#it brings we great pleasure to start show tags at ao3

[zarahjoyce]

fic: mad dog (Love Your Enemy)

Summary:

Yes, yes, she's fine. Even now as she's standing in front of the man she didn't think she would see after all this time. Even now, with his eyes drooping as he read the file she'd personally prepared - per his order. "Ugh," he says, yawning and rubbing his eyes for good measure. "It's so boring I almost fell asleep. Is this the best you can do, Yoon Ji-Won?" Well, fuck you too, she thinks unkindly, balling her hands into fists. - or Several days in the boring, uneventful life of Yoon Ji-Won... until Seok Ji-Won returned.

Notes: NOTHING GETS MY JUICES FLOWING THAN A NEW ENEMIES-TO-LOVERS STORY TO OBSESS OVER AHHH

anyway I wrote this because idk why not

ao3 link!

[lopsided-whiskey-grin]

Hi! For a soapghost prompt, I’ve been really craving Bamf!soap, ESPECIALLY in his red mask, and ghost being impressed/down bad for it!

I have a guilty pleasure for “one gets kidnapped and the other goes feral to save them” and I can’t be sorry

Thank you and have a great day/night!!

Thank you for this prompt and thank you for being so patient me while I took forever to write it! I got on a roll with it and it ended up being almost 6k words :O Anyways, enjoy! •᎑•

Wreckage

Ghost x Soap

Word count: 5.9k

Summary:  Ghost has been captured while out on a solo mission and Soap goes on a rampage to bring him home. But will Ghost ever truly believe he deserves to be saved?

Tags: kidnapping, torture, fluff and angst, hurt/comfort, blood and injury, guns, whump, bathing/washing, spooning, nightmares, kissing, hand jobs

Also on AO3

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The repetitive squeal of a swinging chain woke Ghost from an endless black void. He stumbled back to consciousness gradually, like a man trying to find his way through a thick fog; It was not pleasant or easy. His eyes fluttered open with great effort and the first thing he realized was that his mask was gone. The second thing he realized was that his arms were bound above his head and had been for a while, judging by the tremendous ache in his shoulders.

Well, fuck.

Looking around, he found he was in some kind of derelict warehouse garage, naked from the waist up. There were a few mercenaries milling about, but none were paying him too much attention. He couldn't remember how long he'd been hanging there. Hours? Days? Did it really fucking matter? He could not recall how he even got here, though it was starting to come back to him slowly. He had been on a solo mission, that much he knew. And then was drugged -- with a dart gun possibly? They brought him here, threatened to torture him, demanded intel on the 141. He never gave up any information. Not like they did much to him, at least not up to that point. His ankle felt swollen, and he vaguely remembered that he rolled it when he fought against them as they strung him up. His jaw was also tight and puffy and his sides were sore when he inhaled, so probably some bruised ribs and a bruised face to go along with the sprained ankle, but nothing broken yet.

He wasn't sure why they hadn't started in on him yet. If he was the one doing the torturing, he would have already had his subject spewing whatever info he wanted. But he supposed since his captors hadn't even pulled out the jumper cables yet, he'd just count himself lucky that he'd been kidnapped by a bunch of pussies.

Ghost shook his head and tried to get his feet under him to get some pressure off his shoulders, which were currently burning in fucking agony. But he was hanging just high enough for only the balls of his bare feet to touch the floor. Shit. He looked up to see that his wrists were bound in paracord which was then knotted to a chain that was attached to a heavy duty hoist on the ceiling of the garage. Not exactly ideal. 

A merc, seeing that Ghost was conscious, stalked across the room. He pulled a hand rolled cigarette from his lips and blew smoke into Ghost's face when he came to a stop before him. 

"Got an extra one of those?" Ghost asked, nodding toward the roll-up. "Could use a drag myself."

The merc looked at him with a nicotine-stained smirk. "You ready to start talking?" he asked back. 

"Aren't we talking right now?" He tried for a charming grin but knew it fell flat. Despite the fact he was wearing only his combat trousers, Ghost had never felt more naked without his mask to hide behind. 

The merc grinned back at him smugly then promptly put the cigarette out on Ghost's chest. Ghost jerked a little in his binds at the unexpected sting of it, but quickly tamped down any other reaction. He'd be damned if he showed these bastards the slightest bit of weakness. And it wasn't like that was the first cigarette burn he'd gotten in his life. No point in making a big deal out of it. 

He cracked a smile and looked at the man, amused. "Is that your version of foreplay, then, mate? Could've at least bought me dinner first."

The merc, clearly not as amused as Ghost was, swiftly punched him in the solar plexus and walked away. The other men in the room laughed. Ghost somehow resisted the intense urge to retch. Fuckin hell. 

Ghost tried to catch his breath and watched warily as the man made his way to a table covered with implements of varying degrees of lethality. He picked up what looked like a cattle prod and turned it over in his hands, inspecting it. Ghost’s pulse ticked a little higher. He’d never been cattle-prodded before. Tased, yes. But he suspected this one was going to hurt just a tad bit more. 

If there was any moment the 141 could decide they wanted to make an appearance, now would be a good fucking time. If Ghost was lucky, maybe it would be Soap coming to get him. And if he was really lucky, maybe it would be Soap in that red skull mask he'd been wearing lately. God, it looked so good on him. Imposing, dangerous, sexy as hell. Seeing him in it made Ghost wish Soap would push him up against the nearest wall to just ravage him within an inch of his life. True, it was a thought he'd had often since he’d met him, but lately that mask took hold of him in a way he couldn’t explain. 

Soap was on his mind constantly these days, in his dreams. Ghost paused, remembering some of the fantasies his subconscious supplied him with during the night, and he smiled to himself. It helped to ease the nervous tension tightening up his chest for the pain that was undoubtedly soon to come. 

The merc sauntered back over to him, menacingly slapping the cattle prod into his palm. He peered up at Ghost and clicked it on. A spark of electricity arced between the electrodes. 

"Something funny to you?" he asked, motioning to Ghost's smile. Ghost had forgotten anyone could see his mouth. 

"Just thinkin’ about your mum and the grand time we had ourselves last night," he panted. His stomach still cramped nauseously from the gut-punch. 

"What did you say about my mother?" He stepped forward, an affronted grimace twisting his lips.

"Oh, c'mon mate, you heard me," he sighed. "Let's get on with it already. Fuck’s sake." This song-and-dance bullshit was getting old fast. 

The man shrugged, then jammed the prod into Ghost's side. White hot pain immediately seared all the way up to Ghost’s neck and his jaw clenched so hard he was distantly afraid he’d crack a tooth. His whole body tightened, taught as a fucking bow string, while his hands helplessly spasmed in their binds. His brain short-circuited for a moment where not even thoughts of Soap could get through to him. There was numbed agony. Only that.

It took a minute to come down enough from the pain to realize he’d been hit with the prod just once. He gasped for air and glanced to his side. There was an angry red scorch mark on his skin. Yeah, just a tad bit fucking worse than a taser, he thought miserably. 

“Now are you ready to talk?” The man held his finger on the prod’s trigger, ready for a second round. 

Sweat dampened his brow and his body hurt all over, but Ghost only turned his head and spit onto the concrete floor next to the man’s feet. “Piss off, cunt,” he rasped. 

The prod made contact again before Ghost even had a chance to draw in another breath. The second time wasn’t any easier. Not that he was expecting it to be, he just thought he'd get a little break between jolts. 

The man thankfully walked away after that one, going back to his table of tools. Ghost hoped he'd never see that cattle prod again in his life, but knew that a new torture device would just take its place — and it would probably be ten times worse that an electric shock.

Ghost’s head sank forward and he swiped his tongue across his trembling bottom lip. For the first time since coming-to he began to feel a real dread that he might not make it out of this one. He only hoped one of his crew was on the lookout for him. And the only one he truly hoped would get him out of this mess was Soap. He trusted his team without question of course, but Soap… Soap was the only man he was willing to explicitly trust with his life. 

Ghost sighed and closed his eyes tightly. Johnny. He focused on remembering the shape of his mouth, the curve of his neck, the broad set of his shoulders. It helped to center him, to bring him back from falling over the sharp precipice of panic. He’d never, in all the time they’d known each other, admitted what he knew deep in his heart to be true: He was in love with John MacTavish. The profound regret of failing to acknowledge that lanced through him suddenly, wounding him in a way he had never experienced before.  

Swallowing hard, Ghost slowly looked up. He made a promise to himself then and there that if he survived this, he’d tell Johnny how he felt. How he really felt. How he looked forward to seeing him every day. How he had been utterly captivated by his laugh, his smile, even his damn hair, from the moment he’d met him. How he wanted to kiss him so badly sometimes it hurt.

If he made it out of this alive, he would not waste one more second keeping it all to himself. He’d spent too long burying it, stuffing it down, trying to ignore it. He didn't know how Soap would respond to him laying himself bare in such a way and had always been afraid to find out -- Ghost, a man who was afraid of nothing. It was laughable. It was embarrassing. But no longer. Even if Soap didn’t reciprocate those feelings, Ghost had to tell him… if he ever saw him again. 

Steeling his nerves, Ghost leveled his gaze at the merc at the table. It looked like the man was picking up a leather sap. Ghost drug in a great steadying breath. He would make it through this; no matter what it took, he’d make it through. Just to see Johnny once more, at least. 

The man appeared before Ghost again and used the sap to lift his chin. Ghost swallowed. “Well?” he asked. “Any more clever quips?

A tic bunched in Ghost’s jaw and he stared at a spot on the dingy wall across from him, trying to detach himself from the situation. He said nothing. 

Without further preamble, the club connected with the left side of his face. Pain bloomed across the bridge of his nose and he tasted the sharp tang of his own blood. Everything went hazy after that and time ground to an abrupt halt. Darkness swallowed Ghost wholly.

.

Consciousness ebbed and flowed like the pull of waves at high tide.  Reality was out of joint. He thought he heard the sound of gunfire but it was far away, unimportant. But then it got louder. And closer. 

Dazedly, Ghost pulled his head up. Warm rivulets of blood ran down his mouth and chin. He thought he saw Soap coming into the room, but his vision was blurry from pain and so were his thoughts. He was so disoriented, his brain couldn’t quite comprehend what he was seeing. Blinking twice, he brought the world back into focus. 

It was Soap. It really was. And he was wearing the red mask. Ghost’s heart leapt up into his throat. At first, he thought it might just be his mind playing tricks on him -- making him think he was seeing what he so desperately wanted to be true. But it was true.

Johnny was here, blazing a trail into the room, mowing down two of the mercs right inside the doorway with his TAQ-56. A third merc, coming at Soap with a knife, was easily taken down when Soap used his own weapon against him. The man was gurgling in a pool of blood on the floor within a matter of seconds, but Soap only stepped over him, already moving onto his next target -- lethal, focused, unstoppable.  

Ghost looked on in awe as Johnny continued taking out the men one right after another. Excitement from watching the combat built inside him with each passing second, elevating his pulse, making him break out in a light sweat, putting a momentary pause on the ache constricting his whole body. But he wanted to be fighting side by side with Johnny, not tied up so fucking helplessly. 

Ghost tried tugging at the binds on his wrists, but all it did was drive a bright wedge of pain through his skull. A weak moan threatened to bubble up from his throat, but he tamped it down best he could. Fuck, he felt so lightheaded.  

Soap continued his rampage, dropping two more men with his AR, while Ghost barely held himself together. He couldn’t deny though that Soap’s calculated fury was a breathtaking sight to behold; it filled him with an almost inexplicable pride. How it took him this long to admit to himself that he was in love with this man was a goddamn mystery when it was so utterly obvious; Soap was literally the other half that made him whole. Ghost shook his head in amazement, but did it gently so as to not rattle his aching head too much.  

The room suddenly fell silent. Ghost realized every enemy was neutralized, spare one, when he was grabbed roughly around the waist from behind.

“Drop your weapon or the next thing you’ll hear is your friend squealing like a stuck pig.” It was his old pal, the cattle-prod prick.

 Bloody hell. 

The razor-sharp tip of some torture implement jabbed at a soft spot on his stomach just above the waistband of his trousers. A scalpel maybe? Whatever it was it sent a chill down Ghost’s spine. He stared at Soap standing across the room from him. 

Soap immediately set his gun on the floor then put his hands up in surrender. He took one step closer but froze when the merc hiding behind Ghost’s back drew blood. Ghost hissed, but somehow held still. He always told Soap to keep his blood in and here he was doing the opposite. Fucking ironic, that. 

The merc shifted behind him and Ghost knew he only had a short sliver of time to finish this. He gave a look to Soap, hoping he could read in his eyes what he was about to do. Soap gave him an almost imperceptible nod, or at least that was what his addled brain hoped he was seeing. 

Risking it all, Ghost gripped onto the chain he was hanging from, and used the last of the strength he had to kick his legs backward and sweep the merc’s feet out from under him. 

The payoff to that gamble was huge. The man lost his balance and, with a surprised shout, fell sideways. The satisfaction of hearing him smack the concrete was almost euphoric.

Before the fucker had barely touched the ground, Soap was charging across the room to him. He hauled the man up from the floor by the collar, then proceeded to pummel the ever-living shit out of him with a ruthlessness Ghost had never seen before, except in himself. Certainly not in Soap, though. A strange feeling tightened his chest. 

He watched as Johnny dropped the merc’s lifeless body to the floor. There was no notion of remorse inside him for the man whose next torture technique might very well have killed him. The relief that washed over him at the realization that this was almost finally over was dizzying.  

“Johnny,” he rasped. The blood on his lips felt tacky when he spoke. 

Soap rushed to him. “Ghost. I’m here.” 

Those words were like the sweetest music to his ears. 

Soap was already pulling his Ka-Bar from its sheath as he came to a stop before him. He reached up to the rope binding Ghost’s wrists but had to stretch onto his tiptoes to be able to start sawing at the paracord tied to the chain on the hoist. Ghost realized that this would be a problem about two seconds too late. 

“Soap, wait -- “

Ghost’s legs were almost completely numb and did not support his weight when the rope was finally cut. He came crashing to his knees in a graceless heap. Johnny tried to catch him on the way down, but they both ended up on the floor. 

“Shit, Ghost. Sorry.” He gently cut the rest of the cord binding Ghost’s wrists together then sheathed his knife. Bringing a hand up slowly, he cupped Ghost’s jaw, rubbing away some of the blood smeared there from his broken nose. “I thought I lost you,” he said unevenly. 

“I’m still here,” Ghost replied with a weak smile. He rubbed his wrists to try to get feeling back into his arms. Fuck, he hurt all over. 

Soap sat back on his haunches, helping Ghost to get his legs out from under him. “Where’s your clothes? Your mask?” he asked. 

“I don’t know. They drugged me.”

Soap’s blue eyes drilled into him from the black sockets of his skull mask. He looked down to see the wounds and bruises dotting Ghost’s chest and torso and Ghost followed his gaze. The cut from the scalpel wasn't too bad, barely a nick. But then Soap's fingers brushed over the electrical burns on his side and Ghost sucked in a sharp breath. The reaction was partially from the pain of course, but it was also the first time Soap had ever touched his bare skin in such a way. A tremble quivered through him. 

 “They’ll pay for what they did to you,” Johnny swore. The unchecked rage emanating off of him was nearly palpable. “I'll kill every last one of them.”

Ghost curved forward just enough to bring his face to Johnny’s. He couldn't quite say what possessed him to do it. The promise he’d made to himself while he was hanging from the ceiling contemplating his own mortality was certainly part of it, but they didn’t exactly have all the time in the world at the moment to be waxing poetic. He was acting purely on instinct and pain-fueled adrenaline. 

Without another moment’s hesitation, Ghost slotted his mouth against Soap’s mask-covered lips. Soap froze against him and they stayed unmoving, mouth pressed to mouth, until Ghost pulled back. A red smudge of his blood was left behind on the cloth. It wasn’t quite how he imagined their first kiss going, but he’d never regret it. 

“We can come back later and finish the job, Johnny," he said. "I don’t know how many men they had here, but I’m sure they’ll be sending reinforcements any minute.”

Soap watched him for a moment, fixed to his spot. Then he blinked, seemingly coming back to himself. 

“Is the rest of the team outside?” Ghost asked, settling his hand on Soap’s knee.

“It's just me,” he replied after clearing his throat. His voice was husky. “Price was taking too long. I came to get you on my own.” 

Now it was Ghost's turn to be stunned. "Alone?"

"Aye. I was ready to burn this whole fuckin place down by myself to get you back, Ghost."

The sincerity of it underlined by the dark promise of Johnny’s vengeance twisted Ghost's insides up in a way that surprised him. 

Ghost swallowed. "Johnny, I —," 

But Soap was already standing and didn’t hear him. "I've got transport outside. Let's get you out of here." He picked up his gun from the floor then held his hand out to help Ghost up. "Can you walk?"

"Yeah, I reckon so." Ghost grimaced as Soap pulled him to his feet. Goddamn but he was sore. He tried a few steps with Soap’s help. He could walk, but it was little more than a slow hobble. It wouldn’t have been too much of a problem, if there wasn’t the slight issue of their damn lives being on the line currently. 

And as if on fucking cue, the heavy sound of booted footfalls echoed into the room from somewhere in the building. Before Ghost even knew what was happening, he was being heaved over Soap’s shoulders in a fireman’s carry.  It was not the least bit comfortable as his bruised ribs were squeezed roughly against Soap’s broad back, but Ghost didn’t exactly have a say in the matter. And he wasn’t about to complain about it -- he knew he was not fast enough with the state he was in to make it out of this building without getting either of them killed. 

Soap took off at a quick clip with his left arm holding one of Ghost’s legs to him tightly and his right hand holding his rifle. Ghost was impressed as hell that Soap was able to lift him so easily and doubly so that he was able to almost run with him slung across his shoulders. Where had he been hiding all that quiet strength on that lithe body?

They entered a long, wide hallway with the sound of footsteps and men yelling drawing ever closer. "We've got company," Soap shouted. 

Ghost looked up over Johnny's shoulder in time to see a small group of mercenaries advancing toward them near the exit. But noise behind them drew Ghost's attention too and he saw they were being flanked from the back as well from men that seemingly spawned out of nowhere. What the fuck. 

Without thinking, Ghost reached down and grabbed Soap's side arm from the holster on his hip. He began firing down the corridor at the enemy to the back while Soap cleared a way going forward. They worked together as the team they always had been, fluid, harmonious, succinct. And it was fucking beautiful. 

Ghost’s ears were ringing and the acrid scent of spent gunpowder burned his nose, but there were no enemies left standing by the time they made it to the exit door at the end of the hall. Soap opened the door carefully and, after they both found the parking lot to be empty, carried Ghost to his waiting vehicle. 

It was dark outside and Ghost found he was disoriented to what day it even was. He had no idea how long he’d been held here and that thought alone concerned him quite deeply. 

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” he said tiredly after Soap set him on his feet. Soap nodded in agreement and helped Ghost into the truck. 

After checking in with Price, debriefing him, and getting his ass chewed for not following orders, Soap started them on the road. Price instructed him and Ghost to lay low in one of their safe houses in the wooded wilderness on the outskirts of town for a couple days. Soap voiced his understanding.  

It was a quiet trip, with Ghost processing what he had just been through and Soap giving him the space to do it. He might have drifted off to sleep for some of the ride. He was awake though when Soap pulled up to an isolated cabin. 

There was a hushed silence outside and when Ghost got out of the truck and looked up he saw about a billion stars glittering in the sky above. He took a deep breath of cold mountain air and followed Soap into the house. 

Ghost realized he was starving when they walked inside and so the first thing Soap did, after pulling off all his weapons, tactical gear, and skull mask, was whip up a sandwich while Ghost sat at the kitchen table. Soap said soup would have been better, but deli meat, bread, and cheese were the only ingredients to be found in the fridge. It was a struggle for Ghost to take his time chewing when he was so damn hungry, but the pain in his jaw forced him to go slow. He managed to swallow down about half of it. Soap dutifully wrapped up the other half with a worried smile and put it back in the fridge for Ghost to have tomorrow, he said. Ghost nodded tiredly. 

The second thing Soap did was run Ghost a bath. Ghost would have preferred a shower, but there was none to be found in the small cabin. Not that he could have stood long enough to get himself washed properly with the state he was in, anyways. What he really wanted was to just flop down on the bed and pass the fuck out, but his desire to be clean of the hell of that garage was far greater than his need for sleep currently. 

After the bath was ready, Soap let Ghost have his privacy, but said he was right outside if he needed anything. Just knowing that comforted Ghost down to his very bones. He stood in the bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror. He didn’t even recognize the man looking back at him. Dark purple bruises were smudged under his eyes, his nose was a different shape than the last time he’d seen it, and dried blood was caked all over the bottom half of his face. He was a fucking disaster. But he was alive. He was fucking alive, and he had Johnny to thank for that. 

Sighing, Ghost looked away from his reflection. He went to undo the button on his cargos but realized his hands were shaking. Glancing down, he forced himself to somehow fumble them open. He stepped out of the bloodstained clothes then gingerly got into the bathtub.

The water was the perfect temperature and he let his eyes slip closed on a long exhale. He brought his knees up and curled forward, about to wrap his arms around, ready for a good soak. But his shoulders locked up and he couldn't bring his arms any higher than his chest. He winced, his hands slumping down under the water at his sides. He wouldn't even be able to wash himself. Goddammit. 

"Uh, Johnny?" he called. 

The door opened just a crack. "You done, already?" Soap asked. 

Ghost swallowed down his pride. "I - I need some help, it seems." 

There was a quiet pause. Then Johnny said, "Of course, Ghost. Coming in, okay?"

Ghost nodded, unsure if he should cover up, but then decided he was too exhausted to really care. He was sure he looked quite pathetic sitting so helplessly in the tub, but he didn’t have any other options available to him.

Soap didn't seem bothered by it at all, which made Ghost feel a little less embarrassed. He watched as Johnny grabbed a washcloth and a cup from the cabinet then knelt down on the floor. 

"Let's get you cleaned up." 

Ghost sat silently as Johnny wet the cloth then gently washed the sweat and blood from his chest, arms, and neck. He leaned back and looked up at the ceiling so Johnny could wash his hair. It was all more intimate than Ghost could handle. Tears welled in his eyes and he began trembling. 

"Hey, Ghost. Shh, it's okay," Soap said softly. 

Ghost shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. It was a little hard to catch his breath. "I didn't think I'd make it out of there, Johnny. I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

Soap brushed Ghost's wet hair up off his forehead then turned his head toward him with a tender touch to his chin. Ghost opened his eyes and looked at him. The man he loved. The only person he was willing to trust with all the broken and mangled pieces of his heart. 

Soap brought the cloth up to wipe away Ghost's tears. He cleaned the blood from his mouth and jaw so very carefully. And then his gaze met Ghost's and held for a moment. Ghost felt his heart skip a beat. 

Slowly, Johnny lowered the bloodstained cloth to his lap. "Ghost — Simon, I'm here. We’re here. You're safe now." 

Nodding, Ghost cast his eyes down and away. He wished he had his mask. He felt too exposed, too vulnerable. But he knew he shouldn't, not with Soap. Soap saw him for who he was and accepted him anyway. Hell, he'd risked his own fucking life to bring him home. 

Ghost didn't know if he deserved any of that. 

“Why did you save me?” he murmured.

He could see Johnny looking at him out of the corner of his eye, but he kept his gaze locked on his bruised knees. 

“Because, mo chridhe, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t do everything I could to make sure you were okay. I- I don’t know who I’d be if I lost you.”

Ghost swallowed against a hard lump that formed in his throat, feeling just a small portion of the wall he’d built up around himself start to come down. 

“You really think there’s anything inside me that’s worth saving, Johnny?” he asked grimly. His lip quivered and he pressed his mouth into a tight line. He turned to look at him then. 

The raw emotion he saw splashed across Soap’s face twisted something up inside him. Johnny had always worn his heart on his sleeve. It was something Ghost used to roll his eyes at, thinking that it was far better to keep those feelings hidden so no one could use them against you one day. But he realized now how wrong he’d been. Everything Johnny experienced, all the excitement and pain and wonder, was there, unabashedly clear for everyone to see. As was the love shining so brightly in his eyes as he looked at Ghost in that moment. 

“Aye, Simon. All of you.” And with that, Soap leaned forward over the edge of the tub and settled the softest, most tender kiss against Ghost’s lips. 

Soap pulled back slowly and they smiled at each other. Ghost’s heart felt near to bursting. 

The bath water was starting to cool by then and so he helped Ghost up and out. Ghost was able to dry the lower half of himself, grumbling something about not being completely useless. Then Soap had him sit on the closed lid of the toilet with the towel wrapped around his waist while Soap dressed his wounds and wrapped his ankle. He offered to set Ghost’s nose, but Ghost declined. He’d get it looked at later. He knew Soap had undoubtedly set his fair share of noses in the past, but Ghost just really didn’t want it to start bleeding again. He wanted to lay his arse down in bed and not worry about getting up for at least twelve hours, maybe more. 

And so, after hobbling to the bedroom and getting into some soft pajama bottoms he found in the dresser, Ghost did just that. He let out an obscene moan when he finally got under the covers and was not the least bit ashamed by it. Soap chuckled from the doorway and clicked off the light. He was about to turn to go when Ghost mustered up the courage to call his name. 

“Johnny?”

“Mmhm?” he turned back. He was just a Soap-shaped silhouette at the threshold, lit from behind by the light in the kitchen. 

“Stay with me awhile?” 

Soap didn’t hesitate. He crossed the room with long strides before Ghost had even finished asking.  

They lay on the bed together next to each other but not touching until Soap rolled toward him and gathered Ghost up into his arms with Ghost’s back nestled against his chest. He held him just loosely enough to not jostle Ghost’s injuries too much. And for the first time in so fucking long, Ghost finally felt at peace. 

They were quiet for a long moment with just the sound of their breathing filling the dark room. Ghost basked in the silence, hoping for sleep to claim him. But as utterly exhausted as he was, he could not fall asleep. Huffing out a sigh, he shifted against Soap restlessly. 

Soap held him a little closer and the next thing Ghost knew, he was feeling the warm press of Johnny’s lips on the back of his shoulder. “I know a tried-and-true method to help you get to sleep,” he muttered against Ghost’s skin. “If you want.”

Ghost’s heart knocked heavily inside his ribcage. “I do want,” he blurted eagerly before he even realized what he’d said. “I mean, sure, why not.”     

There was a soft chuckle behind him, and then Soap’s hand was sliding over his chest and down, down, down. Ghost’s heart thudded even faster and warmth spread through every nerve ending. Soap’s hand slipped under the waistband of his pants then cupped Ghost’s half-hard cock with a gentle yet firm touch. 

Ghost sucked in a sharp breath that sent an ache through his battered ribs, but he hardly processed the pain. He was too focused on Johnny’s hand. Fuck. 

Johnny worked Ghost to full hardness quickly. Not that it would have taken much time under any other circumstances anyway, not with how deeply he had been longing and fantasizing about this very thing since he’d met Johnny. 

“Bloody hell, Johnny,” he panted as Soap’s lips found his shoulder again and his tongue swirled over an old scar. 

 A hot coil of arousal throbbed low in his belly when Soap’s hand worked faster over his cock, pumping up and down the shaft with a rhythm perfect enough to drive Ghost out of his mind. Squeezing his eyes shut, Ghost rocked his hips forward, chasing more of the bliss being offered to him, sliding into the tight channel of Soap’s fist over and over.  

“Johnny, please,” he whimpered. A plea to slow down or speed up, he wasn’t sure. He wanted the feeling to never end but was at the same time desperately craving release. 

“I’m here, Simon. I’m right here.” Soap nuzzled his face against the back of Ghost’s neck. His breath stirred the short hairs at the nape there, sending a full-body shiver racing right through him. Ghost groaned.

Soap chose that moment to squeeze a little harder and pump his hand a little faster. “That’s it, mo chridhe,” he coaxed. “I can tell you’re almost there.” 

Soap stripped Ghost’s cock with two more quick pumps of his hand. And with that, Ghost was positively done for. He moaned Johnny’s name weakly as he came and snapped his hips forward one more time, thrusting hard into Johnny’s tight fist.

Soap soothed him through it with soft kisses and even softer words, helping to ease Ghost down from the high of his orgasm. Then he slid out of bed to clean up the little puddle of Ghost’s release and gently moved him over so he didn’t have to sleep on the wet spot. Ghost had never been taken care of in such a way and he didn’t exactly know how to respond, except to thank Soap with a deep kiss when he settled back in the bed with him. Soap accepted it eagerly. 

“Now, try to get some rest, okay? I’ll be right here,” Soap said, tucking Ghost against his chest once again. They fit together perfectly, as if they were made for one another.  The promise in Johnny's words helped calm Ghost so well, he drifted off to sleep almost immediately. Johnny was there. And when Ghost woke in the early pre-dawn hours from nightmares that felt too fucking real, Johnny was still there, right at his side. He would always be there. He had always been there. It was more than Ghost believed he deserved, but he was learning. God, help him, he was learning to accept that it was true.

[fang-and-feather]

Ikemen Vampire - Jean x Napoleon x Reader

Visions of Temptation Challenge hosted by @xxsycamore

Day 25 Prompt: Edging

Also written for August's Polyam Shipping Day, Prompt: Explore by @polyamships

This started, long ago, as a draft of a Napoleon/Reader pegging fic. Them I realized the polyamory event would happen right before Napoleon's birthday and was a bit lazy to start a new fic so it turned into this threesome as a pre-birthday event. Never finished it in time, but I finally managed to make something out of this old WIP, late for both events. It could fit a few kinktober prompts but in the end I chose this one.

Tags: Pegging, Light Dom/sub play, Oral Sex, Edging

Kinktober Masterlist / IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist / AO3 Link

To trust someone enough to feel safe enough to explore new things, parts of you that had to be hidden, or things you just never got the chance to explore, or even things you were afraid of, was something special. But taking the first step with someone new and trusting these things you were afraid of for the first time, even with people you otherwise trusted, could be difficult.

And it was by trust that Napoleon found himself in this predicament, his body under yours as he ate you out.

He always loved the taste of you. The way your body quivered as he licked you. The way you cried his name in response to the pleasure he gave you.

But you being, not only on top but also in complete control, not only of yours but of his pleasure too, was a great deal for him. Napoleon wasn’t used to giving up control, but he trusted you enough to put himself completely at your mercy.

And this was his reward, before you moved into the primary plans for the night. You didn’t try to dictate how you would like to be pleased, letting him use his mouth and tongue as he wished.

That didn’t mean you hadn’t started to take control of other things. Or that you were being nice to him, the offered reward becoming more of a challenge.

Your body was positioned facing his, so you could reach out and stroke his cock, your movements slow, with barely any pressure, just enough to cause his pleasure to build up but not to bring him to a release, and then you would stop, taking your time to get more lube, before resuming your task.

At first, he thought you were just stalling until your own release, but you had come twice now, and not only did you seem to have surprisingly more stamina than usual, but you still kept him on edge.

It was driving him insane. How long would he be able to hold back from flipping you over and fucking you senseless, all other plans for the night be damned?

At the limit of his control, Napoleon held your hips, pulling you closer, only to stop when he received a hard pinch to one of his nipples in response.

“Who said you could touch me?” You reproached in a playful, sultry tone. “You’re so impatient. Do I need to tie you?”

He chuckled. This was frustrating, but there was something both hot and amusing about you being this bold.

It also made him a little flustered by being commanded in such a way. It wouldn’t be easy to get used to, but Napoleon couldn’t say he hated it.

“You’re enjoying tormenting me, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.” You answered, playfully.

“But you’re also stalling. Waiting for Jean, aren’t you?”

He tried to hold back from laughing when your body stiffened. He was sure you were blushing.

“Should we wait for him?” You asked, hesitantly.

“He’ll show up if he’s ready.” Napoleon reassured. “And if he wants, he can join whatever we’re in the middle of. Unless you want to wait.”

“You’re the one who invited him.” You turned around, sitting on his chest instead. “But if it’s up to me, then no. It’s not like our plans depend entirely on him. Or do you want to wait?” You adjusted your body, brushing his in a way that made him moan, and kissed him before he could answer. “What about a couple more minutes? You can finish what you started, and you help me with my gear while we wait.”

Finishing what he started was something he could hold back a little longer for. If you allowed, he could spend the whole night at that.

Maybe tomorrow he would, as a birthday treat.

“You’re so greedy tonight. Is dominating me that exciting for you? Or is it the idea of fucking me?”

“I’m not that greedy!” You protested, a little flustered.

Napoleon laughed, flipping you down as he kissed you, before resuming his place between your legs.

“Well, I don’t mind you being greedy with me, ma Reine.” He kissed the inside of your thigh. “I am at your orders tonight.”

Seeing that you didn’t complain as he held you down this time, Napoleon eagerly resumed his task.

He licked and sucked with greed, as if he was starving despite it not being your first round. The way you moaned, already greatly stimulated from earlier, the way you tangled one hand into his hair, trying to pull him closer, body grinding against him, only fuelled his passion, and he sucked harder. It wasn’t long before you came for the third time, with a loud cry of his name, and soon he was reluctantly pulled away.

Napoleon knelt up, watching you try to catch your breath. You were panting, with your eyes closed, your entire body flushed. He especially loved seeing you that vulnerable and tempting. A shame he couldn’t have you right away.

He reached for the toy left on the nightstand, wondering, not for the first time, where it had come from. But again, he didn’t question you, silently helping you adjust the straps that held it in place.

A shiver of both excitement and apprehension ran through him. There was something so strange but sexy about the way you looked wearing that, and something always ached within him in response every time he saw that while you two had been preparing for this, but especially now, with the way you teased him earlier.

Napoleon looked up, eyes meeting yours. He smiled and, without breaking eye contact, leaned down, holding your thighs again, then licking the fake cock from base to head, feeling you shiver as you watched him, entranced.

You couldn’t feel it, so Napoleon didn’t understand why you reacted so strongly, but he liked to watch. He took the tip into his mouth, noisily sucking on it, watching the way you blushed, before you smirked at him.

“You make a better performance every time. I will love to watch how you deal with a real one. But why don’t we leave the show for another time?”

You nudged him back, and Napoleon followed your lead, allowing you to flip your roles again. But before you could do anything, you heard the door being unlocked and practically leaped away, scrambling for the sheets. Napoleon laughed and pulled you back to him. It could be only one person at this time, and he couldn’t believe you had forgotten.

“It’s not that funny.” You pouted, recovering from the scare. But when he couldn’t stop laughing, you leaned back over him, pinning him to the bed. “Do you want me to punish you?”

“Sorry.” Napoleon tried to stop again. Not because he was afraid of your threat. He knew you didn’t have the drive to be too rough, especially on your first time playing like that, and especially not in front of Jean. Besides, he considered he might actually enjoy that. “But you’ve been stalling to wait for Jean, but got distracted enough to forget he was coming.” He said, still chuckling.

“Well, you’re lucky he’s here. Or I would really make you regret this.”

Napoleon would have challenged you to go ahead with it. Since he was already putting himself in this position, might as well go all out and see how the two of you would like it in the end, right? But Jean had made his way to the bed during the exchange, standing there, observing the two of you, and Napoleon noticed the hesitation in his eyes, so he waited for a reaction.

Jean sat on the edge of the bed, leaning forward to kiss you.

“There is no need to hold back because of me.” Then his attention turned to Napoleon and he reached out, lightly touching his cheek at first, but then the hesitation was replaced with something hot and alluring and his hand slid down, gripping his chin firmly. “Or should I punish him for you?”

From someone who was so torn about agreeing to do this, despite his own curiosity, this change in tune was unexpected. And even if Jean hadn’t been so hesitant about this, it was more than Napoleon would have expected of him, anyway.

Both of you had been worried before, but there was no reason to make sure Jean was certain of his decision to join you. Not after such an answer.

“Well, as long as he behaves, I think we can leave him off the hook for now. Not that I think he would mind that much.”

Jean blushed, hesitating a little again.

“I was only joking, mon amour..” He said, before smiling and kissing you. “But I will keep that in mind.”

Then Jean turned back to Napoleon. For a moment, they stared at each other in silence, Jean hesitating a little again before he closed the gap between them. Their first kiss was barely a brush of lips before Jean pulled away, confidence seemingly returning to him as his hand moved to the back of Napoleon’s head, pulling him into another kiss, deeper this time, tongue exploring his mouth.

“You taste like her.” He muttered.

“What can I say? I love how she tastes.” Napoleon winked at you.

Jean’s attention also returned to you, and you kissed him, pulling him so he would turn around to properly face you.

Napoleon watched as Jean touched you all over, teasing your sensitive spots and you did the same to him, your moans muffled into each other’s mouth. Feeling left out, he moved behind Jean, starting to remove his clothes.

His shirt was gone in an instant, the two of you barely paying the action any attention, except to make sure not to get in the way.

When he went to undo his belt and pants, Jean tensed a little, causing Napoleon to stop.

“Don’t hesitate telling any of us if you ever need to stop.” He reassured, waiting for Jean to nod before he continued his task, placing gentle kisses along Jean’s neck and shoulders.

When all the clothes were out of the way, you nudged Jean to turn around, back to Napoleon instead, who straddled Jean’s waist, kissing him.

Napoleon only heard you leave the bed and felt you climb back behind him, at first kissing his back, hands reaching around to explore his chest, pinching a nipple, then you pulled him from Jean’s lap and to a kneeling position.

Although he’d been naked from the start, for the first time in the night Napoleon felt a little exposed when Jean looked him over. Maybe because he realized that was exactly your intention. Your hands left him, only for one to return, a wet, slightly cold finger massaging his hole and lubing him up, before being slowly eased inside.

It wasn’t the first time you tried that part, but it always felt both pleasurable and a little strange. The most strange part was probably the lube.

Your other hand wrapped around his cock, barely creating pressure when you moved, just like you had in the beginning. Jean watched your movements with interest, looking up when you teased the tip of Napoleon’s cock and he let out a soft moan.

“Do you want to try?” You asked Jean. He nodded, and your small hand was replaced by his bigger one.

Napoleon welcomed the extra pressure, although Jean’s movements were hesitant and even clumsy, until he found a comfortable rhythm. Jean barely tensed when Napoleon returned the gesture tentatively, trying to match that same rhythm.

Although Napoleon found it hard to concentrate. Besides Jean’s hand on his cock and the heated kisses they shared, you now had two fingers inside him, moving a little too slow for his liking, your other hand roaming his body, from teasing his balls to pinching his nipples, your mouth biting and kissing at his neck. His mind was overloaded with all these sensations, the sweet whispers of love and praise you whispered in his ear and the delicious moans he drew from Jean. He was ready to melt under all of it.

But everything ceased abruptly, and Napoleon blushed at the disappointed whimper that escaped him. His hand was gently taken away from Jean, who had a similar reaction at the loss.

“Just switching positions. Be patient.” You said soothingly.

You were totally teasing him, and you knew exactly what you would get from it. In fact, that might be exactly why you wanted to arrange this on the night before his birthday.

With a few pushes, pulls and nudges, you guided him to the position you wanted and Napoleon found himself on his hands and knees.

Napoleon looked up at Jean, silently asking for permission, and his answer was a hand at the back of his head, gently nudging him.

He fit as much as he could of the cock before him into his mouth. Napoleon wasn’t used to doing something like this, but he’d had some pratice with you, although Jean was bigger than your toy.

He stater moving his head, at first slowly, adjusting to the size, exploring the feel of it with his tongue and savoring the taste. And he liked that taste more than he expected.

Napoleon was barely getting used to the position when he felt the tip of your toy begin to push into him.

“Ready?” You asked.

He only made a noise of approval, not even interrupting his task, but switched from moving to just sucking.

You eased inside slowly. Napoleon loved the way it stretched him, and the way he found himself stuffed full on both ends. 

With just a few thrusts from you, Napoleon came in an explosive orgasm that almost made him choke on Jean, who pulled back to let him breathe, and every new thrust from you made him see more stars. He never expected it to feel this good.

Would it feel better with a real cock? Maybe, but there was something quite hot about having you being the one doing this to him. The way your roles were reversed as you fucked him, gently at first, but when his orgasm died down and he started to thrust back, you started to actually pound into him.

Jean, who had so much difficulty accepting his own curiosity to be there, had switched from hesitating at a simple kiss to face fucking Napoleon as if they had done it many times before.

You stopped for a moment before adjusting your rhythm to match Jean’s. Or trying to, but stopped again because Jean was losing his own rhythm as he got near his limit, his moans growing louder and more frequent.

Napoleon nearly choked again twice as Jean’s cock hit the back of his throat, making him tighten around your toy, increasing his own pleasure.

With a couple more thrusts, Jean finally came, the taste of his cum better than Napoleon expected.

He looked up, eyes meeting Jean’s, and made a point of audibly gulping it down, enjoying the way Jean blushed, confidence seemingly lost again.

“Are you that shy about me? Because I love how you taste, too. I wouldn’t mind another performance some other time.”

“You’re just being so…” Jean looked at you, then away, scooting a little back.

“So what?” Napoleon grinned. In any other position, he would have chased Jean.

“You’re acting a little too slutty, that’s what.” You answered, pulling out of him and pushing him down so his upper body was resting against the bed, ass in the air, but despite your rough movements, he could notice a hint of shyness in your voice as well.

Napoleon was a bit embarrassed, too. He wouldn’t have gone that far at another time. It didn’t feel natural for him to do so. But they were in the moment of experimenting things and he felt a boost of confidence to try these things now.

“I thought tonight we were supposed to go all out. You weren’t holding back until now, Nunuche.”

“That’s who you are when you go all out?” You asked, playfully.

No. Napoleon doubted he had reached his limit, because he doubted you had reached yours. Then there was also Jean, who was just starting. He was just a reflection of his partners, and he was only reflecting your own energy tonight.

“Only when you keep teasing me.”

You pushed back into him in one swift motion. The angle of the new position feeling even better, making him moan your name.

“Then I will stop teasing.”

You didn’t waste time fucking him as hard as you could. There was a shift in the bed, and Jean started pumping him.

Between the two of you, he didn’t last long. You slowed down, but didn’t stop until his orgasm subsided, only pulling out when he started to come down from his high, tired body collapsing on the bed.

Napoleon took a deep breath, trying to steady his heart, and rolled to lie on his back and be able to look at you.

“You look so hot like this.” You were still eying him as you reached for a cleaning cloth you had left on the nightstand earlier.

Napoleon followed your gaze as it shifted over to Jean, who was sitting there, staring at his hand, stained in Napoleon’s cum. To both of your surprises and Napoleon’s both embarrassment and excitement, he licked it, although a little hesitant.

He closed his eyes, expression unreadable for a moment, before opening them again and noticing you were staring at him, growing embarrassed at the realization.

“I actually like how you taste, too.” He said, gazing at Napoleon without any hesitation, despite his red cheeks.

Napoleon’s cheeks grew even hotter, and a shiver ran down his spine. He couldn’t resist how both you and Jean were. A mix of shyness, innocence and sexiness, overwhelmingly tempting.

Jean looked away again. Now embarrassed, he reached for the cloth in your hand to finish cleaning himself.

Napoleon sat up just as you retrieved the cloth, starting to clean him now.

“Hey, Nunuche, I can do that myself.”

“No.” You also shook your head, gently pushing him to lie down again. “Let me take care of you tonight.” You leaned forward, kissing him, before resuming your task.

Napoleon watched you for a moment before speaking again.

“You did great tonight. Both of you. I don’t mind if you want to do this again.”

You blushed, finishing the cleaning in silence and setting the cloth and your toy aside.

“I wouldn’t mind so, either.” Jean spoke first.

You looked at one, then the other, and gave them a quick nod.

“I’m glad it all worked out. Thank you for joining us, Jean.” You kissed him. “And you, for agreeing to it.” You kissed Napoleon, who wrapped an arm around your waist, keeping you there with him.

“You also agreed to my own ideas. All of us had things we wanted to try tonight. It was a fair exchange. Next time you have something in mind, don’t hesitate to tell me. I have little I wouldn’t try with you. Now,” he flipped over, laying over you with a grin, “it’s past midnight. Do you know what that means?”

By the way you flushed, you did, but you also looked worried, making him laugh.

“Don’t worry. I will be nice to you. If you behave.” His birthday was just starting, and he would take his time paying you back. “Would you mind joining us, Jean? There is no one else I’d rather share my birthday gift with.”

I probably will write the next scene at some point...

Tag List: @tele86

If you want to be tagged on future writings, you can reply to this post or send me a message/ask

Kinktober Masterlist / IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist

[steddieunderdogfics]

Today is all about @spicysix! In today's Mod Spotlight, we're highlighting Lui and all they bring to this space!!

Lui handles our Challenge Monday and Theme Weekend Days! They queue up and handle any initial recs for those days, as well as keeping track of how many recs we need for each day!

lui (she/they) has discovered fandom life over 13 years ago and went through multiple fandoms since then. currently focusing on Stranger Things, they're an occasional writer and avid reader, and a multishipper at heart - but Steddie is her favorite ship to read in the ST fandom. she took a role as a mod on Steddie Underdog Fics trying to embrace a side of fandom that they haven't before, and it's been a great to be a part of it!

Having Lui on the team has been a blessing! Not only is she easy to work with and so kind, she's really helped level up this space in so many ways. I'm so glad I get to work with her! - ohstars

As a part of our mod spotlight, Lui answered some questions from you all and our team! You can read them below.

Be sure to stay tuned for more recs and future mod spotlights in the future!

What drew you to Steddie?

The opposites-yet-so-similar situation they have going on. Rich guy versus poor guy? Popular versus the loser? Jock versus nerd? But both with hearts of gold… Self sacrificing idiots…. Older brother figures… Smart in some ways but stupid in others… Stuck to high school ideas and dynamics… All of it is tasty.

What is your favorite thing about modding this page?

Getting to know many new fics! My TBR list has grown over what I can manage since I’ve started modding. My companions, Stars and Shane are also amazing and it’s great working with them.

What are your favorite tropes to read?

Probably strangers or friends to lovers. Or like, a one sided rivalry (usually comes from Eddie, who haaaates King Steve while Just-A-Guy-Steve never thought about Eddie before the UD shit lmao). I’m also a sucker for Soulmates AU; and anyone who knows me knows this: my favorite EVER is the timeloop. Ugh. My beloved.

What is your preferred way to read and find fics?

I usually read (or put on my TBR list) whatever shows up on my timeline. From friends, mutuals, or reblogs. When I go straight to the Ao3 ship tag it’s usually to find a specific type of story to read before I sleep,, so I usually set the filters to completed, under 10k words, and no Explicit and go through whatever shows up.

What’s your guilty pleasure trope?

I no longer feel this feeling, but I have once been found feeling guilty for reading monsterfuckeries of omegaverse stuff. Omegaverse is not exactly my cup of tea, but sometimes it can be fun. Anyway, embrace the cringe.

What makes a fic an instant yes for you to read?

Well, timeloops as I’ve said, mutual pining, a good ol’ roadtrip fun. And happy endings. Sorry, but sad endings are a no-go to me.

Anonymous - Is there any older or lesser-known Steddie event from the past few years that you particularly love (if ongoing or recurring) or loved? Did you participate in any?

Hmm no, not that I can think of! Our fandom is very creative so we have amazing events all year round, thankfully! I also haven’t participated in any Steddie specific events because, funny enough, Steddie is the ship that I write the least for (even though it’s the one I read the most! lol)

@sidekick-hero - What makes a fanfic stand out for you?

I think characterization and lots and lots of emotion. With big ships like Steddie, it’s easy for us to fall into different characterizations and sometimes we write them almost as OCs - and that’s not a problem at all, I’m in the team “write whatever you love”, I wouldn’t even call it “mischaracterization”. But when a fic is able to stay within the character’s traits, it tastes better lmao Especially if the side characters are well written – it’s often hard for people who focus on a specific ship to be able to write well the side characters or even care about them and in a fandom like ST specially I think the other relationships are just as important as the main romantic one. I also really love when a fic makes me cry until I have a headache.

@worldswcollide - What advice would you give to someone who is interested in becoming a mod in the future?

Only do it if you know you have the time to dedicate to it. It’s very upsetting to rely on someone only for them to never dedicate themselves fully to a commitment they made on their own choice. You also have to like what you’re doing. If you’re on a project like ours, you have to like this reccing interaction. If you’re on a bigbang project, you have to like being that leader and organizing dates and putting people in contact with each other. And it goes on, but you have to enjoy what you’re doing or you’re gonna resent it and other people involved will know. We always do.

Anonymous - Do you participate in any other fannish activities, like making playlists, gif edits, fanart, podcasts, Pinterest boards, etc?

Not anything that I share, no. I sometimes do moodboards or playlists specifically for my own fics, but besides that, writing and modding, I don’t do any other type of art (bc I lack talent and/or will to learn lol).

@sidekick-hero - What motivates you to mod for steddieunderdogfics?

The idea of shedding a spotlight on fics that can pass by unnoticed, I think. In a big ship like Steddie, that’s easy to happen because we’re two years past Eddie’s first appearance and we still get dozens of fics posted per day!! Being more in touch with the community in this way is fun!

@worldswcollide -  Are there skills you’ve learned as a mod that have helped you in your everyday life?

I think every time you have to work in a group you learn something new, because it’s always new people and new ways to work with them. But I can’t think of anything specific, you know?

Anonymous - Have you had a particular favorite Challenge Monday or weekend theme so far (maybe because of the theme, the recs, or the engagement, or for some other reason)?

Well. Timeloops Theme Weekend for starters of course lmao. I also loved all the engagement and recs we’ve had for fics with podfics challenge, even though I don’t listen to podfics (or podcasts at all lmao) I was happy to see people showing our podfic people the due praise! Fics with colors in the title was also a challenge that we’ve had so many recs we’re still queueing them till this day basically lol. It’s always amazing when we receive a lot of recs and responses.

@sidekick-hero - What do you like best about fandom?

That’s a hard one. But I think the general sense of so many people of different ages and places in the world come together to show love to an art or artist. There’s something so simple and beautiful about that. Dedicating our free time to talk, praise, watch, listen, create fanart for something! It gives me the good chills.

@worldswcollide - If you absolutely HAD to choose—enemies to lovers or friends to lovers? (At least when it comes to Steddie)

Ohhhhmygod why would you do this to me!!!!!!! I’m gonna go with friends to lovers because that is also what I love the most in real life I think – the mutual pining, the obliviousness, the potential angst while they don’t confess, all the little moments they have together, the always presents “you are so dense and blind and stupid and dinguses” from Robin… Love that, yeah.

Anonymous - Has your experience as a fic rec mod changed your perception of fandom (positive or negative, though I do hope positively!), either as a whole or specifically for the Steddie fandom?

Oh, I definitely have a lot more respect for modders now lmao Not that I didn’t before, but it’s always different when you see it/do it yourself. It takes a lot of dedication and organization.

@sidekick-hero - What makes modding fun to you?

Honestly in this specific case, I absolutely love the routine process of formatting the recs lmao I genuinely have fun with it. But also, to see the interactions, how people talk about the fics they’re reccing on their asks, and also I love going through the tags on reblogs and seeing people praising the fics or seeing the author so happy with the recs. It all warms my heart.

@worldswcollide - What has surprised you the most since becoming a mod?

How this fandom is still so alive!!! It’s insane to think Eddie was first shown to us two years ago already and people are still in love with him and the idea of making him and Steve kiss. The creativeness of this fandom, the many fics we get with so many different tropes, AUs, all the different situations we keep putting those blorbos in. How, even within the same trope, different authors can always put their own little things onto their fics and even when they’re similar, no two fics are ever written the same way.

Anonymous - Do you find yourself engaging in reading and writing differently now (for any fandom) because of your work as a mod, or have you changed how you interact with others in fandom spaces?

I feel like I comment more, especially on fics that have less comments or interactions overall.

@sidekick-hero - What makes you fall in love with a fanfic?

I think I said in a previous answer, the characterization but also the way a fic is written. Like, if it’s through Eddie’s POV I love when authors use a kind of fast paced writing with no pauses and many thoughts happening at the same time while he has a hard time thinking about something specific or focusing on only one thing and and and– cause I feel like Eddie’s head is a mess like that. When it’s a fix-it, how the author manages to save everything, how they pass on the grieving and bad feelings of being part of an apocalypse. When they remember the characters are all just kids. When they give them a break. If it’s an AU, how they put our boys out of the apocalyptic situation, how they make Steve still be Steve when he’s just a baker or a teacher or a nurse and not a high school jock with a savior complex anymore. Those little big details.

Anonymous - Do you try to read through every rec or have you found yourself wanting to read more recs than you can keep up with?

Absolutely the second option lmao Also there are a few themes/tropes that are not my cup of tea, so they don’t go to my TBR list, but the list is still huge anyway lmao But I love learning about new works and writers even if I don’t have the time to read them!

Today, all of our recs are from @spicysix specifically! You can always see their recs on our Fic Fridays by checking our #mod lui rec tag.

[denjiholic]

making a sex tape w. nanami kento

✎ warnings/tags: NSFW, explicit content, dom! nanami, praise kink, blowjobs, degredation, rough sex, overstimulation, fingerfucking, cockwarming, deepthroating

✎ pairing: nanami x fem reader

✎ summary: you film a sex tape with nanami

✎ word count: 1.6k

✎ a/n: this work is apart of my jjk sex tape series on ao3. part 2, which is gojo, can be found here!

knees bare on the cool floor, you look up, noting how your position implies the worship of the man sitting on the bed above you.

you weren’t exactly worshiping nanami of course, but you’re on your knees in front of him to serve him in other ways.

you grin up at the black object he holds in his hand, and begin to unbuckle his leather belt.

“such an eager little thing..”, he chuckles.

you slowly pull down his pants, leaving you with your nose almost touching his boxers.

“have you started it yet?”

you’re referring to the video camera in his left hand, the lens staring down on you from your spot on the floor.

he nods in response to your question, watching you through the screen of the camcorder.

you laugh at the semi old - fashioned way he has chosen to record you.

“isn’t that a little outdated?”

he smiles, “i just wanted something that would fully capture your beauty.”

completing your task of removing his bottoms, you tug off his boxers. after taking off the fabric, you’re met with his hard cock in front of your face.

he’s already leaking at the tip, his erection more than ready to be relieved. you lick up from the base, locking eyes with him as you lightly spit on your hand. he shivers when your wet fingers wrap around his skin, stroking up and down slowly.

you finally put your mouth on his slick cock, your alluring expression enough to make nanami start to gently thrust his hips into you. you weren’t usually this messy when giving him head, something you’d done more times than you could count, but now that he was recording you, you wanted to show off a little.

letting drool leak down your chin, you make yourself look like the needy little slut you are, your body aching for his dick.

he fucks your face, keeping the camera steady and on your pretty expression, while your hands and tongue explore his hard cock. you hum around his length, the video recording each and every wet sound you make, as you gag and fully take him into your throat.

“that’s what i like to hear, you’re doing great”

after a while of letting him push into you, your mouth pulls off his dick. before he can look at you with confusion from the loss of contact, you take his shaft and center it in between your breasts. you push your tits together, engulfing his cock. beginning to rub it up and down, you smear precum and saliva onto the skin of your chest.

he follows your lead, sliding his cock in between your soft tits. you look up at the camera with a playful pout, letting out teasing whines as you rub your legs together.

before he reaches orgasm, nanami slides out and lets his own hand go to his length. he fists himself until sticky strings of white are shooting onto your face. you hold out your tongue, letting him cum all over your skin and mouth.

he omits low groans, brushing his cock onto your face. giggling with half lidded eyes, you let him messily paint his seed onto your skin.

“what a beautiful girl”, he hums.

you smile and visibly squeeze your thighs, letting nanami know just how aroused you are, each passing second without relief feels like torture.

noticing your hint, he asks, “why don’t you touch yourself for the camera and show me how you make yourself feel good?”

“of course”

you climb onto the bed, laying down onto your back. the plush mattress and sheets feel delicate and smooth on your warm skin.

he turns along with the camera, making sure he’s able to get your barely clothed body in frame.

pushing aside your damp panties, you make room for your fingers. tracing your clit, you start to stroke yourself in front of him.

he’s hard again, feeling the tempting urge to jerk himself off while watching you.

you play with your pussy, thrusting two fingers in and out of your leaking hole.

he kisses your outstretched hand softly, before asking, “do you think you could hold this for me sweetheart?”

nodding, you let him pass the camera to you.

you angle the screen to show nanami adjusting his position, as he settles his head in between your legs.

after you pull your fingers away from your slit, he licks a line up your entrance, letting your essence collect on your tongue. he maintains eye contact with you as he licks your clit, caressing it with his wet muscle.

you squirm and shake slightly at the pleasure he’s giving you, causing your hand to tremble.

“keep it steady”, he commands.

looking back up at you, he adds two fingers in, gently massaging upwards. You moan, rocking your hips onto his hand.

“does it feel good?”

you respond with a breathless noise of agreement, the constant stimulation from nanami enough to bring you close to finishing. he rubs on your clit with his tongue, continuing to finger you with ease.

“m’gonna cum”, you whimper.

at the warning of your close orgasm, nanami thrusts his fingers faster, sucking on your sensitive spot.

you cry out, feeling your climax surge through your body. holding your hips down, he looks at the camera as he licks up your cum.

once you stop shaking, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“open”

doing as you’re told, you part your lips to let him put his wet fingers into your mouth. you suck on them, tasting yourself on his skin.

“good girl”

he takes the camera from your hand, leaving you on the bed while he positions it on a nearby desk. after ensuring you both will be in frame, he walks back over, and pushes you down into the mattress.

he kisses you deeply, his lips on your own making your body heat rise. you put a hand on his face, drawing him in for more, hungrily letting your tongues mix. when he pulls away, you’re both out of breath.

“get on your hands and knees”, he whispers.

turning over so that you are supporting yourself with your limbs, you get on all fours on the bed.

he inspects your position for a moment before saying, “arch up more.”

you arch your back, feeling the strain in your muscles as you present your ass in the air to him.

“that’s it, a little further”

continuing to raise your hips up, you keep curving your back.

nanami laughs softly to himself, “such an obedient slut.”

your hand tugs on the sheets as you whine, his words getting you wetter by the second.

“beg”, he orders.

“what?”

“beg for me to fuck you”

you look back at him with lustful eyes.

“please put your cock inside me, i need it so fucking bad”, you whimper.

sensing your desperation, he spits on your already dripping cunt. after fisting his cock a couple times, he starts to enter you.

it’s uncomfortable at first, but nanami takes it slow, giving you time to adjust to his length.

“are you feeling alright?”, he asks, ensuring your comfort.

you nod your head, signaling him to start thrusting.

he holds onto your waist, gripping your sides gently as he starts to move his hips. nanami fucks you at a steady pace, his fingers additionally rubbing on your clit. begging and whimpering, you feel him hitting deep inside you.

“you’re doing such a good job taking me”, he coos.

you moan, his words of praise sending heat to your stomach. continuing to caress your pussy and thrust into you, you tighten around his cock. he’s fully bottomed out, balls deep inside your warm cunt.

“fuck, nanami”, you whine.

he pushes deeper into your walls, until your mind goes fuzzy and your vision goes white. your legs tremble when you cum all over his dick, the slick from your pussy coating his length.

continuing to thrust, he doesn’t stop until he’s almost reached orgasm. just before he finishes, he pulls out, jerking his cock until cum is spurting all over the skin of your back. he curses, feeling the full height of his climax. he barely spares any time after he steadies his breathing, and he pins you down onto the bed.

he plants kisses onto your neck, biting at your exposed flesh.

you thread your fingers through his hair, gasping when you feel him start to insert himself in you once more. wrapping your legs tightly around his waist, you push nanami deeper.

he grunts, thrusts getting messier. he pants as he humps into you, letting your bodies mix with one another. nipping at your ear, he listens to your change of breathing, and the small moans you release. your hands claw at his back, leaving marks that will most definitely hurt in the morning.

he clutches your body tightly as he cums inside you again, his eyes shut with pleasure.

“shit”, he says breathlessly.

“shit”, you echo, feeling yourself descend from your own orgasm.

he brings his forehead to yours before giving you a long and meaningful kiss. you hug at his scratched back, and hold him close to you. nanami starts placing kisses on your body. on your arms, your neck, your stomach, your tits, he admires every part of your figure.

when he finally slips out of your pussy, he looks at the remnants of both of your climaxes.

he turns around, eyeing at the camera on the desk. it’s still on, recording your every move.

getting up from his place above you, he takes steps towards the table. after the camcorder is back in his hand, he turns it off, ending the video.

“once we shower, do you want to watch it and see how it turned out?”, you ask.

“if it has you in it it’s already going to be good, so why don’t we just get started on filming a part two?”, he smiles.

you laugh, knowing full well both of you are too tired for another round.

[randomfandomimagine]

Meeting Doc (Marty McFly x Reader)

Characters: Marty McFly, Emmet ‘Doc’ Brown

Fandom: Back to the Future

Tags: Meeting the family

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,4k words

Requested by (Marty) anon: hey Trish!! would you be up for a Marty ficlet where he takes reader (his s/o) with him to meet Doc, and Doc's kind of apprehensive and protective of Marty at first but after awhile he warms up to reader and they all just end up goofing off together at the end? have a wonderful day :)

Link: AO3

A/N: Here it is! I hope you like it, lovely! It was fun to write and to explore this side of the characters!

Reblogs and comments are appreciated!! // Masterlist

Marty McFly x Gender Neutral Reader

Everyone in Hill Valley had heard about Doctor Brown. He was the strange scientist of the town. Some called him crazy and some called him dangerous. Being Marty McFly’s partner, though, you pictured a very different version of that same man.

In Marty’s eyes, Doc was a genius. He was a misunderstood person who was in love with science and very passionate about it, constantly trying out new inventions that would quench his curiosity and help the world.

Perhaps none of those versions were true, but merely the projections of the people that looked at him. Nonetheless, you were more inclined to believe Marty than everyone else. Of course, it helped that Marty was your boyfriend, but Doc didn’t seem dangerous. At the very least, he was a very interesting and unique person that you couldn’t wait to meet.

“Okay” Marty stopped before Doc’s residence, licking his lips and turning to you.

You didn’t know who was more nervous about this meeting, you or Marty. Although you weren’t sure if you would make a good first impression, it was clear that this was very important to Marty too. The both of you were the most important people in his life, and he couldn’t bear the thought of you two not getting along.

“Okay….” He repeated, taking a deep breath. “Are you ready, Y/N?”

“Yeah” You smiled at him and took his hand. “I’m excited to meet him”

“Now, before we come in…” Marty paused, lifting your hand and patting it. “You know Doc’s a little...”

“What?”

“Well… you may think he’s a bit… wacky”

“So I heard”

“Yeah, I know, but…” Marty kept playing with your hand, moving it around as he tried to push out any of his nervous energy. “It takes a bit to really get him, you know? But once you do, he’s the best”

“What are you trying to say?”  

“He’s just different from everyone else in Hill Valley”

“Marty” You patiently said, returning to your sweet smile. “I know what people say about Doc, and it doesn’t bother me”

“Really?” He finally smiled, sighing in relief once you eased his fear.

“Yeah, he might be different, but that just means he’s not boring” You paused, watching how his tense shoulders relaxed slightly. “I want to meet him, and not just because you want me to. I want to meet your friend, who also happens to seem like a very interesting person”

“You’re the best” Marty leaned in to kiss you in the cheek. “Let’s come in then”

You took a deep breath as he opened the door for you. Immediately, you were received with a very different environment than the one you were just in outside of the house. The entire room was dark and felt heavy with electricity. It also smelled slightly like chemicals.

A sudden fear reached you once you realized you knew nothing about science. What if you had nothing in common with Doc to get along with him? It would break Marty’s heart if you two just stood there awkwardly.

“Doc?” He called out, bringing you back to reality as he tugged at your hand, directing you with him through the messy house. “Doc, we’re here!”

After some rustling, footsteps were heard. A tall man with disheveled white hair appeared wearing a white lab coat, with wide eyes and goggles over his forehead.

“Great Scott!” The man muttered, quickly looking at his wristwatch. “Is it time already?”

“Yeah” Marty put his hands on your shoulders. “Y/N is here”

“Doctor Brown!” You smiled at him, offering your hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Marty has told me all about you”

The man stayed distant for a moment as he carefully watched you.

“Yeah, yeah…” He dryly said, absently shaking your hand. “You too”

“Y/N was really excited to meet you, Doc” Marty beamed, shaking you around a little as though passing over to you more of that excitement.

The man only nodded, lifting his chin up and looking down at you. His brown eyes were filled with distrust. Suddenly, that eagerness you felt died down. Instead, it was replaced by a cold disappointment.

Marty had talked so highly of Doc that you thought he was one of the best people in Hill Valley. However, now that you had met him in person, he behaved in a petty manner.

“Tell me, how long have you and Marty been together?” He then asked, to make matters worse. His tone was harsh and judgmental.

“Doc…” Marty complained, but you answered the question nonetheless.

“Almost a year”

“Do you get good grades?”

“Doc!”

The man shut his mouth, looking at his friend in startle. You clenched your jaw, standing up straight to show him you weren’t intimidated by his questioning.

“Is this an interview?” You demanded to know, forcing him to face you.

The two of you glared at each other, further challenging one another. You could feel Marty’s eyes moving from him to you. He stirred in the spot before finally piping up.

“Uh… y-you know what?” Marty nervously said, passing a hand through his hair. “Why don’t I show Y/N that thing you invented? You know, that gadget thingy”

“Very well” Doc replied without glancing at him, too busy staring at you.

“I’ll be right back!” Marty exclaimed as he ran off, trying to take as little time away from you as possible.

As soon as your boyfriend disappeared in the next room, you acquired a defensive stance to mask your outrage. No matter how smart ‘Doc’ was, you weren’t going to let him do that.

“Doctor Brown” You gravely began. “With all due respect, I don’t know what your problem with me is, and I honestly don’t care. I think we should put our differences aside for Marty’s sake”

He opened his mouth to reply, but you interrupted, foreseeing a complaint.

“If you don’t like me for, that’s alright” You continued, peering up at him to meet his tall stature. “But it’s very important to Marty that we get along, so I suggest you do it for him if you really care so much about him”

The scientist stared at you in awe. After a moment of surprise, he smiled at you.

“You are absolutely right”

“T-Thank you”

“I apologize, it was unfair of me to treat you like that” Doc bowed his head down as a sign of respect. “I was only looking out for Marty, but if you truly care so much about him, I must have been too quick to judge you”

“Of course I care about Marty!” You loudly said, lowering your tone when you realized he might return soon. “That is why I wanted to meet you on the first place, Doctor Brown!”

“As did I” He sighed, shaking his head to himself. “Forgive me, Y/N, I merely wanted to ensure you were good for Marty. He is an extraordinary young man and he deserves the very best”

“I agree” Now that the tension had dissipated, a more comfortable silence established. However, you crossed your arms, trying to appear nonchalant. “And well… am I good for him?”

“I’m here!” Marty arrived just then, interrupting the scientist before he could reply. However, the smile in his lips was answer enough.

“Ah, thank you, Marty” He said instead, taking a small oval shaped gadget from him.

“What were you talking about?” The young man looked from one to the other again.

“I was telling Y/N that… I was frustrated with a project… but that is no excuse, I still shouldn’t have taken it out on you, I’m sorry”

“Thank you. And it’s alright”

“Allow me to start again” Doc cleared his throat, offering you his hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I’m Doctor Emmett Brown, but you can call me Emmett”

“It’s nice to meet you, Emmett” You replied with a smile, giving his hand a firm but gentle shake.

A pause followed. Watching Marty with the corner of your eye, you realized he was smiling wide and had the emotion reflected in his eyes. You smiled to yourself.

“Tell me, Y/N” Emmett then said, motioning in a friendly gesture. “Would you like to know how my invention works?”

“I would love to” You took Marty’s hand, following Doc as he went to turn all the lights on and demonstrate to you how his new invention worked.

Tag list: @call-me-harley-quinn​ / @fandomxreaders​ /  @fortheloveofbenyandtom​ / @caswinchester2000​ / @dancingwith-sunflowers​ / @welcome-here-in-my-world / @unstable-puffin-writing​​ // Send an ask if you want to be added to the tag list for this fandom!

[verai-marcel]

Sharing is Caring (RDR2 Fanfic, Arthur x F!Reader, Charles x F!Reader, 18+)

Summary: You and Arthur have been a pair for a few months, and he's fully aware that he claimed you when you were still getting to know everyone in camp. When he notices you and Charles talking together amicably, he gets an idea and can't let it go. He only hopes that you would be willing to go along with it. 

Author’s Notes: Been a while, huh? Just a random idea I had late one night, and it wouldn't leave my head. So in this fic, I’m thinking Arthur is incredibly proud of you, your beauty, your energy, your everything, and wants to show you off. He secretly gets off knowing that you chose to belong with him, and that he’s being such a great guy by letting you enjoy yourself with others. He could be a possessive and selfish man, but instead, being as giving as he is, gives to you what lesser men wouldn’t be able to handle: your freedom to indulge in some fantasies, and as a byproduct, some of his fantasies as well.

Tags: hotwifing, smut, dirty talk, rough sex, blow job, doggy style, paizuri, Charles x F!Reader, Arthur x F!Reader, unedited

AO3 Link is here, my friends.

Word Count: 3589

--------------------

Arthur took a short break after carrying around bales of hay for the horses to fondly watch his lady walk around camp, getting her own chores done. When she caught his eyes, she smiled brightly at him, just for him, and his heart leapt with joy. She had only been here a few months, but within the first week, he had made his move, uncharacteristically bold with the new gang member while she was still learning about everyone. Something about her made him nearly feral with desire.

Luckily, she had felt the same way about him. 

Now he watched as she turned her glowing smile to Charles, and he saw him nod his head to her, a gentle smile on his face in response. He would have been just as good of a partner to her, Arthur thought. He would have treated her kindly, worshipped her body just as he did—

A mental image came unbidden of her lying on the edge of a soft bed, her legs spread wide open, and Charles standing at the foot of the bed, taking her with strong, steady thrusts. He quickly shook his head of the thought, but although he turned back to his work, the idea percolated in the back of his mind. 

***

You had noticed Arthur acting a bit strangely these past couple of days. As you went about your daily routine, it seemed like he wanted to say something every time he managed to run into you, but he could only give you a simple touch on your arm and a shy smile before heading back to work. It was as if he was hiding something, and after being with him for the past few months, you had learned to read him a bit better, but you weren't even close to figuring out why he was being so dodgy lately.

You finally had enough and went to ask Charles. 

"You notice something strange about Arthur lately?" 

He looked at you, raising an eyebrow before he replied. "Does he keep looking like he wants to ask you something and then runs away?" 

"Yes!" you answered, glad that someone else had noticed. "Is he hiding something from me? Should I be concerned?" The pitch of your voice rose with every word as worry creased your features. 

"Don't worry wildflower," he said soothingly, "I'll talk to him."

You nodded, glad that Arthur had such a good friend. "Thank you."

He nodded and wandered away to look for Arthur, while you suddenly realized that he had called you by a pet name, like it was the most natural thing in the world for him. 

***

It was towards the end of the day when you saw both Arthur and Charles coming up to you. Arthur looked a bit chagrined while Charles just walked beside him with a sympathetic glance every now and again. They both stopped in front of you, and Arthur took off his hat. 

You were a bit wary because of the serious look on Arthur’s face. 

"Darlin'," Arthur started, but quickly became silent, staring at the ground for a few seconds, then glancing up at the sky as if he was praying for strength.

"Yes, Arthur? You know I'll listen to whatever it is you have to say. You'll suffer no judgement from me."

He smiled at your reassurance. "Then, would you be willin' to, um, come to the hotel. With both of us?" 

You can't say you were expecting that. Glancing over at Charles, you put two and two together. They must have talked about this before, and only now did Arthur have the courage to ask you such a thing. To be honest, before you had paired up with Arthur, you had imagined having a night with Charles, the mental images bringing heat to your cheeks. Even now, your eyes were drawn to those broad, muscular shoulders and those thick arms that could lift you with no problem. 

"Sure," you finally answered, much to Arthur’s relief. 

Charles looked satisfied and nudged Arthur with his elbow. "See? Nothing to worry about," he said before nodding towards you. "I'll see you both tonight."

He walked away to leave you and Arthur alone. You looked up at your lover, both excited and confused. He had never shown any interest in sharing you before; in fact, you hadn’t even thought of the idea yourself until they had brought it up. The question must have shown on your face, for Arthur stepped closer to you and took your hand. Looking around to make sure no one was around to notice, he took you further into the forest away from camp so he could talk without being interrupted. 

"Ask your question, darlin'," he commanded gently. 

"Were you waiting to share me? Or was this a sudden whim of yours?" 

Arthur leaned back on his heels a bit, scratching his chin. After a few quiet moments of self-contemplation, he finally spoke, low and soft. "A bit of both. Saw how friendly you was with Charles, and I'd trust him to take good care of you."

He stepped closer to you and touched your hair gently. "I'd like to watch you take your pleasure from him."

A shiver of desire ran through you. Arthur's brilliant eyes stared at you with a lustful heat, and you could swear you could feel your heart about to beat out of your chest. 

"He knows I'm sharin' you because I want to show off how beautiful you are, but only to the right people."

“People? Plural?” you asked hesitantly.

“We’ll decide together, but you get the ultimate say. I’d never make ya feel uncomfortable, darlin’.”

Nodding, you felt better about his emphasis on your choice. “Alright, I’ll… I’ll try this.”

Arthur leaned in and kissed your forehead, then pulled back to press his forehead against yours. “You won’t regret it, I promise.”

***

Night fell and you were starting to feel anxious, but in a good way. You had been suppressing your carnal thoughts ever since you started being with Arthur, but some nights, when Arthur was out on a job, you’d curl up in his cot, tent flaps tied shut, and you’d shove your hand down your drawers and indulge in some of your more outlandish fantasies. It wasn’t that you didn’t love Arthur, far from it. It was just… while Arthur could make love so very well, you were a little more adventurous and wanted to experience all kinds of things.

You dreamed of being claimed by two or three men together, taking all of them deep inside of you while you came around their cocks. You even had a scandalous fantasy of John and Abigail taking you aside and using you as their personal toy. Your most outrageous idea had been born out of a stray thought, of being on your knees before Charles, John, Javier, and Arthur, all four of them stroking their long, thick shafts as they spent themselves on your face and breasts, their hands petting your hair and holding your hands as they moaned your name in ecstasy.

You shook your head. You hadn’t thought of that idea in a while. It was nearly enough to bring some wetness between your legs, and you took a deep breath to calm your heart. Charles was waiting at the hotel for the two of you, and as you joined Arthur at the horses, you smiled and waved to him, trying not to show your eagerness for tonight.

“Ready?” he asked, holding his hand out for you to mount his horse.

“Sure am,” you said easily as you mounted up. You felt Arthur settle in behind you, one arm wrapped around your waist as the two of you started to head towards town.

***

“You let me know if you suddenly don’t feel like it no more,” he said gently as you got closer to the hotel.

You smiled. Arthur was so incredibly attentive and kind to you. But you wanted this. You definitely wanted this more than you were letting on. Leaning back against his strong, steady chest, you leaned over to kiss his stubbled chin. 

“I’m still feeling it, Arthur.” You reached behind you and lightly ran your fingers along the curve of his bulge. “In fact, I’m very much looking forward to both of you,” you purred.

A low chuckled reverberated through you, and the arm around your waist tightened just enough to tell you he wanted you right this second, his hand gripping you possessively.

***

“I had a bath brought up here,” Charles said as he let the two of you into the room. “Figure our lady would like a nice, relaxing wash before we have some fun.”

You smiled at him; he was just as thoughtful as Arthur, so warm and gentle when he wanted to be. As you stepped towards the bath, the two men glanced at each other before coming towards you.

“Let us undress you, sweetheart,” Arthur said, taking position behind you. 

You nodded and could only gasp as Charles came forward and kissed your cheek softly as his hands cupped your breasts.

“So beautiful,” Charles murmured before he began to unbutton your blouse slowly. The warmth of the fireplace licked at your revealed skin as he pulled the cloth from your shoulders, sliding down your arms to drop to the floor. At the same time, Arthur had his arms around your waist, undoing the buttons of your skirt, and as that fell, he was untying the ribbon of your drawers, letting them fall as well.

Charles took your hands and led you to step forward out of your pile of clothing. He looked you up and down, your chemise, your stockings, and your boots still on. To your surprise, Charles knelt before you and started to unlace your boots. You placed your hands on his broad shoulders for balance as he helped you remove them.

Arthur suddenly returned behind you, his warmth a welcome feeling to your back. He also knelt down and ran his hands down your legs as he removed your stockings one by one, tossing them aside.

Finally the only thing you had on was your chemise, and Charles turned you around to face Arthur.

“Look at him while I take this off,” Charles whispered in your ear.

You locked eyes with Arthur. He was looking at you with such a lustful curve to his lips, like you were the most gorgeous thing in the world. He was silent as Charles cupped your breasts again and squeezed you gently before moving his hands down to the hem of your chemise. You instinctively reached behind you and wrapped your arms around Charles’ neck, sticking out your chest slightly for Arthur to enjoy. You could see how his erection punched at his jeans, and he reached down to cup himself, almost as if he was willing himself to calm down so he could enjoy the whole show.

Charles slowly lifted up your chemise, giving Arthur a show of your body as he pulled it over your arms and head with your help. He flung it to ground and returned his hands to your body, caressing you up and down your curves.

“Let’s get you all clean, wildflower,” Charles said as he led you to the small barrel bathtub that had been brought into the room. Charles placed his hand into the steaming water to check the temperature.

“Perfect,” he said, and carefully let you step into the tub. You sighed happily as the hot water relaxed your body. You became more relaxed as Arthur and Charles took up positions beside you and cleaned your skin and rubbed your muscles until you were limp and pliant.

“I think she’s ready,” Arthur said, a gentle smile on his face. “Look at my girl, so relaxed.”

You looked at him and smiled back. As you were lifted out of the tub and dried off with a soft towel, you felt like a queen, being tended to with the utmost care. Then Charles carried you off to the bed and laid you down with your rear on the edge, your legs hanging off the side. Arthur sat next to you and caressed your hair.

“Now, I want you to look at me when I tell you, alright? Otherwise you can do whatever you want,” Arthur said.

“Yes sir,” you said automatically without thinking about why you said it.

Arthur let out a low moan. After a moment, he swallowed. “Didn’t know two simple words could get me so hard,” he said, chuckling softly. Resting himself on one arm, he unbuttoned his jeans and freed his aching manhood. He stroked himself slowly, his eyes on your nude body with unabashed hunger.

The sound of shuffling clothing brought your attention to Charles, and you caught your breath. He had divested himself of all of his clothes, his naked body completely revealed. He was so muscular, so well-built, and as your eyes locked onto the girthy shaft between his legs, you knew that he would make you sore the next day.

You couldn’t wait. You spread your legs almost immediately, beckoning him to come closer.

Stepping forward, he took his cock in his hands and rubbed the tip along your slit, spreading your slick around. He dipped in a little bit and then pulled out.

“You’re really tight, sweetness,” Charles said softly as he pressed a finger against your clit and began to stroke you. As you gasped and squirmed, he used his other hand and pressed two fingers inside of you, stretching you out as he continued to play with your clit.

Your hips lifted up towards his touch. “Just fuck me,” you said, panting as you were already reaching the edge.

Both Charles and Arthur laughed.

“Such a vulgar lady,” Arthur teased. “Guess we forgot to wash that dirty mouth.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, but then you gasped as you felt Charles press his cock inside of you. Inch by inch, he slowly pushed forward, and you writhed with pain-laced ecstasy, the burning stretch tempered by his steady strokes on your center that kept you from pulling away.

When he finally bottomed out after what seemed like forever, you felt incredibly full, as if his cock had completely taken over inside of you. You looked down to see where you were joined, and your eyes traveled up Charles’ abs, his chest, then to his face, where he was looking at you with a smug and sexy smirk.

“Look at me,” Arthur commanded suddenly.

You turned to him and saw his devious grin.

“Fuck her,” he said to Charles without looking at him. Arthur’s attention was only on you.

All your heard was an affirmative grunt before you were suddenly being claimed by a very large, very thick cock. You could feel Charles’ hands on your thighs as he gripped you, keeping your legs spread out so he could see himself moving in and out of your wet heat. You could feel the bed shake with every powerful thrust. You could feel your throat growing hoarse with every loud cry you made.

But all you saw were Arthur’s eyes, his pupils blown out with lust as he watched you get fucked so hard that you were breathless.

“Like getting fucked hard, princess?” he growled.

“Yes!” you screamed as Charles gripped your hips, angled himself a little differently and was thrusting into you again, hitting a sweet spot inside of you that made you grab the bedsheets and claw into the mattress.

“Say it.”

“I like getting fucked hard!”

“What a naughty lady,” Charles grunted. “Maybe you should do something about that mouth of hers.”

Arthur grinned and took off his boots before climbing onto the bed, leaning back against the headboard. As Charles pulled out of you, you had two seconds of reprieve before he flipped you over onto your hands and knees and slapped your ass.

“Go to him,” Charles ordered.

Crawling between Arthur’s legs, you let him lovingly grab a fistful of your hair and guide your lips to his cock. You licked it once, twice, before he growled menacingly.

You loved teasing him like this; that growl of his just did things to you that instantly made you even more wet. Taking the tip of him into your mouth, you started to suck on him casually, occasionally stopping to lick the entire length of cock, up and down, before taking him into your mouth again.

You saw Arthur nodding at Charles as he pulled you away from his wonderful cock. That was the only warning you got before Charles slammed into you from behind. You surged forward and let out a strangled cry of pleasure. Charles then grabbed your arms and pulled you towards him, arching your back as he fucked you in earnest, letting your ass bounce off of his hips, his pace increasing as he let your arms go, putting one thick arm around your chest so he could grab one of your breasts, while his other hand reached for your core and stroked you. 

“Look at him,” he whispered into your ear.

You locked eyes with Arthur and your heart nearly stopped. He was so blissed out, watching you with so much heat in his eyes that you swear you could catch fire. He was furiously stroking himself, his breaths coming out in labored puffs. 

“Make’er come,” he rasped. “I want to see her fall apart.”

Charles stroked you harder, faster, and his thrusts somehow felt deeper as he drove you over the edge. You screamed wordlessly to the heavens, your body going stiff for a blissful few seconds before spasming as the climax worked its way through you. Flying and falling, flying and falling, you felt like Charles’ fingers on your core would never let you go, and every time you thought he was done, he would drive into you again and draw out another shaky spasm from you until you went limp, collapsing in his arms.

He gently lay you down next to Arthur and straddled your body. He took your hand and wrapped it around his cock, then wrapped his big hand around yours. Together you stroked him until he let out a long, lustful moan as he spent himself onto your breasts. He had plenty of spend to coat your skin, and when he was done, he gingerly lifted himself off of you and collapsed at the foot of the bed, completely satisfied.

You were still catching your breath when Arthur sat up, got onto his knees, and grabbed at your hips to angle you towards him. Spreading your legs, he thrust into you smoothly; you were so wet and easy to enter.

“So damn gorgeous,” Arthur grunted as he fucked you. “So dirty with all that spend on ya. But yer my naughty lady, ain’t’cha?”

“Yes, yes Arthur!” you cried out as he pounded into you, his pace increasing with each of your cries of his name.

“You want my spend too, darlin’?”

“Yes, please, please Arthur, spend on me, make me your dirty girl, please!” you begged, no longer caring about how incredibly wanton you sounded. 

Arthur moaned at your words, barely pulling out in time before he came, thick ropes spilling from his as he left his mark all over your belly and thighs.

“You a happy lady now?” he asked after the two of you had caught your breaths, still staring at each other in awe.

“Yes, very much so,” you replied. You slowly sat up and looked over at Charles, who was comfortably lying on his side on one elbow, watching the two of you with a happy smile. “Did you have fun too?”

Charles nodded. “I did.” He looked at Arthur. “Thank you. Both of you. I really enjoyed this.”

He stood and started to get his clothes. You glanced at Arthur, but he only shrugged. “I told him he could sleep here tonight, but he said he’d rather let us have some time together.”

You turned back to Charles. “Thank you,” you said, suddenly shy despite all the things the three of you had just done.

He smiled as he pulled up his pants. Walking back towards you, he took your hand and kissed the top of it. “Anytime sweetness, as long as you two will have me.”

***

Once Charles had left, the two of you cleaned up with the now tepid water and cuddled together in the hotel room, sated and happy. As the two of you began to fall asleep, you suddenly needed to know something.

“Arthur?”

“Hm?”

“You ever think about sharing me with anyone else?”

“...”

At his silence, you sat up to look at him in the moonlight. His eyes were closed, but his brows were furrowed, as if he were still thinking.

“Arthur…”

“You really want to know?”

“Yes, I do!”

He let out a sigh. “I realized I’m alright with whoever you want, as long as I get to claim you in the end and you say my name when you let go.”

“Why the sigh?”

“I thought… I thought I could only be comfortable with Charles, since I trust him.” He turned towards you. “But really… I just want you to be happy. So whoever you want, I’ll accept.”

Your heart swelled and you reached out to hug him tight. “I love you, Arthur.”

“I love you too, darlin’.” He held you close. “I’ll always treat you right.”

--------------------

End Notes: Oh lord, I accidentally spawned a few other ideas in my head after writing this. We’ll see, maybe we’ll have some short smut ficlets if I feel like it!

[sisterspooky1013]

Only One Choice, Chapter 11

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

Spark.

She watches Ethan from the couch as he pulls a tin of muffins out of the oven, arranging a few on a plate. She’s been thinking a lot about what Mulder said about not having a spark with his ex. She wonders if she and Ethan have a spark, or if they did at one point. When she thinks about her relationship with Ethan, what stands out to her is commitment, dedication, stability. And love, of course, she does love him.

When they first met through mutual friends, she wasn’t particularly interested. He was perfectly nice, and good looking enough, but struck her more as a potential friend than a boyfriend. He was steadfast, kept showing up, kept gently working to get to know her, and eventually she started to grow fond of him. They’ve joked that while his attraction to her was immediate, hers to him was more of a slow burn. This is what mature, adult relationships are like, right? Measured, practical, logical. When you’re young, wild, and free, you date whoever you have the most fun with, chasing the next exciting experience and the rush of a first kiss. But the person you marry should be someone who you know will be a dependable partner, a good parent, and a lifelong support. That has always been her belief.

Ethan returns to sit with her on the couch, setting the muffins on the coffee table to cool. He picks up her feet and puts them in his lap, casting her a brief smile before he goes to work pressing his thumbs into her arches as he watches TV.

Spark.

Is that what she feels when she’s with Mulder? A spark? Is that why her stomach goes into knots when he looks at her? Why she feels the overwhelming urge to touch him? The sensation that there is an electrical current passing between them is not one she’s ever felt with Ethan, that’s for sure. There was no adrenaline in their first kiss, only contentment. Comfort, safety, security. These are good feelings, ones you can build a life on. Can you build a life on a spark?

“You still going to try on dresses tomorrow with Missy?” he asks, his eyes glued to the TV screen.

“Mhmm,” she answers over her book, which she hasn’t gotten through a page of in over thirty minutes.

“Are you gonna let me see what you pick?” he asks, glancing at her from the corner of his eye with a surreptitious smirk.

She sets the book on her stomach and gives him a chastising smile. “Of course not, Ethan. That’s against the rules.”

“Who made that rule, anyway? I’ve already seen you naked, I should be able to see you in a fancy dress before the big day,” he says with a pointed look.

She swats him with the book.

“The fact that you’ve already seen me naked is also against the rules, so I guess we’re 0 for 2. Don’t tell my mother that,” she lectures playfully.

“I’m sure she has her suspicions, given that we live together,” he says dryly.

“Leave the woman to her ignorant bliss,” she retorts, and they hold eye contact for a moment, exchanging affectionate smiles.

Not a spark, but maybe an ember. Burning steady, carrying them through the dark nights. Sparks die out quickly. She only hopes her spark with Mulder fades soon, because right now it’s burning so bright it’s distracting her from the ember sitting right at her feet.

———

She frowns at herself in the mirror.

“This one is really pretty, Sis, you don’t like it?” Missy asks, tugging at the train to straighten it out.

“I don’t know. Maybe. No.”

She looks forlornly at the rack of dresses she’s already tried on. Every length and cut, style of bodice and neckline. They all seemed wrong.

“I mean, I know you’re generally hard to please, Dana, but this is getting ridiculous,” Missy laments.

“I know, I’m sorry,” she replies, casting Missy an apologetic look.

“Which one do you think Ethan would like? Would that help you decide?” Missy offers helpfully.

Ethan. Right. She realizes that she’s been thinking about what Mulder would make of her in a white dress. She suspects he’d go for the mermaid fit.

“Can we just try again another day, maybe? I think I’m just not in the right headspace for this,” she pleads with her big sister.

“Sure, whatever you want. Let’s go get coffee or something,” Missy says as she ushers Dana back into the changing room.

They go to her favorite local spot, finding two open armchairs near the fireplace, which is off for the summer. Dana tucks her legs under her torso, sipping at an indulgent white chocolate mocha; she feels the need for small pleasures right now. Missy eyes her appraisingly, and she can feel the third degree that is about to commence.

“So what’s up with you?” she finally asks, her tone inquisitive but not abrasive.

“What do you mean?” Dana asks in reply, avoiding her eyes.

Missy’s head drops to the side in exasperation. “Are you really going to make me spell it out for you, Dana? I’m trying to be supportive of your decision to marry Ethan, but you’re making it really hard being so openly miserable all the time.”

Dana looks at her with surprise and indignation. “I am not miserable.”

“Coulda fooled me,” Missy says sarcastically.

Dana shakes her head. “I’m just...I don’t know, I have a lot on my mind.”

“Care to elaborate?” Missy asks with an expectant look.

She sighs and sets her shoulders. She needs to talk to someone about this, and Missy is literally her only option.

“Okay, but first I need you to promise me you’re not going to make a big deal about this, because it’s really not a big deal,” she prefaces with a stern look.

“You know me, I don’t do big deals,” Missy replies, working hard to hide her anticipation for whatever her little sister is about to reveal.

“Okay. So, I met this man at work,” she starts, and Missy’s eyes go as round as oranges. “Missy, don’t look at me like that.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Missy defends, “go on.” She’s leaning forward in her chair, creating less space between them.

“He’s an agent, he was just picking something up for a case he’s working on, but he asked me out, and we’ve kind of been...we’ve become friends,” she says hesitantly, glancing at Missy to gage her reaction. Missy is forcing a blank expression.

“So...you’re dating him?” she asks flatly.

“No! Oh god, no. I mean, he asked me out and I told him that I have a boyfriend, but now we’re just kind of friends, and….Jesus Christ.” She drops her forehead into her palm. Even describing what’s going on with Mulder is apparently impossible. “We are just friends, but...but I’m having a hard time reconciling how I feel about him.”

“How do you feel about him?” Missy asks.

Dana shakes her head. “I don’t know how to describe it, Missy. I love Ethan, I’m not having doubts about him, but this man...I feel so drawn to him. Being around him feels...almost electric.”

“Like you have a spark?” Missy asks, and Dana’s head snaps to look at her. She’s open, curious.

“Yeah...exactly like that,” she replies regretfully.

Missy nods in understanding, and it somehow makes Dana feel a little better, like she’s not totally crazy. “Tell me about him,” she requests, and Dana can’t help but smile.

“Um, he’s a criminal behavioral analyst, in the Behavioral Science Unit. Oxford educated. He’s funny, but in a dry, intellectual way. He has some pretty outlandish ideas, but he’s so passionate about what he believes in, it’s impossible not to take him seriously. He’s kind of intense, but really alluring.” She pauses, knowing she can’t go on much further without veering into gushing.

“Is he cute?” Missy asks, and Dana closes her eyes.

“SO good looking. Painfully so.” She opens them and Missy is smiling knowingly at her.

“Sounds like a real catch, Sis.”

“Yeah, but I’m engaged to someone who is also a great catch in his own right. I feel like I’m in a romcom.”

“So what are you gonna do?” Missy asks earnestly.

Dana looks at her with surprise. “What do you mean? I’m not going to do anything. It’s just distracting, but obviously nothing can or will come of it.”

Missy gives her a doubtful expression, but then raises her eyes to meet with someone over Dana’s shoulder, giving them a questioning look. Dana turns to see Mulder standing beside her, a cup in his hand and that damn boyish smile on his mouth.

“Hey, Scully, we meet again,” he says, glancing between her and Missy.

“Mulder, hi,” she stumbles, bringing her feet to the floor and squirming around as though he’d caught her in a compromised position. “Um, Mulder, this is my sister, Melissa. Missy, this is Fox Mulder.”

He steps forward and extends his hand to Missy, and she shakes it with a flirtatious smile. “Nice to meet you, Fox.”

“Oh, please call me Mulder,” he replies.

“Alright, Mulder, would you like to join us?” Missy asks, and Dana shoots her a look.

“Um, yeah, I can hang out for a minute,” he replies cautiously, pulling up a chair between the two of theirs.

“So, how do you and Dana know each other?” she asks, and Dana isn’t sure if she’s asking because she realizes who he is, or because she doesn’t.

“We work together, technically speaking. I’m a criminal behavioral analyst in the Behavioral Science Unit.” Missy gives Dana a look that tells her it was the latter. “What are you two up to today?” he asks, running his palm over a stubbled cheek. She can hear the scratch of the short hairs against his skin and it sets off a tingle at the back of her neck.

“We were just doing some wedding dress shopping,” Missy offers, watching his reaction closely.

“Ah,” he says, only moderately concealing his dissatisfaction, “sounds like a good time.” His tone is dry and not at all genuine. “So, Scully,” he says, directing his words to Dana, “Priscilla was wondering if you could stop by next weekend. She has something to show you.”

She smiles coyly. “Does she? Not a hairball, I hope?”

Mulder chuckles. “No, it’s a file, actually. Her personal favorite, she’d love to share it with you.”

“I think I might be free on Saturday,” she replies, “I just need to check, um…”

“Check with Ethan, right,” he finishes, his smile fading a bit.

“Right,” she confirms, her own smile quickly extinguishing.

Mulder stands. “I’ll email you, to confirm.” He turns to Missy, “It was nice to meet you, Melissa.”

Missy beams at him. “Likewise.”

Mulder turns to Scully and gives her a longing glance, then leaves. They watch him go, waiting until the door has closed behind him to speak.

Missy slaps Dana’s arm. “Oh. My. GOD, Sis!” she exclaims with wide eyes and an open mouth.

“What?” Dana returns.

“Spark? That is a goddamn bonfire. Even I could feel it,” she says with a look of wonder.

Dana gives her a pained expression then drops her head into her hands with a groan.

“Why does he call you Scully? And who the hell is Priscilla?” Missy adds.

Dana lifts her head, looking at her sister regretfully with a shrug.

“He said I don’t look like a Dana. Priscilla is his cat.”

Missy closes her eyes for a moment and gently shakes her head, her eyebrows furrowing like she’s trying to reconcile all this information in her brain.

“Whoa, so you’ve been to his place?” Missy asks incredulously.

Dana nods hesitantly.

“Sis, what are you doing? If you were to tell me that you’re going to break it off with Ethan and run away with that beautiful man I would honestly support you. But if you’re trying to keep things on the up and up here, a private rendezvous at his apartment seems like a really bad idea.” Missy is deeply confused, not used to being in the position to tell her sister what decisions are unwise. That is typically Dana’s role in their relationship.

Dana glares at her sister defensively. “We’re just friends, Missy. Men and women can be just friends.”

Missy shoots her a ‘do you think I was born yesterday?’ look.

“Sure they can, if they aren’t insanely attracted to each other. That man practically devoured you with his eyes, Dana. He wants to be more than your friend,” she says emphatically.

“Well, he’s not going to be. I’m with Ethan. And I’m an adult who can control myself enough to maintain boundaries with a platonic friend who happens to be an attractive man. I’m not a Neanderthal, Missy.” She’s using her professor voice, presenting the topic with supporting evidence. Only the facts, folks.

“Okay,” Missy says, acquiescing. “If you trust yourself then great, have fun with your friend. Does Ethan know you’re gallivanting around with a sexy behavioral analyst?”

The guilty look that overtakes Dana’s face is answer enough.

“Well,” Missy continues, “just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she brings levity back to the conversation with a little smirk.

“That leaves me with a lot of options, Missy,” Dana retorts, and Missy slaps her arm again.

[thenocturnalmushroom]

A Cozy Night - Touyuki - CCS

Tags: Fluff; Domestic; Domestic Fluff; Self-Indulgent; Established Relationship

Read on AO3

It was almost eleven at night and Yukito still having no desire to go to sleep. He was comfortably sitting under his kotatsu, accompanied by a good show on his laptop, a tin of cookies and some delicious hot tea – a perfect combo to a winter night. His plan was to finish watching the said show that same night, even if he had to stay up until dawn; it was a Friday night and he had no class nor job the next morning so he had no worries regarded his bedtime. Besides, the show was worth the loss of some sleep hours.

The silver-haired boy was completely immersed into the story, anxiously nibbling at a sugar cookie and barely noticing how his body was slowly leaning toward the laptop while his almost unblinking eyes refused to go away from the screen. The first real confront of the main character and the true villain was finally happening, and it was intense. Yukito had been waiting for it for the last seven episodes and he didn’t want to miss even the smallest detail; he was sure that everything about that scene would be important later in the story. His focus was completely stolen by the show and everything else was forgotten for some long, long minutes.

And that was why the boy nearly jumped out of his skin when the bell of his house rang, letting the half-eaten cookie slip from between his fingers.

It took him only a second to recover from the startle. He quickly paused the video and retrieved the cookie from the table, throwing it into his mouth, before heading to the front door, still chewing on the sweet. Being a little past eleven now, Yukito could only think about one single person who would come to visit him this late at night - and it made his heart singing inside his chest.

He hurried to open the door, and there was no surprise when he found Touya waiting outside, his hands shoved into the pockets of his heavy coat and a soft smile touching his lips.

“Hey!”, his boyfriend greeted him so casually, as if he wasn’t clearly freezing in that cold night.

“Touya!”, Yukito exclaimed his name for both the pleasure of saying it and as slight scold. He gave a step aside. “Hurry inside or you’ll end up getting sick!”

Touya wasted no time and complied. While Yukito closed and locked the door again, Touya carefully landed his backpack on the floor right before taking off his shoes, placing them besides his boyfriend’s ones.

“What are you doing here?”, the silver-haired boy asked while helping the other to take out his coat, which was slightly wet from the light snow that was falling outside. “I thought your shift at the restaurant would only end around midnight.”

“Things were too slow today, so my boss decided to close earlier.”, Touya casually passed his hands through his damped hair, shaking it softly. He had strongly regraded not having brought with him an umbrella or at least a bonnet.

Yukito quickly run to the cupboard to fetch a towel for him.

“If you have some spare time, you should have gone home and rested. You’ve been working harder than the usual this week.”, he said, handing the towel to Touya. It wasn't like he wasn't happy to see the other boy. Not at all. The week had been so busy that they had barely had time to meet outside the few classes they share together. However, Yukito couldn’t help but worry about Touya and his health; he would gladly sacrifice some of their time together if that meant that Touya was getting a proper time to rest, recovering all the energy he had spent between classes and all his numerous part-time jobs. He knew his boyfriend was strong, but he was still human.

“I think I can rest here pretty well, can’t I?”, Touya put the towel round his neck and gave a step forward to close even more the already short distance between them. Gently, he touched Yukito’s face, a cold hand on a warm skin, giving to both of them a pleasant shiver. Looking unbothered by the coolness of his boyfriend’s hand, Yukito covered it with his own hand, rubbing his cheek against Touya’s palm as if to lend it some warmth in a tender, affectionate gesture. As tender and affectionate as the smile they both wore on his lips. “Besides, I am home.”

Yukito’s eyes widened for a moment, his face feeling suddenly hot; he wasn’t waiting for a response like that. He felt a bubbling sensation being born inside his stomach and rise through his throat, taking the shape of a soft, cheerful giggle. “Tou-ya, you’re such a sappy!”

“Who are you calling sappy?”, Touya frowned, using the hand he was resting on the other boy’s face to pinch his cheek lightly. He looked annoyed, but Yukito knew it was only a facade; he could see all the softness around his boyfriend’s dark eyes, at the tips of his thin lips, almost imperceptibly turned upwards. And it only made him laugh even more.

Seeing Yukito like this made Touya’s frown melted into the fondest of the smiles. The urge of kissing the silver-haired boy he always feels whenever he sees his face – or thinks about him – only intensified at the that moment and Touya decided to just go for it. He leaned forward, now with both of his hand gingerly cupping Yukito’s face, bringing him closer and closer and closer, so ready to taste his lips once again, always so soft and sweet.

But the kiss never came.

“No! No! No! Rest first, kisses second!”, Yukito declared and ,with an unexpected quick movement, he turned his boyfriend around before putting his hand on his back to gently lead him to the living room.

“Yuki, what the…”

“You go rest and I’ll make some sandwiches and pour some tea for us. You can kiss me as much as you want later.”

“Fine.”, Touya agreed in defeat. It wasn’t exactly what he had planned, but it sounded good enough for him.

--

Touya took a place at the kotatsu, finishing drying his hair while listening Yukito in the kitchen preparing their snacks. He thought about offering some help to his boyfriend, but he quickly dismissed the idea; Yukito had insisted so much to him to take a rest that the boy would, for sure, kicked him out of the kitchen in no time. Without much to do, he stared at the laptop over the table, finding a paused image of what looked like an intense fight scene on its screen, and started trying to guess what this show was about.

It didn’t take much time for Touya to start feeling bored. He started darting looks at the open door, as if doing so Yukito would hurry up and come back to keep him company. He had been craving his boyfriend presence during that entire hectic week; they had had so little time to spend together these past days and Touya was eager to compensate for the lost time, for all the hugs and kisses and smiles they wasn’t able to share throughout the week.

A few more minutes had passed and Touya decided that being scolded and kicked out of the kitchen by Yukito would worth it.

However, none of it came to him.

“Ah, Toya! Great timing!”, exclaimed Yukito, his hands holding a tray piled up with half dozen  sandwiches. Resting over the sink top, another tray was waiting to be picked up, this one carrying two mugs and a steaming teapot. The sweet essence of the tea was hanging on the air, hitting Toya’s noise with the fresh smell of peaches and mint. “Can you pick the other tray, please?”

Carrying a tray each, Touya and Yukito came back to the living room and, without any waste of time, they set the table for their almost-midnight snack, sitting shoulder to shoulder under the heat of the kotatsu. Touya asked about the movie on the laptop screen and Yukito gladly talked all about it while they were eating, making sure to avoid any greater spoilers.

“That show sounds pretty cool.”, Touya said, between a bite and another. If he were being honest, he wasn’t sure if the plot of the show actually sounded that great or if it was Yukito’s enthusiasm about it that picked up his interest on it.

“If you want to, we can watch it together! I wouldn’t mind rewatching the previous episodes with you.”, his smile was so warm, so cozy when he made the offer that Touya found himself completely unable to answer anything but yes.

“Sure! Do you wanna start right now?” and the silver-haired boy didn’t need any other word to draw his laptop closer and click back on the very first episode of the series.

Rewatching the show was still pretty fun, but having Touya by his side was the best part of it. And it wasn’t only because now he had someone to share his thoughts about it. Having Touya’s arm around him, involving his body with his warmth, his scent, his strong but gentle presence, filled Yukito’s heart with the coziest of the feelings.

He felt whole. He felt safe.

He felt at home.

The same could be told about Touya. The boy could feel all the tiredness of the week melting away, leaving his shoulders lighter and his chest full of warmness and the sweetest peace. He nestled his boyfriend comfortably into his arms and rested his cheek on the top of his head, breathing slowly, absorbing Yukito’s presence and letting it impregnate his lungs, his heart, his whole being.

It was like magic; something fantastic and hard to describe, but so easy to feel – to get immerse in.

Yukito was his safe place and Touya always does his best to be the same to Yukito.

In their small, quiet world, Touya could finally feel truly relaxed, leaving all the stress and exhaustion from that long, long week behind and embrace the serenity of the moment. He allowed his body to go limp and his eyelids to get heavier and heavier, giving in to a sweet sleepiness state.

“I think we should go sleep.”, Yukito suggested, a hint of laughter in his voice. “We can watch the rest of the show tomorrow.”

Touya yawned. “Good idea.”

The taller boyfriend unwrapped his arms from around the other to stretch his body a bit, letting the silver-haired boy free to lean toward and close his laptop. But, before he could do anything else, such as get up and start cleaning up the table, Touya enlaced his waist once again, keeping him close to himself.

“Hey, don’t think I forgot about the kisses you’ve promised me!”, Touya smiled and cupped Yukito’s face with one of his hands, his thumb tenderly stroking his boyfriend’s cheek.

Yukito’s eyes lighted up like a moon finally appearing from behind a thick layer of clouds; so bright, so beautiful, so powerful against the darkness. Toya nearly lost his breath when he smiled back at him, the same smile that made him fall in love so many years ago. Sweet and vibrant. So sincere and genuine, coming from his core and growing until it blossom into his lips.

Those warm, soft lips that Touya was dying to kiss. So, that was what he did it.

Toya leaned forward and kissed Yukito exactly the way he was waiting for the whole day: slowly and affectionate, enjoying every single second of it. There was no hurry; they had all the time in the world - their private world. They could just allowed themselves to get lost in each other’s touch, to dive in each other’s warmth, in the sweetness of the other’s mouth. To Yukito, Touya’s lips had always tasted like peaches, but, somehow, they tasted especially sweet that night; he wondered if the tea they had had earlier would have something to do with that. Coincidentally, Touya found Yukito’s lips softer than ever, more tempting than ever.

“Satisfied?”, Yukito asked with a soft giggle when their lips parted. Even with their mouths parted, they kept their faces close, forehead to forehead, the tip of their noses softly brushing to the other in a loving gesture, while their bodies followed the example and still tangled in an embrace so tight that one could feel the other’s heart beating fast against their own.

“Not quite. I could have a dozen more of it, but I’m so tired right now that I think I’ll save them for tomorrow.”, as to emphasize his words, Touya closed his eyes and let his head slowly slip until it found the curve of Yukito’s neck, resting there with a content sigh. He could feel his boyfriend’s body shaking in a quiet laughter.

Yukito landed a gentle kiss on the top of Touya’s head, whispering against his dark strands: “They will be waiting for you in the morning.”

Hearing those words, Touya smiled and released the weight of his tired body over Yukito’s. Caught by surprise, the silver-haired boy’s body easily gave in with the sudden extra weight and lay down on his back with his boyfriend on his top, making both boys laugh.

Touya rested his head on Yukito’s chest and hugged his wait, while Yukito wrapped his arms around his shoulder, using one of his hands to stroke Touya’s hair in the most tender way, giving his boyfriend some pleasant goosebumps.

“We should go to bed, you know? Or we’re gonna catch a cold.”, Yukito said, but made no effort to get up or made his boyfriend to do so.

“We’ll be fine. We have the kotatsu and each other to keep ourselves warm the whole night.”, Touya’s voice was heavy with sleep, getting lower and lower with every word he said. Yukito only answer was a soft giggle and another kiss on his head.

They both felt so comfortable, so in peace resting in each other’s arms. They let the pounding of the other’s heart be their lullaby, leading them to a sweet slumber.

“Tou-ya~!”, Yukito called him with what was left of his consciousness.

“Hm?”

“Love you.”

Touya smiled to himself. “I love you, too.”

[chenziee]

Dine and Dash (chapter 1)

[Read on AO3 or under the cut]

Can you believe it's been 11 years since Ace was saved from Marineford? Yeah, me neither. Still feels like fucking yesterday. So happy they managed save him in the end :) #ForeverInDenial

I took the opportinity of the anniversary of chapter 574 being published to finally write the obligatory Everybody is alive and nothing hurts AU that we all deserve, especially a certain beautiful, precious fire boy <3 (And yes, I know the anniversary was yesterday, I fucked up but shhh)

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Relationships: ASL brothers, Law/Luffy

Rating: Teen and Up

Words: 1894

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Everybody Lives, Nothing Hurts, Portgas D. Ace Lives, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, lawlu being cute, Protective Sabo (One Piece), Protective Portgas D. Ace, best big bros protective of their innocent baby bro, ASL Brothers, what else uhhh, i might add more as i go, Donquixote "Corazon" Rosinante Lives

Summary: When the three brothers who had once terrorized the Grey Terminal as well as the Goa Capital come together, nothing good can come of it. Even though they're not children anymore. Or maybe especially since they're not children anymore.

Or; the obligatory Everybody Is Alive And Nothing Hurts AU

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When Ace jumped from his raft up onto the railing of Luffy’s ship, he honestly didn’t expect someone to be standing right where he landed. He couldn’t blame Nami for screaming like she did in favor of a normal greeting, and it was also no surprise when Luffy’s voice came only a second later, asking what was wrong in a voice full of alarm. What was surprising, however, was when Luffy’s head popped out from behind what looked like a large polar bear sleeping right on the deck of the Thousand Sunny. Seriously, Luffy and his tendency to pick up the weirdest things.

"Hey, Luffy," Ace greeted, waving at his brother.

A bright smile appeared on Luffy's face when he realized just who the intruder was, scrambling to his feet and immediately falling over, nearly landing face first onto the lawn. Ace just had to laugh at the sight, but his amusement soon died down. Instead, he had to frown at the pained groan and cursing in a voice that was decidedly not Luffy's, and neither did it seem to have come from the polar bear who was still snoozing away without care.

"Sorry, Torao," Luffy apologized with a sheepish smile directed at the person he had apparently tripped over.

Who the hell was ‘Torao?’ Who was the person Ace could only assume his baby brother was napping with? Seemed like an interrogation was in order. Later though, there were arrangements to be made first. After all, having back up on this couldn't hurt and he had the best back up just waiting for him on the next island.

Picking himself up and running over, Luffy nearly crashed into Nami in his hurry this time, but his navigator managed to side step him at the last second, probably expecting something like this to happen. Luffy only shot her a crooked smile and a half-hearted apology, prompting her to shake her head at him, crossing her arms over her chest in a scolding manner.“Honestly, how is your entire family like this? One of you is going to give me a heart attack one day.”

“Sorry,” Ace and Luffy apologized in unison, the both of them bowing to her for good measure. After all, they both knew all too well that Nami’s wrath was scarier than anything they had ever witnessed on the Grand Line so far.

Nami huffed, shooting one last unhappy glare at them before she turned around and said, “We should be arriving at the next island in a few hours, I’m going to check what we need and get things ready.”

Ace sighed in relief; it seemed like they had somehow managed to avoid the worst.

"Ace, what are you doing here?" Luffy asked as soon as Nami walked away.

Ace grinned, finally jumping off of the railing he had been perching on. “Can’t I just come visit my favourite baby bro?”

“Of course you can,” Luffy said, sticking his tongue out at him. “I just didn’t expect you. Weren’t you going to Wano to see Tama?”

“Yeah, but there was a change of plans. Sabo’s actually on the island you’re heading to so I took a detour,” Ace explained with a shrug.

The reaction was immediate. Just as Ace expected, Luffy perked up even more, his smile going impossibly wide and Ace could swear there were stars in his eyes. He was also basically vibrating in place and Ace had to chuckle at the sight. He understood Luffy’s excitement, neither of them got to see the revolutionary nearly as often as they would have liked for obvious reasons, but Luffy was just too cute when he got like this. How he even did the… bright all over thing was something beyond Ace’s understanding but he loved seeing it every single time regardless.

“Sabo’s there?! Why didn’t he tell me?” Luffy cried out, grabbing onto Ace’s arm in his eagerness.

Before Ace could reply, the other person who had been hidden behind the polar bear until then stood up, muttering seemingly to himself, but loud enough for both Ace and Luffy to hear, “Oh great, there’s going to be three of them.”

“Torao~,” Luffy whined, turning to look at the grumpy man with a pout. “Don’t say it as if it’s a bad thing,” he finished, bouncing away from Ace to stand in front of the other man instead.

Ace scowled at the sight of Luffy peeking up at ‘Torao,’ who only stared back impassively as if he wasn’t bothered in the least by Luffy’s puppy eyes. Ace didn’t think that was even possible. Not to mention they were standing way too close to each other for Ace’s tastes.

“It is a bad thing. There’s way too much energy just with you, Luffy-ya. I don’t need more of it around me,” Torao told him, finishing with a light flick to Luffy’s forehad. An action that nearly had Ace toss a fireball at him if only Luffy didn’t start giggling over it.

Suddenly, Luffy stepped even closer to the man, wrapping his arms around his waist and grinning up at him. “You love it,” he announced, sounding all too proud of himself.

“In very small doses,” Torao admitted before leaning down and kissing the top of Luffy’s head.  

Oh, Sabo was so hearing about this.

Ace cleared his throat loudly, raising his hand to make sure the fire crackling threateningly in his palm was the first thing Torao would see when he looked in his direction.

“Nice to see you again, too, Fire Fist-ya,” the man said flatly, one eyebrow raised.

Ace smiled at him, making sure it look as fake as he could make it. “Trafalgar Law. What do you think you’re doing to my little brother?”

“What does it look like?” Law shot back, showing a smirk that only managed to irk Ace further. If Luffy wasn’t standing right there, he would really have thrown that fireball at him.

“Ace?” Luffy asked, tilting his head to the side in confusion as he looked at the fire dancing angrily under Ace’s command.

Ace sighed at that, reluctantly putting the flames out. That asshole was seriously so lucky Luffy was there. He and Sabo would have to corner him later and threaten him when Luffy wasn’t looking. “Anyway, as I was saying—” Ace shook his head, trying to make himself focus on the matter at hand— “I don’t think Sabo knew you were this close to the island. He said he only had one afternoon free and absolutely needed to see me for some reason. So, Luffy. Want to come with us to get something to eat?” he asked, even though he knew the answer. As if Luffy would ever say no to that.  

“Let’s get meat!” Luffy exclaimed loudly, full of enthusiasm and throwing both arms in the air. He nearly punched Law in the face.

Sadly, it really was only nearly but Ace still took great pleasure in returning the smirk Law had given him earlier. He quickly turned back to Luffy, however, and replied, “Well, Sabo seemed like he had something in mind already so let’s just go and see.”

Luffy nodded at his words, a bright, happy smile that looked just the same as it did all those years ago at Mt. Colubo on his face, and Ace felt his previous smirk melt into a fond smile in return. There was warmth in his chest at the sight, the knowledge that his little brother was still the same even after everything that had happened over the years making him incredibly happy.

Without even realizing, Ace’s hand came to touch his own exposed chest, his fingers tracing the rough, large burn scar that Akainu had left there during the war four years ago. It was honestly a miracle he was even alive. He had fully accepted death back on the execution scaffold but then Luffy crashed in, just as loud, just as unexpected as always, bringing so much chaos with him that it changed the entire course of the whole ordeal. And then he accepted it once more when he threw himself in Akainu’s way to protect Luffy.

But now here they were, both of them miraculously alive—thanks to Jinbe, Marco, Vista, and, as much as it pained him to admit it given the very recent circumstances, mostly thanks to Trafalgar Law’s incredible timing and medical skill—and both bearing lava burn scars on their chests as a reminder of what could have happened; what was so incredibly close to happening. It was incredible how much the experience had changed them, yet somehow, how they were still the same as they used to be when playing pirates in their little tree house base.

And when Sabo had appeared in front of them again, with tears and apologies and so very alive, it felt almost inevitable.

Ace shook his head at his own thoughts. This was no time to get all sentimental. “Okay, Sabo’s waiting. Are you ready to go? Striker isn’t really a two person boat but it should be okay,” Ace said, gesturing towards his fire powered raft.

“Yes!” Luffy shouted like he had just won something. “Your boat always seems so fun to play with,” he sang, running over to look down at the slim, sleek raft that was gently swaying along the Sunny.

“Glad you’re so excited,” Ace chuckled.

He went to jump back down on Striker immediately, but Luffy stopped him when he spoke up next, “Oh wait. Do you think we could take the Mini Merry? Torao is meeting his dad on the island, too.”

Ace paused, looking at Luffy with a slight frown. What the hell was a ‘mini merry?’ But more importantly, did they really have to take Trafalgar with them?

Thankfully, Law had saved Ace from having to deal with either of those questions when he spoke up instead, “Thanks but I’ll stay here, Cora-san won’t be there until evening anyway. Plus, I’m not going to risk your brother drowning me on the way.” He shot Ace another one of those smirks when he finished and Ace almost wanted to burn it off of his face but…

“Fair point,” he admitted instead, surprised at the laughter that bubbled out of his chest. He shuddered in horror at the idea of this asshole growing on him.  

“I have no idea what you two are talking about,” Luffy mumbled in annoyance, but perked back up a second later when he announced he was going to let the crew know he was going on ahead.

Ace and Law looked at each other, Ace trying to convey with his eyes the threat of bodily harm that he was thinking in regards to the man standing in front of him. He could only assume he had succeeded when the corners of Law’s mouth twitched up slightly, followed by the surgeon flipping Ace off before he turned around and walked off, sitting down and making himself comfortable with his back resting against the somehow still asleep polar bear.

He was seriously pissing Ace off.

He did have to give it to him, though; if nothing else, this asshole had guts. Reluctantly, Ace had to admit that was probably the most important qualification to pass as Luffy’s boyfriend. He was still not getting out of that interrogation though.

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[chapter 2 coming...... as soon as I can finish it]

[wefoundloveunderthelight]

The Love Cruise - by GleefullyCaptainSwan

Read on AO3: Chapter 1

Or on FF

Tagging: @kmomof4 @lfh1226-linda @teamhook

Summary:

When Emma Swan’s boss & co-workers decided they are tired of waiting for her to start dating again, they reluctantly convince her to join them on The Love Cruise, a new experience where singles go to meet and flirt their cares away in the middle of the ocean. Dragging her brother, David along for the ride, she embarked on a two-week adventure that was about to change her life.

Killian Jones, former Navy Lieutenant and widower, swore off dating for the rest of his life. Which is why when his best friend Robin convinced him to take a job as the Captain of the newest ship in the fleet, a floating dating cesspool of horny men and women, it seemed a cruel twist of fate. Little did he know, one of the guests about to board his ship, would alter his own course in life forever.

Chapter 1: The Adventure of a Lifetime

“First he runs off and gets married and then he goes and gets himself a promotion. I guess you would say the world is his oyster.”

“Or he’s having his cake and eating it to.” The man at the back of the bar shouts.

“Aye, so today as we celebrate, I want everyone to raise your glass to our newest Lieutenant, and my little brother, Killian Jones. I’m so proud of you.”

“To Killian Jones.” The crowd roared.

 5 years later

“That’s not how I remember it at all, I’m pretty sure you were the one who walked in on them.”

“I would have remembered that.”

“I doubt that, you were drunk as a skunk and before you left the room, you yelled to the poor girl, and I quote, I'm no weatherman but I know you're going to get 3 inches tonight.”

“God, I thought you said that.”

“That was all you man, I thought the Captain was gonna throw you in the brig.”

“I’m pretty sure Liam saved my ass that night.” Killian laughed, remembering how many times his brother kept him out of trouble in his years in the Navy.

“I think Liam saved your ass most nights.”

“Aye.” He nodded sadly and Robin held up his glass.

“To Liam, gone too soon.”

“To Liam.” He swallowed the warm liquid, gulping it down and putting his glass back on the table in front of him. “I can’t believe it’s been two years.” He added solemnly, memories of his brother’s urn as he was released out to sea, being presented with the flag, the sound of each pop of the as the rifles went off, staring out to sea to the sound of the bugle.

“Sometimes it feels like yesterday.” Robin responded and Killian closed his eyes, pinched his nose, before shaking off the memories and waiving the waitress over for another order. “So, what’s your next move?”

Killian sighed. “I don’t know yet, I’ve got a few interviews this week.”

Robin cut him off, “Cancel them.”

“I’m sorry, you want me to cancel all my interviews?”

“Yes, cancel them, I have a great opportunity for both of us.”

“Working together?”

“Yes, I told you that I got a job last week, right? Well, they need a Captain and I put in a good word for you.” Killian knew he had gotten some amazing opportunity the last time they spoke on the phone, but he didn’t provide many details on what exactly that opportunity was.

“What’s the catch?” Killian regarded him suspiciously.

“Why does there have to be a catch?” He smiled innocently.

“Because you would have told me about it sooner unless you’ve been trying to figure out the best way to bring it up. And you conveniently chose a night when we have been drinking heavily, so that tells me there is a catch, Rob. So, spit it out.”

“Ok, so there’s a catch, but hear me out first.” Killian groaned but put his hand to his lips with a locking motion and gestured for him to continue. “She’s the newest ship in the fleet, top of the line technology, she would be any Captain’s wet dream to sail.” Killian chuckled, sitting up on his stool. “3600 passengers, 1300 crew members, including the best purser any ship could ask for.” He grinned widely pointing to himself.

“Get to the part where you tell me this ship sails to the Underworld and has an excursion to visit Hades himself or some other ungodly reason to explain why you waited til I was piss drunk to ask me.”

“Ok, but I haven’t even told you about the size of the Captain’s quarters yet…” Robin frowned as he shifted impatiently in his seat. “Alright, it’s the maiden voyage of…” He covered his mouth, “The wurv ruse.”

“I’m sorry what?”

“Fine, it’s a Love Cruise.” He shouted louder than he meant to. “One of those singles cruises where people go to meet each other.”

He tossed a brochure down onto the table and Killian flipped through it, his groan vibrating as he read the tag line out loud. “The Love Cruise, where singles meet on the adventure of a lifetime. Don’t you deserve a little TLC.” He tossed the brochure onto the table. “Oh, bloody hell.” He cursed. “Ma’am…” He gestured for the waitress. “I’m not fucking drunk enough to listen to this man anymore, if you could please bring a few more of those shots as quick as possible and make them doubles.” He added before turning back to Robin. “Are you out of your mind? What would give you the foggiest reason to think I would be interested in this?”

“It’s not like you would be signing up to be part of the singles cruise, you would just Captain her.”

“Why are you doing this?” He asked suspiciously. “You and Marian have been divorced for years and it’s not like you’re desperate for women.” His friend glanced to the table and Killian knew there was more he wasn’t telling him. “Out with it.”

“You know that woman I met last year?”

Killian chuckled, “How long do I have to answer, mate. You’re going to have to be more specific than that?”

“You’re hilarious. No, remember that entertainer I met when we took that cruise to Mexico last year, Regina Mills.”

“The lass we met who threw her drink in your face and told you to get lost? How can I forget, she’s given me months of pleasure just thinking about that moment.”

“Anyway, they hired her as the Cruise Director for this sailing, and it’s my opportunity to actually get to know her. You know because she won’t have anywhere else to go to continue avoiding me.”

“So, your selling point is that if I Captain this ship, I might get to see this woman destroy you on a daily basis?”

“Would it convince you to say yes?”

“I don’t know.”

“Killian it’s been three years. If you want to be celibate for the rest of your life, that’s your business, but you’d be an idiot to pass up this opportunity.” He pulled a piece of paper out of his jacket and slid it across the table. On it was a six-figure dollar amount, Killian grabbed the paper and pulled it closer to his face.

“How many years is the contract for this amount?”

“That’s per year, Killian.”

“Bloody hell.”

“It’s a lot more than the Navy paid us, and no one is going to be trying to sink our ship.”

He pushed the paper back across the table to Robin. “I just don’t know if this is a good idea, I have responsibilities here.”

“Brother, Milah wouldn’t want you hiding out on that damn houseboat, rotting away in your own depression. She’d kick you in the ass and tell you that you were being a bloody prat for walking away from this kind of opportunity.”

“Don’t invoke my dead wife, Mate.” He said angrily. Robin raised his hands in defeat and Killian knew he meant no harm. He sighed and looked over at the paper again. It was more money than he had seen in his entire life, and it was a real ship. He’d been working as Skipper on a fishing skiff for the last year, and while he enjoyed the security of being out on the water, it sure didn’t pay much.

“You know there’s no rule that says the Captain has to date the passengers, in fact, I’m pretty sure they frown on that type of behavior?”

“I get that, but I don’t particularly want to watch all the debauchery either.”

“I told you the Captain’s quarters are huge, right?”

“And they know about my hand?” He looked down at his scarred hand, he had lost the full use of it on one of the worst nights of his life, the night he lost his brother.

“They don’t care, you are a skilled Captain, trust me, they are very interested in you, Killian. All you have to do is be at the interview tomorrow, and the job is yours.”

Killian groaned, “I’ll sleep on it.” Judging by the smile his friend was displaying on the other end of the table, he already knew that Killian was going to show up to that interview.

~*~

“Have you seen that guy before?” Ruby walked over to Emma’s spot by the front door.

Emma glanced to the end of the bar. She hadn’t noticed the man until Ruby pointed him out. He wasn’t familiar to her, he was very nice looking, but also very intoxicated. “Don’t recognize him, but Will needs to cut him off.”

“That’s what you’re focused on, instead of how hot he is or the fact he’s new in town?”

“He’s ok, I guess. But honestly, I’m going to go tell Will to stop serving him. I don’t want to have to throw him out later.”

“Boo, you’re so boring, Emma.”

Emma turned and flashed her friend the middle finger before approaching the bar. “Hey, brown suede jacket.” She pointed to the man at the end of the bar. “How many has he had?”

“Oi, I was thinking of cutting him off. He’s been nursing that beer for an hour, but the three shots he drank with them seem to have accelerated his inebriation.”

“Yeah, cut him off, he’s swaying in his seat, let me know if he gives you any trouble.”

Emma walked back toward the door, surveying the tables as she walked past. She’d been working at The Wooden Nickle since moving back to Boston from New York almost seven years ago. Working nights as a bouncer wasn’t the most prestigious job in the world, but it allowed her to spend her days with her 6-year-old son, Henry.

“Everything good down here?”

Emma turned to see her boss; August Booth walking down the stairs from the above office. “Yeah, got a live one at the bar, Will’s already cut him off. I had to break up the two over at the pool table a few times.” She gestured to the man and woman currently making out against the wall. “I’m gonna head back there in a minute, before they start losing clothes.”

“I can always count on you, Emma.” August gave her a light tap on the shoulder and then headed back upstairs. “Tell everyone I want to talk to them before we shut down tonight.”

“Everything alright, boss?” He nodded with a mischievous smile and then bounded up the stairs.

She loved working for August. When she moved back to Boston, she hadn’t maintained a relationship with anyone except her brother, David, and her high school friends, Ruby and Will. Moving to a small town meant her skills as a bail bond agent wasn’t exactly needed, but August found room for her as a bouncer at his tiny but very busy bar. He’d treated her like family ever since.

She passed through the room, pausing at the couple in the back, to break up their make out session and then stopped at the bar. “Aug wants to talk to all of us after we close up.”

“Oi, did he seem upset? Shit, I bet he knows I was nipping at the whiskey last week.”

“What are we talking about?” Ruby approached and sat down her tray on the bar top. “Are we drinking whiskey?”

Emma laughed. “Aug wants to talk to all of us tonight, so I would probably say no, right?”

“That was a question, not a demand, so I say one shot can’t hurt us. If we’re all about to be canned, I want to take the news with some liquid courage.”

“You’ll use any excuse to drink whiskey.” Ruby mocked as he lined up the shots and poured. They each tossed back the glass and slammed it down on the bar.

“Ok get back to work.” She demanded with a smirk and headed back to the door to prepare for the close of shift. It was her favorite part of work, watching as the patrons exited the bar, some joyfully laughing, others grumbling with complaints of the upcoming next day, but mostly it was the time when they were alone, simply cleaning the bar and laughing together that she cherished the most. This was her family, and she loved them dearly.

“All clear.” She hollered an hour later as she finished helping the tipsy customer to a cab and reminded the overly zealous couple to remember condoms.

Ruby turned up the volume on the music and they spent the next hour cleaning the bar, Ruby dancing with her broomstick, Will singing loudly into the beer tap, and Emma watching them all with a smile as she wiped down the tables. She could hardly believe how much her life had changed in the last seven years. Ruby referred to these last few years as the years AN.

After Neal.

She had been devastated when Neal took off, draining their savings account of the money she had earned, leaving her alone and pregnant in New York City. Two months later, she came home with her tail between her legs, everything she owned in her tiny yellow beetle, and was left to explain to her brother David, that things with her and Neal had gone exactly how he had predicted they would.

She had been mortified to venture out of the home she shared with David for fear of judgement from their small town. Instead, she was embraced by old friends who came out of the woodwork to donate baby clothes, feed her, and offer emotional support.

“When did I start paying you lot to have a good time?” August boomed from across the room before breaking out into a smile and pulling Emma into his arms to dance across the room. He spun her around as they reached Ruby, switching to dance with the brunette until the song ended.

“The place looks great as usual.” He remarked to the three of them as he hopped onto one of the bar stools. “Come on, lets all chat.” Will gulped and August laughed. “This isn’t about the whiskey, Will.”

“What whiskey?” Will mimed. “I haven’t the foggiest idea…”

“I’m closing the bar.” Emma’s heart dropped. August sat solemnly looking down at his hands. He looked up peering around the room as a smile grew on his mouth. “For two weeks,” he added, “and before you all freak out on me, I’m still paying you.”

Emma breathed out a sigh of relief. Losing two weeks of pay would have killed her. She lived paycheck to paycheck trying to raise her son, missing a single day was enough to give her anxiety.

“On one condition.” He added and everyone in the group exchanged cautious glances. “We’ve all been working really hard and I wouldn’t have any of this if you all didn’t come to work every single day, even with William drinking my whiskey.” Will ducked his head. “However as much as I love you guys, I’m really tired of being alone.”

Emma was surprised to hear how sad August’s voice sounded; she knew he had been alone at home after his father Marco had passed. Emma had never heard of August going on any dates, or ever being involved with anyone romantically. But Emma wasn’t one to talk about putting yourself out there, she hadn’t dated or wanted to date anyone since Neal ran out on her.

“And let’s be honest,” August continued, “you lot don’t get out much either.”

“Hey, I’m just waiting until Ana comes around.” Will argued and she snorted to herself. Ana was Will’s ex-girlfriend. She had packed up and left town a year ago, leaving only a note stating it was over and she was moving to England with a guy she met online. Everyone knew it was over, except for Will. He still had his Facebook relationship status as “It’s complicated.”

“She’s gone man, it’s time to move on.” August said seriously. “And Ruby, I mean no offense when I say this, but you’ve practically dated everyone in town, present company excluded.”

“Speak for yourself, we went on a date once.” Will announced.

“That was a field trip you idiot, and the rest of the school was with us.”

“Ok but my point is, no one in town has been worthy of your affection.” August interrupted and then turned to her, “And Emma.”

“Don’t even go there, I have a six-year-old kid, I don’t have time for another child in my life.”

“Well, here it is, I’m going on a cruise for two weeks. And I’m willing to pay you each your two-week salary, as long as you come with me.”

“Oi, do you think you pay us enough money to afford to go on some fancy cruise ship?”

“Nope, that’s why I’m paying for that too.” He stared at Emma. “But it has to be all or nothing. Either you all come, or you all get a two-week unpaid vacation.”

“That’s hardly fair.” Emma complained. “I can’t just walk away for two weeks, Henry needs me.”

“First off, I already know that he’s about to head to summer camp for four weeks, so your excuse doesn’t exactly work.” Emma crossed her arms against her chest, she hadn’t expected him to know about that. “Ok, one excuse down, who’s next?”

“You aren’t going to get one from me. If you want to pay me to go on a cruise, I’m down.” Ruby hopped up on the bar.

“What’s the catch, Mate? Two weeks pay, a cruise vacation, something’s not adding up here.” Emma had to agree with Will, he wasn’t telling them the entire truth.

“Fine, it’s a singles cruise.”

“No way, I’m out.” Emma grunted, as she furiously wiped down the table in front of her for the second time that evening.

“Oh, come on Emma, who cares? There is nothing that says you have to hook up with anyone there.” Ruby pleaded, “I really want to try out my new bikini I bought last week. It would look so much better on a cruise ship than it would on our stupid beach.”

“I can’t go on a single’s cruise, I’m not single.” Will argued.

“She dumped you.” The three of them all shouted in unison.

“Come on you guys, we can all be there together, and just have fun.” Ruby continued to plead her case.

“Did I mention the alcohol is all paid for up front?” August announced with a wink.

“Bloody hell, I’m in.”

Suddenly all eyes were on here. “Please Emma.” Ruby whined.

“Free Alcohol, lass. We can just sit at the damn bar and drink all day. I’ll be your date.” Will flirted from the back of the bar.

“Brining a date would defeat the singles part, don’t you think?”

“Emma, you’re out of excuses.” August shrugged.

“Fine. But I have one condition.” She said angrily, coming up with a fool proof plan to get out of going. “If I’m going to be forced to go on this trip, then I’m not going without David.”

August laughed and surprisingly shook his head. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Dammit.

[gogglor]

Cap-Ironman RecWeek: Different Media Thursday

I’ve been looking forward to writing this installment of @cap-ironman rec week all week. There’s some phenomenally creative fanworks out there centered around these two goobers, and it is my absolute pleasure to bring them to your attention.

Best Fansite Ever!!

Creator: FestiveFerret

Word Count: 468 + a website

Summary: A blast from Tony's past gets him caught in a PR nightmare. 

Why You Should Check It Out:

Ferret’s another big name in the Stony community, and a pseudo fairy code parent who we can go to with our internet booboos. They’re also a kickass, prolific author in their own right, and an afternoon spent going through their fics would be an absolutely delightful afternoon.

Ferret busted out the coding skills with this fic, both in the email skin and, most importantly, in Tony Stark’s pseudo-geocities fanpage for Captain America which... Christ, there is no description of it that could do it justice. I don’t think I laughed so hard in ages. There’s a link in the fic, or you can click here to see for yourself. I’d say you won’t regret it, but for those of us old enough to remember those sites (and who maybe made one or two)... you might feel some sympathy cringe for Tony on this one.

The Stark Guide(tm) to Mission Reports

Creators: coffeesuperhero and sabinelagrand

Word Count: 1025 (kinda)

Summary: With annotations by Clint Barton, and further annotations by Phil Coulson, and questions from Thor Odinson, for whom this was all written in the first place.

Why You Should Check It Out:

This one just baaaarely qualifies as Stony but honestly, it’s so good I don’t even care (and it’s tagged with Stony, so it counts). I can’t comment on the authors as I haven’t checked them out individually, but if their stuff is half as funny as this they’re worth a look.

Thor needs help writing mission reports. Tony has written a handy guide to help him out. Clint, Coulson and Thor all have notes (and Tony has responses). The result is a fic in the format of a memo covered with everyone’s scribbles. This is another one for the “Wow, I didn’t know I could laugh so hard I would pull a muscle” file - the jokes all land beautifully, the mental images are sublime, the implied backstory is hysterical. If you’re looking for something short and sweet and flipping hilarious to read, I can’t recommend this one highly enough.

And on the third day of ficrecs, we’re finally getting to some self-recs. Am I biased on these? Absolutely. But I wouldn’t rec them if there weren’t a lot of other people independently confirming they’re good fics, Bront.

An Avengers Powerpoint Party

Creator: gogglor

Word Count: 4,769 (kinda)

Summary: The Avengers threw a Powerpoint Party. These are their slides.

Why You Should Check It Out:

Some time ago there was a TikTok going around where someone imagined what the Avengers would present at a Powerpoint Party (here’s what that is, for the unfamiliar) and I couldn’t resist putting my own spin on the idea.

Team bonding fics are a huge weakness of mine, and I had a lot of fun writing the team letting their hair down and getting silly with each other, in the format of Powerpoint slides they prepared for each other. Here’s the first slide of the first chapter:

Need I say more?

Caught Up In Our Stories

Creator: gogglor

Word Count: 40,689 (kinda)

CW: Brief mention of past parental abuse.

Summary: Someone's cast a spell on Avengers Tower that has changed each floor into a different kind of story, and trapped the Avengers inside. Steve mounts a rescue mission, starting with Tony Stark, PI, a noir detective who's got a thing for blonde bombshells who bring trouble to his door.

Why You Should Check It Out:

This here was my pandemic magnum opus. I got the idea to trap the Avengers in as many story-telling mediums as I could and just sorta... got borderline carried away with it. I’ll probably never attempt anything that was this much work again, but I’m glad I’ve got something to show for all that time spent inside, and very pleased with the way it turned out.

I’d describe the story of CUIOS as our favorite two dingdongs figuring out they like each other, woven into some good old-fashioned team bonding while facing the consequences of past choices. I’d describe the medium of CUIOS as a ludicrously complex kitchen sink lovingly assembled by someone with way too much time on their hands. If you want to be surprised at the mediums I use, stop reading here, and don’t read past the first few story tags on AO3.

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Here’s a taste of some of the contents that don’t spoil the story, just some of the mediums. In this work you’ll also find, among other things, a choose your own adventure game, a Western movie script, a crayon drawing, a comment section flame war, and a robust debate on which anthropomorphized floor of Avengers tower would be best in the sack. What’s not to love?

Just be glad my sister talked me out of making paper bag puppets too.

That’s it for today! Tomorrow is Laugh-Out-Loud Friday and considering I am pretty much always on the look out for fics that make me laugh, I’ve got some really great recs waiting in the wings for y’all.

[here4theheartbreak]

Silent Night, Scales & Fights

✩ AO3 Link Here!

✩ Relationships: jinmin (Jimin x Jin)

✩ Genre/Universe: smut, angst

✩ Rating: Explicit

✩ Tags: smut, angst, child abuse, physical abuse, assault, homophobia, violence, blood, implied minor character death, family drama, spousal abuse, Naga!Jin, tentacle monster!Jin, soulmate au, double penetration, belly bulge, come inflation, toys, subdrop, subspace, blood, tentacles,bottom!Jimin, top!Jin, bottom Jimin

✩ Summary: Jimin decides that Christmas is the perfect time for his family to meet his soulmate. The only problem? His abusive father.

✩ Word Count: ~10.2k

✩ A/N: IThis fic fills the square Pumpkin Pie for @btsholidaybingo​. This fic is a sequel to Shared Souls & Snake Scales, published earlier in 2020. You may want to read that one first; there are some small things that are important to know in that one.

“We really don’t need to do this,” Jimin said for the fifth time as they drove along the snow dusted street. 

“You’re my soulmate, Minie,” Jin said patiently. He reached over and set his hand on Jimin’s thigh. “I want to do this. I want to know your family.”

Jimin shifted in the seat, sighing. He and Jin had been together for nearly a year, and Jimin had done his best to keep Jin away from his family. Not that he was ashamed of Jin – on the contrary, they were soulmates, and Jin’s magical nature was easily hidden. 

“I haven’t been entirely honest with you about them, Jin.”

“Do they not know you’re gay?”

“They know, unfortunately,” Jimin said. “My mom’s not too bad. She tries to be supportive. But my dad…”

“He doesn’t approve. Will me being there cause problems? I can stay back.”

“No, I think you not showing up would cause more problems,” Jimin admitted. “I already prepared them, told them I found my soulmate, that you were a boy.”

“Will they ask to see your tattoo?”

“Maybe. We’ll just go with the same story we tell everyone else, you’re weird and love sea creatures of a tentacled variety.”

“They are cute,” Jin defended. Jimin laughed, glancing over at him. 

“They are.”

“You still seem tense. Tell me about your father.”

“It’s not a pleasant history,” Jimin said. From the corner of his eye he saw Jin shift, the smile drooping off his handsome face. 

“Did he hurt you, Jimin?”

Jimin bit the inside of his lip. “He didn’t like that I like boys. Doesn’t – But he doesn’t try to change me anymore.”

“Change you?”

Jimin looked over at a stoplight. “Physically.”

“Jimin, he didn’t—Touch you—”

“No, no—Not like that,” Jimin corrected. “He was pretty good friends with a belt back then. And the Bible. Those things hurt when they’re hurled at your head,” Jimin chuckled. “A lot of verbal damage. It wasn’t a pleasant time at home for a while after I came out.”

“How long did it last?” Jin’s voice was soft. 

“I realized I liked boys when I was about fourteen… I came out right away because I was scared and confused and didn’t know if I was broken. My dad pretty much confirmed I was.”

“You’re not broken, Minie.” Jin reached over and set his hand on Jimin’s on the wheel. “You aren’t.”

“I know that now. I’ve had years to reason with myself and get used to it. My dad… He doesn’t do that anymore.”

“So he’s accepted it?” “I wouldn’t go that far. But I don’t get books thrown at my head, so…” Jimin shrugged. “I’m telling you this because I know things might be tense at the table, especially if Dad starts asking you things or coming at you. I want you to know where he’s coming from, so you don’t feel badly. He’s just not a friend of… Our kind of people.” 

“I won’t let him hurt you again, Jimin. I swear on my life that I won’t,” Jin said with enough sharpness that Jimin looked over, surprised to see a shimmer of his scales across his nose.

“Breathe,” Jimin said quickly. 

They’d learned over the months together that – while Jin could usually easily hide his true form, strong emotions – especially those related to the monster in him like anger and fear – tended to bring it out, like a slipping mask. Jimin could usually calm him, thankfully, but it was a concern.

Jin took a deep breath, his face returning to normal. He nodded and closed his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Jimin parked and leaned over, pulling Jin into a deep kiss. “I’m so happy to have someone that loves me enough to get angry for me. I love you.”

“I love you, Jimin,” Jin whispered against his lips. He got out of the car and Jimin followed, stopping at the trunk to grab the gifts they’d brought for Jimin’s family. 

They stood at the doorstep for a moment.

“You ready?” Jimin asked.

“I should be asking you that.”

“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Then I am too. Just…” Jin closed the gap between them and pressed a deep kiss to Jimin’s mouth, cupping his cheek as he did. 

The door creaked open suddenly, and Jimin jumped back gasping. He smiled sheepishly at his father, who stood in the doorway, large and imposing. 

“Get inside before the neighbors see that,” he hissed, grabbing Jimin’s shoulder and yanking him in. 

Jin followed close after, his mouth set in a fine line. 

“Sorry, Dad,” Jimin whispered. He bowed to his father politely. “Uh… This is my soulmate, Kim Seokjin. Jin, this is my father, Park Sungmin.” 

Jin bowed politely, offering a broad smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

Sungmin’s eyes narrowed. He looked Jin up and down. He grunted softly and turned, walking into the sitting room. Jimin looked down, embarrassment coloring his cheeks a bright pink. Jin touched his neck, thumb soothing over the soulmate tattoo hidden by his turtleneck. 

“Are you okay?” He whispered.

“Yeah,” Jimin looked up, offering a smile he hoped was convincing. “Come on, my mother is probably in the kitchen.” He grabbed Jin’s hand and led him through the sitting room, not missing the glare his father gave at their connected hands. 

“Mom?” Jimin said when he was in the doorway of the kitchen. The food smelled delightful, and his mother was hard at work in the kitchen with his grandmother. She turned when he said her name, grinning. “Jiminie,” she cooed, rushing up and giving him a hug. Jimin’s smile faded as she approached. He hugged back tightly, then pushed her back gently, touching her cheek lightly. Even in the soft lighting, he could see a dark bruise over her cheekbone, covered as well as she could with makeup. She winced. 

“Mom… How did this happen?”

“You know how clumsy I am. Is it not covered well, I can fix it in a moment. How have you been?”

Jimin pouted a little. She was lying, and he knew it, but causing a fuss would do no good. “I’ve been good. Getting good grades, being social, just like you want. Mom, this is my soulmate. This is Kim Seokjin.” He stepped aside, allowing Jin to step forward. “This is my mother, Park Jiwoong.” 

He tilted his head a little at her before offering a huge smile and bowing low. 

“I’m honored to meet you, ma’am. I see now where Minie got his beautiful features.” 

Jimin smiled shyly. Jiwoong laughed a little. 

“Flattery will get you nowhere in this house, Kim Seokjin… Except maybe here.” She reached over and grabbed a small piece of dessert bread, passing it to Jin. He grinned broadly, taking it with both hands. 

“Thank you, I’m honored to be accepted into your home this holiday season.”

“Well, any friend of Jimin’s is welcome here… Especially a soulmate. I hope you’ll forgive me, I’ve had a long time to accept Jimin’s… Nature. But it is a bit startling, seeing the person he’ll be with forever.”

“That I’m a man?” Jin asked softly. She nodded. Jin nodded as well. “In our culture, our world, I can understand the difficulty. But Jimin and I share a soul, he’s a part of me. Regardless of our sex or gender – I would never let anyone hurt him. I support him and honor him in the same way that a girlfriend or wife would, and I am wholly devoted to him and his happiness. I hope that someday you’ll grow to see me easily as his partner.”

Jiwoong smiled gently, reaching out and touching Jin’s wrist. “Your honesty is refreshing. You seem like a very good man, especially for my Jiminie. If you’ll excuse me, I have to go touch up my makeup.” She slid past the two and disappeared down the hallway. 

“This the boyfriend?” Jimin’s grandmother croaked. He grinned and rushed up to hug her. 

“It is. How have you been, gramma? How’s your arthritis?”

“I’m fit as a fiddle and don’t you forget it.” She poked Jimin’s nose gently with her forefinger before looking at Jin. “That was a fine speech you gave my daughter, boy. I hope it’s true. Minie is my only grandchild and I don’t care that you’re strapping and young, I’ll still bend you over my knee and whoop you if I hear you made my boy cry.”

Jin’s smile was blinding. He laughed and nodded. “I expect nothing less, ma’am.”

Jimin smiled softly. He reached around his grandmother, grabbing a slice of fruit. She smacked his knuckles lightly with her spoon. 

“You wait until dinner.”

Jimin pouted. “I’ve been waiting all day, Gramma. Your cooking is the best part of the holidays.”

She smiled and shook her head. “You’re insufferable, boy.”

“I know.” Jimin popped the slice of melon in his mouth. His smile faded as he chewed. “Gramma… Mom—Is Dad…”

She frowned and nodded. “You know he is.”

“Did it pick up again? Has he been drinking?”

She shook her head. “No more than usual. I think the news…” She glanced over at Jin. “Well… He’s not been too happy. Your Mom loves you. She supports you.”

Jimin nodded, his heart sinking. “Thank you, Gramma. Can we help in the kitchen? Jin’s a great cook.”

“Thank you, but no. You boys go relax. Show him the house. No frisky business before dinner.” She shook her finger playfully and Jimin laughed. 

“Never.” He turned to Jin. “Come on, I’ll show you where I grew up. Make sure there’s no monsters in my closet,” he joked. Jin grinned at that.

“Oh, just one second,” Jimin held up a finger and headed down the hall into the sitting room. He put the gifts they’d brought under the small tree with a pile of others, glancing at his father. 

“Yes?” He asked when he saw him staring. 

“Nothing.”

“Yes, there is, I know that look.” Jimin rose and looked directly at him. “Say what you need to say.”

“Don’t be snappy with me, Jimin.”

“I’m not. I’m being direct. You’ve been glaring since we arrived. Am I not welcome here?”

“You are.” Sungmin turned and looked back to the television. 

“Is Jin welcome here?”

“He’s not my family.”

“He’s my soulmate. My partner. The man I’m going to spend the rest of my life with.”

Sungmin snorted. He sipped his beer. “Unnatural.”

“We have a mark,” Jimin pressed. “It’s not unnatural. It’s our souls.”

“That’s all bullshit anyway.”

“Not for me, Dad. Seokjin treats me right. He loves me. Isn’t that what should matter to you?”

“No, what matters to me is the shame you bring the family being a faggot.”

Jimin closed his eyes, sighing. “Well you don’t need to take it out on Mom. It’s not her fault.”

“Well it’s not mine!”

“It’s nobody’s fault, Dad. It’s just how I am. So if you have to take it out on someone it should be me, not her.”

“She’s my wife,” Sungmin growled.

“That doesn’t mean she deserves your abuse.”

Sungmin rose, stepping up to Jimin. He was tall enough that Jimin had to look up a little at him, something he’d always hated. 

“Don’t you dare.”

Jimin set his jaw. “Get out of my face, please.”

“Or what? You’ll sic your dirty soulmate on me?” He snarled. 

“Jin isn’t a part of this. Dad, please. It’s Christmas. Don’t do this.”

“You’re the one that brought this on. We’d be fine if you weren’t a freak.”

Jimin lowered his gaze, nodding. “I know. That’s why I’m asking you to please… If you have to hurt someone, do it to me, not Mom.”

The strike wasn’t entirely unexpected, but still stung. It was open handed, leaving a burn on Jimin’s cheek as his head snapped to the side. Involuntary tears welled in his eyes. “I’m going to walk away now,” Jimin whispered.

“I wish you’d walk off a cliff. You brought so much horror to this family,” Sungmin snarled.

“I know, Dad.” Jimin bowed and slipped past his father, hurrying back toward the kitchen. 

Jin was leaning on the counter, laughing with Jimin’s grandmother when he entered. Jimin’s mood immediately lifted, seeing the two get along so well. Jin glanced over, and his smile dropped immediately. He rushed up to Jimin and tilted his chin up, examining where Jimin was struck, likely a vibrant red if the warmth in that spot was any indicator. Jin’s eyes glinted a dangerous purple, his lips peeling back.

“No,” Jimin whispered. 

“He hit you didn’t he?” Jin hissed. Jimin nodded. 

“It was my fault. I got in his face. Told him to stop hitting Mom. I’m okay.”

“You aren’t,” came a soft voice behind him. Jiwoong entered and hugged Jimin gently. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“He hit you.”

“He has for a while, baby. It just increased a little after…” She glanced at Jin and shrugged, looking back at Jimin. “I have a secret, okay? I was going to wait until after the holidays to tell you… I’m getting a divorce and moving back to Busan. I know it’ll be farther from you, and I’m sorry for that, but I need to leave. I need to leave so you and I can both be safe.”

“Are you sure, Mom?”

She nodded. “I haven’t loved him for a long time. The only good he ever did was giving me you.” She stroked Jimin’s cheek. “Promise not to say anything?”

“Never. If you need anything – a place to stay or anything, please tell me. Jin and I will do whatever we can.”

Jin nodded. “Of course. You and your mother,” he motioned to Jimin’s grandmother. “You both have our full support.”

Jiwoong smiled and squeezed Jin’s shoulder. “You seem like a good boy for Jimin. Make sure he doesn’t do silly things like this anymore.” She brushed the red mark on Jimin’s cheek.

“I’ll do my best.” 

She pressed a kiss to Jimin’s forehead. “Now, go relax before dinner, okay? It’ll be done soon. Are you two staying over?”

“We’d planned to, as long as we’re welcome.”

“We have a spare room set up for you, Jin. I know you likely sleep together but with his father…”

“No, I entirely understand,” Jin said, nodding. “One night apart won’t be total agony.” He brushed Jimin’s hair back, and Jimin grinned, that all too familiar tingling flutter starting from his soulmate mark and rippling down his spine.  

“Come on, let me show you around,” Jimin said, taking Jin’s hand tightly. He pulled him out of the room and down the hall, moving fast past the sitting room and up the stairs. 

Once at the top, he slowed down. “Here’s my room,” he said, pushing at a half closed door. It was the same way it had been when he still lived there, decorated with musical stars and dancers, painted a soft blue and purple. The bed was large and comfy, and Jimin knew his mother likely had just washed and fluffed the pillows. He pulled Jin in and shut the door, kissing him hard.

Jin gasped, pulling back. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I don’t know,” Jimin admitted. “I just… Need you.”

“You heard your gramma, no funny stuff before dinner,” Jin teased, thumbing Jimin’s nose playfully. Jimin laughed. 

“Of course not. Just… Kiss me until I—” Jimin smiled. “Just hold me.”

Jin shut the door and wrapped his arms tightly around Jimin. Jimin’s eyes slipped shut. By now, he could almost sense the change as if it were his own body, the quiet shift and creak of Jin’s bones, the raspy, whispering rustle as his scales shifted into place, the feeling of both cool and warm as Jin’s torso wrapped completely around Jimin, encasing him in the smooth oil slick of his snake form. Jimin let himself relax into the coil, listening to Jin’s strong heartbeat. Jin coiled as tight as he dared to, a safety blanket for Jimin when he was having a rough day.

He looked up at Jin, smiling softly. “Thank you.” 

“Baby,” Jin cooed. One of his tentacles darted out, sliding over Jimin’s cheekbone like the caress of a lover. Jimin giggled a little, reaching up and grabbing it. He squeezed gently, letting the suckers move up his arm and around him, a third appendage to hold him in a hug. 

“Why did you confront him, Minie?” Jin asked softly.

“He’s hitting Mom. I can’t let that slide.”

“And him hitting you is better?”

“Than my Mom? Yeah.”

“No. Both are wrong. Neither of you deserve it.”

“I know. But she’s getting away from him and I—I have you now.”

“I’ll always keep you safe, Jimin. No matter what needs to be done.”

“I know.” Jimin kissed Jin’s mouth gently. He let himself relax further, resting his head on the uppermost coil of Jin’s tail. His legs sagged, knowing Jin would easily hold him up. 

The two stayed like that for quite some time, until the turmoil of emotions in Jimin’s mind soothed. Jin remained there completely, kissing over his cheek and neck and shoulder, hands and tentacles touching everywhere they could reach in an effort to soothe Jimin in every way possible. 

“I’m okay,” Jimin finally whispered.

“I know you are.”

“You can change back.”

Jin nodded. He shifted once more, scooping Jimin back into his arms when his feet were under him. He kissed him again. “I love you, Minie.”

“I love you too, Jin. Come on, I’ll show you the rest of the house.”

Jin nodded. Jimin opened the door, gasping when he saw his father almost directly next to it. Jin immediately stepped up, ready to move between them if he needed to.

“Why was this door shut?”

“No reason,” Jimin said simply. “I was showing him the posters on the back of it. Mom hasn’t taken them down after all these years.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Well, it’s the truth. That and we hugged. Nothing funny. Gramma said not to, so I won’t.”

“Oh, she did, huh? You’ll respect her but not the one that owns this house? The one that raised you? I—” Jimin saw his hand forming a fist.

“We’re going now. I want to show Jin the rest of the house.”

“I’m not finished talking to you.”

“Nothing happened, Dad. And nothing will. Please.”

His father glared daggers at him, saying nothing. After a pregnant pause, he stepped out of the way, allowing Jimin and Jin to pass.

Jimin took Jin through the rest of the house, showing him different areas and telling stories of being a child. Every chance they got, Jimin touched, hugged, or kissed Jin as a silent, simple protest against his father. He was so tired of it - of the abuse, of the fear. It was only tolerable this day because he knew his mom was leaving the monster; and because he had Jin to keep him grounded. 

They were going through some of Jimin’s old yearbooks up in the attic when his mother called them for dinner. They hurried down, taking their seats side by side at the table. Jimin could feel his father glaring at the both of them. 

Jimin rose, helping his mother finish bringing out the food before sitting back down. He heard his father scoff, but ignored it, instead opting to direct his dinner conversation toward his mother; what she’d been doing over the past month, how some of her friends were, etcetera. 

It was about halfway through dinner when Sungmin set his utensils down with a clank. “I can’t. Who are you? What makes you think you’re welcome at this table?” His tone was sharp; gaze on Jin. 

Jin swallowed the bite he’d been chewing and politely wiped his mouth before setting his own utensils down. He laced his fingers together over his plate and offered a smile that – on the front of it – looked quite polite. Jimin could easily see through it though; Jin was seething.

“You seem to have questions about me. Or perhaps about my relationship with your son. I understand this is new and uncomfortable. But I welcome you with nothing but openness to ask what you need to ask so that you can be more comfortable with my presence.”

Sungmin glared. “Don’t you take that condescending tone with me, faggot.”

Jin blinked, clearly surprised by the slur.

“Sungmin—” Jiwoong whispered.

“No! I don’t understand how you can sit there like this is normal. Like we don’t have freaks at our table.”

“You have your son and his soulmate at the table, Sungmin,” Jimin’s grandmother said. “You recognize the importance of sharing a soul, don’t you?”

“Yeah, right, sure. How do we even know they’re really soulmates?” His tone was mocking, sending a pang of pain through Jimin’s heart. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it was a lie. Isn’t there some bullshit about tattoos appearing? I see no tattoos.”

“It’s on our backs,” Jimin whispered. 

“Likely story.”

Jin cleared his throat. He looked to Jiwoong. “I apologize for asking, but would it be alright if I showed….”

“Yes, of course,” she said. 

Jin rose and turned to face the wall, his back to Sungmin. He unbuttoned his shirt halfway, letting it fall from his shoulders just enough to expose his upper back, and the beautiful tattoo imprinted along it. He remained still for a few moments before pulling his shirt back up and rebuttoning it. 

“It’s so pretty,” Jiwoong said. “Yours matches, Minie?” 

“Yep, it’s the opposite but the same.” Jimin rose and repeated Jin’s actions, turning away from the table and lifting his sweater up until his tattoo was visible. 

“Are those tentacles?” Jiwoong asked.

“Mhm, Jin loves sea creatures.” Jimin smiled proudly as he dropped his sweater and turned back around. He sat down and looked at his father. “We have our marks. It’s not a lie. It’s meant to be, simple as that.”

“It’s disturbing. Mark or not. It’s unnatural.”

“Now is not the time, Sungmin,” Jiwoong said firmly. 

“You don’t tell me if it is the time or not. This is my house and my table.”

Jimin’s heart sank. He shook his head and rose. “This was a mistake.”

“Jimin,” Jiwoong whispered. 

“We shouldn’t have come. We can go.”

“No, you shouldn’t go,” Jiwoong said, glaring when Sungmin huffed. “You’re my son, and you found your soulmate. I’m honored to have you both at my table.” She rose and scooped Jimin into a hug. “Don’t go.”

“Mom… I don’t want to cause trouble for you.”

“Oh, quit bellyaching like this is some horrible house,” Sungmin growled. “Sit your ungrateful ass down and eat the dinner your mother and grandmother have been slaving away to prepare.”

Jimin looked at his mom, who smiled softly and nodded. He took a seat again. Jin reached over under the table, catching his hand and squeezing it firmly, a warm comfort to Jimin. He relaxed a little at Jin’s touch and picked his drink up, sipping it. 

The tension at the table was thick and heavy. Despite his insistence on Jimin and Jin remaining, Sungmin continued to glower at them silently throughout dinner. Jiwoong and Jimin’s grandmother did their best to lighten things, asking about Jin’s life and how the two met.  

Dinner shifted into dessert, and Sungmin rose from the table without any, citing being sick to his stomach. Jimin knew the reality behind that phrase; the sickness was likely nothing to do with the food and everything to do with him, but tried not to let it bother him. Instead he focused on the people that truly cared about him. 

“Well, one less plate to wash after dessert then,” Jimin’s grandmother said. She clapped her hands together. “Jin, you help me get desserts.” 

Jin nodded eagerly. He rose and leaned over, pressing a kiss to Jimin’s cheek before heading into the kitchen. 

Jiwoong reached over the table and grabbed Jimin’s hand. “I really like him, Jimin.”

Tears welled in Jimin’s eyes. “Really?” He whispered.

She frowned a little. “Why are you crying, baby?”

Jimin laughed a little, coughing back his tears. “This past year with Jin’s been the happiest of my life so far. I wanted nothing more than to share it with you guys. But I was so afraid. I knew Dad and… I knew it was weird for you. I don’t know that you can realize how much that means to me. You just liking him.”

Jiwoong smiled softly. “Come here.” Jimin rose and sank to his knees next to her chair, wrapping his arms around her middle. He buried his face in her stomach, letting himself cry softly as she embraced him, soothing his hair back. 

“He’s a part of you, Minie. And it shows. I wondered if soulmates were real, not finding mine – It seems like such a fairy tale. Seeing my son not only find his… But seeing just how beautiful the connection is, how perfect you two fit together… It gives me hope for so much. He’s a good man, Jimin. He loves you and he’s kind and he’s so well spoken. He’s your perfect match. Don’t think I didn’t see the way he was able to soothe your temper. The way just a touch relaxed you or made you smile. I love him too, Jimin. Just one day – and I can say with confidence that I love him and he will always be a part of this family.”

“Thank you,” Jimin whispered, hugging her a little tighter. He pulled back and looked up, laughing a little when she dabbed away his tears with a napkin like she did when he was a child. “Thank you,” he said again.

“Go sit back down now, Jin’s going to panic if you’re weeping when he returns.”

Jimin laughed a little and nodded, rising and heading back to his seat. 

Jin and his grandmother returned carrying the desserts, and Jimin hurried to clear off the dinner foods so they could set them down. Jin didn’t miss the moment to steal a kiss from Jimin as he set the pie near to his plate, offering a gentle smile. 

“Your eyes are red.” 

“Nothing bad,” Jimin promised. Jin nodded and settled back into his seat. 

“Do you think we should open gifts tonight or tomorrow?” Jiwoong asked as she dished up desserts for Jimin and Jin. 

“Let the kids open one tonight,” Jimin’s grandmother said. She tsked when Jin shook his head no to a slice of pumpkin pie, and Jin only smiled. “I’m quite full from your dinner, I’m okay, I’ll have some of the pudding though,” he conceded.

“We’re okay waiting until tomorrow too,” Jimin offered, taking his plate. “Dad might be in a better mood…”

“Oh, screw him,” Jiwoong said simply. Jimin’s eyes widened of their own volition. His mother – though not entirely timid – was rarely so blunt. “We’ll have dessert then go sit by the tree. You kids can open a gift or two and then we’ll do our gifts in the morning.”

Jimin laughed a little. “We’re in our twenties, Mom. We aren’t exactly excited kids.”

“Speak for yourself,” Jin said, swallowing a spoonful of the sweet chocolate dessert on his plate. “I’m ecstatic about Christmas. It’s such an interesting holiday.”

“Did your family not celebrate?” Jimin’s grandmother asked. Jin shook his head no.

“They were quite conservative and traditional. We didn’t do any sort of Christian celebrations.”

“Buddhist?” Jiwoong assumed. Jin confirmed. “I don’t have a specific religion now, but it was the way I was raised.”

“We’re not too strict here. No religious services. But the giving is nice and we love excuses to see family,” Jiwoong said. “Are you sure you won’t have pie? Surely you’re still hungry.”

Jin shook his head. “I’m okay, I promise. This dinner was delightful.”

“Glad you enjoyed it. I’m sorry for my husband…”

“Don’t be. You can’t control him, and you’re not at fault for his bad behavior. Jimin warned me that he likely wouldn’t be very welcoming. It’s okay.”

“You’re an understanding young man, Jin. What is it you’re doing? Are you going to school with Minie?”

“No. Right now I’m studying to become a chef. I love cooking. So I toil away at home with piles of food while poor Jimin studies his brain to mush.” Jin teased, and Jimin beamed.

“I get to eat all that good food after I get home from school. He’s making me gain weight,” he pouted.

“Good, about time you put on a few pounds,” Jimin’s grandmother scolded without much venom. “Finish your pie.”

“Yes, Gramma.”

“Are you and Jimin living together then?” Jiwoong asked.

“Yes. We moved in together pretty quickly after we met and the soulmate marks appeared. It felt like the right thing to do.”

“And you said you were living next to him?”

Jin nodded. “Yes, very close neighbors. We brushed hands one evening in the hallway and later that week discovered we’d both ended up with marks. Everything after that was a whirlwind.” Jin smiled fondly at Jimin and reached out, swiping a bit of whip cream from the corner of his mouth. 

“It’s a fairytale,” Jiwoong said. “And your friends, Minie?”

“Hobi and Tae love him. Tae was concerned for a bit, especially since he’s a bit older than me, but he grew on them.”

“Tae is a good boy. He needs to come with you to visit more often.”

“I’ll tell him you said so. I think Hoseok is going to propose to him soon honestly.”

“Oh that’s lovely. What about you, Jin? You going to propose to Jimin soon?” Jiwoong teased. Jimin groaned, his cheeks pinking up, but Jin grinned. 

“Someday.” He said simply. 

As the dessert moved forward, tensions lifted more and more. Jimin found himself laughing freely, and the conversation between the four moved along with no awkward pauses. He and Jin helped his mother and grandmother clean up, packaging up the food and portioning some into leftovers that they insisted the boys bring home. The four settled into the living room and Jimin got a fire started in the fireplace. 

Jin settled as close as he could to the warmth of the fire; even in human form the cold-blooded nature of his snake side made him seek warmth in any way. Jimin snuggled next to him, relieved that his Mother and grandmother barely blinked at the two’s intimate position. It felt natural and safe. It was just nice. 

Jiwoong poured them all a small glass of bourbon, insisting on it as she put on some soft music. They chatted once more, laughing as the alcohol warmed their insides just as much as the fire warmed their outsides. 

Jimin’s grandmother insisted they open a few of the gifts under the tree, pressing some boxes into their hands. They each received lovely scarves and nice sweaters, and Jimin was gifted a beautiful set of silver rings. Jin received a set of handmade soaps and other high-end self-care items, which he was almost comically excited about. 

As things wound down, and Jimin stifled more than a few yawns behind his hand, the four exchanged hugs and went their separate ways to sleep. Jin held Jimin for a few minutes outside of his door, and Jimin was grateful. Though things calmed down quickly after Sungmin had stormed off, there was still a weight on Jimin’s chest. Anxieties about the impending divorce, about even the next morning when his father would surely be back to his impossible ways, about spending a night without Jin – something he’d not done since they found each other. Jin departed only after kissing him long and hard, firmly enough that Jimin’s mouth ached after he left. He entered his childhood bedroom, changing into a pair of pajama pants and no shirt before curling up in the bed to try and seek some sleep. 

And it almost worked, until his door creaked open just an hour or two after he laid down. Jimin rolled over, smiling a little, expecting Jin. “Couldn’t sleep without me?” He asked, opening his eyes. 

The door shut and the light flicked on. Jimin’s father stood in front of the door. His eyes were bloodshot and Jimin could smell the alcohol seeping from his pores. 

“Dad—” Jimin sat up, his heart skipping a few beats. This was bad. “What are you doing?”

“You ruined my life,” Sungmin growled. Jimin rose from the bed, circling around it with his hands up.

“Dad, please – You’re drunk. Can we talk about this in the morning?”

“You ruined everything!” Sungmin repeated. He stepped forward, a staggered movement. 

Panic bubbled up in Jimin’s throat. He wanted to scream, or run. But screaming would do no good – and running wasn’t an option; his father was blocking his only safe exit.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” Jimin tried. Perhaps submission was the way to go. 

“You aren’t. You will be.”

“Please, Dad, I didn’t mean to make things hard. I’m sorry.”

Sungmin staggered toward Jimin once more. His hands went to his belt, the click of metal as he unhooked the belt as loud as a gunshot to Jimin’s panicked mind. His breath caught against the lump of bile rising in his throat. 

“Don’t do this. Please, I’m too old for you to beat on like this. I’m only here one night, then I’m gone, you don’t need to do this,” Jimin tried once more. It was a desperate final attempt. 

“You never learned your lesson, Jimin. I tried to teach you,” Sungmin said. He stepped forward again, forcing Jimin to take a step back. Jimin swallowed hard. He tried to dart around Sungmin, but Sungmin was too fast. His arm shot out and he grabbed Jimin’s throat, slamming him back. His feet tangled and he cried out as he went down, the hard wood stinging his tailbone. He scrambled to his feet, only to be met with a hard, open palmed strike against his cheek. 

“Please,” he whispered.

“I’m going to teach you again,” Sungmin growled. He yanked his belt out of the loops, the snap of leather bringing unpleasant goosebumps to Jimin’s skin. 

“Stop, please, Dad!” Jimin cried out. Sungmin slapped him again, snapping his head to the side. He tasted blood from his tongue, accidentally biting it on the strike. The next hit came without warning, a closed, meaty fist impacting Jimin’s jaw. He shouted, stumbling back as his vision greyed dangerously.

“Dad—”

The belt struck him like a whip. It hit his arm first, the end whipping around to strike his bare back. It began to sting instantly and Jimin whimpered. 

“Stop—” His plea fell on deaf ears as another blow landed, this one lower on his back. Sungmin lumbered forward and grabbed his arm, twisting and shoving him hard. 

Jimin stumbled and went down on his knees, crying out when Sungmin struck him once more with the belt three times in rapid succession. He heard the clink of the buckle and took the chance to flip over onto his ass, scrambling back as quickly as he could. His father had flipped the belt, the heavy, sharp edged buckle glinting as he wrapped the other end around his fist. His eyes were large and wild. 

“I’m going to make sure you never wreck things again,” he snarled. He raised it up and Jimin covered his face, bracing for the pain and inevitable blood. 

It never came. 

Instead, Sungmin shouted and Jimin heard a deadly hiss. His eyes snapped open.

Jin was in the doorway, his snake form fully on display. Sungmin’s arm was raised, held up by one of Jin’s thick tentacles, the belt dangling limply from his fist as the tentacle squeezed his wrist. 

Another tentacle shot out, wrapping around Sungmin’s throat and slamming him against the wall hard enough to shake it. 

“How dare you strike him.” Jin said, his voice cold and dry, a rasp that he took on only in his snake form. 

Sungmin struggled to breathe, his free hand clawing at Jin’s tentacles. 

“What—What are you?” He choked out.

“Your worst fucking nightmare.” Jin squeezed tighter. He yanked Sungmin forward and coiled around him, teeth bared as Sungmin struggled helplessly. Jimin heard the sickening crack of some of his less thick bones – likely ribs. 

“Let me go you freak,” Sungmin rasped.

“I’m going to rip your fucking throat out,” Jin snarled. “What gives you the right to hurt him?”

“He’s my son—” His defense was cut off when Jin’s grip tightened both on his throat and his body.

“He is not. You’re less than human,” Jin spat. Sungmin struck out with his free arm, clawing Jin’s face. 

He hissed, the rest of his tentacles shooting out and grabbing the struggling man. Jin’s torso shot forward and Sungmin screamed, only to be muffled as a tentacle wrapped around his head like a gag. 

Jimin struggled to wipe his tears and focus on the fight in front of him, but all he could see were tentacles and scales. 

A wet rip echoed though the room, like a strip of raw steak shredding. His father seemed to gag and gargle. A tentacle shot out, throwing the door to Jimin’s closet opened. The familiar portal opened, and this time Jimin could see through it. Whatever place was on the other side looked like a nightmare. He could see creatures with large, leathery wings, a deserted, reddish landscape, smoke and dust obscuring the portal every few seconds. Jin released Sungmin from his tail, holding him up with his tentacles. Jimin could see bright red blood dripping down his shirt, staining it a sickening crimson. The tentacles arched back, holding Sungmin’s struggling form as if it were nothing, and threw. 

Jimin watched his father get swallowed up by the portal seconds before it closed. 

Jin turned to him, and panic bubbled up in Jimin’s throat. He sobbed brokenly, scrambling backwards. Jin’s eyes were nearly entirely black, blood staining his face and chest. 

“Jimin— Fuck—” Jin shifted back into his human form quickly and sank to his knees, bowing low until his forehead touched the ground. “I’m so sorry, Jimin – Please don’t cry.”

“Don’t hurt me—” Jimin whispered.

“No!” Jin cried, looking up at him. “Never, Jimin, please – I’m sorry.” Jin looked close to tears himself, desperation coloring his voice. “He was hurting you—”

Jimin nodded, still shaking visibly. “He was going to kill me.”

“I heard you scream, I—I lost control.”

 “Jin—The blood—”

“You— You bit him…”

“I—” Jin hesitated. “It just happened. It’s the monster – Side of me, I’m sorry, I—”

Jimin crawled forward slowly, sniffling. He reached out for Jin, touching a spot on his cheek not covered in blood. 

 “Shift,” he whispered. “Hold me.”

“Are you sure? You’re scared, I can smell it…”

“I’m terrified,” Jimin admitted. 

“So—”

“Remind me,” Jimin said. “Remind me that you won’t hurt me.”

Jin nodded then, seeming to understand. He obeyed, the cool coils of his tail surrounding Jimin quickly. His tentacles cocooned Jimin as well, forming a loose, fleshy cage from the outside world.

Jimin was tense, but leaned into Jin’s touch. He pressed his head to his chest, listening to the rapid glug of his heart. His own heart began to slow down as the adrenaline wore down, and he was able to process through what he had just seen. He wrapped his arms around Jin, moving closer.

“How can you stand here,” Jin whispered. “After seeing me lose control like that—”

“You saved me, Jin,” Jimin whispered. “You saved me and Mom.”

Jimin looked up, smiling softly. “You didn’t need to bite him though… Still hungry? You should’ve had that piece of pumpkin pie.”

Jin hesitated for a second before laughing in a sort of desperate surprise. 

“You don’t hate me?”

“No. Thank you for coming in when you did,” Jimin whispered, hugging Jin once more. 

“I was coming in to lay with you, I couldn’t sleep. I heard you scream and I—I saw red. I couldn’t stop the change. I knew you were in danger, I—”

“He was going to kill me tonight, Jin. I know it. That look, I’ve – I’ve never seen it before.”

“He can’t hurt you now. He can’t escape there.”

The reality of what had just happened hit Jimin suddenly, and he sagged in the center of Jin’s coil. Tears blurred his vision and he began to sob, holding tight to Jin’s torso as he did. 

Jin said nothing more, only holding him and petting his hair down. He tightened his coil a bit more, keeping Jimin firmly against his body. Jimin felt an additional warmth spread over him, and he realized it was a blanket from his bed. Jin leaned forward, resting on his own coil as they embraced. 

Jimin’s sobs faded into soft whimpers, exhaustion flooding in and overruling the anxiety and stress of the previous few minutes. He shifted, resting on one of the thicker parts of Jin’s coil, almost like a seat. He didn’t want Jin to let go. And – if Jin’s closed eyes were any indicator – Jin didn’t want to either. But this wasn’t safe.

“We could get caught,” Jimin whispered.

“I’ll lock the door.”

“You’re covered in blood. And so am I,” Jimin explained. Jin opened his eyes and sighed. 

“I suppose you’re right. I’m not leaving you alone tonight, Jimin.”

“What are we going to tell my mother?”

“I can handle that.” Jin shifted back, reluctantly letting go of Jimin. “But you’re right; we should get cleaned up.”

“Give me your shirt,” Jimin said. Jin obeyed, stripping out of his bloodied white sleeping shirt. Jimin balled it up, wiping his chest and neck free of as much blood as he could manage. “I’ll be right back.”

He slipped out of the room and went to the bathroom, wetting the shirt with some soap and water. He tried his best to wash the blood out, scowling at it when it wouldn’t come clean. He washed himself in the mirror, making sure there was no more blood on his face or chest. He could see bruises appearing where his father had struck him, and a quick peek revealed the same on his back – long strips of bruising and welting where the belt had struck. He sighed softly.

He returned to the room, using the wet shirt to clean Jin’s face and neck. Once clean, the claw marks that his father had left on Jin’s cheek were more obvious. He touched them, wincing.

“It doesn’t hurt too bad.” Jin said, grabbing his hand and kissing it. 

“I can’t get the blood out of the shirt.” Jimin lamented.

“No concern.” Jin waved his hand, opening another portal and tossing the shirt in. “Problem solved.”

“One at least.” Jimin tried to remain calm, but his anxiety was getting the best of him. Seeming to sense this, Jin scooped Jimin close, kissing him hard. Jimin could taste a bitter, iron-y tang on his lips, driving home exactly what happened. “Jin—” Jimin whispered.

“Are you scared of me?” Jin asked.

“No, I…” Jimin drifted off. “Why did you bite him? Are you… I mean do you crave… That?”

“No. It’s instinct in fights unfortunately. But I’m not interested in eating people. I’m sorry I frightened you.”

“You didn’t,” Jimin assured him. “I just… Wanted to know.”

“I promise the only bite I’ll take of you is the fun kind,” Jin said softly. Jimin chuckled. He slid his hands over Jin’s arms. “Shift again. Lock the door.”

“Are you sure?”

“You’ve never hesitated before…”

“You’ve never seen that side of me before.”

“Fair enough,” Jimin said. “I am sure. I think I need it tonight.”

Jin locked the door and shifted, coiling around Jimin. Jimin began to stroke his tail, closing his eyes as he ran his fingers lightly up and down the smooth, cool scales. As he did, he could feel a gentle bulge building where he knew Jin’s cocks were in this form. He smiled a little and reached down, brushing his finger over the slit they slid from. 

Jin shuddered. “Jimin—”

Jimin dipped his finger into the slit, feeling Jin’s half hard topmost cock. He met his gaze. “It’s okay. I want to.” He withdrew his finger and began to grind against Jin’s crotch, kissing him gently as he did. Soon, Jin’s cocks slipped from the slit, bumping Jimin’s own hardening cock through the thin fabric of his pajamas. Jin nudged him to get him around, his hands shaking ever so slightly.

Jimin turned as well as he could in the center of Jin’s coil. He leaned on the topmost ring, absentmindedly stroking the smooth scales as Jin’s hands and tentacles made quick work of his pajamas. The all good familiar slick, dribbling from his tentacle, ran down Jimin’s ass. They never used lube anymore; this was all they needed. The two midsized tentacles worked his ass open with ease. He opened his mouth, and Jin slid his thicker tentacle in, the suckers tickling Jimin’s tongue as he sucked on it. 

Almost too soon, he was ready. Jin’s tentacles slipped free.

“One or both?” Jin asked. 

The tentacle slipped from Jimin’s mouth so he could speak.

“If I were a Naga mate... Would this be how we’d breed?” Jimin asked instead.

“Yes. You’d face me — But we’d be wrapped in our coils like this.”

“Would you use one cock or both?”

“Both. Maximum chances to mate.”

“Then use both,” Jimin said simply.

Jin groaned. The tentacles did the work, lifting Jimin just enough and spreading his cheeks to drop him onto Jin’s thick, throbbing cocks. Jimin squealed, shuddering hard. 

“And if I were a monster—“ Jimin asked, beginning to lazily wiggle and flex around Jin’s cocks. 

“My tentacles, as you know.”

“Better get them in me then,” Jimin smirked when Jin’s throat clicked.

“I am your mate. I want to make all sides of you feel good.”

“Fuck...” 

Jimin groaned when one thin and one mid-sized tentacle slid into his already stretched hole. The thin one immediately coiled around Jin’s human shaped cock, while the other snaked deep inside him until his body cramped. Only then did it stop and begin swelling, already pumping fluid slowly into his guts.

Jimin moaned. The tentacle curled around Jin’s cock had begun to shift.

“Are you jerking off inside of me?”

“Mhm... Do you like it?”

“It feels so good,” Jimin panted, slumping down further. “Keep going...”

The tentacle twisted, wrapping around both cocks. It stroked them in sync. The other midsized tentacle slid down Jimin’s throat as soon as he opened his mouth to moan, and his eyes rolled back in pleasure. He began to suck on it, grumbling happily when Jin’s second thin tentacle opened up, swallowing down Jimin’s cock like a hot, wet mouth.

“That’s it, Minie,” Jin cooed, wrapping his arms around Jimin. “Just let go, let yourself float. I’ll take care of everything.”

Jimin obeyed. His eyes slipped shut, focusing on the overflow of physical sensations all over his body. The tentacle deep in his body had swollen to its maximum, essentially acting as a plug while it pumped fluid in lazy drizzles. The one down his throat was also dribbling fluid, and Jimin swallowed with no thought.

And of course Jin’s body. The coils flexed and tightened, making Jimin’s heart skip a beat. In all the times they’d made love - they had never done so in this form. Jin was always too scared of hurting him. But here - this was perfect. 

Jimin barely felt himself come, despite his instinctive cry and shudder. His mind felt miles away, floating along as Jin used his body. It was unbelievable. 

Jimin lost track of the number of orgasms be had; and the amount of come and fluid Jin had released inside him. He was distinctly aware of his boated stomach, a sure sign that Jin was nearly done.

“I got you a present,” Jin whispered in his ear. Jimin could feel his cocks throbbing, spilling a load deep into him. The tentacle down his throat slithered out and Jimin dragged in a breath. 

“What is it?”

“I was going to wait until we got home... I hid it in your bag...” Jin shifted, making Jimin groan as his overextended stomach moved. Jin snagged his bag and dug around in a front compartment, pulling out a semi-bulky black box. He opened it to reveal a thick silver anal plug.

Jimin moaned. “Please—“ He begged. His biggest regret after their lovemaking was always losing everything inside him, feeling so empty after. 

“Just relax,” Jin whispered he began to push the plug in alongside his cocks. The tentacle slipped out, a little further. He began to pull his cocks free at the same time he worked the plug in. The plug popped in at the same time his tips slid out and Jimin cried out sharply.

“Good or too much?” Jin worried.

“Good,” Jimin panted. “I can’t— I’m gonna pass out,” he admitted, the floaty feeling still present.

“I’ll take care of you, baby.” Jimin’s body went limp in Jin’s arms. He was vaguely aware of Jin shifting back and catching him before he could fall. He scooped him into his arms and laid him in the bed, carefully lying next to him.

“Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

Jimin wanted to answer, but couldn’t find the strength. He closed his eyes, his face twisting of its own volition. Tears welled behind closed lids and he whimpered.

“Oh, Jimin,” Jin whispered. He pulled him close and held him tight, tugging the blankets over them. “Breathe.”

Jimin grabbed at Jin’s back, crying against his chest. He wasn’t fully aware of why he was crying. His father, maybe; the reality of losing him settling in. Jin’s love – even to the point of doing something otherwise entirely out of character for him… It was all so much. 

Jimin cried until his belly ached and he was so tired he couldn’t open his eyes. And Jin remained with him, stroking his hair, hugging him, no matter how he shifted or sobbed.  When he could do no more, he reached for a tissue, laughing brokenly when Jin presented one to him. He sat up and blew his nose, his mind and body finally feeling like they were in one piece again. 

“Do you want to talk?” Jin asked softly when Jimin met his gaze. 

“Not really.”

“That’s okay. Are you alright? Can I help with anything?”

“I just… I – I don’t know.”

“I’m going to walk away for just a few seconds, okay? I need to get you something to drink and eat.”

“Don’t go!” Jimin said a little desperately, grabbing onto Jin’s arm. 

Jin sighed, chewing his lip. “Well, alright, let’s get pants on you; you come with me.” He rose, letting Jimin hang off him, as he dug in his bag.

“Do you need the plug taken out?” He worried.

Jimin looked down, seeing the small bulge of his stomach, still present. “Probably… I should… Bathroom.”

“We’ll stop there on the way. Where do your mother and grandmother sleep? Could they have heard the noise?”

“Ground floor – I doubt it… Walls are thick.”

Jin nodded again. He grabbed Jimin’s boxers and handed them to him, heading toward the door. “They wouldn’t come up here right? You can make it to the bathroom without putting those on?”

Jimin nodded. He let Jin guide him out of the bedroom to the bathroom. Jin stood back by the door, letting Jimin head to the shower. 

“Do you want me to help?” Jin asked. Jimin shook his head no, a sinking feeling in his stomach. He desperately did – he didn’t want to be away from Jin for a second, but maybe a few minutes away could let his mind un-fog itself. 

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. In the few minutes that it took him to clean himself – and the tub – from the aftermath of their lovemaking – he was ready to start sobbing again. 

“Jin,” he called, hating the desperation in his voice. Jin was there in a second, leaning into the shower. 

“Are you okay?”

“Not really.” 

“How much did you wash? Where can I help?”

“Dry off,” Jimin mumbled. His arms felt too heavy to move, and all he wanted to do was curl into a ball and cry. Jin reached in and shut off the water, leaning over to grab a towel and help Jimin out of the shower. He dried him off without a word and got him back into his boxers. Gently, he pressed a kiss to Jimin’s mouth. 

“I’m right here.” Jin guided him down the stairs and into the kitchen, grabbing a small bowl and spoon. He doled out some of the pudding and other sweets before settling Jimin into a chair. He stroked Jimin’s cheek and scooped some up. Jimin grimaced.

“I feel like a baby.”

“Never. You’re just… You went through a lot today. I’m here for you.”

“You always are,” Jimin whispered. He let Jin feed him a bite of pudding. 

“We can talk tomorrow,” Jin said. “I know you might need to process things.”

Jimin nodded. He ate quietly, moving a little closer so his knee touched Jin’s as he did. He felt ridiculous, but knew Jin was right. He didn’t know how he was going to face his mother and grandmother tomorrow.

After eating, Jin washed the dishes and put them away, and guided Jimin back up to his room, lying with him. 

“Get some sleep, if you can.”

Jimin snuggled tight to his chest, sighing softly. Jin remained with him, holding him as he drifted off into a fitful sleep.

The next morning, Jin pressed a kiss to Jimin’s mouth as he woke. “I have to go back to my room now.”

“I still don’t want you to go,” Jimin admitted. 

“Are you still feeling how you were last night?”

“Yes and no. I think things have set in, but I don’t feel so … Weird and floaty.”

“Do you want to talk?”

“About?”

Jin blinked, seemingly waiting for Jimin to figure it out. The memories of Jin, covered in his father’s blood, slipped back into his mind. “Right.”

“I understand if you dislike me for what I did.”

“He was my dad.”

Jin nodded, guilt coloring his expression. 

“But he was trying to kill me. He was beating mom. If you hadn’t…. I don’t know what he would have done. He was my dad, but he wasn’t a good man. What you did was justified. But what do we tell Mom? Gramma?”

“Let me handle it.”

“What will you say?”

“He was beating on you. I came in and broke it up, he clawed me, I hit him… He ran off. Simple as that. No proof to say otherwise. We were the only ones in the room and he’s not getting back from that world. Likely… He’s not breathing at this moment.”

Jimin hesitated for a moment, letting the words sit and sink in. He nodded. “Okay. I’ll follow your lead.”

Jin rose. He kissed Jimin once more and slipped out of the room and down the hall to his own room. Jimin rose and dressed, heading to the bathroom to comb his hair. He grimaced at the bruise on his jaw, dark and angry, and wished he’d brought along makeup to cover it. He sighed a little and fixed his hair, trying all he could to draw less attention to it. He went down the stairs, met with the scent of breakfast. Quietly, he peeked into the kitchen, his heart swelling a little. His mother was laughing brightly, stirring something in a bowl. His grandmother was flattening patties of rice, nodding along to something that was said earlier. 

Jiwoong caught sight of Jimin peeking in and grinned. “Get in here, you. Come try this.” Jimin entered fully, and Jiwoong’s smile drooped, seeing his jaw. 

“So that was the noise I heard last night.”

Jimin’s own smile faded. He hung his head. “I—”

“Did he leave after?” She asked. 

“Jin—He came in hearing me shout. He was beating me with a belt,” Jimin whispered. He pushed him off and they fought and he hurt Jin but Jin… Punched him, hard. He ran off when Jin threatened the cops.”

Jiwoong sighed and then nodded. “Good. He won’t be welcome back in this house if he returns.”

“Isn’t it his? He always said…”

She chuckled. “This was never his house. Your Gramma and Grandpa purchased it for us when we decided to move.” 

Jimin’s grandmother smirked behind her. “She’s lucky I didn’t kick his abusive ass to the curb before then. Come on, let me see if I can find something for that bruise. Are you hurt anywhere else?” She asked, wiping her hands on her apron. 

“Some cuts on my back from the belt and Jin’s got a scratch on his face.”

“Alright, we’ll get those cleaned up too. Where’s your knight in shining armor.”

“Getting ready in his room, I think.”

She guided Jimin into the bathroom and settled him onto the toilet, setting about digging in some of the cupboards. 

“Is it difficult?” His grandmother asked.

“What?”

“Him not being human.”

Jimin’s stomach dropped into his bladder. “Wh—What? Who isn’t human?” He stuttered.

Jimin’s grandmother smiled knowingly. “You don’t need to pretend. I know he’s Naga.”

“How?”

“Nagas are different. They move different, sound different. I saw his scales too – across his nose. And he smells like a snake, even with his cologne. What made me confident was the tattoo… Your tentacles have scales on them, very faintly. I’m not sure why there’s tentacles, or if he really is just fond of sea life… But I know he’s not human. I also know your father didn’t leave last night.”

She tugged his shirt up. Jimin pulled it off. He swallowed hard. Tears welled in his eyes. “Gramma—”

“I won’t tell. Good riddance, in my opinion. How did he do it though? Generally after Nagas feast they are unable to change back for a while…”

“He didn’t eat him, he… Threw him. Into another dimension.”

“I didn’t know Nagas had that ability.”

“They don’t. He’s half… Monster. He was… I met him because he was haunting my room. In my new apartment. The monster in my closet… God that sounds insane.”

“I believe you. Is he okay?”

“He’s fine – He fits in perfectly. I just… How did you know?”

“When I was young… I met one of his kind. He was far less friendly, but I learned a lot. His secret is safe with me.” She began to apply ointment to the cuts on his back. 

“Thank you, Gramma.”

“Jimin?” Jin called. 

“Bathroom,” Jimin returned. 

Jin slipped in, smiling softly. “You okay?”

“I’m good. I let them know about Dad… But Gramma…” 

Jin met her gaze. “You know.”

“I do. I have for a while.”

“I thought you might… You looked at me strange the first time we met. Do you know then…”

“About what you did to that bastard my daughter married? Yes. And I thank you for it. They will both be better off. Come sit, let met fix your face.”

“Nah, I heal fast; probably by tomorrow. Thank you though. Is your daughter okay?” He asked. 

“She was so happy this morning,” Jimin commented. “Was it because Dad…”

“Yes, honestly. When that creature isn’t around, she is entirely different. You boys did good. He never would have left us alone, even in Busan. Come on, let’s get back out there to eat.”

Jimin and Jin followed her back out. Jimin walked up to his mom and hugged her tight. “We’ll be happy,” he whispered. “I know, baby. I’m sorry he hurt you.”

“It was worth it. Seeing Jin defend me…”

Jiwoong smiled softly, looking at Jin. “He’s a good boy. Sit down, eat some breakfast and then we’ll open gifts.” 

Jimin nodded and sat down next to Jin. He leaned over and kissed him gently. 

Breakfast went smoothly and without argument, but with plenty of laughter. Gifts were the same, lots of laughter and sharing. Jimin and Jin were passed a few of the gifts belonging to Sungmin, and if Jimin was being honest with himself… His presence was not missed even a little. He’d never seen his mother smile or laugh so much, and he felt free and able to be himself for the first time in many years in his childhood home. Instead of being eager to go home, as he usually was after family meals – Jimin found himself wishing he could stay longer. He understood what had happened; the reality of what Jin did had sunken in at this point. But he was alright with it. His mother was so much happier now, he felt happier. Though he’d lost a parent, he – and his family – had gained freedom. And it was all thanks to his soulmate.

[sunflowerfromthefog]

The Trouble with Vaulting Pt 2

Description: Frank learned a thing or two from the Entity, and he likes to share these perks with his friends.

WARNINGS: rape/non-con, violence, little bit of blood, Frank is once again a great big jerk

You can also find my writing on AO3!

A/N: I’m sorry I totally forgot I had made a Tumblr for my DBD stuff.  Anyway, I don’t think I posted this one or the clown one here yet so here you go!

You couldn’t find a single soul in all of the wrecking yard. You’d searched the area, found the generators you needed to power, spotted the exit gates, destroyed a totem, but no people. Unfortunately, you’d spotted Joey, a friend of Frank’s that seemed just as perplexed as you about the lack of humans in the trial. He’d stood on top of a hill and spun in circles for a good five minutes trying to find someone, but for some reason the entity left you two alone. In a way you were happy for it; maybe it would be a little easier to avoid him if you didn’t have to rush around trying to save others. You were good at hiding after Nea and Meg showed you how to stay low to the ground and silent as you jumped over anything. Still, as you worked on a generator you felt a chill along your spine. Glancing over your shoulder you spotted Joey heading right in your direction. You sped off, dashing around a corner and going to leap silently over a window when suddenly you were stopped. The very same black claws that had stopped you in a previous trial grabbed around your waist again and locked you in place “Damn it,” you swore. You wiggled as hard as possible, but it did nothing. Kicking and pounding your fists you let out a scream. “What the fuck!” A leaf crunched beneath a heavy foot. You flinched, slowly raising your eyes to look at Joey’s half-skull mask. His head tilted to the left as he twirled his blade in his right hand. At least this member of Legion didn’t have an obsession with you like their leader did, but you still didn’t like how he was staring down at you. It wasn’t until he looked to his left that you realized he was waiting on something...someone. “Heya, doll,” a familiar voice sang. The skirt of your dress flipped up and you felt two warm hands grab your hips before one slapped your cheek. “Oh, same panties? Dirty girl. Doesn’t the entity give you a change of clothes once in a while? I’d really like to see you in that little red number the one chick’s got. Mmm, tearing that apart would be fun.” You struggled to look over your shoulder, finding another smiling mask. “What?” you questioned. Two killers in the trial? That never happened. That wasn’t possible! “How the hell--” “Lotta questions, eh, Joey,” Frank said. Joey nodded. “Let’s just say...I learned a thing or two from my time in the fog and well, Joey just thinks you’re really cute. And I don’t mind sharing.” Your heart leapt into your throat. No, this couldn’t be happening again. You began to hyperventilate as you kicked at Frank, swung your fists at Joey and warn them to stay away. “Aw, come on baby,” Frank chided, “you had so much fun last time. Don’t you remember begging me?” He began to grin his clothed crotch against your ass. In front of you, Joey continued to twirl his knife. Despite yourself you felt a small spark in your core. Damn it, why did the warmth of another have to be so tempting? Even when it’s a killer. “You remember begging me don’t you?” Frank asked again, his voice lower. A zipper in front of you drew your attention, Joey’s black jeans directly in front of your face. He undid the button and pulled out a very dark, throbbing cock, pressing it against your closed mouth. You pressed your lips together as tightly as possible, but all it did was force your assailant to grip your hair and force your head upright. He held the knife towards your face but you didn’t dare open your mouth. Instead you glared at him. A thrust from Frank pushed you into the blade and cut your cheek lightly. Joey pulled it down and slid it between your lips, nearly bringing it to the corner of your mouth for a cut. “Hey, hey,” Frank said, stopping the man. “Easy with the merchandise--I like blood but not--you know--blood.” Your breaths were coming out quick through your nose, still defiant. Joey pulled the knife away and stabbed it between the metal beside you. “I’ll give you a hand,” Frank said with a fake sigh. “Just like old times, eh?” Joey shrugged and nodded, giving his member a stroke. It was longer than Frank’s, thicker too. Frank took his knife and tore through your dress, from the bottom of the skirt to the tag at your neck. You were about to tell him to stop but instead clenched your teeth. Joey was ready for any opening--literally. Pushing the fabric aside, Frank then cut off your panties, leaving you completely naked before the men. You covered your mouth with one hand when you felt the black claws of the entity moving. The tickled along your middle, gripping at your sides and shoulders and hips until you were shifting as it wanted. It turned you around, placing you on your back and grabbing at your wrists, locking them to the window. Despite your best attempts, you screamed, “No! This isn’t--” Joey took the opportunity to grab the sides of your face and shove his dick into your mouth. Your lips stretched painfully as you felt him reach the back of your throat and further. You gagged as he pulled back, only to push back in a little further. You did your best to relax your throat and just as you were about to bite down on the bastard there were fingers inside your cunt. “I like playing with you,” Frank said, “and my mom always said I should learn to share my toys. But if you think of hurting my dear friend here, well, I can’t guarantee what might happen to your friends.” You stilled, the salty taste of precum flowing across your tongue as Joey slowed his pace. He was gentler now, rolling his hips along to make sure you felt everything. “Yeah,” Frank whispered. You couldn’t see him but you could tell his mask was off; his voice no longer muffled. Joey gave a deep thrust, his balls hitting your forehead. He stayed there a moment, his grip getting tighter on your face. One hand moved to your throat and gave a squeeze, making him shudder. He must have liked the feel of your throat tightening even more. “Give her a second,” Frank ordered. Joey listened and pulled out, leaving you a sputtering, gasping mess. Joey gave himself another stroke with one hand and began to grope your breasts with the other. He rolled your nipples between two fingers roughly, holding them too tight and making your body tense. Your thighs held around Frank’s hips, and it was only then you noticed his own cock was out and resting against your lower lips. “It’s fun when you struggle, but it’s also fun when you’re compliant,” Frank said. He gave you a grin, clearly loving the sneer you shot at him. “Be a good girl, and we won’t do the same to your friends next time we see them.” Your breath froze in your chest. Did he...had they done this to the others before? “Mhmm,” Frank hummed. His fingers drummed along your stomach, sliding down your thighs and pushing your knees towards your chest. Joey hooked a thumb in your lips, pulling your attention towards him. Frank continued, “I mean, you’ll always be my favourite, but you can’t always go for the same thing at the buffet, right? Well, I will. If you’re good for daddy.” Joey tugged at your lips, bringing his head to the tip of your lips but not forcing himself in. “You going to be good for daddy?” Frank asked. His tone was sickly sweet. You didn’t want to, obviously. But the idea of this happening to Claudette, Meg, Kate, any of the other survivors made your gut churn. So you nodded. “Then suck that dick, girl,” Frank ordered. You gulped as well as you could with Joey’s thumb still hooked in your cheek. You stuck your tongue out and he was more than happy to close the distance. He slipped into your mouth until his pubic hair tickled your chin, sliding back and forth with small grunts. “Yeah, that’s just perfect.” Frank lined himself up with your entrance and pressed in with one thrust. No preparation like before, nothing. He shoved himself in and made your walls burn, forcing a scream from your lungs and into your throat. The vibration caused a loud grunt from Joey, who pulled back squeezed down on your throat. He stroked himself through his orgasm and shot it into your mouth, ensuring your tongue and lips were coated with his seed. With his hand around your throat you couldn’t spit him out or even swallow to get rid of the bitter salty taste. After a few seconds he seemed spent, his dick softening before your eyes. He finally let go of your throat and just as you went to spit his cum out of you another hand covered your mouth. Frank’s hand. “Swallow, baby, swallow. Don’t waste any of that!” You were still sputtering in an attempt to breathe, but obeyed. Frank was still fully sheathed inside of you, and you would never admit that you wanted him to move. The pain you felt was nothing compared to the desire to have this over with...and maybe get yourself off in the process. Swallowing what was left in your mouth, Frank finally released you and placed his hands on your legs. He pushed your knees further up until they nearly touched your breasts, giving him ample access to push hard into you. “Hey, hold these,” Frank said to Joey. Joey did as he was told and grabbed behind your knees, keeping them wide open. His mask was staring down at your breasts, clearly enjoying the way they bounced with each of Frank’s thrusts. Soon enough Frank began to rub your clit with a light touch. He started to press harder and harder, giving your painful burn a delicious pleasure. Your walls started to clench, no longer desperate to push him out and instead rubbing along his shaft searching your own release. “Ah,” you breathed as Frank pressed his palm to your sensitive nub. “Ngg.” Joey’s head tilted to look at your face and you desperately wanted to cover it. Your arms tensed against your restraints, trapped at your sides. There was nothing you could do to hide the fact that you were getting hot and bothered by your own abuse. So you closed your eyes, pants coming faster and faster to match Frank’s. “What’d I tell ya, Joey?” Frank asked, his hands finding both your breaths and pinching hard. “She loves getting fucked. Loves getting raped.” He laughed loudly. “N-No,” you argued. It did little to prove him wrong. “I-I don’t. I don’t want this or any of th--” Without Frank rubbing your clit your high started to drift away. You moaned in despair--why did he have to drag these out? “Good girls that obey their daddy’s would always agree with them,” Frank told her. Joey pulled your knees harder, making you squeak. “Maybe we’ll have to see if one of the other survivors are good girls…?” You pursed your lips. “I…” “Yes baby? What do you like? Tell daddy.” All through his his thrusts were going from fast to slow to fast again. He leaned down and took one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking on it. Your back tried to arch but barely moved against the entity’s hold. “Fuck,” you groaned. Could you really say it? What he wanted… “I...I like it when you fuck me.” “And?” “Sh-share me…” Don’t make me say it, you prayed, please… “And?” “I like it when you rape me,” you whispered. “Louder!” Frank shouted. He straightened and started to pound into you, furiously rubbing your clit with two fingers. You shrieked at the change of pace. The fierce power Frank was putting into fucking you made you want it to stop. It didn’t feel good anymore, though that rubber band in your core was still ready to snap. “Say it!” Frank ordered. “I like it when you rape me!” you screamed. Tears streamed down your temples as you wailed, your orgasm ripping through your while Frank laughed. The electricity shooting through your body, tingling your fingertips and forcing your body to practically convulse in an attempt to move, made your mind numb. Frank continued to taunt you through your orgasm, but soon his own came across him and he pressed as deeply into you as possible to spread his seed. His hips shook with yours, hands holding you there as if you could escape if you really wanted. When your breathing began to slow you swallowed audibly, and Joey released your legs. They fell on either side of Frank, his dick softening inside of you. “What do we say when we get a gift?” Frank asked. “Th-Thank you,” you mumbled. You turned your head away, eyes closed as he pulled out of you and you felt what he left dripping from you. “Thank you.” You heard fabric rustling as Frank put himself back into his pants, and then a sudden heat back beneath your thighs. You opened your eyes, finding Joey’s mask at your lower lips. “What are you doing?” you questioned. “He recovers quick,” Frank behind his friend. He shrugged. Joey had your thighs over his shoulders, and as he dragged his mask from your clit, up your stomach, and nuzzled your breasts you felt his cock against your entrance. With one hand he lined himself up, and then lifted your legs as he slowly slid in. “Nnnn...no,” you mumbled. “No!” “Hey!” Frank said. “That’s not being a good girl.” He leaned against the edge of the window. “I don’t think I’ll let you come this time.” Despite what Frank left in you, and your own juices, you still felt a burn from Joey’s intrusion. He didn’t care for your pleasure as Frank pretended, and used you as if you were a doll. Each thrust gave you a pang as his head reached your cervix. You started to cry and struggle harder. “Hey, remember to pull out,” Frank said, giving Joey a tap on the arm. Joey growled something but when you felt his dick twitching he did what he was told. He pulled out and stroked himself to completion as he had before, spraying onto your stomach and chest. Long thick threads of white decorated your body, both of the men laughing. Frank came around to run his hands through your hair. “Now what do we say?” He played idly with one of your breasts. Weakly, you replied, “Thank you.”

[parkrstark]

ladies and gentlemen, it’s too much for captain america!

wrttien for @whumptober2020  day 1: waking up restrained, shackled, hanging, Steve wakes up restrained and hanging in some Hydra den, which is fine, really. He can handle that. What he can't handle is watching them blow up his husband and son. That breaks him more than any torture ever would. 1.8k, ao3

When Steve became aware of things around him again, it felt like he had never passed out. It was like a moment had passed since one of the Hydra agents slammed a block of concrete against the side of his head, rendering him unconscious. 

But he knew it couldn't have been that short of time because he wasn't where he was knocked unconscious. He was strung up by the shackles and chains around his wrists. 

His feet just barely brushed against the ground, not enough to hold himself up to stop the iron from digging into his wrists. 

He couldn't help the groan he let out as he lifted his neck so his chin was no longer resting against his chest. 

"Finally awake, hm?" 

Steve looked over at the Hydra agent speaking to him and he narrowed his eyes, keeping his jaw clenched firm. 

"You've been out for quite some time. It's hard to get information from an unconscious man." 

"I think you'd find it easier than getting it from me while I'm conscious," Steve growled. 

"We'll see about that," the man strolled over, casually with a cattle prod in his hand. 

Steve kept his mouth shut even when it was stuck in his side. He gritted his teeth through the burning pain. 

"Are you sure there's nothing you'd like to tell us?" Hydra man asked after what had to be a half hour or endless electrocution and punches. 

Steve didn't know what the hell he wanted, but he answered anyway. "Actually, there is something I'd like to tell you." 

Steve couldn't see the agent's face behind his mask, but he bet there was a smirk. "Please share." The cattle prod sparked with electricity, only inches from Steve's chest.

“Kiss my ass.” 

The Hydra Agent shoved the prod forward until it connected with his skin. Steve was not as loud as the man, but he couldn't help the grunt of pain. 

Once he was done and staring up at Steve, Steve made sure there was a smile plastered on his face. 

The Hydra Agent used the prod to hit Steve in the side of the head with. Steve swung slightly from the shackles and tried to stop himself from moving. Before he could stop moving, the prod was stuck into his side again and his body seized painfully as electricity ran through his body. He couldn’t help the groan he let out. 

The Hydra Agent laughed. “I’d love to do this for hours, Captain. I won’t stop until you tell us something.” 

The electricity was back and Steve grunted through it. Once the electricity was gone, his body sagged and he could feel drool trickle down his chin. He didn’t know how many volts they were pumping into him with each shock, but it was definitely adequate against Captain America. 

He could barely lift his head. 

“Change your mind yet?” The Hydra Agent cackled. 

It took Steve a few seconds to even be able to get his mouth to speak. But when he did, he made sure his voice was strong as he could make it. “I got something for you.” 

“And what is that, Captain?”

Steve took a deep breath and rattled off what he had memorized in basic training. "Name: Steven Grant Rogers. Rank: Captain. Serial number: 54985870.” He decided smirking down at him was a good usage of his energy. “And that's all you'll ever get from me." 

With a frustrated shout, the agent pulled the prod back, ready to hurt Steve again when he was interrupted by red lights flashing in the room, followed by blaring alarms. 

The Hydra Agent moves away from Steve, back to a monitor screen. He typed away until a feed was brought up and he saw outside from a surveillance feed. 

There was nothing in the frame and Steve didn't understand what they were looking at until a familiar blob of red and gold came into view. 

The agent zoomed in on the blob, and sure enough, it was Iron Man. He was sneaking through trees, no idea by his calmness that he had already triggered a silent alarm.

"Oh, look at this," he said. "Someone's coming to save you, huh?" 

Steve didn't react, though he was so proud of Tony for finding him. 

Until he heard him whisper, "Alright, Webs. You wanted to tag along, stay close. I'm not losing you too." 

And then Spider-Man was sneaking up behind him. "I'm not completely incapable of handling myself." 

"If I save Steve and he comes back and finds out that I lost our kid, he won't be very happy with me." 

Steve's heart stopped. That wasn't something any of them broadcasted. Sure, they teamed up a lot in smaller missions, but it was never confirmed Spider-Man was their kid. And they definitely never let him tag along on big missions like this. 

Tony and Peter continued to sneak through the trees, but Steve could barely focus when all he heard was the agent's cackling. It turned into loud howling laughter soon enough. 

"Oh, this is just too good to be true! Just wait until the others find out. Iron Man and Captain America's kid is Spider-Man." 

No. No. The world knew Steve and Tony had a kid, Peter, and now they would know that kid was also Spider-Man. 

"Please. Leave him alone. He's just a kid." 

Hydra Agent turned to him with a grin. "So suddenly you want to talk, huh?" 

"Please," Steve begged. "Don't hurt him." 

"You know we have excellent defenses around the base. One click of this button and the mines we have set up go off immediately. They'll be blown out of those suits so fast." 

Steve was shaking now, trembling as he struggled against the shackles. "No! Don't kill them!" 

The agent didn't even hesitate before clicking the button in front of him. Steve turned to the feed and stared, just waiting for what was about to happen. 

Peter went still, he straightened up. "Something's wrong." 

Tony glanced back and asked, "What?" 

"Dad--." 

That was the last thing he said before an explosion lit up behind them, and they both went flying, somewhere off screen. 

"Oh, boy," the man laughed. "There's no way they survived that." 

And the worst part was that Steve knew he was right. 

He sagged in the restraints, not caring at how much weight he was putting on his wrists. All of his fight was extinguished immediately. Without his family, there was no reason for anything. 

He stared down at the ground, willing himself to wake up from this nightmare. It didn't work. 

He heard the man walking closer, his footsteps and laughter sounded like nails on a chalkboard. "What's a matter?" 

Steve could only guess how drained he looked. He stayed silent. 

"Did you not like the show? You got to see them one last time. I didn't have to give you that." 

"My family…" He said, his voice so hollow and devoid of any emotion. 

"Your family is dead, Captain Rogers. And soon you will be if you don't give us what we need to know." 

"I don't care," Steve said, shaking his head. He looked back up from the floor and looked to the man in that mask, that coward. "Fucking kill me. Please. It will be better than living. It would hurt less." 

"With great pleasure." 

The prod came back again, full force, and Steve was right. That burning hurt so much less than the memory of Peter's fearful cry and then the two of them getting blown away, trying to save him. 

He welcomed every blow until he was finally knocked unconscious. This time, he hoped he never woke up. 

--

"Babe, babe, you gotta get up." 

Steve couldn't help but open his eyes when he heard Tony's voice. The edges of his vision were still dark and the rest was blurry, but he'd recognize his love anywhere. "Tony." 

"Thank JARVIS you're awake." Tony looked him up and down. "You're so bloody and beat up...I was so scared…" 

Steve just continued staring. "Tony…" 

"Yes, baby, it's me. I'm right here." He cupped his cheek gently. 

Steve smiled. "I wish you were here." 

"I am. I am." He glanced over his shoulder anxiously, which didn't make sense. Tony wasn't really here. He was dead. He had nothing to worry about if he was dead. 

"I miss you already." His eyes started to droop shut again. 

"Miss me? Babe, I'm right here." 

"You're gone. I miss you." Steve leaned into the touch. 

"I'm right here and we're getting you out of here." Tony started to pull at the shackles around his wrists. "Pete, get over here and hold him up while I break these." 

"Petey's here?" Steve looked around for his boy. He wanted to hear his voice again when he wasn’t panicking. 

Tony frowned, looking back at him. "Steve, how hard did they hit your head?" 

Suddenly Peter was in front of him, holding him by his waist. "Hey, Pops." 

"Say that again," Steve said. He just wanted to keep hearing him talk forever and ever to wipe out the sound of him crying. 

Peter looked as confused as Tony did. "Hey, Pops…"  

"I miss you too, baby bear." 

"I'm right here, Pops. Not going anywhere." 

Steve's wrists were uncuffed and Peter caught him easily because of his super strength. 

Then he was putting him on the ground with one arm still wrapped around him while Tony held the other side. Steve looked from Peter to Tony and then back to Peter and then back to Tony. 

"Wait...you're here. This isn't...this isn't a dream?" 

"Finally coming back to us, big guy?" Tony asked, sounding a little worried. 

"But I saw you-- I saw--." 

"You saw us get blown to fucking Guam? Yeah. Well, they didn't plan on all the safety features I added to Spider-Man's suit to protect him from pyromaniac wackos like these freaks and thankfully, I was close enough to be included in that protection." 

"The video-- they know. They heard you. They'll tell." Steve glanced back at the monitor, just noticing all the damage to the room he was being held in. 

"I wiped their entire system. They have nothing. And there were no survivors here to spill whatever secrets they learned. Don't worry." 

Steve found relief in that, and being held by his boys, who were both safe and alive. 

"Hey, Tony?" 

"Yeah, Winghead?" 

"Remind me later when I'm not close to passing out, to kick your ass for bringing our son on a mission like this." 

Tony laughed and it was a beautiful, beautiful sound. Steve was still pissed though. "Oh, Stevie. Now I know you definitely got hit in that noggin hard if you think it would have been possible for me to leave him home. That kid is just as reckless and stupid as us when his family is in danger." 

Even half conscious, Steve couldn't argue that. "That kid is crazy, huh?" 

"Yeah, just like his Pops."

[thebiasrekkers]

Shadow’s Birthright | MYG

Chapter 00: Prologue

Plot: Riding in on thunder and lightning, two princes are born. But a crown cannot be shared. It can only be worn by one and one alone. The hands of man have separated the brothers, allowing one to live in wealth and comfort inside the palace while the other grows up among commoners. But Fate cannot be destroyed by the hands of man. A shared destiny reunites the brothers; one to become a king who descends into madness and the other will rise as a dragon whose journey has only just begun in order to claim a crown he does not desire to have.

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: series | historical!au | fantasy!au | angst | romance | drama | tragedy

Pairing: Min Yoongi (Lee Yoon) x Female OC (Kalina Shuri)

Warnings: Historical setting, caste system, magic/sorcery, graphic violence, disturbing graphic images, religious tones, angst, slow burn, smut

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 2,128

Tag List: @luxekook​, @pinkpjmin​, @btsaudge​, @flowerwrites06​, @stillcopingxx​, @taevkimchi​, @aroseforyoongi​

AN: I’ve teased you all enough with this. I’ve been doing it since Yoongi dropped that damn MV (you all know it by now, don’t act like you don’t). And now here we are. Me. Again. Teasing you with a prologue. But it will be worth the wait, my loves. It will be worth the torture that I am about to put you all through. Because it’s a story I think needs to be told. I know I’ve seen some one-shots out there, and while that’s great, I want to put my Korean History knowledge through the ringer and really put you guys on a roller coaster. If you love this story, show it love. I’m writing this because it’s a story featuring a subject I’m passionate about and one that I will put all of my heart and soul into. Just like with Make It Right. So I present to you the start of this journey, this trilogy series (yes, I said it) full of heartbreak, magic and love.

P.S. Please bear in mind that while the historical accuracy will be mostly correct, I am setting this in a time period in Joseon history where there was no such thing as a king who had a twin brother. Obviously that’s where the fiction/creative freedom is going to come in. Everything else will be period accurate, trust and believe. 

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

“The more a thing is perfect, the more it feels pleasure and pain.” - Dante Alighieri - The Divine Comedy

Thunder rumbled across the skies as a pained scream tore through the night. 

Hurried footsteps echoed through the palace halls as maid servants and eunuchs piddled about. Some carried brass basins full of water, others had armfuls of fresh linens. Royal physicians moved in and out of the White Lily Pavilion, urgency in their steps, and everyone was talking at once.

“The water isn’t hot enough!”

“Are those fresh linens?”

“The tonic is almost ready!”

“She’s sweating far too much!”

“We need another pillow!”

“Her legs are swollen. We need cold compresses!”

“Elevate them for now!”

“Her Majesty needs some water!”

Suddenly, there was a sharp gasp from one of the maidservants as an approaching eunuch appeared, followed by a small entourage of soldiers, eunuchs and handmaidens. She stumbled forward when another servant ran into her back, nearly knocking the fresh basin of water from her hands.

“His Majesty, The King, has arrived!”

Those who were able to, prostrated themselves before the king immediately. He wore deep crimson robes with golden dragons embroidered on the sleeves and chest. The topknot was held together with a golden ornament that resembled flames - a dragon pin pushed through to hold the item in place. His eyes were wide, full of concern, and burned a rich umber that was reflected from the crack of lightning that lit up the sky.

“How is she?” he asked as the royal physician approached, wringing his hands clean of blood. “It’s been hours!”

The Royal Physician sighed, sweat beading out over his forehead and nose. “It is a difficult labor, Your Majesty. Truthfully, I’m worried about Her Majesty’s safety.”

The King glared at him, causing the doctor to flinch slightly. “If she dies, I will have your head. Do you understand?”

The physician bowed deeply, as did his assistants. “Forgive me, Your Majesty. I will do everything in my power to ensure that the Queen has a healthy delivery.”

Suddenly, one of the maid servants appeared, a smile on her face. “The baby is breaching, Sir!”

The Royal Physician made haste, following after the servant and back into the pavilion. The King watched, his hands locked together as he began to silently pray for the safety of both his Queen and his child. His eunuch and bodyguard sidled up on either side of him, whispering encouraging words to help ease his anxieties. 

After what felt like hours of listening to the doctors and servants yelling encouraging words to the Queen, a shrill yell of agony broke through the night. On the tail end of the scream, a baby’s cry could be heard. The King felt his legs give way and he was held up by his attendants as he laughed in relief. But just before he was allowed to enter his Queen’s chamber, he heard something concerning.

“My Lord! Another one! Another child is pushing through!”

“What?!” the physician yelled, confused. This concerned the King, but since the Queen was still in labor, he was not granted entrance into her chambers. “Bring more linens and fetch Her Majesty’s tonic! Hurry!”

More urging words were given to the Queen as she continued her labor. The tension was so thick in the air that it could be sliced completely in half with a sword. Every so often, an attendant would tap at the sweat collecting on the King’s brow and temple. The storm that threatened to rain down on them continued to make itself known until another young voice pierced through the sky.

The King didn’t bother halting his steps as he all but ran toward the entrance of the Lily Pavilion. He kicked off his boots and his sock-clad feet thundered against the polished wood flooring. Two servants quickly slid the doors open to allow the King to enter the Queen’s chambers. His haggard breathing escalated when he saw his Queen’s complexion was even paler than when he’d last seen her. The servants and physicians quickly moved aside to allow the King to situate himself at her bedside. 

“Choon-jung,” he whispered, his hands immediately moving to grasp her own as she reached out to him, “you did very well.”

Tears leaked from her eyes as she smiled weakly up at him. “Cheon-ha,” she managed to croak out, her dark bangs clinging to the sweat on her forehead and cheeks, “forgive your servant for her lack of grace.”

“Nonsense.” He stroked her cheek with as much affection as he could without allowing his emotions to overcome him. “You must rest now, my Queen. It has been a long night.”

“Your grace is immeasurable.” Again, she smiled. For a moment, all they did was look at each other. Finally, she huffed out a breath and craned her neck in different directions. “The Royal Physician?”

“I believe he went to go fetch your tonic, my Queen.” The King watched her nod again. Just as he was about to speak, two maidservants appeared. Each of them were holding thick silk blankets; one gold and the other emerald green. The King’s happy mood slowly grew dour. “Are they princes or princesses?”

The two servants seemed to sense the tone shift in The King’s expression and voice. They both looked at one another before lowering their heads solemnly. When he slammed his hand on the floor, they immediately fell to their knees while cradling the children and prostrating themselves at the Queen’s bedside.

“Forgive us, Your Majesty!”

“My King,” called his Queen, attempting to soothe his ire, “please, you must remain calm.”

“Are they princes or princesses?” He asked the question again through clenched teeth. He would not ask a third time. 

One servant lifted her head to meet the King’s harsh gaze, gasping and then dipping it back down again. “F-Forgive your servant’s insolence, Your Majesty,” she stammered, clinging to the emerald blanket for what he could only assume was out of comfort, “they are both healthy princes.”

“Dojin-ah,” the King called, his hand already extended out in waiting. His bodyguard approached and placed a small dagger in the King’s palm. The two servants huddled even closer together as the King stood. “Which of the princes was born first?”

The Queen sat up fully, arms flying outward to cling to the lower half of the King’s robes. “Cheon-ha! I beg you to show mercy!” She tightened her grip on the silk fabric and he could only flash a pained expression as he stared into her fearful eyes. “They are your sons, My King!”

“You know that I cannot do that, Choon-jung,” he replied softly, his brows furrowing, “twin sons will only create turmoil in the Royal court. I do not want my sons fighting over the throne in the future. Nor will I have them be used as tools by any of the noble factions to obtain more power for themselves.” 

Tears spilled from the Queen’s eyes and her hands slowly slid from his robes. He knew that she couldn’t argue with him. It wasn’t her place, and even if it were, she had no counterargument to dissuade him with. Reaching down to stroke her cheek, he gave her a silent apology with a mere look. He slowly unsheathed the dagger, his gaze hardening as he looked back at the two maidservants. 

“Which of the princes was born first?” he asked again, pointing the tip of the dagger in their direction. “Do not lie to me or I will take your lives from you. Do you understand?”

The girl holding the golden blanket shuffled forward on her knees, holding the child swaddled inside out to the King. “This is the first-born prince, Your Majesty.”

He hummed, turning to face the servant holding the emerald blanket. “Give me the child.” Her head shot up and she turned a frightful gaze to the Queen. For a while, all the Queen could do was avert her gaze. “NOW!” The King’s booming voice shook the young servant girl from her frozen state and she slowly stood to approach the King.

When the child was placed into his arms, the King looked down at the young prince. His hair was jet black and his complexion was a bit red from having been brought into the world finally. The child fought sleep for a few seconds before he blinked up a set of dark, curious eyes at him. The King’s heart skipped a beat when the child sputtered a tiny giggle and smiled at him. 

For a moment, the King of Joseon believed he would not be able to do this.

Before he could stop her, the Queen was up on her feet and wrenched the child from his grasp. She stumbled backwards, landing hard on her bedding. Her hair and robes were completely disheveled and her servants were immediately at her side as they began to straighten her appearance as best they could. Clinging to the child, she glared harshly up at the King.

He sighed. “Choon-jung,” he said slowly, his eyes narrowing, “do not do this.”

“I cannot let you kill him!” She pulled the baby up to her cheek and buried her face into the blanket, sobbing openly into it. “I will not let you do it!”

The King hated seeing his beloved Queen in this state. For as long as they’d been married, before he’d even been crowned King of Joseon, he simply wanted to live a fulfilling life with his wife. They’d tried many times over the years to bear children, but to no avail. And now, when they were finally granted a miracle from the Heavens, they were instead cursed with two sons. 

He’d never wished for the twins to have been princesses more than in that very moment.

Again, the Queen reached out to cling at his robes. He knew that she was desperate and he wanted nothing more than to grant her every wish she desired. But bloodshed often ran rampant in the palace. It took place when he was a child many years ago. He didn’t want that life for his sons. 

“Please, My King! If you must deny this child’s existence, then send him away!” Seeing her tear-stained cheeks upset him and he slowly lowered himself down to her. “Please don’t kill our son. I’m begging you!”

For a long moment, no one said anything. The only sounds that could be heard were the tiny coughs and sleepy sneezes of his sons. Finally, he sighed and lowered the dagger at his side. He could not win against her.

“Very well,” he said, causing her to release another sob; this time from relief. 

His bodyguard, Dojin, was about to retrieve the dagger. But before he could get his hands on it, the King shot his arm out to snatch his son out of the Queen’s arms. Before she could stop him, the King brought the dagger’s blade down on the child’s face. Blood wept from the right cheek and the infant screamed in pain. The Queen’s own screams intermingled with the noise and while it hurt his heart to do this, he knew that it had to be done. 

He rose to his feet, handing both the dagger and the child to Dojin. “Take him, Dojin-ah. Take him and leave the Capital at once.” His bodyguard blinked, holding the child close to his chest. “You are not allowed to return unless summoned. Do you understand?”

Dojin’s lips parted slightly. “B-But Your Majesty…” 

“He is your son now, Dojin-ah.” Reaching into the sleeve of his robe, he pulled out hiding inside of his palm and shoved it into the silk belt wrapped around Dojin’s waist. “When the time comes, give this to him. You will know when.”

He watched his bodyguard and dearest friend frown. “Your Majesty…”

“This is my decree.” The King placed his hands on Dojin’s shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. “Go. Go now!”

He watched Dojin lower his head sharply and then hastily made his retreat just as the Royal Physician returned. He looked over his shoulder curiously and the King quickly swept his arm out across his body. “The Queen only gave birth to one son. That is what the entire Kingdom will know from this day forward.” His eyes narrowed as the servants and physicians all looked between each other. “If I so much as hear a whisper of anything else within these palace halls, I will bathe the royal gardens with your blood.”

Sharp gasps and hushed whispers were thrown between everyone. The King stomped his foot, commanding for silence. “Am I making myself clear?!”

“Yes, Your Majesty!” All the servants lowered themselves, their heads bowed deeply to hide their faces. “Your grace is immeasurable!”