena, your mother, walks over to your door as if she owns the place. With an air of confident authority, she swings it open, revealing two females on the other side—your sisters, each birthed from a different father. One, with dark, flowing hair and sinister eyes, wears a smirk that mirrors Verena’s. Maeve. The other, with lighter hair, possesses kinder eyes, and delicate white feathery wings. Thea. She looks at you apologetically. 

You’re slipping out of Azriel’s grasps and joining your family in your living room. The cage falls from your grasp, rolling onto the ground. Binx dives out from the shadows, eyes alight as the cat spots the green creature within. A curious paw swats at it, its claws peeking through the thin gaps at the top of the cage but no one bats an eyelash at the terrified squeak.

A scowl settles onto your face. “Mother, Maeve, Thea. As quickly as you arrived, I want you all to leave,” you say, clapping your hands at them for emphasis. “I did not invite you here.”

“No,” your mother agrees with a nod but her eyes are fixed on something–rather someone behind you. “He did.”

**

Four pairs of eyes are on him and Azriel only cares about one. Yours. His knowledge over your family is limited. He knew your father was a piece of scum but he did not know he still lived. There’s a tightening in his chest and he knows it's coming from your side of the bond. He sends a wave of reassurance through it because if you’re okay, he’s okay. Even if your family is a little overwhelming.

Verena circles around him, her gaze sharp as the crow she morphs into. Azriel stands still, his shadows swirling defensively. When Verena extends toward the talon of his wings, the shadows snap at her, causing her to withdraw. A wicked grin appears on her face.  “A Shadowsinger,” she observes. “What is your name?”

“Azriel.”

Verena hums, stepping back, her eyes scanning every inch of him. There’s a devilish gleam in them when they settle upon his large, membranous wings. He instinctively tucks them back.

“By The Mother, you look absolutely ravishing,” purrs your dark-haired sister.

The lighter haired sister beside her smiles. “He is quite beautiful.”

“Maeve,” the darker haired sister introduces herself. Her dark brown eyes sparkle in amusement. She holds her hand out to him. “We haven’t yet had the pleasure. y/n has been hiding you for far too long.”

Azriel does not take her hand. Instead, he watches her with wary eyes and she laughs. As her eyes deepen in hue, mirroring the unsettling darkness akin to yours, an ominous glow envelops her hands. It resembles a delicate yet foreboding cloud of gray smoke that dances around her fingers. 

**

“Don’t touch him,” you growl, raising your own hand. A raging green fire roars from your fingertips as the darkness takes your eyes.

Maeve turns to hiss at you. Her cloud of smoke is steadfast as it continues its path to Azriel. Your mate. You hiss back but your mother rests a hand on your shoulders and out of the corner of your eye, you swear Thea sends a reassuring gesture your way.

“Oh, come on.” Maeve persists, her voice, both enchanting and seductive, beckons like a magnetic force. She steps closer to him, ignoring the heated glare you send her way.  She places a hand on his arm and you're shaking with rage as you recognize the haze that clouds Azriel's eyes. 

“You look hungry. Would you like a taste? What do you think, Shadowsinger?”

Smoke wraps around him, infiltrating his senses and charging the air around him with an alluring energy.  It smells like chamomile and lavender–a scent intricately tied to you, the enchanting witch he calls his own. You’re shoving away from your mother and prancing on your sister, the two of you tumbling to the ground. “Let him go!”

The room becomes a radiant spectacle, bathed in the ethereal clash of gray and green magic. The air is charged with the tension of their coexistence and you’re pinning your sister to the floor beneath you. “Why do you always have the thirst to take everything I have?”

“Because it’s fun,” Maeve hisses at you, her dark eyes a reflection of yours. “Besides, our family is in need of a new pet, don’t you think?”

“Girls, stop it this instant!”

“Can it be something cute this time? Like a puppy!”

“Thea, shut up!” You say brusquely as you look up.

Thea winces at your tone. Maeve takes the sliver of your distraction to push you off of her. The two of you hastily get to your feet and you hold your hands out ready to unleash the vibrant, verdant rage coursing through your veins at her. 

“I think y/n is ravishing this evening. Don’t you?”

Azriel’s voice is light, dreamy almost as he’s in a trance. He blinks and the tendrils of magic briefly cloud his vision before it clears. He steps away from Maeve’s cloud of smoke, repulsed by her magic and his eyes are searching for you.

His gaze, steady and filled with a profound warmth, captures yours and it feels like a gentle cascade of water extinguishing a flame. The vibrant green fire in your hands gracefully fades away, mirroring the softening of your eyes in the tender exchange. 

“And he’s not even lying,” Maeve frowns with a huff, her voice and eyes returning to normal. Disappointment is written all over her face. No one has been able to escape from her power of seduction before. “How dull.”

Your hand finds solace in Azriel’s and he locks his fingers with yours. You smile at him and he smiles back. You are the only enchantment he desires and your heart swells. You're so happy you could kiss him--

Thea, always one step ahead of everyone, gasps. “He’s your mate.”

Your mother’s eyes undergo a shadowed transformation of her own, reminiscent of a crow’s ominous gaze. Azriel feels a subtle unease but you remain composed. Gracefully, she approaches, her movements mirroring the fluid elegance of a bird. With a discerning sniff, she assesses the air around you both. Her keen eyes flicker to Azriel’s chest–where the emerald, the greatest token of your affection, securely rests beneath his leathers. His siphons awaken in response, pulsing with a powerful and protective luminescence.

“Your heart. Your precious, precious heart,” she whispers, her voice on the brink of tears.

There’s a drastic shift in her voice when she speaks again. It darkens with a mother’s fierce intensity and echoes through the room like a hissing serpent. “You’ve given it to him.”

Your mother outstretches her hand, toward Azriel, her gesture laden with an unmistakable agony. With a resolute urgency, you press your hand against Azriel’s chest, your other hand still wrapped around his. You can feel the pulse of his heart beneath the gem. It’s fast and erratic but gradually soothes under your touch. 

Given your family's history, you can't blame your mother for reacting this way. Maeve's father was a charming merchant, who enjoyed traveling through the sea, and was very aware of his heartthrob status. Your mother was not immune to his allure and though she did not love him, she was possessive over him. So when she caught him touching another female, she cut his hand off, forcing him to always think of her for the rest of his life. She keeps the hand she severed preserved in a jar at her house. 

On the other hand, Thea's father was a peregryn warrior who loved studying the stars in his free time. He was probably the best male out of all three...if he hadn't picked his loyalty for his court over your mother. Surprisingly, your mother left him alone and unharmed but she made a good example of him to you all because even the kindest of men were not to be trusted.

But Azriel is different. 

His sweetness, care and love create a warmth that gently embraces your heart. You’ve spent a lifetime shielding your heart as your mother taught you but with Azriel, it feels different. He is your mate. Your other half, crafted by The Mother and Cauldron itself. In his presence, you find a haven where vulnerability is not a weakness but a welcomed connection. 

“I love him.”

Wheeling with a snarl, she fixes her sharp gaze back onto you. Her hand tenses midair and her talons peak out before dropping it back to her side. She leans so close you can feel her breath tickle yours.  Her gaze travels down to the obsidian necklace you keep on at all times for protection and she feels her throat tighten when she sees the new charm attached to it. It’s an initial. A for Azriel.

“You stupid, foolish girl. What have you done? Have I taught you nothing?”

Azriel growls and his shadows tense as they await their master’s next order. Your hand tightens against him and you send a wave of reassurance through the bond. This was exactly what you had been hoping to avoid. The last male you introduced to your mother was turned into a frog and you hadn’t put up a fight as the male had fallen under Maeve’s spell. But this time, you were willing to fight and defend what was yours. 

“I think it's quite brave,” a dreamy voice cuts in through the tension. “A true testament to love.”

“Shut up, Thea.” Maeve snaps. “No one asked for your opinion.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time you ask for a reading!”

“Azriel.” Your mother’s voice is sharp, demanding attention. “You hold something extremely dear to me now. If I find you to be careless with it–if you so much as hurt y/n in any shape or form…I will hunt you down, rip your heart out and eat it for breakfast.”

“She’s not joking,” Maeve decides to chime in. “She ate Thea’s lover for dinner once.”

“Must you always jump at the opportunity to remind me?” Thea retorts with a look of pained disgust on her face and you almost feel bad for her. She did love that male terribly, as undeserving as he was.

“I don’t know why it’s such a big deal, my dearest,” your mother says in a perplexed tone. She rolls her eyes at the scoff she received in response. “He was a human.”

“He was the love of my life!”

“And others too.” Maeve cuts in, lips curled into a lopsided smirk as she gazes at her nails. “Mother did you a favor there.”

“This,” you say to Azriel, lifting your chin toward your family. Your mother and sisters continue to bicker back and forth while Binx zooms after the rolling cage imprisoning your father. You sigh deeply and Azriel now understands why you were on edge all week, why you had shut him out.

 “This is my family.”

As if on cue, your family turns to him. Binx rests a paw on the rolling cage, halting its movement. Even the green gecko inside seems to peer curiously at the Shadowsinger, its tiny eyes glinting in the dim light.

 Your mother, a formidable figure with an air of ancient wisdom, focuses her attention to Azriel. The expression on her face is a complex blend of skepticism and concern. Her dark eyes narrow as if probing his very soul–a look that has sent many to mad chaos and the room seems to hold its breath as Azriel meets her gaze. 

You step in between them both. “Mother, must you always do this?”

“It’s okay. I have nothing to hide,” Azriel reassures you as he holds your mother’s gaze, unwavering and resolute. “I would never dream of hurting y/n. I love her.”

“He speaks the truth, mother. He’d kill for her, I’ve seen–ow!”

Your mother’s keen eyes linger on him. Despite Thea’s words, she wants to see for herself. The room feels suspended in time as she carries on with probing into his very soul. She’s peering into the depths of his heart, seeping into its cracks and searching for any hint of insincerity. The tension in the room starts to dissipate as she must sense something she agrees with. Slowly, her lips gradually curve in a smile–a genuine one. 

“I like this one,” your mother says as she turns to you. “I shall spare you the part of my visit where I ask you to come back home with me as I now know it will be pointless. So let’s have dinner, hmm? All this excitement has me famished.”

Your mother clasps her hands together, springing the room into action. Binx resumes messing around with your father and Maeve makes her way to your kitchen, your mother following after her.

“I did not agree to you staying for dinner!” You call after them, shooting Azriel an apologetic look.

“She was going to agree anyway.” 

Azriel turns to your sister–the closest to a normal relative you seem to have. Her blue eyes, flecked with silver hold a spark of otherworldly wisdom as she regards him. 

“You can see the future?”

She tilts her head, a cascade of blonde curls falling over her shoulder. Her lips curl into a knowing smile and her peregryn wings flutter. “Only what the stars tell me,” she replies cryptically. “Would you like me to read your cards?”

Azriel contemplates for a moment. He turns toward the kitchen and his eyes find you. You’re engaged in a lively debate about the perfect amount of herbs, claiming that only a pinch of thyme is needed while Maeve stubbornly shakes her head.

“Out of my kitchen! Go seduce a pig for all I care before I hex you with an angry nest of bees!” 

His love for you deepens with every passing second and he nearly startles when he feels a flutter in his chest. It’s you. You echo the sentiment very loud and clear through your end of the bond.

“No.”

“Why not?” She teases, though she already knows the answer.

“Because right now, I have everything I could ever want.”

**

Once your family departs, relief washes over you, and you finally feel able to breathe freely. Leaning against the door, you release a sigh, allowing your eyes to flutter shut momentarily. When you reopen them, your gaze lands on Azriel in the living room. He's seated, head tilted back, eyes closed, weariness evident. Moving towards him, you saunter over, and without a word, he instinctively pulls you onto his lap, his eyes still shut in a shared moment of exhaustion and solace.

Your hands tenderly cradle his face, bathed in the soft glow of your green magic. You massage his temples, your fingertips tracing away the remnants of the headache your mother’s earlier probing had left behind. A contented sigh escapes him at your soothing touch. 

“Thank you,” he breathes and his hands find their place at your hips.

You press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “I should be the one thanking you.”

He opens his eyes and there’s a subtle perplexity among them. “How come?”

“Because they’re chaotic,” you answer and tipping your chin down sheepishly, you continue, “I’m sorry for shutting you out. I was doing my best to keep them from coming but I should’ve just told you instead. I was trying to protect you from all of this–”

A scarred finger props your chin up, urging you to look back up at him. The hand that remains at your hip tightens with a comforting reassurance. You find yourself lost in the depths of his beautiful hazel eyes and like always, they anchor you like a tranquil forest bathed in sunlight.

“You don’t have to protect me from this. I accept it–all of you. I love you,” he murmurs. The corner of his lips tug up into a small smile. “Though I do find you unbearingly adorable when you’re protective.”

“Adorable?” You can’t help but laugh. Others would beg to differ. You're sure your eyes have given Cassian nightmares.

“Especially when it’s all for me,” he nearly purrs, pressing kisses to the corner of your eyes. The very eyes he adores, even when they transform into inky pools of black.

He kisses the nape of your neck and your breath hitches. “Did you mean it?”

Azriel hums against your neck. “Mean what?”

“What you said to Thea earlier,” you say, mindlessly confessing that you had been listening to his short conversation with your sister. 

You feel him smile against you. “Of course I did. Whatever the future may bring, as long as I have you, that's enough for me. You’re my everything.”

When he pulls away to look at you, you’re beaming at him. His nose brushes against yours and your hands cup his face again, eyes flickering to his lips before you guide them to yours in a slow yet passionate kiss. You slide your tongue along the softness of his bottom lip, reveling in his honeyed taste and he parts his mouth for you, a small sound of pleasure slipping between your lips.

You kiss him and kiss him until the future seems like a distant thought, overshadowed by the perfection of the present.

a/n: I was driving to an appointment when I randomly thought of how chaotic reader's family is and wanted to introduce them formally in case I want to incorporate them in future imagines. This takes place shortly before the one where you get kidnapped.

Also, I'm currently watching the Witcher and I couldn't help myself and use this scene to help me write the part where Maeve tries to seduce Az.

tagging: @fxckmiup

[series masterlist]

[farfromstrange]

Now That We Don't Talk | Frank Castle x F!Reader

BONUS FIC

See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!

Read Is It Over Now? for better clarity.

Pairing: Frank Castle x F!Reader (past Matt Murdock x F!Reader)

Summary: You go home with the guy from the bar, and he makes you forget about your ex.

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), oral f!receiving, use of "attagirl", slight Dom!Frank, song references, unprotected p in v, dirty talk

Word Count: 2.9k

A/n: You wanted a part 2, so you're getting a part 2! Anyway, I don't write Frank often, so I hope it isn't too bad. It's also not as spicy as you probably expected, but I wanted this to fit the vibe of the previous fic (link above). You don't need to have read it to understand this, but it is highly recommended because some references might confuse you. Thank you all for taking part in this event!

You believed that your life had ended when you lost him. He painted your world in the brightest colors, but by breaking your heart, he took them away. All that was left to see was a boring shade of gray in a sea of sadness. 

Matt told you from the start that being with him wouldn’t be easy. You were willing to try. He needed someone, and you wanted to be that someone to him. You accepted him unconditionally. 

In the end, giving everything wasn’t enough. He chose her over you, and the castle you two had built came crashing down on you while he stood idly by. 

You’re not a bitter person, you have never been, but he made you fall for him; he made you believe that there was hope for the future and that you would grow old together. He stole years of your life in which you were trying to save him from himself. In return, he took the best care of you, but that doesn’t matter much now that he has taken your heart and shattered it like a glass of red wine on a white cloth. 

When you left him, you thought the distance would kill you. You truly believed that this was the end of everything, not just your relationship with the man you thought was the one but yourself as well. “This isn’t what it looks like!” he said the day you found out the ugly truth.

“I trusted you,” you remember saying. You couldn’t even cry. The pain burned brighter than the sun, and it dried your eyes before they could even shed a tear.  

He argued with you that, “It was just a kiss,” but you not once believed him. 

“Are you sure about that? ‘Cause if I ask Elektra, I’m sure she will tell me the truth.”

“No.”

It was at that moment you lost all of your trust in him—in what could have been or should have been the two of you, forever—and it was also the moment that Matt realized he had lost you. 

You believed that he took everything you ever were that day because your life revolved around him, and only him. 

You remember him opening his mouth, having the audacity to apologize. “I’m sorry,” he said, begging you not to leave. 

“Fuck you!” you had never sworn at him until that day.

You still remember the way the necklace with his initial felt when you tore it off your neck and tossed it at his feet. He knew you better than anyone, and you felt like you finally belonged somewhere. That necklace was a symbol of your undying love, or so you thought, anyway. Now you know that he may have known you to some extent, but you didn’t matter enough for him not to climb into bed with his ex-girlfriend.

You couldn’t even look at the necklace. He told you, “This is a piece of my heart,” when he gave it to you on a snowy Christmas Day three years ago. You cherished it the same way you cherished his soul. He was broken, but he was your broken man. He was everything to you. 

Matt Murdock was your moon, your son, and your entire universe. It all seemed far away that you could ever feel about anyone this way again. 

You saw a future with him. Married, a house in the suburbs, and working with Foggy and Karen in their new law office after everything they’ve been through. You were a hopeful person back then.

Karen told you that he went to a party a couple of weeks after you separated. He didn’t look like himself. You wonder if he felt anxious, knowing his only source of comfort was no longer there. You wouldn’t know until you asked him, but you refused to answer his calls.

Part of you felt euphoric, knowing that he was broken too, but you also felt angry because he was the reason you found your heart beyond repair as he stepped on it like a burning cigarette, and in your mind, he had no right to feel this way.

You’re a fucking traitor, Matthew Murdock! I wish we’d never met.

“Another one for the lady,” a voice says beside you. 

Your empty glass of tequila disappears and a full one slides in its place. In your drunken haze, you see a head of brown hair, and his smirk makes you wonder if there’s more to him than he lets on. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, tipping your glass to the stranger. 

“Nah, don’t thank me.” He gets up from his seat and sits down on the empty bar stool next to you. “You look miserable,” he says.

“What if I am?”

“I’d tell you I know the feeling.”

You huff but offer the stranger your hand. You introduce yourself. 

He smiles. Your name rolls off his tongue effortlessly. “Frank,” he introduces himself in return. “Castle.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say. 

You thought nothing and no one could pull you out of the dark hole your breakup tossed you into. You believed yourself dead and long beyond the point of redemption. You accepted it. You swallowed in your misery, giving up on finding a new purpose in your life because the one great thing you had was no longer yours. He fell into a grave that he dug for himself, and he dragged your relationship down with him.

Looking into Frank’s eyes now though, you no longer feel like a corpse. And you realize that you are not dead, not at all—you are very much alive. 

The door almost breaks off its hinges when Frank shoves you into his apartment and back against it. The decision to come back to his place was fueled by a lot of alcohol and the way he looked at you. You were desperate to feel something other than the hollow ache that has consumed you every day for months. His eyes told you that he may be able to give you just what you need, no strings attached.

The way he kisses you breathes new life into your mangled soul. He swallows your mouth and your needy moans with his own, and his tongue forces itself down your throat as your teeth clash in a fight for dominance. You’re both tipsy, but he seems to know just what he’s doing.

His calloused fingers burn against your skin. In the back of your mind, Matt is still so present. His hands are the ones you can’t help but compare him to. 

The way he used to kiss you before fucking you into the mattress for hours on end, switching between tasting and fingering you until you were whimpering and begging him for release might have screwed you up forever. He told you one night that he wanted to ruin you for any other man. Back then, you both still believed that you would grow old together.

It is truly ironic how fast things change when you are truly happy and believe that nothing can burst your bubble.

Frank’s large hands brace against the door on either side of your head. His lips disappear from yours. “Who is he?” he asks, his voice rough like gravel.

You meet his eyes, unsure of what to say. Your mind is everywhere but here, and yet it is right with him. Whether it is alcohol or self-loathing, you’re not sure. 

“What?” you whisper.

“You’re trynna forget someone. Who is it?”

He is a lot more perceptive than you thought.

You swallow, blood rushing to your head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t–” you didn’t what? Think? You feel utterly pathetic.

Instead of throwing you out though, like you expected he would, he reaches out to caress your cheek. His eyes soften as they gaze at you. “Whoever he is, he obviously didn’t treat you right,” he says. “If you want to go, I’m not stoppin’ you, but if you wanna forget whoever is fuckin’ with your head, I’ll make damn sure you forget his name by the end of tonight.”

There is something excitingly terrifying about the look in his eyes. A shiver runs down your spine, and your thighs clench at the thought of feeling his hands somewhere other than your face. Somewhere other than your hips and thighs. His kisses knocked the air out of your lungs. You want more, you need more, but you don’t know if you can take it. Not him—even though you’re also not quite sure if you can take him—but also the offer he is presenting to you. As lucrative as it sounds, fuck, you are not over Matt. And you’re not sure if you can ever forget him.

You want to though. You have to. And you want to be thoroughly fucked into the next day and forget the name of the man that makes you so fucking angry.  

“Talk to me,” Frank coaxes your head toward him. “Do you wanna forget the useless bastard that made you feel this way?”

“Yes,” you manage a breathless whisper.

“Did he hurt you? Break your heart?”

You nod.

“You deserve better.” His grip tightens, and his hand slowly slides to your neck. “I’m not, but I’ll fuck you so hard, you’ll forget his name and scream mine loud enough for this fuckin’ city to know who’s making you feel good. ‘s that what you want, hm?”

He’s dangerous, but that has never turned you off, even when it should have.

And when you finally open your mouth and tell him, “Yes, please. Make me forget,” the switch inside of him flicks completely.

He takes his time to worship between your thighs. His tongue buried in your pussy, his lips sucking on your clit without mercy. He eats you out roughly but sensually, keeping you spread wide open for him with both of his hands and a force unmatched—like a five-course meal, and he has all the time in the world for you. 

You’re lost in the throes of pleasure. You want to buck your hips against his mouth because no matter what he does, you’re on fire and you just can’t get enough, but he is so powerful that you can’t fight him. He has you at his mercy, your body in his hands, and all the control in the world over you. 

You pull at his hair, moaning helplessly as he feasts on your pussy. You’re going mad, you’re sure. He’s doing this on purpose, driving you to the edge before stopping the wave. Frank waits until your orgasm is just far enough for you to last a little longer, kissing the inside of your thighs, and then he dives right back into your wet folds. He thrusts his tongue into your hole, licks up to your clit, and then sucks on the swollen bundle until your legs are shaking in his hands. 

“Jesus, Frank!” you moan out. A trail of sweat runs from your temple down to your breasts. 

Your hands search for something to hold onto, tangling in the sheets and the pillow behind your head before pulling at the fabric. You tried pulling at his hair, but he wouldn’t let you. 

“That’s right,” he growls. “Come for me.”

Your back arches off the mattress. His name leaves your lips in a desperate shout as your orgasm crashes into you. 

“Attagirl.”

Your brain is hulled into an endless fog, but Frank doesn’t stop. 

Soon, you’re on your stomach, gripping the headboard as he pounds into you from behind. He is long and thick, and with every thrust, he forces your face deeper into the pillows. Your eyes have rolled back into your head. He hits that spongy spot inside of you whenever he pleases, and the gurgled moans from the pit of your throat spur him on to speed up, change the angle and thrust even deeper. 

He pulls out all the way, thrusting back into you with full force until he is completely sheathed in your pussy. Your heat consumes him, and he sees red. But so do you. He has reduced you to a few incoherent thoughts, babbling his name in the wake of the drool that is dripping from the corner of your mouth. 

And when you come this time, it is pulled back straight against his chest with his fingers rubbing circles over your already abused clit. You come with a scream of his name, and nothing else matters but his cum in your cunt and the unbelievable depth of the feelings he is eliciting within you. 

You drop to the mattress like a wet towel, covered in his and your cum, and your sweat that has mingled with his. His smell lingers in the sheets as you bury your nose in it. He collapses on top of you. The crushing weight of him offers a sense of comfort that almost makes you cry. And he holds you as though you mean more to him than a One-Night stand he picked up to help forget a man who broke her heart. 

“What’d he do?” Frank asks into the silence later that night.

You are lying on his bed, covered by only his thin sheets. He’s sitting on the other side, nursing a glass of Bourbon. He held you, he cleaned you up, and he offered you some clothes, which you denied. He is kinder to you than you thought he would be, and it warms your heart in a way you can only deem utterly dangerous with how vulnerable you are. Broken people make dumb decisions, and you do not ever want to go through the same pain again. 

At least you know that you are still desired. That you’re not dead. Perhaps, there is still hope for a better future. You made Matt Murdock your life for the longest time, and maybe, as you realize now, that was a mistake. There is more to life than him, and you can live without him. That it took fucking a stranger after weeks of being miserable baffles you, but some things are just meant to happen. Maybe it was destiny, after all. 

You look at him when Frank repeats his question. “What’d the bastard do, hm?” he asks.

Where do you even start? 

When you last checked in on him through your mutual friends—you know it wasn’t the best choice, but you couldn’t help it—they told you that grew his beard, and he last had a haircut when you were still together. It suits him, apparently, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at a picture of him.

Foggy told you that he isn’t taking home girls when they go to a bar, even though he could have all of them. He’s sad. He drowns himself at work and beats his fist bloody every night. The old you would have jumped up to help him. And it is true that you will probably always love him, in a way, but you refuse to crawl back to him.

The more you gave, the more he took, and at the first chance at getting a woman he claimed to no longer love when she came back into your lives, he took her. He couldn’t have wanted you as badly as he claimed if that was enough for him to flush years of loving each other and going through hell together down the drain, knowing it would break your heart into a million pieces. That is probably the worst part about all of it.

You take a deep breath. Frank is still staring at you intently, waiting for an answer. “He fucked his ex,” you finally confess. “Four years of being together and it still wasn’t enough.”

His grip tightens around his glass. “Want me to pay him a visit?”

You chuckle, but you know that he would. “No. But thank you.”

Matt was fading long before you left. Even if you did choose to forgive him, you couldn’t be his friend, so things are better the way they are now. You paid the ultimate price for sacrificing your heart to a man who had too many struggles to deal with himself.

In the silence, you find a little light. “At least I don’t have to pretend to like Jazz anymore,” you say. 

Frank takes another sip, asking, “Jazz?”

“Yeah, Jazz. He loves it. He…He’s special. Well, he was to me, anyway.”

“Special? Fuck, the guy did a number on you, huh?”

You scoff. “You have no idea.”

The only way back to your dignity is to learn how to be without him. You have to turn yourself back into a mystery and learn how to trust someone again before your fragile heart breaks again.

“You still talk?” Frank asks.

You shake your head. “No. It’s over now,” you say. “We don’t talk anymore.”

“Told ya. You deserve better.”

“Nah.” You reach for his glass, taking a sip of the bitter liquor that you used to despise. Looking up at him through hooded eyes, you stretch his leg toward him. 

You need to keep forgetting Matt’s name, no matter what it takes or the reminiscing will surely kill you.

“Right now,” you murmur with an irresistible smirk that makes him leap at you as soon as the words pass your lips, “I just need to forget he ever existed by screaming someone else’s name.” 

Frank captures your lips in a bruising kiss, leaving you speechless and breathless all the same. 

Matt chased you, he caught you, and then he lost you. And now that Frank has you, you never want to look back. 

Now that you don't talk.

I don't have a tag list for Frank, so I'm just leaving this here.

[cno-inbminor]

praestigia (pt. 1)

four months into my hyperfixation on this man, i barely managed to get some of this off my chest lol. thx sylus for being my first lads fic!

plot: formally speaking, sylus is a...sponsor. more colloquially, he's your sugar daddy -- and you're starting to wonder if he might actually want more. (wc: ~5.1k)

cw: this is all AU and does not include, like, any game lore (aside from that it's happening in linkon city). reader is a phd student, suggestive content (this is buildup for the smut in part 2), angst, a few dashes of fluff, not fully edited. mdni!

[ao3 link]

-

The skyline of Linkon City never fails to captivate you, blinking lights of tall, corporate buildings, the specks of light dotted across the sky, the blur of beams weaving through the roads – no matter which angle you look at it from, the view will inevitably take reign over your focus. So much so, that you do not notice the imposing figure approaching you from behind. He can only draw your attention by placing both hands on your shoulders, jumping slightly as you blink and remember where you are. A wave of flashbacks crashes through your mind as you are gently turned towards him, your back facing the window now. 

“Perhaps I should find it somewhat offensive that the view never fails to take your attention away,” Sylus remarks, his tone unmasked in his teasing and playfulness. His scarlet eyes peer past your shoulder to see if there was anything interesting or out of the ordinary. “Do I need to start booking rooms without windows?” 

“Don’t be silly,” you gently admonish, moving past him to grab a drink of water. His eyes burn the skin on your back, though you are familiar with this gaze. “Thank you for letting me rest here.” 

“Do you really think that after all this time, I would leave you to pay for a hotel room yourself? Or to find your own transportation home?”

“It’d be understandable. I can see where you would be coming from if you made those requests.” 

“I must say, I am a little wounded, kitten,” he drawls in mock pain. Instead of waiting for you to return and remain close to him, he situates himself on the bed first and leaves ample room for you to lay next to him. 

The gesture invokes warmth, exudes comfort, and stands familiar as you climb onto the mattress with ease and memory. Sylus stretches out his arm next to you, and his pose quietly begs for you to cuddle into him. 

And so you do. Sylus’s stature and frame, of course, never fails to envelop you during these moments of tranquility. Your chest pressed against his side, a leg crossed over his, your nails drawing patterns over his bathrobe and exposed abdomen – security, strength, and affection, once again, never fails to help you relax. 

Because this is what happens after every gala, every fundraiser, every grand opening, every social event that you accompany Sylus to. This routine of being in hotel rooms so high above ground with breathtaking views, burrowing into him, oftentimes burying himself inside you, and separating the next morning with an implicit understanding of exactly where you stand, is what you two had agreed upon all those months ago. And in return, your financial stress disappears into thin air, leaving you to study and engage in hobbies without such a heavy burden on your shoulders. 

Despite his constant reassurances that he can clean up whatever mess you may end up making, they do not negate just how tiring and draining these events end up being. Constantly putting on airs, overexposing your practiced smiles, making sure that there is not a single hair out of place, switching to what you like to call “fancy people table etiquette” – Sylus sponsored and, in a way, hired you to be as close to perfect as possible, and so, you must do as such to uphold your end of this business relation. Tonight has been a little more taxing than usual, as somewhere along the way, he felt the need to buy you anything that captured your attention for more than a few seconds. He would bid a ridiculous price that would dissuade any other potential customers, their expressions of defeat when they pass by causing him to secretly gloat that everyone has learned at least one thing about him: he will get what he wants. 

You had caught onto this shenanigan after the third item, and you made sure to school your gaze away from the auctioned items. But because he always seems to know what plays in your mind, he complains, “You never let or ask me to buy you things anymore.” 

Your eyes had closed shut during your time of reflecting on tonight’s events, and they continue to remain as such. “I have very little closet space. At this point, I think I’ve probably swapped out 90% of my wardrobe because of you. People are starting to get suspicious.” 

“Then why not move out and find a bigger apartment? You know I can afford it.” 

“Sylus–” 

“I know, I know,” he interrupts. If he were anyone else, you would have scowled at him. “It would be too far from campus, become inconvenient, and you feel it is too much to ask for.” 

As the conversation suggests, this is not the first time Sylus has brought up this proposition. What remains unsaid is how you would be closer to his residence if you were to move to one of the many apartments he had in mind, all of which would reduce your commute to his place down to walking a block or two; not a twenty minute drive. 

“Just say the word, and it will be done,” Sylus murmurs into your hair. When he realizes he has received no response, your soft snoring greets him before he can inquire any further. With a heavy sigh, he reaches out and switches the nightstand light off, leaving the darkness to swallow you both. His eyes fall shut in tired ease, but his grip around your shoulders remains firm. 

-

It comes to no one’s surprise that you feel less than well-rested when your alarm starts blaring at 5:45AM. You had an early class today, so you had to give yourself ample time to make it home, change, wipe away any lingering smudges of last night’s makeup, and try to appear as…casual as possible. Not wanting to wake him up so much that he cannot fall back asleep, you reach out for your phone and click one of the volume buttons, rendering it silent. Sometime in the night, your position had changed to Sylus spooning you. His limb slung over your waist is heavy, making it all that more difficult to leave – not just physically, but mentally as well. 

Like ripping a bandaid off, you have every intention to quickly remove yourself from his embrace. But Sylus, being the infuriatingly light sleeper that he is, immediately tightens his hold around you as soon as you attempt your escape. 

“Sylus, I need to go,” you whisper. 

He presses you impossibly closer to him. “I will drive you to your apartment. Sleep.” 

“No, I’m taking the subway.” 

“Why take the subway when you have me?” 

“If anyone needs rest, it’s you,” you say pointedly, because it’s true. Being the CEO of a business that may or may not be totally legal (you never ask because honestly, the less you know, the better) is not exactly a 9AM-5PM job. There have been more times than you can count when he would be pounding into you and forced to take a phone call. Granted, that doesn’t stop him from grinding into you and grinning devilishly when you bury your face into the nearest pillow to muffle your moans and whines. 

“Speak for yourself,” he grumbles into your hair. “You haven’t gotten more than six hours of sleep every night for the last week.” 

“And how exactly do you know this?” As soon as you ask, you already know the answer. 

The app for– “Your smartwatch.”

“One of these days, I will disconnect my account from that app.”

“I would like to see you try.” 

And you will. Just, when you’re not trapped in his arms. 

“I’m still taking the subway,” you backtrack, though your voice is quieter than before. A tiny sense of relief fills you when his embrace loosens, and you can finally crawl out of bed. It’s harder than it seems to squash the distressed voice in your head complaining about how easy it was for him to let you go. As you pick up all your clothes and make your way towards the bathroom, you notice his phone sitting innocently by the room’s coffee machine. After looking over your shoulder, you swipe it off the counter and bring it with you. 

Guessing his passcode is harder than you thought – the man has an ego the size of the entire universe, so you figure it would be something personal: his inaugural date as CEO, his birth year, his birthday, or others. On your last, desperate attempt, you type in four digits and find yourself absolutely floored at the view of his, now, unlocked phone. 

Your birthday. 

There is no time to dwell on the implications of it all, and you chalk it up to the fact that no one really knows you outside of being his typical date or escort. Therefore, the passcode would be that much harder to guess than the route that you had originally gone for. Yes, that’s all it was: an extra layer of security. 

Sylus’s phone is surprisingly unorganized, random apps thrown into folders that they do not belong in, leaving you to search for the fitness app that your watch is not only connected to on your own phone, but somehow also on his. You press the buttons necessary to delete your watch data from his end. When you are ready to close the app, you cannot help but notice the preview of his messages app and the texts within. Your thumb swipes away the fitness app and shakily taps the messages window that stared hauntingly at you. It had been left open on a conversation with another woman, if you had to guess based on the name sitting at the top. 

My parents are getting antsy, and so is your grandfather. 

That is none of my concern. 

Unfortunately, it is. They’re not exactly happy about the woman you keep bringing as a partner. 

Our arranged marriage is not a publicly known detail. 

And I’d like to keep it that way. But Sylus…

What?

We can’t delay this much longer. You’re running out of time. 

The exchange tells you enough, just enough for you to realize the situation you find yourself in. You suddenly recall an incident in the beginning of this relationship with Sylus when he described this arrangement, him as your sugar daddy, as a means to an end, preferably the end of something that he clearly did not want out of desire for his own freedom. There was not enough detail for you to give it much thought after that night of discussion and negotiation, but now, it all makes sense. 

Your thumb takes it back to his home screen and presses the lock button. In a haze, you get ready and dressed before exiting the bathroom, completely unaware if you even have your clothes on right or your hair somewhat kempt. As quietly as possible, you place his phone back where you had found it. Though common practice at this point, it now feels far too intimate to plant a featherlight kiss on his cheek. It causes him to stir, but you’re halfway out the door before he can fully register your departure. 

Whoever passes by, whatever zooms past, however something tries to gain your attention, you have no recognition of your surroundings. A thick layer of tension settles itself into your brain, allowing you to think of nothing but the fact that this entire time, Sylus has been in an arranged marriage that you, apparently, were supposed to be instrumental in destroying. To find yourself back in your apartment maybe forty minutes later is a miracle in and of itself. You return to the plane of reality when you open your closet doors to toss your dirty clothes into the hamper and are greeted by the many items bought with his money. 

Contrary to popular belief, jealousy does not make itself known in your system. You’re not exuding shades of green or red like an angry Christmas tree. If anything, you come to a quiet acceptance that this…partnership with Sylus will come to an end, and soon. It would do no good for him to keep seeing or supporting you while formally married, which means you have to get your life in order. Sylus has given you more than enough money to put you through your last two years of your postgraduate career and maybe a year into your postdoc, but you should still remain frugal. If you’re lucky enough, the money you earn during postdoc would be enough to live relatively comfortably on. 

Alone. Without him.

It’s fine, you think to yourself as you turn on the shower. It’s totally and completely fine.

-

A couple hours later in class, your phone vibrates with a message that reads, “You actually managed to disconnect your watch from my phone.” 

The slight smirk tugging at your lips is inevitable as you type out a response: You told me to try, so I did. 

“I will be changing my passcode.” 

If you want. There’s nothing else on there that I need to delete, right? 

“Oh sweetie, wouldn’t you like to know?” 

The subtle, possessive curl of his message coils around you tenderly, making you temporarily forget that you are in class and should be exhibiting a poker face. But you still shift in your seat, a warm pool of heat forming in your core as you imagine his expression and his voice reading the message out loud. Forever a tease and a flirt, Sylus knows exactly what he is doing by sending you that message. 

Your best revenge in the moment is to leave him on read, on the edge of his metaphorical seat. It takes too much effort to bring your conscience back to your current lecture and actually take some notes. Your phone buzzes once, but you ignore it – and in hindsight, you’re glad you did. Sylus, in all his infinite wisdom and glory, took it upon himself to send you a picture of himself after a shower – the skin of his chest glistening under the fluorescent lights, grey towel hung low on his waist and barely holding on, veins on his arms frustratingly visible because he knows what they do to you, his biceps flexed just enough that you want to take a bite at them. The fucker full well knew you were in class and, you know, in relatively close proximity to other people who would have, no doubt, gotten an eyeful. 

As you walk towards the subway station to go back to your apartment, head down and focused on typing out a message, a giddy smile can’t help but break out across your face. Your thumbs tap, “Should you really be sending photos like this to someone who, in the public’s eye, is just a friendly escort?” 

After not even thirty seconds, your phone buzzes, the notification of his call sliding in from the top of your screen. You almost roll your eyes as you bring the device to your ear. “You have five minutes before I lose signal underground,” you warn, your tone still playful nevertheless. 

“‘A friendly escort’, you say? I suppose that’s what the young ones are calling intimacy these days.” 

“You knew I was in class. And stop it, I know you have some stupid smug look on your face right now,” you chastise. 

“You know me so well.”

“Actually, speaking of,” you say as your eyes flit down to your watch. “Aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting right now?” 

“I stepped out.”

Your heart and feet skip a beat, almost causing you to fall flat on your face and absolutely eat shit in the middle of the sidewalk. It’s hard not to let your mind race at all the implications, that this tirelessly busy man decided in a heartbeat that he would step out with a desire to call you over something so minor; to simply tease you. In the grand scheme of his life, you have very little significance – your temporary companionship where you may see him four or five times a month, sometimes with weeks in between and other times mere days. Text messages were never a guaranteed daily activity, though as of recent, he has been texting you more often. But amidst his employees, his connections, his partnerships, his family, you’re just…you. 

You didn’t realize you had been stunned into silence long enough for him to ask, “Are you still there?”

“I am, sorry,” you apologize, scrambling to think of an excuse. “Uhh, an email came in and I was reading it. Didn’t hear you.” 

“I’ll get you some wireless earbuds.” 

“Please don’t.” Your rejection is immediate, firm. The lack of room left for argument stands apparent. “That’s not necessary.” 

“And what’s stopping me from just ordering you a pair regardless?”

“Me.”

Sylus responds with a contemplative pause, which is...unusual. He has always been so quick to reply with wit and banter, but there is a chance that maybe something distracted him, like what you had said as a poor attempt at a viable excuse. 

“I suppose the kitten is starting to make use of her claws now.” His voice rings softer, quieter, almost as if disheartened by his own statement. “First you disconnect your watch, and now you won’t even let me buy you earbuds.”

“I just don’t want you to buy anything that’s not necessary. Covering my tuition and all the dresses is one thing, but wireless earbuds, I can do without. My wired ones work just fine.” 

Your eyes catch the sign for the stairs leading down to the subway up ahead. “I’m about to go under and lose signal. Was there anything else?” 

“Come over tonight.” 

Your mouth works faster than your brain. “I can’t,” you lie, a pang of guilt creeping into your heart. “There’s a study group tonight for an exam.” Not a lie. “Besides, we just saw each other yesterday.” 

“Has that ever stopped us before?” 

“W-well, no,” you splutter because it’s true. There have been a handful of times when you spent two, sometimes three consecutive nights in the past – but things were more hot-and-heavy then, a time when you couldn’t get enough of him and vice versa. “I’m just saying.” 

“Then come after the study group.”

“It’s gonna run pretty late because we have an exam in a few days.” Again, not a lie. “Who knows if the subways would still be running by then?” 

“I’ll pick you up.”

“But you might be asleep.” 

“Highly unlikely, little one.”

Quickly looking around you, you quietly hiss, “Sylus, you should be asleep by the time the subways stop running. Why would you still be up at 2AM?” 

“In case I have to refresh your memory, you do remember that I am the CEO of one of the largest tech companies in Linkon, right? The work never ends.”

“You need time for sleep, you know, like everyone else??”

“I’m not like everyone else.”

Your eyes close in frustration as you groan. Your feet have reached the top of the stairs, and you couldn’t have asked for more perfect timing. “Okay, I’m at the station so I’m gonna hang up. I’ll come over another time, alright? Talk to you later.” 

“Sweetie–”

Moving forward to clamber down the stairs and smashing the hang up button is your way of desperately trying to not lose resolve. Any longer, you would have given in and rolled yourself straight back to square one with nothing but dread. You have never been more relieved to see the little “No Signal” sitting in the top left corner while you swipe through a gate and manage to get down another flight of stairs without tripping over your feet. 

Wired earbuds in, hands stuffed into the pocket of your hoodie, letting the wind tunnel threaten you to topple over, you do everything in your ability to not think about him – to not think about the messages that may flood your phone once you get signal, to not think about the pushback you may receive because Sylus is someone who figures out to, somehow, always get his way, and to not think about the weight of his earlier words: “I stepped out.” You pretend that you know nothing about this arranged marriage, the curiosity having caused your thumbs to twitch in anticipation at maybe looking up who this woman is. You ignore the now glaringly close deadline that will terminate your relationship with Sylus forever, and most of all, you ignore any semblance of pain that knowledge makes you feel. 

Cup half-empty, spoons tossed the window, the subway window across from you is greeted with a blank stare. In a rare moment of mindfulness (or is it dissociation?), you think of nothing until you find yourself standing by the foot of your bed and ready to face plant into the middle of the duvet. With your last shred of working consciousness, you set an alarm for thirty minutes before the start of the study group and promptly fall asleep.

-

As you predicted, the study group runs late into the night. Despite the several digressions into conversations that were very much not academics-related, all of you feel relatively good about the subject matter for the exam on Friday. Everyone comes to a unanimous decision to reconvene in a couple of days. Given that it was Monday, one more study session Wednesday and some independent review Thursday night would be beneficial. 

For your own sanity, you had left your phone, stashed in the recesses of your backpack tossed into the corner of the study room, on do-not-disturb for the entirety of the night. You had it programmed to still chime and alert you if family contacted you, mainly because it doesn’t happen often, and if it does, that means something big happened. The device remained silent for the whole time, and part of you wants to avoid confronting what your notification screen might look like. But before you can muster up the courage to do so, one of your friends speaks up. 

“Hey, you took the subway here, right? I can drive you home,” Jiho, a doctoral student in the same year as you but doing research under a different professor, offers. A part of you is beyond relieved at the perfect example of an excuse to not check your phone because it would be so incredibly rude (not really) in a social context.

“You wouldn’t mind? If you have somewhere to be, I can just walk.” 

Jiho rolls his eyes in a playful manner. “Come on, before I change my mind.” 

He drops you off in front of your apartment complex about ten minutes later, and he shoos away your offer to buy him coffee as a token of gratitude. You wave goodbye as his car pulls out of a guest parking spot, and only then do you notice the conspicuously sleek, grey sports car sitting a few meters away. Your heart pounds, and your palms begin to sweat as you get closer and closer to your unit, afraid of who you might find once you get inside. You spot the fluorescent glow from underneath peering out from underneath your door, and it takes everything in you to not drop your keys as you unlock the deadbolt. 

“So the kitten has finally decided to come home.” 

“How–” 

Sylus, looking severely out of place in your humble abode, sets down the stack of papers in his hand on your coffee table. With his other hand, he points to the fixture on your wall by the door where your keys typically hang. His own set now occupies one of the hooks, and you spot the spare key you had given him a few months ago. To your knowledge, he has never used it before, and you can count the number of times he has stepped into this apartment on one hand. 

You quietly shut the door behind you, locking both deadbolts in place before setting your backpack down. “It’s so late,” and even you wince at the shakiness in your voice. “You should be asleep. At home.” 

“Perhaps I would be if someone had just checked their phone once in the last fifteen hours.” 

Well, you don’t have much of an excuse for that. 

Sylus sits on one end of your couch in loungewear, though somehow he still makes it seem like he’s in something formal enough for business casual. You cautiously sit on the other end away from him. 

“I passed out as soon as I got home, and then I was running late for the study group, so I just left my phone on do-not-disturb.” 

His silence speaks volumes. 

“I didn’t mean to worry you.” 

But maybe you did.

Maybe, subconsciously, you did. Maybe you wanted to test the limits of his affection. Maybe you wanted to see just how far he would go to make sure you were okay. 

Maybe you simply wanted to get a taste of when you least expect radio silence, an appetizer for how things may turn out when Sylus calls for the end of your arrangement. 

“Look at me.” 

Tension weighs you down as you slowly turn your body towards his, but you avoid his gaze and aim to study the logo on his shirt instead. 

“Sweetie, look at me.” 

The command snaps you into compliance, his tone firm and undeniable. You expect to see anger, frustration, disappointment. After all, it would make sense, for there is a set of expectations and rules put into place to ensure trust between both parties. Transactional, contractual, institutional obligations and conditions set by both the company matchmaker and individuals are put in place to conveniently manifest and quickly disintegrate these business relations, to avoid messes. 

But you realize all too quickly that the mess will be inevitable, in your case, because instead of tinges of red fury in his eyes, you find concern, worry, and confusion. Dread sinks into your stomach like an anchor in the middle of the ocean, dropping further and further into the dark unknown. 

“You’re hiding something from me.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you immediately counter. Good job, you just made it more obvious. 

Sylus pins you down with a look that means nothing other than “you know better”, and your heart threatens to burst from your chest out of sheer anxiety. 

“Since you refuse to tell me otherwise, tell me how you got home,” he says, and though he may seem cool and nonchalant in the way he rests an arm against the back of the couch, you can see the irritation pulsing through the veins on his forearms. 

“A friend from the study group drove me home.” 

“And you were simply too busy to look at your phone during the drive?” 

“I had to give him directions.” 

Sylus cocks an eyebrow at the mention of this friend’s gender. “Him?”

“Jiho, sweet guy. Does research with another professor.” 

“I suppose I have him to thank for bringing you home safely. Regardless, you should have called me to pick you up.” 

You have one last card to play. “That’s not in the contract.” 

His eyes harden and narrow the slightest bit, the curve of his jaw tensing in building irritation. “How so?”

“There’s a line somewhere in there about making sure I would not contact you for personal favors that are outside the scope of our,” you hesitate to find the right words, “relationship.”  You can’t remember the last time your palms sweat so much. 

“I offered.” 

“And I am not obligated to take the offer. While kind, I did not see the need to bother you.”

“I clearly remember stating that it wouldn’t be an issue, especially considering I asked you to stay with me for the night.” 

“But I told you I couldn’t,” you retort. 

“Couldn’t or wouldn’t?” 

The bitter note in his voice on his last word matches his steely gaze that seems determined to pick you apart, to peel off each layer of whatever walls you may have put up. He’s not ignorant or oblivious by any means – something is going on, and you’re not telling him. You answer him with deafening silence, blaming your late night fatigue for it. 

Responding directly to his question would only make this worse, as you cannot see yourself getting out of the ensuing conversation unscathed and alive. Instead, the couch dips as you cross the distance between you two, hesitantly straddling his hips in case he doesn’t want you to. But he allows your move, his hands almost instinctively resting on your thighs as you settle yourself into his hold. His skin feels glassy smooth beneath your fingers as you caress his cheek, studying every detail of his face and avoiding his eyes. 

Perhaps there is a part of you that is trying to commit the minutiae to memory in preparation for the days when you will no longer see him so intimately. You should have never let yourself get so attached, no matter how much tenderness and adoration Sylus has been absolutely spoiling you with. The realization hits you in a bittersweet manner, and the featherlight kiss you place on his lips only makes it hurt more. 

Yet you move past the pain to accept the fall, the descent into oblivion as you feel Sylus respond to your kiss, deepening and increasing in fervor. The heat in your core is more than just lust as it sinks deeper and deeper into you, a testament to the depth of your affections. Somehow, his touch as his hands roam your figure burns hotter. It almost makes you want to shy away from his grasp, but part of you welcomes the trails of fire as your punishment for deceiving him. 

You gasp out his name as his lips leave your neck scorching, each nip of his teeth and lave of his tongue adding to the haze slowly overtaking your rationale. But beneath the man’s ardor, you manage to recognize his irritation and annoyance  –  the way his fingers grip your waist, his nails digging into your back – about how this whole night has progressed. 

Apologize, his eyes seem to scream. Seek forgiveness as I seek vengeance, his hands draw on your skin. 

Beg for me.

---

[tbc]

[elllisaaa]

PURPLE LIGHTS - L. JOOYEON

dinna's birthday special !

SUMMARY : when you decided to not buy curtains for your bedroom windows, you never thought that it would lead you to finally meet your neighbour.

-> pairing : neighbour!jooyeon x fem!reader

-> words count : 6.3k words

-> genre : strangers-to-lovers, smut, little sprinkle of fluff

-> warnings : switch!jooyeon x switch!reader, masturbation (f. & m.), voyeurism, exihibisionism, making out, dry humping, fingering, nipple play, riding, teasing, dirty talk, swearing, oral (m. receiving), deepthroating, cum play, marking, manhandling, use of 'slut' & 'good girl', rough

+ the way i'm depicting jooyeon does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction.

-> 18+ content bellow, minors DNI

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language

-> author's note : here's a little gift for my favourite's girl @joocomics birthday !! i really wanted to celebrate this special day (and to have an excuse to write about jooyeon tbh). i really liked planning the scenario of this fic, and the smut scene is maybe one of my favourite i've ever written. so enjoy, and happy birthday to dinna again, I'm so proud of you and I wish you all the best, love u 💕💕 !

-> playlist : meddle about by chase atlantic - steal the show by shaun & jeff satur - connected by bangchan - watch me burn by michele morrone - i don't need your name by rosenfeld

-> masterlist | xdh masterlist

You’ve never been a big fan of curtains : it was more laundry to do, they were always ugly and they blocked the sunlight too much. You would much rather not hang them and be woken up by the light of the sun rising than having to think about closing them every night. And until this day, you’ve never regretted your choice. You had a paravent for when you needed to change in your room, and anyway, it would be your neighbors fault for looking inside of your apartment. 

You had made it a habit to get off directly when you came home from college. You took a quick shower, ate a snack and got under your covers to use your fingers or your favorite vibrator. Your bed was pushed all the way back against the wall of your room, so it was almost impossible for your neighbors from the building in front of yours to know what you were doing except if they were closely observing your every movement. 

So when you came home on a hot day, after having endured some exhausting classes all day, the least you had to care about was the lack of curtains hanging from the ceiling when you dropped to lay down on your bed. You didn’t even have enough willpower to wash yourself off first, knowing that you would be drenched in sweat by the time you were done anyway because the weather was really too warm. Despite the sun having set for a few hours already, the temperature wouldn’t go down. The room was dark, so you took it upon yourself to at least turn on your purple leds to see what you were doing. 

You were far too horny to think about anything other than getting your relief as you slipped one hand under your skirt, fingers rubbing your clit over the material of your panties. You gasped quietly at the sensation, a fresh new wave of arousal crashing over you as you applied more pressure against the bundle of nerves, causing a moan to slip past your lips. If usually, you loved to tease yourself a bit, right now all you wanted was to finally push your fingers in and get to that orgasm. So you slipped off of your underwear rather quickly, discarding them on the floor beside your bed, your fingers immediately returning to your folds. 

You spread your legs wider as your other hand came down to play with your wet entrance after having sucked on two of your fingers to coat them with your saliva. Though, you might’ve not needed that with how soaked you were. You whimpered to yourself when you pushed the first finger in, doubling the pace of your circles around your clit, matching it with the rhythm of your digit inside. It felt good to finally have something filling you up, to finally have something easing your desire. Without too much thinking, you slipped a second finger in, a real moan tumbling from your lips as you did so. You put more pressure on your clit as you moved your two fingers slowly at first, letting yourself some time to adjust to the little stretch before you picked up your pace again. 

At this point, your eyes were closed shut, and your legs were trembling every time you curled your fingers just right, every time you bumped against your sweet spot. You didn’t try to be quiet - you knew that the walls were pretty thick, and to be honest, you didn’t care at all at this moment - only enjoying the moment, only enjoying how good you were feeling. As you felt yourself get closer, you opened your eyes again, only for a moment, only to fix your pillows and have your back rest against them better so that you could reach a deeper spot, a spot you knew would give you a crazy good orgasm. 

But as you resumed the movements of your fingers inside of your messy cunt, you caught the gaze of your neighbor from the apartment facing yours. Your eyes widened, your first thought being that he just saw you touching yourself. But then you were attracted by the rest of his body, and that’s when you noticed he had his cock out, quickly jerking himself off as he watched you from the other side of the street. Never in a million years did you think that this situation could ever happen to you - let alone that it would turn you even more. But here you were, thrusting your fingers inside of you deeper, squeezing tight around them because the hot guy next door seemed just as gone as you were. 

You couldn’t help but notice how his pretty face was deformed by pleasure, mouth hanging open, and you just had to imagine how his voice must have sounded when he was moaning. But ultimately, you were drawn right back to his hand now moving way faster around his cock, and even from where you were, you could see that his tip was glistening with precum. You could feel yourself get even wetter at the thought of him being right there instead, and you didn’t want to think about why you came harder than ever when you watched him spill his load all over his black shirt, you didn’t want to think about it as you threw your head back, almost crying out from how good you felt. 

You tried to gather your thoughts as you came down from your high, trying to figure out how to handle this situation. But when you looked back at your neighbor's apartment, he had already disappeared. You didn’t know why you were disappointed at this moment, because it was certain that the post-nut clarity would hit the both of you quickly and that it would have been awkward, but still, you went to have your shower with a weird feeling about all of this. Maybe it was because you didn’t want to admit you hadn’t had an orgasm that powerful in ages. Maybe it was because you didn’t want to admit that you unleashed a new kink. Maybe it was because you always watched your neighbor from afar when you put out the trash or went home at the same time and that you thought he was really handsome. Maybe it was all that or maybe that you were just paranoid. 

The next time you got a glimpse of your handsome neighbor, you looked even less put together than  the last time. You were just supposed to throw out your thrash, so you didn’t care enough to dress properly - only wearing your pajama pants and an oversized shirt, your hair a mess. But if you knew you would stumble on your neighbors, dressed with a full black outfit and his hair styled perfectly, maybe you would’ve put in more effort. Though, as soon as you crossed his eyes, you made it a mission to not look at him at all. You could already feel your cheeks heating up when you remembered what happened almost a week ago. 

“- Hi Miss Exhibisionist.”

Suddenly, you could feel his hot breath hitting the back of your neck as you were trying to figure out where to put your empty glass containers, and also trying to not get distracted by the surname he decided to give you. He was so close to you that you could feel his body heat through both of your clothes. You didn’t even turn around to answer, staying focused on your task because you truly didn’t know how you were supposed to act with him.

“- That’s not my name.

- Then what is it ?

- Y/N.

- Nice to officially meet you, Y/N. I’m Jooyeon.”

Once you were done putting your different types of trash into the right bins, you couldn’t avoid him anymore. So you braced yourself and you turned around to face him. It was the first time you were so close to him, so close to his seemingly flawless face. Suddenly, you felt self-conscious about how you must look beside him - you probably resembled a homeless person while he was straight out of a magazine. The only great thing coming out of this interaction was that you finally knew his name.

“- Well, I’m kinda busy, so if you could just move out of my way, Jooyeon.”

A smirk stretched out his lips as you tried to walk past him. You weren’t busy, it was a lie, you just wanted to get away from here because being close to him made you think back to what happened last week and it was clearly not a good idea to focus on that right now. 

“- Oh, darling, I’m disappointed. I thought you would at least be nicer after putting on such a show for me…”

Your cheeks heated up immediately at hearing Jooyeon mentioning it so casually, as if it was nothing. The way he was looking at you with this annoyingly attractive cheeky grin made your insides swirl but it also pissed you off a little. He was acting as if he hated all this when he probably liked it even more than you, when he was the pervert for looking in the first place - and no, you will not mention that the fact that he was watching you did made you cum harder.

“- If you didn’t want to see, you just had to stop looking at me like a creep.”

You tried to bypass him again but Jooyeon was quicker than you. He grabbed on your arm, pulling you close to him while his other hand got more adventurous and slid down to your waist. You wanted to remain calm and collected but it was hard when your handsome neighbor was obviously flirting with you, it was hard when you wanted to be mad at him but couldn’t with how fast he made your heart beat. 

“- A creep ? You seemed to like this creep watching you a lot though, didn’t you Miss Exhibitionist ?

- You didn’t seem to hate it either, smarty pants.

- You’re pretty but you can bite, uh ?

- Take care, I’m wilder than I look.

- Yeah ? I would love for you to show me that too.”

You were hypnotized by the way he was looking at you, and your eyes flicked down to his lips just for a second, but it was second enough for Jooyeon to notice. His smirk only grew wider as he started to lean down. And then the door of the bin storage flew open, forcing you to come back to reality. One of your neighbors entered the room, without a care in the world for what Jooyeon and you were previously doing, the old lady only throwing you a dirty glance because you were apparently on her way. You took this as an opportunity to run away, not turning around but now clearly picturing Jooyeon’s grin as he watched you go.

It wasn’t a good idea to get involved with him, you knew it. If you were logical, you knew nothing about him except that he was apparently making music because you often saw him with a bass and one of his friends came over all the time with a guitar. You knew nothing about him except that he seemed to be a voyeurist and that he was really beautiful. It wasn’t a good idea to let him mess up with your head and get into your pants so easily. Though, you couldn’t stop your mind from going back to him every time you had nothing to think about, and it wasn’t unpleasant at all to imagine his fingers replacing yours when you were touching yourself at night. 

Sometimes, you did wish that he would interrupt one of your sessions again. Sometimes, you did glance at his apartment before laying down on your bed, hoping that he was home. Sometimes, you did stare at him through his windows, watching him pace around in his living room with only a pair of gray sweatpants on and drooling over his sculpted body. Sometimes, you did think that it wasn’t such a bad idea to maybe let him in for more. 

However, you were so busy with college and work - not a lie this time - that you had barely any time to regret not giving Jooyeon a chance. You were still trying to catch him walking through his kitchen sometimes, but it was only because it became some kind of habit by now, and you didn’t even felt guilty about it anymore - he was the one who started it after all. 

“- Hi, I’ll take an iced latte with vanilla syrup and soya milk, for here please.

- Miss Exhibisionist ?”

You quickly raised your head from your phone when you heard the familiar surname, eyes falling on Jooyeon who was standing behind the counter, his smirk already tugging at the corner of his lips despite his evident surprise. 

“- Smarty pants… Glad to see you actually have a life outside of spying on me, but could you take my order ? I have things to do. 

- Always busy, uh ? What are you doing to be so unavailable all the time ?”

Jooyeon spared you one last glance as he finally taped your order on the screen in front of him. You looked around the coffee shop, glad that you arrived before the usual wave of people that came here to study after classes. You personally never really went to cafés but you needed to get away from either your apartment and the campus so you figured that it would be a good idea to test something new.

“- College, my major is biology. Try to have a social life with that.”

Your neighbor chuckled as he took one cup from the pile in front of him, writing your name on it before passing it to his colleague. And you found yourself thinking that he was really cute when he was smiling like that, his eyes almost disappearing and his shoulders slightly shaking. He brushed one hand through his hair as he tapped something else on his screen before looking back at you.

“- So that’s why you need to relax ?”

And then his teasing self was back, and so was the blush covering your cheeks. You started to rummage through your bag to avoid his intense gaze, busing your mind to stop thinking about another way to relax with him.

“- You could say that I guess. How much do I owe you ?

- Nothing, darling. It’s on me, as an apology for being a creep. Your order will be ready at the counter right there.”

Jooyeon winked at you as you moved to the side, letting the girl behind you go up to order too. You almost didn’t hear the other guy calling for you as he handed you your coffee. You went to settle at a table at the back of the place to be sure that you wouldn’t be bothered too much and you finally took a look at the name Jooyeon wrote on your cup.

Miss Exihibisionist. 

You glanced back at him, but he was already staring your way, his grin returning on his face as you mouthed “Smarty pants” at him. And this time, you couldn’t help the smile that stretched out your lips as you opened your laptop to try and get some work done. Surprisingly, you were able to complete this assignment you were struggling with for the past few days, and you even had the time to go over some of your notes and make them look clearer, which was a miracle for a week day as you were often only able to do that on the weekends. 

You were pulled out of your work by someone lightly tapping on your shoulder, and you were so immersed in your music that you didn’t even noticed that someone was coming your way, causing you to jump in your place as you slid off your headphones and turned your head to discover that Jooyeon was standing by your side, an apologetic smile on his face.

“- Sorry, I didn’t want to scare you.

- No, it’s okay, I was just surprised.

- I’m gonna close the café soon, so I don’t want to interrupt you but…”

As you finally took the time to look around, you observed that you were in fact the last customer of the café. You simply nodded at Jooyeon and got up to pack up your things, not wanting to hold him back at work more than he needed. 

“- Yeah, no problem. I didn’t realize it was that late, sorry.

- I figured, you seemed very concentrated, I didn’t want to disturb you.”

You raised your head and caught a glimpse of Jooyeon putting the chairs on top of the tables so that the morning shift would just have to swipe the floors quickly. You could feel your heart flutter at his carefulness. So not only was he a musician, a handsome man with a pretty cock (from what you had seen) but he was also nice ? If you weren’t cautious, you might want to fall in love because Jooyeon revealed to be exactly your type. You put your pencil case back in your bag before hanging it on your shoulder and heading for the door when you were interrupted again by the voice you were starting to get familiar with.

“- Wait, Y/N. I’m almost done, and it’s already dark outside, so let me walk you home, yeah ?”

You turned around to look at him, and again, you just nodded. And again, this beautiful smile of his took over his features as he untied his apron.

“- I’ll be back in a minute.”

You waited for Jooyeon by the door, answering to some texts you had received during your study session while he was getting his things in the back. He came back with his jacket put on and his backpack hanging from one of his shoulders, two packets of pastries in his hands. You followed him outside, and let him lock the front door before you finally started to walk toward your building. 

“- These are for you. We had a lot of left-over pastries today, and if no one takes them when leaving, they’re going to trash so I hope you have a sweet-tooth.”

You took the bag he handed you, the sugary smell of the frostage mixed with the one of chocolate already making you drool. It wasn’t polite to just bite down on one of the cakes in front of him, but you were barely resisting the urge because you were starving, your last meal being the lunch you had midday. You smiled at him as a thank you, a genuine smile that got to your eyes.

“- That’s adorable, thank you.”

And the silence fell back on the two of you. It was both comfortable and awkward. You wanted to strike up a conversation with him, but when walking in the dark, alone with him, the memories from almost a month ago were as vivid as ever. 

“- So, you work at the café full-time ?”

It was lame, but it was the only subject of discussion you could manage to find without coming back to this day again. But Jooyeon actually seemed pleased to answer, his shoulders relaxing a bit as he plunged his hands in the pockets of his jacket. 

“- No, only part time. It’s just a way to have enough money to pay my rent and the groceries, even if I grew to love the job, it’s not what I want to do with my life.

- And what is your dream then ?

- Music. 

- I could’ve guessed.”

Jooyeon quickly glanced at you, his eyes widening in surprise. And it was his turn to feel his heart beat faster at the fact that you had noticed that about him even if it was only your first real conversation. 

“- How ? Are you a witch ?

- Maybe, who knows ?

- I’ll take care to not piss you off then, I don’t want you to cast a spell on me.”

You giggled at his joke, and the grin that stretched his lips was starting to get more attractive and less annoying as time went on.

“- Seriously, I often see you with your bass, and there’s this guy who always comes by with a guitar. It was an easy guess.

- So that means you’re spying on me too, Miss Exibitionist ?”

You couldn’t help the blush that crept up on your cheeks and neck, and you wondered if he would ever stop having that effect on you one day. You looked down at your feet, trying to avoid both his gaze and the fact that you were almost there. Because, strangely enough, you didn’t want this moment to end, you wanted to keep talking to him, you wanted to know more about him. 

“- In your dreams, Smarty pants.

- You really don’t know how to lie, darling. That’s cute.”

The compliment left you a blushing mess, your heart missing a beat everytime your hand brushed against Jooyeon’s fingers as you both walked slower now that you could see your building from where you were. You didn’t want this night to end yet, but maybe it was ambitious of you to think that anything could happen between you and him so soon. Though, you didn’t think that you read all the signs wrong, so why not shoot your shot after all ?

“- Wanna know the truth then ?

- Go on, that's all I’ve been waiting for.”

You took a breath before stopping in front of your building door (an exit if it didn’t end like you wished for), keeping eye-contact with him as you spilled everything.

“- I liked it when you watched me, I liked it everytime you teased me, and if we hadn’t been interrupted, I probably would’ve let you kiss me last time. I kept looking at you because I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened and I wished you could’ve caught me again. Maybe I am the creep in the end.”

Jooyeon stayed quiet for a few seconds, and you were already about to apologize for being so straightforward and making things weird when he cupped your face in between his hands and crashed his lips against yours. It was your turn to be surprised, eyes widening and your hands falling on his shoulders because you didn’t know what to do with them. But as Jooyeon moved his lips against yours, you slowly melted in the kiss, your arms going to wrap around his neck and pulling him even closer to you as you kissed him back just as fervently. 

“- I’ve wanted to do that ever since I got a glimpse of your pretty pussy, darling. I couldn’t stop thinking about you either, you were always in my mind, driving me fucking crazy. 

- Please, Jooyeon, don’t tease anymore.

- I’ll tease you another time. Right now, I just want you. Come back to my place ?

- Fuck, yes, I can’t wait anymore.”

Jooyeon laughed at your eagerness, grabbing your hand to lead you to the entrance of his building, quickly pushing you into the elevator and not even waiting for the doors to close to attack your lips again. You were pressed between his body and the wall, his fingers tracing a line from your knee to your inner thigh over the thighs you were wearing with your skirt, soft gasps escaping the both of you as your tongues found each other.

You barely registered the sound of the elevator doors opening, only acknowledging that you were at Jooyeon’s floor when he detached himself from you and held your hand again to guide you to his apartment. His hands were shaking a little as he unlocked the door, and you couldn’t help but think that there definitely was a cuter side to him. A side you will not search for tonight apparently as he lifted you in his arms as soon as he closed the door behind him, carrying you to his bedroom with ease, his lips never leaving yours. He sat down on his bed, letting you straddle his lap, his boner pressing against your clothed heat.

“- You’re so pretty Y/N… I couldn’t help myself when I saw you this day, couldn’t detach my eyes from you.

- I’m glad you didn’t. I loved it.

- I could tell.”

His teasing smile was starting to drive you insane, and you cupped his face and captured his lips again to shut him up, which Jooyeon wasn’t mad about because he was already addicted to your taste. His hands went to take a hold of your waist, encouraging you to rock your hips against him. He let out a low groan at the friction, and you immediately drowned out his sound in your mouth, swallowing your own whines of pleasure. Without any words, Jooyeon took advantage of his strength to change the position and lay you down on his mattress, expertly starting to undress you, his eyes devouring every new part of your bare skin that was exposed to him.

“- Not fair, get rid of some clothes too.”

Jooyeon chuckled at the way you were pouting, trying to push away his jacket that he didn’t care enough to take off before taking you to his room. 

“- Eager, are we darling ?

- Shut up, you’re the one who couldn’t keep his hands for himself in the elevator. 

- Touché.”

He grinned at you as he discarded his clothes one by one, too slowly to your liking, but at the same time you were drinking in his toned body, your mind already drifting to all the ways you wanted him to ruin you, to all the ways you wanted to worship him. 

“- Happy now ?

- Very. Come here.”

Jooyeon didn’t waste any more time to get on top of your now naked body again, his lips crashing on yours for the ninth time of the night. But you weren’t going to complain, especially not when he started to let his hands wander around, his feather-like touches brushing against your hips, your shoulders, your collarbone and your stomach, leaving you shivering and yearning for more. At this point, Jooyeon was too impatient to let things drag even more, sneaking one of his hands between your thighs and groaning when he found you already wet for him.

In any other circumstances, you would’ve certainly felt ashamed of how excited you were, but considering that Jooyeon had already seen a lot for someone you barely knew, the embarrassment quickly died and pleasure took over you as his thumb circled your clit slowly, but applying enough pressure to make your head spin and get some whines to slip past your lips. Jooyeon didn’t know whether he wanted to focus on your gorgeous face or on the way your pussy was glistening, literally dripping for him in a way that made him hungry, hungry for you, hungry for your taste. 

“- You’re gonna let me touch your pretty cunt, darling ?

- Yes, please…

- Good girl.”

The nickname paired with one of his fingers sliding inside of you made you moan out. Your thighs tried to close on their own, but Jooyeon was quick to pin one of your legs down, keeping you in place for him to thrust his finger slowly. 

“- Feels good ? 

- Hm, yeah, give me another one.

- You’re so greedy for my fingers, baby. It’s cute.”

You didn’t have the mind to find something clever to answer him when he pushed another finger inside of you, eliciting another moan from you. You couldn’t tell him that you actually touched yourself several times to the thought of his fingers replacing yours. You couldn’t tell him how bad you had wished this would come true. But from the way you were clenching around his fingers, Jooyeon understood, his pretty grin not leaving his lips as he bent down to kiss and mark your neck.

“- Jooyeon…

- My name’s sounds so good in your mouth, fuck…”

If anything, your little whimpers only encouraged him to speed up his movements, lewd noises from how wet you were echoing through the room as Jooyeon silenced his own sounds by sucking some hickeys on your collar bones. And then, he let his mouth wander lower, his lips closing around your right nipple, his eyes never leaving yours as he licked it. You could feel his smile against your skin when you moaned louder, your hands flying to his head and tangling in between his blond strands of hair. 

“- I’m close, I’m gonna cum.”

Jooyeon groaned around your left nipple that he decided to attack too, keeping up the rhythm of his fingers and only slightly changing the angle of his hand so that his palm would put pressure on your clit too. Being stimulated from so many different areas at the same time brought you right to the edge, and you only needed one more push of his fingers inside of you to cum, your whole body trembling as Jooyeon tried to keep his pace steady, only coming at a stop when you pried him away from you. And he made a show of lifting his hand up to his mouth, licking his fingers clean from your release, intentionally moaning when he did so just to see you bite down on your lips and look at him with lust playing in your eyes. 

“- You taste so good, shit… I’ll never get enough of that.”

This time, it was on your lips that a smirk grew, knowing that you had the power to ruin him with only your pussy. So when you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to be able to kiss him again, it was not entirely innocent, only meant to make him lose his mind a little bit more. And you succeeded ; soon enough, Jooyeon was moaning into your mouth as you let your hands roam around his body, his own unable to detach themselves from your curves either. 

“- Let me ride you, please, I wanna make you feel good too.

- Anything you want, darling.”

Jooyeon let you get on top of him, his hands immediately taking a hold of your waist as you started to grind against his rock hard cock. It was pretty, and you couldn’t wait for the moment you would have it inside of you, but it was only fair that you teased him a little too. 

“- You’re so wet Y/N, so damn wet for me right ?

- You think it’s for you ?

- Yeah, I do. Don’t pretend you weren’t crying for my fingers two minutes ago, darling.”

For once, his grin quickly disappeared as you sank down on him as soon as he finished talking, desire taking over his features and his eyes closing shut as he tried to conceal the fact that he was deep inside of you, your velvety walls squeezing him so tight he could barely think anymore. 

“- F-Fuck… You can’t do that baby…

- Why not ? Can’t handle my pussy, Smarty pants ?

- Take care, Miss Exhibisinist, you’re the one that will end up begging by the end of the night if you don’t watch your mouth.”

But again, you were the one to shut him up this time as you slowly got up and dropped back on his cock, forcing another moan out of him, his hands gripping hard on your waist. You knew he could overpower you so easily if he wanted to, but right now, he seemed helpless underneath you, his breath hitching in his throat as you started to roll your hips in a way that made him feel like he was seeing heaven. 

“- Not so cocky now, uh ?

- Shut up.”

But Jooyeon wasn’t convincing anymore with the way he tried to conceal his moans by biting his lips every time you dropped down on his dick. He felt so good inside of you, his length able to reach so deep you weren’t sure if you could go back to your stupid toys ever again. Your hands found his waist and you rested them there as you leaned down to kiss on his neck, spending a little more time on his prominent Adam's apple that had been driving you crazy since the first day. His grip on your hips tightened again, and he threw his head back at the change of angle and rhythm - you were going slower, but deeper, allowing him to feel every inch of your tight cunt and he was losing his mind.

“- Y/N…

- My name sounds so good in your mouth…”

The sly smirk on your lips as you whispered the words right back at him in his ears was what did it for him. Jooyeon had enough of you playing with him, he wanted to have his fun too. As if you weighed nothing, he easily lifted you from his cock and threw you on the mattress, maneuvering you into the position he wished - your head buried into his pillow, ass up for him to slap and relishing in the way you whined loudly. 

“- Don’t scream like that except if you want everyone to know that you’re a slut darling.

- Joo, please… 

- Please what ? Use your words.

- Please, just fuck me, please, I need you…

- Much better, good girl.”

It was the second time he gave you this nickname, you were probably never going to get used to the way it made your insides swirl. And especially not when Jooyeon pushed his cock inside of you at the same time, forcing you to bite down on his pillow to quiet down your noises. His iron grip on your waist only added to the mess in between your thighs, and the way he was panting and moaning with each one of his powerful thrust didn’t help to calm you down either. 

“- Shit… You’re taking me so good baby, it’s like you were made for me. Prettiest ass I’ve ever seen.”

He punctuated his sentence by another slap to your cheeks, bringing tears to your eyes and making you clench around him again. You were so fucked out at this point that the only thing going through your mind was Jooyeon and the way he was smoothly aiming for your sweet spot with each one of his thrust, the filthy sound of his skin slapping against yours pushing you closer to the edge. 

“- Harder, please… 

- You want it harder ?”

And he did pounded into you harder, your voice cracking as you screamed his name louder than you thought yourself capable of.

“- Like this darling ?”

His pace picked up again, one hand against the back of your neck to keep you in place and let him fuck you rough, his own moans mixing with your weak mewls.

“- Yes, yes… So good, Joo…”

He couldn’t even bring himself to feel proud about the way he ruined you, too lost himself in the way you were clenching around him for any coherent thought to pass by his brain anymore, only wanting to make you cum around him. And it wasn’t long before you whined louder, your body trembling in his hands as you closed your eyes shut, pleasure coursing through your veins like never before. Jooyeon tried to hold on as much as he could, slowly dragging his cock inside of you to prolong your orgasm but the way you got impossibly tighter around him was the death of him.

“- Fuck, I need to cum too baby. Where do you want it ?”

You turned your head to the side as best as you could to look at him, your hair sticking to your forehead due to how sweaty you were but the intensity of your gaze was enough for Jooyeon to feel his stomach clench.

“- In my mouth, gonna work my witch magic on you.

- Fuck, yeah, do whatever you want to me.”

The lazy smile on your lips as Jooyeon pulled out of you and you crawled to him turned him on beyond what he thought was possible. When you were close enough, you didn’t lose any more time and put his pretty cock in your mouth, licking him clean of your own essence. The moan he let out could only be described as sinful, tempting. And it was enough to spur you on to relax your throat enough to bury the rest of his length inside of your mouth. It only took one swipe of your tongue to the side of his cock, one glance at your pretty doe eyes looking up at him, at your mouth full of him for Jooyeon to cum too. And like the good girl you were for him, you swallowed it all, licking your lips clean of the last remains of his release while he stared at you, hypnotized. 

“- God, you’re too good at this…”

You chuckled as you kissed him, and Jooyeon happily welcomed you, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer to him.

“- Glad to know that you liked it.

- That’s an understatement. Do I need to show you how grateful I am ?”

You hit his shoulder playfully at the double meaning of his words, but you couldn’t stop the smile that took over your face. Jooyeon pushed away a strand of your messy hair, tucking it behind your ear. And suddenly, you could feel that the atmosphere had shifted. The next kiss you shared was much more intimate, much more telling than whatever word you could’ve told each other. You let yourself melt in his embrace, and when he locked his eyes with yours again, you weren’t surprised by the soft look on his face - even if it did make your heart skip a beat. 

“- Go out on a date with me, Y/N. I don’t want this to be only a one-night stand.

- Me neither. I’ll go on a date with you.”

And Jooyeon’s gummy smile as you kissed his cheeks to seal your deal was really all you needed to warm your lonely nights. You had never been more glad to not have hung up some curtains on your windows.

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.

xdh taglist (fill in this to be added) :

@lala-----------lala

[screechthemighty]

Speaking of mentor figures, how about grieving the loss of one? Bit of a short update, but hey, an update's an update. AO3 link will be in a reblog, but here's the full chapter!

crash and burn (and then return again) | a titanfall 2 fanfic part three

.

The next day brought paperwork.

So, so much paperwork.

His recounting of Typhon could be given entirely in writing since he still struggled with being verbal. Writing it down was hard, but even the thought of giving a verbal interview, of having to actually talk about what he’d gone through, exhausted him. In writing, he could be concise, dispassionate, pretend it happened to some other poor SOB named Jack and he was just recounting it.

It didn’t really work that way, but at least he ended up crying in private and not on camera.

After the paperwork, it was time for another exam. The medic remembered him from last time and kept the AAC tablet out in case he needed it, which he appreciated. Fortunately, he was able to work his way up from one-word answers to short sentences as the exam went on.

Physically, he needed rest and to eat well. Psychologically, there were people he could speak to planet side that would help him out with this “difficult period.” He was given leave papers and a referral to a therapist who had experience working with autistic clients. “I’m not sure how much time you’ll be able to take, but take as much as you can,” the doctor said. “I’ve seen too many pilots burn out from overwork, and you’ve been through something unique.”

Not that unique after Broadsword, Cooper thought, but didn’t say. That was a bit too much for him to get out of his mouth at the moment, and at any rate, it felt a little too dark. You got used to gallows humor when you were in the military, but…

No, it was too soon to comment on either situation.

Cooper was walking from the med bay and debating whether he should risk getting food or just go back to sleep when Sarah Briggs rounded the corner. “Cooper, there you are,” she said. “How are you holding up?”

Bad was the first word that came to mind, but he shoved it back quickly. “Physically fit, ma’am,” he said instead.

“Glad to hear it. Did they get you set up with leave papers?” Cooper showed them to her, but kept the psych referral tucked in the back. “That’s good. Any family on Harmony?”

Cooper shook his head. All his family were still on Persephone, and he wasn’t sure he was ready to face the whole gaggle of his cousins, anyway. “I might.” Cooper paused to fully form the sentence in his head. “Someone I know might be stationed there. She’s with logistics.”

“She’ll probably be there, then. You’re more than welcome to visit. I know the head of R&D wants a word once you’re planet side. And…” Briggs hesitated. “Cassie…Captain Lastimosa’s niece, I don’t know if you knew about her…she may not know yet.”

Cooper’s chest ached. He did know about Cassie. Lastimosa had talked about her more than once. He was a little surprised that she didn’t know by now, but maybe they wanted to tell her in person. “She’ll probably have questions,” Briggs continued. “I don’t know if you’ll be up for it, but…”

“I’ll talk to her,” Cooper said. It would hurt, but… “She should hear it from me.” He’d been there when Lastimosa died. Stepped into his gear, his Titan, his mission. It was only right that she got the whole story from him.

Briggs nodded. “That’s kind of you. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.”

Appreciate probably wasn’t the right word, but Cooper didn’t want to think about that right now. A new question was gnawing at him, demanding some kind of answer. “What happens to me after, ma’am?”

Briggs didn’t hesitate. “Like I said, you’ve more than earned your pilot’s certification. They’ll probably want to run you through all the entrance tests, just to check where you need additional training, but that’s it. You’re one of us now, Cooper, if you still want to be.”

If all that stuff about parallel timelines was true, there was a Jack Cooper who was overjoyed to be getting that news. A Jack Cooper who had earned his way in under less bloody circumstances and felt he had the right to celebrate. The Cooper he was, though, could only feel a hollow ache.

He would have given up his dream of becoming a pilot in a heartbeat if it meant Lastimosa and BT could live.

But it didn’t work that way, and backing out now felt like spitting on everything Lastimosa had ever done for him. So, Cooper nodded. “I do want that,” he said. “Thank you, ma’am.”

He had to be worthy of Lastimosa’s sacrifice now. Worthy of all the trust and belief the man had put in him.

Worthy of all the trust and belief BT had put in him, too.

No matter what it took.

[littlejuicebox]

LittleJuicebox Masterlist

Click here for my AO3 account. (Converting is a WiP).

If you’d like to be added to a tag list, please DM me and I can send you the google doc link. I have decided to keep tag lists for each individual series so you only get tagged in the ones you want.

My personal favorites are denoted by a +.

GN reader is denoted by a * otherwise assume Fem reader/OC.

Titles colored red are smut or other mature themes, 18+ only.

AstarionxWren Series:

This is a canon-adjacent passion project which focuses on Astarion and Wren, a ranger half-elf with her own backstory. She is based off my first Tav. Do you like angsty slow burns where two broken people find one another and learn to love again? Then this one is for you.

Chapter 1 / Chasing birds to get high (PG) + Chapter 2 / Between comfort and chaos (PG) Chapter 3 / Sunshine and midnight rain (PG13) + Chapter 4 / Protect the flames (M/Gore) Chapter 5 / Blue and silver bonded (PG13) Chapter 6 / Remember how it feels to have a heartbeat (PG13) Chapter 7 / Give peace a chance (M/Smut) + Chapter 8 / Dancing in a burning room (M/Gore) Chapter 9 / Lavender haze (PG-PG13?) Chapter 10 / I want to hold your hand (PG13)

Midnight Chimes Series:

Your parents own a tavern in Baldur’s Gate, and Astarion was somewhat of a regular when you worked at the bar in your younger years. You don’t exactly trust him. Now you’re an apothecary owner based in Waterdeep, and when the two of you crash on the beach, you aren’t exactly thrilled to see him there, too. But things aren’t always what they seem.

1 / The Prologue +

2 / Three years

3 / Luck +

4/ Ringleader

Midwinter Carol Series:

Eirianwen and Astarion were in love before the Ascension ritual changed his behavior toward her. She refused to become a spawn, and they went their separate ways. The story starts when they run into one another fifteen years later; Eirianwen returned to the city to deliver some news to the pale elf. Meanwhile, the Ascendant had a night time visitor that convinced him to change his ways, and he believes his ex-lover might be the key. Will he be able to change after fifteen years of living life as a debauched degenerate?

1 / The Prologue +

2 / The Barrier

3 / The Carriage

4 / The Auction +

5/ The Repeat

6/ The Affliction

7/ The Interrogation

8/ The Scheme

9/ The Snake

AstarionxReader One Shots and Mini-Stories:

Mini-Stories are grouped together in order and denoted by a “Part X” in sequential order after the title. These are in general "timeline" order and follow my (admittedly self-indulgent) headcanon for Spawn Astarion x Tav but can definitely be read as OneShots. All stories are AstarionxReader, some allusions to reader having spellcaster ability but otherwise no real description apart from being female in about 3/4 of the fics.

Act 1-2:

The little things.

Before someone steals your queen

Act 3:

Drunken nights*+

The nail salon

You'll stay still, won't you, little love? +

Post-BG3:

Mermaid whiskey+

Baking Cookies*

Astarion talks in his sleep Part 1*+

My Sun, My Moon Part 2+

Glowing in the Underdark+

Reflections on one year of marriage

Highharvestide Part 1

Highharvestide Part 2

Handmade+

Dadstarion:

The wish spell worked.+

Daddy?

Little bump.

Labor and joy

Skin to skin.

Milk.+

Little lockpick.

Beach babies.+

A growing brood.

Puppy love.

Stuck.

Pre-BG3 / Random / Ascended Astarion OneShots

Midnight chimes / The Original One Shot

Pre-BG3. You’ve known Astarion for years… or at least, you’ve known of him. You think he’s a rake, but one night he changes your mind. The series "Midnight Chimes" started based off this "prologue."

A Midwinter Carol / The Original One Shot

“A Christmas Carol” but Ascended Astarion is Scrooge. He sees you after your break up 15 years ago, and then has an unexpected nighttime visitor showing him past, present, and future. Will he be convinced to change his ways? The series "Midwinter Carol" started based off this "prologue."

Naughty or Nice?

You’re Ascended Astarion’s little toy in the middle of a party. TLDR; he’s tease and a BDSM dom.

Dancing on my own

[fayes-fics]

When The World Is Free: Chapter 12 - Je T'ai Dans La Peau

MASTERPOST PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, WW2 AU.

Warnings: Teen-rated... non-graphic references to sex/sexual situations.

Word Count: 2.7k

Author’s Note: Multi-chapter fic based on a request by the lovely @amillcitygirl. Please see the masterpost for a synopsis of this story. Our couple are sneaking around Aubrey Hall, trying to get time alone together, but it was always going to be noticed by a certain eagle-eyed mama. Sorry this has taken a while, life got very busy. Thanks as always to @colettebronte for beta reading. Enjoy!

Aubrey Hall, UK, September/October 1939

It's the early hours when you finally get a moment alone with Benedict.

Throughout the evening, including a raucous but entertaining family dinner, your attempts are stymied at every turn. At the end of the evening, Eloise shows you to your guest room and lingers long after you have gotten ready for bed, waxing lyrical about Phillip, her plans to get a place in London (“Come with me!”) and her ambitions to get a job at the British Library. 

You listen as intently as you can, but your eyes droop as you climb under the covers, the bed so plush, promising her you are still listening even when you settle into the pillows. At some point, you drift off, maybe her as well, but when you awaken, your wristwatch says it is after midnight, and she is gone from your room.

Just as you are drifting again, there is a soft knock at your door. You wonder if you heard correctly at first, but when it happens again, you sleepily alight from your bed. Upon opening, the sight before you has you wide awake - Benedict, looking cosy but dashing in navy blue silk pyjamas. After a quick check that the corridor is clear, you grab his arm and haul him into your room, closing and locking the door behind you.

You look at each other, breathing heavily for a beat, then crash into each other, him grabbing you and hauling you off the ground into his arm, your legs winding instantly around his hips as you kiss greedily, hungrily. He groans, cupping your jaw and kissing you more, always kissing, until you are breathless for air. Your need for him is like an eternal flame, burning slowly all the time, but the second he touches you, it roars, awakening something primal, a physical need that burns your lungs and aches deep inside.

“Can we?” 

“Can we what…?” He replies, lips sliding to your neck.

“Have sex?” 

“Oh god…I didn't bring protection,” Benedict rues, sinking his forehead onto your shoulder.

“Benedict!” you whine, a touch petulant.

“I’m sorry… I will go get it…” he offers apologetically.

“Don't you dare leave me again so soon,” you growl, winding yourself tighter around him.

He chuckles. “Then perhaps maybe we can just find pleasure in other ways…” his promise dusky as he lowers you onto the bed.

Half an hour later, you are staring at the ceiling, panting, utterly sated as he once again used his mouth to bring you to a shaking pinnacle, your cries muffled into a pillow.

“We must find somewhere private,” he sighs, his face resting on your belly as you card your fingers through his thick hair. “I like to hear you scream…” his wistful, cheeky addition makes you gasp and swat him gently on the shoulder. He laughs heartily and crawls up over you on all fours. “We can steal away somewhere on the grounds where no one would find us,” he assures, eyes shining in the low lamplight.

“I shall keep you to that promise, Mr Bridgerton,” you threaten softly, pushing his shoulders until he lies on his back, you hovering over him now. “Do you think you are capable of being as quiet as I was?”

“Why do you ask?” a flicker of confusion over his face, until your hand slides down his flat stomach and lands upon the warm bulge in his pyjamas.

“I would like to return the favour…” you offer, as his breath hitches beautifully. “I have never used my mouth as such, but you will teach me, won't you? Tell me what you like?”

His groan is like music as you shuffle lower, looking up at him with fluttering eyelashes as he stares down at you with utter devotion.

—

Bright sunlight slices through a gap in the heavy velvet curtains when you stir, sad to be alone. Benedict said he would leave at some point in the night but insisted you fall asleep in his arms. 

As you descend the main staircase, Eloise catches up to you, looping your arm in hers and dragging you to breakfast. It's a far cry from your trips to the boulangerie together for croissants. It is a full buffet with gleaming silver chafing dishes lined up on a sideboard.

“Is your life here always like this?” your mind boggles as you help yourself to scrambled eggs and some bacon.

“Yeah, pretty much. Boring, right?” She pulls a face.

“Your idea of boring is so very different to mine…” you respond drolly, pouring a cup of coffee and taking a seat at the ornate, long dining table.

No one else appears to be taking breakfast now, but as Eloise natters away, you always have one eye on the doorway, hopeful Benedict will come in. But he doesn't, so you agree to a post-breakfast walk around the estate with her to enjoy the unseasonably warm, early autumn day. 

However, as you head to the door, Violet appears as if from nowhere.

“Eloise dearest, I hope you did not forget our plans today…?”

You watch Eloise turn around in slow motion, a pained expression on her face. “Surely that can wait?” she appeals before tilting her head back towards you. “Mother is under the impression that now I am back home, I wish to join the Woman’s Institute,” 

“We only meet once a month, and today is that day,” Violet attests, looking at her expectantly. “You have been abroad for the best part of a year, my dear; I would appreciate this quality time with you.”

It's the most loving, motherly manipulation, and you can tell by the way Eloises’s shoulders slump that she cannot argue that point.

“Come with me?” she appeals brightly, tugging your arm.

“Only members are allowed, my dear.” Violet cuts in calmly. “Next month, I can petition for y/n here to join, but she would have to wait until then.”

As you observe their back-and-forth, Benedict appears, wandering down the main staircase, dressed casually in a collarless shirt and brown trousers. He looks so good that you are tongue-tied, wanting to run to him and jump into his arms. You realise you are staring and have to tear your eyes away quickly, but it's too late. You can feel Violet’s watchful eye, made worse by knowing you have a darkening blush over your cheeks.

“Good morning, ladies,” he breezes, doffing an imaginary cap that makes his wedding ring catch the sunlight.

“Benedict dear, Eloise and I are off to Canterbury today. But perhaps you could show y/n around the estate grounds while we are out?” Violet breezes, fixing her son with a winning smile.

His eyes shoot to you and yours to his, a warm flicker behind your ribs at the thought you get a few hours alone together.

“Yes, no problem,” he smiles, attempting nonchalance.

“Don't do anything I wouldn't do…” is her parting shot as she gently drags Eloise towards the car outside.

“That covers a lot of ground; she's surprisingly daring,” Benedict states drolly as you watch them pile into the vehicle.

“Do you think she suspects something?” you ask faintly as you both stand in the doorway waving.

“Perhaps…” he concedes, not looking at you. “I suspect this was at least partially engineered. Not that I am complaining,” he adds hurriedly as the car pulls away.

“Same…” you offer quietly, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

—

You are staring at the wispy clouds puffing gently over the sky, the long grass lush under your back, the midday early autumnal sun warm on your skin as you lay naked, entwined together in post-coital bliss on a remote hillside of the estate.

“You kept your promise, Mr Bridgerton, to find us a secluded spot together.” 

His crooked smile is boyish, and his eyes dance in the sunlight. “Indeed, I did. And I greatly enjoyed your screams,” he teases with a wink.

“Stop it,” you demure, burying your face into his armpit, enjoying the scent of his skin there.

“Don't be bashful now,” he chuckles, rearranging your bodies so you are under him, his head resting upon your chest. “I would keep any promise I made to you,” he continues after a pause. His tone sincere, his breath dusting warm over your nipple, and his ear pressed to the skin on your sternum as if listening to your heartbeat.

“And I to you,” you confess, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, fingers mapping a constellation of freckles near his shoulder blade.

“Will you be wanting a divorce?” his question is almost hesitant—like he is torn between wanting to know and not know all at once.

“Would you want one?” you volley back, knowing it’s cowardly to answer his question with another.

“I see no reason to,” his words are quiet as he tilts his chin to look at you. “I do not plan to marry another,” he adds pointedly.

“Me neither…” you answer, meeting his gaze imploringly, wanting him to believe it. The last thing you want to do is go back to America now. You want to stay here with him—for as long as he will permit.

“You will stay here?” There is a hopeful lilt in his voice, his left hand lacing with yours, wedding rings pressed together.

“I have my freedom to remain in this country. I wish to be nowhere else but here…” Your answer is so dangerously close to a confession of what you genuinely feel, but you hold back, even as you know your heart is now thudding hard under his ear.

“Here with me?” he flips up onto all fours and climbs over you, that beguiling smile seeming to capture his whole face.

“Yes, with you, if you’ll have me…” you smile back at him as he looms above, his face in shadow, his hair a riotous halo around his head, backlit by the sun.

“Oh, I will have you plenty of times…” his promise dusky as his lips land on yours.

“That sounds like a promise, Mr Bridgerton…” you join in the banter between kisses.

“And you know I keep my promises,” he smirks before grasping both of your hands in his and stretching them into the tangle of wildflowers above your heads as you get lost in each other's bodies again.

—

And so it continues, night after night, days becoming weeks. Stealing away precious moments together whenever possible, knowing the risk you are running but unable to resist any opportunity, physical longing takes over, falling into each other, desperate and yearning. As if a part of you lives under each other's skin. Every night, he comes to your room long after the house is asleep, and every night, you fracture around him, your ecstatic cries muffled into his dewy skin.

The clandestine nature is partly not wanting to confess to Eloise but also to keep it a secret from the world—a precious, rare thing, just a fledgling you want to shelter. Give it time to breathe and grow. Although, on some level, you know that Violet knows. Her glances at you both, when you are in the same room, feigning nothing untoward, are too pointed. Yet she says nothing outright. 

It's two weeks since you settled into Aubrey Hall when Eloise is in a sour mood one morning. She had just received a phone call from Phillip, and you suspect their London rendezvous has been delayed again.

“Why the hell are you still wearing that?” she grouses uncharitably, pointing at your wedding ring.

“It means a lot to me; it’s a symbol of our escape,” your answer is a partial truth.

Eloise can’t seem to find fault with that, so swings her attention elsewhere. “So what's your excuse?” she gruffs to Benedict, who is reading the paper on the opposite sofa.

Across the room, you sense Violet's pause in her jigsaw puzzle.

“Why does the jewellery I wear bother you so much, sister?” he evades, crumpling down his newspaper to shoot her a withering glance. “I’ve never heard you comment upon my signet ring.”

“That's completely different, and you know it,” Eloise decries. “That's a ring you inherited from Dad. Also, where were you last night?” She abruptly changes the subject.

“What do you mean?” he bristles slightly.

“I went to your room late to borrow the Agatha Christie book you stole,” she pauses to pull a pointed face. “And you weren't there. Your bed didn't even look like it had been slept in.”

“Are you my mother now?” he rebuffs airily. “If you must know, I couldn't sleep either; I was out.”

“Your car was here…”

“Out as in outside,” he shoots back, “walking the grounds by moonlight.”

He's not lying. He is, however, omitting the fact that you were with him. The summer house by the lake has become your new clandestine spot, fashioning a comfortable bed of towels and pool lounger cushions. You can make love passionately in secret without fear of interruption or being overheard, falling asleep wrapped in each other as you stare out of the French doors at the blanket of stars reflecting on the still water.

Eloise gives him a lingering side-eye but returns to the book—Agatha Christie’s Death on the Nile. Once she is distracted, your eyes dart to Benedict, and he gives you a reassuring smile that you can't help but mirror, even as Violet peers at you mutely once again.

—

Later that day, you are perusing books in Anthony’s office when a painting of a man who looks remarkably like Benedict makes you stop short. Violet seems to materialise beside you.

“My husband, Edmund,” she explains, her voice wistful and evocative of the ache of lost love, undulled by the passage of time. “True love is a wondrous thing; never let it slip through your fingers, and treasure every moment,” she counsels, twisting to look at your face.

“I would never,” you answer quietly, even as you steadfastly refuse to do the same, staring at the painting, heart speeding up.

“That's a good thing, my dear, and don’t worry about the judgement of others, especially those who are spirited and headstrong.” She can only be referring to Eloise: “They all come around eventually, believe me.”

At that, you have to look at her askance, unable to hide the nerves on your face. “You know?” unable to resist any longer.

“I know my children better than they know themselves,” she responds lightly, “and I certainly know when they are hiding something,” she adds softly, saying but not saying so much.

It feels like a weight is lifted from your heart, the undeniable urge to confess to someone - unable to do so to your usual companion.

“I have no idea how to tell Eloise,” you rush out. “This was never my plan, not what I intended to happen,” you clarify. “Benedict sacrificed his future to give me my freedom.”

“You sacrificed yours too…” she gently interrupts.

“But I never wanted mine,” you admit, your eyes drifting back up to the handsome man in the painting as if admitting it to Benedict’s dad as much as his mum at your side. “At least, not once I met your son…. I thought I knew what I wanted in life. But I was a fool. And now… I….” you trail off, unable to finish.

“You love him, don't you?” It's a delicate, comforting inflexion.

“I can barely believe it myself; it's been such a short period of time. But yes…” you admit sotto voce, hanging your head as a tear wells in the corner of your eye.

“As I said, I know my children better than they know themselves,” she repeats, wrapping an arm around your back, “and I know when one of them is hopelessly in love.”

Your head jerks up in surprise, and you finally look into her kindly gaze, your heart a kaleidoscope.

“Yes, my dear. It may take him a while to say it,” she qualifies, “but it's no less true.”

That tear escapes your eye as she pulls you into a motherly hug. Already knowing this will be a secret you keep between you, for now at least.

“Welcome to the family, y/n.”

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[nxtt2-u]

⏤ sugar cube ࣪ ⤹

you visit your baker boyfriend of seven months for a surprise breakfast date at his café.

꒰ lee felix + fem!reader ⏤ 2.2k words ꒱ oneshot

༄ content info & warnings !! established relationship. non idol au ; baker!felix. fluff & light crack(?) ⋆ some swearing & felix says something suggestive like once.

✉️𓂃 ࣪˖ the song that hyunjin sings along to is camp by basecamp! it inspired me to write this (despite the lyrics having nothing to do w the plot) so i strongly recommend you give it a listen :) this is lowk a filler fic cs i’m still working on that seungmin slow burn.. but enjoy nonetheless! feedback is always appreciated <3 unedited as of 8/17!

When you step into the cozy café your boyfriend owns, the small bell above the door cheerfully announces your arrival with a loud jingle. You slide your phone into the back pocket of your jeans and tread over to the counter with a yawn.

It’s quiet today, you note, and you discover why when your gaze drifts over to the usually-packed seats of the shop. You’re the only customer right now — it must be so empty because it’s not even seven yet, you conclude. With a tiny nod to yourself, you turn back to the display case stacked full of fresh sweet treats and lean down to get a better view, despite seeing the exact same selection every time you come here.

“Welcome to Sugar Cube Café!” A friendly voice calls out from the stock room. You look up and trace the sound to its source, finding the dark brown door to the space ajar. The voice continues, though it sounds a bit more winded now. “Someone will be with you in just a moment!”

“Take your time,” you call back in response and go back to peering down at the pastries on display. You silently contemplate on whether you should try something new as an upbeat song floats through the small shop.

A loud crash suddenly sounds from the back room and you jolt in surprise, blinking with bemusement. A second later, a familiar lanky man with a black mullet stumbles out, his fluffy hair mussed and the signature red apron of the café he wears slightly rumpled from all the commotion. You smile, biting back a giggle at your friend’s clumsiness, and he returns it as he moves to man the register.

“Hey!” Hyunjin says brightly as he presses palms down to lean on the counter. “Haven’t seen you in a while! What would you like today?”

You open your mouth to respond, but the barista doesn’t give you the opportunity to speak before his own mouth is running again. “Hold on, you never visit unless…” He quirks a brow, still grinning a bit toothily at you. “Are you here to actually buy a sweet treat for once or just to see your boyfriend?”

You roll your eyes, but the smile on your face contrasts the seemingly-irritated action so strongly that Hyunjin knows you’re not truly annoyed. “Actually—” you start, but he scoffs in a knowing tone before you can finish.

Hyunjin feigns hurt as he dramatically slaps a hand over his heart. “How could you!” He wails, since no other customers are currently present due to the early hour. “And here I was,” he continues with a sniffle, “thinking you’d come to visit and try one of our delicious treats for once.”

You punch him in the arm in playful reproach and he whines loudly, hopping further away from you despite the already considerable distance between you two due to the counter. “I do visit for the treats, not just my gorgeous man,” you huff. He ignores you in favor of clutching his arm, howling like it’s a damn bullet wound. “You’re so annoying,” you sigh to conceal the small chuckle that escapes you as you go back to perusing the pastries.

While you fall quiet and take a moment to contemplate, Hyunjin finally tames his hair and straightens his apron as he quietly sings and sways along to the new song that comes on. You nod along to it for a moment as well before tapping on the glass at Felix’s signature brownies. You’ll just try something new next time.

Hyunjin follows the lyrics into the rap verse of the song as he goes to pull a box of the brownies from the display while you sidle back over to the register to pay. He returns and places it on the counter a minute later, free hand fumbling for a bag as he busies himself with ringing you up.

Just as you remove your card from the reader and prepare to ask Hyunjin about the name of the song, you startle when a deep voice calls from the back. “Hyunjin! What did you do with the flour?”

You grin at the familiar Australian twang that softens the vowels of the newcomer’s words. With an exaggerated sigh, Hyunjin pushes the bag into your hands and wanders to the backroom, quietly closing the door behind him this time.

You slip away from the counter to claim your favorite booth near the windows. As you settle onto the cushion that’s slightly warmed by the fresh sunlight slinking in, you appreciatively admire the plants that hang from the ceiling with a smile. This café is so cozy; you love how Felix and his crew decorated it.

You tug your phone out and begin to mindlessly scroll on social media while you wait for your boyfriend to come and meet you. Without looking, you pull the box of brownies out of the bag, only to jump for the third time today when you look up to find Hyunjin looming over you with a steaming cappuccino in hand.

He sets it down with a snicker. “I was wondering when you’d notice me. I would’ve stood here for an eternity if that’s how long it took, seriously. Anyways, Felix is wrapping up now, so he’ll be out in a sec—”

“No drink for me, Hyunjin?”

You laugh at Hyunjin’s startled expression, pleased to see he’s the one to spook this time. Felix slides into the seat across you with a cheeky grin and Hyunjin mutters something about his blood pressure before he’s bounding across the café and into the back room once more.

Your boyfriend looks spectacular today, as always. Today he’s donned a distressed sleeveless red, white, and black argyle sweater on top of a collared white shirt that also happens to be sleeveless. He’s paired it nicely with a black tie and black jeans to match.

The simple display of his lean muscles has you salivating more than the smell of the freshly baked goods that’s starting to waft into the air from the kitchen. You notice he’s foregone his apron at the moment, presumably because he’s here to sit with you.

Blissfully unaware of the thirsty observations you’re making in your mind, Felix reaches across the table to lace his digits with yours. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming today? I could’ve made you something special, sugar,” he pouts, thumb rubbing small circles onto one of your knuckles.

Your crazed thoughts melt into something softer at his sweetness. You smile at his thoughtfulness and lift your intertwined fingers to splay them out in an attempt to compare hand sizes. “I wanted to surprise you,” you say. You see the beginning of a toothy grin forming on his face at your words, but he quickly stifles it when he sees what you’re trying to do.

He snatches his hand away with a rueful huff when he sees how your hands dwarf his in comparison, and he lightly kicks your shin under the table. “I take it back,” he sniffs in a haughty manner, looking out the window with his nose raised. “I will never make you anything ever again.”

You giggle, bright and gleeful, and it’s not long before he’s breaking into laughter when he sees your face scrunched up in amusement. He’s too cute.

Both of you eventually settle down and you find yourself steadily drinking your cappuccino while he nibbles on the brownies you bought. Hyunjin eventually brings him freshly steamed tea, as your boyfriend has a notorious distaste for coffee despite owning a café, and the two of you chat quietly about your upcoming plans for the weekend.

You’re in the middle of proposing a possible future vacation together when the door bell chimes and three other employees stroll inside, talking loudly amongst themselves with smiles warmed by the sticky heat of summer.

They nearly don’t notice you as they head to accompany Hyunjin in the back, but Jisung swivels around last second and waves with a grin while his coworkers continue to talk. The two of you wave back and resume your conversation when the trio finally piles into the other room.

“So, Jeju Island?” Felix asks, tilting his head slightly. You nod, setting down your now-empty coffee with an affirming hum.

“Yeah, I was thinking maybe we could visit next Spring. I want to visit the Cherry Blossom Festival; it’d be so fun to go together, you know?”

He nods and rests his cheek in his palm with a soft smile. “I’d love that. We can work everything out in more detail as it gets closer, but for now, it’s a date. Right, sugar?”

You grin and intertwine your hands with his once more. “Of course. I look forward to it, baby.”

Someone gags from beside you. You blink and twist to find Minho standing at the foot of your table, grimacing at the two of you in disgust. Felix promptly bursts into laughter at the sight, and you find it hard to keep a straight face when you hear the silly noise.

Once Felix is calm again and has wiped his tears, Minho sets down a to-go box of cookies. “Chan says to take the day off and have fun,” he says, cocking his hip to shift his weight and wincing when it pops. You snort on accident and he glares, though it holds no real heat.

Felix arches a brow. “What? Nah, I have to work today—”

“FELIX!” Someone barks from the back. The Australian accent that blankets the man’s words is a dead giveaway of who the voice belongs to. “I have a feeling you’re refusing right now!” Chan continues to yell. You feel bad for everyone in the same room as him right now.

You expect to hear another shout, but let out a relieved breath when he pokes his head out through the door a second later instead of continuing to destroy the ears of his coworkers. “Just go, man, we got today covered. You deserve a break!”

Felix opens his mouth to protest, but in the blink of an eye you suddenly find yourself pushed outside of the café doors by Jeongin, the newest and youngest employee. His eyes crinkle with the apologetic smile he gives as he locks the door, and the two of you just stare in disbelief as he prances off to the kitchen like he didn’t just kick Felix and his girlfriend out of the café he very owns.

You continue to blink owlishly at the now-locked handle until Felix just puffs out a laugh as he runs a hand through his hair. “Damn, there’s no way he just did that!” He exclaims, loud enough to be heard through the thick glass. Nobody comes out of the kitchen.

“Well, nothing I can do about it now,” he sighs, turning to you with a mischevious grin, despite knowing full well he can just go in through the back. You play along regardless.

“Yeah, it’s a shame right?” You reply, giving a disapproving head shake with a tut. “That’s actually crazy. Well, since you’re off for the rest of the day, we should totally go back to my place and cuddle on my couch to binge watch sad K-Dramas,” you say, twining your hands with his and already starting to drag him down the street.

He lets himself be tugged along and lifts a hand to cover his mouth as he gives a playfully scandalized gasp. “Wow, that’s all you want to do at your place for once? Shocker.”

You slap him on the shoulder and his words dissolve into the snickers you love to hear in his low timbre. Eventually the two of you make it to the metro and file into a car that’s thankfully not full despite the time nearing the start of most people’s work schedules. You manage to snag two empty seats side by side, and he leans onto your shoulder with a pleased sigh as you admire the scenery that whizzes by.

You play with the ends of his blonde locks as his eyes slip shut and he falls into that strange haze between asleep and awake at the gentle touches. Once you’re home, you’ll push him down onto your couch and cup his pretty face. You’ll pepper adoring kisses all over his freckled skin, pressing words of love into his features. You’ll eventually pull away to put on a K-Drama you’ve been meaning to watch, but it’ll quickly be forgotten when Felix tugs you into his lap to return the favor.

But for now, you let your boyfriend rest against your side in this crowded cab of the metro. You pull your gaze away from the windows to instead admire the slope of his nose, the plushness of his lips, and the freckles that dot his cheeks akin to the constellations above.

When his nose crinkles after a few minutes of quiet dozing and he lightly shakes away an oncoming sneeze, you realize with a dopey smile that you’re in love with him. You don’t know how such a small action could abruptly trigger a realization as grand as love, but you can’t wait to show it through delicate caresses and sweet kisses when you get home.

2024 © nxtt2-u on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.

[ladykailitha]

Around the World Part 2

Hello and welcome to the second chapter of this lovely fic. We have all sorts of thrills for you on this one.

A ghost town, a haunted B&B, and Gaming Con Salt Lake City.

Did I spend too much time in Utah? Oh no doubt, but I am a Utah girlie born and bred and I know a bit more about it then anywhere else.

Part 1

~

At breakfast in the little nook the B&B provided for them to eat, Robin was eyeing Eddie and Steve suspiciously.

“I can’t believe you two actually went to bed after we parted for the night,” she huffed. “I was expecting at least some vigorous exercise, if you know what I mean.”

But before either of them could reply, one of the owners came over and tutted at Steve. She was an elderly woman with frizzy hair and half moon glasses. “Do you like to exercise, young man?”

Steve pursed his lips to avoid laughing in his hostess’s face and nodded. “I usually like to go for a run in the morning, but I’m on vacation.” He kicked Robin’s shin for good measure.

“I understand, dear,” she said patting his shoulder. “When we make a habit of something our friends can be a little shocked when we take a break.” She wandered back into the kitchen to get more coffee.

“Did you forget that Eddie and I aren’t supposed to be a couple?” Steve hissed. “It’s a good thing she missed the double entendre otherwise you might have gotten us kicked out.”

Robin threw herself against the back of the chair with a huff and crossed her arms. She looked away and Chrissy whispered to her for a bit while Steve and Eddie ate their food.

“Sorry.”

Suddenly there was a crash and the woman started screaming. “George! She’s done it again! Either she goes or I do!”

Their whole table went silent but everyone around kept going about their business like this happened all the time.

Steve asked a nearby table what that was all about.

“That’s Nessie Thomas,” the man explained. “She’s been haunting this house since she died of the Spanish Flu in 1918. She doesn’t like the way Emma does her eggs and will pull the pans off the shelf to express her displeasure.”

Steve and Robin looked at each other and then started shoveling food in their mouths. Chrissy raised an eyebrow at Eddie in askance.

“Soulmate telepathy,” he said with a shrug. “I think basically, they want to get out of here as fast as possible before the ghost starts throwing something more dangerous than pans.”

Chrissy tilted her head and there was another crash and more screaming from the kitchen.

Her eyes widened and she too started hurrying to finish her breakfast.

“That’s it! George you can have the witch!” Emma screamed. She stomped out of the kitchen and threw her apron on the floor on her way out the door.

Eddie turned to the guy who had told them about the ghost. “Is that normal, too?”

The guy laughed. “Sure is. About once a month Emma declares she’s done and then after two or three days of George nearly running this place into the ground, she comes back with a shit ton of garlic, a bowl of salt, and a crucifix or three.”

That was when Eddie started to hurry up with breakfast. Ghosts were fine, but weaponized incompetence was where he drew the line.

They made it out to their roomy SUV Eddie had rent for their tour of America’s haunted places. They would return it in New Hampshire after touring all the HH Holmes sites, in Pennsylvania for his grave site, Vermont for where he fell the police, and finally New Hampshire for his birthday place. They would see other sites in between in Pennsylvania and New York.

Their final stop was Boston where they would take a flight to Queenstown in Ireland where they would begin their tour of Europe’s haunted places as New Hampshire didn’t have any international flights. So they would take a flight down to Massachusetts, see Salem and the birth place of Edgar Allen Poe and then fly out to Ireland.

Their next stop was Brodie, CA. A ghost town from the Gold rush that mysteriously burned down in the 1930s.

“It’s so creepy,” Robin said as they walked through the town, everything just as people left it all those years ago.

Suddenly there was a large bang and both Eddie and Robin grabbed Steve’s hands, one each, while Chrissy, clutched Eddie’s free arm, burying her face into it.

Steve smiled but wisely said nothing when they wanted to continue, but did not want to let go of his hands. He found the place more sad than creepy. These people thought they were going to get rich and suddenly everything went horribly wrong.

They made it back to the car, his koalas still firmly attached.

“You don’t think there were like, actual ghosts,” Robin asked, “do you?”

Steve merely pursed his lips as the three of them went off on all sorts of theories for the phenomena that went on in that town. From natural gases, to wind, to actual ghosts. They hadn’t reached a consensus by the time Steve hit the freeway.

~

They traveled all over the west and were a little disappointed when the got to Utah and found that Skinwalker Ranch didn’t allow visitors.

“That’s lame,” Chrissy said at the cafe they stopped in after seeing the “no trespassing” signs. “I really wanted to get a closer look at that one.”

A nearby local snorted. “It’s ‘cause they’re filming another season of that show right now. You just came at the wrong time.”

Robin sunk down in bench of their booth and crossed her arms with a pout. “That sucks.”

“There’s always Blind Frog Ranch,” the local suggested. “It’s near here, and you can even book tours.”

Eddie pulled out his phone and within minutes the girls and Eddie had booked a tour while Steve talked to the local. His name was Cary and he had lived in the area his whole life.

“Blind Frog isn’t as famous,” Cary told Steve, “but it’s still a pretty good haunt if you like that sort of thing.”

“Sounds right up our alley,” Steve agreed. “We’ve spent a good couple of days in Vegas at the Monster Museum and Museum of Illusions as well as a couple of others thrown in for fun.”

“You taking in as many sites as you can?”

Steve nodded. “We can do whatever we want as long as we are in Boston for our flight to Ireland in three weeks time.”

“You’re pretty slow going,” Cary said. “You’ve only made it through a third of the country.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, pulling out their map of places they wanted to see. “But we’re from the Midwest and are already familiar with those sites, so we’ll be breezing past those.”

Cary nodded. He pointed to a place on the map. “That there is Fall River. That’s where the Lizzy Borden house is. It’s a bed and breakfast. My niece stayed out there when she was in the state for Halloween in Salem.”

Steve circled it and put a little number on it and then made a note on the side what that was.

“Hey, Eds?” Steve called over his shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“Be sure to book us in the Lizzy Borden B&B.”

Robin and Chrissy shared shocked but excited glances and they bent over Eddie’s phone yet again. This time for a B&B in Massachusetts.

Steve thanked Cary and went back to his table, map firmly in hand.

“Well,” Chrissy said brightly. “It wasn’t a complete wash.” She turned around to where Cary had been sitting to thank him but he had vanished.

~

The trip to Blind Frog was as fun as Cary said it was going to be. They asked around but there hadn’t been a Cary around town for a long time.

“Did–was he–he couldn’t have,” Eddie said, his eyes wide, “could he?”

“You’re asking me if there is a thing as ghosts?” Steve asked his hands on his hips. “Because if you are, we are going home this instant. If you can’t handle a friendly one, you aren’t going to fair well in Europe.”

Robin and Chrissy shared a glance and Robin crossed her arms. “And just how would you know?”

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and looked down, pained. He looked upwards and nodded to himself as he fought to control his temper. Because even Eddie was looking confused.

“Did you people forget that I had wealthy parents that before I came out as bi,” he said tersely, “took me with them on vacations. Vacations to Europe, Cancun, The Bahamas, Australia?”

Chrissy raised her hand. “Like I didn’t know that. But probably should have guessed,” she explained as Eddie and Robin looked a tad chagrin and refused to look Steve in the eye.

“She’s excused.” He turned to his best friend and his boyfriend. “So what about you too?”

“Sorry, Stevie,” Eddie murmured. “I guess I did forget that you’ve done this sort of thing before.”

“Yeah,” Robin said softly. “I was just thinking about travel in terms of before stardom and after. And before was when you met me and not, you know the previous eighteen years before that.”

“So are we okay with ghosties?” Steve asked, tilting his head forward and to the side.

All three of them nodded.

“Good,” he replied rubbing his hands together, “I hear the McCune Mansion in Salt Lake is extra haunted.”

~

They pulled up to the mansion and out front was a Mystery Machine, a 1967 Chevy Impala, and an Echo 1 in the parking lot.

Steve licked his lips slowly. “Uh, hey guys? How do we feel about skipping this one and moving on to the next one?”

“Baby,” Eddie cooed, “I’d be very grateful to you if you did just that.”

“We can still say we’ve been here,” Chrissy hedged from the back seat. “We just don’t have to go in.”

Robin sat in silence for a moment. “Whatever is happening inside that house is way above our level to handle. All in favor of moving to the next creepy thing say ‘aye’?”

Everyone said “Aye!” and Steve pulled slowly out of the parking lot.

They pulled into a pizza place just off the nearby university campus called The Pie for some really good pizza and great atmosphere. Eddie fell immediately in love with all weird decor and graffiti everywhere.

They were also amazed that everyone was in costumes of some sort.

“What’s going on?” Robin asked their waitress when she brought them the largest pizza they had ever seen in their lives.

“Local gaming convention this weekend,” she said. “I don’t know how they can stand the heat with all those layers. I would have passed out before noon.”

Eddie began to vibrate. “Guys, guys... can we go? Pleeaassse!”

Steve and Chrissy shared a glance. Eddie was sure to get recognized if they did.

“Fuck, yeah. Let’s go,” Robin said, slamming her hand on the table.

Steve jumped and looked her in the eye. She tilted her head to the side and smirked. He blinked, furrowing his brow. She wagged her eyebrows. He cocked his head to the side and tapped his lips thoughtfully. She leaned forward expectantly. He threw his arms up in the air in resignation.

“Yes!” Robin crowed. “I win!”

Chrissy blinked in confusion. “Was there a conversation in that? Because I must of have missed something if there was.”

“Soulmate telepathy,” Eddie explained solemnly. “It’s rare to see that pronounced though. Usually it’s more subtle.”

With a sigh Chrissy pulled out her phone and after a bit of searching and some phone tag was able to get ahold of convention management. “Yes, I’m a completely serious. I’m just giving you a head’s up because if a single fan tags his location you might get more fans at your convention than the fire marshals will allow.”

Eddie grimaced. “Oops. I forgot I was that level of famous.”

“So?” Robin huffed. “You should still be able to go out and have fun if you want to. Just pull your hair up in a ponytail and wear a hat and sunglasses. You can tell people you’re Bucky Barnes.”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “If he’s Bucky, who does that make me? I’m not blond enough for Steve Rogers, though Chrissy could absolutely pull on ‘End Game’ Natasha.”

Chrissy bowed to the best of her ability sitting down. “Why thank you!”

“Robbie could be Carol Danvers!” Eddie crowed. “It’d be awesome!”

They started throwing out ideas like Tony Stark or Clint Barton, but none of them really fit Steve.

Then Robin hit on the perfect idea. “Hey, Steve, did you bring your glasses with you?”

“Yeah,” Steve said slowly. “I can’t wear my contacts when I get my migraines, why?”

Robin just grinned.

~

Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

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