#noticing the fingers were different lengths later just made me jaded

[gameringgungke]

finally utilizing my skill to make Big Monsters

[forever-rogue]

Honeyed Whiskey

A/N: This was not called for at all, but I was so inspired by THIS dress from yesterday. It’s just a little soft, gentle fluff. Enjoy! xx

Pairing: Jack Daniels x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: references to sex, but nothing graphic

Pedro Character Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

By the time he's lulled from sleep, far later than he normally would have preferred, the first thing he notices is the golden sunlight streaming in through sheer curtains and open windows. Instantaneously, a smile is tugging on his features and he shifts onto his back, stretching limbs made stiff by sleep. He's content and comfortable, already enjoying his days off, knowing they'd be spent with you. 

As soon as the thought of you crosses his mind, honeyed brown eyes slowly open again and he's blinking away the bleariness while reaching over to your side of the bed. But you're gone already, he notes with a light huff, finding nothing but cool emptiness where you normally laid.

Before he can get too lost in his own thoughts, he hears you. Its faint - soft and barely audible over the steady stream of the shower, but it's there. Crystal clear and beautiful, at least to his ears, he hears you singing softly under your breath along to whatever you had playing on the speakers. Rubbing away the remaining sleep from his eyes, he pulls back the soft, warm blankets and slides out from underneath. 

He's still naked from the evening before, but he doesn't even bother to dress or reach for even a stitch of clothing. He already knows you'll just strip off in seconds anyway. A beaming grin crosses his features at that; you certainly knew what you wanted and when you wanted it.

Almost as if you could sense him, you stopped singing for a moment and he hears the tell-tale rustle of the shower curtain, "Jack? Honey, is that you?"

"Hi Sugar," he poked his head and found you staring back with excited eyes and a head full of shampoo lather, "you're up early...need a hand?"

"Its the Farmers Market today," you reminded him with a crook of your finger as he stepped into the warm bathroom, "I don't want to miss it, besides you're taking me to brunch and everything!"

"And just who decided this?" his tone was teasing as he stepped into the shower and pulled the curtain closed. You grinned up at him, pressing a kiss to his plush lips and batting your lashes innocently. He huffed in jest before reaching up and tenderly cupping your face, "I suppose I did, huh?"

"I'm sure that's what you were saying last night," you couldn't help but beam at him, "when I was on top - somewhere in between telling me how good I was and how much you love me."

"Well now, I definitely can't say no to you, Sugar," his hands slowly went from the side of your face and into your scalp as delicately massaged it to help wash the shampoo out.

"Jack, you don't have to wash my hair," you insisted but you definitely wouldn't have minded if he did. Showering with Jack was always an experience; something so intimate and sacred, especially when you took the time to wash and explore each other's bodies. You took the opportunity to shower together whenever you could, especially on lazy weekend days.

"I know I don't have to, baby," he insisted softly as he started to tender wash the lather, "but I want to. Let me take care of you, Sugar. You always take such good care of me, its my turn to love you."

"Well, who am I to turn down an offer like that?" a contented sigh left your lips as you keened into his gentle touch, "I am no fool. I love you, Jack."

"And I love you, honey."

»»————-　♡　————-««

You spent a long time in the shower, and by the time the two of you got you were both pruned. Jack's towel was slung low on his hips as he went to his side of the closet to grab some clothes for the day.

A sly little smile found its way onto your face as you dashed down the stairs and to the laundry room. You'd gone shopping yesterday and found something you'd planned on wearing today. As soon as you had seen it, you knew you had to have it, and you were positive that Jack would love it too.

"What happened?" Jack called down the stairs as you quickly slipped on your undergarments and the item of clothing.

"Nothing!" you promised as you bounded back up stairs to surprise him. Jack was standing in front of the full length mirror, buttoning up his shirt. The simple sight was still enough to take your breath away as you watched him for a few moments. His dark mop of hair was still damp and unruly, and you couldn't wait to run your hands through it.

You leaned against the door frame and cleared your throat in order to garner his attention. Jack slowly turned around, and when he was fully facing you, his jaw almost dropped. He slowly walked over to you, that look of adoration and devotion in his eyes that you were so fond of.

"You look beautiful, Sugar," he drawled as you slowly twirled to give him a look good at the beautiful yellow sundress you were wearing. It was breathtaking, and you had known from the moment you spied it that it was the one. Stopping just at your knees it was a beautiful, golden yellow with flowers all over it, with simple thin straps. The bodice hugged you just right and the little flare was perfect. You had a feeling Jack would like it too, "what a gorgeous dress on the most gorgeous woman in the world."

"Now you're just flattering me," you laughed lightly and put a hand on his broad, pushing him back ever so lightly, "do you like though? Really? I-I saw it and fell in love and couldn't help myself."

"Its not flattery if it's true," he insisted as he grabbed your hand and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, "I love it - not nearly as much as you, of course, but it's beautiful. And you make it even more so."

"You really do know just what to say, don't you, my love?" you couldn't help but steal a quick kiss as you flounced past him to finish getting ready, "still up for brunch?"

"And then the farmer's market," he reminded you with a soft smile, "I couldn't think of a better way to spend my day."

»»————-　♡　————-««

Brunch was a slow, fun affair as the two of you ate and drank your way through probably too much food. You'd insisted that Jack could pick the place since you were technically forcing him to brunch. He'd agreed, but that quickly turned into him driving to your favorite spot regardless. A silly old fool you had lovingly deemed him.

By the time you'd reached the farmer's market, it was warm and everything was bathed in brilliant sunlight. Jack had quickly reached for your hand and laced your fingers together, as you walked around and looked at all the various little stalls. It was busy and bustling, and everyone seemed to be in a good mood today; funny what the first nice day in the spring could do.

Jack was the type of man that loved to show you off, but there was also a part of him that was fiercely protective, never possessive, over you. It comes from years as an agent; a tried and practiced thing. 

Whenever someone would stop the two of you, he'd always make sure you were front and center, getting all the attention you deserved. Today, in your new yellow sundress, that was no exception. There was something about today, how radiant and happy you looked, how kind and gentle you were, that set something off in him. Suddenly, as he watched you pick out some fresh oranges and apples from one of the stalls, he knew he had the answer to the question that had been on his mind. 

“Honey?” you turned back to him, finding him watching you with a dopey little grin on his face. You held out your hand to him, and Jack wasted no time in coming over and taking, effortlessly entwining your fingers, “what’s wrong, Jack?”

“Nothing’s wrong at all, Sugar,” he pressed a kiss to the side of your head before taking the large tote filled with fresh fruits from you, ever the gentleman. You used to try and fight him on little things like that, insisting that you were more than capable of doing things on your own, but it was always useless. Eventually you learned not to argue with your cowboy. 

“You’re just awfully quiet today is all,” you squeezed his hand in a sign of reassurance to let him know that everything was okay, “you can tell me anything, right?”

“Of course,” he stopped suddenly so he was facing you, a half smile on his handsome features. After studying your features in his aviators for a moment, you gently pushed them to the top of his head before leaving in to give him a gentle, saccharine kiss. When you pulled back, you found a light tinge of pink creeping into his cheeks, “whatever was that for?”

‘Just because,” you shrugged lightly before taking his hand again and tugging on it for him to follow, “I love you, Jack.”

“I love you too,” he shook his head at your playfulness but both knew the words were true. You’d both been jaded in different ways throughout your lives, but this was the one thing you were sure about. You really did love him more than anything - and he you.

»»————-　♡　————-««

You clutched onto your drink, or rather what was left of the smooth, honeyed whiskey, before turning to Jack and setting the glass down. You found Jack staring into the roaring fire across from you, his expression suggesting that a lot was going through his mind. 

You were across the small fire pit from him, the one he had lovingly built in the background for cool nights just like this and let out a small sigh. His drink wasn’t even touched and he’d hardly said more than a word or two the whole evening, leaving you to do most of the talking yourself.

“Alright, Jack, this is enough,” you stood up and flounced over to him, and sat down next to him, “what’s going on, Jack? Ever since this afternoon at the market, you’ve gone practically silent. It’s not like you, honey. I-is it something I did? Are you upset with me?”

“No, no, no it’s nothing like that at all, sugar,” he promised as he turned to you, a worried expression on his own face, “I am far from upset, or anything else for that matter. I’ve just had a lot on my mind today - lately.”

“What’s going on? I can help…” you watched with worried eyes as he stood up and moved in front of you, a thoughtful expression on his face as his hands dove into his pockets, “Jack?”

“We’ve been together for a long time now,” he started as you swallowed the lump in your throat, “honestly, it seems like there wasn’t any time in which I didn’t know you. It feels like we’ve always been together…”

“Oh my God,” you looked at him with pouted lips and a worried expression in your eyes, “you’re breaking up with me, aren’t you?”

“What on earth...how...no, Sugar, I am absolutely not breaking up with you or anything of the sort,” he quickly insisted and you relaxed at his reassurance. Then why was he so...off today?

“Then what’s…”

“I love you more than anything,” he reminded you, and your heart fluttered in your chest as you nodded slowly, “and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and only you. I don’t know a lot, but that is one thing I do know.”

“I want that too,” the corners of your mouth turned up into that brilliant smile that still made Jack weak in the knees. Radiant and golden as ever as nervous butterflies fluttered about his stomach; he was sure you would be able to hear the nervous beating of his heart, “you’re my one, Jack.”

“And you are mine, Sugar,” he slowly kneeled, almost eye level with you as he got down on one knee and reached back into his pocket. Suddenly you knew - all the quiet moments, the little secret he seemed to be hiding, all the extra declarations of love, it all made sense now. Your lip trembled with effort as you tried not to cry then and there. He reached for your left hand and gently held it in his, “I have never been more sure of anyone or anything, but I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I want to build and grow our family together, all of it - I want it with you.”

“Oh honey…” you looked into those soft brown eyes and found that they were glossy with tears as well, “I...love you so much. I want everything with you too. Only you.”

“Well then I just have one very important question to ask you,” he slipped his free hand into his pocket and pulled out a black velvet box. He made quick work of displaying the beautiful ring inside. You looked between the ring and him, hardly able to believe this was happening, “Sugar, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife and allowing me to be your husband?”

“Yes - yes,” you nodded as he slipped the ring onto your finger. He studied your face for a moment before delicately wiping away your tears, after which you put your hands on the sides of his face and pulled him in for a gentle kiss, “of course I’ll marry you, Jack. Yes, yes, yes, a million times yes.”

“And just like that, you continue to make me the happiest man in the world,” he scooped you up in his arms and spun you around as he held onto you tightly, “I love you so much, Sugar.”

“I love you too, Jack,” you whispered against his lips, “tell me what finally made you ask? Was it the dress? I always knew yellow was your favorite!”

“Of course not, darlin’,” he laughed lightly, “it was all you - the dress was just an added bonus. How lucky I must be to have the privilege of getting to gaze upon such beauty everyday.”

“And what about me?” you asked in response, “I must be pretty lucky as well. I get you all to myself, the best man, and soon I get to call you my husband.”

“I suppose that makes us a pair of lucky fools,” he mused as you beamed at him, “what do you say we do inside and grab some champagne to celebrate? Just the two of us for now, before we tell the world.”

“I love the sound of that,” you agreed, “this is perfect.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[dreary-rain]

The Storm Protects (Ch.1)

Continuation of this post

Venti/Aether

Warnings: angst, violence, injuries (full tags on AO3)

Find the full story here

The sky was cloudless as Aether strolled through Mondstadt, Paimon floating at his side. He stopped by the Adventurer’s Guild and chatted with Katheryne about upcoming commissions. After waving hello to Donna, Aether slipped inside Angel’s Share. It was a bit too early for the regular crowd, but there were a few people scattered around.

“Diluc!” Aether greeted with a smile. The redhead glanced up from where he was cleaning a glass.

“Aether, good to see you. How are you?” Diluc asked and set the glass down.

“No greeting for Paimon?” Paimon asked and crossed her arms. Aether shook his head with a smile and sat down at the bar.

“I didn’t forget about you,” Diluc said with a smile. “How are you, Paimon?”

“Paimon is doing great! But it would be better if you had something to eat.”

“Of course,” Diluc said and reached under the bar, pulling out a plate of food. Paimon’s eyes lit up, and she turned her attention to eating.

“Thank you,” Aether glanced back at Diluc. “I’m feeling better. It’s been a rough few weeks.”

“I can imagine. What brings you here?”

“I just wanted to see you. Well, I did have a question and a request, but that can wait.”

“By all means, go ahead. I’ll listen.”

“Well, in that case…” Aether cleared his throat and looked down. “Do you know what happened to… to the… to the Fatui who…”

“Ah, them.” Diluc saved Aether from having to spell it out. Aether had faced a dragon, fought a Harbinger, and fallen from the Jade Chamber, but nothing had brought him closer to death than his slip-up with the Fatui agents. Even now, he had trouble believing he had almost been killed by mere Fatui. But there had been plenty of strange occurrences that day. Battle after battle in a relatively peaceful area in Liyue was rather unusual. It was almost like his day had been planned by someone else so that Aether would be too exhausted to fend off the Fatui.

But why? Aether didn’t want to consider the possibility that not only the attack itself, but the entire day was planned just to kidnap him.

“I’m surprised you aren’t already aware. They were found dead at the Stone Gate.”

“Dead?” Aether looked up in shock. “That’s the first I’ve heard. And right where I was ambushed…”

“Well, it’s been two weeks since it happened, but you were still on bed rest. We didn’t want to alarm you while you were healing.”

“I understand. But who…” Aether stopped. “Diluc, did you—?”

“No. It wasn’t me. Someone got to the bastards before I could,” Diluc said bitterly. “Don’t look so surprised. Half of Mondstadt would kill for you.”

Aether looked down and clasped his hands in his lap. He stole a glance at Paimon, but she was too engrossed in her food to be paying attention. Aether knew what Diluc said was true, but it was still unnerving. Why would they go to such lengths for Aether? He wasn’t from Teyvat. He was an outsider, an outlander, someone who didn’t belong. He didn’t deserve the kindness and protection of so many.

“You don’t need to go to such lengths.”

“There’s no necessity of it. We want to protect you, and anyone who lays a hand on you will suffer.” Diluc rested his palms on the bar and leaned forward. “Let’s say it were Venti who was almost killed. To what lengths would you go to keep him safe and hurt those who dared harm him?”

Unconsciously, Aether tensed. If someone harmed Venti… Aether would kill them. Morals aside, no one would touch Venti and live. In his mind’s eye, Aether saw La Signora plunging her hand into Venti’s chest, stealing his Gnosis and then kicking him aside like trash.

Aether didn’t trust himself to speak, but Diluc saw the murderous expression on his face. If Aether ever saw La Signora again, he would end her with his own two hands.

“Do you understand now?” Diluc asked, and Aether nodded, taking a breath to relax. He was safe, Venti was safe, and La Signora was nowhere near either of them.

Uncurling his hands, he rubbed his palms to soothe the crescents his nails had left. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make the mood so sullen.”

“No worries. Now, I hate to cut this short, but business will be picking up soon,” Diluc said with a glance at the door. Aether quickly stood.

“I won’t bother you much longer. But I did have a request. I’d like to purchase a bottle of dandelion wine.”

Diluc raised a brow. “You’re underage.”

Aether resisted the urge to facepalm. If only Diluc knew that he and his twin were older than everyone in Mondstadt combined.

“It’s not for me. I have a guest coming over tonight and I’d like to treat him.”

“That’s what they all say,” Diluc shook his head, but there was a smile on his lips as he opened the cabinet behind him.

“Come on, Paimon. Time to go.” Aether slid enough mora to Diluc and took the bottle of wine. Paimon thanked Diluc for the food, and then they went to leave.

“Say hello to Venti for me,” Diluc said as goodbye. “And tell him to pay his tab or I’ll stop serving him.”

“He’ll weasel free drinks from your patrons if that does occur,” Aether laughed. “But I’ll remind him.”

“Take care, Aether.”

The sun was nearing the horizon as Aether walked home. The shadows were long, but Aether made a point of avoiding them. He always made sure to make it home before dark.

In worlds past, it had always been Lumine who was afraid of the dark. Aether would tease her about it, but he’d always make sure to leave a light on at night. Now, the roles were reversed. Aether couldn’t stand the dark, not without being reminded of his near death experience. He wouldn’t travel at night anymore, making sure to be in a safe place before falling asleep.

Meanwhile, Lumine was at home in the darkness of the Abyss. Aether wondered if she ever thought of him, or if she was so dead set on her goals that he was an afterthought. Would Aether have ever seen her if he hadn’t traveled with Dain? Aether was tempted to track down the Abyss Herald just to see her again. He would brave the terror-inducing energy of the domain housing the inverted statue just to see her again. He would fall into the darkness of the Abyss just to find her again, to beg that she come home with him.

But if their roles were reversed, would Lumine do the same? Aether didn’t want to know the answer. The bitter sadness that was left from her abrupt departure was too much to sort through.

“Aether, cheer up! Paimon knows you’re thinking about your sister again, but it’ll be okay. We’ll find her again, don’t you worry,” Paimon broke Aether out of his thoughts.

“You’re right. It may take some time, but we’ll find her,” Aether said with a small smile. There was no use dwelling on Lumine now, not when Aether needed to get ready for his guest.

Ever since the incident three weeks ago, Aether had been staying in an apartment in Mondstadt. Even though he had his teapot, Aether felt safer in Mondstadt, surrounded by people he loved. He didn’t want to burden anyone by asking them to join him in his teapot realm, but he was too lonely by himself. He couldn’t bear being alone. What if something happened and he was all by himself again?

Diluc had offered Aether his city apartment for as long as he needed to recover, but Aether had initially turned down the offer. It wasn’t until he’d been cooking in his teapot mansion and accidentally cut himself chopping vegetables that he reconsidered the offer. The sudden sting of pain and the blood welling on his fingers had sent Aether into such a panic that Paimon had found him huddled on the ground in the kitchen minutes later. It was at Paimon’s firm suggestion that Aether moved into Diluc’s apartment.

Aether made it to the apartment, walking up the stairs to his door. To his surprise, the door was unlocked. That was cause for alarm. Aether always locked the door when he left.

But he was in the middle of Mondstadt, and it wasn’t even night yet. Besides, there were two others who had keys to the apartment. One being its owner, Diluc, and the other being…

“Ehe, hello Aether. I may have let myself in,” Venti said from beside the stove. He was cooking dinner. Aether heaved a sigh of relief. It was just Venti. While hanging up his cape and scarf, Aether noticed Venti’s hat on the coat rack and his shoes at the base.

“It’s no problem. I’m going to change into something more comfortable. I wasn’t expecting you this early,” Aether said while pulling his gloves off.

“I know, but I wanted to treat you with dinner tonight. My food is quite tasty when I cook it right.”

“Well, thank you. I brought you dandelion wine. Diluc says hello, but wants you to pay your tab or he’ll cut you off.” Aether placed the wine on the table while Paimon floated over to Venti to help with the food. Well, she probably just wanted to sneak some food from the bard.

“That Mister Diluc always threatens me, but he always serves me reluctantly.” Venti stirred the contents of the pot. “Thank you for the gift. Which reminds me, I brought you something, though it’s a bit makeshift. I’ll bring something adequate next time.”

“Don’t stress yourself out. I’ll appreciate anything you give me. Now, I’ll be back. Don’t burn the house down in the meantime.”

Venti clutched his shirt in mock hurt. “Aether, you wound me.”

Aether just smiled and closed his bedroom door. He summoned his sword and hung it on the wall, then rummaged through his dresser for more casual clothes. When he was done, he joined Venti at the table.

“One Archon special coming right up!” Venti placed a plate full of food in front of Aether and Paimon.

“Is it just Paimon or does this look like a Sweet Madame?”

“Ehe.” Venti rubbed the back of his head and sat across from Aether. “It’s one of the few recipes I can make myself.”

“Well, it’s better than Zhongli. I’m not sure he even knows how to cook rice,” Aether pointed out. “He’ll lecture you all day long on the proper way to prepare rice for different meals, but I bet he wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“He’d be stuck the moment he needs to buy ingredients. That blockhead never changes,” Venti agrees.

“For being the god of Mora, Zhongli never seems to have any. Ironic, isn’t it?” Paimon said, eliciting laughs from Aether and Venti.

“Jokes aside, this tastes really good, Venti,” Aether complimented sincerely.

“Why, thank you. I try.”

Aether washed their plates when they were done. The sun had gone down, the sky painted in shades of red and pink fading into blue.

“Paimon, could you make sure all of the candles are lit?”

“No need to fret. I lit them before we met,” Venti assured while pouring himself wine. “Come sit back down and I’ll give you your gift.”

Aether sat beside Venti, who placed a flower pot on the table.

“Flowers?”

“Dandelions!” Venti said, gesturing to the Anemo-colored puffs. “They grow where there is gentle wind, and in Mondstadt they grow without end. While freedom is our creed, I think these little ones will love it here.”

Aether stared at the dandelions, drawing the clay pot a bit closer to him.

“And, uh, also,” Venti said a bit nervously, “I thought they’d remind you of me, so that even when alone, I’ll be with you in memory.”

It was such a thoughtful gift, given the circumstances, that Aether felt unbearably happy. In lieu of a response, Aether leaned over and hugged Venti.

“Thank you,” he whispered, smiling as Venti’s arms wrapped snugly around Aether’s waist. After a moment, Aether leaned back, relishing in the way Venti’s hands lingered a moment longer than necessary.

“I’ll put them on my bedside table by the window. That way I’ll see the dandelions every time I wake up.”

Aether stood, grabbing the dandelion pot, and gestured for Venti to follow. Paimon stayed in the kitchen, munching on cookies Aether had bought earlier in the day.

After placing the dandelions beside his bed, Aether sat down and pulled the elaborate hair tie off and set it aside.

“Help me with my hair?”

“Of course!” Venti climbed onto the bed behind Aether, crossing his legs and grabbing the end of Aether’s braid. “Do you have a brush?”

“Behind you.”

Venti deftly sifted his fingers through Aether’s long, blond hair, carefully untangling any snarls. Aether swallowed, closing his eyes at the pleasant sensation.

It was moments like this that reminded Aether of his feelings for Venti. The care and kindness the god gave him made Aether feel special. Out of anyone in the world, Venti chose to spend his time with Aether. Before Aether had arrived in Teyvat, Venti hadn’t stayed in one place for too long. He had gone where the wind wanted to go, but after meeting Aether, the Archon was never out of reach.

“You like that, hmm?” Venti hummed as he combed through Aether’s hair.

“Mmhmm. You’re gentle. Lumine used to braid my hair, but she’d always pull too hard on the tangles.”

“I braid my own hair enough to know how to be gentle,” Venti said softly. Aether couldn’t see him, but he sounded like he was smiling. Fingers ran down the length of his hair. “Your hair is much longer. And softer.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were back there petting my hair,” Aether teased.

“Maybe I am. It’d be a waste not to.”

Aether opened one eye and turned his head slightly to look at Venti. He was surprised to see a serious look on Venti’s face. It was one full of contemplation.

“Venti?”

“Tell me, Aether, what do you think of me?”

Aether considered the question. The obvious answer was that he loved Venti, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. What if Venti didn’t love him back? It would ruin the friendship they’d built.

Except, when Aether thought about it, Venti didn’t treat Aether like another one of his friends. A mere friend wouldn’t come by Aether’s apartment every night, wouldn’t cook dinner and bring presents for no reason, and wouldn’t help Aether with his hair. An Archon wouldn’t abandon centuries of wandering to stay with Aether unless Aether meant something more to him. Venti hadn’t left his side since the incident with the Fatui, always checking in on him, protecting him.

Suddenly, Aether remembered his conversation with Diluc. The answer was obvious now.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” Aether mumbled. He looked at Venti, at his gaze so full of love and kindness, and realized he’d been a fool. This whole time, Venti had harbored feelings beyond friendship. Aether had been too oblivious to see it until now.

“Venti, I…” Venti perked up. Aether fought the rising blush. “I love you.”

Venti’s eyes widened, but then his lips curled into a soft smile. Venti leaned forward, eyes flicking down to Aether’s lips. Aether’s face flushed red, but he closed his eyes. Less than a moment later, Venti’s lips met his.

It was a chaste, simple kiss, but it sent tingles down Aether’s spine. Venti brought his hand up to Aether’s cheek, pulling back enough to speak.

“If the kiss didn’t convey the sentiment, I love you, Aether,” Venti said, his breath hot against Aether’s lips. “This is a bit of an awkward position, with you twisting around like that.”

As soon as he’d said it, Venti shuffled around, swinging a leg over Aether’s hips. Venti settled on his knees over Aether’s lap, forcing Aether to tilt his head up to see him.

“That’s better,” Venti said with a satisfied hum, then captured Aether’s lips in another kiss. Venti cupped Aether’s face with his hands, his lips plump against Aether’s. Venti kissed with a passion, fervent and controlled at the same time.

His right hand trailed to the nape of Aether’s neck, then tangled into his hair. With a sharp tug, Venti pulled on Aether’s hair, tilting Aether’s head at an even sharper angle. A soft gasp escaped Aether’s throat, his hands flying to steady himself on Venti’s waist.

“It’s been so long,” Venti murmured against Aether’s skin as he trailed his kisses along Aether’s jaw, “since someone has made me feel this way.”

Venti mouthed over Aether’s exposed neck, tightening the hand in his hair.

“Venti…” Aether breathed as Venti nipped at the base of his throat. His fingers curled around Venti’s waist at the sensation. He vaguely noted how small Venti’s waist was, how well it fit into Aether’s hands.

Venti’s hand fell away from Aether’s face to rest on the topmost button of Aether’s shirt. Quickly, Aether grabbed his wrist.

“Kisses are enough for now,” Aether said breathlessly. He didn’t think he could handle much more. Venti nodded, removing his hand and pressing a kiss to Aether’s cheek.

“We’ll stop here, then.” Venti brushed a strand of hair from Aether’s face. Aether noted smugly that Venti’s lips were red and slick. He looked a mess, but Aether was sure he looked worse.

“I never said no more kisses,” Aether whined as Venti slipped off of his lap.

“I know, but I don’t think it would be easy to stop if we got ourselves too worked up,” Venti explained. “But, I’ll give you all the kisses you want when I visit tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” Aether agreed with a blush and looked down. A finger tilted his chin upward.

“I love you,” Venti said with a wide smile. He giggled, kissing Aether on the forehead before walking to the bedroom door. “I’ve been waiting forever to say that.”

Aether stood to follow, a giddy smile on his own face. Venti loved him. It was as simple as that, and yet it made Aether’s heart swell with joy.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Aether promised as they walked through the kitchen. Paimon looked up from where she was sitting at the table, taking a break from floating.

She took one look at them before huffing, “Finally. Pining idiots.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Aether asked incredulously. Paimon just shook her head and took a bite out of her chocolate chip cookie.

“Goodnight, Aether,” Venti said and adjusted his hat after slipping on his shoes. “I love you.”

“You’re going to say that every time you see me, aren’t you?” Aether joked, leaving against the door frame.

“I’m a bard. I’ll come up with poetic ways to express my love once my head clears up.” Venti stood outside on the stairs. “Thank you for tonight. I left the dandelion wine. I’ll drink more next time.”

“See you tomorrow, Venti.”

“Until tomorrow.” Venti started down the stairs, then paused. “Aether, you should wear your hair down more. You look beautiful in a braid, but in the presence of your unbound hair, the beauty of the heavens fades.”

Aether blushed, pressing his lips together in embarrassment. He absentmindedly twirled his hair.

“Too much?” Venti asked sheepishly.

“I’m flattered,” Aether said. “A little embarrassed, but very flattered.”

“Hmm…” Venti‘s eyes flicked up and down Aether, then settled on his eyes. “I’ll have to make a point of flattering you. That blush suits you.”

“Venti,” Aether whined. “My heart can’t take it.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll take my leave now before I give you a heart attack.”

“See you!” Aether waved as Venti left. Then he shut the door, locking both of the deadbolts. When he entered the kitchen, Paimon was asleep at the table.

“How does someone who floats and eats all day get tired so easily?” Aether shook his head, then picked Paimon up and laid her down on her bed. She had insisted on having her own bed in the apartment, so Aether had found a child sized bed for her and placed it in the corner of his bedroom.

“Goodnight, Paimon,” Aether said. He fumbled with his shirt, hand pausing on the top button with a blush. All in due time, he thought as he changed into sleep clothes.

Aether climbed into bed, glancing at the dandelions on the bedside, and put his finger to his lips. He could still taste the dandelion wine from Venti’s lips. With a smile, Aether fell into a peaceful sleep.

“Aether!” Paimon’s high pitched scream startled Aether awake. His eyes snapped open and he shot out of the bed. It took a moment to gather his bearings, but that was enough time to recognize the danger he was in.

A hulking silhouette stood in the doorway, holding a struggling Paimon by the throat.

“Aether,” she whimpered, and Aether shot forward, reaching for his sword on the wall. He didn’t make it.

The window shattered as a man leapt inside and collided with Aether. He fell backwards from the force, his head slamming against the bedside table. The pot of dandelions toppled over with a crash. Black spots danced across Aether’s vision, but he struggled to his feet.

In such close quarters, using his Palm Vortex wasn’t the best idea, but without a sword it was his only option. Before he could use it, a gust of Anemo snuffed out the candles in the room. In the sudden darkness, Aether could make out the purple glow of the electrohammer vanguard holding Paimon, and the green of the anemoboxer in front of Aether.

Fatui. A spike of fear shot through Aether.

That moment of hesitation was all the anemoboxer needed to rush Aether, knocking him to the ground. A hand pinned him to the ground, wrapping around his throat and crushing his windpipe. Aether scrabbled at the hand, kicking to no avail.

With one hand trying to alleviate the pressure on his throat, the other lifted toward the anemoboxer in an attempt to summon his Palm Vortex. Anticipating this, the anemoboxer grabbed Aether’s wrist and twisted.

A sickening crack echoed in the room. Aether screamed and dropped his hand to the side. Despite the pain, he weakly raised his other hand, but the anemoboxer brought something out of his pocket. There was a sharp pinch on Aether’s neck, and he watched as the anemoboxer pulled an empty syringe away.

Aether tried to summon his Anemo, but nothing happened. The hand on his neck was finally gone, but his body felt lethargic. He gasped, coughing from being strangled.

“Aether,” Paimon sobbed.

“Leave the pixie. La Signora just wants the boy,” the anemoboxer told his companion. Aether heard Paimon’s scream followed by a thud. It was quiet.

Aether couldn’t fight the drowsiness forcing his eyes closed. He couldn’t move despite the panic coursing through him at the mention of La Signora. The electrohammer vanguard picked up Aether’s limp body, and he couldn’t fight back.

Aether thought Mondstadt was safe. He caught a glimpse of the soil spilled around the broken pot, the dandelions standing tall despite it.

Aether’s last waking thought was of Venti.

[captain-barnes-writes]

Someone Like You [2/6]

Summary: In which Sebastian tries to win you back a year and a half after your relationship’s rupture, but only because there’s a new man in your life. [Part two]

(Mini-series)

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Latina

Warning: Angst (lotssss), suggestive language, 18+, future chapters will include smut (just warning y'all!) NOT PROOFREAD

Word count: 1.8k

Sebastian’s steel blue eyes hardened at the sight of you in what seemed to be a music video.  Not because of you, but because you were with another man.

 You were barely clothed in flimsy delicate lingerie with your dainty hands wrapped around another man’s neck who was laying down on a crimson red bed. The screen panned out to different scenes, you on top of him peppering kisses on his face; your hands all over him with your body pinned to the bed . Other scenes had you in a jade satin bodycon dress that reached mid thigh parading around a garden full of roses hand in hand with the jerk-off face he had come to loathe within a few seconds. Why was he so greedy? He was grabbing at you like you were a piece of meat and even going as far as kissing you with obvious desperation. He couldn’t grasp the storyline, maybe the artist meant to show a video with a couple that was in love but really it seemed he was only taking this opportunity of being with you to get his hands all over you.

“That’s a Dominican bachata singer, man!I can’t believe he got her to be in one of his videos.” Anthony exclaimed to you, his voice slightly muted so the rest of the set mates wouldn’t overhear. Though they were in their own world, having their own conversations and not paying mind to the pair who were huddled at the far end of the table.

“Well, she’s Latina…” Sebastian managed to mutter under his breath. His grip on the phone was deadly and his searing eyes were wide. God, what the fuck was going on in that video? 

Thankfully your latest movie hadn’t required you to have a sex scene with your on-screen partner, just a few heated kisses that had made him squirm on his sofa when he decided to watch it. Though even those few on-screen kisses had made him feel uncomfortable and angry that his large hands had balled into fists. Is this what you had felt when you had to see him kiss other women on screen? Or even when you knew he’d been kissing women off screen, you were there. Sure, you’d shown your anger to him countless of times and even broken down into tears in front of him but he always ended up making it up to you by fucking you. He always fucked your anger and jealousy away. Now here he was eating his own words of you’re just overreacting or it’s just acting. Because it sure as hell looked more than just acting.

A whole year and a half later and you still had that earth-shattering effect on him. Fuck, you looked more than beautiful. Everywhere he looked for the last few months, there you were looking etherial and even more gorgeous than he could remember. You were as thick as he remembered, all thighs and ass. Your dark curls had grown in length and even your skin was glowing.  He knew he’d fucked up as soon as you sent that message but his ego had prevented him from fully reaching out to you again. He’d found himself on your street many times, even going as far as walking up to your apartment complex but becoming a coward and defeatedly walking back to his car. Even while dating other women, he did this. He was a coward, he knew. He was more than that, he was an imbecile.

“Video sucks ass.” Sebastian seethed, handing the phone back to Anthony who had an amused and all-knowing expression printed on his face. A smile swiftly took upon his features as he patted Sebastian on the back, laughing at full force at his friend who was obviously seething with jealousy.

“You’re so jealous, man. She still has an effect on you...never should have let her go in the first place.” Anthony shrugged, placing his phone on the wooden table and quickly taking a hold of his cold drink and sipping on it. His eyes were still glued on his friend who seemed agitated, hands fiddling and body language seemingly uncomfortable.

“Ya know it wasn’t my decision to make. She’s the one who ended things.” Sebastian said, eyes meeting his friend’s own wide ones.

“How could she not? She was obviously into you, I don’t know if you ever noticed but the girl only had eyes for you. Your commitment issues only pushed her away.” Anthony replied. Was the man blind, he thought to himself. It had been incredibly clear to him from the moment he met her, but his friend was apparently blind.

“I think you got too comfortable and she got tired of it. She was there for you and you couldn’t even give her a place in your life. Women like her deserve the whole world and it seems like she’s getting just that.”

Sebastian's eyes peered down at his fiddling hands at his friend’s words. He knew he was right, but hearing it was confirmation of the major fuck up he’d committed a year and a half ago. You did deserve the whole world and more.

“I’m going back to my room, Ant. I’ll see you tomorrow on set.” Sebastian said, placing sufficient money on the table to cover for himself and his friend. Anthony nodded when his friend patted him on the back and made his way out the.

Upon retreating back to his large hotel room, Sebastian couldn’t cope with the thoughts swirling through his head. Receiving a few texts from the pretty blonde he was currently dating made him even more agitated and he shut his phone off. He was too concentrated on thoughts of you.

He had betrayed you by not becoming fully engulfed in you, not giving you your rightful place in his life and letting you slip through his fingers without a single fighting word to stop it. No, sending roses to your place for weeks wasn’t enough after that definitive text you’d sent and neither were the meek few sentences he’d penned down on small cardstock paper trying to put a bandaid on the issue that he simply couldn’t grasp. That wasn’t enough and he knew it.

Seeing you with another man had ignited a fire within him that only you could extinguish. The more he thought about you becoming as enthralled with another man as you’d been with him was slowly enraging him, but it also brought upon a wave of anguish. You were not only an alluring woman, but also carried an aura that made everybody feel comfortable and loved. Being embasked in your very being and ambiance should have been a privilege because you were truly as perfect as anybody could get.

The more Sebastian thought, the more he kicked himself for having been so blind.

“Hard week at work?” You asked as soon as you saw Sebastian’s full frame walk into your apartment. Dark under eye circles and a sluggish walk were evidently key to figuring that he was tired. He looked the part and surely walked like it too, even his clothes were slightly disheveled.

“You have no idea, babe.” He responded back, blue eyes peering down at you as he wrapped his arms around your body. Engulfing you in a warm and much needed hug, more for him than for you it seemed as he sighed and kissed the top of your head. Your nostrils were overpowered by his strong cologne, scent of earth and peppermint as your face was planted against his strong chest.

“My poor baby.” You whispered, pulling away from him and jutting your lower lip out imitating a sad face hoping to lift his spirits with your stupid mockery. He laughed in response and pulled you in for a kiss. It was short and sweet, but really brought his spirits up.

“And it’s cold as shit outside. Almost froze to death making my way here.” He grumbled and you took notice of the cold white specks and wet marks on his jacket. It was snowing outside.

“Come on.” You said, pulling him into the living room by his hands and having him sit on the couch. “For someone from Romania, you sure are a wimp when it comes to the cold.”

“Hey,” he laughed loudly, not even offended at the jab. “I’m all over the place nowadays, guess I gotta get used to New York again.”

You grabbed hold of his hands and sure enough they were cold. Bringing his hands to face-level caused Sebastian to stare at you. You started to gently blow on his hands, pepper kisses on the knuckles and upon flesh on top of the hands. It was a small gesture, but he found himself dumbfounded at why you were so kind to him. And he also found himself feeling conflicted with his feelings again. He was also feeling pangs of remorse as he remembered his short rendezvous with a different woman only a few days ago. It had only involved a few kisses and a quick blowjob, but staring at you in front of him did something to him to feel such regret.

“What are you doing?”

“Warming you up, dimwit, can’t you tell?” You replied, pulling away from his hands and proceeding to use the fleshy lips that had been on his hands only mere seconds ago and kiss his cold cheek.

“You’re an ass.” Sebastian grinned and his lips joined yours in a kiss, running his hands through your array of dark curls and pulling you closer. This was why he was here. The mere comfort of your warm body did things to him he couldn’t explain. It was your hands running through his hair, the way your eyes lit up as they stared at his, long lashes peering up at him and lips engulfed on his very being.

All too soon you pulled away from his tight grasp and stared at him with wide eyes. It was awfully cold.

“I’m gonna make some hot chocolate. I can’t even kiss you without shivering, Seb. You’re too cold.”

“You have a whole heater in this apartment and you tried to warm me up by blowing and kissing my hands first?” He said, grinning at your reddening cheeks at the sudden realization that indeed your apartment had a heating system and you’d been too enthralled in him to even remember.

“Shut up.” You laughed, placing your hands on your face in embarrassment.

It wasn’t even one of the most memorable moments you’d created together, but Sebastian’s memory had taken him to that snowy day for some reason. You were the first person he went to see upon landing back in New York. On that snowy day, in particular, after a long week of work only you could make him laugh and feel at home. You’d even tried to warm him up yourself instead of turning on the damn heater. He’d been so dense back then to the true nature of your feelings for him, and his own as well. It had been so obvious. All your actions were so obvious.

He was kicking himself the more he drowned himself in his thoughts.

(To be continued)

-----

Let me know what you think! Hope to post the next chapter tomorrow. 

[wuxian-vs-wangji]

NSFN Headcanons: MDZS Forced Orgasm

Surprisingly, the hardest part was getting Lan Wangji to play properly.

He was so aggressive whenever he and Wei Wuxian made love- something Wuxian thoroughly enjoyed.

Lan Wangji would tie Wei Wuxian up using his forehead ribbon or even the red silk in Wei Ying’s hair.

While Wuxian pretended to struggle and plead, Wangji would open him with expert strokes of his finger and shove his burning length inside.

He could delay Wei Wuxian’s release as long as he wanted- hours even. Lan Wangji often waited until Wei Ying was hoarse before he drove his hips at just the right angle for his cock to strike against that knot deep inside his husband.

It was just as common for Lan Wangji to not relent after Wei Wuxian came- to fuck him until he’d gone numb, regained feeling, and then went numb again.

But once Wangji was sated and he and Wuxian had each come twice or so, they would be finished. Wangji would help clean Wuxian up if his legs weren’t working right and then they would fall asleep, wrapped around one another.

That was all well and good- but what Wuxian wanted to try was something different. Something perhaps too lewd for the righteous and proper Lan Wangji to try.

Or so he thought.

One day, without warning, Wangji grabbed Wuxian as the other made to pass him. With deft and practiced motions he undid his forehead ribbon and tightly bound Wuxian’s hands behind his back.

But he had more ties in the sleeves of his robes.

At first Wuxian made his normal range of pleas and false protests, but when Wangji grabbed his legs and tied the knees to the crooks of his elbows- pinning him open with no ability to cover himself at all- Wuxian’s interests were piqued. 

“It is two hours until the resting hour,” Lan Wangji’s voice was as serious as if he were reciting the Lan Clan rules. “I will stop touching you then. Only then.”

"What are you-” Wuxian cried out as Lan Wangji- the proper and righteous Hanguang-Jun- lowered his head between his husband’s legs and began to suck at his cock.

It was such an alluring sight- and so wholly unexpected, that Wei Wuxian did not last long before he was warning Wangji to move his mouth away.

Wangji did no such thing- Wei Wuxian certainly never minded his own warnings- and coughed as he forced himself to swallow the release.

But he didn’t stop.

Wangji moved his mouth to Wei Wuxian’s nipples, where he bit and licked with uncharacteristic tenderness. The pain of his bites usually helped keep Wei Wuxian pinned to the edge. 

Wangji was gentle though, as he stroked Wuxian and licked at his skin until his bound husband once again stiffened, seized, and a while later came.

Wuxian was shaking now. “Lan Zhan, that’s enough for me. You should feel good too.”

“It is one hour and thirty minutes until the resting hour,” Lan Wangji responded.

He moved his lips to Wuxian’s neck next- another area where his husband was sensitive.

The hand on his cock never stopped stroking. Those long, jade-white fingers teased the head of his cock as Wuxian moaned and shivered.

It took longer this time, but Wangji drew a rare third release from him- then left it to splash across Wei Ying’s chest, joining the last release.

Wangji’s fingers probed his hole. Wuxian tried to protest, but Wangji wouldn’t hear it.

Any time Wuxian tried to invite Wangji inside him or went on one of his shameless and obscene little rants, Wangji only told him the time and continued to play.

Wangji’s fingers were the only part of him to enter Wei Ying. He massaged the rosebud between Wei Wuxian’s legs until it opened to his touch.

With two fingers inside of him and a hand around Wuxian’s cock, Lan Wangji drew an unprecedented fourth release (this one was largely dry).

By now, Wuxian was barely able to form words. His body was drenched in sweat, his skin burned, and all he could do was let out shouts of pleasure or pain as he was stimulated beyond anything he’d felt before.

Three fingers made him scream and seize up- a second dry release in a row. 

Each time it was a little harder to force the next one out, but Wangji was determined.

He forced a fourth finger in carefully, reached as deep as he could, and massaged the knot he’d been teasing.

Wei Ying screamed loudly enough for his voice to echo through the bamboo forests of Cloud Recess. Surely this time it would be heard by everyone on the mountain.

Wangji only ripped the sash off his discarded robes and shoved it in Wei Ying’s mouth.

The other was too far gone to notice either way.

He flailed and screamed in ecstasy as Wangji’s hand managed to force another orgasm through his body.

“Fifteen minutes,” Lan Wangji whispered to the quivering lump of sweat that his husband had been reduced to.

He turned his hand, and Wei Ying’s eyes bulged as Wangji’s open fist slid into his body. He could barely breathe as each hard knuckle scraped through his insides, until Wangji felt the knot bumping over his hand.

Lan Wangji grabbed Wuxian’s head with his free hand and took a fistful of hair to force his husband to look down at where they were joined.

To see only a muscled forearm- so much larger than anything Wei Wuxian had ever tried to take- emerging from his ass.

Wangji pulled out only a couple of inches. He was slow, careful.

He pushed it back in.

Those gold eyes burned at the inhuman sound Wei Wuxian made as he struggled to breathe around the impossible invader within him.

Wangji withdrew and thrust again with his fist, easing Wuxian into it.

If Wei Ying had taken Wangji’s length, the release would either be forced out around the arm or even deeper into Wuxian than it usually went.

Somewhere in his fractured mind, Wuxian registered this thought. It made him shiver and curl his toes.

When Wangji felt the smallest of movements encouraging him, he began to make longer and more forceful thrusts.

He cupped Wei Ying’s neck to hold his limp head as Wangji’s own dipped back down to the growing cock between Wuxian’s legs.

He pumped with his arm faster and harder.

His lips wrapped around Wuxian’s shaft and Lan Zhan took him deep into his throat. 

Wuxian’s screams- muffled and hoarse as they already were- filled Wangji’s ear and added fire to his blood.

He taunted him with fist and tongue in tandem, never relenting as his head bobbed and his arm thrust over and over again- harder and harder.

Wuxian’s body nearly lifted off the ground with the force of his climax.

He clenched down so hard on Wangji’s arm that Lan Zhan felt a bit of pain.

He shot a few ropes of release into Wangji’s throat- this time they were carefully and elegantly swallowed.

Wangji didn’t stop until Wuxian’s muscles snapped and he abruptly went limp.

At that point, Wangji withdrew his arm- streaked in white froth from Wuxian’s insides- and quickly undid the bindings.

There would be bruises, but Wei Ying’s core was strong. They would fade quickly.

Wei Ying couldn’t open his eyes anymore. Not even as Wangji took back his forehead band and removed the sash from his husband’s mouth.

Wuxian was unseeing, unhearing. 

He shivered endlessly as his burning skin began to cool.

Wangji scooped him up and carried him gently to the washbasin. 

The only sounds Wuxian made as his husband cleaned him were pathetic whimpers as the cloth brushed across his aching hole, his wilted member, or his oversensitive nipples.

Wangji washed away the release from Wuxian’s chest carefully.

His husband was beyond words, but he managed to lightly tug at Wangji’s arm.

Wei Ying’s grip wouldn’t be enough to even hold the cleaning rag, but Wangji let his bare arm be drawn forward to the water. Wuxian barely stroked it with his fingers- bidding Wangji to wash himself as well.

Wangji turned his head and kissed him.

Wei Ying accepted the tongue inside his mouth, then whimpered again.

Wangji could read his meaning in the sound- he thought Wangji meant to force another release.

After so many already, Wangji could imagine how painful it might be for Wuxian to be touched so soon. He would be sensitive to the point of feeling raw.

“No more,” Wangji whispered. “Not tonight. Tomorrow.”

It was a threat and a promise to Wei Ying’s ears.

His heart raced just a bit faster in fear, even as his mind was rapidly losing hold on consciousness.

Another night. Another two hours of Wangji using every trick he could think of to force as many releases as he could from Wei Ying’s increasingly unwilling body.

Wei Ying shivered as Wangji’s arms wrapped around him and he gently lifted him from the tub.

As he toweled him dry, and carried him to their bed, all Wei Ying could think of was living through all of that again.

If not for the excellent attentions of his husband, Wei Wuxian would have gone hard once more.

He couldn’t imagine anything better.

[sheerbeautyreigns]

SECRET

Part 40

"You need to understand, there are concequences when you talk back to me."

Joe perched against the bench with his arms folded, watching as Jade stripped off. Once fully exposed, she stood holding her hands in front of her with her head slightly bowed. He moved towards her slowly. For the first time, she felt intimidated by him. “You look nervous.” He observed from behind. “Are you?”

“No Sir.” She told him, nodding her head. “You do remember the rules, don’t you?” He continued to circle her slowly. “Yes Sir.”

“Be honest with me.” He tilted her chin up so she was now looking him in the eye. She swallowed “It’s just been a while since...”

“Go on.” He simply said “Since I’ve been in a dungeon.”

“I understand. Does it trigger something in you...from the past?” He asked, continuing to circle her. “Yes Sir. Memories I wish I could let go of.” He sweeped her hair off to the side and kissed her neck gently. “It’ll be different this time. I love you and I want you to feel fulfilled.” She nuzzled against him as his hand ran over her ass. He gently motioned her closer to the spanking bench. She climbed onto it carefully, in a crawling position, her bare flesh resting against the padded leather. He went about restraining her hands to the front of the unit using the attached leather straps. Her ankles were next. As he did this, he couldn’t notice how wet her pussy was as it lay exposed and spread before him. “You’re so wet baby girl. You can’t hide how much this turns you on.”

“No Sir.” She blushed with a small smile. Being restrained turned her on so much. She loved being helpless. Vulnerable. She looked over her shoulder as he opened the cabinet nearby. “Eyes front.” He said firmly leading her to quickly obey. The door closed again. She could hear his growing closer to the back of the bench again. She heard the swishing motions come into play. She knew immediately that he was holding a flogger. The first strike. Not too hard, the second strike was more noticeable. He clearly wanted a reaction out of her. She flinched, tensing her body. A sly grin crossed his face before he struck again. She tensed again, this time wincing. “You’ll get used to it, the more we practice.” He assured her, gently palming the pinkening flesh of her buttocks. “Another?”

“Yes please Sir.” He struck again, if a little harder. She winced louder this time. He ignored it, striking again with similar intensity. “Aow!” He set the flogger aside and stroked along her slick pussy. A soft moan of relief filled the room. “Please Sir.“

“What do you want?” He asked huskily, rubbing her hard. “Please fuck me.” She begged. He smirked, moving to her front, tilting her chin up to face him. “Whatever my baby girl wants...” He trailed off. She heard him move further off. Moments later, he returned. “Open up.” Before she could register what was in his hand, he forced a ring gag in just behind her teeth. She moaned aloud and struggled against the restraints. “Hold still.” He instructed fastening the buckle at the back of her head. She calmed a little but not much. She looked up at his wide eyed as he discarded his house coat and lowered his black boxers, allowing his hard cock to spring out. Firstly, he inserted two fingers into her mouth, coating them in saliva, lubricating around her mouth. He then started inserting the head of his cock. Her moans became muffled, the more he penetrated her. She started to strain again, shutting her eyes. “Baby, it’s OK. It’s just me. I’m not gonna hurt you.” He held her head firmly. She tried to relax her body. Slowly, he began to fuck her mouth. Gasps escaped her each time he pulled out, as did inaudible moans and groans. “Good girl. You’re doing good.” She visibly struggled less once he praised her. “That’s it. Perfect.” He started to increase in speed a little more. He had to ease her into this again. This was enough for him and evidently her. “So good.” He moaned looking down at her again, winking at her. He could see the smile in her eyes. She spluttered at he came in the back of her throat. “That’s it, swallow.” He instructed watching as she strained against the gag. Moments later he took the gag out. Her head dropped, as did trails of saliva and cum. Reaching to the side, he pulled out a wipe and cleaned her mouth. “Dirty girl.” He smirked at her smile. She watched as he unbuckled her wrist restraints and then freed her ankles. Extending his hand, he helped her up. “I think that’s enough for now. It’s still early. Let’s relax.” He slipped into his boxers and draped his cosy house coat over her. “Thank you Sir.” He kissed her forehead and scooped up her clothes from the floor before going up to the living room.

Joe switched on the Christmas tree lights and pulled out a bottle of red wine and two glasses from the drinks cabinet. Jade made herself comfortable on the sofa and watched as he poured their drinks. “Cheers baby.” Their glasses clinked as he lowered next to her, draping his arm around her shoulder. “Was I OK?” Jade asked looking up at him. “Always perfect. I’m not finished with you though.” He took a sip of his wine. “I know.” She nodded her head, taking a sip herself. At that moment Joe’s phone, which had been sat on the arm rest next to him, vibrated and lit up with a photo of Briana. He scrambled to stop it ringing put knocked it on the floor, spilling his red wine on the carpet. “Fuck!” He cursed, sitting forward, setting his almost empty glass on the coffee table while Jade moved away. “Get me some towels.” He ordered, rising to his feet. She scurried off into the kitchen while he grabbed his phone and muted the call. She rushed back in and handed him a roll. “I just put this down earlier this year.” He exclaimed, snapping the roll out of her hand. She looked at him shocked and backed away a little as he proceeded to pat down the mess. A strange feeling hit her stomach when she saw how worked up he had become over something so small. “Go and get me the carpet cleaning spray under the sink.” She scowled at him for a half a second before disappearing off again. Again, he snapped it out of her hand.

“You know, you don’t have to be such an ass-“ She stopped herself immediately as he stopped doing what he was doing and looked up at her. Slowly he rose to his feet. “What was that?” He looked menacing, towering over her. “I’m sorry but there’s no need to be so snappy with me.” She defended herself. “You’re talking back to me. Like a brat.”

“No I’m not. I just think-“ he cut her off. “It doesn’t matter what you think. Do you understand?” She backed up a little, cowering in front of him. “If you can’t realise your place in this relationship, you will learn.” He said firmly before grabbing her arm. “Aow.” She winced as he escorted her back towards the dungeon. “You need some time out to reflect.”

“I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.” She apologised as they descended the stairs. He took the house coat off her hastily leading her to fold her arms across her bare chest. Something in her didn’t want Joe to be treated to the sight of her breasts again.

“You think you’re clever?” He knew what she was doing. She stood in wait, watching ax he went to the wardrobe. She swallowed as pulled out a length of rope and returned. He positioned her hands do they were in a praying position behind her back.

“ I was going to save the rope for another time but now’s as good time as any.” She wasn’t going to fight him. She knew she deserved to be punished. Instead she stood there, stone faced as he tied the rope into a harness over her upper body. It focused on drawing more attention to the breasts she had tried to hide. She stared straight ahead as he fondled them. He then moved her towards the spanking bench and forced her to bend over the mid section, head against the leather padding. “Stay.” He instructed. She heard him open and close a drawer.

Seconds later she felt his fingers glide along her pussy. “I knew you’d be wet.” She could hear the smile in his voice. He was clearly enjoying this. “Admit it. You like this.” She shut her eyes. “Yes Sir.” Followed by a gasp as he slicked on the cold, gel like lubricant. Her body tensed as he glowly began to penetrate her with the dildo he held in the palm of his hand. “What are you doing?” She asked in panic as he slowly screwed it in. Her tense walls closed in around it. “Preparing you. If you’re deserving, I’ll fuck you when I’m ready.” It was fully in. He made quick work of securing it in, tying more rope around her waist and over the crotch. She winced and shifted with discomfort as he pulled her up. “Bet that feels nice and full.”

“Yes Sir.” She couldn’t look at him. She was too embarrassed. “You know, I don’t want to do this but...you need to understand that there are consequences when you talk back to me. I’ll fill one of your holes as I see fit. Maybe two. Understand?”

“Yes Sir.” Her eyes eventually met his. “Now let’s go back upstairs.

[quinn-tessence]

Nocturne for a Clown

Part 3

Summary: you're tormented by the realization Arthur is the killer clown on the news, yet no bone in your body feels any different for him. Not even Casanova's advances could sway your from wanting to hold Arthur in your arms and alleviate his sorrow. He's had a bad day, and retreats on your couch, broken and confused.

Length: 5k words

Warnings: mentions of murder, lack of remorse, guilt and grief, seeking comfort where he'd never had it from. Smut with dear Arthur that could cause a rush of tremors, be warned. 🤭❤

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You sat and watched. Then watched and watched some more. There were no words, no voice, no sound coming through your gaping mouth as the skin on your lips almost started to crack. It made sense. The blood, the bruise, the liberating sex, the wretched guilt. Oh God, what has he done?, you repeated in his voice over and over, that impossible puzzle putting itself together before you as you hid your gouging eyes underneath heavy, sweaty palms in a much too similar reflex to his own.

What has he done? He'd been beaten down surely, given his frail nature you could see how he'd be fluent in being at the receiving end, but as grievous as the thought was, it made it no less valid. This was bad, he’d land straight into Arkham if you picked up that phone to call the authorities, the way a considerate citizen would, as if Gotham deserved any at all. But you weren't one of them, were you? Never had you really fit in, yet you tried for the sake of appearances, it had become so burdening of late, only the thought of Arthur could provide the comfort you'd been seeking.

The news reports kept blaring, yet all your compassion overflowed for the clown, had you been able to see things objectively you'd still think he was hero. Three fewer assholes in Gotham, only a million more to go, you heard an inner voice say, even if you knew that was enough reason to throw you into the depths of Arkham Asylum. You'd sadly known that place from family, and you never wanted to set foot in that Tartarus again, but perhaps the apple didn't fall far from the tree. You couldn't stomach the thought of Arthur sitting opposite the glass wall from you, so dozed up on sedatives he'd hardly even recognize you. No, no, no. You wouldn't let that happen, and yet he'd need his own time and space to process.

You resisted the urge to bang on his door and ask for a full account, it felt as if you were a passenger on a derailing, speeding train. Regardless of how breathtaking the turquoise water under the rails, your gut wrenched at the thought of plunging into it head first. You were a decent swimmer, but you knew you’d be incapable of fighting those waters from swallowing you whole. You'd just given yourself to him, entirely and shamelessly, and regret was nowhere in sight. Had you been the forth prey of his killing spree, he would have killed you already. Yet he did the exact opposite, in distress and quivering like a leaf, but it was your door he opened after his rupture. He trusted you to keep this secret for him. And you welcomed the trust.

Within a few days you noticed you'd returned to your bad habit of unconscious nails biting. As if the deafening tumult between your temples wasn't enough, you also had to self flagellate as you desperately waited in silence.

You were busy enough at work, and the newest addition to your team had become daring enough to invade your private space little by little. Tall. Lean. Broad shouldered. Curly caramel hair and eyes of obsidian, winking at you shamelessly each time he passed by you. Patrick was a force in his field, yet he rolled his eyes and tongued his cheek whenever you'd call on him for a task, as if wanting to taunt you. Quite quirky and unprofessional, but restrictive enough to question yourself if you were merely projecting. Not once had he failed to deliver, on the contrary, yet that sly attitude never left him. Hm. The distraction was welcome, but it was nothing more. You'd catch yourself staring through him, picturing sparkling emeralds and cocoa, having to snap yourself back to reality before he'd think it was him you were aching for just like all your infatuated colleagues.

He must have checked with your giggly girlfriends before casually slipping in an invitation to your favorite bar after hours, casual drinks with a few colleagues, of course. Perhaps you should have politely declined, but you needed the respite from the heart wrenching torment, even if just for a few hours.

As empty as the venue was, he insisted on strolling in your visual field, intriguingly charming, maybe a bit too charismatic. It was time to maintain a level of dignity with your colleagues and remove yourself before getting into a state where you'd find yourself in Arthur's apartment, this time fully conscious. Yet Patrick gallantly offered to drive you over, posing a certain concern for your safety alone in the streets with a murdering clown on the loose. HA! You giggled at the joke being on him, silently talking to yourself. No thank you, you rascal, protection from that clown is the last thing I need. He insisted on paying for the taxi at least, and you’d had two drinks and wanted to be home already.

The thunderstorm washed the streets rapidly as you entered your building. You loved ravenous thunderstorms, especially as they traversed the sky over your cozy apartment bathed in lily scent. You took comfort in the hot shower and the chilly air in the room, lightning bolts clearing up the sky for a flash of a second as you wrapped yourself in the bathrobe, ready for Murray's dry humor.

Oh God! Your heart leapt to your throat as a soaked silhouette bathed your floors in cocoa flavor. At last.

‘Arthur! You scared me!’ he lay motionless, your words passing through him as if he wasn't even there. ‘Is everything ok?’

His damp fingers absently traced a faint line over the glass of your coffee table, his body slouched and stiff, the edges of his hair dripping on the couch.

‘I had a bad day.’

The words had come from a deep dark pit inside his chest, a wretched misery draped across his face as you kneeled next to him, cupping his cheeks. You'd ached to see his sparkling jades, yet you'd met them covered in a thick coat of tears, on the edge of dropping.

‘Arthur, what happened, sweetheart? Talk to me, please' He was so tired and withered, not even the wicked cackle would surface in this state.

‘I had a bad day…’

‘You said that, sweetheart, tell me what happened. Are you hurt?’

‘Kitten. I've done something… I…’ for seconds he tried to articulate, but the cackle fought its way up his throat.

‘Arthur shhhh. I know it was you. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, I won't force you… I won’t judge you for it, I promise. Just sit with me for a second’ his head already leaning on your chest, your palm caressing his piercing bones, even through sets of clothes. He sat sedated, limbs heavy, flesh trembling, voice cackling in wrenching anguish for what felt like minutes on end.

‘You do?’ he asked between ruptures as if to steer his initial subject into whatever you'd conveniently brought up.

‘I do. I knew it the moment I heard the news after you stormed out. I saw the blood and the bruise on your face. You won't find any judgement here, I promise. I know you needed time to process, but you’re here now. Shhh' you almost cradled him in your arms, the most powerful instinct to protect him even from himself overbearing. He was all bone and sinew, like a hungry lone wolf, but there now was a sinister vibe to him.

‘Good. I'm glad you know. I lost my job that day, and then they attacked me in the subway, beating me to a pulp. Hm. Now you'll know that killing them hasn't bothered me at all. How's that for casual conversation?’

An unnerving tremor slid down your spine at the tone of his voice. You'd known him for a while, yet this resentful sneer was far from something you'd expect from timorous Arthur. Dreadful it's what it was, spine-tingling, intriguing, you were utterly mad to clasp this deranged man to your bosom when another prince charming just waited for one damn look from you. Who cared, you thought, Gotham’s gonna claim all of us sooner or later.

‘All I want is for you to be safe, Arthur. I won't tell anyone, but you need to be careful, sweetheart, you can't be saying things like those to anyone, please'

‘I have no one to tell, Y/N. And you’re not just anyone. You know. I’m still here, although you could have thrown me in police custody for the past few days.’ The cackles had given him a short respite, even if still lingering on the edge of bursting. He wheezed heavily before speaking. ‘My whole life I didn't even know if I really existed. And today, I feel… hollow…’

You'd asked and asked again as you touched his face and held it close to yours, his forehead as cold as the thunderstorm outside this comforting protective bubble.

‘My mother had a heart attack. She's in the hospital. Hah. My mother…’ a late instinct turned your skin to prickles hearing him speak from a different octave, a thick air of mustering resentment filling the room. ‘I had a few days to myself and I decided to deliver a letter to Thomas Wayne from her, seeing how he never bothered to write back. I'd told you she worked for him 30 years ago, and I read it although I shouldn’t have. I'd never known my father, but the letter said it was him. I confronted my mother and she told me everything about the two of them. But… instead of some warmth or a bit of decency, he told me my mother was insane and that I had been adopted. That and a punch to the face is what I got. Hm. Who am I, then? You tell me'

Your own eyes on the brink of overflowing, your soul coiled. You couldn't do much, but he needed comfort. Where would you even start, though? His tone of voice, the grief weighing him down, the droplets off his wet hair disintegrating whatever pieces were left of him, a question mark in stead of whomever he thought he'd been his whole life. Yet he didn't expect comfort. Such a foreign concept to him, as if reserved only to an elite he was not part of and would not dare intrude upon. You could easily hear how he'd just laugh it out into his pillow at night, his cries stifled, lacking a corner of privacy and personal intimacy where he could really build up that forced smile he'd put on every next day. You’d go utterly mad if you were in his shoes, no comfort and no expectation of it. So used to being overlooked, deep down he knew he was alone, and that filled him with fear and hopelessness. So you shushed and nuzzled him to your chest, hoping the warmth of your body would be soothing enough for the chaos that he was.

‘I don't know who I am, kitten. So I went down to Arkham and stole my mother's file just to find that he'd been right. The… horrors… she subjected me to as a child had gotten me locked up in Arkham years ago, but now I think I was just trying to hide from her, from this rotten city, from this world. I felt safe in that white room, ironically. When they released me, the heavy medication was supposed to make me feel better, instead it suffocated even my most basic impulses.’

Laughter ripped at his throat and pulled his face into a grimace, your palms clasping him so tightly you were afraid you might smother him. How much pain and grief could a man take, his poor soul must have been bound to an eternal rock, forever pecked by hungry vultures.

‘How can you even welcome me into your home if I don't even know that much? I’m so sorry I dragged you into this. I should go, no need to burden you with any of this' he meant every word, as he kissed your hands with teary lips and dragged himself half upright.

‘Don't go' you close to begged. ‘Please stay.’

The grooves in his forehead you loved, just as the distinctive scar on his upper lip and the deep dark eye bags crowning his jades, his state of mind added another couple decades to his age. As you took him in through your pores, you remembered the shy clown peering through the shelves, and how the makeup would do the exact opposite of its intended purpose. Somehow he'd been unaware of how the makeup brightened his eyes to a clarity and sharpness you could cut yourself into. It was endearing how he'd stared at you when you'd first seen him wearing the costume, thinking he could hide under that mask when really it only brought him to life, his facial expressivity more riveting than ever. Yet he was here with you, more Carnival than Arthur even without the paint, as broken as a mirror in infinite shards.

‘Will you still have me here after this?’

‘I would. Please. I'm glad you came here after all this instead of going back home.’

The thought he'd ever been intimate with a woman before you had dissipated in an endless pool of murky turquoise, the genuine surprise in his eyes cutting you to your bone. There was no question, you knew.

‘Thank you, kitten. I'll stay, if you want me here'. There was no hiding anymore, you'd made it sparkling clear by being an accessory after the fact.

‘I do, Arthur, so much. I wanted you here… since you held that elevator for me, yet somehow we always missed our moment. No need to thank me…’

Had it not been for the roaring thunder, he'd probably hear your galloping heart, yet his composure betrayed just that acknowledgement. Every fiber in your body ached to touch his soul and mend it. The erotic tension you couldn't deny, but that wasn't anywhere near the reason why you'd willfully allowed yourself to become his accomplice. He sat back down, timidly reaching for your hand with his own smooth fingers, to place it on his cheek, now as warm as to ignite all the fires inside you with only one touch. Regardless of the endless torment of his life, it was so effortless to feel safe in his presence, even if he'd just killed three men in cold blood and joggled his life as he balanced on a thin string.

‘But I want to. Will you... let me thank you?’ his eyes had meekly turned to yours with a restless heeding for that glimpse of complicity you'd joined in a few times before.

‘If you insist, sweetheart, I guess you already did. You're welcome.’ And through that smile you could feel your body radiating as intensely as a candle flame in the dark. You’d tripped and fell into feelings for him, and nothing could brush them off.

‘No... I really want to thank you, kitten...’ Painfully slowly, he drew himself closer to you, a cocktail of demureness and ardor shaping his beautifully chiseled face into one that you'd missed your whole life, without even knowing. ‘I want to... put my mouth on you...’

Oh… He'd shown you a short, blissful glimpse of this other Arthur, the less tense, less uptight, more daring when he'd taken what you both wanted. There was always a limit to his courage, and yet he’d usually fall back into the timid, maiden like demeanor that he was. This felt different though, as there was a glimpse of unbridling in the way he inhaled, in the twitch of his contoured eyebrow, his whispering husky voice demanding consent. He needed this. Perhaps it would help deafen the torment for a quiet minute, and you were willing to let him try. Oh, who were you fooling, your heart had leapt at the thought of this since you saw him motionless on your couch, albeit in your mind the roles had been reversed. You'd bitten your lip instinctively, a most nonverbal cue of compliance to his plea, and within a short second he was tasting it, sucking it, biting it gently, as his nimble fingers strolled so tenderly through your hair to uncover your face, your eyes already deeply sunk behind fluttering eyelids.

‘I want to feel you shiver in my mouth' he whispered with a faltering voice, taking in all of your scent through avid nostrils. ‘You always smell so good, so clean… I want to taste you…'

So tender he was, you'd forgotten what it felt like to be wished for, body and soul alike, yet his palms willingly showed you a striking contrast to the tenacious Arthur who'd barged in days ago, as if your skin was porcelain and he wouldn't want to break you. He uncovered your naked skin underneath the fluffy bathrobe and smoothly tasted the growing prickles with curious fingertips, lowering himself towards your thighs at a painstakingly slow pace that would soon have you beg.

Pulling you to the edge of the couch where he’d slid himself, he finally broke the jarring tension of his eye contact just to move his head lower, descending decisively. The instant his curious lips parted, a shiver jolted through your flesh and your heart leapt into a marathon, you let yourself fall into his mouth without any control. How beautiful he was, you reminded him over and over as your fingers slicked his damp hair back, curling it around his ears, uncovering his furrowed forehead and perfect chiseled jawline. The sight of him between your thighs was no stranger, but you’d only seen it from afar until now, deep within the corner of each of your fantasies. Such a kind soul he was, but that mouth a wretched devil… oh my…

For a second he looked as if he'd forgotten all his sorrows as he strolled his tongue over your petals, tasting your skin one inch at a time, gently exploring to test your every reaction to his laps, his eyes fascinated with each of your whimpers. The throbbing love button he'd unveiled, a curiosity he had to touch with his tongue to feel the pulsation, your purrs a source of the validation in an endless sea of self doubt. Taking his time, curiously exploring this newfound medication for his sorrowful blues, he quickly grew hungry and greedy as an addict for a stronger fix, yet somewhat cautious to not overdose. His dilated basil eyes etched onto your contorted face, delighting in each tiny reaction he drew from you with his mouth, yet the catalyst to set you fully ablaze were his own moans as he enjoyed himself enjoying you. Oh God, what is he doing to me, I never want him to stop…

You’d thought you'd be the one comforting him, but it seemed as if he was doing it for both of you. His eyes moved around maniacally, taking in the shape of your naked breasts, of your nipples hardened at the thunderous air in the room, your moans guiding him into a delicate rhythm that could make you climb walls, even with the clumsiness that came with tasting a new person. He couldn't be a novice, although his curiosity was striking and enticing. Regardless of all that sorrow he'd brought with him, he curled a satisfied smirk under his scar and an impertinent twitch of his eyebrow sent you into a frenzy. His jades dilated at seeing your lips bitten, your eyebrows furrowed, close to crying in ecstasy, unable to move at the pleasure he gave and gave some more.

The mercury in your thermometer jumped at knot speed towards one big show of fireworks whose fuse got consumed by his kindling flame at a slow pace. Thoughts of his recent killing spree rushed through your mind, yet you were as high as a kite. You didn't care. So you let them ooze out to leave a hazy emptiness behind to be filled with all this spectacle of indulgence.

The pleas were whimpering whispers as you arched and etched your fingers in his smooth cocoa hair to anchor him, the other palm clenching a poor throw pillow to deformation. You hips guided by the rhythm of his palms on your waist, your moans deepening as he'd made you move onto his face, using it as a fine tuned instrument to orchestrate the crescendo of both your pleasure. Now that all your 8000 sensory nerve endings could light Gotham for Christmas if visible, his tongue flickered around your pearl, feeling the climax building up towards that overwhelming rapture. Moans turned to shrieks, toes and fingers clenched in reflex, his eyes and mouth on you as he winked from under long dark eyelashes. You combusted so powerfully into his mouth, within a few blissful seconds you'd left him glistening in traces of yourself.

Only as you quivered your last drop of pleasure in his mouth did you realize why he'd needed this so badly, he craved the validation of being a man even if his identity in shatters. It was one thing to have no identity, but another to not even be a man. Pleasuring you was one damn win that would hold his feet on the ground if he did it right, and that he could control. He had been scrutinizing you as you gasped for air, your eyebrows furrowed almost painfully, your flushed delicate muscles still throbbing under his tongue.

‘Oh, Arthur, that was… amazing…’

Still lingering his lips onto your inner thighs, he kissed tenderly as your flesh still twitched. You wanted him even more now than you did before. But tonight should be about him, even if he'd taken the lead so gracefully, so skillfully, so deliciously.

‘Yeah…’ the shyest smile draped across his tinted face, 'I felt that, kitten. I've… never really done this before…’ You'd known, deep down, and yet hearing him say the words was the most tender of piano nocturnes to your ears, so you latched at his mouth to taste him through your flavor, one that if you could bottle up, it would drive mankind rabid into destructive adoration.

Come here, Arthur, you whispered as you pulled him next to you, the puzzlement over his arching eyebrows an absolute delight you'd dreamt of relentlessly. He didn't fight it, yet the stiffness in his bones betrayed an urge he'd palmed away many nights without resolution, anxiety creeping over him at the realization it was now staring him in the face.

‘Wh… what are you doing?’, you shushed him as a response.

‘Kitten, please, don't feel like you need to give me anything back…’

‘Who said anything about giving back? I'm taking this for myself, Arthur. Let go, baby, let me take care of you'

‘Kitten… ohh' his eyes went straight to the back of his head, heavy eyelids covering his jades, his lips parted as your fingers traced the bulge straining his pants to suffocation. ‘Ok…’ he exhaled anxiously, a timidly bouncing knee betraying the rush of emotion flowing through him as you dragged his clothes over his head, his pants crowning the floor within a few seconds, leaving him naked to your hungry gazes.

The flickering light of the candles reflected over his protruding ribs as if a part of his body had caved in under the weight of his shoulders, his palms on your face strolling and tasting the reality of your flesh, he must have thought you were a side effect of his medication. Yet the prickling shivers traversing his body as you trailed your fingers over it were not. You reached for his lips as you lay him across the couch, your breasts invading his chest, the warmth of your body soothing his anxious trembling. That defeated look on his face, so vulnerable he'd made himself to you, he had nothing to give yet you still wanted him. He was mystified with even the remote possibility, let alone you giving him that adoration he'd chased endlessly, but never caught.

‘You are so beautiful, Arthur, let me show you, please…’ He was your paradise lost in the depravity of Gotham, a villain in itself, weighing down on each of its residents and having chosen Arthur to crush mercilessly under its own lack of a well defined identity, ready to teach us all lessons in humility that could lead to desperation.

He nodded shyly, his jades coated with an acute layer of yearning over something he'd never been given before. His body was a withered Stradivarius, abandoned in the corner of a cold, damp world, subjected to years of weathering and painful lack of any care, no wonder he was so feeble in between your fingers. But his strings were steel, and steel doesn't weather. It would naturally respond to external factors just like anything else but no amount of forcing, pushing, suppressing would bring out the brilliant austere sound it was designed to bring. Had he been less frail, you'd relate him to a cello, one that needs to be held tight to one's chest before playing it, where its resonating chamber rests upon the artist's heart as she moves the bow on the saddest of instruments. Yet he was so fragile, the wails of his chords almost bringing you to tears as you ghosted over them, testing what amount of pressure would bring the vibration, how to explore the potential of the sound and bring it closer to perfection. You were there to give him all that, to polish all the dust away, his wrinkles, his chiseled edges, to practice on his strings and validate his worth until he felt himself a Stradivarius for the first time in his life. He'd been blessed with a beautiful instrument that could bring such intense sensory bliss if only he'd find the right hands, and you longed to play him through the night, to tear your fingers into his chords and to sing his melancholy away.

What a trembling mess he'd become as soon as your lips strolled down his neck, the smell of rain and cigarettes off his skin intoxicating you into indelible addiction. The farthest you went, the more you saw how little he expected that you'd turn your full attention to him, as if never daring to expect anything other than what you'd allow him to take. You kissed your way down from his chest, palms exploring and fondling every bony texture, every inch of soft skin until reaching an extremity that felt to your fingertips as both together. Trembling, he slicked back his hair and sunk deeper into the couch, scrutinizing your face in detail and feeding you those micro expressions of Arthur and Carnival together, the twitch in his eyebrow a give away that you'd be playing for an audience of two tonight.

So immersed in the overflow of sensation he was as you took him into your mouth, his only verbal response a muffled ‘F-fuck, kitten', but his whole body screamed a different story of twitches at the touch of your tongue and lips. How demure the sounds he made as he shivered over and over, his eyes shut tightly, his mouth half open, heavy breaths raising his chest, quivering lips alternating silent approvals or four letter curses, as if careful to not be caught. So painfully expressive, all you wanted was to see him melt under your touches like silver over a burning flame without a hurry in the world, your tongue tracing a tale more evocative than any words could ever express.

With each stroke of your lips, he let go to all but that intense pleasure, as if your mouth held the power to oust the very fabric of reality, offering him an escape into a wonderland he'd been denied entrance all his life. He wants to be wanted, needs to he needed, lusts to be lusted for, his quivering lips more than enough validation for that thought. As you felt his muscles unwind, his fingers tremoring, his breath traversing his trembling body, you'd made him float in an isolation tank of indulgence. When you stopped, his voice would growl and whimper in reflex, the purring sounds begging for more. Some would call it schadenfreude, you called it your tiny overdose in hearing him say 'please' as you teased and inflamed him. His taste in your mouth, his smooth texture, his delicate skin, you wanted nothing more than to lock that door and trap him in this perpetual state of bliss. For eternity wouldn't be enough to put together all his broken pieces, but it would be a start.

The meekness in his jade eyes was wrenching, yet as he looked into yours, you quickly understood why. You couldn't hear his silent whispers, yet you knew he was begging for more as the throb in your mouth intensified and his whimpering green eyes slid to the back of his head, his palms clenching the couch so forcefully he could tear into it. It mattered no less as you felt him completely let go throb after throb, his body convulsing in spasms, the taste of him ambrosia hidden from all other mortals.

His head sunk deep in the couch pillow, his arms and body heavy and immobile, breath ragged, he giggled for the first time that day, a laugh so genuine it felt foreign to both of you, a rattled stranger you both wanted to welcome in and nurture back to his feet. As he lay sprawled on your couch, naked and ecstatic, you wished he was happy, for once. You needed a minute to freshen up, and as you returned to shut the windows and lay a blanket over him, he'd almost dozed off from exhaustion.

You sunk next to him as slick as a cat, laying him onto your chest and fondling your fingers in his damp cocoa hair, his limbs latching at you rendering you almost breathless with the radiating warmth of his body.

‘Kitten, I… I don't know how to thank you…’, he whispered in the nook of your neck, asleep had his flesh not sweetly twitched him back to a half awake state. ‘I've been off my medication for a few days, but I might have found an endless supply of pure morphine…’. His body had finally rested its convulsion, his limbs falling heavier, his breath slower, within a few seconds of his thought his eyes already moved spastically under heavy eyelids.

He was right, he'd found pure morphine, and so had you. It would consume you both, but him in your arms was that feeling humanity had sought since its birth. A once in a lifetime adventure they'd write sonnets about in the past, one that was yours to experience and live through with Arthur. That morphine had just kicked in for both, and you were floating on a cloud high above the thunder slowly roaring away in the night.

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

Thank you for reading this far! ❤

A special thanks to a few of the lovely people in this community that inspires me to keep putting my odes to Arthur on paper:

@wuika @iartsometimes @impulsiveclown @arthurflecc @littlebird92 @life-or-something-like-lt @jokers-puddin-pop @arthurfleckownsmysoul @jokersdoll @bananabreaddough @paperorigami @ransomguest49 @daydreamhustler @arthurjokersgirl @forever-fleck @sweet-nothings04 jokerlicious @ajokeformur-ray @shaw-2000 @jaraysha1121 @jofic059​ @shit-i-love-clowns

[inkheart01]

The Crossover conundrum

Or the DOOM x EFTS crossover nobody but I was interested in

Alternative title: Someone builds a dimensional hole puncher and the first one thru is Doomguy

I'll edit when I have enough brainpower to make words do the pretty thing. Bonapitete. Enjoy. Here's my disaster. adios

The day started like any other, though Calle didn’t know whether to call it day, night, dawn or dusk, or everything and anything in between considering she was floating around in a giant warship in some sector of the galaxy that she had no possible way to pronounce. She took pride in knowing that she was the furthest human away from Earth. No, that was a lie. Last she had checked, Jade was on the other side of the ship. But still, the sentiment was valid.

A rough blow to her shin spurred the young woman out of her stupor. She whipped towards the culprit, who was buried half under a giant ring, deep in the guts of the mechanism. Calle didn’t know what it was and didn’t want to.

Jemma pushed herself out from the behemoth, signing for a helping hand before clambering back under, pale face stained with dirt and mousy hair slick from sweat.

Calle reached towards the nearby mess of supply’s, handing Jemma exactly what she had asked for.

Which meant that moments later, she had front row seats to watch as the girl channelled her inner high schooler and rocket out from under the ring, tossing the literal hand with all the strength and speed of a professional pitcher.

And then she came for Calle, going straight for the talkers ankles as she ran, laughing and crying in mad glee.

Almost lost in the cacophony of joy, the machine beeped loudly, once, twice, three times.

Then it screamed.

Bathing the room in a violent red glow, it sprung to life, gears and cogs churning as it wailed, beeping and flashing in a wild symphony of horror.

The two girls sprung to action, Calle slamming the button to the intercom, screaming over the chaos as Jemma lunged towards the beast, twisting knobs and levers in a mad attempt to silence it. Time seemed to drag on ph so slowly as the two battled against the towering ring, desperate to quell it before the ship tore in half from its quakes.

They almost missed the door shuddering open like a camera, an influx of children and aliens pouring into the room and into action.

Jade was still in her flight suit, and Calle briefly realised that she would have to apologise again. The self-proclaimed pilot never got to fly.

Ian raced to help Jemma with the controls alongside Rochelle and Hunter, the towering aliens orange complexion drowned out by the violent red.

The only one who seemed to sink deeper into the glow was Max, who, alongside Hayley and Bayley and Adam, took up defensive positions around the machine, guns drawn and ready for anything that emerged.

The rest, Calle, Jade, Eviee and Maeve rushed to tear into the machine but were forced back by another shudder.

Which meant that the whole of the Lazarus’ VIP crew had first-class access to the portal swirling with a sickening green, and a metal giant emerging.

Towering and frightening, the human emerged from the portal, shotgun at the ready and so impossibly imposing.

Clad in green armour, the man was a sight.

And then he charged. Far too fast for anything human, he barrelled past Jade, past Ian and Adam. Straight for the triplets standing guard.

Calle cried out a warning, unable to help as the siblings leapt aside, followed closely by the man.

And then, almost in slow motion, the door opened again, revealing the tiny shape of Emily, bathed in light. She stood with her bear clutched tight, eyes wide and searching. “Teddy?”

And the man froze, turning to the six-year-old in shock.

Taking the moment of opportunity, Max lunged, all 11feet and 4inches of alien crashing into the man like a freight train.

But the man was quicker, spinning out of the Rashikk’s way. But he didn’t account for the aliens head-tail.

Quick as a whip, the length shot forward, desperately trying to wrap around his armoured neck, but with little luck. And so Max lunged again, dodging the arm blade and pulling the man to the floor with a strength that anyone who had seen a Rashikk fight, would know was a mere fraction of their might.

And anyone who knew Max, also knew that he was just waiting for an opportunity to unleash hell.

And that presented itself in the armoured man on the floor, who, with startling strength, pushed the alien off and lunged for his Shotgun, the weapon having been knocked aside in the calamity.

But Adam was faster, nimble and quick, he scrabbled for the gun, tossing his rifle to Calle who easily slid into his place, gun aimed at the man and finger on the trigger. Adam slid under the man's arm, gun in hand as the warship lurched.

The armoured man slid, unaccustomed to Vivaane’s piloting, or the alarming nimbleness of the Lazarus, and Max took the opportunity to force the man's helmet off and knocking him out in the process.

Hours later, after the crews buzzing had died down, Captain Kalishnamara strode was not the medical wing, intent on finding out what the incident was this time.

But nothing could prepare her for what she saw when the doors opened.

Eight humans flitted around the room, Emily was perched on Max’s bed, bear in her lap as she laughed at her adopted father's antics. Eviee and Jemma, ever the scientists, were drilling into the half armoured man confined to the room, a dark robot at his side, translating. Jade, Rochelle and Ian were watching, transfixed as the Rashikk triplets tried and failed to beat Adams score for the fastest time to take apart and re-assemble a gun.

And then there was the Askiir, Maeve, the one she trusted the least, who was hovering nervously around Eviee. She had nothing against him personally, but when one gas the ability to manipulate emotions, there will always be a slight distrust, at least in her experience, Eviee seemed fine with the lanky bug.

Jade was the first to notice Kalishnamara and snapped to attention seconds before everyone else, bare the two newcomers, and Emily who was using the wrong hand, but no one held that against her, and if they did, the Lazarus fleet was always ready for a hunt.

“At ease. Alright, I’ll keep it simple. Someone’s already given me the incident report and I’ll get around to it when I have the patience”, Eviee made quick work of translating the Rashikk’s odd symphony of clicks and whistles that made up their spoken language. “All I want to know is if there is a body count”

“Not today”, Bayley answered cheekily, earning a laugh from those in the room that could understand, and leaving the last two to Waugh’s for Eviee translation.

“Good. Let’s keep it that way a little longer”, finally moving from the doorway, she stalked towards the newest members of her VIP crew, noting something peculiar in the way they communicated.

Leaning down as not to be overheard, she motioned to Jemma. “You both speak in the language of hands, yet you cannot understand each other without translations. Why is this?”. Though she was still not fluent in Jemma’s hand language, she understood enough of the basics to cobble together a sentence.

‘Different hand language. Different Home’

“I see. Thank you”. The captain rose to her full height, and the man glared, unknowingly annoyed at feeling oddly small not once, nor twice, but three times since coming through the portal. Was this what everyone else felt when he walked past?

Eviee dutifully translated the aliens oddly melodic language, a strange sound to come from creatures so adept at war.

“On behalf of the Crew and Residents, I welcome you aboard the Lazarus” the robot thanked her, introducing himself and the man. Flynn and Vega. Odd names, but who was she to judge. “I am Captain and Fleet Commander Kalishnamara. But you may call me Lisa. It is a nickname, as I am told.

“You will be regarded as VIP guests while aboard, much like everyone in this room. Please, referring from breaking any of my men why we try to get you home. Now, any questions?”

“Just one actually”, Vega spoke up, “how can you understand them?”

It took Lisa an embarrassingly long time to realise that the robot had been talking to Eviee, who was desperately hiding her laughter from the confused Captain. But still, she managed to pull her source up and reveal the thick golden band around her bicep. “Universal translator. It hurt like hell but is incredibly useful. The downside, both speaking parties have to have one to be able to communicate.”

Flynn turned to look towards Emily, who was squealing as Max and Rochelle bickered.

“What’s the diagnosis doc?”

“You want my diagnosis? Your gonna fuckin die!”

“Don’t worry about her”, Eviee waved off the giants concern. “She doesn’t have one. We’re working on an alternative”

At that same moment, Lisa turned towards Max. “I was told that no major injuries were sustained. Why are you in Ned at?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. The beds are just comfortable”

Lisa sighed as she left the room, muttering about needing a drink. Followed by Jade, Calle, Ian and Adam, the rest of the Chaos club, two aliens, a robot and a confused mountain of a man and a six-year-old and her stuffed bear.

The day ended like any other, in that the Days without Incident board was wiped clean, five new reports were written up, and the crew was abuzz. The only new thing being that the armoury was now locked, indefinitely.

[gaysparklepires]

21. First Hunt

Read on AO3 Support the Author

“The window?” I asked, staring two stories down.

I’d never really been afraid of heights, per se, but being able to see all the details with such clarity made the prospect less appealing. The angles of the rocks below were sharper than I would have imagined them.

Edward smile. “It’s the most convenient exit. If you’re frightened, I can carry you.”

“We have all eternity, and you’re worried about the time it would take to walk to the back door?”

He frowned slightly. “Jacob, Seth, and…” He paused for the briefest fraction of a second, “They’re downstairs…”

“Oh.”

Right. I was the monster now—if not the monster, I was certainly the unknown. I had to be even more cautious until we could figure out exactly what I was. Even though I wasn’t a true vampire newborn, at least not from my perspective, there was still the very real possibility that I could do harm to those around me. Even those I loved.

“Is Jacob… Seth… Are they okay?” I whispered. I realized belatedly that it must have been Jacob and Seth’s hearts I could hear below. I listened hard again, but I realized I heard not just two steady pulses, but three. “What about Liam?”

Edward’s lips tightened in an odd way. “Trust me, they’re all perfectly fine.”

“Oh, okay,” I murmured, and looked at the ground again.

“Stalling?” he challenged.

“A little. I don’t know how…”

And I was very conscious of my family behind me, watching silently. Mostly silently. Emmett had already chuckled under his breath once. One mistake, and he’d be rolling on the floor. Then the jokes about the world’s only clumsy vampire would start....

Also, this outfit—that Alice must have put me in sometime when I was too lost in the burning to notice—was not what I would have picked out for either jumping or hunting. Tightly fitted blue satin shirt? Tailored dress pants? What did she think I would need it for? Was there a cocktail party later?

“Watch me,” Edward said. And then, very casually, he stepped out of the tall, open window and fell.

I watched carefully, analyzing the angle at which he bent his knees to absorb the impact. The sound of his landing was very low—a muted thud that could have been a door softly closed, or a book gently laid on a table.

It didn’t look hard.

Edward watched me from the ground, my keener vision could discern the slight anxiousness behind his eyes. I was beginning to understand that not only were they keeping me away from Jacob and his pack, they were trying to test how vampire I was. I was sure Alice would have seen what—if any—limitations I had now, but Edward still seemed concerned. Like jumping from the window could still harm me. Maybe it could.

Clenching my teeth as I concentrated, I tried to copy his casual step into empty air.

Ha! The ground seemed to move toward me so slowly that it was nothing at all to place my feet—what shoes had Alice put me in? Leather Oxfords? Ridiculously dressy—to place my overly fancy shoes exactly right so that landing was no different than stepping one foot forward on a flat surface.

I absorbed the impact in the balls of my feet. My landing seemed just as quiet as his.

I grinned at him.

“Right. Easy.”

He smiled back. “Beau?”

“Yes?”

“That was quite graceful—even for a vampire.”

I considered that for a moment, and then I beamed. If he’d just been saying that, then Emmett would have laughed. No one found his remark humorous, so it must have been true. It was the first time anyone had ever applied the word graceful to me in my entire life... or, well, existence anyway.

“Thank you,” I told him.

And then I kicked the stiff leather shoes off my feet one by one and lobbed them together back through the open window. A little too hard, maybe, but I heard someone catch them before they could damage the paneling.

Alice grumbled, “His fashion sense hasn’t improved as much as his balance.”

Edward took my hand—I couldn’t stop marveling at the smoothness, the nearly matched temperature of his skin—and darted through the backyard to the edge of the river. I went along with him effortlessly.

Everything physical seemed very simple.

“Are we swimming?” I asked him when we stopped beside the water.

“And ruin your nice clothes? No. We’re jumping.”

I pursed my lips, considering. The river was about fifty yards wide here. “You first,” I said.

He touched my cheek, took two quick backward strides, and then ran back those two steps, launching himself from a flat stone firmly embedded in the riverbank. I studied the flash of movement as he arced over the water, finally turning a somersault just before he disappeared into the thick trees on the other side of the river.

“Show-off,” I muttered, and heard his invisible laugh.

I backed up five paces, just in case, and took a deep breath.

Suddenly, I was anxious again. Not about falling or getting hurt—I was more worried about the forest getting hurt.

It had come on slowly, but I could feel it now—the raw, massive strength thrilling in my limbs. I was suddenly sure that if I wanted to tunnel under the river, to claw or beat my way straight through the bedrock, it wouldn’t take me very long. The objects around me —the trees, the shrubs, the rocks... the house—had all begun to look very fragile.

Hoping very much that Esme was not particularly fond of any specific trees across the river, I flexed my shoulders back, preparing to move. The first three buttons of the tight satin shirt popped off. I sighed. I tensed into a preparative crouch, and the side seam of the slim fitting pants ripped up the side. God, Alice!

Well, Alice seemed to treat clothes as if they were disposable and meant for one-time usage, so she shouldn’t mind this. I bent to carefully grasp the hem at the undamaged right seam between my fingers and, exerting the tiniest amount of pressure possible, I ripped the pants open to just above my knee. Then I fixed the other side to match, and tore off the excess fabric. I admired my new dress shorts with a smug sense of amusement.

Much better.

I could hear the muffled laughter in the house, and even the sound of someone gritting her teeth. The laughter came from upstairs and down, and I very easily recognized the much different, rough, throaty chuckle from the first floor.

So Jacob was watching, too? I couldn’t imagine what he was thinking now, or what he was still doing here. I’d envisioned our reunion—if he could ever forgive me—taking place far in the future, when I was more stable, and time had healed the wounds I’d inflicted in his heart.

I didn’t turn to look at him now, wary of my mood swings. It wouldn’t be good to let any emotion take too strong a hold on my frame of mind. Jasper’s fears had me on edge, too. I had to hunt before I dealt with anything else. I tried to forget everything else so I could concentrate.

“Beau?” Edward called from the woods, his voice moving closer. “Do you want to watch again?”

But I remembered everything perfectly, of course, and I didn’t want to give Emmett a reason to find more humor in my education and testing. This was physical—it should be instinctive. So I took a deep breath and ran for the river.

Unhindered by my fitted pants, it took only one long bound to reach the water’s edge. Just an eighty-fourth of a second, and yet it was plenty of time—my eyes and my mind moved so quickly that one step was enough. It was simple to position my right foot just so against the flat stone and exert the adequate pressure to send my body wheeling up into the air. I was paying more attention to aim than force, and I erred on the amount of power necessary—but at least I didn’t err on the side that would have gotten me wet. The fifty-yard width was slightly too easy a distance…

It was a strange, giddy, electrifying thing, but a short thing. An entire second had yet to pass, and I was across.

I was expecting the close-packed trees to be a problem, but they were surprisingly helpful. It was a simple matter to reach out with one sure hand as I fell back toward the earth again deep inside the forest and catch myself on a convenient branch; I swung lightly from the limb and landed on my toes, still fifteen feet from the ground on the wide bough of a Sitka spruce.

It was fabulous.

Over the sound of my peals of delighted laughter, I could hear Edward racing to find me. My jump had been twice as long as his. When he reached my tree, his eyes were wide. I leaped nimbly from the branch to his side, soundlessly landing again on the balls of my feet.

“Was that good?” I wondered, my breathing accelerated with excitement.

“Very good.” He smiled approvingly, but his casual tone didn’t match the surprised expression in his eyes.

“Can we do it again?”

“Focus, Beau—we’re on a hunting trip.”

“Oh, right.” I nodded. “Hunting.”

“Follow me... if you can.” He grinned, his expression suddenly taunting, and broke into a run.

He was faster than me. I couldn’t imagine how he moved his legs with such blinding speed, but it was beyond me. However, I wasstronger, and every stride of mine matched the length of three of his. And so I flew with him through the living green web, by his side, not following at all. As I ran, I couldn’t help laughing quietly at the thrill of it; the laughter neither slowed me nor upset my focus.

I could finally understand why Edward never hit the trees when he ran—a question that had always been a mystery to me. It was a peculiar sensation, the balance between the speed and the clarity. For, while I rocketed over, under, and through the thick jade maze at a rate that should have reduced everything around me to a streaky green blur, I could plainly see each tiny leaf on all the small branches of every insignificant shrub that I passed.

The wind of my speed blew my hair out behind me, and, though I knew it shouldn’t, it felt almost warm against my skin. Just as the rough forest floor shouldn’t feel like velvet beneath my bare soles, and the limbs that whipped against my skin shouldn’t feel like caressing feathers.

The forest was much more alive than I’d ever known—small creatures whose existence I’d never guessed at teemed in the leaves around me. They all grew silent after we passed, their breath quickening in fear. The animals had a much wiser reaction to our scent than humans seemed to. Certainly, it’d had the opposite effect on me.

I kept waiting to feel winded, but my breath came effortlessly. I waited for the burn to begin in my muscles, but my strength only seemed to increase as I grew accustomed to my stride. My leaping bounds stretched longer, and soon he was trying to keep up with me. I laughed again, exultant, when I heard him falling behind. My naked feet touched the ground so infrequently now it felt more like flying than running.

“Beau,” he called dryly, his voice even, lazy.

I could hear nothing else; he had stopped. I briefly considered mutiny.

But, with a sigh, I whirled and skipped lightly to his side, some hundred yards back. I looked at him expectantly. He was smiling, with one eyebrow raised. He was so beautiful that I could only stare.

“Did you want to stay in the country?” he asked, amused. “Or were you planning to continue on to Canada this afternoon?”

“This is fine,” I agreed, concentrating less on what he was saying and more on the mesmerizing way his lips moved when he spoke. It was hard not to become sidetracked with everything fresh in my strong new eyes. “What are we hunting?”

“Elk. I thought something easy for your first time...” He trailed off when my eyes narrowed at the word easy.

But I wasn’t going to argue; I was supposed to be hunting. And I didn’t know what I was doing, but he did. So I should follow his lead.

“Okay, where?” I asked, scanning the trees. The thirst was uncomfortable, but not as unmanageable as I had imagined it would be.

“Hold still for a minute,” he said, putting his hands lightly on my shoulders. The ability to stay still seemed more difficult when he was touching me.

“Now close your eyes,” he murmured. When I obeyed, he raised his hands to my face, stroking my cheekbones. I felt my breathing speed and waited briefly again for the blush that wouldn’t come.

“Listen,” Edward instructed. “What do you hear?”

Everything,I could have said; his perfect voice, his breath, his lips brushing together as he spoke, the whisper of birds preening their feathers in the treetops, their fluttering heartbeats, the maple leaves scraping together, the faint clicking of ants following each other in a long line up the bark of the nearest tree. But I knew he meant something specific, so I let my ears range outward, seeking something different than the small hum of life that surrounded me. There was an open space near us—the wind had a different sound across the exposed grass—and a small creek, with a rocky bed. And there, near the noise of the water, was the splash of lapping tongues, the loud thudding of heavy hearts, pumping thick streams of blood...

I felt a vague tenseness in my throat.

“By the creek, to the northeast?” I asked, my eyes still shut.

“Yes.” His tone was approving. “Now... wait for the breeze again and... what do you smell?”

Mostly him—his strange honey-lilac-and-sun perfume. But also the rich, earthy smell of rot and moss, the resin in the evergreens, the warm, almost nutty aroma of the small rodents cowering beneath the tree roots. And then, reaching out again, the clean smell of the water, which was surprisingly unappealing despite my thirst. I focused toward the water and found the scent that must have gone with the lapping noise and the pounding heart. Another warm smell, rich and tangy, stronger than the others. And yet nearly as unappealing as the brook. I wrinkled my nose.

He chuckled. “I know—it takes some getting used to.”

“Three?” I guessed.

“Five. There are two more in the trees behind them.”

“What do I do now?”

His voice sounded like he was smiling. “What do you feel like doing?”

I thought about that, my eyes still shut as I listened and breathed in the scent. Another bout of that annoying thirst intruded on my awareness, and as my annoyance with it grew, the warm, tangy odor wasn’t quite so objectionable. At least it would be something hot and wet in my dry mouth. My eyes snapped open.

“Don’t think about it,” he suggested as he lifted his hands off my face and took a step back. “Just follow your instincts.”

I let myself drift with the scent, barely aware of my movement as I ghosted down the incline to the narrow meadow where the stream flowed. My body shifted forward automatically into a low crouch as I hesitated at the fern-fringed edge of the trees. I could see a big buck, two dozen antler points crowning his head, at the stream’s edge, and the shadow-spotted shapes of the four others heading eastward into forest at a leisurely pace.

I centered myself around the scent of the male, the hot spot in his shaggy neck where the warmth pulsed strongest. Only thirty yards—two or three bounds—between us. I tensed myself for the first leap.

But as my muscles bunched in preparation, the wind shifted, blowing stronger now, and from the south. I didn’t stop to think, hurtling out of the trees in a path perpendicular to my original plan, scaring the elk into the forest, racing after a new fragrance so startlingly attractive that I felt instantly drawn to it.

The scent ruled completely. I was single-minded as I traced it, aware only of the thirst and the smell that promised to quench it. The thirst grew more intense, like I was a man lost in the desert, desperate for just a sip of water.

There was only one thing that had any chance of penetrating my focus now, an instinct more powerful, more basic than the need to quench the thirst—it was the instinct to protect myself from danger. Self-preservation.

I was suddenly alert to the fact that I was being followed. The pull of the nearly irresistible scent warred with the impulse to turn and defend my hunt. A bubble of sound built in my chest, my lips pulled back of their own accord to expose my teeth in warning. My feet slowed, the need to protect my back struggling against the desire to quench my thirst.

And then I could hear my pursuer gaining, and defense won. As I spun, the rising sound ripped its way up my throat and out.

The feral snarl, coming from my own mouth, was so unexpected that it brought me up short. It unsettled me, and it cleared my head for a second—the thirst-driven haze receded, though the parched feeling in my throat continued.

The wind shifted, blowing the smell of wet earth and coming rain across my face, further freeing me from the other scent’s grip—a scent so tempting it could only be human.

Edward hesitated a few feet away, his arms raised as if to embrace me—or restrain me. His face was intent and cautious as I froze, horrified.

I realized that I had been about to attack him. With a hard jerk, I straightened out of my defensive crouch. I held my breath as I refocused, fearing the power of the fragrance swirling up from the south.

He could see reason return to my face, and he took a step toward me, lowering his arms.

“I have to get away from here,” I spit through my teeth, using the breath I had.

Shock crossed his face. “Can you leave?”

I didn’t have time to ask him what he meant by that. I knew the ability to think clearly would last only as long as I could stop myself from thinking of—

I burst into a run again, a flat-out sprint straight north, concentrating solely on the uncomfortable feeling of sensory deprivation that seemed to be my body’s only immediate response to the lack of air. My one goal was to run far enough away that the scent behind me would be completely lost. Impossible to find, even if I changed my mind...

Once again, I was aware of being followed, but I was sane this time. I fought the instinct to breathe—to use the flavors in the air to be sure it was Edward. I didn’t have to fight long; though I was running faster than I ever had before, shooting like a comet through the straightest path I could find in the trees; Edward caught up with me after a short minute.

A new thought occurred to me, and I stopped dead, my feet planted. I was sure it must be safe here, but I held my breath just in case.

Edward blew past me, surprised by my sudden freeze. He wheeled around and was at my side in a second. He put his hands on my shoulders and stared into my eyes, shock still the dominant emotion on his face.

“How did you do that?” he demanded.

“Just a minute,” I said quickly. I placed two fingers at the pulse point on my neck. My heart was still beating, but it had slowed even further than before. Instead of panicking from a lack of fresh oxygen, my heart had simply slowed to preserve what oxygen had been in my lungs. They, too, showed no signs of distress. That aching burn from a lack of oxygen was non-existent. My new body was unbothered by me not breathing, carefully adjusting to accommodate the change.

When I opened my mouth, I could taste the air—it was unpolluted now, with no trace of the compelling perfume to torment my thirst. I took a cautious breath.

Edward was still staring at me, his eyes still wide with shock. “Beau, how did you do it?”

“Do what? Run away? I held my breath.”

“But how did you stop hunting?”

“When you came up behind me... I’m so sorry about that.”

“Why are you apologizing to me? I’m the one who was horribly careless. I assumed no one would be so far from the trails, but I should have checked first. Such a stupid mistake! You have nothing to apologize for.”

“But I growled at you!” I was still horrified that I was physically capable of such a vicious sound.

“Of course you did. That’s only natural. But I can’t understand how you ran away.”

“What else could I do?” I asked. His attitude confused me—what did he want to have happened? “It might have been someone I know!”

He startled me, suddenly bursting into a spasm of loud laughter, throwing his head back and letting the sound echo off the trees.

“Why are you laughing at me?”

He stopped at once, and I could see he was wary again.

Keep it under control, I thought to myself. I had to watch my temper. Just like I was a young werewolf rather than a vampire. Something in the back of my new, clearer mind marked that thought like it was important.

“I’m not laughing at you, Beau. I’m laughing because I am in shock. And I am in shock because I am completely amazed.”

“Why?”

“You shouldn’t be able to do any of this. You shouldn’t be so... so rational. You shouldn’t be able to stand here discussing this with me calmly and coolly. And, much more than any of that, you should nothave been able to break off mid-hunt with the scent of human blood in the air. Even mature vampires have difficulty with that—we’re always very careful of where we hunt so as not to put ourselves in the path of temptation. Beau, you’re behaving like you’re decades rather than days old.”

“Oh.” But I’d known it was going to be hard. That was why I’d been so on guard. I’d been expecting it to be difficult. Even then, it wasn’t the mostdifficult thing I had done. I imagined I could mark this as one of the ways I was notlike a vampire. Whatever I was, perhaps exceptional self-control was a part of the package.

He put his hands on my face again, and his eyes were full of wonder. “What wouldn’t I give to be able to see into your mind for just this one moment.”

Such powerful emotions. I’d been prepared for an all-consuming thirst, for physical strength, but not this. I’d been so sure it wouldn’t be the same when he touched me. Well, truthfully, it wasn’t the same.

It was stronger.

I reached up to trace the planes of his face; my fingers lingered on his lips.

“I thought I wouldn’t feel this way for a long time?” My uncertainty made the words a question. “But I still want you.”

He blinked in shock. “How can you even concentrate on that? Aren’t you unbearably thirsty?”

I considered that for a moment. Then I shrugged, “I mean, sure.”

He stared at me with a bewildered expression. Then he shook his head. “Let’s try again, Beau. Concentrate.”

I blinked in confusion and then sighed, closing my eyes like I had before to help me concentrate. I let my senses range out around me, tensed this time in case of another onslaught of the delicious taboo scent.

Edward dropped his hands, not even breathing while I listened farther and farther out into the web of green life, sifting through the scents and sounds for something not totally repellant to my thirst. There was a hint of something different, a faint trail to the east…

My eyes flashed open, but my focus was still on sharper senses as I turned and darted silently eastward. The ground sloped steeply upward almost at once, and I ran in a hunting crouch, close to the ground, taking to the trees when that was easier. I sensed rather than heard Edward with me, flowing quietly through the woods, letting me lead.

The vegetation thinned as we climbed higher; the scent of pitch and resin grew more powerful, as did the trail I followed—it was a warm scent, sharper than the smell of the elk and more appealing. A few seconds more and I could hear the muted padding of immense feet, so much subtler than the crunch of hooves. The sound was up—in the branches rather than on the ground. Automatically I darted into the boughs as well, gaining the strategic higher position, halfway up a towering silver fir.

The soft thud of paws continued stealthily beneath me now; the rich scent was very close. My eyes pinpointed the movement linked with the sound, and I saw the tawny hide of the great cat slinking along the wide branch of a spruce just down and to the left of my perch. He was big—easily four times my mass. His eyes were intent on the ground beneath; the cat hunted, too. I caught the smell of something smaller, bland next to the aroma of my prey, cowering in brush below the tree. The lion’s tail twitched spasmodically as he prepared to spring.

With a light bound, I sailed through the air and landed on the lion’s branch. He felt the shiver of the wood and whirled, shrieking surprise and defiance. He clawed the space between us, his eyes bright with fury. Intent on my own prey, I ignored the exposed fangs and the hooked claws and launched myself at him, knocking us both to the forest floor.

It wasn’t much of a fight.

His raking claws could have been caressing fingers for all the impact they had on my skin. His teeth could find no purchase against my shoulder or my throat. His weight was nothing. My teeth unerringly sought his throat, and his instinctive resistance was pitifully feeble against my strength. My jaws locked easily over the precise point where the heat flow concentrated.

It was effortless as biting into butter. My teeth were steel razors; they cut through the fur and fat and sinews like they weren’t there.

The flavor was wrong, but the blood was hot and wet and it soothed the dry, itching thirst as I drank in an eager rush. The cat’s struggles grew more and more feeble, and his screams choked off with a gurgle. The warmth of the blood radiated throughout my whole body, heating even my fingertips and toes.

The lion was finished before I was. The thirst ebbed nearly to the point of non-existence as he ran dry, and I shoved his carcass off my body in disgust. How could I still be even slightly thirsty after all that?

I wrenched myself erect in one quick move. Standing, I realized I was a bit of a mess. I wiped my face off on the back of my arm and tried to fix destroyed shirt hanging off my shoulders. The claws that had been so ineffectual against my skin had had more success with the thin satin.

“Hmm,” Edward said. I looked up to see him leaning casually against a tree trunk, watching me with a thoughtful look on his face.

“I guess I could have done that better.” I was covered in dirt, my hair knotted, my clothes bloodstained and hanging in tatters. Edward didn’t come home from hunting trips looking like this.

“You did perfectly fine,” he assured me. “It’s just that... it was much more difficult for me to watch than it should have been.”

I raised my eyebrows, confused.

“It goes against the grain,” he explained, “letting you wrestle with lions. I was having an anxiety attack the whole time.”

“I suppose that’s fair.” I mused, “For all we know I could still have been just as fragile.”

“I should have more faith.” He smiled. “You always surprise me, Beau.” His eyes appraised me for a moment before he continued. “I must say I rather like the improvements to your attire.”

I wondered if my strange, new skin blushed like it used to. Judging by the twitch at the corners of his mouth, some sort of change must have registered in my face. I changed the subject. “Why am I still thirsty?”

“Because you’re young.”

I sighed. “And I don’t suppose there are any other mountain lions nearby.”

“Plenty of deer, though.”

I made a face. “They don’t smell as good.”

“Herbivores. The meat-eaters smell more like humans,” he explained.

“Not that much like humans,” I disagreed, trying not to remember.

“We could go back,” he said solemnly, but there was a teasing light in his eye. “Whoever it was out there, if their tastes aligned with mine, they probably wouldn’t even mind death if you were the one delivering it.” His gaze ran over my ravaged clothes again. “In fact, they would think they were already dead and gone to heaven the moment they saw you.”

I rolled my eyes and snorted. “Let’s go hunt some stinking herbivores.”

We found a large herd of mule deer as we ran back toward home. He hunted with me this time, now that I’d gotten the hang of it. I brought down a large buck, making nearly as much of a mess as I had with the lion. He’d finished with two before I was done with the first, not a hair ruffled, not a spot on his white shirt. We chased the scattered and terrified herd, but instead of feeding again, this time I watched carefully to see how he was able to hunt so neatly.

All the times that I had wished that Edward would not have to leave me behind when he hunted, I had secretly been just a little relieved. Because I was sure that seeing this would be frightening. Horrifying. That seeing him hunt would finally make him look like a vampire to me.

Of course, it was much different from this perspective, as something like a vampire myself. But I doubted that even my human eyes would have missed the beauty here.

It was a surprisingly sensual experience to observe Edward hunting. His smooth spring was like the sinuous strike of a snake; his hands were so sure, so strong, so completely inescapable; his full lips were perfect as they parted gracefully over his gleaming teeth. He was glorious. I felt a sudden jolt of both pride and desire. He was mine. Nothing could ever separate him from me now. I was too strong to be torn from his side.

He was very quick. He turned to me and gazed curiously at my gloating expression.

“No longer thirsty?” he asked.

I shrugged. “You distracted me. You’re much better at it than I am.”

“Centuries of practice.” He smiled. His eyes were a disconcertingly lovely shade of honey gold now.

“Just one,” I corrected him.

He laughed. “Are you done for today? Or did you want to continue?”

“Done, I think.” I wasn’t thirsty anymore. I felt fairly satisfied, and in more ways than one.

I felt in control. Perhaps my sense of security was false, but I did feel pretty good about not killing anyone today. If I could resist totally human strangers, wouldn’t I be able to handle the werewolf best friend and his brothers back at the house?

“I want to head back, see Jacob and the boys.” I said. Now that my thirst was thoroughly tamed, my earlier worries were hard to forget. I wanted to see if I had any chance to reconcile with Jacob after all this. If he was still there, surely there had to be a chance to mend things—to create some closure for us.

Edward held out his hand to me. I took it, and his skin felt warmer than before. His cheek was faintly flushed, the shadows under his eyes all but vanished.

I was unable to resist stroking his face again. And again.

I sort of forgot that I was waiting for a response to my request as I stared into his shimmering gold eyes.

It was almost harder than it had been to turn away from the scent of human blood, but I somehow kept the need to be careful firmly in my head as I stretched up on my toes and wrapped my arms around him. Gently.

He was not so hesitant in his movements; his arms locked around my waist and pulled me tight against his body. His lips crushed down on mine, but they felt soft. My lips no longer shaped themselves around his; they held their own.

Like before, it was as if the touch of his skin, his lips, his hands, was sinking right through my smooth, hard skin and into my new bones. To the very core of my body. I hadn’t imagined that I could love him more than I had.

My old mind hadn’t been capable of holding this much love. My old heart had not been strong enough to bear it.

Maybe this was the part of me that I’d brought forward to be intensified in my new life. Like Carlisle’s compassion and Esme’s devotion. I would probably never be able to do anything interesting or special like Edward, Alice, and Jasper could do. Maybe I would just love Edward more than anyone in the history of the world had ever loved anyone else.

I could live with that.

I remembered parts of this—twisting my fingers in his hair, tracing the planes of his chest—but other parts were so new. He was new. It was an entirely different experience with Edward kissing me so fearlessly, so forcefully. I responded to his intensity, and then suddenly we were falling.

“Oops,” I said, and he laughed underneath me. “I didn’t mean to tackle you like that. Are you okay?”

He stroked my face. “Slightly better than okay.” And then a perplexed expression crossed his face. “Still want to go back?” he asked uncertainly, trying to ascertain what I wanted most in this moment. A very difficult question to answer, because I wanted so many things at the same time.

I could tell that he wasn’t exactly averse to procrastinating our return trip, and it was hard to think about much besides his skin on mine—there really wasn’t that much left of my clothes. But I couldn’t stay here forever. Life was waiting for me. My family was waiting. My best friend was waiting. I needed to see them, to fill my new mind with memories of them that would last forever.

“Let’s go,” I agreed, rueful, and I whipped back up onto my feet, pulling him with me.

[a-memory-of]

The midday sun beat hot against the sand-weathered stones of Ul'dah's streets. But the heat never stopped the desert city's routines, especially in the marketplace: deliverymen pulled their carts, merchants at colorful stalls battled for attention with shouts of amazing deals and extraordinary wares, and adventurers and buyers of all shapes and sizes perused such goods with either awe or incredulity. In his own way, Emerlain Moreau wanted little to do with the crowd. Not because he didn't care about the lively energy that being surrounded by people offered (on the contrary, he loved that about Ul'dah), but because he was busy with other matters. Sitting against the wall, beneath an awning that shielded him from the sun's rays, he sketched on his parchment. His pale blue eyes then peered up, past the crowd, and to the impressive, ornate building that sat on the other side of the street. Architecture was the subject of the day, and he made certain to note the length of each column and flow of each flag that was caught the hot breeze. As ever, his expression was calm, if not pleasant, and despite his concentration on the building beyond, he gaze occasionally strayed along the streets. His concern wasn't with the crowd, but he certainly didn't mind watching it from his almost-decently cool spot.

The heat was something so entirely different than she was used to. Josephine Gallier found it odd she was missing Ishgard of all places, but she was. Her hair had been tied up in a bun, offering some escape from the warmth and it was an attempt to look more presentable even when she felt as frazzled as she did. Carefully clutching the same leather-bound file to her chest, she hurriedly made her way through the market, dodging the crowd and carts alike. Josephine stopped a moment, looking around and giving an exasperated sigh. How she was supposed to find anyone here, was quite beyond her. Pulling the file back a bit, she looked down to a parchment resting between it and her chest. It had a hastily drawn map and directions upon it. Someone bumped her shoulder as she looked down at it, and then up at the street. Scrunching up her nose, the Elezen stepped off to the side, looking at it and fanning her face with her free hand.

Emerlain wiped locks of hair that had stuck to his forehead in the heat, leaving behind a light smudge of charcoal across his skin. His steel gray tunic was dusty, just like everything in Ul'dah, but otherwise quite well-kept. A few strokes later, and he glanced back up. Then, his head tilted, and a clever smile spanned.

Not far, off to the side, stood Josephine. Their last meeting had not ended well, at least not to her (he presumed), and he was half-tempted to simply pack up his book and slip away. But...that brooch, her name, and a long-distant memory compelled him to act once more. 

Briskly, he tore a piece of parchment from the book and began to fold. It was a simple design, and he worked with nimble fingers, occasionally glancing her direction to make sure she didn't leave yet. Then, he popped to his feet and swept over to the woman, the contents of his hands hidden behind his back. He simply...stood beside her, nonchalantly. Wondering how long until she would notice.

Josephine had been too lost in the scribbled directions to notice the other had all but slid up beside her. Still frustrated and fanning herself, she mumbled something about Halone under her breath before she turned sharply, making to walk back the way she had come. Perhaps she had gone too far down--- 

As she turned, she very nearly walked right into Emerlain's chest, but stopped herself, scrambling for her file to keep it in her arms and an apology already forming on her lips, "Ah, forgive me sir, I didn't--- you!" 

Blinking, she stood there looking at him. It was most certainly the artist from the bar the other night. Clearing her throat, putting a stray hair behind an ear, and standing straight as if she had never had such an undignified moment at all, she pursed her lips at him, "If you'll excuse me, I'm in a hurry."

Emerlain quite positively beamed. “Of course,” he replied in a smooth but chipper tone. “I’m certain you have much better things to do than talk to me. However, I noticed you look like you’re still adjusting to the heat. Especially today, as the sun seems particularly unkind.”

In a swift movement, Emerlain presented her with the parchment he had torn free prior. It was a delicately folded fan, and on one side was a sketch of a mountainous landscape he had done during one session or another. He offered it was a smile and a slight bow of his lanky elezen shoulders. "It isn't much, but perhaps more useful than your bare hand, hm?"

Josephine almost commented on the nerve of his implication, how dare he assume she was anything other than perfectly refined in this Twelve-damned heat? But she thought better of it, it was a waste of time and she was already lacking that. Clamping her mouth shut, she half-turned as if to move away when a folded paper was forced into her line of vision. 

Stepping back and blinking, she studied it. A fan. Her eyes caught on the sketch a moment, taking it from his fingers and into her own, one arm still curled around the folders at her chest. "Is this... why would you ruin a perfectly good drawing like that? How absurd," she clicked her tongue, squinting her eyes at him a moment. 

But it was rather hot. She pursed her lips. Would using it show too much weakness? She could always use it once she was out of sight. To start sweating would be improper, however... and so she gave it a few test flicks.

Emerlain shrugged, lofting a brow in her direction. "Ruined? Now 'tis a beautiful fan, instead of a parchment. One can be both beautiful and highly functional." He grinned, perhaps intending his words to mean something else, perhaps not. As she looked at the fan to test it, he looked at her. And then to that little brooch on her chest. 

"'Tis a fine brooch. But aged." He spoke casually, smiling kindly. "It must be important to you."

The fan helped, she supposed. But she was not about to admit it so readily. Josephine couldn't help but give him a wary look at his words. Had he not been speaking of a simple fan then? 

His next words stilled her hand, before her olive eyes settled back on his face. "One usually finds importance in gifts," she muttered, tilting the papers she had in her free hand his way, "If you must insist on conversation, at least make yourself useful. Do you know where this is?" A gesture of her chin pointed to a neatly written name, likely a merchant stall.

Emerlain merely smiled, a look that often accompanied a mischievous glint in his eyes, as if he knew a secret. His keen ice-blue eyes then peered down at the papers, studying the location. His brows went aloft. “The name certainly looks familiar. I could lead you, of course, but on one condition.” He peeked up toward her. There was that smile again.

Josephine could not help give a wary look at the other, immediately regretting having asked for his aid at all. Not with a look like that. There were countless other's she could have asked on the street for directions. She had no need for his games. Blowing a breath out her nose, she deadpanned, "And the condition?"

Emerlain's expression somehow brightened, realizing that she was going to entertain his offer, at least. He rummaged through the pocket of his trousers and procured an item, obscured by his hand as he offered it to her, looking amused all the while. "You simply must keep this." 

If or when she offered a palm, he would drop the item into her possession. It was small, about the size of the pad of her thumb, and green. The Thanalan sun glimmered off the shimmering sheen of jade, and it had been intricately carved into a creature: a skulking fox.

She found she immediately regretted her answer, frowning at his own suspicious looking smile. Josephine watched his every move as he dug around in his pockets. With hesitance, she raised her hand in turn to collect the offered item. She was not sure what she had been expecting, but she certainly had not expected something like that. 

Josephine studied the little carving, she could not tell it's purpose, but she recognized easily enough it probably not had come without a considerable amount of gil. "But I..." her face fell a moment, the lines of agitation fading in that passing thought, "What am I to do with this? Why are you giving it to me?" When in Halone's name was the last time she had received any sort of gift?

“So many questions. Do you not receive trinkets often? ’Tis surprising. Place it somewhere nice to commemorate our meeting, or keep it out of sight for the same reason, whatever you like. Just do not sell or toss it away, t’would be rude,” Emerlain nearly laughed. Then he stood a little straighter. “Now, the merchant you’re looking for isn’t on this street. I daresay it was in the direction you came from, but you missed the the turn. Come with me, hm?” He motioned to the street behind her, then spun on his heel, tucking the pad of parchment under his arm and moving to lead the way.

Josephine stared down at the little carving for a moment longer, before she carefully tucked it away in a breast pocket. For some reason she felt more agitated about the gift than the heat, being lost, or being late combined. But she carefully trained herself back with a deep breath. 

Thankfully, at least, several of those problems were remedied once the other led her down the proper street. They parted ways at the stall, she had business to attended to, after all, and he seemed content to be on his way. Josephine gave one last look to his retreating back, before shaking her head as she unfolded the paperwork from her stack before the merchant. A strange man like him was not someone to dwell on.

With @locke-rinannis

[kpopyourcherryy]

Patient Confidentiality - (H/M)

A/N; Our third spooky smutty installment for our Halloween Smut festa, that was extremely delayed lol  Hopefully the wait was worth it~

Genre; Hella smut 

Length; 11,000+ words aka long af just like Xiumin’s d i c c

Kink(s); exhibitionism/public stuff, impact play, Daddy kink, a tad bit of blood play, etc

AU(s); Vampire!Au

    You pulled your sweater closer to your body to fight off the shivers that wracked your being. Mornings like these you often wished you were home, cuddled up to your cat reading through your grandmother’s old diaries. They were soft leather-bound books filled to the brim with your grandmother’s thoughts and spells. You were sure your beloved “Ma’s” soul was strung to those diaries, somehow. The pages lifted before your hand could move them. More often than not they would caress your palm as they turned, like small kisses. You should have bought one with you; it would have helped to pass the time.

    The automatic A/C unit made the ICU cold during the early morning. Your only company were the nurses making super early rounds and the humming of machines that wafted out of patient rooms. Lights more often than not were off as patients slept, sometimes you could catch the sound of a prayer.     Hospitals were a sensitive subject for you, you adored your work as a nurse, being surrounded by the flow of so much energy invigorated you. Still, there were the times when death’s icy cold fingers would rub down your spine teasingly as it went to claim one of the patients. You frowned at the thought of death. How many times had you felt that tickle across the nape of your neck or felt the air go still?

    You eyed the clock wearily as the hand struck 7:00 AM. You rolled your neck searching for the source of its stiffness. You’d been sitting for too long. You rose from your chair at the nurse's station and proceeded to walk the floor. The fluorescent lights that lined the hall buzzed, echoing in your ear, a reminder of the emptiness.     The whiteness of the walls was blinding- making your eyes ache. A small pain started behind your eyes as you continued peaking your head in and out of patient rooms, checking charts and doing vitals.  Most of the time patients responded well unless they were having an "altered mental state" moment.  Even then, most of them were polite, just a bit stubborn about remaining still and receiving medication.

    You sighed as you came upon room 722. You loved your job. Honestly, it fulfilled you in ways hard to describe in words, but sometimes, you struggled. This particular patient was cantankerous, jaded as if he'd lived a thousand lifetimes even though he was only 28. You had to psyche yourself to see him every time you came to his room. The sliding doors opened to reveal him sitting in the recliner. The clunky dialyzer buzzed, signaling its completion of therapy. You masked up and threw on a  sanitation gown and gloves.

    "Mr. Kim, your dialysis is over. I'm going to remove the tubes and seal up your permacath, alright." He nodded and pulled the blanket down to reveal tubing in his chest.  He hated the cold feeling of his blood draining out of his body and reentering it. The shivers that came with being treated for his failing kidneys often reminded Minseok of the months before his hospitalization.  He’d been living it up, albeit it in a cliche manner. A young investment banker, with too much money and too little morals, was a bad combination.     The liquid lunches, energy drinks and a preexisting condition he had no knowledge about had brought him here. It was gradual. Unlike all the “fun” diseases, he didn’t suddenly pass out in the street. His strength and vitality melted from his body day by day. His bones grew heavy and his face gaunt. Minseok recalled the day he was admitted into the damned ICU. He came for what he presumed was a stomach bug. The attendants took blood and urine, everything  was “normal.”  When they came back they all but stripped him of his clothing at told him he wasn’t going anywhere soon. So here he sat, three weeks and nine sessions later still hoping that his kidneys would make a rebound.

    The cute nurse that handled the tubes in his chest often made him laugh over the course of the past week. Granted, it was more often than not at your expense. Minseok could admit, he was grouchy and sluggish from all the medication and often took it out on you. You were never around when he was decent enough to apologize for his actions, so your dynamic consisted of his slurred and sarcastic words and your ‘hmms’ of nonchalance. Your unyielding patience with him made Minseok want to test you. He pouted and refused to listen at times just to see how much you could take. It was a dick move, yes, but it gave such great entertainment until he could be let go from this hell hole.

    With great care and patience, you unhooked him from the machine making sure all his clamps were closed before you sanitized the area on his chest and seal him back up. It took you some time to get the seal to lay flush against his chest.

“Aren’t you a little touchy there, Nurse,” Minseok teased. At least he wasn’t wallowing about being in the ICU today.

“You wouldn’t know what to do with ‘touchy’ so I think it’s best we stop here. Don’t you think?” The mask muffled your sarcastic words.

    As Minseok readied a response, the doctor walked in, surrounded by a plethora of new residents. They followed Dr. Byun like little ducklings chattering amongst themselves. The doctor spoke about how hemodialysis worked, how in Minseok’s particular case his kidneys were not completely gone, they still gave output just not enough. The two of you watched as she explained all of this and then some. You noticed one resident off to the side, the way he looked beyond his professor and at Minseok’s chest was different, to say the least.     The longer you stared, the more you began to notice things that were off about him compared to the others. He was pale, not like the usual Korean pale, but sickly, almost dead, pale. Something about him gave you chills, and he just seemed to have lived for millennia already- his soul was old despite his body remaining young. As Dr. Byun went on with his explanation in the next plan for treatment to get Minseok up and out of here, your eyes widened when you watched the young man's eyes change from their deep rich brown to the iciest shade of grey.

    The extraordinary sight caused your heart to feel as if it had stopped altogether, he must’ve known you had seen him though because his eyes peeled of Minseok and onto you. He gave you this look as if he already knew what you were as well. Motioning towards the door, the young man silently told you to follow him as he suddenly dipped out of the room.     Your eyes followed him out, but before you left you said your goodbyes as the doctor and her residents took their own leave, as well as made sure your patient was comfortable.

“Where are you going?” Minseok jeered as you poured him a cup of water, his eyes looming over you while that toothy smirk sprawled across his face. “Let’s finish our conversation.”

    With a small shake of your head, you handed him the plastic cup while rolling the small bedside table beside him. “I need to go finish my rounds, Mr. Kim-” You replied, “Make sure you stay seated for a little longer before you stand, and remember to press the call button if you need anything else.”

    Minseok scoffed, rolling his eyes at your professionalism while flashing that still adorably handsome grin of his. “Alright, alright, Ms. Y/n.” He playfully retorted, “Go do your business, but once you’re done, you better get back over here and have dinner with me.”  

    You walked out, eyes scanning for ‘young’ resident when a hand shot out and grabbed you by the shoulder. Its grip was absolute and unmoving.  

“Nurse Y/N, a pleasure,”  A lilting voice whispered into your ear.      Your eyes hardened at the sound, it was sickeningly sweet. He was trying to glamour you. You let your shoulders relax and your breathing slow as if he’d succeeded.  His grip loosened as he turned you around to see his handiwork. The smirk on his face dropped as you hemmed him against the wall. A speedy and powerful incantation had him bound until you decided otherwise.

“That wasn’t very nice of you… Resident Eunwoo,” You read off his tag, “How may I help you?”

    The smirk that previously melted from his face returned and grew into a full-blown grin. He fought against the binding as he stared you down, “You’re much more powerful than I would have imagined, Sweetling.” His words made your skin crawl, but they were all the confirmation you needed.

    He looked beyond you back toward Minseok’s room, “He’s going to die, you know. His kidneys aren’t the only problem, there’s a hole in his heart, too tiny for any machine to notice.”

    His warning had your heart dropping inside your chest. Part of you wanted to deny it, but you knew the powers of his kind.  “How-” You muttered, your voice trailing off as you released an elongated sigh, “How long does he have?”

    The vampire shrugged, devilishly grinning- knowing he just struck a nerve. “It’s hard to say.” He smoothly replied, still struggling against your spell. “But if you let me go, I’ll tell you. I might even feel grateful enough to save him.”

Save him…      Your eyes glimmered at his little suggestion, “Really?” You asked, watching as Eunwoo just simply nodded in response. Just as you were about to give in, you guard heightened once more. You remembered your grandmother's warnings when it came to bloodsuckers- they were tricksters, liars. They’d promise you anything your heart desired if it meant they could get what they want. 

    Immediately, you strengthened your intent on your incantation- tightening the hold you had on him, “How do I know you’re not lying? How do I know that the moment I let you go, you won’t just bolt out of here?”

“Look, little Miss Y/n,” Eunwoo scoffed, rolling his changing eyes at your rude assumption, “I don’t know how many others like me you’ve encountered, but by the look in your eyes I’ll assume I’m the first.” His words were cold and stern as he spoke, the playful glint he had in his eyes turned dull, “I don’t go back on my word. You let me go, and I’ll tell you how long the poor sap has- I’ll even let you watch me turn him.” 

    That smile of his returned as he saw your tension ease away at his words. “All I have to do is take some of my blood and put into his IV.” He added, knowing that an explanation of the process would comfort you a bit more than just his promise. “It’s a slow process. First, his body will begin to heal- the hole in his heart will close, then his kidneys will rejuvenate. After the healing process, he’ll begin to experience the side effects of turning- sun sensitivity, mood swings, insatiable hunger or a lack of an appetite…”

    You had to think about this wisely- were you really going to change a man’s entire life, just to save it? “When will he turn com- completely?” You asked.

“Five days.” Eunwoo simply replied, “Five days max. He’ll be a new man, but he’ll be dangerous. His new hunger for blood will consume him and the rage that will weave with it will make him want to devour anyone- and you won’t be an exception.”

    Though you still had your doubts about him, he didn’t seem to have anything to gain from lying. As you gradually lifted his bind, the vampire crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Good, you trust me.” He hummed, “Now, are you sure you want to know?”

    Immediately, you nodded before nervously running your fingers through your hair, “Tell me, that was our deal.”

    Eunwoo nodded, sighing as he turned his eyes to the floor for a split second before glaring back down at you. “I’d give him a week, maybe less.” He began, his tone becoming apologetic the more he spoke. He could feel this odd spiritual connection you seemed to have with the sickly man, and due to living a long life of outliving those he had grown fond of, he pitied you. “His heart is too weak now, and his body is beginning to fail him- even more so than before. He won’t respond to any more treatments. What is the use of dialysis if the blood is already dead?”

    A confused look made its way onto your face. Blood wasn’t “alive.” Sure it was the life source but it didn’t do anything spectacular on its own.  You considered putting the binding back on him but the look  Eunwoo’s eyes spoke the truth. There were some things that couldn’t be explained by science, you of all people knew that.

“Okay..” You said with a huffed breath while nodding, your mind wandered as you thought about your patient. “When do you want to…” Your voice trailed off, “When do you want to do this? When do you want to turn him?” 

    The resident moved his arms from his chest down, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his white coat. “We can do it tonight- while he’s sleeping.” He responded, that smirk dissipating the more serious the conversation became. “No one can know except for the two of us, and him once the process is done. Before he turns completely, we’ll need to get him out of the hospital. His hunger and the need to feed will turn him completely ravenous. He’ll kill doctors, nurses, patients- anyone- to satisfy it. He’ll need to be somewhere far away from the city and secluded.”

Overthinking wreaked havoc inside your mind as he continued- What if you two weren’t able to get him out on time? What if someone caught y’all moving him? How would you even go about explaining it? Oh yeah, we just turned him into a vampire and he has only a day or two to leave the hospital before he turns into a ravenous beast.

“How?” You simply asked, “How would we move him with him lucid and without being caught?”

    Eunwoo pressed his lips together, becoming lost in thought for a moment before looking as if a light went off in his head. “We won’t- well he won’t be lucid. We’ll need to sedate him, mildly at least just so he won’t remember the way out of the city and find his way back somehow after he’s turned.” He explained, clicking his tongue. “But we can get him out through the stairway towards the back of the hospital, I heard it’s been unused for a couple years now, plus it’ll be the quickest way to get to either your or my car.”

    You knew the stairwell he spoke of; it was roped off after the remodeling started a couple years back. They’d just abandoned it along with the old South Wing.  That part of the hospital had always been a maze of hallways and hidden rooms. As long as you moved fast, the two of you could get Minseok out.

“Wait, who is to say he wants any of this? Maybe he would rather die.” The thought brought tears to your eyes. You didn’t want him to pass but if it’s what he preferred then letting it happen would be for the best.

“That human in there wants nothing more than to live,” Eunwoo quelled your fears. “If you are so unsure, ask him yourself. Just let me know before lunch tomorrow”  The air was pregnant with Eunwoo’s words as he sauntered off, disappearing behind the doors that led out of the ICU.

    Minseok watched as you left his room to follow behind that sickly looking resident. He wondered what you could be talking about with a schlep like him. The green haze of jealousy fell over his eyes as his mind raced over the possibilities.  He’d hoped you weren’t dating the resident. Minseok has seen enough hospital dramas to know that one of you would end up dead or a nasty split would happen. The chartreuse monster on his shoulder hoped the latter.     He watched as you made your way back into his room with a crestfallen expression. You quickly grabbed a rolling chair and seated yourself in front of him. Your beautiful features were marred by the nervousness that clutched you.

“Mr. Kim, there is something important that I need to speak with you about. It pertains to your health,” The shakiness in your voice remained relatively hidden in your professionalism. “I doubt they actually got you the forms before snatching you up here but I wish you speak with you about your options.”  

Minseok’s eyebrows arched in confusion, “What options?”

    You licked your lips, a cold sweat started down your back.  You weren’t lying per se but you weren’t telling him the whole truth of what he would become. Still, you needed some sort of answer from him. “I’m afraid to say this, but..” You began, your tone steadying out though it remained sorrowful. You wanted to tell him everything right then and there, but you knew if you did he’d laugh you off. 

    Grabbing one of the chairs from the little bedside table, you dragged over to the spot in front of him before taking a seat. You hated, despised, giving patients news such as this, but it was necessary you did for you allowed Eunwoo to go on with the plan, “I’m sorry, but I- we aren’t sure if treatments will work on you anymore..”

    The usually playful man’s expression became stone, his heart dropped at your words. He couldn’t die- no, he couldn’t. There were too many things he wanted to do- so many things he wanted to accomplish. “But- But, Doctor Byun just sounded so hopeful... H- How could things seem to be beginning to look up and suddenly just come crashing down like this? I don’t understand...” He stuttered out, his voice cracking as he battled with the tears that began to tease his eyes. “Am I going to die, Y/n?”

    An audible gulp emanated from you as your voice seemed to be clogged in your throat. You couldn’t say much, so through your silence, you just offered him a simple nod. “But..” You finally said as you tried rationalizing you and the resident’s plan. “But there’s an experimental treatment, I can try to get it to you- but I need to know…”

“You need to know what!?” Minseok nearly shouted, scooting to the edge of his seat as he instinctively intertwined his hands with yours.

    You could feel the blood rush to your cheeks, not only from his sudden show of affection- whether it was intentional or not- but his gestures silently confirmed his desire to live. “I know it may be a stupid question, but do you want to live?” You asked, though you knew the answer. “The drug is experimental, but..”

    Again he cut you off, eagerly nodding as his grasp on your hands tightened. “Of course I do!” He replied, using whatever strength he had to pull you near. Once you were close enough, he rested his forehead against yours while his thumbs grazed your knuckles, “I don’t want to die, Y/ n.. I’m not ready yet..”

“I know..” You airily replied as a soft sigh slipped past your lips. “I’m going to try to help you as much as I can, okay?”

    The two of you stayed there, just as you were for a moment longer; the complete emotional distress you both seemed to be under only brought you closer, even if it were only for the time being. Your heart really ached for him, because though he was so successful and so young- he seemed to have been missing something. He had to have, you could feel that void he carried with him.

    Slowly, you moved away from him, reluctantly retracting your hands from his as you stood from your seat. “Where are you going?” He asked, peering up at you with this saddened glint in his eyes that made him look like an injured animal. It felt as if he were silently begging you to stay, to not leave him alone.

    You offered Minseok a sweet reassuring smile as you gently rubbed the backs of his hands, “I’ll be back later, okay?” You replied, “I promise, but I need to talk to the doctor in charge of the medication. Are you sure you want this though?”     The question that left you had you feeling like such a fraud. You lied through your teeth, speaking about the vampiric virus as if it were a simple vaccine- asking him if it were what he wanted though he no clue about what was really about to happen to him.

    Minseok watched you go with a doleful expression. Your back looked tense as you scurried from the room. He thought of what you’d just told him. Being here in this damned room wasn’t worth shit if it the “ treatments weren’t working.”  Four hours of his life were taken three times a week here.     While it may sound like a pittance to some, it meant the world to Minseok. He could think of a million things he’d rather do, like getting to know the nurse a little more...intimately. You consumed all of his waking thoughts for the past few days. He’d grown quite attached to you in a short period of time.  You always smiled so wide and genuinely, even if he could only see the outline beneath the mask you wore while changing his bandages... The contour of your neck was so artful to him as it slid down into your shoulder.

    You made your way around, spoke to patients and families, tried your best to get your work done. The pitiful look on Minseok’s face was burned into your eyelids. How are you supposed to do this to him? What was going to happen?       Eunwoo has been more than brief in his explanation. There was a possibility that your grandmother’s grimoire had information on it. The book was placed in a special case hidden under your bed. You hadn’t touched it since she passed. Your mind’s eye conjured an image of the small case and the book inside. It was thick, bound in inky black leather. The pages, yellowed with age, were filled with the promise of magic and power. You could hear the crinkle of the paper, the smell of ink-stained parchment filled your nose. Yes, there would be something in there, even the smallest details would help.

    The day shifted into the afternoon and melted into the evening. You could see more and more stars popping into existence. The translucent moon became more opaque as the sun began to sink below the horizon. Your shift was coming to a close and your feet hurt. The throbbing in your legs became unbearable and a pained moan slipped through your lips.

“What a pretty sound. You should be careful about making them so freely.” Eunwoo seemed to appear from nowhere as he joined you at the Nurse’s Station.  His coal black eyes shimmered with amusement. “Tell me, Witchling, what has the mortal said?”

    You thought back to the conversation you had with Minseok. You felt the aching will to live that radiated off him as he tightly held your hands. ‘I don’t want to die’ His words rang through your mind as you stayed there silent for a moment longer. “Do it..” You faintly replied, sighing as you began sorting through files and paperwork that scattered your station. “He wants to live, just as you said. And if he wants to live- then he should..”

    Eunwoo nodded in agreement, smirking as his eyes crawled over you. “Very well then,” He politely replied, resting his intertwined hands on top the counter. “You know, Miss Y/n, you’re quite nice on the eyes.” Taking a deep inhale at the air around you, an impish smirk painted across his face. “You smell heavenly as well. It’s so very tempting.”

    You felt your chest tighten at his words, and instinctively you kept your eyes glued to the extensive paperwork. “I suggest you don’t say things like that.” You huffed, “I’ll put you another bind on you, but it won’t be as gentle as my last one.”

    Your little warning earned you one of his soft chuckles. Running his fingers through his brunette hair, he nodded, “I’m sure you will,” He hummed, “Such a feisty little witchling, aren’t you?”

“Bet your tall ass I am.” You wittily responded while putting each paper in its correct file. “So tonight?” You asked, keeping your voice monotone despite the previous joking around.

    Eunwoo’s face hardened and all traces of teasing left his face. “Yes, here is the syringe with my blood in it.” He placed it in your palm, the scent of iron still clinging to it.     Despite the thick plastic, you could feel the warmth of Eunwoo’s blood sitting inside.  Staring at the vial there was something off about it. You’d handled many blood bags in your days but they felt as “heavy” as the syringe in your hand.

“Careful witchling, that’s not human blood. My kind may drink from others but yours have too much fun. Blood Magic, powerful shit,” Eunwoo jabbed.

    He was right but you’d never even thought to dabble in that, especially without a proper teacher. Still, the blood sung out to you. It whispered tantalizing promises and made the hair on the nape of your neck stand. You pocketed the syringe and tried to forget about it as the night wore on. Some patients were moved to lower floors, others had some minor aches and pains, overall a quiet evening.     You watched as the clock struck seven for the second time that day, gathered your things and clocked out. Officially, you were gone, everyone “saw” you leave and said their goodbyes. A little bit of work and a glamour of your own left you virtually invisible.  Now you were just another faceless attending nurse.

    You went to check on Minseok to find him peacefully sleeping sprawled out in bed. Your eyes drifted to the permacath in his chest. It was covered in layers of sanitized cloth and tape. The lump of protection was visible beneath his gown as it stood proudly on his chest. Even in the sickly artificial light of the room, his cheeks were still flushed. You wondered how he could be so lively even though he was dying.      Stealthily, you crossed the room and lay your palm on his forehead. He was warm and fleshy like all people were. You’d expected death to already have its grips around Minseok. 

    He stirred, soft moans leaving his mouth. You froze, afraid he would wake before you were ready. As he settled down again you closed your eyes and let tingle in your fingertips move into your palm. Tendrils of magic left your hand and sank into him, searching for the sickness inside. The feeling of death swaddled you as you continued to “feel” your way around. It was clear that he was dying but it still felt too ambiguous. Eunwoo has told you the truth, there was a tiny hole in his heart and his kidneys were definitely failing.     Your eyebrows furrowed, there was something else you were missing! It came to you a strike of lightning. It was his blood. Eunwoo’s words from earlier struck you. Minseok’s blood was dead, there was no mana in it. His body was simply acting as a machine, soon enough it would break down.

    You drew your hand away from him, shaken by your revelation. The pounding of your heart deafened you to Eunwoo’s entrance. “Y/N?” He softly called out to you, his tone littered with concern.

    You looked over to where he stood by the entrance, staring you down. His normally gaunt face softened in concern. The syringe in your pocket felt like boulder holding you in place.

“I’m okay. Let’s get this done.” Your voice was scratchy as if you hadn’t used it in centuries.

    The vampire strolled to the other side of Minseok’s bed pulling a bag of blood from his coat pocket. He set the IV up; soft beeps from the machine felt like blaring horns going off around you.  Eunwoo reached across the bed to show an outstretched palm.

“My blood, please.” He chuckled at the irony of the statement. “How rare it is that a vampire asks for his own blood?”

    You gripped the syringe with a sweaty palm and thrust it into his hand.  Using a port on the bottom blood bag Eunwoo inserted his own. You could sense a difference, although there was no outward change. You imagined how his blood cells would ‘infect’ the bag, gobbling up the others cells and spitting them back transformed. You watched as blood rushed down the tube and flowed into Minseok’s arm.  The pounding of your heart returned tenfold.

    As Eunwoo finish injecting every last bit of his blood into the bag, he quickly put the needles protective cap back on and shoved it into his pocket. “He might seem to experience a little discomfort as my blood travels begin to travel through his veins.” He warned, seeing and feeling the anxiety that riddled you as Minseok began to toss and whimper. “It’s normal, and you may want to help him, but there’s nothing you can do- you just have to allow him to ride the pain out.”

One Month Later…

    Every day since that fateful encounter with Eunwoo- since you two turned Minseok, you slowly stopped going to work altogether after the two of you were able to safely get Minseok out of the hospital.     You remembered the lengthy drive up a winding road that led to a beautiful three-story house that was nearly completely made of glass and charcoal colored bricks. Then as Eunwoo helped get him into the house, you remembered just sitting with him while he laid on the couch until he woke up. His bloodshot eyes worriedly fixated on you after hurriedly glancing around his unfamiliar surroundings, but before you or he could say a word- Eunwoo ushered you out.

“You need to go now,’ He commanded through his sweet tone, “Once he fully turns, you won’t be safe. I’ll be here to make sure he doesn’t do anything drastic and I’ll explain everything that’s happening to him. So don’t worry, okay?”

    You speedily made your departure, sure not to look back as Minseok called out for you. The air around the cabin was tumultuous energies clashing, merging and falling apart again. You ran for the car shaky hands clutching the wheel as you drove off. You flew through the night back to your apartment, unsure of what would happen next. 

    Trembling you reached beneath your bed, to find your grandmother’s grimoire. You urgently flipped back and forth desperate to know something about what was happening so many miles away.     Your eyes ate the yellowed pages filled with charts and entries as you sat on your with knees bent on the floor for hours; drinking in all the information you could fathom. When you’d finally found the entry on blood exchange and vampires a sob broke free of your mouth. Your back ached from leaning over so long, your eyes reddened and tired were ready to close. You made note of the section and dragged yourself to bed.

    From that evening onward, you kept studying vampires and blood transfer, even a little bit of Blood Magic. Eunwoo hadn’t been lying, it was some powerful shit. It took immense concentration to complete the smallest of rituals and even those came with a hefty price.

    You sat in the center of your bed grimoire spread out, the pages flapping happily at being used again, with your laptop seated in your lap. Over the past month, it had become a comfort of sorts. Magic spilled from its pages saturating you and the bedroom creating this synergy and peace throughout you and your place.     As you continue to study, the sudden ringing of your phone drew you from you stroll down memory lane. You reached, squishing your laptop between the bed and your body to reach the device. The name that appeared on screen made all the color drain from your face.

“H-Hello, Eunwoo. How may I help you,” You asked primly.

    You could hear the strain in his deep chuckle on the other end of the line. “Now Y/N, don’t treat me like such a stranger. We’ve got a history together, you know. I was so sad to hear you’d ‘departed’ from the hospital.”

You cleared your throat, “Um, yes.  Well, these things happen. May I ask why you called?”

“Oh let's drop the falsehoods, Witchling. Your man is out and about, control hanging by the smallest thread. I’ve called to warn you. Don’t go anywhere near the hospital. We’ll talk later.” Eunwoo’s clipped voice and the subtle beep signaled the end of that conversation.

    Your eyes widened at the information you were just given. If he was ‘out and about’ already then he was looking to feed.       Frantically, you turned to the grimoire hoping that you’d misremembered a passage or two about the given situation. The book sensing your panic fluttered and flipped trying its best to help you get to the information faster. Tracing the words with your finger you reread the passage:

‘Newly-turned vampires will look to feed on the blood of a human or those of the “Other” after about a month's time. These creatures of the night, born again will fixate on either the scent of their beloved or will find the nearest being that suites their taste. In rare occasions, they will hunt for one who initiated their turn as they are the last human memory garnered before turning. A warning to this individual, lest you be “Other” and ancient it is best to avoid the newly turned beast. They are mercurial and volatile.’

    You sat back, biting your chapped lips. You didn’t know how but you knew he was looking for you. If he was skulking around the last place he really saw you, then that had to be it, right? That was what you reasoned with yourself. The time read 5:56pm on your laptop you’d since thrown to the side.     With a hefty sigh, you tossed yourself back onto your mattress- rubbing your temples as you pondered on what you should do.

    Minseok growled as your scent continued to fade. He followed it as far as he could, but couldn’t seem to track you anymore. “Where the fuck are you, Y/n?” He snarled to himself as he stalked around outside of the hospital, trying his hardest to find even a whiff of your sweet scent again. “Why are you hiding from me?” Kicking a broken branch out of his way, he went on. There had to be a place you would’ve gone to- your home, but where was it?

    The vampire bared his teeth as he thought back, trying to regain any of his memories while he was still human though it was futile, the last memories he had of you were the days that he remained in that blasted hospital until he woke up with you beside him- in that house, he preferred to call a prison, then as you left without even turning back.     He needed to find you. He wanted to taste just how sweet you really were, his hunger would be insatiable until he found you.

    As he started towards the parking lot, movement caught his eye. Immediately, he ran towards it, hoping it was you, but as he came to a halt- he realized it wasn’t.      He stood a good distance away and looked the woman up and down, comparing her frame to yours. She wasn’t you, but he was starving. His mouth watered as he smelt her blood while it flowed through her body. A crooked grin grew on Minseok’s face as he stalked toward her. He made sure his steps were light, unintimidating in the darkness. 

The vampire came upon her and grasped her shoulder gently. “Excuse me, Miss. I believe you dropped something,” his voice hid his dark intentions. 

    The young woman turned, large eyes wandering over Minseok’s face. He’d charmed her without a glamour, feline features drawing her in. She didn’t know who this strange man was but she could feel her blood pump faster and move south.

“Um, what was it? My ID?” She asked mousily. 

    Minseok could read her like a book. The arousal spilling off her smelled like warm, spiced vanilla. Her pupils were blown out and her heart was about to jump from her chest.

    Gently he placed a fallen strand of hair behind her ear. Her heart beat even faster. It seemed to Minseok she liked ‘classical’ romance.  A small closed-mouthed smile sat on his lips. This would be over quickly.

“I’m sorry,” he started, “you didn’t drop anything I just wanted a chance to speak with you.”

    The young lady nearly fainted. Never had a man come to her in such a way and never one as gorgeous the one in front of her. His steadying hand in her waist made her blush all the way down to her chest. Ready to respond she looked up into his eyes only the struck silent at their beauty. Suddenly she would give her life for him. Do anything he asked.

    Minseok’s stomach cramped in pain as he sold her honied words. He didn’t have the time to ‘court’ her so he decided to use his new built-in cheat. When their eyes met he glamours her. He caressed her delicate face, fingers drifting to her neck where her pulse thrummed beneath his fingers.

“Good girl, now stay still,” a hand tangled in her hair to give better access to the juncture of her throat and shoulder.

    Your legs pumped as you ran from the hospital into the parking lot. Minseok wasn’t in the building but he was definitely near. You’d managed to dip and dodge Eunwoo who would have surely told you to return home. Your head whipped left and right looking for any sign of the “man” you’d once treated. A little ways off to the left you could make out two forms, a man and woman. They seemed to be having a conversation. You initially disregarded it, thought it to be a regular couple as you continued to search.

    Biting your lower lip in complete and utter frustration, you moved down the parking lot- going little ways past the couple before you decided to shout. Maybe if I call- or he hears my voice, he’ll come to me instead.

“Minseok!” You shouted into the tense air that surrounded you and leaked into the parking lot. “Min- Minseok, it’s me. It’s Y/n! I heard you were looking for me!”

    The vampire’s head shot up before he could indulge himself. You enticing scent and melodic voice invaded his senses. Without a second guess, he pushed the young woman onto the floor. “Sorry, love-” He snarled as she slowly came out of his trance. “-The one I’ve been looking for is here.”

    He carelessly stepped over her legs as he took in your smell- following it until the middle of the parking lot. Your decadence enraptured him as his glowing orbs rested on your worn out converse before traveling up your shapely legs.

“Finally..” He purred, a primal smirk rested on his face as his gaze locked with yours. “Where have you been, my sweet?” He lowly asked, strutting over to you slowly then suddenly closing the gap between the two of you. “Are you afraid of me now? Are you afraid of the monster you created?”

    His rumbled words had you shivering and the odd warm iciness that radiated off him as he neared had you on edge.     Taking a step back, you shook your head; keeping eye contact with him. “No- No I’m not..” You stuttered, gulping as he once again closed the gap but this time he swiftly wrapping his arms around your waist pulling you close. “But I’m going you to need to come home with me okay? I can help you, I can help you live a normal life- just come with me..”

    You pat at his chest as you tried to calm the thumping in your own. His grip tightened around your waist, held you against the steel plate of his chest. Fear ate its way through you, all the time you’d put into learning meant little to nothing in this moment.     Your throat constricted as you looked past Minseok to the young woman passed out on the ground. She was safe as long as you kept his attention away from her. You contemplated whether being a martyr was ever truly worth it. Here in this moment to save not only her but Minseok you decided it was the right thing to do. You relaxed in his grip and steeled yourself for the inevitable.

“Am I not interesting enough for you, Y/N?” The irritation in Minseok’s voice was clear. He saw the way your eyes emptied out as you looked beyond him, sucked into your own world. He snarled in indignation.  

    The dim lighting of the parking lot made it the perfect setting for him to take you. He snatched your hair and pulled your head sideways exposing the expanse of your throat. Without touching or tasting he could tell the skin there was supple, his fangs would sink into you delectably.     A low hiss slid out of Minseok’s mouth, your pulse jumped just below your skin so prettily. The vampire bent his head and swiped his tongue over your neck. The tingle of magic on his tongue made him groan low in his throat.

“Y/N, just what are you?”  Minseok panted as he nipped over your collarbones. The taste of your skin was intoxicating and entrancing. He wanted to lick at all the parts of you still covered and to drain all the blood from your form. He reasoned that he could accomplish both feats if he played his cards right and controlled himself.

    His hot breath whispering over your chest made your eyes flutter shut. The urge to give in and let him have his way was overpowering as he continued to tug at your hair. The heated kisses and languid licks he trailed over your skin made you thob. His fangs scraped against your throat leaving rising welts behind. The thought of how his fangs would sink into your neck, blood filling his mouth made a small moan burst from your lips.     You knew he wanted to consume you, was at his most dangerous in this frenzy and you wanted him to take you.  The fantasy you built in your mind had him hovering over you, face stained with your blood after feeding on you.  His fangs would glint as a crazed and lust filled smile sat on his beautiful face. Those red eyes peered into you as he kissed down your body leaving a bloody trail behind him. His mouth would creep lower and lower until he met your aching heat.

“Y/N, Oh baby what are you thinking about? I can smell it on you, Darling.” Minseok rubbed his nose along the shell of your ear. You smelled of something dark and rich, spicy and indescribable. He loved the way you reacted to him. You were so willing and supple in his arms, just the way you seemed to melt into him as he enticing your alert flesh was utter perfection.

    Though you attempted to verbalize your sinful thoughts, nothing but mumbled soft whines. “Minseok..~” You finally crooned, your long fingernails digging into his clothes chest; dragging down towards his toned abdomen. “I..”

    His tongue flicked against your neck once again, leading more of your honeyed sounds out of you. “Such a naughty little thing…” He purred, the vibrations from his thundered tone heightened your arousal. “I love it- Your scent is so tempting, so magical- it’s as if you have some sort of spell on me... It makes me want to devour you in every fucking way possible.”

    Again his words, even his ironic statement had you enamored with his teasing lips and tongue. “Please do- I want to feel you..” You involuntarily mewled as you became completely flooded by your lust. Your chest rose and fell with every heavy breath you took.

    Slowly, the vampire began to move the two of you towards the shadows of the parking lot. His strong grip around you never left as he pressed your back into one of the cold, cement pillars. His free hand gracefully strode over your flushed cheek before wrapping perfectly around our throat, giving the sides a solid squeeze as he crashed his lips against yours.     The two of you consumed each other with pure lust, hunger, and desperation for one another. You could practically see the electricity that connected y’all just before your eyes seemed to roll back into your skull as the kiss deepened. His tongue swiped against your lower lip, begging for an entrance and the moment your lips parted, his muscle invaded your mouth; entangling it with yours in a needy power struggle.

    A throaty growl emanated from him as his hold on your waist tightened; his fingers that rested on your opposite side bruisingly pressed into you as he fought to control himself, but just the taste of you drove him and his senses insane.            Though he was more than sure he had full and total control over you, he began questioning it as he found it hard to break away. You seemed to have as much of a hold on him as he had on you.

    Reluctantly, he pulled away, leaving only centimeters between the two of you as he removed his arm from around your waist using his newly freed hand to join the other snug around your delicate neck. “I want to taste you..” He growled, using his sharpening fingernails to scrape the junctures of your throat. “I’m so hungry for you, my little girl-” He continued, the sweet yet sudden pet name slipping from him like velvet. “Every part of me craves you. I want to just sink my teeth into that pretty neck of yours and taste you.. Will you let me?”

    His question rang through your head. Biting your lower lip, your earlier thoughts invaded your lust clouded mind once again. His fangs puncturing your neck, blood filling his mouth and slowly trickling down- reaching your supple breasts. Then, as his hands ran down your body; smearing your fluid with it.  The thoughts only caused you to melt as he moved one hand from your throat, leaning in and using his sharp fangs and long tongue to tease your flesh.

“I- I..” You whimpered through the soft gasps, “I can’t.. You’ll kill me..”

    You shuddered as you felt his hot breath against your skin, your little statement earning one of his chilling snickers. “You’re such a silly little girl, aren’t you Y/n?” He jeered, easing up on his teasing. “What makes you think I’d ever harm you, darling?”

“Y-You’ve just been turned, Minseok,” You whispered, “You wouldn’t be able to control yourself.”

    Control. He’d been locked in that damn house to work on his control for a month. Minseok had always been a good study and restriction was just another skill he’d picked up along the way.  That hellish month away taught him more discipline that he’d learned in a lifetime.

“Trust me, Pet. Let it happen.” He purred, sweeping your hair away as he moved his hand from the side of your neck. Leaning in, his lips parted; planting sweet kisses along your awakened flesh, feeling you just melt at his touch. “Do you trust me?” He airily asked, flicking his tongue against the areas he marked.

    You gasped and whimpered as your hips began to buck up towards him, every part of you ached for him. Though you knew you shouldn’t, that you may very well lose your life to him, you just simply nodded as his question weakened your guard. “I do..” You hummed in response, clawing at his shirt the second you felt his fangs present on your skin.

Minseok’s lips curled into a grin, “Good,” He retorted, taking in your delicious scent. “It’ll only hurt for a moment, my pet, but I promise-” He began in a deep growled tone, “-I’ll take good care of you afterward..”

Before you could say a thing, his fangs broke skin, “Ahh!~” You loudly whined, struggling between him and the cool wall behind you as his dagger-like teeth sank deeper into your flesh.

    A throaty snarl emanated from him as your blood began trickling into his mouth. The balance of sweet yet salty flavor your blood was laced with was heavenly, his eyes rolled back as he drank you- adoring the way you coated his tongue and slipped down his throat. Your blood, your taste, made him realize the intensity of the starvation he felt before you.

    He held you there, feeling you become unsteady as he fed. He knew if he didn’t stop soon you’d either end up in the hospital… or dead. His hand that was still wrapped around the affliction free part of your throat tightly gripped you as he reluctantly pulled away. Your blood dripped from his fangs to his plush lips then down his chin before making its way onto your gorgeous skin.

“Mhmm,” He hummed licking his lips before pressing them against the little-dotted wounds, “I told you I could control myself, princess..” He added through his continued gentle attack on the injured area. “Want Daddy to make you feel better?”

“Daddy?” You delicately repeated, the sudden dominant pet name caused the warmth in your core to spread through you entirely. Your thighs weakly pressed and rubbed together as your mind went wild with thoughts of him taking you while you cried out the endearing nickname.

     That devilish smirk of his returned as he listened to the pet name slip from your kiss-swollen lips then as the scent of your heightened arousal invaded his nose. “Oh, such a naughty little girl..” He purred, moving his mouth from the crook of your neck to your jaw- taking small yet harsh nips at your skin along the way. “You like that? You like calling me Daddy, don’t you sweetheart?”

    Though you nodded in response, your head still felt light and your body tingled all over. The feel of his mouth on your skin lit you ablaze. You became brazen in your lust, threaded your fingers through his fluffy hair moaning for more.

“Daddy, please…” The word was like a foreign treat in your mouth, “ Please have me.”  

    The offer of your submission fogged Minseok’s mind. The scent of your blood and wetness combined fanned the flames of his hunger. He would not wait for beds and softness now. Maybe another time but he needed to be inside you.       Minseok wrapped his hand around your throat as he guided you back into the side of a little red car. You went so easily, mewling and panting for more. He thought you looked ravishing. The way your eyes clouded with unshed tears, an ethereal blush creeping down your body. The two holes from his fangs became surrounded by blotchy bruises reminded him of flowers. You were his pretty little tulip.  

    The car handle dug into your hip as he harshly pressed you against the car. His hand ran down your back, lightly ghosting his nails over your spine before reaching and groping your bum. “Fuck,” He grumbled, giving you an unforgiving swat. “You’ve got such a pretty little ass, but I think it’ll be just stunning after I bruise it up. Don’t you agree?”

    Immediately, you nodded as tears pricked your eyes. “Yes- Yes, Daddy.~” You shakily mewled back, perking your hips up and back towards him- enticing him with a playful little wiggle. “Mark me up, please…”

“So willing..” He hummed, hooking his long digits around the waistband of your bottoms; teasing the flesh underneath for a moment before swiftly yanking the clothing down, exposing your supple behind. “I bet I could do whatever I desired with you, and you’d just take it like a good little slut, hm?” He growled as he pressed and rubbed his hardened crotch into you.

    Again you nodded while sweet, desperation moans left you. You felt goosebumps rise on your skin as his hand moved down, inching closer and closer to your dripping heat. A soft whimper emanated from you the closer he came.

    Minseok snickered as he grazed your slit, feeling your slickness coat his fingertips. “Wow, you’re so fucking wet, princess..” He teased, diving deeper into your slit- adding pressure every time he passed your clit. “I bet I could make you come right now. It’d be so fucking effortless with how horny I have you.”

    He was right, in this tender state you could have come untouched. Your arousal dripped between your thighs as your pussy screamed for friction. You squeezed his hand as it rests between your legs, crazed and desperate for any form of relief.

   Another strike came down on your thigh, vibrations traveled to your core. Lightening flicked your spine at the combination of pleasure and pain. “Control yourself,” Minseok rasped in your ear. His voice, thick with heady lust, made you wetter. “You left me waiting in that shitty cabin, here is your penance.”

    The vampire rubbed his hands over your chest, palming your breasts roughly. His claws ran over your nipples making them jut out obscenely.

    Minseok’s eyebrows arched and settled as a smile grew in his face. “No bra? Here I was thinking you were so proper. You continue to surprise me.” He pinched your nipples rolling them between his fingers until your pants became breathy moans.  

“How sensitive,” The vampire commented to himself. He raised the material of your shirt and bent you over the hood of the car.  

    You let out an audible gasp as the cold metal came into contact with your chest and your bottom felt a draft of air.  The softness of your ass made Minseok melt just a bit. The crimson splotches across your lower back made his dick twitch.  

“I’m going turn you black and blue. You’re going to thank me for it, understand?”  Minseok grabbed your ass, his nails pricking and leaving small indents in your smooth skin.

    You resisted the urge to moan again and simply nodded your head in affirmation. The blows came quickly in rapid succession, one cheek and then the other. The welts that were surely forming did not have enough time to raise up before the next strike came. The cushy top of your thighs were on fire as he moved from just your ass.     You tried to claw forward away from the slaps as tears sprung from your eyes, but his steel grip on your hip kept you in place. The pleas shot between clenched teeth as your orgasm sat on knife’s edge. The pain was delicious, pushing you further toward coming. Your clit throbbed continuously as the slickness between your thighs dripped down onto your underwear; soaking the thin material.

    Minseok could feel the ache in his fangs as the blood rose to the top of your skin. It sat so close to the surface showing as the most darling bruises.  “Now, what do we say, Y/N?”

“Th- Thank you, Daddy.” You tearfully cried out, bucking your hips back towards him as you rested your forehead against the warming metal of the car’s hood. “Thank you so much..”

    The vampire chuckled at the pure desperation that was dripping from each word that you spoke. “Mhmm, such a good little slut-” He snarled, digging and clawing his way up from the backs of your sore thighs up to your welting bum before giving it one last final hit. “Again, baby, what do you say?”

“Ahh~,” You shakily hummed, squeezing your eyes shut as your thighs trembled while your body rode out the harsh electricity that ran throughout your entire form. “Tha- Thank you, thank you, Daddy.”

    Your whimpered thanks brought forth the most deviant thoughts in Minseok’s mind. He gave you a moment’s reprieve as he loosened his belt and popped open the button on his jeans. He pulled his dick from his pants and stroked himself as he gazed upon your body, laid over some stranger’s car.     With your legs spread open in such an inviting manner, he could see how your lips trembled anxiously waiting to be touched.  Minseok rubbed himself along your heat as more of your essence dripped down.

    The feel of Minseok tapping his dick against your entrance made you clench, the ache of not being filled drove you closer to madness.     You reached behind slipping two of your slender digits between your lips to spread yourself wider for him- hoping it’d entice him enough to give you what you needed. “Fuck me.”

    He chuckled darkly at your shameless display. It thrilled him to the very core to see you so needy, in fact, it brought forth one of his few remaining memories. You’d told him he wouldn't know what to do with touchy. How wrong you were and now you’d suffer for it. Minseok rolled into your pussy slowly, savoring the feel of your heated core.     A hiss rose from the between his teeth and melted into a throaty groan. His hips ground into you slowly, stroking deep inside. He watched as you covered him in your creamy wetness with deep satisfaction. The vampire drank in the sound of your breathless groans. He fucked you with intention, pulled himself nearly free and re-entered you with a long hard stroke. He twisted his hips, hitting everywhere inside of you, except the one place that mattered.

    The side of your face rested on the hood of the car as your mouth sat agape. Minesok was a wonder inside of you. The way he filled you completely, giving you the ultimate relief all while still teasing you had you seeing the stars and heavens.

“Da- Daddy.~” You breathlessly panted, your lower lip quivered as your body began silently nagging you for something more. You needed for him to give your most sensitive spot the attention it craved in order to toss you over the edge into that wonderfully dark abyss. “More, please.”

    Minseok wickedly grinned as the most sinful grunts and groans left him. He knew exactly what you wanted, what your body needed, but he wanted you to suffer there- longing for your release, just a while. “Beg.” He simply commanded, bruisingly gouging your hips with his fingertips as the blunt edges of his fingernails lanced into your flesh. “Beg and I might give you what you want, slut.”

    The degrading word only seemed to solidify your submission to him. Turning back towards him, your teary gaze met his heavy-lidded eyes. You could see the gorgeous greys and blues that speckled his iris swirl with lust while his dilated pupils fixated on your face.

“Please, Daddy.” You delicately whimpered, your voice trailing off for a second as he suddenly quickened his strokes. “I- I..” You struggled to speak as he stayed there, continuously fucking you through your pleas.

“What was that, whore?” He snarled while one hand cascaded up your arched back, tracing your spine before tightly weaving it in your messy hair. “Daddy can’t understand you when you sound so fucked out. Speak up.” He cruelly jeered.

    Your fingers curled and scraped against the metal, flakes of red paint stayed underneath your fingernails as you continue your attempt in finding something to grasp- something to center you even just for a second to allow you to go on with your shameless begging.

    As he began adjusting his footing, Minseok kept his grip on your hair while his thrusting came to a halt.  “Come on, babygirl,” He jeered, punctuating his words with a harshening hold. “Isn’t this what you-” Suddenly, his thrusts started up again only this time they relentlessly pounded against the hypersensitive area- forcing out your divine moans as your body melted and trembled beneath him, “Isn’t this what you wanted?” He continued his question, keeping up with his unforgiving pace. “Beg for it- Nice and pretty, and Daddy will keep giving you what you want. Come on, be a good little girl.”

    The sensation of him perfectly slamming into you in the slightly new angle, hitting your most sensitive spot, was unlike anything else. Your mind and body were nearly mush as his cock intoxicated you.

“P-Please..” You airily rasped, your voice going as your moans and cries shredded your vocal chords. “Please don- don’t stop, I’ll be a good girl, Daddy. Please..” A warmth began to tickle the backs of your eyes as tears gradually filled your waterline- trickling from the corners of your eyes. Your body couldn’t take any more teasing and you were filled to the absolute brim with the undeniable urge to come. “Please, don’t stop, Daddy. I want you- I want you to fill me up, just like this..”

“Mhmm… I don’t think so.  Good girls take what they’re given and they like it.” Minseok pulled you up and deposited you on your knees in front of him.  The swiftness of the moment left you disoriented and clutching at him for stability.

    Your eyes came into contact with his leaking member. It stood proudly slicked with your juices and his precum. Minseok stroked himself as he peered down at you. Saliva swelled in your mouth as he positioned himself on your bottom lip.

“Suck.” He growled his one-worded command.

    You surged forward taking as much of him in your mouth as you could. Your tongue curled along the underside of his dick as your hand pumped what your mouth couldn’t take. You bobbed your head with what little strength remained.

    His hand tilted your face upward as he ran fingers through your hair. “Look at me. Tell me how it tastes, Babygirl,” Minseok growled through clenched teeth.

    Your jaw slackened as you slid off, a line of saliva hanging from your bottom lip “We taste so good, Daddy. More please.”

    Minseok looked into your eyes and continued to rub the tips of his fingers along your jaw. You were so perfect for him. Your pouty lips and wanton expression were enough to bring his orgasm to the surface. It curled around his spine and settled in his stomach spreading warmth all over his body. He placed one hand in your hair wrenching you back, your mouth falling open in a soft ‘o.’

“Pretty baby, I’m going to wreck you.” Minseok thrust himself back into your mouth, fucking your throat ferociously. He rocked his hips into your face with no remorse. Your eyes rolled back, the burning sensation in your chest growing stronger with each second. It was the most pleasant sting. His grunts were the sweetest music. His grip tightened as his hips stuttered.

“Take it all,” Each word was punctuated with a sloppy thrust. Minseok threw his head back as he came in your mouth. 

    You swallowed the bitter liquid and sucked him clean while futilely attempting to keep all his cum in your mouth. As your lips parted just enough for your tongue to swipe across them, some of his warm spunk escaped you and dribbled down your chin.  You gasped as the air filled your lungs, the burn slowly subsiding.

    Minseok watched as you caught your breath, lust sated. He smoothed his hands over your face, smearing the cum over your swollen mouth.

“You did so well, my flower. Let me give you your reward.” Minseok cradled you and gently placed you back on the car. Your limp body sprawled out, muscles happy to be relaxed. He kissed up your thighs kneading the flesh. His fangs trailed over your silky skin, raising new marks.

    The ceiling watched you as you lay with your eyes closed. The hair on your arms raised as Minseok’s breath wafted over your core. His thumbs spread you open and you shuddered. His tongue flicked against your clit briskly. “Fuck...fuck, Daddy~” Your entire body trembled as your release built inside again.

    Minseok hummed at the taste of your arousal. You tingled in his tongue in the best of ways, the most delectable ambrosia. “You’re so delicious, babygirl..” He purred, diving back into your drenched heat- feeling his softened member hardening once again as your essence coated his tongue.

    Your head pressed it to the heated metal hood as your loud, melodic moans filled the parking lot once again. Your body squirmed the deeper his muscle dove inside your cunt, the more he relentlessly licked and prodded your most sensitive spot. Every part of you melted on top of the car as you allowed the sensation to overwhelm you and nudge you right towards your impending high.

“Da-Daddy..~” You breathlessly mewled, moving your hips back to match every thrust he gave you with his sinful tongue. “I need to… cum- so, so bad..”

    Your needy words didn’t interrupt his meal though, in fact, they only persisted him to continue eating you as if you were his last meal. The way his tongue fucked your sopping hole and the way his hand trailed up between your legs; his long digits immediately finding their way to your engorged bud, rubbing it in torturously mind-blowing circular motions, had your eyes rolling back into your skull.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck..” You repeatedly cursed, your body trembled and your breath staggered as you found yourself teetering on that edge. “I- I..” You stuttered, your voice trailed off as a lovely cry escaped you the second that harsh orgasmic wave pushed you right over into that heavenly chasm.

    Minseok growled into your core as your walled clenched around his tongue, squeezing it as your clit spasmed- your delectable juices flowing out of you and into his mouth like a sweet reward. “Mhmm,” He hummed against you, the vibrations of his low rumbled tone had you shaking. Though his fingers let up on you, his mouth didn’t- he wanted you to tremble and cry out for him as he heightened the intensity of your high.

    Your legs violently wobbled, almost giving way, as he continued his relentless tongue fucking- swirling around your inside, lapping up every bit of your nectar. You reached back, your hand becoming entangled in his hair while trying to push him away. You couldn’t take anymore if he continued you’d dwell into that pained cloud of overstimulation then forced into another orgasm.

“Pl-Please, I can’t take it..” You whimpered, your lower lip quivered as your spoke. “Too- Too much..”

    The vampire chuckled as he slowly lifted his mouth off you, planting sweet kisses along your inner thighs while listening to your breathy whines as you attempted to you calm your hypersensitive body down. “My sweet girl, is Daddy too much for you?” He jeered, rising from his spot behind you.

    Nothing but a shaky whine emanated from you as you just placidly lay there, barely able to move or even bat an eye.     Leaning over you, Minseok’s lips curled into a smile as he grazed the tip of his nose against the nape of your neck. “Daddy’s gonna-” Before he could finish speaking the loud, echo of footsteps coming towards the two of you filled the silencing parking lot.

    You lazily turned your gaze towards the incoming person only to see it was Eunwoo, clicking his tongue as he shook his head. His piercing eyes loomed over your disheveled form as he swiftly closed the gap between the three of you.

“Miss Y/n,” Eunwoo began, “I specifically told you to stay away from him but I see-” He said, his eyes falling on the two blossomed bruises that surround your puncture wounds. “- I see you weren’t able to do that, hm?”

“Oh please,” Minseok retorted, keeping his hands on your sore body as he kept his gaze on the resident. “Don’t act like you don’t want to taste her, too. I bet you’ve fantasized about being able to feed off her since you met her.” He snickered, brushing your hair away from the pretty marks his fangs left- feeling the need that began to radiate off Eunwoo as his hungry eyes refused to leave you. “Hmm, maybe- just maybe if you ask nicely, I’ll let you have one little taste.” 

    Turning his eyes from the resident back towards you, he gave your still flushed cheek a gentle peck, “How does that sound, darling?” He asked in a drawn out whisper, “Would you like Daddy to let him play with you too?”  

[charmspoint]

I know you said they don't have a concrete story yet, but would you be ok with telling us more about Zan and Ghost? They seem really interesting

Anon you don't know what you unleashed its like past 1am here but I could talk about them forever.

This is gonna be under the cut because nobody has to be subjected to this.

General quick point: Both of these started off as bnha oc's but then reached that point where I was like 'yeah, I want them in their own story' so rn their powers are just powers with no wider context since I aint got that story

I'm gonna start with Zan cuz he's older by creation and my fav oc atm. For him we have TW's of child abuse and neglect, familial death, trauma, drug abuse, depression and anxiety, though I'll be running through this points as quickly and non graphically as I can cuz...I'm not gonna make you read my thesis so it should be fine.

His full legal name is Kazuya Moriyama but he goes by Zan Mori, he's 24. Zan was created to be two things 1. Character design with a fully body tattoo 2. Someone to use a power I came up with but didn't match with a character yet.

Here's that power, yes I have a copy paste off it:

Nightmare fuel is a power that terrorizes everyone, including its user. Zan’s sweat contains a special kind of chemical that when smelled causes mild to severe hallucinations, paranoia and other fear responses by interacting with victims brain chemistry. However, this chemical is only contained in sweat that he produces as a result of fear so, for example if he goes running in the gym, nothing bad will happen. The strength of the power depends on how much Zan himself is afraid and how much sweat he is producing. A weak dose will only result in sense of unease, a feeling of being watched, escalating through general paranoia, with its worst manifestation being complete loss of touch with reality and intense hallucinations. It's odorless and since it’s a chemical can be stored for later use. The last stages of it are very hard to reach because they require for Zan to be at similar levels of severe distress. It affects him as well, often resulting in endless loop of him being afraid, activating his power because of his fear, the power causing more intense fear and so on.

So here is where we start to build.

Zan's backstory hinges on him developing this power very early on in his life, as a result of mutation that his parents were not ready for. Kids get scared of things, a lot, especially when their own power feeds back into that fear. His family quickly spiraled from it, going from trying to figure out how to help him to neglecting him to dying very bloodily in front of him as a result of the constant psychological distress. After that he was cycled through different foster and youth homes with pretty similar result before striking it on his own basically as soon as he could.

Zan's main motivation is to find a way to get rid of his power. He hates it, hates what it represents and how it essentially stripped away his ability to connect with anyone. He doesn't control it, he doesn't activate it, it simply happens to him whenever he gets distressed and as someone with deep seated anxiety caused by that very same power, he gets distressed a lot.

He self-medicates. He self medicates a lot. I don't really have the world planned out but it's very much a world where powers are a new thing and the society just doesn't have systems in place to catch people like Zan. So he basically keeps himself high as much as he can, to numb himself out so he doesn't feel anything so he doesn't get scared so his power doesn't get activated.

When I created Zan, I expected him to be a very jaded, angry, abrasive character and in some ways he is. He's very slow to trust and tends to keep away from people. His first instinct is to mock and insult, he dresses like an emo reject, he's absolutely covered in tattoos, he's a dark humored pessimist and just not the kind of person you want to be around for long. He's also probably one of the most empathic characters I have on the roster atm. He's like, a natural big brother. Any kids younger then him, fuck older than him but awkward and unsure, he's instantly adopting. Fuck everything else, his kids now, he'll make them lunch and make sure they get to school. Zan is more so abrasive out of need than out of actual malice or bad attitude. He does want to be close to people he just knows how that always ends so keeping away is a lot safer. He is genuinely very loving and soft when he lets himself be. He's not great about advice but he's a good listener and the type to throw everything on the backburner to come and help a friend out. He is inherently kind, he just doesn't allow himself to be so very often, unless someone damn well takes a chisel and digs it out of him.

Fun fact time:

He's got a knack for painting and idolizes Van Gogh

He's got a cat named Shikei who he picked up after it got run over by a car, it likes only him and wants to see the rest of humanity burn

Here are his established tattoos, yes I have a copy paste for that too:

Full body tattoo in shape of a jungle of thorns crawling over his entire body, save most of his face. The whole piece is done in eerie, cold colors, with a sudden splash of warmer color here and there, the thorns themselves being colored in misty and muted blues and greens. Over his heart, there is a tattoo of a birds nest, but the nest is breaking apart, suffocated by the thorns clustering around it and breaking into it, its branches drenched in blood, the baby birds in it barely even noticeable. Along the length of his spine and over the width of his hips an ornate cross of st. peter is painted, also crumbling, red spider lilies breaking through the frail rock. His shoulder blades are covered in sunflowers, strikingly bright on the cold surface of the thorns and painted in Van Gogh style. There is a chain of daisies lines across his neck and down to his chest, covering an old scar and a tiny ring of roses over his ring finger. On the nape of his neck, two butterflies are pinned by the thorns, appearing to still be alive and in agony as their bodies are pierced. A silver snake slithers through the thorns on his right arm, though its shade helps it blend in with the color of thorns, it’s body a tiny bit coiled, considering should it strike or not. On the back of his left hand there is a tiny leaf bug, trying to hide amidst the bare thorns and on the outer shell of his ear, mostly hidden from view by his head, is a ladybug, wings spread like it is about to fly away. A swarm of blue butterflies paint the silhouette of his lungs across his skin and two koi fishes circle each other endlessly on his hip. In thorns climbing up and down his neck, there are tiny fireflies, just barely bright enough to be seen. Two thin thorn branches separate themselves from the cluster on his neck and climb across his temples, their thorns appearing to be piercing through his skin and letting blood flow.

The tattoo is still in progress.

This was the brief summary.

Ghost! Ghost is a lot newer than Zan, I only made them at the start of this year so they are a lot less detailed but they hit the ground running. Their tw are mostly prostitution and existentialist feelings but I'm not getting into anything in detail.

Their full name is Ghostown Verb and yes they did name themselves that. They are 27 and their power is Forget me not, as I said previously, as soon as they are out of someone's line of sight, to that person it's like they never existed. The memories of meeting them return as soon as they are back in the field of vision but uhh you can see how it would be super easy to lose a child like that.

Ghost grew up on the street in a kind of do whatever you can when you can how you can attitude. Turns out it's really hard to get help from anyone when they can't remember you as soon as they stop looking at you, which includes but is not limited to social workers, well meaning passerby, police, foster homes and landlords. The name and face for the paperwork doesn't exist and people just find themselves grasping at nothing, feeling like they are forgetting something but not knowing what it is. It works in some ways, shoplifting is a lot easier when you're sure that you can just turn a corner and be safe, but it's mostly just a hassle. Ghost is homeless most of the time and when they were old enough for it their career of choice became prostitution simply because it's pretty much the only job where the customer doesn't need to remember you after they're no longer looking at you and it's not like Ghost has to answer to any boss who would have to either.

They had not had a kind life but they are the let and let live type. They don't stress a lot about things and generally take everything in a fly. They are very extroverted, very loud, very friendly. They form friendships fast because they know they'll lose them fast and same goes with love affairs. They live in the moment because for everyone else the moment is the only place where they exist. Loud fashion, loud words, loud actions, provocative and noticeable, they just want to be seen by people, remembered by people, they want the attention on them even though they know it's useless. Much like Zan they also have no control of their power so all they can do is live with it. At least it doesn't bring anyone any direct harm, they are grateful for that much.

But it does leave them displaced, unanchored. They don't have any support system, no family, no long term friends. The system can't even remember them for long enough to decide it isn't equipped to deal with them. They flitter through peoples lives, there one moment and gone the next. The biggest impact they can hope to have is the nagging feeling of having forgotten something.

It's not like they are exactly sad about it, their main mentality is just not to worry about things they can't change. These are the cards they've been dealt with and play those cards they shall. At the very least they are having fun with their life, doing whatever they want with no one remembering them long enough to stop them.

But it's a lonely existence with no viable human connection. That much does get to them.

Fun facts!

They have a tattoo of a forget-me-not on their shoulder, I haven't decided do they have it before the plot whatever it is starts, or do they get it cuz Zan's influence.

They like to make their own clothes when they can, though having a stable enough place to be for a long enough time is rare.

Their biggest fear is that when they die nobody will remember to look for their body :)

That was a brief rundown of these two! If you made it to the end damn congrats I love you

[dong-hyucks]

dating heejun. | knk

⇴  admin. jade ⇴  masterlists. ⇴  dating series masterlist.

highkey dedicated to @woojiniee and @longquos u guys are rude abt my bias wreckers >:( but ily anyway

so you met way back when he was still in kokoma band

you had been a helper, setting up the equipment for this performance since your friend -- who worked for the company -- brought you along

anyway

your friend told you who your were setting up for, and to be honest you had no idea who any of them were

no heejun?

quack dongyeon?

lee whochan?

who dongseong?

whomst??

they were a trainee band and didn’t have much information out there

but your friend showed you a video of them goofing around with their instruments/voices and?? they sounded p good??

you weren’t going to be around for the actual mini performance, as there were other guests coming

you were a bit bummed, but oh well

while you were setting up the main mic, someone came in looking very lost

“heejun,” your friend greeted politely, even bowing her head

you did the same, assuming this heejun was the same heejun in the band

he mumbled an absent hello, his eyes trailing all over the floor

“did you lose something?”

heejun looked up, smiling at you briefly before nodding

“yeah... have you seen my ring?”

a lightbulb went off above your head, a look of recognition flashing over your expression

heejun and your friend watched as you headed over to a little side table, retrieving his very ring from it

“i found it over there,” you pointed to the speakers, “you must’ve dropped it before.”

heejun thanked you gratefully, slipping the ring on his finger

he smiled at you before halting

his eyes went to your friend before going back on you, lingering a moment longer than you expected

“are you a new worker?”

you shook your head, “i’m just helping”

you didn’t miss the disappointed look he dawned before covering it with a neutral expression

you chuckled, “what was that?”

heejun shrugged, “nothing. just a little disappointing -- it’s not every day i meet a cute employee here”

you nearly choked

he grinned innocently, as though he hadn’t said that, and turned on his heel to leave

once he was safely out the door, your friend burst out into laughter

“[Y/N]! he was totally flirting with you!”

you just rolled your eyes, “sure.”

you didn’t see heejun again for a week or two

until you randomly got a text from some unknown number claiming they were heejun

you were quite skeptical at first until your friend confessed that she may or may not have given him your number

anywho

heejun didn’t text you like everyday

he was busy, as were you

but you texted every other day or once a week

you had this kind of relationship that was borderline friends / acquaintances

but then

heejunie: “hey, do you want to hang out today? i’m going to the bowling alley today”

at first you were going to say no

but, hey, you hadn’t gone bowling in a while so why not? plus heejun was a cool dude

so that’s how you found yourself, two hours later, laughing your heads off outside with heejun

to explain

when you first arrived at the bowling alley, heejun was already there

he was with a little kid, one with a tearful expression

at first you were like “??? heejun what did you dO ???” but then you realized he was trying to comfort the child

he’d lost his mom -- with the bowling alley being relatively dark and a big space

the sight of heejun wiping away the child’s tears with a gentle smile on his face, his voice soft as he told the child he’d find his mom for him

it did something to you

luckily, you had spotted a frantic looking woman on the way to finding heejun

lmao what a coincidence

you assumed that the woman was the kid’s mom

without even greeting heejun, you ventured off to find the woman, and when you did she confirmed your thoughts

sO after bringing the two together, you and heejun high-fived

“i comforted the lil’ guy and you found the mom, what a team”

“barely”

“shh, [Y/N], let me have this moment”

you just chuckled at how incredibly dorky he was

after getting your shoes and a lane, you and heejun just bowled normally

at first

then, it got a little competitive

it’s not what you think -- you weren’t competing to see who could get the most points

you were competing to see who could hit the pins in the coolest way

people in nearby lanes and those who walked passed gave you weird looks when you were laying down on the floor to push the ball

but you didn’t care, you were having fun

until

heejun decided to attempt a cartwheel

y i k e s

bad idea

especially when he had an 18lb bowling ball in his hands

needless to say, when he ‘landed’ his arm slipped

and the bowling ball basically flew from his fingers (luckily, not injuring him)

and there was a loud crash

this idiot somehow managed to throw his bowling ball at the ceiling

needless to say, his manager found out via text and wasn’t happy

heejun also used his company card for the repairs cough

you were kicked out very quickly

and now you’re just outside, leaning against the wall to catch yourself from falling

your stomach hurt from laughing so much, both at heejun’s misfortune and the expression he had made the moment the ball collided with the tiles

at first, he felt so bad but after hearing you laugh, he couldn’t help but follow

“that was hilarious,” you mumbled, wiping away fake tears, “but never do that again”

“noted”

while you recovered from laughing so hard, heejun took the time to just admire you

he thought you were very attractive, and the sound of your laugh was like wedding bells to his ears

“go out with me.”

“jeEZ HEEJUN YOU CAN’T JUST SAY THAT RANDOMLY--”

you thought he was joking but he had a sincere smile on his face and you suddenly felt really nervous

“you don’t have to be my s/o,” he cut in, mumbling ‘yet’ under his breath, “but if you want, go on a date with me.”

you were gaping like a fish

sure, heejun was a pretty nice guy, he was funny, he was smart (most of the time,,), and he made you smile without even trying but did you like him?

it took you a second, but the sound of your rapid heart answered for you

“okay”

not even a second after the word left your lips, he had your hand in his and he was pulling you down the street

“where are we going--”

“it’s a surprise!”

heejun was suddenly really giggly

like he had planned the whole thing

you were lowkey suspicious, but he was cute so you let it slide

okay so

he didn’t tell you a thing for like ten whole minutes

but he looked like the epitome of happiness

like he just won the lottery

“here we are!”

you looked around, a brow raised

he brought you to a big park in town, but he’d lead you far into it, where a lone tree stood tall

“what’re we doing here?” you asked, looking up at the pretty petals that hung on the branches

heejun coughed, backing up into the tree

“i come here sometimes,” he admitted, “it’s like me go to place whenever i need inspiration”

you looked over at him, “inspiration?”

he merely nodded, holding out his hand

“let’s go up.”

seconds later, heejun was pulling you up the tree

at first you were like “hey man what’re you doing” but then he pulled you up onto a sturdy branch

“look,” he mumbled, gesturing outward

you did, amazed at the sight

the branch gave you a perfect view of the city

“we can see everything here,” heejun said, “but no one can see us”

you were gobsmacked, “how did you even find this?”

he shrugged, “when i was a kid, i got separated from my dad, and i ended up here”

you blinked, keeping your gaze on him

when he looked back, you realized how handsome he was

even though his expression was neutral, you could see a hint of amusement shimmering in his eyes

wow, you thought, you’re handsome

he chuckled, his lips splitting into a grin

“thanks”

“shit did i say that outloud”

he rolled his eyes playfully, nudging you with his shoulder

“don’t worry. you aren’t too bad looking either”

“i know, you told me the first time we met”

he smiled again, looking at you almost longingly

“you’re cute”

“heejun, kindly let me breathe, please and thanks”

he didn’t respond, his gaze making you slightly —very— nervous

“i know i said you didn’t have to be my s/o, but…” he rubbed the back of his neck, “i really like you.”

you rolled your eyes, kissing his cheek (which made it turn pink) “i like you too, heejun.”

woo ur dating now dope relationship congratz

im sorry (no i’m not)

so let’s go dating oh heejun

let’s start of with something cute

kissing :))

your first kiss with heejun didn’t take long to happen

in fact, it happened the same day you started dating

after you hung out at the tree for a bit, he took you out for dinner

the restaurant wasn’t really fancy but it wasn’t a fast food joint either

heejun actually knew the owner, so you got to sit in the “special” seating

it was secluded from the rest of the restaurant, on the second floor

there were french doors leading out to a balcony, where a single table stood

the dinner was great, as was the service

after you ate, you and heejun looked out over the railing

you talked for a while, enjoying the slight breeze

you didn’t notice heejun getting closer and closer until his arm was literally brushing against yours

“i’ve never met someone like you,” he mumbled, “you’re different”

“is that a good thing?”

“it’s a great thing.”

you bore into one another’s eyes for a moment

slowly, you got closer and closer until he was a hair length away

“can i…?” his eyes darted down to your lips

when you nodded, he didn’t hesitate to move forward

the kiss was slow, his lips moving gently against yours

somehow, you ended up with your back against the railing, with your hands clasping around his waist at the small of his back

his hands cupped your cheeks, his thumb gently moving back and forth as he leaned into you

when air was necessary, you pulled away

“that was,” he chuckled, “wow for a first kiss.”

generally, kisses with heejun are either dorky or sweet

or both

half the time he’s grinning, so the kiss isn’t even a proper one, but neither of you care too much

—let’s also not talk about the cough night time cough kisses—

anyway moving on

let’s add a new thing

hugs

cuddling

you know, the fluffy shit

i’ve already made a cuddling with knk —and astro— post here but

let’s come back to this anyway

heejun hugs you so often

if you aren’t a hug person, he respect that, but sometimes he can’t help it

he’s a cuddly person

whenever you cuddle, he likes to hold your hand

it makes him feel connected to you

and his voice just lowers and becomes super soft and gentle

and he just looks at you like you’re the most amazing person in the entire world

and to him, you are

cuddling also comes with soft talks

he talks about his day, about his career, then asks you about yours

and while you’re talking he’s just heart eyes for you because he thinks he’s so lucky to be able to be with you

alright moving on

your first i love you also came soon after you started dating

he wanted to wait until you were completely comfortable but it kinda just

slipped out

he had to leave to practice and he was maybe late

really late

he was rushing out the door, falling over himself as he pulled his shoes on

“have fun,” you mumbled absentmindedly as you opened the fridge for food

“yeah,” he huffed, pulling his jacket over his shoulders, “thanks babe. i love you, see you later—“

you didn’t have time to react before the door shut

you kind of just stood there, the cold air from the fridge hitting your bare skin

“wHaT”

an hour later, heejun got a call from you during a little break

“hello? [Y/N]?

“i love you too, heejun. mind waiting next time so i could actually say it back?”

needless to say, heejun was a smiley mess for the rest of the day

alright

fights with heejun

rare, he tries his hardest to keep away from fights

other than the little ones, over who gets the remote, over who gets the last slice, etc

but when they do happen, heejun tries to bring it back

but sometimes, that doesn’t work

he’d give you some space, and you’d give him space

but he never lets you go to bed angry or upset

especially with him

he takes on the cuddling tone, low and gentle, as he talks out his feelings and you talk about yours

fights don’t last more than a few hours with heejun

so in all

dating heejun means you’re ina relationship with a dorky, funny, loveable guy

that also means, your life gets a little dorky

every day is a new adventure

when he debuted with KNK, you were introduced to four other dorks

and they all loved you (not nearly as much as heejun does)

basically

dating heejun is an amazing thing

he treasures you, makes you laugh and feel loved

:)

[caratdreams]

divine

aka “i just spilled eggnog all over my soulmate”

Member: Jeonghan

Word Count: 2.5k

It had become a bad habit of yours, over the past year, to check your wrist whenever you met a stranger. Cute guy behind the counter? Hot man in a business suit? Bumped into a random person on the street? You’d lower your sleeve and check for a tattoo, but your bare skin stared back at you every time.

It was, admittedly, pathetic, but you just wanted to find your soulmate.

“Don’t tell me you just checked your wrist after making eye contact with that old man.”

“Listen,” you raised a finger, an abashed smile growing on your face as you racked your brain to justify to your behaviour. “Nah, I have nothing.” The two of you fell into a fit of giggles, the absurdity of your behaviour a common source of amusement.

“You really shouldn’t stress about it! Everyone finds their soulmate eventually.” Eventually. As comforting as it was meant to be, the term worried you – what if your ‘eventually’ came when you were as old as the guy you just made eye contact with? Most people, like your friend sat across from you, found their soulmates and developed that tell-tale tattoo on their wrist between the ages of 18 and 21. You were at the tail-end of this age range, it felt like you were running out of time. “Anyway, you’re coming to my Christmas get-together, right?”

“I have nothing better to do, so sure.” You yelped in mock-pain when your friend playfully smacked your arm.

“I’m gonna need more enthusiasm when you show up, otherwise I’m not letting you in.”

Jeonghan was still searching for you.

As much as he loved you, having to look for you every lifetime was beginning to get tiring, and he had no idea how many you had left. He didn’t know what he did to be cursed with given a human soulmate. The worst part, the part that broke was heart every time, was the fact that you never remembered. He was assured that one day you would, but until then he would have to enjoy recreating memories with you.

If he could ever find you.

It had never been this hard before. Then again, in all other lives he still had his wings. He still chuckled to himself every now and then when he thought back to the last time you met. He remembered the patterned circle dress you wore, complete with a matching set of gloves. You were stood next to your friend, whose focus was on taking a picture of the snowflake-shaped lights that hung in the air.

You gasped when you saw him, tapping your friend’s arm with panicked, frantic movements. By this point, Jeonghan realised that you had noticed, for there was no other reason for you to react that way. Unless you were just astounded by his beauty, which was also understandable.

“T-That man has wings!” he heard you splutter. Your friend lowered her camera, looked in the direction in which you were pointing before turning to you with a tired expression.

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“Do you not see them?” He had begun to laugh, and this seemed to annoy you. No, it seemed to piss you off. You began to march towards him, and in that moment, Jeonghan knew he was in for a fascinating lifetime. He couldn’t say he had a favourite version of you, though, for underneath all the different appearances and quirks, your core was always the same.

It always happened around Christmas. He knew you were near. You had to be.

Comforting lights of red, green, blue, and gold greeted you once you made it to your friend’s house. Tinsel was everywhere, draped around the most mundane of household objects – not a single part of the house was free from her Christmas spirit.

Entering the room, you promised yourself you weren’t going to check your wrist every 5 seconds. You were quick to engage in conversation with your friends, knowing this was the last time you’d all see each other until the new year. The room was jovial as you shared stories of all the madness that had occurred over the past semester. God, were you ready for that break.

“Oh, I need you to try my eggnog!” Before you got the chance to tell your friend how much you hated the drink, though she should have already known, she had dragged you into the kitchen and shoved a glass into your hand. You took a sip to appease her, though your tongue probably hated you for it. Your eyes scanned the room as you forced yourself to swallow, they landed on Joshua, who was stood with a guy you’d never seen before. You were sure you’d remember him if you did, even if it were only once.

“Joshua!” You put a hand on his forearm as he walked by, stopping him in his tracks. “Who’s your friend? I’ve never seen him before.”

“Oh, that’s Jeonghan, one of my friends from way back.” Joshua smirked at the look on your face, he could tell you were interested. “I’ll introduce you if you don’t check your wrist straight afterwards.”

“Shut up, Josh! I was just asking!” You rolled your eyes, taking a sip of the eggnog (out of a pure need to do something, not because you wanted it). It wasn’t any better than it was 2 minutes ago. A tingling sensation sparked in your wrist as soon as Joshua had mentioned it, sort of like how they say your ear burns whenever someone talks about you. “I’m gonna go introduce myself.” You announced to your friend.

“Just make sure he doesn’t see you checking your wrist, okay?” she quipped, to which you flipped her off.

“Those jokes got old like, 3 months ago!” Jeonghan was now standing by himself, filling his small disposable plate with hors d’oeuvres as he waited for Joshua to come back. “Hey, I haven’t met you before.”

“I’m Jeonghan.” His smile was kind, that was the first thing you noticed. Almost angelic, even. His voice was soothing as he told you how Joshua had invited him to the party, and how he didn’t usually attend things when he didn’t know anyone. His demeanour was calm and oddly familiar. “I couldn’t say no to this, though.”

“It’s the free food, right?” Jeonghan snickered, nodding to verify your statement.

“It’s so good. Try some!” Jeonghan gestured his plate towards you, but you were interrupted before you could pick an appetiser. Someone, who you later found out was the ever-chaotic Soonyoung, had bumped into you, sending you and your drink forward. The plate of hors d’oeuvres between the two of you had fallen to the ground. The contents of your drink had now decorated Jeonghan’s shirt.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry!” Jeonghan looked down at his stained shirt, looked back up at you and laughed. This, in turn, had you laughing – but with a hand over your mouth, because you at least had the decency to not laugh at him out loud. Somewhere between all this, Soonyoung had muttered an apology to you that you never ended up hearing.

“it’s okay, it’s okay.” Jeonghan smirked at you. “Bet you’re glad to have gotten rid of the eggnog, huh?”

“What gave it away?”

“Oh, shit.” Your friend, who had been watching your interaction with keen interest, made her way over. “My brother probably has some shirts in his room. It’s the first to the left.”

“Thanks.” Jeonghan disappeared upstairs, leaving you to cringe at the events.

You genuinely felt bad for ruining Jeonghan’s shirt, and now he was forced to wear one of your friend’s little brother’s shirts. The boy was still going through his angsty teenage phase, you were sure, so Jeonghan’s options weren’t looking too great.  

It never occurred to you to knock on the door, you swung it open without hesitation.

Jeonghan’s back was facing you, but before you could blurt out another apology, your eyes zoned in to the scars on his back. There were two of them, crossing the length of one shoulder blade each. Your stomach dropped at the sight. It almost hurt to look at them, you imagined that the tiniest bit of pressure would have Jeonghan yelping in pain.

“Holy shit.” You were meant to think the words, not say them. Jeonghan jumped, holding the shirt to his chest once he turned around to face you. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you!” You cursed at yourself inwardly for even opening your mouth.

“Why’d you say ‘holy shit’?” he asked. The honest answer was on the tip of your tongue, but you weren’t sure how to word it in a way that didn’t seem insensitive. He would have known his scars were there, he didn’t need you bringing attention to them. Was he probing you, daring to see if you’d mention them? The last thing you wanted was to offend him.

“Sorry, I just … your scars.” You fiddled with your fingers, the interaction reminding you of a child being scolded by a parent. He had only asked you a question, but you felt like you had done something wrong.

“You can see them?” When he was a little braver, a little less jaded from trying to find you, he would often find himself shirtless, just to see if he got a reaction. He was never given one. There were no gasps, no whispering amongst friends, no asking if he was okay – never before had someone seen his scars. He was sure that, much like his wings, they were reserved for his soulmate’s eyes only.

“How can I not?”

“Only my soulmate can see them.” The words, once you had truly taken them in, prompted you to roll down your sleeve and check your wrist. After the past year of endless worry, you were relieved to find that there was, indeed, a tattoo. It was small, and you instantly identified it as a halo. Jeonghan looked down at his own wrist, the tattoo no longer faded. Instead, it looked brand new. “Thank God I found you again.”

“Again?” This wasn’t exactly how you thought you’d feel upon discovering your soulmate. The relief was to be expected, but you never imagined being so confused. It had been easy for everyone else – they found their soulmate and did all the nauseatingly cute things that soulmates did. This, you could tell, wasn’t going to be easy. You were missing something. Jeonghan’s face fell at your question, his eyes widening as if he’d done something wrong.

“I shouldn’t have said that, sorry.” Here came the heartbreak, as it did in every lifetime that you didn’t remember. “I’m supposed to wait and see if you remember.”

“Remember what?”

“We’ve done this many times before.” Jeonghan sighed. It never occurred to you until now that he was still shirtless. You wondered if he was cold. “You’ve heard of those people who get angels for soulmates, right? The angel follows them throughout all their lifetimes, hoping they remember all the lives they’ve shared together. What a sad existence, right?” Jeonghan chuckled, though the humour didn’t reach his eyes. It was a lifeless laugh.

Of course you’d heard of the myth, but that’s all it was to you. You didn’t think it was plausible that someone was given an angel for a soulmate, nor had you met anyone with such a fate.

“None of this makes any sense.” You blinked.

“It probably isn’t going to.” If there was anything that made you inclined to believe him, it was the weariness in his voice. “Since we’re soulmates, would you like my number, at least?”

You dreamt about Jeonghan that night.

He was driving aimlessly down the road. It was empty in a liberating sense, with everyone at home for Christmas Eve. It was just the two of you, comfortable in each other’s presence. The other cars you passed seemed to be controlled by people in their own personal battle against time, speeding down the road to get home before the clock struck midnight.

Your only source of light came from the street lamps, their orbs blending in to each other as you zoomed by. The wind caressed you, its touch icy in the December night. You admired Jeonghan’s wings, the tips of them fluttering ever so slightly in the breeze. They were the most beautiful thing you’d ever laid your eyes upon.

When the face of your watch showed midnight, you tucked a piece of hair behind Jeonghan’s ear and kissed his cheek, wishing him a Merry Christmas.

Jeonghan tapped his fingers on the café table, waiting for you to arrive. Your text came in the middle of the night, which didn’t surprise him, for you had never been a particularly great sleeper. When you eventually arrived, you made a beeline for him. You had a lot to get out, and you didn’t know where to start. So, you just let the words fall out.

“I had a dream. It was me and you, driving down the road on Christmas Eve, and I was feeding you sweets. It wasn’t much but,” you sighed. “It just, it felt so real.” Jeonghan remembered that night. You didn’t want to spend that much time around your family, you much preferred to be with him. That version of you had been the most rebellious of all, and he was the calming presence you needed. “That’s because it was real, wasn’t it? I snuck out the house, and I asked you to pick me up.” Jeonghan’s eyes widened immediately, his lips parting in shock.

“Do you really remember?”

“Your wings, Jeonghan. They were so beautiful.” Jeonghan looked down, swirling his spoon around in his coffee. When he looked up, tears glistened over your eyes. That was a sight he always hated. “You lost them because of me, didn’t you?” Those particular memories were still hazy, but they were there. The way you felt when it happened was the same feeling you got when you saw the scars on his back, the way your stomach dropped wasn’t because of how painful they looked – it was because you knew. Jeonghan waved his hand, shaking his head.

“I won’t let you keep blaming yourself in this life too.” He reached over and wiped an escaped tear with his thumb. “I’m just happy you remember.” You brought your hand up to his wrist, keeping his hand on your face. You looked into his eyes, the eyes you had stared in to for centuries now, and you were at peace. Jeonghan brought your face towards his, locking your lips together, and it was like fireworks went off within you. He had been waiting for this moment for so, so long, and you felt it in the way he kissed you.

“I’m sorry for ever forgetting.”

Neither of you were prepared to let the other go again.

[percywinchester27]

Challenge accepted

word count: 2000-ish

Pairing: Dean X Reader

Warning: Extremely fluff, if there’s such a thing.

A/N: This is for @luci-in-trenchcoats‘s Michelle’s AU & things challenge. My prompt: “Cuddling.” 

Also written for��@thing-you-do-with-that-thing‘s SPN Hiatus writing challenge. Prompt: "Person 1 is ticklish and person 2 uses that to get cuddles during the day." 

Unbeta’d, so all mistakes are mine. I really like this one, I hope that so do you <3

It started one night in a dusty motel room, over something so trivial, you didn't even remember it anymore. Just that Dean wanted something that was placed on the spindly wooden table and he was sitting across the room from it, on his bed. You had been on your way from the bathroom and he asked you to get it for him. It was probably his car keys, or his gun or something, but you weren't taking orders from him, so you turned around and made a face, sticking your tongue out, as you flung the towel from your wet hair at him. For once you caught the green eyed hunter off guard as it hit him square in the face, before sliding down and bundling up around his leather boots.

It seemed like a scene in a slow motion movie as the expression on face changed from shock to a very slowly spreading cocky smirk, which spelled trouble. In two long strides he was across the room, his hands enveloping your waist from behind and locking you in an iron clad grip. Even before you could react, you were being flung around the room in tight circles, his strong arms lifting up your entire torso, as the room spun wildly around you.

A giggle still bubbled, but you cut it short immediately when the his unabridged laughter sounded behind you. It was such a rare sound, that you stopped yours to listen to his delightful one. There was something pure about it, like the gushing of a river when it fell from the mountains. It filled your heart with happiness.

His gripped slipped a little, the fingers trailing ever so slightly against bare skin that was somehow peeking from beneath your shirt which had scrunched up sometime during the swinging fit. But that little moment of contact was enough to tip you over the edge as peals of laughter slipped past your lips, and you thrashed and turned in Dean's grip, your limbs flying off their own accord against his chest. Dean froze immediately, and you wondered if in your tickled frenzy you had kicked him where it hurt.

Apparently not. Not a full second passed before you found yourself airborne and then thrown into the bed. Dean's vague shape crashing down next to you in an instant, as his hands found the sides of your stomach again.

"You're ticklish," Dean grinned, between the merciless torture his fingers were now inflicting on you. You were too busy howling with violent laughter, but even then you could notice the glee in his voice.

"Geroff me! You jerk!" You screamed in between the howls, trying to punch and kick him away from you with all your might. Dean put up a good fight. But there was a secret that he didn't know- you weren't someone to be trifled with while you were being tickled. You became an unrivaled power. So much that Dean had to use his full strength to try and dominate the fight you put up.

Somehow you ended up pinned beneath Dean, both of his hands restraining yours at your sides, while his body pressed you deeper into the bed. His glorious face was inches away from yours, his hot breath fanning your face. He smelled of mint and whiskey, very intoxicating, almost heady. If you lifted your head even slightly, your lips would end up grazing his. Would it be so bad if they did?

You could see his emerald green eyes up close, and his pupils were dilating rapidly, the obsidian spreading over the stunning jade. It was breathtaking. Both your faces were still stretched into grins, but there was no sound now. Dean ran his tongue over his lip and closed his eyes for a moment, before pulling back. You missed the pleasantness of his weight immediately.

It suited well that Sam chose the exact moment to return with the food, blissfully oblivious to the tension in the room, as he prattled on about how easily the three of you had solved the case. Bless his soul.

When you awkwardly climbed out of the bed to get to the food, Dean's hand shot past quickly grazing your stomach as you walked passed. He winked at you when you turned to swat his fingers away from you. When he got up to follow you, you didn't miss the shy softness to his smile.

It became the highlight of your day after that. When you returned to the bunker, Dean didn't miss a single opportunity to catch you by surprise. He'd wait around the corner, hiding behind the pier that flaked the archway to the library, or behind the door to the kitchen and jumped you at the most unexpected times, holding you from behind, tickling till you were out of breath laughing.

It didn't take you long to get back to him. Dean was washing Baby on a lazy Sunday morning when you tip toed into the garage and hugged him from behind, scratching your nails lightly over his taut stomach. He didn't even budge. Instead he turned around, grinning from cheek to cheek as he turned the hose pipe towards you. Water gushed out torrentially and you were drenched to your skin within seconds.

The cool daft of the garage caught you just right and soon you were shivering lightly, your teeth chattering against each other. Dean immediately dropped the pipe and rushed to your side, hovering over you, uncertain of how to help. Both of you were hyper aware of the fact that your clothes had become completely see through in the deluge of water.

You could see Dean fighting against the inherent gentlemen in him, to shrug out of his shirt and offer it to you. But the hesitance over you taking it in a wrong sense seemed to win it out, as both of stood still, closer than what was considered polite, just staring into each other's eyes.

Fuck it! You thought, as you ducked beneath him, to pull the pipe of still running water and pointed it at him, giggling as he struggled against the force. Soon enough he was just as wet as you, shaking his head to get rid of the water, and making his way towards you. Your eyes widened as you realized you were in for it.

You quickly dropped the pipe and made a run for it, chuckling all the way till you were out of sight of the garage. You didn't wait to see Dean sag back against the Impala, as he dared to believe that you felt it for him too. You didn't see the hopelessly smitten expression, or feel the lurch of his heart as he pictured you grinning. You didn't know it yet, but you had just made his day.

That night, you couldn't shake off the image of Dean showering you with droplets from his wet hair as he shook them at you in the garage. Neither could you get rid of the images invading your mind, images of you pressed underneath him every time he had tried to tickle you.

His smell all but refused to leave you, as you tried to pay attention to the movie that was playing in the background. Sam had retired to bed early, leaving just the two of you. You looked over at Dean who was intently watching the film. Daring to move quickly, you scratched your nails over his stomach again, but to no effect. However Dean's arms were quick to find yours, pulling you to him, and once again he had the upper hand. To no one's surprise ten minutes later you again ended you pinned beneath him. But the atmosphere was different now. It was just the two of you. Sam wasn't going to interrupt tonight. The room was way too dimly lit, and the uncoiling desire deep within the pit if your stomach, was whispering you to inch a little closer, to brush your lips along the edge of his jaw.

You shook your head, breaking the spell. It didn't take you long to move away from his grasp and find your way back to your room. It was easier to hide underneath thick layers of your blanket than face reality. What if Dean didn't feel the same way. Every textbook sign was telling you otherwise, coaxing you to believe that Dean truly was into you, but your mind refused to believe.

Despite the blankets, a shiver ran down your body. You tightly shut your eyes, willing the sudden tears to go away. Why were you crying, why were you suddenly feeling so excruciatingly shy about flirting with Dean? How had you landed yourself in such an intangible mess?

The sudden dip it the bed alerted you to the fact that you were not alone. You held your breath and closed your eyes, pretending to be asleep. The last thing you wanted was for Dean find out that you had been crying.

Warm calloused hands pulled the covers back for a little while, and you felt Dean's solid weight press behind you. You dared not release the breath, afraid to move even an inch, afraid that he might know you're awake.

You felt his arms wrap around your stomach, as his all too familiar smell invaded your senses. Without realizing, you melted against his touch, and he pulled you closer, flush against the length of his body. Without wanting to, you'd given it away. He knew up were wide awake. You could feel his fingers slowly slipping beneath your T-shirt, finding your skin, and you braced yourself for what was obviously coming. Only, it didn't. Instead of trailing his fingers, he clutched you tight, digging them into your flesh like he was trying to say something.

You froze against him, paying more attention now. There was a slight pressure against your hair. Dean's lips were ghosting along the edge of your forehead, making his way towards your neck, stopping at your ear, kissing softly.

"I am tired, Y/N/N, tired of pretending it's only fun. Tired of pretending that it isn't an excuse to hear you laughing freely, and tired of finding reasons for being able to touch you."

"Dean-" You choked on your words, but he stopped you.

"Shhh… Just listen me out okay?" He whispered. "I think I'm in love with you." The slight panic and shock of his admission was so clear in his own voice that a giggle escaped your lips, and once you started it was hard to stop laughing, as cathartic peals left you. You folded into yourself inwards trying to control it. You could feel Dean starting to shake behind you with his own silent laughter. The moment was perfect as it was.

But you knew how to make it better. You turned around, burying your face in his chest, once you stopped laughing. "I love you too Dean, you would have to be really thick to not have understood it by now."

Dean chuckled, proving your suspicion right. But of course he had to be gentlemanly about it and put his feelings out there first, so you wouldn't feel insecure. He buried his face in your hair nuzzling it, and sighing in contentment, living in the moment and simply enjoying the bliss of it all.

"Hey Dean?" You mumbled quietly.

"Yeah?"

"Where does it tickle you?"

He laughed once quietly. "Ain't telling you that sweetheart!"

"Please?" You reached up and kissed him tenderly. But Dean rolled you over, holding on to you, kissing you like his life depended on it. 

“You’ll never find it you know,” he smiled against your lips.

“We’ll see about that,” you laughed, vowing to map all the uncharted territory of Dean’s skin tonight, as you melted into him once more. It was a challenge accepted!

 ***

Please tell me how this was? You can’t see me, but I’m on my knees ;) PLEASEEE? I could really use all the feedback!

Dean Darlings:

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[the-captains-ayebrows]

The Long Road Home - Canon Extension for 3x11 “Going Home”

My contribution to this year's CS Storybook! Check out the cover art by @elaine--captain--swan  who makes very beautiful things, and I highly recommend looking her up on Tumblr.

A series of missing and extended scenes that mostly take place during the Season 3 "Missing Year". It begins with Emma and Killian saying good-bye as Pan's curse rolls in. Lots of internal monologue.  Canon-compliant mentions of Emma and Walsh's relationship. This also contains a favorite headcanon of mine about where Blackbeard gets all those portal beans

Length ~4K words. Rated T for a few swear words. Also on [AO3]

There’s not a day that’ll go by I won’t think of you.

Good.

-- Killian --

One word. One word is all she gave him, but it’s enough. It’ll have to be enough. Because there’s no time now. There’s never enough time. Her friends and family surround her. Then she’s disappearing into that bizarre yellow carriage of hers, and then even that disappears from his view in a wash of purple smoke. But he meant it, what he said to her. He hopes she meant it, too.

-- Emma --

One word. One word is all she could offer. Because there wasn’t enough time. There’s never enough time. And everyone else is around her, hugging her, and when the hell did she become a hugger? Anyway, it’s not the time for heart-to-heart confessions. She and Henry have to run. She always runs. At least she has her son with her this time. At least she’s not alone. But, Hook… he meant it, what he said to her. Her inner lie detector was absolutely silent. She meant it, too, her one word. And she hopes he can hear in that word what she didn’t say.  

Don’t forget me. Don’t give up. You have to remember for the both of us.

But most of all, Bring me home again.

-- Killian --

Will mermaids ever cease to be the bane of his existence? Bloody hell. The Crocodile and Pan are finally dead - rather considerate of the Croc to have taken himself and his accursed father out in one blow - and he would’ve thought all the tribulations he encountered from his centuries in Neverland were behind him. But no. Bloody mermaids. Can’t a man pay off a harlot in peace?

Still, if the lass is telling the truth about Blackbeard and his beloved Jolly Roger, all the sins of her piscine race shall be forgiven, at least as far as he’s concerned. From where he sits, or rather crouches, behind assorted cargo crates with this Ariel person and Smee, it would appear her information is accurate.

By the gods, it's been so long since he’s seen her, the first love of his life. Before Milah, before… that lass whose name he refuses to speak aloud, though it certainly echoes through his thoughts constantly. Before any fair maid had tempted him, there was her. The Jewel of the Realm. The Jolly Roger. His constant companion. His confidant. His home.

Even as he thinks the words, he feels a tug behind his breastbone, a fisherman’s hook (the irony is not lost on him) buried deep in his chest that pulls him in a very different direction from the gangplank before him. He ignores it. He forces the emptiness in his breast into the shape of a gracefully curving hull and towering sails, instead of the softer lines, painted in shades of red and gold and green, that have haunted him of late.

“You know you’re talking about a boat, right?”

Bloody mermaids. “You have your love and I have mine.”

And he does love her, his Jolly. He needs her. Needs to feel like himself again. He feels like he’s losing himself. Losing everything. He lost his revenge, the one thing keeping him alive over the centuries. The Croc now dead by his own hand. He’d lost his ship to Pan’s curse. He’d lost…

But now here the Jolly sits, ready to welcome him back with open yardarms. What is he without her? Without his identity as Captain Hook? He’s a pirate. He’s always been a pirate, just as he told the Prince those months back. He needs to get back to that, back to himself, back home to his beloved ship. It’s all he has left.

And Blackbeard is daft if he thinks he can stand in the way.

-- Emma --

He spilled his coffee on her. Ran smack-dab into her on the street, his latte splattered all over her bright red wool coat. It’s the most cliched of meet-cutes - actually, it reminds her of some story she heard a while back. Maybe an old friend met their fiancee that way? Whatever. But still… since her place in Boston burned down, she really does need new furniture for her new home, and the insurance money was surprisingly generous. He seems nice enough. Mostly harmless, anyway. So, when he gives her his business card and an apparently sincere offer to pay for her dry cleaning, she accepts it.

Walsh Ozman, Antiques and Fine Furniture.

But, here’s the thing… The wood puns may be too much for her to handle.

“Wizard of Oak. Really? Was ‘Shiver Me Timbers’ already taken?”

His smile at seeing her in his shop flickers for a moment, and she senses she’s said something wrong, but she can’t imagine what. Perhaps he’s the one who can’t handle it? His grin is right back in place before she can figure it out. He does, in fact, pay for her dry cleaning, and she buys an end table.

He calls her a few days later to ask if she’s satisfied with her purchase. She is, of course. Something about the scrollwork beneath the table top reminds her of ocean waves, and she finds it strangely calming. She’s caught herself more than once tracing her fingers across it absently as she reads a book on her couch. He asks her to dinner, and she says she’ll think about it.

She does. Think about it, that is. Henry is, first and foremost, the love her life. She thanks whatever deity is listening every day that she decided not to give him up all those years ago. Can’t imagine what kind of a person she’d be without her son. She’d probably be a lot more guarded, more jaded, without seeing every day all the light and hope in his sweet, brown eyes.

Still, it’s been just the two of them for years. She didn’t have time for anything resembling a love life when Henry was little, to say nothing of the lingering wounds Neal had left on her heart. Henry’s not a little kid anymore, though, and she’s in a really solid place in her life. Good apartment. Good job. Maybe a nice guy is the logical next step?

She can admit that she’s been lonely. Every once in a blue moon, when the loneliness got too much for her to bear, she’d been known to send Henry off to sleep over with a friend, while she ‘slept over’ with a stranger. Not that she ever spent the night.

It feels like ages since she’s even had that level of adult contact, though. She literally can’t remember the last time that someone made her feel, well, anything really. Not even base lust, and certainly not anything resembling an actual emotion.

Even as she thinks the words, something pricks at the back of her mind. It’s not a memory exactly. Or really, it’s more like a memory of a memory? Is that even a thing? Like a Xerox of a photograph. Faded, corrupted, colorless, but still there. Pieces of a dream, maybe. Has to be. Who the hell would wear black leather in a jungle in real life? As if she’s ever even seen a jungle.

Emma Swan is far too pragmatic to let herself get bogged down in fantasy. So yeah, after getting the official go-ahead from Henry, she agrees to go to dinner with Walsh. And he’s kind, and he likes Henry, and there’s something familiar and appealing about his dark eyebrows and messy hair.

So, she tells herself to hope that this, this is what’s been missing. This is the thing that’s finally going to make her feel like she’s found a home.

And she’s not about to let some stupid dream stand in her way.

-- Blackbeard --

By Neptune’s left testicle, look what the tide’s washed in! That bloody ponce has some gall to show his face in here. He knows full well this is the regular gaming establishment patronized by Blackbeard’s crew. Wonder how he feels seeing the Captain himself in residence this evening?

Perhaps he thought his old nemesis had been swept up in this latest curse, but even a scurvy git like Hook should know better. He’s not the only sailor on these waters with the sense to steer clear of an onslaught of purple smoke. If he only knew how easily Blackbeard could extract himself from any… unfortunate situation.

He’d have used a bean when Hook made him walk the plank if that little mermaid hadn’t saved him the trouble. He’s always got a handful on him at any given time, and when he runs low, he simply uses one to transport himself to the uncharted island where he grows the blasted things. Oh, everyone believed that all the beans had been destroyed when Prince James (the original, not his insipid twin) and his little strumpet Jack defeated the Giants of the Beanstalk. Certainly, Blackbeard’s taken great pains (and inflicted great pains - ha!) to ensure that is the only story being told.

In truth, the Prince had managed to steal a small cache of the beans before the last giant set the fields ablaze, then paid Blackbeard a ludicrous sum of gold to hide them from King George. Probably planning a patricidal coup or some such thing. Blackbeard swears the Prince would’ve made an excellent pirate, not that it matters anymore. The Prince went and got himself killed, and there was no other living soul to know Blackbeard still had possession of the beans.

So, he’d made a little investment of them. He’d located a tiny island not found on any map, gathered up a crew of… shall we say, 'indentured workers' to plow and plant for him, and now he’s got a field full of lovely little stalks growing as many beans as he could possibly need. Even used one to pay off a former fairy for a bit of cloaking magic, to ensure his plantation is never discovered.

Honestly, you’d think someone would’ve noticed by now. How he can be in Arendelle in the morning and the farthest reaches of the Maritime Kingdom by tea time. Bloody idiots, the whole lot. Heads firmly up their own arses.

Ha! Oh, but this is too delicious. Hook absolutely reeks of desperation, and apparently, one such bean is the object of his desire. No. Check that. It’s a woman. Captain-bloody-Hook has been bested by a woman!

This is rich. Simply glorious! He swears by all the gods, this is the best day of his life. He shall not take a single coin of Hook’s gold. No, no. The son of a codfish tried to kill him. His utter humiliation is a far better price. Blackbeard wants Hook’s ship - the very ship they dueled over before - and he’ll accept nothing less. Far be it for him to tell Hook he’s got hundreds of the damn beans at his disposal.

Let the fool trade away his pride. His ship. His home. And all for some damned wench! Ha!

-- Henry --

He knows. She hasn’t said anything, but he knows. Henry’s a pretty smart kid, after all. And it’s been just the two of them - he and his mom against the world - for too long for him not to notice.

Walsh really seems like a good guy. He’s got terrible taste in music and his store has, like, the lamest name ever, but Henry can tell the guy actually likes his mom. Like… like , likes her.

It just... Doesn’t seem like enough? He can’t explain it. His mom still seems like something is holding her back. Like her brain and heart aren’t talking to each other. She loves Walsh - says she does anyway - but Henry is grown up enough now to know there’s a difference between love and Capital-L Love .

Henry knows his mom loves him , though. Capital L truly loves him. No question. That doesn’t mean she isn’t still lonely. For, you know, the other kind of love. He worries about her. He’s the kid and she’s the parent - she likes to remind him of that when he’s acting ‘too grown up’ - but he still does.  And she’s definitely, totally, lonely.

He just… he wishes they could find that missing piece, you know? So, he asks her to go with him to his usual thinking spot. That big fountain right beside the library. The books kind of help him focus, and the water… well, that’s what fountains are for. Wishing.

He feels - he’s always felt - like there’s something about this place. Something special. Magical.  That’s stupid, he guesses, but he can’t think of a better word for it. So, he tosses his coin and makes a wish.

He knows his mom thinks he’s upset about something from school, and he should tell her he’s worried about her. He should. But there’s something holding him back, too. Something he can’t quite remember. He doesn’t know how to tell her what he thinks is missing because he really doesn’t know. There’s just this empty space, you know?

So, he tosses a coin and he wishes - more than he’s ever wished for anything - for their little family to be complete. He isn’t even sure what he means by that. He just feels like they’re waiting for something. That something is out there waiting for them. An adventure, a future, a home.

-- Emma --

What. The hell. Just happened. Emma blinks once, twice, and again, licking her lips before she can think better of it. She can’t really think of anything. Her brain feels like a cat in a YouTube video frantically scrambling on a freshly waxed floor, but never actually getting anywhere.

“Mom? Who was that?”

“No idea. Someone must’ve left the door open downstairs.”

Because no. She had no idea who he was. Just some crazy person. He had to be, but she…

Sh- she…

She froze . Emma Swan absolutely vapor locked. It was weird enough that she opened the door without looking out the peephole first - especially since the way he’d pounded on the door already had her on high alert, but even so. A strange guy dressed like a freaking pirate is standing in her hallway sighing her name as if she’s an oasis in the desert and she just, what? Stands there with her mouth hanging open, squinting at him, listening to his voice, trying to place him.

Why would she do that? Why not just slam her door in the face of the weirdo in his elaborate costume? Nope. She asked him if she knew him. As if she’d forget that face. Or that outfit.

What the hell is wrong with her? Why did he seem so familiar?

And, and, and -

God, he telegraphed that kiss. Like, every nerve ending in her body could sense it coming from the way he was looking at her alone, not to mention the awkward full body twitch before he leaned in. Even if she wasn’t a pro at reading body language, the guy practically had a neon sign over his head that said, ‘I’m about to reach for you.’

And she stood there. And let him. She didn’t step back. She didn’t grab his wrist and twist it behind him and shove his pretty face into the wall and shout for Henry to bring her handcuffs.

She stood there and closed her eyes and… time stopped. She was in a jungle, the one from her dream. Everything smelled leafy and sweaty and a mosquito was biting the back of her neck, but she didn’t give a single fuck because his lips were touching hers, and it felt like - it felt like…

Funny thing about time stopping. When it starts back up again, it zooms ahead even faster to catch up to where it should have been. It also makes a noise that sounds very much like your own voice screaming in your ear, “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?”

The kick to his balls was a (literal) knee-jerk reaction. But even then - even then - she still stood there talking to him. A random stranger kisses her on the mouth and she gives him the chance to explain himself. Like he’d tell her the truth.

He was telling her the truth.

Just because he believes it, that doesn’t make it true.

Oh, sure, she threatened to call the cops and finally managed to remember that her door does, in fact, close. But god, the whole interaction…

There shouldn’t have been a whole interaction. Who even is she today?

Maybe she’s overly tired. She’s been working a lot of late nights recently. Maybe tonight she’ll take a sleeping pill so she’ll get a good night’s rest. No...unwanted dreams. Unwanted in the sense that she doesn’t want confirmation of exactly where she’s seen his face before.

Maybe her blood sugar is out of whack and she just needs some pancakes and hot cocoa.

“Come on. Let’s eat.”

-- Henry --

What. Was. That. Let’s eat? That’s all she’s gonna say? Henry’s twelve, he’s not deaf and blind. Fine. If that’s how she wants to be, Henry can play it cool, too.   And he’ll do it better than her, without all the out-of-breath huffing. He can keep a secret after all. He hasn’t told her that Walsh is about to propose, even though it’s been a week since he asked for Henry’s blessing. So, fine. He won’t talk to her about this either.

But like… really? He knows what he heard. There was some guy at the door - he definitely heard a guy’s voice - and that guy was talking about  Cs mom having a family and that her family was in trouble and, well… Henry’s also about 99% sure his mom punched the guy or something. But then she kept talking to him? What even is that?

It was kind of like she knew the guy, but she didn’t at the same time, if that makes any sense. She never opens the door for people she doesn’t know or isn’t expecting. She says it's because of all the skips she’s put in jail. Never know when one might try to come after her. Or him. She’s really protective of him. She wouldn’t even let Walsh come over until they’d been dating for months .

Really, his mom is being super weird, even now that the guy is gone. She never acts like this. Her face is flushed, she keeps licking her lips and it’s not because of the pancake syrup. She hasn’t even touched her food which is also very un-momlike behavior. She loves food. About the only time Henry ever sees her this way is when she’s really close to solving a big case, like right on the edge of figuring it out.

Maybe that’s all this is. Maybe that guy is part of some big case she’s trying to crack.

Or… maybe she’s just being weird because she’s got a date with Walsh at some fancy restaurant tonight and she’s figured out what he’s going to do. That’s probably it. He really wants his mom to be happy, and if marrying Walsh will do that, then he’s cool with it. But, he’s not sure. It could be Walsh is the missing piece for their family like Henry had wished, but it doesn’t seem to fit somehow. He’s not sure why.

Speaking of that wish, Henry can’t stop thinking about what the strange guy yelled right before his mom slammed the door. “You have to remember, ” he’d said. Like it was the most important thing ever.

Family. They have to remember. It’s all so… Henry’s not sure, but it sends a shiver down his spine. It was seriously just a couple of days ago that he’d made that wish. That their family would be complete. Because it felt like there was something out there that he couldn’t quite remember. It’s spooky and way too much of a coincidence to let slide.

So, maybe magic isn’t so stupid after all? Maybe some strange guy showing up is somehow connected to his wish? And his mom just slammed the door in the guy’s face!

-- Killian --

That went… about as poorly as he should have expected. Nothing is ever easy with that lass. Crumpled on the floor outside her door, Killian isn’t sure which hurts more, his manhood or his heart. She did a rather stunning job of crushing both.

He’s a bloody idiot. He should have known, should have realized that she didn’t… that she wasn’t…

Gods above and below, he actually attempted to give her True Love’s Kiss. They’d only ever shared one kiss of any kind. One soul-shattering, life-altering kiss, to be sure but…

A one-time thing. Don’t follow me.

It was just a kiss. How is that your darkest secret?

He should have known, but he had hoped. He’d hoped in a way that he didn’t think he would ever be capable of doing again. She’s given him that, and even as he sloshes through a mire of self-loathing disappointment, he’s grateful to her.

I never thought I’d be capable of letting go of my first love, of my Milah… that is, until I met you.

She is his new dream, his beacon guiding him out of the storm into a fair harbor. It matters not that she doesn’t return his feelings. He came here to save her, not to make love to her. He will find a way. He will bring her back to the people who love her. All the people who love her. He shall bring her home and she’ll save the day once more, not because she’s ‘The Savior’, but because she’s Emma-bloody-Swan and he’s yet to see her fail.

He must not give up. He must encourage her to remember who she is, her true self, not whomever Regina’s blasted false memories have conjured her into thinking she is. Emma is a smart woman, practical, but with a keen intuition. He’ll need hard evidence to get her to listen to him. Once she does, he hopes (there’s that word again) that her innate ability for detecting lies will convince her he’s speaking the truth.

But what evidence can he possibly offer? He racks his brain as he drags his sorry carcass off the floor and stumbles down the hallway. Gods, but this is a strange land. All these people living in what amounts to nothing more than little crates all stacked on top of each other into towering monstrosities. He’s seen tenement buildings in his travels, of course, but nothing like…

Wait. He’s seen exactly this kind of tenement before. It was here, in this very land. Baelfire’s - that is to say, Neal’s - place. He found it once. Perhaps he can locate it again? He’s grasping at straws, he knows, but this may very well be his only chance. The only place he can find something to make Emma believe again.

And when she believes, when she remembers… No. He tries once more to snuff out the tiny spark inside him that should have been fully doused when her knee connected with his groin, and yet it persists.

When I win your heart, Emma, and I will win it, it will not be because of any trickery. It will be because you want me.

There’s not a day that’ll go by I won’t think of you.

Good.

Perhaps she did want him. Perhaps she does… No. No, no, no. No. At the very least, he cannot waste time thinking on it now.

For now, he must focus on the task of getting her to believe. To remember. Once she does, he will bring her home.

Whatever happens after that, well… That’s up to her. As for him, he’s made his decision. Even before he made the deal with Blackbeard. Home is where the heart is, after all, and his heart is with Emma Swan.