#on the bright side its made it much easier to ignore people who are very critical of updates to their already perfect game

[coratorium]

when i was 12 i was cursed by a warlock to only get really into games with a lot of potential that they continually struggle to live up to, trapping me eternally in a vicious cycle of hope and disappointment

[ghoulangerlee]

are you watching me with eyes of a predator ; swiss/ifrit

commissioned by @wrathofrats, this one got to be so out of control from what I originally planned but I do have to say I'm very happy with how it turned out haha.

7k of sloppy sex featuring newly summoned Swiss and Ifrit who's in charge of his surface acclimation.

content: wing/feather kink, Just The Tip, cunnilingus, Wet&Messy, multiple orgasms, vague play at Innocence kink, Ifrit-bimbofication, Swiss has a cunt in this one though he's not explicitly mentioned to be trans (cunt and clit and folds are used for his anatomy).

read it here on ao3!

fic under the read more:

The summoning chambers are always cold, mostly dark—the ceilings high and grand in a way that makes it feel less like a basement and more like a chapel. 

At least, that’s what Ifrit thinks as he stands off to the side, watching Cardinal Copia putter around the chamber, the circle is pristine and stark in the center of the room and each candle corresponding with the elemental symbol sits in its place—it's all too perfect really, so much different from the other summonings he’s been a part of.  

He’s only here to be part of the welcoming crew, as his place in the band had been dissolved, much to his own relief. There was an ache in him after Terzo’s death, something about going back on stage with a new face didn’t sit right with him, made him feel jumpy and nervous—he's not sure why, but he knew that once Cardinal Copia became part of it all, he’d need to step back. 

So, he did.  

But he’s been helping with a few behind the scenes things for now, practicing with Dew, who’s taken his spot in the band, working with Rain, the new water ghoul that Cardinal Copia had summoned—and while it wasn’t the exciting life that Terzo had promised him when he was first summoned, it was definitely different.  

The Cardinal is speaking, reciting Latin from a book he’s holding, chanting through stanzas of words as the circle on the floor starts to come to life—around them, the others are waiting with bated breath to see if the offering, if the request is enough to entice another ghoul forward.  

It can be tricky sometimes to find the ghouls who want to come to the surface, and while it's supposed to be voluntary, he knows that sometimes it’s not, and in the past, it had been such a big thing within the church.  

He likes to think that Cardinal Copia is on the right side of history these days, but it’s always hard to tell—he'd been summoned and promised so many things, only for his summoner to be murdered and his station in church be questioned by the very people who’d carried out the murder.  

There’s a hush in the room and Ifrit’s drawn back to the present in enough time to see a ghoul claw its way out of the portal—stark black skin and shining mismatched eyes, the ghoul has feathers but smells strongly of fire, of burning wood and ozone.  

Ifrit is almost immediately enamored.  

- 

His name is Swiss, at least, that’s what he settles on after the others gather round and toss out name suggestions—they all have names, but some of them are harder for humans to vocalize, most of them unable to properly speak Infernal in a way that’s understandable.  

It’s just easier to choose a new name, rather than be referred to as ghoul all the time (though this doesn’t discount the ghouls who do want to be called ghoul; it’s their prerogative, but Ifrit doesn’t like the way the word sits on a human tongue, sounding more like an insult than a name.). 

When Swiss grins at being called Swiss, Ifrit has to look away from that sharp yet bright smile, the sparkle in his eyes—one is a soft lavender color and the other a warm brown, because suddenly he wants to be the reason that Swiss is smiling.  

Cardinal Copia calls him forth and Ifrit goes, while the others are still fawning over Swiss, he ignores it in favor of focusing on the human, standing with his hands clasped behind his back in front of him.  

“I know you’re probably tired of this,” Cardinal Copia says with a wry sort of laugh, “But do you have the bandwidth to acclimate one more ghoul?”  

Ifrit grins, looks back at where Swiss is standing in a half-formed circle with the others, then back at the Cardinal, he shrugs, tries not to show his excitement at the prospect of it all, “I could move a few things around.”  

The worry lines on the Cardinals face seem to melt away and he smiles, reaches out and gently pats his gloved hand against Ifrit’s sleeve covered arm, “Thank you, I’ll make sure to requisition pay for this,” he says as a promise—and yeah, the money is good, but the idea of having a newly summoned hybrid ghoul almost outweighs it.  

Well. He’s getting a bit ahead of himself.  

“No worries, Cardinal. I know the song catalogue too; do you know what you’re going to have him do yet? We can work on that once we finish with the acclimation.” 

Cardinal Copia looks thoughtful, “I’ll need to think it over first, but I’ll let you know. If you could get him familiar with it all though, that’d be wonderful.” 

“No problem,” Ifrit says with a casual indifference that he’s somewhat proud of, “If there’s anything else just let me know. I’m going to go ahead and,” he breaks off, waving his hand in the direction of the other ghouls—they've got Swiss wrapped up in a cloak now, hood pulled over his head, but despite that, Ifrit can still see the glow of his eyes. “We’re going to head up to the den now if that’s alright with you.”  

(Expecting a newly summoned ghoul to glamour so soon can backfire sometimes, can be messy and horrifying if they’re not used to the surface, if their magic isn’t attuned to everything, if they’re without a proper pack—not that Swiss had been summoned packless, he’d been, by default, initiated the moment he accepted the offerings, but still, it was better safe than sorry.) 

The Cardinal pats Ifrit’s arm one more time before stepping back, “Yes, of course, thank you again. I’ll be in touch about the rest of it all. And you should expect payment within the next week. I trust that you’ll take care of him.”  

Ifrit smiles sickly sweet, “Of course, Cardinal, only the best care for the band ghouls.”  

-- 

Swiss is different, Ifrit learns as the two of them spend a lot of time together—almost immediately after the pack whisk him away out of the basement and up to the den, the tense line of his shoulders goes loose and the drops the hood down from over his head.  

He grins at Ifrit, cocking his head to the side—his tightly coiled curls bouncing with the movement of his head, “Didn’t realize there could be two fire ghouls in the band.”  

There’s something melodic and mesmerizing about his voice and Ifrit blinks a few times to clear the sudden fog in his mind, “There’s not,” he answers, “I’m not in the band, I just help with the administrative stuff.”  

Swiss cocks an eyebrow at him, “So I’m administrative stuff then?” he asks, shifting the cloak around his shoulders enough that the front of it opens just enough for Ifrit to get an eyeful of dark, bare skin; the flash of lavender further down.  

He clears his throat, “Acclimation falls under administrative,” he says, knowing how stupid he sounds as he says it, but unable to stop his mouth from continuing the thought, “I’m pretty good at it. Acclimating new ghouls to the surface.”  

“Oh?” Swiss asks, his eyes shining in amusement, tugging the front of the cloak together again, “Well, then I’m glad that I’m in your capable hands,” he purrs, stepping further into Ifrit’s space, “I’m sure you’ll teach me all about life on the surface.”  

He does, or he tries to, but Swiss is so distracting—on purpose it feels like.  

It takes Swiss several days to fully form his glamour, so he spends a good portion of the time before mostly nude; not uncommon because Rain had been completely nude for the first few weeks of him time here, but Ifrit hadn’t wanted to drag Rain to his bed in the same way that he wants Swiss there.  

And Swiss seems to know it too, if the way he preens whenever he catches Ifrit watching him, the way he seems to purposely run his fingers through the no doubt soft feathers that Ifrit can see peeking just above the waistband of the slacks he’s wearing.  

Unfortunately, Ifrit knows just how far those feathers go down as pants were a new thing for Swiss within the last day, now choosing to mostly walk around shirtless within the den—he’s less feathered below the belt, he’d explained, and every shirt he’d tried on thus far just felt constricting to his feathers.  

Again, everything was fine.  

He was sure that this was a very normal thing that air ghouls went through, he was summoned after Zephyr, so he hadn’t had a chance to see if this was just how they were on the surface or not, too focused on his own acclimation.  

He was sure that his own mind made things worse because of how attractive he found Swiss, because the others seemed less enamored by him, though no doubt just as friendly, like pack were. 

Like Ifrit should have been. 

Instead, he was here trying his best not to scare off Swiss—sex was a natural thing, as natural to them as breathing most of the time, their nature as ghouls meant they had less reservations about things than humans did so it should have been no problem, just bring it up to Swiss and then it’d be done.  

They could fuck about it and move on with the acclimation.  

But maybe, just maybe Ifrit had been around humans for too long and now he’s here, reconsidering everything; thinking about going to the Cardinal and letting him know that he’ll need to get someone else to help with the acclimation because he couldn’t do it with a clear head.  

Not when his baser instincts were nearly screaming at him to take Swiss to bed, to make him his.  

Maybe, if he could just ignore the voice inside his head, telling him that every little thing Swiss was doing was Swiss opening up to him, accepting him as some sort of sexual partner even though he hadn’t asked—well, if he could ignore it, then he wouldn’t feel so awful about the focus he was putting on trying to make sure Swiss understood what life on the surface was like instead of putting his focus on pack bonding.  

(If he focused too hard on Swiss and pack then his mind tended to get possessive. The urge to take Swiss and hide him away, the need to be the one to make Swiss smile, laugh, happy.) 

Swiss however, was no idiot.  

“You smell like you want to fuck,” Swiss says bluntly, head tilted as he corners Ifrit—he's taller, by only a few inches, taller, but not as broad as Ifrit, except when he’s got Ifrit backed up against the wall of the den, Ifrit feels small.  

Ifrit makes a noise, presses his hands flat against the wall, “Oh, it’s...almost time for. You know how ghoul biology works,” he says, though it's a flimsy excuse, about six months too early to really mean anything—the pulse of heat under his skin has nothing to do with anything other than the way Swiss is looking down at him.  

“Mmhm,” Swiss says, somewhat like he barely believes him and well, fair, even Ifrit barely believes the things he’s said. “I’m beginning to think you don’t like me all that much, firebird,” he plants a hand beside Ifrit’s head and leans down into his space, “But your scent tells me that you do like me and it’s very confusing.”  

That’s all fine and dandy because Ifrit is also confused.  

“I’m supposed to help you acclimate,” Ifrit says carefully, not wanting to reveal too much about himself or the entire situation, “Cardinal Copia asked me to do it because the others are preparing for the tour coming up, easier to delegate to the guy who’s not going on tour.”  

Swiss tilts his head, his mismatched eyes look bigger up close, shiny and wide as he stares into Ifrit’s eyes before leaning back, “I’ve been on the surface before,” he says slowly, “I...am almost certain I mentioned that before. I know how this whole thing works, just not the glamour bit cause I didn’t need one of those where I was last summoned.”  

Swiss may have mentioned it once, maybe twice, if Ifrit thinks about it too hard and pushes past the weird feelings he has around that, not that Swiss being summoned previously is a problem—it's actually the opposite of it, it’s something so grand that Ifrit almost wants to propose they fuck about this whole misunderstanding.  

(Is it really a misunderstanding if only Ifrit misunderstood?)  

“You’ve been really weird this whole time, you smell like you want me but then you shy away from touching me,” Swiss stares hard at Ifrit’s face, almost enough to make Ifrit squirm, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have some sort of weird thing about wanting to fuck me but not wanting to fuck me because I’m new.”  

It’s a little judgmental, his words, and Ifrit can’t help the stir of shame, the flood of arousal, he swallows heavily, works his jaw a few times trying to find the right words, “Well,” he says, “I just don’t want to come on too strong or anything.”  

Swiss laughs then, it’s a loud and boisterous sound and it fills Ifrit with warmth, “Too strong?” he asks, and then he reaches up, shuffles his fingers through his own hair, lower down towards the back of his neck, works something free—a feather, it’s soft purple on the ends, the color fading into a warm chocolate brown towards the base.  

Ifrit watches somewhat dumbly as Swiss brings the feather closer, drawing the tip of it against his cheek, down his jaw, ticking his throat, “I think when you figure out your little shame thing, you should come find me,” he whispers.  

He flushes, pale pink against his gray skin, eyes fluttering a little as Swiss drags the tip of the feather across his collarbones, “Maybe we can work something out,” he continues, speaking in a near whisper now as he finally straightens, pulls the feather away from Ifrit’s skin.  

“But you’ve got to be the one to make the first move, baby,” Swiss murmurs smoothly, reaching down to take Ifrit’s hand, rubbing his thumb against the center of his palm before he presses the feather into Ifrit’s hand, a clear sign of his intentions.  

“Too strong?” he asks as he takes a few steps back, a satisfied grin on his lips as he watches Ifrit for a moment. “You know where to find me, baby.”  

Before Ifrit’s able to form a proper sentence, Swiss is gone, melting into the shadows like some kind of apparition, leaving behind a feather and the lingering scent of burning wood and ozone.  

- 

It takes him decidedly less time to get over himself as Swiss had put it in not so many words, the feather held delicately between his fingers as he paced the length of the den, sure that if he were to walk any harder or any faster, he’d wear a hole in the stone.  

“Oh, he finally told you, huh?” Dew asks, coming into the den, carrying a basket of laundry, “We were wondering if you were ever going to catch on that he was trying to get your attention.” 

Ifrit stops walking, turns to look at Dew, who’s stopped by the door, watching him, “You knew?” he asked, “Why didn’t you say something?” 

Dew snorts softly and hefts the basket of laundry up higher on his hip, “What? And miss a chance to watch you fumble around? You were the one who decided to think too loud with your dick and ignore what Swiss was saying to you.”  

“I’ll admit that I’ve been handling him too carefully,” Ifrit says, only mildly insulted by Dew’s insinuation, “But, the last thing anyone needs is being accosted by the person helping them acclimate when they’re first summoned.”  

Unimpressed, Dew finally moves further into the room and places the laundry basket down on the couch, “Yeah, he made it very clear that first week that he wasn’t new to the surface, and one could argue that he made it clearer by accepting your advances, however unconscious those were,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Seriously though, and I mean this in the nicest way I can muster, you smell absolutely disgusting to me right now, will you please go take care of that so things can go vaguely back to normal.”  

It’s not a question and there’s an undercurrent of annoyance in Dew’s tone that Ifrit’s not too keen on pushing, “Yeah, sure, I was just thinking,” he holds the feather up, twirling it between his fingers, “I’ll get out of your hair, take care of everything and you’ve got nothing to worry about, big guy.”  

Dew levels him with another unimpressed stare, “Just go,” he says, “Satan help me, you’re the one acting like you’ve never bedded a new summon before.”   

A fair point that Ifrit doesn’t try to argue on, choosing instead to leave the communal den and to leave Dew to his chores, heart pounding as he heads down the hallway towards the separate dens each ghoul has—the whole time Dew’s words bounce around in his head.  

Accepting your advances.  

“Was I really that obtuse?” he asks himself out loud as he hurries further down the hallway until he comes to a stop in front of Swiss’s room.  

The door’s ajar, just slightly, and there’s low humming coming from inside.  

Ifrit pauses there with his hand raised to knock, biting his lower lip. He could knock, could push the door open and announce his presence—he could, but he stops for a moment, steps back and takes a deep breath.  

“You can come inside, you know,” Swiss’s voice calls out, amused, “I won’t bite unless you ask first.”  

He pushes the door open just enough to slip inside and closes it quietly behind him—Swiss's room smells strongly of the multi-ghoul and little else; the scent of smoldering wood permeates the area, filling Ifrit’s senses, calling to him; there’s an undercurrent of something fresh, the smell of open air on a sunny day.  

Swiss himself is lounging on the bed, blankets haphazard like he’d been sleeping; he’s wearing sweats and a cropped t-shirt, only glamoured enough that his wings aren’t visible, and Ifrit feels ravenous all of a sudden.  

“My eyes are up here, firebird,” Swiss says, amused, a grin stretching across his lips when Ifrit’s eyes meet his instead of where they’d been glued to his feathery happy trail.  

Ifrit’s mouth feels dry and there’s heat coursing through his veins, “I don’t have feathers,” he says, somewhat dumbly.  

Swiss pushes himself into a sitting position and reaches a hand out towards Ifrit, “You don’t,” he agrees easily, beckoning him forward with a finger, “Come here and I’ll show you mine.”  

A choked noise leaves Ifrit but he shuffles forward, letting himself come to a stop as his knees hit the foot of Swiss’s bed—not that he stays there for long, because Swiss is sitting up further, reaching out and fisting a hand in his shirt, dragging him up onto the bed with little to no preamble.  

“Dew said you had a thing for newly summoned ghouls and that once they’re acclimated, you like to invite them to bed with you,” Swiss murmurs in the space between them—this close, Ifrit can make out the specks of white and gold in Swiss’s brown eye, like constellations. “Probably threw you off that I’ve already been up here, huh?”  

“A little bit,” Ifrit agrees, his voice low as he plants a hand on the bed beside Swiss’s hip—he's so close to him, half leaning over him, “Doesn’t mean I’m any less interested though, if you’ll have me.”  

Swiss grins up at him, “I let you in here, didn’t I?” he asks, rhetorical, “I hope my experience isn’t off putting,” he murmurs then, tilting his head a little bit, lower lip brushing the curve of Ifrit’s in the barest hint of a kiss, “I can pretend to not know what your intentions are, let you show me what it’s like if that’s a deal breaker.”  

Ifrit snorts in amusement at Swiss’s words, though the idea is enticing in a way, he shakes his head and brushes their lips together, finally, properly. “We can compare notes,” he mumbles, “Can I see your feathers now?” he asks, ignoring the way his voice goes a bit airy towards the end, like he’s whining.  

A hum and Swiss’s hand comes up to the back of Ifrit’s neck, finally drawing him into something more than just a brush of lips—he's a little rough with it, a little bit overeager in the same way that Ifrit feels; sharp teeth catch on his lower lip for a moment before Ifrit’s opening his mouth, Swiss’s scent spiking up sharply as their tongues brush. 

The hand on the back of his neck squeezes and it draws a sharp moan from Ifrit, Swiss easily swallowing the noise as the kiss continues, as it deepens further—and it’s different, bedding a freshly summoned ghoul who knows what they’re doing, still smelling of brimstone and ozone, still so in tune with their own instincts without the interference of humanity.  

The kiss breaks and Ifrit’s immediately assaulted with the feeling of Swiss’s mouth on his jaw, down his throat, teeth sharp and dangerous against the delicate skin—the rush of it all makes Ifrit lightheaded. Swiss could easily incapacitate him if he wanted to, and Ifrit wouldn’t even try to stop him.  

“What are you thinking about?” Swiss mumbles, dragging the sharp point of his canine over where Ifrit’s pulse is beating heavily.  

Ifrit swallows thickly, eyes fluttering closed as he tilts his head back, bares his throat more, revels in the low, approving purr that comes from Swiss, “Thinking about you biting me,” he answers easily, breath hitching when Swiss fits his teeth against his throat, just pressing them there. “Shit, yeah, just like that.” he says, feeling nearly faint.  

There’s a rumble of a laugh and Swiss’s teeth press inward; the shock of pain draws a moan from Ifrit—he feels shaky and loose, grabs at Swiss’s shoulder with one hand to keep himself centered, “That’s it, pretty bird,” he slurs, shivers when Swiss pulls away and drags the flat of his tongue over the indentions left by his teeth. “Fuck.”  

“Who knew all I needed to do was get you in my bed for you to actually be normal around me,” Swiss mumbles, amused, and then he’s nudging Ifrit back onto his knees properly, so Ifrit’s kneeling in front of him on the bed. “It was cute watching you try to be careful though, all while smelling like you wanted to jump me.”  

Ifrit groans, brings both hands up to cover his face, “Can we not talk about that, I’m here, aren’t I?” he asks, his voice going whiny again, and Swiss takes pity on him, prying his hands away from his face to kiss him again.  

Somehow, at some point, they end up horizontal on the bed, side by side for now, sharing kisses, open mouthed and messy—Ifrit’s fingers find the shock of lavender feathers above the waistband of Swiss’s sweats, and he whimpers into the kiss as he drags his knuckles over them, the soft and downy feeling making him feel as if he’s going to burst.  

There’s a laugh, the sound pouring into his mouth right before Swiss pulls away from the kiss, pressing a closed mouth kiss against his lower lip, “You want to see more?” he asks softly, biting at his jaw again, “Wanna feel more?”  

Ifrit whimpers again and lets Swiss shove a leg between his thigh, giving him something to grind the hard line of his cock against, “Please,” he mumbles, begs as his other hand claws at the waistband of Swiss’s pants, “Let me see.”  

“You’re so hot when you’re like this,” Swiss says reverently, shifting forward to press Ifrit back into the bed, hovering over him, “Begging to get in my pants,” he coos, head tilted as he smiles down at Ifrit, “Never had some beg like this, for me,” he adds and then he’s pulling the cropped shirt off, tossing it aside, allowing Ifrit a moment to feel along the hard planes of his chest, his stomach, fingers immediately going back to his happy trail. 

He laughs then, “Oh baby, I think you’ve got a thing for my feathers,” he says, sitting back properly so he can shove his sweatpants down—there's nothing under them and Ifrit’s mouth waters as more skin, more feathers are revealed; they’re a little darker the further down they go, a bit curled and damp with Swiss’s arousal.  

Ifrit makes a punched-out sort of noise, hands grasping at Swiss’s hips in desperation—he wants to taste him, wants to get his mouth on Swiss’s cunt, bury himself there until he can’t breathe. 

“Can’t say I’ve ever made anyone speechless,” Swiss jokes, shifting around atop Ifrit until he’s able to properly kick off his sweatpants, laughing again when he’s suddenly being pulled forward until his thighs are spread wide over the width of Ifrit’s chest. “See something you like?” he asks, humming a little when Ifrit digs his fingers into the meat of his lower back, a clear sign of restraint.  

“These your feathers?” Ifrit asks, the words sticking heavily to his tongue as he lets go of Swiss’s hips and presses his thumbs into the patch of feathers framing his cunt, “You lure all the ghouls you sleep with into bed by flashing them?” 

Swiss shudders above him and Ifrit can feel the way his muscles move just under his skin, how they jump at the touch, the feathers ruffling, “Nope,” he says, his voice surprisingly steady, “You’re the first I’ve met that’s wanted them out.”  

Something about that makes something inside Ifrit preen, a first—and yeah, okay, he may like being the first at things sometimes, but even the knowledge that Swiss has slept with others in the past does nothing to quell his thoughts.  

Ifrit takes a moment to peer up at Swiss, his thumbs still carefully massaging into the feathers—Swiss is watching him with heavy eyes, the black of his pupil thin slits among the color of his irises before they expand and Swiss blinks down at him slowly, rolls his hips forward, trying to encourage more.  

Ifrit licks his lips and watches as Swiss’s eyes drop to his mouth, digging his knees into the bed for leverage as he rocks forward again, and Ifrit lets his thumbs inch closer to his core, where he can see the barest hint of dark pink nestled among the feathers.  

He lets out a sound, something incredulous, pressing a thumb inward and feeling as if Swiss himself had taken the air from his lungs, wanting nothing more than to fit his mouth over that pink nub, drink from him until Swiss is shaking and begging for it.  

When Swiss shifts his hips backwards, Ifrit curls his thumb into the soft, silky skin of his cunt, spreading his lips just enough to make his own want surge—he's so pink, he’s so pretty and Satan, he must say that out loud because Swiss makes a noise, jerks forward until Ifrit’s thumb slides right up into his clit, warm and wet and pulsing.  

There’s a flush on Swiss’s cheeks, a constellation of dusky pink and gold, coloring down his throat, towards his chest, his mouth is open, he’s panting, grinding his hips forward in a tight circle, all but manipulating his clit against the pad of Ifrit’s thumb.  

The color of his eyes swallowed up by the black of his pupils.  

“Up here,” Ifrit manages to get out, grips at one of Swiss’s thighs while pressing his thumb harder against Swiss, “Up, sit on my face,” he gets out, letting loose a tortured noise when Swiss scrambles further up, thighs bracketing right around Ifrit’s head as he settles down there.  

Swiss’s scent is thicker here, Ifrit’s nose pressed into the tuft of feathers right above his cunt—he takes a moment to breathe him in, grips both of Swiss’s thighs and pulls him down, and sure he’s eaten others out before, knows he’s got skills, an oral thing he’d been told by past partners, but he’s never had someone on his face with feathers.  

It’s not much different to the coarse hair, the scales or the other ghoulish traits he’s had previous experience with, but it makes him feel heady in a way that he can’t describe, the gentle tickle of feathers against his cheeks as he nudges Swiss’s lips apart, licking into him eagerly. 

Swiss’s hands immediately come to rest in his hair, one gripping the short strands tightly while the other cradles the side of his head; he’s moaning, a low and happy sort of thing as he grinds down onto Ifrit’s tongue, thighs spasming.  

Ifrit makes a noise, shifts his head so his nose nudges against Swiss’s clit, licks deeper into him wondering if this will be the first time Swiss has gotten off since being summoned this time; it’s always easy and quick the first time, getting someone to the edge, that is. The rearranging of their genetic makeup to exist on the surface doing something to them.  

It’s why he’s always keen to get a new summon in bed, to bring them to the edge over and over, a pleasant welcome to the surface.  

He wiggles a hand in between their bodies for a moment, uses his thumb to hold Swiss open as he works his jaw, presses his tongue in as far as he can get it—in times like these, he wishes he were the type of fire ghoul who could lengthen his tongue, he’s not though, but he manages; using his grip on Swiss’s thigh to hold the ghoul down against him.  

Swiss makes a noise in outrage, trying to break Ifrit’s hold on him, wanting to move, but Ifrit just holds him still, keeps him there as he takes his fill, and then he’s shifting his touch from holding Swiss open to drawing slow circles around his clit, his tongue doing something inside Swiss that has his thighs shaking around Ifrit’s head.  

And Swiss comes, of course he does, he can’t help it—can't help the way he tightens his grip on Ifrit’s hair and tries to drag his face closer, closer, closer (even though he’s as close as he can be without being inside Swiss), Ifrit’s name falls from his lips as he pulses through his orgasm, gasping almost painfully as Ifrit keeps licking and licking and licking at him until he’s shaking, coming again so suddenly that he makes a wounded noise and tries to shove Ifrit’s head away.  

Ifrit’s grip on his thigh loosens and Swiss shifts back and away from Ifrit, still shaking the slightest as he settles back onto the bed to catch his breath.  

Ifrit is, of course, grinning this satisfied sort of thing, the lower part of his face a mess of slick; his eyes are glowing as he looks at Swiss—and he’s hard in his pants, a fact that doesn’t go unnoticed by Swiss.  

“Insatiable,” Is the first thing he’s able to say once he’s caught his breath, splay-legged and lying beside Ifrit, “Absolutely disgusting.”  

Ifrit laughs at that and rolls onto his side, bullying his way close to Swiss, throwing an arm over his waist and nuzzling into his jaw, rubbing the scent of Swiss’s slick and Ifrit’s own pheromones into Swiss’s feathers, matting them down and making the two of them reek of each other. “Didn’t hear you complaining,” he murmurs, mouths at Swiss’s jaw for a moment before pulling back to look at him properly.  

Swiss turns his head, peering up at Ifrit with his mismatched eyes; watching him for a long moment before he smiles, something small and secretive, “Sounds like you’re fishing for a compliment,” he says, and then he’s reaching up, cupping the back of Ifrit’s neck with one of his hands—big and warm against his already overheated skin, dragging him down into a kiss that tastes like the two of them.  

Ifrit’s the one who separates them first, panting softly against Swiss’s mouth as he does it, “Not fishing,” he mumbles, presses another kiss to Swiss’s lips, “But I wouldn’t say no to a compliment if you have one.”  

“Of course,” Swiss says with a laugh, scratching his nails through the short hairs at the base of Ifrit’s neck, “You do have quite the mouth on you,” he adds after a moment, leaning in and biting at Ifrit’s lower lip, leaving behind the barest hint of teeth marks.  

A moan, low and pleased, both from the bite and the compliment, it’s praise to him, knowing he was able to satisfy Swiss with just his mouth does things to his brain, makes him feel a little floaty and happy, makes him want to do more and draw more praise from Swiss’s lips.  

Content to lie there while Swiss comes down, he nearly forgets about his own need until he feels Swiss’s hand tug at the buttons on his pants, “If you’re the type to not need reciprocation, let me know now,” Swiss is mumbling, “But I really want to touch you, been thinking about getting my hand around this from the beginning.”  

“Beginning?” Ifrit asks, shifting back so he can help Swiss get his pants undone and pushed down, “Shit, no, no, please, you can do whatever you want to my baby, I’m real easy.”  

Swiss hums softly, pleased and happy as he gets Ifrit almost fully nude, “Shirt goes too,” he says, shifting to push Ifrit onto his back again, hands pushing the material up until Ifrit’s able to get it off, “And yes, the beginning. Do you think I just show my feathers to anyone?” he asks, incredulously before he’s climbing into Ifrit’s lap, settling across his thighs. “You really are out of practice with how air ghouls show they’re interested, huh?”  

Ifrit feels a bit dumb as Swiss settles his weight down on him, he can feel the heat coming from Swiss’s cunt again, hovering so precariously close where he’s hard and curled up against his belly, “Oh,” he says, and then he laughs about it, because he can’t believe he’d been blind to it, the first flash of lavender, the suggestive tilt of his mouth, “Now I feel a bit silly,” he manages to say as his hands go to cradle Swiss’s hips.  

There’s a sly sort of grin on Swiss’s mouth, the corners curling upwards, the points of his teeth pressing into his lower lip as he presses his knees into the bed for leverage, moving from his perch on Ifrit’s thighs, “You are kind of dumb,” Swiss says as he settles his weight on Ifrit’s lower belly, cunt right over his cock, “But in that really endearing way. Chivalrous and concerned about my wellbeing all while denying yourself something you really wanted.”  

Ifrit gasps at the sudden weight on his belly, at Swiss’s heat right where he’s hard and sensitive, “Oh Satan,” he says, digging his fingertips into Swiss’s hips, “Yeah, fuck, baby, I’ll be as dumb as you want me to be if you keep doing what you’re about to do.”  

Swiss laughs at him, leaning down to kiss him quiet as he rocks his hips, slow and steady, reaching down between them long enough to spread himself, choking back his own moan when Ifrit’s cock slips right between his folds, hot and hard and right against his clit with each thrust forward.  

At some point, Ifrit pulls away from the kiss, tossing his head back as he holds Swiss down against him, digging his heels into the bed and letting himself get lost in the slick heat he’s grinding against—he almost misses it, when Swiss shifts a little bit more, bends over him properly and right against his ear, murmurs, “Wanna put it in me?”  

Ifrit moans, loud and unbidden, hips stuttering a bit as he tries not to come, he’s nodding trying to tug Swiss onto his cock, feels it slip down just a bit, nudging against where Swiss is wet and open and warm, and he makes a sort of pained noise when Swiss lifts up so suddenly and they’re not touching anymore.  

“Just the tip,” Swiss says, firm, there’s a teasing grin on his face as he says it, hovering over Ifrit, “Do you think you can do that? Only the tip baby, don’t think I can take the whole thing yet,” he lowers his voice, pitches it in a way that ties knots in Ifrit’s stomach. “S’my first time, after all.”  

He nods, several times, mouth open in shock—it's not Swiss’s first time, something that he’d made very clear from the beginning, but hell the implications of it, the way Swiss plays into it has Ifrit all frazzled, “Baby,” he says, managing to find his words after a moment, “I’ll take such good care of you. Let you control what you take, how much.”  

Swiss makes a happy little trill in the back of his throat, settles back down over Ifrit’s cock, rocks his hips in slow circles for a few moments, “You’ll have to teach me how to take all of you,” he murmurs, still in that faux innocent tone, and this time, when he lifts up, it’s so he can reach down between them, “’m so wet, I can take you without any prep,” he continues, wrapping a hand around Ifrit’s cock with one hand and Ifrit has to watch, eyes trained on the feathers, on the part of his cunt, the dusky pink of his hole as he shifts back on his heels, guiding Ifrit’s cock into him.  

Ifrit’s sure he passes out, his grip on Swiss’s hips so tight he’s pretty sure there’ll be bruises there, indents of his fingertips left behind, he’s only coherent enough to not let his claws pop, though he’s sure Swiss would have no problem with that—Swiss's cunt is so tight, so warm, squeezing around him like he’s trying to milk him, like he wants more.  

“Oh,” Swiss says, high and breathless, stills and just lets Ifrit stay inside, “You feel so good,” he praises, “So big, s’not that much in me but I can feel you stretching me, gonna take a lot of practice to get you all the way in here.”  

Ifrit finds himself purring, something he doesn’t do often, but the rumble starts low in his chest as he slowly but surely loosens his grip on Swiss’s hips, instead, running his palms up Swiss’s sides, “We’ve got time, baby,” he says, hoping his voice is steady, “Can take as long as we need. Can do it as many times as you want. Could spend hours stretching you out for me.”  

Swiss smiles down at him, shifts his hips a little bit after another few minutes, clenching around the tip before he grinds backwards, fucking himself on just a couple inches of Ifrit’s cock, moaning low and happily in his throat as he does, “You feel so good,” he finds himself repeating as Ifrit drags him down into a kiss.  

They kiss for a while, open mouthed and panting as Swiss works himself on Ifrit, almost as if he were trying to chase his own orgasm and not worry about Ifrit’s--and well, that thought does a lot more to him that he realizes, hazy and hot and cunt drunk as he is.  

It’s why when he feels himself nearing the edge, he’s barely able to get out a warning, the slide of Swiss’s cunt against his cock and then the way he sinks the tip into him every few thrusts—he doesn’t know the proper thing to do here, if he should make an effort to not come inside Swiss or if he should—how far does showing ones feathers go when it comes to sex?  

He’s thinking, probably way too much about this, so when Swiss sinks down onto the tip of his cock one more time, he’s surprised when Swiss just stays there, his own answering purrs much lower than Ifrit’s rumbling deep in his chest, he grinds a little, another inch slips into him and Swiss clenches around him so suddenly it draws his orgasm out of him with very little warning.  

Ifrit grasps at Swiss, only at the last second not pulling him down any further, so instead he curls his upper body upwards, pressing his face into Swiss’s heaving chest, shaking under him as he empties inside Swiss—all the while Swiss is milking him again, clenching rhythmically around him until Ifrit’s making soft little uh, uh, uh noises against Swiss’s skin, shivering at how it starts to tip over into the too much territory.  

When he slips out of Swiss, spent and softening, Ifrit barely thinks as he grabs at Swiss’s thighs and hauls him upwards, mouth open, tongue out, hoping to catch the leak of his own come out of Swiss’s cunt before any of it gets on the sheets under them.  

Swiss has a hand in his hair again and this time, Ifrit lets Swiss fuck down onto his face, riding his tongue, letting Ifrit lick his own come out of him until he’s arching, his own hand coming down to rub at his clit only a few times before he’s spasming around Ifrit’s tongue, coming in such an explosive manner than Ifrit’s sure he’s going to be tasting him for days now.  

Which, good.  

Good.  

Swiss slips off of him this time, curling on his side and pressing his face into the side of Ifrit’s neck, panting heavily as he does so—Ifrit wraps an arm around Swiss and holds him close, holding him through the aftershocks and murmuring softly into his temple.  

When Swiss is only mildly coherent, he lifts his head enough to share a kiss, moans at the taste of himself and Ifrit on the fire ghoul’s tongue, before he pulls away and hides away in Ifrit’s neck again—and while Ifrit wants to ask him if it was good again, the tease on the tip of his tongue, he holds back.  

He waits, patiently.  

“Disgusting,” Swiss mumbles into Ifrit’s neck this time, slurring just a little, “Absolutely filthy, disgusting ghoul. You should be ashamed of yourself.”  

Ifrit laughs at his words, can hear the undercurrent of humor, the hint of awe—it's a compliment and he takes it as one, rolling them until he can properly cuddle Swiss, letting his warmth seep into Swiss’s skin as the cold chill of the room starts to settle over them now that they’re basking.  

“That tongue thing you do should be illegal,” Swiss mumbles with a shake of his head. “I’m fucking inconsolable, right now.”  

Ifrit glances down at the top of Swiss’s head, quirks an eyebrow, “You okay?” he asks, a little hesitant, but mostly amused.  

When Swiss lifts his head, he looks exasperated, a little hazy eyed, sated, “You fuck, I want to go again,” he says, “I’m so fucking sloppy right now but I just want more.”  

That draws another laugh out of Ifrit, surprised and pleased that he’s good and makes Swiss feel insatiable, “Well, if you’re done being in charge, maybe let me take care of you this time?” he asks, rolling Swiss onto his back, looming over him with a glint in his eyes, “Let me make you feel good.”  

Swiss covers his eyes with his forearm, lets Ifrit bully his way between his legs properly until he’s got one of them up over Ifrit’s shoulder his cunt spread and exposed—but he’s grinning, biting his lower lip, “Fuck, yeah, yeah, okay, do your worst. Make me feel good, firebird.”  

Ifrit makes good on his word, keeps Swiss in bed for the rest of the day, pulling orgasm after orgasm out of him until they’re both too tired to continue.  

[animasola86]

4: A Special Need

This is a rather unusual story about a girl (reader) who comes across a special little friend that she likes very, very much. But does she love it more than she loves her boyfriend (Sebastian)?

Summary: Imagine: you have a weird little "hobby" that you don't want anyone to know about, but then things take a turn for the worse! In other words: Sebastian finds out about his girlfriend's little secret! Will he be jealous or will he accept it?

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!reader Genre: Smut // Words: 6.2k // [READ ON AO3]

WARNINGS: NSFW! Explicit sexual content! "Object" insertion! Tentacles/Teratophilia*! Angst! Vaginal sex! Kink shaming? (Additional tags on AO3!) (Side note: if you find the idea of using a squid as a sex toy weird/uncomfortable, please think of it as a dildo/vibrator/butt plug, maybe that'll make it easier to read!) Read at your own risk!

← CHAPTER 3 - // - CHAPTER 5 →

4

Once you accepted the fact that you carried around a tiny squid in your insides that would occasionally hum and throb and poke around in there, you didn't feel as weird about it any more (because you were too busy being aroused by it).

At first it was indeed strange, especially since the small creature seemed to test your boundaries by prodding your walls and keeping you stimulated throughout the whole day – which made basic interactions with other human beings very awkward when you suddenly flinched or winced or let a surprised moan fall from your lips, but the more it teased you, the better you became at ignoring it, or rather it seemed to learn that it couldn't be doing this all the bloody time. Maybe it also slept sometimes, you had no idea.

What you did know, was that it needed constant warmth and wetness, because when you tried putting the squid into a water bowl to keep it safe, it splashed about and crawled out of the bowl immediately, humming angrily as you picked it up off the floor. You started talking to it then, telling it you couldn't have it inside your pussy all day long, but it only hummed more angrily, its tentacles clawing at your fingers, its whole body shaking in what you thought was indignation.

Because the moment you lowered your hand and brought it close to your centre, it calmed down, almost purring now, and so you sighed, went back to the bathroom and let it crawl inside you once more. The more you did that, the less disturbing it became as you watched the creature disappear inside you, but it never stopped being arousing, and that made sitting in classes (or sitting in general) very difficult.

That first day after you found it – or it found you – might have been one of the strangest days of your life, and you'd clearly had your fair share of strange days. Despite being buried deep within your tightness, the little squid reacted differently to different surroundings, different people you talked to, different smells, noises, etc., by either forcefully crawling deeper, pinching your walls as it did so (which hurt) or by rubbing its tentacles against those spots that made your legs weak (which was also bad when you tried to use those legs but at least it felt better).

You knew then that it preferred the damp dungeons to the thin air of any of the towers, the quiet of the library to the bustling of the Great Hall, and weirdly enough the cold echoes of the Undercroft to the warm and bright atmosphere of your personal Room of Requirement, where you used to spent most of your time.

And looking at the data you collected, you realized that tiny squid was a lot like your boyfriend. Though whenever you spent time with Sebastian, the thing inside you was still on the fence if it liked him or not, especially since he couldn't keep his fingers to himself and tried on more than one occasion to invade your nowadays already occupied most personal space.

You managed to keep him away from your folds as best as you could without raising suspicion, mostly by distracting him in returning the favour, but you knew you'd have to find a solution to your little problem if you ever wanted to sleep with him again, which you wanted, every damn minute of the day, especially since you were so highly stimulated all the freaking time.

And as you couldn't (and wouldn't) leave your little friend somewhere it didn't like to be, your only solution was to stuff it somewhere similarly wet and warm and tight, but the first time you even tried to coax it there by pushing two fingers into your bum to ease its passage, it forcefully crawled back into your other hole, raging inside you for the next few minutes, causing you to almost lose your footing as you tried to make it back to your dorm room without your legs giving way under the constant stimulation.

Gasping for air, you could barely close the curtains of your bed before you were on your back, panting heavily as you wrestled your clothes off your body until you were able to press both hands between your legs and ride out the sensations caused by your angry little pet. When you came with a loud moan, it stilled inside you, and you realized then that it was feeding off your juices, calmed by the contractions of your body, and while you were still breathing hard and shivering from your intense orgasm, you pushed a finger between your folds and beckoned it to come out.

Its tentacles wrapped around your finger, and you gently pulled it the rest of the way before you brought the tiny squid – that didn't look as tiny any more now that you thought about it – closer to your face. It was glistening and warm, its scent mixing with yours, and when you pressed your lips to its wide head, it hummed against you. You still didn't exactly know where its eyes were, but you looked at it and it seemed to look back, and suddenly it jumped off your hand and crawled between your sticky thighs again.

You sighed, but then you felt it prodding against the tight ring of muscles curiously, and you inhaled deeply as you spread your legs wider and lifted your hips slightly, then used your own juices as lubricant as you pushed your middle finger into your tight arse, eliciting a quiet moan from your throat. The squid kept poking at your hand, and when you retrieved your finger, it pressed into you instead, its wide head struggling to fit, but its tentacles pushed it further until it was swallowed by your eager body, the rest of its long form sliding in with ease.

You thrashed your head back and groaned at the sensation. Between waves of pleasure and growing doubts about what the hell are you even doing, you slowly came to terms that this was your new normality. A normality you wanted to have, because it would have been easy to bring the squid back to the Lake, but you didn't want to part from it, not when it could give you all these kinds of sensations you had never experienced before. And apparently it liked to be with you too, because why would it crawl into your bum otherwise?

The blush became a constant feature on your cheeks as you traversed the castle with your little friend in either of your holes, switching it up whenever you needed to, and as you became accustomed to shoving it into your body at will, it too became accustomed to your rhythm and always did what you wanted from it.

That was until you were lying on the couch in the Undercroft with Sebastian one late night, kissing and cuddling, arms and legs entangled (because despite having your own little special sex toy friend, you still love being with him, your male human friend, for countless reasons).

As you roll on top of your boyfriend, the squid inside your bum starts stirring, and you gasp into his mouth unexpectedly, wincing slightly as you feel the creature crawling deeper as if to get away from whatever is happening outside its warm, wet den.

The sensation has your muscles clenching as you try to pull it back, really not wanting it to slip into your bowels, and your concentrated face makes Sebastian frown deeply. “Are you alright?” he asks quietly, his hands cupping your flushed face.

You nod distractedly, almost unable to breathe at this point. You've currently realized that every time you have an orgasm with the squid inside you, it would feed off it and grow, being a lot bigger now than it was when you first saw it crawling out of your pussy. Hence whenever it moves inside you now with its thicker tentacles clawing at your muscles, you'd feel it a lot more.

Inhaling deeply, you try to ignore the movement inside you, not sure what to do about it anyway, so you focus back on the freckled face in front of you and smile warmly before you lean in to kiss him, but he stops you, his eyebrows raised. “Are you sure you're alright?” he repeats, and you frown at the question. “You've been slightly off the last weeks. What's wrong?”

There it is, the question you've been dreading to receive. Of course he would notice the change in you, and carrying around a little sea creature in your insides that would occasionally bring you mind-blowing orgasms surely was a change you couldn't easily hide for too long, at least not from him. He is too perceptive for his own good. Yet despite being very open with him about basically anything, you just couldn't bring yourself to admit to the fact that there is something else that brings you great joy now.

Because Sebastian Sallow is still the most jealous boy you've ever met. And usually that isn't a problem because you barely give him reasons to be jealous, if at all, but having this tiny creature giving him a run for his money, so to speak, would make even the most not-jealous person furious, you just know it. And even if you obviously haven't replaced him for the squid living inside you, it might look to him like you have.

He is always sad when he has to say goodnight to you in front of your common room, knowing he would never be able to join you in your bed (and always tells you it's not the same to sleep on the lumpy couch in the Undercroft together), and if he finds out that this small creature can and has for about a whole month occupied the space he so desperately wants to be in, how can he not be absolutely devastated about it? (Also you don't want him to think you're weird for getting aroused by having a phallic-like creature crawling into your holes...)

So you kept it to yourself.

You hate lying to him, but it's for the better. “Nothing,” you answer his question with a smile, quickly leaning in to claim his mouth for another kiss to keep him busy. “It's just all the stress... the exams... the assignments... the fear of the future,” you add with a laugh, accentuating every word with a lingering kiss. “Don't worry about me, I bet all seventh-years feel like this these days.”

He hums against you in response, a deep sound that vibrates through your body, reminding you of the thing pulsing inside your bum. Clearing your throat, you put your hands on Sebastian's face and gently caress his cheeks.

“If you distract me tonight, everything will be better, I'm sure,” you whisper and wink at him, and with another deep hum leaving his throat, he grabs your shoulders and rolls you around until your back is pressed into the lumpy cushions of the couch, and he's hovering over you, his eyes dark and intense, and you shiver deeply upon seeing the hunger within them.

You're both out of your clothes in no time, and all you can think about is being close to him, become one with him, feel his skin on yours, share the sweat and slick, the moans and groans, hear his deep voice issue all these sounds that drive you crazy with lust while his hands grip you tight enough to leave marks, and you need those marks, as a reminder that he is the most important person in your life, and vice versa. And no strange magical sea creature will ever come between you – or so you hope.

Because suddenly your thoughts are back with the pulsing thing lodged inside you, and it's not the first time you wonder how it would be for Sebastian to find the squid there on his exploration of your body. Every possible scenario you've come up with is worse than the last, and you dread the day it will eventually happen. Maybe today isn't that day, you think as he starts moving his hands along your sides whilst kissing you deeply, and you squirm beneath him, hoping he isn't too adventurous today.

You've talked about anal sex before, yet never done it, but you know he wouldn't try something new without asking you first, and as he's busy kissing along your neck and working in more love bites, you assume your arse is safe for tonight, or rather that what is hidden inside. As your body starts reacting to his touches, you feel the squid pulsing even more, adding to the growing tension inside your stomach.

And tense you are, inside and out, and you don't even know why. This isn't the first time you had sex while that tiny creature was inside you, but that's the thing: it used to be much smaller then. You might have overdone it with your alone time recently as it only has become bigger in the last days.

Your mind is spinning as you're caught up in the never-ending cycle of thinking about possible what if scenarios, and you're so distracted that you barely feel Sebastian's preparations, his fingers working swiftly, and only when he pushes his cock into you with one single hard thrust, you come back to your senses and cry out in a mixture of shock and surprise as he buries himself completely inside of you. Your breath hitches in your throat as you stare up at him, propped up on his arms as his dark eyes wander over your face.

You hold onto his wrists as you start bucking your hips against him in an attempt to move along as if you haven't been lost in your own mind for the last minutes or more. He remains bent over you, his thighs pushing your legs upwards as he shifts only slightly against you. When he rests his heavy erection inside your tight walls, you can feel the squid pushing against your muscles from the other side, wanting to join the action apparently, and your eyes widen as you realize that he must feel it too, so you quickly start grinding your hips against him, clenching your walls deliberately, even grabbing the back of his neck to pull his face down to yours.

He obliges and meets your trembling lips, his kiss soft and careful, but you quickly make it messier, needier, as you deepen it with your tongue slipping into his mouth. With a deep grunt he leans down on his elbows and kisses you back with just the same amount of fervour, maybe even more. You wrap your arms around his neck and start pushing your hips upwards against him until he finally moves as well, drawing back and plunging in, over and over again, quickly falling into a steady rhythm that is both fast and deep, and it doesn't take long for you to completely succumb to the sensations.

Moaning against his lips you feel the tension inside your stomach erupting into a wave of pure pleasure as it washes over you with a force that makes your thighs twitch, your toes curl and your muscles contract violently, and in doing so you feel your insides convulsing, moving, and in your haze you barely feel the gentle caresses of these eight little arms you've grown to love so much over the last weeks. Yet once you realize that the squid is about to slip from your bum, it is already too late.

Despite being caught in his own haze as he ruts into your core with reckless abandon, he seems to feel the foreign touch as well, and you see it all unfold in slow motion. You feel too weak to do anything as your orgasm still shudders through your body, as your walls clamp down on his cock, your limbs too twitchy to control, so when his brown eyes widen slowly before he leans back on his knees and stares down at your connection, you don't have to see the tentacles wrapping themselves around his base to know what's going on.

With a deep growl that could also be a yelp or guttural scream, Sebastian jolts off you, slips from your depths as if you've never even been connected, and takes several steps away from the couch, completely ignoring his precum leaking cock, as his shaking hand points at the small creature crawling over your centre. Yet it's not the fact that there is a strange little squid seemingly coming from nowhere that has touched him at the most inappropriate time, it's the fact that you remain so calm and collected as you lie on your back, looking from the squid to your boyfriend and back, and not sharing in his panic.

That's when he explodes.

“What the fuck is that?” he yells with an anger you haven't heard from him in years.

“Sebastian...” you manage to croak out, your voice just a breathy whisper as you lower your hand towards the creature that seems to lean towards your touch, when it's suddenly grabbed by a bigger hand. “No!” you call out and sit up quickly, ignoring the trembling of your own legs, and quickly grab his wrist, keeping him from hurling the poor creature through the entirety of the Undercroft.

The stare he is giving you chills you to your bones. “What are you doing?” he says threateningly quiet, and you know he is more than pissed if he resorts to talking in this low tone.

“Don't hurt it,” you whisper, gently prying his tight fingers open to free the small squid from his crushing hold. To your surprise he lets you, and when he watches you cradle the creature between your hands, his mouth falls open. “It didn't mean any harm...” you add softly.

“You... know that thing?” he says in an even quieter voice, slipping from shock to disappointment to indignation.

You inhale deeply, feeling the squid's little arms coil around your fingers. “I... I do,” you then admit, biting your lip as you look back up at Sebastian, meeting his wide eyes that narrow as he takes in your words.

“You keep a pet squid around?” he asks in a mixture of disbelief and confusion. “Where do you even keep it? Where did it come from?”

That's when your face turns bright red, and you turn away from him, trying to find an answer that wouldn't humiliate you completely. “It... wasn't supposed to crawl out...” you whisper barely audible, your eyes frantically searching the couch and its surroundings for a possible storage place. Before you even consider a different answer than the awful truth, you feel a warm body behind you as Sebastian points past you towards the pile of clothes on the ground.

“You shouldn't keep a squid inside the pocket of your robes,” he comments, and you are tempted to laugh at how innocent and easy it would have been to tell him just that. That you keep the squid in your pocket, instead of where you really keep it.

“Yes...” you breathe, your voice about to break before you clear your throat. “You're right...”

“I suppose it got curious, huh?” he says then, leaning over you to take another, much calmer look at the creature in your hands. “Why is it so... wet?”

His words cause you to gasp and shiver. “Uh... m-magic,” you then stammer the lie that could have been the truth all along. “Keeps it... wet...”

Suddenly you feel very stupid, not just that, disturbingly weird, downright demented and perverted and absolutely disgusting, as you realize you could have kept the squid in a different kind of environment, if you so much as thought about it properly, but your lust for the sensations it invokes in you has been clouding your mind, making you think it is normal and the only way to shove that thing into your holes to keep it safe.

Shaking your head, you bite down hard on your bottom lip to keep the tears of frustration down. The creature in your hands pulses slightly, its tendrils nudging your fingers. Next to you Sebastian is watching you almost the same way the squid seems to look at you. His anger is completely gone from his face. He tilts his head, and out of the corner of your eye you see him examining the elongated body of the squid and its wide head, and you hear it in the way he inhales deeply, that his mind is slowly aligning with yours, despite everything.

“Where do you really keep that?” he whispers into your ear, causing you to shudder deeply. “Because, you know, I've noticed something about that little guy...”

You hold your breath as you stare at your palms and the thing on them.

“It's rather... phallic looking, isn't it?” he keeps whispering, leaning closer to you, his warm body pressing into yours. Your hands start to tremble, and you yelp quietly when he suddenly closes his bigger hands around yours, seemingly supporting the squid on them. “Is that why you've been so distracted lately?”

His question impales you like an icicle, numbing you with a sudden cold rushing down your spine. He knows. He knows exactly where that thing has been and what you've been doing with it these last weeks, and the realization makes your heart stop. But he doesn't sound angry, he sounds... amused. Almost mocking. Definitely teasing.

And you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole. Preferably you and the squid, so you're not alone in your eternity in hell. Even thinking that makes you want to groan loudly, show your frustration about yourself and the situation and how you've handled it and the fact that your boyfriend knows and doesn't explode in rage and how absolutely embarrassing and mortifying and humiliating it all is and –

When you feel his lips on your burning cheek, you freeze, blinking slowly. “Red suits you, love,” he whispers and walks back to sit down on the couch, crossing his legs slightly as he looks up at you, the smuggest expression on his freckled face you have ever seen.

Swallowing hard, you meet his gaze, but you can only bear it for so long before you look back at the squid lying in your hands, gently humming, seemingly observing the scene around it – and the mayhem it has caused by slipping into your pussy in the first place. For a moment you project your anger and frustration at the stupid phallic looking thing, and it seems to sense the shift in your demeanour as its tendrils tentatively close around your fingers, gripping strongly while it pulses against your skin, trying to remind you of the good times it's given you.

“You two want to be alone then?” Sebastian's voice cuts through the little moment you had with your unusual pet, and when you look up at him, he laughs deeply as your eyes narrow and you throw him the darkest gaze you might have ever thrown him. He laughs even more at that. “Come on, love, don't be so tense... you might squish the little guy.”

“Stop!” you call out in rage as you stare at him. He raises his eyebrows, the laugh frozen on his face. “Stop with the... innuendos and the... the... just stop!” you whine out and turn away as tears start flowing down your cheeks.

You feel horrible, childish and embarrassed and deeply disturbed at your own actions. For a moment you want to hurl the squid through the Undercroft for real. But you don't, you keep it safe between your trembling fingers, as you chew on your lips and let out quiet sobs, your tears dripping from your chin and down onto its long body.

Behind you, you can hear the quiet squeak of the couch and then the tapping of bare feet coming closer. “I'm sorry,” you hear his deep whisper close to you. He still keeps his distance, but you can feel the warmth of his body, and for a moment you are tempted to turn around and throw your arms around him and bury your wet face in his chest, but you don't move, you can't, you don't know how to handle the situation.

Luckily for you, despite taking a piss out of you initially, Sebastian is better at talking than you give him credit for sometimes. “Listen,” he starts quietly, hovering behind you. “I didn't mean to belittle you like that. Or even judge you for it. That's not my place. I'm here to support you, you know that, right?”

You inhale deeply, chewing on the inside of your cheek nervously.

He keeps going. “You know, having... certain desires is something completely normal, or it should be, even if society may think differently. But it doesn't matter what others think, me included, when it comes to your happiness. And if that... thing in your hand makes you happy, then I am happy too. For you. If this is a way for you to decompress, to relieve stress, then that's totally fine. I know I can't be with you every hour of the day to do exactly that, so I am glad that you found a different way to keep your mind... well, not busy, the opposite really, uh, to keep your stress levels low by... uh... doing whatever it is you're doing...”

The more he struggles to find the right words, the more the corners of your mouth twitch. He's trying, and you love him even more for it. Holding the squid in one hand, you lower your other hand and slowly turn around to him. His gaze moves from your hand to your eyes quickly, and seeing the slight blush on his cheeks warms your heart.

But despite his stammering, he doesn't seem to be done. “And you know, I think it's... incredibly sexy to have a girlfriend who knows what she wants...” he whispers softly, giving you a warm smile as he extends his hand and gently grabs your free one. “Even if it's fucking a phallic looking sea creature...”

Your mouth falls open, and you are tempted to slap him if only you had a hand to do so. He chuckles softly and leans in to press his lips to your cheek as you struggle to free your hand from his grip.

“I'm sorry,” he says again, looking deep into your eyes as you stare at him, still indecisive whether to forgive him or not. Then again you should be grateful that he's actually trying to understand your situation instead of just fussing about it. Weirdly enough he doesn't even seem jealous. And why should he? You would never replace him with a little squid. Right?

Then again, a magical little creature like that would never look at you like he does now, saying he doesn't judge you and then still make jokes about it. But maybe that is who he is, always resorting to humour when things get too serious, too tough, too outlandish? Too strange to understand? If you look past your own lust-filled mind, you do realize that it's strange, of course it is, it's abnormal, it's – no. No, it's not. It's what makes you happy, like he said. It's only embarrassing because nobody tries to understand the needs you have.

And if that need is – yeah, we get it.

Sighing deeply, you close your eyes, press your lips into a thin line, and focus on the soft pulsing that thrums through your hand as you hold the little squid. Not as little any more, which makes the whole deal even harder to understand, but maybe it's not about understanding after all. It's about acceptance. Before anyone else, you realize you have to accept your own desires, no matter how twisted and disturbing and wrong they may be, and once you can do that, others will too – as seen by the patient gaze Sebastian is throwing you as you eventually open your eyes again.

He gently squeezes your hand, and you squeeze right back as you try to smile at him. His other hand is at your face then, as he wipes at your wet cheeks. “Come on,” he whispers and pulls you back towards the couch without another word. You follow him without hesitation. He sits down, and you sit beside him, placing the squid on your lap, watching it lie there for a moment in the groove between your closed legs, its tendrils twitching, lazily moving over your thighs towards your hidden centre.

“Eager little guy,” Sebastian comments quietly as he wraps one arm around your shoulder, joining you in watching the creature move on your lap.

“It sometimes reminds me of you, you know?” you whisper then, your voice hoarse.

He laughs. “Really?”

“It's eager, as you said, but also considerate, and seems to be able to read my mind and does everything I want... it's always there for me, it makes me happy, very happy...” you list quietly before turning your head to him, smiling shyly. “Just like you.”

He looks at you silently, his eyes warm.

“It's also, obviously, a great lover, but you knew that already, right?” you add with a smirk that finally breaks his silence as he barks a loud laugh.

“Is it better than me?” he teases, nudging your shoulder.

“Comparing people is really an unhealthy thing to do, you know?” you whisper with a quiet chuckle that makes him raise an eyebrow. “You are both very unique in everything that you do.”

His eyebrow rises even higher at that.

You lean closer and grab his chin to tilt it down before you kiss his lips softly. “Don't be jealous,” you whisper. “You have no reason to be. I love you, Sebastian,” you add, kissing him again.

He keeps staring at you before his eyes wander down to your lap where the squid is trying to press itself between your thighs, eager to get away apparently. “Maybe it is jealous...” he says quietly.

“Oh it most certainly is, it acts weird when I'm with you, it –”

His eyes narrow playfully. “Now, exactly where do you hide it, when you're with me?”

Your face turns bright red all over again. Hitting his chest, you groan. Instead of saying anything, you inhale deeply and shift on the couch, slowly opening your legs as you do so. The squid's tentacles grip your thighs as it sees its chance, and while you know what's about to happen, you look up at Sebastian, who stares at your crotch with his eyes wide and his mouth open and his face just as red as yours as he witnesses how the not so little creature presses his long body between your tight folds and vanishes inside your body in a swift motion that makes you shudder deeply.

“Bloody hell,” he whispers with his voice slightly higher than normal. “That's...” You see his lips moving, but no more sounds come from him. It's almost amusing if it wouldn't be equally mortifying. But then he finishes his sentence, and it's your turn to stare at him. “Hot. That's hot. I don't know what else to say, but you have no idea how much that turned me on just now...”

Your laugh is both surprised and soft, and when your eyes wander over his body, you laugh even louder. “Oh I have some idea...” you whisper, your hand gliding over his thigh before you pull his legs apart slightly, revealing his proudly erect cock.

He meets your gaze and smirks at you before his hands find your face and a second later his lips yours as he smashes his mouth against your own. You gasp into the sudden kiss, but quickly grab the back of his neck and kiss him back almost desperately. Happy to be back on normal terms with him, and not just that, apparently on even better ones.

You had no idea he would react like this. Not once in your many what-if-scenarios was this the outcome. And you're glad that, despite it all, he can still surprise you like that.

Somehow you end up in your original position, back pushed into the cushions of the couch with Sebastian leaning on his elbows and his body weighing down on yours. You can feel his erection pressing against your thigh, while deep inside you, the squid starts thrumming against your walls, mirroring the tension that's building in your stomach.

“So,” he whispers between kisses. “Seeing that my... favourite hole of yours... is currently... occupied... how about I... explore your other one... tonight?”

You laugh against his lips. “You don't like to share a hole?”

He frowns at that. “Would it want that?”

“Would you want that?” you ask back.

“No, no, would you want that? I'd imagine that might be rather... painful?” He watches you closely, shifting slightly on top of you.

“Painful for whom?”

“You!” he exclaims with a surprised chuckle. “Or... it? Or me? Does it bite? What if it gets jealous and strangles me with those... tentacles?”

Your turn to chuckle. “It might get territorial if it's too tight, you're right,” you then agree, smirking at him.

His concern turns into that smug expression you love and hate so much. “Better leave it alone in there. Besides, it did have its chance in your... tight... little... bum,” he then says, accentuating his words by slipping his hand under your body and teasing your puckered hole with careful little prods. “Didn't it?”

You squirm against him, laughing softly. “And you won't be sad that you're not the first to breach my... little bum?” you ask quietly, biting your swollen lip.

He gives you a playful pout before he smiles widely. “Nah, it can have that. I was your first in everything else,” he says proudly, leaning closer to kiss you deeply. “Your first kiss,” he adds and moves his hand around your hip and towards your centre. “Your first love, your first... lover, your first boyfriend, in that order,” he laughs softly, and you feel his fingers teasing your folds.

As he does, the squid inside you starts stirring, humming almost angrily, and soon enough you feel the familiar tickle of its tentacles pushing past your entrance, and when they do, you see Sebastian's eyes widening as he quickly withdraws his hand. He leans back on his knees and stares at the little tendrils protruding like angry little antennas before they slip back into you, vanishing out of sight. He clears his throat and shakes his head, exhaling a laugh.

“I might never get used to that sight...” he whispers, a slight blush spreading over his freckled shoulders. “How does it feel?” he then asks, looking back at you.

You rub your warm cheeks. “Really good,” you admit. “It's humming right now, and it can make its body soft or hard, depending on... well, what I need. And the tentacles... tickle nicely, but they also have a really strong grip, and some can become bigger and –” You stop talking as you notice the smirk on his lips, and you blush an even deeper shade of red.

“You sound happy,” he then whispers and surprises you yet again.

You smile shyly. “I am,” you reply before you reach out your arms to beckon him closer to you. He complies and lies down on top of you, his weight pushing you into the cushions. “And not because I have a... phallic looking thing inside my pussy, okay?” you clarify with a laugh as you press your lips to his warm cheek. “I'm happy because you accept me for what I am... what I do... what I... need...”

He cradles your head between his big hands and kisses you softly. “Of course, love,” he says quietly. “I'm here for you and your needs... even if I'm sometimes an idiot about it...”

You poke his jaw in response and grin at him. He smirks against your lips. “Thank you,” you whisper and close your eyes as he leans closer to plant soft kisses on your forehead, your temple and your eyelid.

“Don't thank me yet, I will ravage that sweet little bum of yours tonight,” he then says and leans back on his arms, smiling down at you despite the dark gleam in his eyes. “Right?” At least he still asks you about it.

You chuckle and nod. “Please do,” you breathe softly, biting your lip.

That's all he needs to hear before he scrambles off you and grabs your waist, almost forcefully flipping you onto your stomach. You let out a surprised yelp-laugh, feeling your insides churning in anticipation, which in turn makes the creature inside your tight walls pulse and thrum almost aggressively, its body hardening as it prods against your soft flesh. You gasp under the sensation and when Sebastian lifts your hips up and starts kneading your bum cheeks eagerly.

Your face is pressed into the cushions of the couch as you try to get into a more comfortable position. Your heart is thundering inside your chest, and you just know this will be a night to remember, all parties involved will make sure of that, you can already feel it in your aching muscles.

← CHAPTER 3 - // - CHAPTER 5 →

Notes: Originally this is where the "short fic/long oneshot" ends, but I kept writing and writing, and two more chapters came from my fingers... so there'll be more, much more of this filthy little tale!

*Also I'm not too sure I labeled this right. A squid isn't technically a monster (even though it's closest because of its tentacles and magical nature I guess?), so it's not technically Teratophilia (attraction to monsters), but I also don't want to call this Zoophilia (attraction to animals) because even though a squid is more or less an animal, it just gives off a different vibe. Maybe it's more akin to Ophidiophilia (attraction to snakes)... Difficult thing, these niche kinks.

The time I spent worrying about the correct label when this is just a silly little smut fic. Oh well.

Thanks for reading!

[ MASTERLIST ] [ AO3 ]

[delimeful]

you cant go back (1)

BTHB: Locked Up and Left Behind

first in a new alien series! this one is completely unrelated to WIBAR :)

warnings: abandonment, violence, injury, mentions of death and starvation, mild cliffhanger

-

Virgil was screwed.

This was quite a familiar phrase for him. He most frequently utilized it while trying to haul Jan away from whatever batshit scheme he was joint-deep in before it blew up in their faces. Normally, however, even he could admit that his panic, fury, and/or despair was sometimes exaggerated for emphasis.

“I’m absolutely, massively, unbelievably screwed,” Virgil tried out in a low hissing whisper, and grimaced when it came out sounding like an understatement.

In the corner of his eye, his helmet’s display screen blinked an eye-numbing red, informing him that there was a breach in his suit, and the atmospheric pressure inside had been completely disrupted. There would normally be beeping, too, the shrieking ‘you’re about to die’ kind that made his shelling turn pitch with terror in simulations, but— well.

He’d been able to endure about two clicks of the racket before giving in and tearing through the audio speakers with his teeth, ruining them entirely. It meant he wouldn’t hear any of the vital organ failure notifications, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to experience a sickening play-by-play of his death on another planet anyhow.

The others had left him in some kind of dilapidated shack, hand-painted a faded red on the outside. It looked unstable, but it was apparently built sturdier than any of them expected, enough to not even creak as he thrashed around with all his free limbs. He’d been cuffed around one of the support pillars, which meant that even if he could break it, it would probably just immediately collapse and crush him to bits.

Considering there was an enormous crack in the glass of his helmet, he hadn’t really thought he’d get the privilege of worrying about how he was going to die. Aisleen— the one who had bashed his helmet against her elbow plate— had certainly agreed. She’d waited until after the others had left, granting him a quicker death the way her culture called honorable.

Janus would have disagreed loudly. Not just because Virgil was pretty sure his only friend didn’t actually want to see him choke to death on the probably-somehow-toxic atmosphere of a Deathworld, but also because that guy could go on about interplanetary ethics for rotations if you let him.

Virgil wrenched at his restraints for the hundredth time, ignoring the hot pulse of pain that came with the movement. His chitin had to be cracking by now, but the rawness of that was easier to focus on than thoughts like, ‘I’ll never get to watch him argue someone in circles again.’

The worst part wasn’t wondering if they’d fess up to abandoning him or not. No, the worst part was he wasn’t actually sure which option he preferred.

He could imagine Janus looking for him, searching for leads that didn’t exist, stubborn the way a starving shilsho would stay locked onto flesh. Never knowing what actually happened. Jan hated not knowing things, the way Virgil hated sitting with his back to an open entryway.

But if he knew… If Janus managed to wrest the truth from them— or if they bragged about it— he would blame himself. They’d left Virgil because he was just a weaker version of Janus when it came down to it, and because he backed Janus up no matter what, and because it was funny, leaving the twitchiest guy on the crew to die on a world where anything and everything could kill you.

At least Janus wouldn’t be tempted to come down and retrieve his corpse. The other Chelcera was all about self-serving scheming, and there was no way the benefits outweighed the costs. He had to believe that much for his own sanity.

Virgil closed his eyes, trying to push away the what-ifs and the mental flash-images of Janus stuck in his position. He had more than enough to worry about already.

Since the atmosphere didn’t seem toxic enough to kill him outright (for now), there was a surplus of possible ways he was going to bite it. Weather, wildlife, or withering into a lifeless husk due to lack of sustenance.

Alliteration, nice. He was funny when he was on the brink of deathbed hysterics.

For now, he was only in conceptual danger. The shack was sheltering him from any outside elements, being terrified had killed his appetite, and there didn’t seem to be any heat signatures nearby, though his vision was limited by the sides of the helmet.

It made his skin itch, not being able to see behind him, but his auxiliary arms were spread out and taut, waiting for even a wisp of movement. If anyone tried to attack him from behind, they’d strike quick and true.

Of course, then he’d probably be immediately immolated by a pissed-off Deathworlder, but at least he could go down fighting.

If he was vicious enough, they’d have to kill him, and he wouldn’t have to worry about being taken alive. Bitter venom welled up in his mouth at the thought, and he tried to breathe deeply.

He was thinking too far ahead. For now, he’d struggle and swear and watch his atmo tank dwindle down to nothing, see if it changed anything. Maybe he was going to asphyxiate, after all.

-

He made it through the night.

The sun was close to this planet, enough that he was warm even in the stripped-down version of his bodysuit and in the enclosed shade of the barn. He thought he might even get overheated if he tried to sunbathe here, which hadn’t ever been a concern back home.

Thankfully, the meager sun that spilled through the half-open window didn’t reach him, so he didn’t have to add boiling alive to his list of potential deaths.

Unthankfully, more and more heat signatures popped up as the dawn arrived, all small but still potentially life-ending. He’d heard more than enough horror stories about palm-sized Deathworlder creatures that could kill you with one bite. He wasn’t letting his guard down.

The noise that accompanied the day was welcome— he was exhausted, and every unfamiliar chattering call or whistle made his aux limbs lift back up defensively, keeping him from dropping off into sleep.

He was not falling asleep on a Deathworld. That was just asking for trouble.

The energy crash hit hard, though, and by the time the sun was overhead, he was warm and sleepy enough that he almost missed the slow creak of the door.

He definitely didn’t miss the bright splotch of heat that trotted in, though. He quickly flicked his sensor eyes closed, getting rid of the heat-sense overlay, and felt his hair stand on end as he met the slitted eyes of a small, furry quadruped.

“Mrow?” the creature chirped at him, tail winding back and forth in the air. Its fur was colored in abstract patches, and he could see the tiny fangs in its mouth as it yawned threateningly.

Virgil resisted the urge to hiss, wriggling his wrists desperately. There was no point in antagonizing a Deathworlder creature preemptively while bound and helpless, a voice in his head reminded him. It sounded kind of like Janus.

The creature stalked a little closer, predatory grace in every one of its movements, and paused to watch him again. It’s pupils seemed rounder now, ears flicked up attentively. Virgil resisted the urge to twitch his backlegs, keeping still like a terrified prey animal as it approached at a leisurely pace.

He’d had all of his bulky outer suit stripped from him by the others-- no point in leaving the soon-to-be-corpse with a pricy surface suit. They’d even taken the shoes, which had felt a bit like insult to injury.

Now, with the local fauna drawing close to his feet, it felt more like just plain injury.

As bad as the odds were, he was fervently hoping that he could make himself seem tougher than he was. Maybe having to work for its meal would scare it off? He grit his fangs and drew himself up in preparation to lash out as much as he could in retaliation for whatever damage the creature was about to inflict on him.

It trod directly over his feet and brushed its little head up against his legs, a low rumble beginning to emanate from it.

He stared blankly down at it.

“What?” he clicked quietly, and the creature chirped back at him, taking a tight turn to loop right back around and brush against him in the opposite direction. Still, not a hint of pain.

Did… Did it have contact poisons, maybe? There was a residue of shed fur building up on the ankles of his undersuit, but it seemed surprisingly harmless.

With another, louder rumble, the creature settled into a crouched position-- directly on top of his feet. Its eyes drifted slowly closed, the vibrations it was making rolling through him.

Oh, Seryl and all her stars. It was sleeping on him.

It seemed docile for now, but what would it do if he woke it? Even he threatened to bite people who interrupted his naps, and he wasn’t a tiny wild creature governed only by survival (no matter what Janus told people). His flimsy inner suit wouldn’t stop an Ampen’s claws, let alone Deathworlder teeth or claws.

The creature continued to be a warm purring weight on his feet.

He resigned himself to a very tense next few hours.

-

Patch, as he’d taken to mentally calling the creature, didn’t end up attacking him. When it woke, it stretched languidly, chirped up at him a few more times, and then departed shortly before the sunlight began to fade.

And then, the next morning, it returned. Despite Virgil’s many fears, it continued to show no interest in harming him. At some point in the day, he even accidentally fell asleep with it, and still, no surprise ambush.

Despite Patch’s yawns and rumbles and claw-flexing stretches that could all technically be threat displays, it seemed bizarrely… almost... fond of him.

There was the slightest hitch, on the second day, when he realized Patch could come in the other windows and approach from behind while he slept. Surprisingly enough, the thought of the creature sneaking up on him was less distressing than the idea of accidentally striking out at it while asleep.

The presence of a non-hostile creature keeping him company had been... surprisingly nice when he wasn’t busy freaking out about it.

Once he’d imagined that awful scenario, he couldn’t dismiss the possibility, and so he spent an inordinate amount of time using his aux limbs to fiddle with the sealing latch on his helmet until he could tug it free. The slick surface and broken glass of the visor meant that he fumbled it basically as soon as he got it off, letting it drop to the floor behind him, but the reserve power had already long died anyhow.

And then, when Patch returned a bit after the sun’s rising, they hissed viciously at him the moment he turned his head. They proceeded to refuse to come anywhere near him for a good long portion of the day, at first bristling and pacing back and forth, and then eyeing him oddly while pretending not to, and then finally approaching slowly-- in what Virgil struggled not to view as a predator’s stalk-- and deeming his feet a suitable resting perch once more.

He’d like to say he never had a friendship so exhausting, but his best friend was Janus, so this was basically different ditchport, same junkyard.

“You two’d probably get along,” he said to Patch after he’d been forgiven for the horrific crime of exposing his face. “How do you feel about schemes?”

Patch had imitated one of his double-click noises perfectly, which was somehow mostly-adorable instead of mostly-terrifying. He tried to make one of their little round chirp sounds and mangled it horribly, but thankfully the resulting look they gave him was more alarm than offense.

By the fourth day, he’d begun to keenly feel the effects of being completely without nutrients. It was really only thanks to his nature that he’d gotten this far. Chelcerae were sporadic eaters-- big meals sustained them over longer periods of time compared to other aliens. The downside of that, of course, meant that when his body finally realized that there was no food coming, the hunger pains were going to be all-consuming.

Working at Janus’s side, he’d gotten used to having food when he needed it, or even wanted it. It just figured that he was probably going to die the same way Janus had first found him: starving.

He fell into sleep more and more frequently. It passed the time, and being asleep made it much easier to ignore his impending doom.

Of course, if he’d been aware of the rude awakening he was in for, he wouldn’t have been so eager.

In fact, if he’d known what exactly was going to find him sleeping on that fourth day, he probably wouldn’t have dared to shut his eyes at all.

[helloalycia]

teenage dirtbag [four] // wanda maximoff

summary: Things finally explode between you and Nate, and Pietro decides to get to the bottom of whatever is going on between you and Wanda, though in usual Pietro fashion AKA not subtly at all

warning/s: none.

author's note: this is very beefy, i must admit, but i think you'll all enjoy the outcome 😂💘

part one | part two | part three | part five | masterlist | wattpad

Dinner with the Maximoffs wasn't as strange as I envisioned. Her parents were sweet and the twins did their best to make me feel comfortable. Wanda still seemed mildly frustrated whenever Pietro and I would talk though, and I figured she may have thought I was lying when I told her I didn't like him like that. I hoped that wasn't the case.

After dinner, Wanda took me upstairs to show me her bedroom. I'm not sure how to describe it other than it seemed so Wanda.

"I'm guessing red is your favourite colour," I said when I saw the hints of scarlet in her bedroom. On her walls, in her bedding, on her pillows. Just like her car and her jacket, they were all bright and very her.

"Great observation, Sherlock," she teased with a sly smile.

I returned the smile, sticking my tongue out at her playfully, before having a walk around and coming across her massive CD collection and CD player. Her music taste was actually quite similar to mine, which I definitely didn't expect. It just made her ten times more attractive to me which wasn't good, but oh well. I was here for a good time, not a long time. And my crush on Wanda Maximoff would surely be the death of me.

"D'you have any CDs at all?" she asked, joining my side when she noticed me staring at the shelf.

I crossed my arms, glancing at her. "Don't get me wrong. I'd love to collect them, but it's just so much easier to have Spotify, y'know?"

My intention wasn't to make her laugh, but God I was glad I did when her eyes crinkled and the sound rang around the room, making my heart pinch with adoration.

After giving me some of her pyjamas, the two of us got ready and brushed our teeth before I realised she wanted me to share bed with her.

"You wanna watch some TV before bed?" she asked, clearly not registering my hesitance to slide into her Queen-sized bed.

I swallowed hard. "S-sure."

She turned on the TV at the end of her bed as I slipped in beside her, still a bit rigid as I kept a fair distance from her.

"What you feeling? Comedy? Drama? Horror?"

"Anything is fine with me," I said, still tense.

She hummed in acknowledgement before leaning down on her pile of pillows behind her, edging closer to me. My heart was hammering in my chest as her hair tickled my arm from where she was laying.

"You comfortable?" she checked in, leaning backwards so her head was upside down to see me. "I have more pillows if you need them."

I offered her a small smile, hoping it disguised my nerves. "I'm good."

She nodded before flicking through the channels and eventually settling on reruns of The Office. It took time, but I eventually overcame my initial shock of sharing bed with the girl I had a major crush on and instead relaxed, getting comfortable under the covers.

After watching some TV, we called it a night and fell asleep quite quickly, the day taking its toll on us. For once, I wasn't panicking about doing something stupid. I simply fell asleep, trying to ignore the heat she emanated from beside me.

It was a peaceful night – her bed was super comfortable – and I woke up to the sound of Wanda moving about in her bedroom.

"Shoot, I'm sorry, did I wake you?" she asked when she saw me moving about under the blankets. I tried to blink away the sleep as she continued, "I was gonna wake you soon. School starts in an hour."

I rubbed my eyes, yawning, before sitting up and seeing she was practically already dressed. That meant she would have been up for a while, meaning she would have seen me fast asleep. God, I hated when people saw me sleeping. It always felt so weird.

"It's okay," I got out tiredly, before running a hand through my hair.

"You sleep well?" she asked, spinning around in her chair, her makeup half done. "I tried my very best not to use you as a teddy bear."

She was joking, but I felt my neck grow warm at the thought and damn, it was just way too early to be flustered.

"Yeah, I slept great," I settled, feeling her gaze on me. "Thanks again for having me over."

"Anytime," she said, and something told me it wasn't just a friendly response but that she actually meant it. Maybe it was the kind smile on her lips as she said so. "Just like last night, if you wanna use anything in the bathroom, go for it."

I gave her a thumbs up, taking a moment to wake myself up a little more, before heading to the bathroom to brush my teeth. When I returned to Wanda's room, I saw she'd already made the bed and had laid my clothes on top of it.

"I've got a shirt you can borrow," she said when I grabbed my jeans.

"Oh, I can just wear the same thing again, it's no biggie," I told her, already grabbing my shirt.

She pouted before grabbing a shirt from her closet. "Just hold on. You'll love it."

In no time, she came out from her closet and held out a Paramore tee shirt on a hanger towards me.

"I got it from the last concert I went to," she explained. "I thought you'd like it."

I couldn't help but smile at the thought. "Wow, Wanda. Really? You don't mind?"

She nodded, shaking the shirt as emphasis for me to take it. I did, having a look over it and smiling to myself.

"I'll wash it and give it back to you tomorrow," I promised, taking it off the hanger and holding it with my jeans. "Thanks."

"You can keep it," she said, scratching the back of her head apprehensively. "I've got loads."

"Oh, no, I can't do that," I began to deny, but she shook her head.

"It's fine, I'm giving it to you," she said, before smiling sweetly. "I'm sure you'll look better in it anyway."

Again with the warmth spreading up my neck...

"I doubt that," I quipped with a small smile.

"Go! Go get changed," she said, already pushing me towards the door. "I'll meet you downstairs for breakfast."

I snickered, letting her shove me into the hallway, before heading into the bathroom to get ready. The shirt was oversized, so there was no need to be worried it wouldn't fit. It was actually really nice, plus I liked it that extra bit more knowing Wanda gave it to me. Though I knew I wouldn't keep it. It was hers and she was just being nice.

When I finished making myself look presentable, I headed downstairs and found the twins at the kitchen counter, chatting between themselves. Their chatter ceased when I walked in, with Wanda biting her lip and looking me up and down with satisfaction.

"I was right," was all she said, making me nervous. "You do look better in it than me."

—

The day after that, I did as I said I would and returned Wanda's shirt to her, washed, folded and ironed. Knowing she wouldn't accept it without a fight, I left it in her bag when she wasn't looking during class.

I should have expected her to approach me at my locker afterwards.

"It was supposed to be a gift," she said, and I saw her pretty face reflected in the mirror hung inside my locker.

I turned around, already knowing what she was talking about.

"I told you I couldn't accept," I said politely, giving her a small smile. "I appreciate it though." She seemed disappointed which obviously didn't help with my feelings for her, so I took a leap and added, "Maybe I can get my own at their next concert. In the summer, right?"

She picked up on what I meant and smiled, stifling a laugh. Running a hand through her hair, she met my gaze and I found myself frozen in place as always, unable to look away. I wondered if she knew what she was doing when she did that, knew that she was giving me heart palpitations every time her lips turned into a playful smirk and dark eyes studied me curiously.

My eyes drifted to her lips subconsciously and she must have put on some lip balm or something, prior to finding me just now, as they looked shiny and pink and just so damn kissable. Nate was one lucky guy.

—

Having faced issues with Nate three times now (AKA the three times he happened to launch a football at my head), I'd figured I wouldn't be seeing the last of him. He was a dick, meaning he had a natural inclination to piss people off, particularly me. But I never thought he'd go for Y/BF/N.

We were chilling by our lockers, chatting about his film project, when his books suddenly got knocked out of his hands and he was shoved against the lockers. I straightened up when I saw it was Nate, looking pissed off as he had Y/BF/N's shirt bundled in his fist.

"What the hell are you doing?!" I shouted, trying to shove him off, but he merely pushed me back.

"This isn't your business," he said to me before glaring at Y/BF/N, who was quiet with panic. "You. You've been hanging around my girlfriend and I don't like it."

The colour drained from Y/BF/N's face as Nate slammed his hand to the lockers beside his head, startling him.

"I want you to stay the fuck away from Wanda!" he ordered, and students were starting to pick up on the fight that was clearly about to break out. "You fucking hear me, you nerd? Stay the fuck away!"

Poor Y/BF/N nodded his head, eyes avoiding Nate's. Meanwhile, I was angrier than Nate probably was. Y/BF/N had done nothing wrong. Maybe Nate had just seen Wanda hanging with me and because Y/BF/N was always with me, assumed the worst. Either way, this was no way to handle the situation and I was not gonna let this dick threaten my friend.

"Get the fuck away from him, Nate," I said through gritted teeth, glaring a hole into the side of his head.

Nate barely glanced my way. "I told you this isn't your business, honey."

"Five seconds," I said, standing behind him as a crowd began to form. "You've got five seconds or I'm gonna kick you."

He seemed to ignore me as he tightened his grip on Y/BF/N's shirt, only pissing me off more.

"Five," I began to count down, the grip on my books tightening with nerves and anger. "Four."

He still didn't look my way, just kept slapping Y/BF/N's face to scare him.

"Three, two, one," I said quickly, tired of giving him the benefit of the doubt.

Without waiting anymore, I kicked him between the legs with full force, watching as he instantly let go of Y/BF/N and doubled over. Everybody began to laugh, some making 'ooh' noises, but the consensus was clear – it definitely sucked to be Nate right now.

I tried not to laugh as I watched his face scrunch with pain, turning red. I was starting to appreciate my choice of wearing my doc marten boots today.

"No more balls for the guy who keeps throwing them at my fucking head," I got out, jaw clenching.

He looked up, his face crossing with realisation as he recognised me. In response, he glared in my direction, but it didn't faze me.

"Come on, Y/BF/N," I said, looking to my startled friend. "Let's go."

"What on Earth is going on over here?!" a teacher's voice rang out in the distance, and I groaned internally.

When I turned to leave, I heard Nate from behind me, grunting with dissatisfaction.

"Fuckin' dyke," he mumbled under his breath, and I paused, clenching my fists.

"Y/N, don't–" Y/BF/N tried to stop me, but I was too pissed to care.

I spun around and punched Nate square in the face, feeling good as his smirking face scrunched in pain and his back hit the lockers from the impact.

"Woah!" a teacher came out of nowhere, shoving herself between us and pushing me away from him. "What the hell is going on here?!"

I shook my hand to ease the pain on my knuckles, though the pain couldn't stop the grin on my lips as Nate raised his hands to his face, holding his busted nose. Students were going crazy, egged on by the potential fight, and for once, I didn't mind the attention. Nate had that coming for a while now.

"Everybody back to class! Now!" the teacher yelled, glaring all around her, before her eyes settled on Nate and I. "You two. Nurse's office now."

Nate glared at me behind his bloody nose and, once again, I tried not to laugh. Y/BF/N patted my back, amazement written on his face, before letting me leave with the teacher and an unusually silent Nate.

—

Kicking Nate in the groin and punching him in the face wasn't something I did to get attention, yet that's exactly what happened. Word of the incident spread around the school quite quickly, so much in fact that even students from other grades became aware of the situation and were approaching me to tell me how awesome I was. The whole thing was definitely strange, but I could tolerate it.

What I couldn't tolerate was having Chemistry after lunch and wondering if Wanda knew.

Would she hate me for punching her boyfriend? I wasn't sure. I just knew that when she walked into class and sat next to me, I felt everyone's eyes subtly watching us as if waiting for her to explode at me.

I'd been given an ice pack for my bruised hand after my visit to the nurse's office earlier whilst Nate had been treated for his broken nose (the fact that I'd broken it was hilarious to me, since I knew I wasn't even that strong). The principal had a very angry yell at us both in his office, neither of us willing to reveal the premise of our fight, before giving us detention every day after school for two weeks straight as punishment. Of course, Nate got his two weeks at a different time to mine for fear I'd punch him again (he definitely didn't like that, but he couldn't exactly say that to to principal).

I didn't bother using the ice pack in Chemistry for fear Wanda may ask what was up. I successfully managed to hide my hand and as a second surprise of the day, Wanda mentioned nothing about the incident. Not one thing about her boyfriend, about Y/BF/N, about any of it. I thought she might hint at it, trying to get me to bring it up. But she didn't which made me think she actually had no idea it even happened. Had anyone told her? Had he told her? Nah, probably not. His fragile masculinity probably caused him to change the story to something else so he didn't look like a wimp in front of his girlfriend.

Whatever it was, I was safe for now.

Thinking I'd got away with a confrontation from Wanda, I went about the rest of my day as usual. Well, that was until I was replacing some books in my locker at the end of the day and saw Wanda at her locker behind me, arguing with– yep, you guessed it. Nate.

Y/BF/N was collecting some books from his own locker beside me and we both exchanged looks as we saw the two lovebirds in a heated argument. Just when we were about to leave, someone cleared their throat from behind us, making us turn around.

Wanda was stood there, backpack hanging from her shoulder, beside Nate, who looked like he would rather be anywhere else but here.

"Hi," he started quietly, making Wanda clear her throat. He glanced at her before looking to Y/BF/N. "Look, man, I'm really sorry about earlier. I was wrong about what I said. We cool?"

I tried not to laugh at the way Nate was being forced to apologise by his girlfriend. Y/BF/N glanced to me with questioning eyes, so I simply shrugged.

"I guess...," he finally answered Nate, still a little awkward.

Nate nodded before looking to me. He still had his reservations, judging from the twitch in his expression, but for Wanda's sake, he kept his cool.

"I'm sorry for treating you badly," he said reluctantly. "With the football and just generally."

God, it was so hard not to laugh in his face right now. His nose had gauze taped to it and it made him look like an idiot. I fake coughed to disguise my smile, before meeting his gaze.

"It's, er, cool," I said, not in the mood to be an arsehole to him, even though he deserved it. I'd punched him – I think we were equal for now.

He nodded, before staying quiet. Glancing to Wanda, he waited for her to say something. She rolled her eyes and nodded for him to leave. When he was gone, she sighed tiredly.

"I only heard about what happened after Chem class," she said, mainly to me, a guilty expression on her lips. "I'm so sorry he acted like a jerk."

I chewed my lip, unsure what to say.

"It's okay, Y/N here took care of it," Y/BF/N said, smiling with amusement at me. Okay, well now she definitely knew.

"Yeah, sorry you felt you had to do that," she said with a grimace. "I guess he deserved it though."

"Kind of," I agreed, before noticing the regretful frown on her lips. "He apologised though. It's already happened. I kinda broke his nose... No point in dwelling on it."

She smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Yeah..." Her eyes fell to my bruised hand before lifting it gently. I winced at the ache, but let her hold it, studying the purple bruise painted across my knuckles. "That looks bad."

It felt good punching him though, but I wasn't about to say that since it was her boyfriend I was talking about.

"It's alright," I said dismissively, shrugging. "Nate kind of got it worse. I'll live."

The pad of her thumb stroked the bruise gently and I held my breath, the feeling of her hands holding mine sending shivers up my arm. Her eyes flickered to mine, softened with guilt, before she let go of my hand.

"I should head home," she said after a pause. "I'll see you both tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow," Y/BF/N said for both of us, sensing my loss of words.

Wanda held my gaze once more, eyes half lidded as they glanced down. Before I could even question what she was looking at, she waved goodbye and left.

"She's either starting to realise what a dick her boyfriend is or she's just really into you," Y/BF/N said, patting me on the back. "Maybe both, who knows?"

—

"You definitely cheated," I told Y/BF/N once we finished yet another round of air hockey. "Nobody wins six times in a row like that!"

He laughed at my expression. "Tell me, dear Y/N. How would I cheat? The concept of the game is simple, really. It's not my fault you're terrible."

I rolled my eyes lightheartedly. "Seventh time's the charm. C'mon."

He chuckled, about to put more money in the machine, before his eyes got distracted by something behind me. "Well, would you look at that. The Maximoff twins are here."

"Very funny," I said with a knowing look. "You can't throw me off like that. We've established I'm already terrible. Now c'mon. Let's go!"

"I wish I was joking," he said, shaking his head.

I scoffed, not believing him, and turned around to prove him wrong, but I was surprised when I saw Wanda and Pietro walking into the arcade we were in. They seemed to spot us instantly, waving in our direction before approaching us.

"Fancy seeing you here," Pietro teased with a smile as they stopped before us.

I cracked a smile as Y/BF/N joined my side. "We're hanging out. And you?"

Wrapping an arm around his sister's shoulder, he tugged Wanda close to him. "Sibling bonding time."

Wanda rolled her eyes at his childishness, but I could tell she found it endearing all the same.

"Well, if you want, you can hang with us," Y/BF/N offered, and we all looked to him, myself raising a brow his way. He seemed to sense my reluctance, it egging him on as he grinned at them. "Y/N doesn't mind. Do you, Y/N?"

I swallowed hard as I looked between the twins. "'Course not."

And that's how I found myself playing arcade games with the Maximoff twins that Saturday afternoon. It was actually pretty fun, with Pietro being as competitive as I was and Wanda being the sweetest loser with everything she played. It was so adorable, but I ended up letting her win some games of skee-ball just so I could see that cute nose scrunch of hers as she realised she'd won.

"You gonna let me win like that, too?" Pietro caught on as he took his sister's place in playing against me. He had a mischievous grin on his lips and I felt my mouth go dry at what he was implying.

"You wish," I said, playing it cool, though I wondered if he cared that I clearly let Wanda win. He wouldn't read into it, right?

Pietro took his go as he spoke. "So, I heard what happened with you and Nate at school last week."

I closed my eyes, cringing at the reminder. Pietro merely laughed.

"You kicked him super hard, right?" he asked excitedly. "I heard his face went so red with anger that you could fry an egg on it! And don't forget that punch, goddamn what I would pay to have seen that!"

"Pietro!" Wanda scolded from behind us as her and Y/BF/N played air hockey. "Don't be a tool!"

I felt my face heat up with embarrassment as Pietro continued to laugh. Y/BF/N joined in whilst Wanda tried to hide the smile dancing on her lips.

"You're not even together anymore," Pietro called to Wanda between laughter. Wait, did I hear that right?

"You and Nate broke up?" Y/BF/N asked with disbelief. "Our grade's 'it' couple broke up?"

Wanda ran a hand through her hair to distract from her flittering eyes. "He treated you horribly last week. Both of you." She glanced my way before looking at her shoes. "He was a jerk. It was long overdue... Also, I would have broken up with him there and then had I known what he'd said to you. I'm sorry he said what he did."

She stared at me with apologetic eyes and I wasn't sure what to say or do other than nod awkwardly and look away. The fact that she'd broken up with him put a smile on my face though.

"I just think it's awesome," Pietro admitted, before saluting playfully to me. "Thank you for your service. I knew you were awesome, but this is a whole new level."

I sighed, attempting to hide my smile, before straightening up to play. Pietro and I played some skee-ball before I decided to have a go at the claw machine. Wanda was at the one beside me, attempting to win herself a fluffy black cat plush toy. She'd had three goes before giving up, admitting to defeat.

"Typical Wanda," Pietro teased. "Giving up when the going gets tough."

She punched him in the arm, making him jump and rub it. That elicited a smile from her, making me laugh at their immaturity.

"How about Wanda and I go and get a table in the diner next door whilst you finish up winning whatever it is you're trying to win?" Y/BF/N asked, looking to me, as if assigning blame.

"I already told you, I'm not leaving this machine until I win at least one thing," I stated stubbornly.

"The amount of money you've put into the machine won't make up for whatever you win," Y/BF/N teased with amusement.

"Just go," I said, waving my hand dismissively. "I'll be there soon."

"I'll wait with her," Pietro said, resting a hand on my shoulder, making me shrug him off jokingly. "See you soon," he added with a laugh, to his sister and Y/BF/N.

When they left, I looked to Pietro with an amused smile. "I don't need you to look after me, y'know."

He shrugged and looked through the glass of the claw machine. "I know. But I stayed to give you some advice, princess."

"Oh, really? And what advice is that?" I asked, before putting some coins in the machine to have another go.

"People usually tend to win these things for people they like, right?" he asked, nodding to the plush toys in the machine.

"Or for themselves," I corrected with a curious smile. "Take Wanda for example. How badly did she want that cat?"

He crossed his arms, smiling with amusement. "You could win it for her, y'know."

"What?" I asked, half paying attention as I attempted to grab a teddy bear.

"Win the cat for my sister and give it to her?"

I ended up dropping the teddy from the claw as I looked to Pietro with shock. He laughed at my expression, leaning against the machine.

"You do like her, right? Otherwise this is awkward," he added as an afterthought, looking down and smiling to himself.

My jaw hung open. "I– er– I never really– I don't–"

"She must definitely like you," Pietro noted, glancing at me.

I licked my lips as I found my words. "Did she," I cleared my throat, "did she say something?"

"Well, no," he said, "but she looks like she wants to murder me every time I hang out with you."

"That's just a coincidence," I said, shaking my head and looking back to the machine. "She's not–" I thought about, before shaking my head again. "No."

I appreciated Pietro's help, but Wanda definitely didn't like me like that. She was just protective of her brother and friendly to me. It didn't mean anything.

"Look, you don't have to listen to me," he said, straightening up and looking at the machine as I slotted another coin in. "But you could give it a shot. See what happens."

I glanced at him, his blue eyes watching me knowingly, a matching smirk on his lips.

"Fine," I gave in, hoping it wouldn't backfire. "Let's see what happens..."

[gaysimpsstuff]

Hawks With a Reader Who Tics

Genre: angst, fluffy fluff, 

Reader Pronouns: none

Other: This is based off of my tics, which usually only occur when I’m super stressed, and they’re all pretty simple. Just slapping my thigh, making a clicking noise, and general neck wanting to not be on my shoulders. If you want something more generalized, or something more along the lines of Tourrete’s Syndrome I am more than happy to oblige. Also this is totally self-indulgent so if no one else relates to this that’s fine.

Warnings: mentions of past teasing, reader cries, tics, shitty parents, cursing burnt toast and burnt bacon (the food not Dabi)

Taglist:  @smolchildfangirl @yuu-anon @poke-txts @combat-wombatus  -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You had been going out with the Number Two hero Hawks for about two months now, and things were going great! No weird clicking noises or head-jerking or arms wanting to smack your thigh or random shouts of the word ‘yummy.’ You were beginning to think that maybe all your weird (an)tics had disapeared.

You’d never been more wrong.

Okay maybe you’ve been more wrong at times but still you were wrong.

All it took was one shitty day. Co-workers being assholes, Karens being Karens, but worst of all was a phone call full of bullshit from your parents. That was all it took for your body to start moving on its own. And not in the good way, the way that causes you to make weird clicking noises, jerk your head around like an owl, smack your thigh and repeat the word ‘yummy.’ 

Okay, you could deal with the clicking noise and the random yummy outbursts but all the more physical things? You really didn’t have the patience to deal with it. Which resulted in you leaving work early, complaining about being sick while masking as much as you possibly could to your boss.

And finally, you were home. And free to just let your tics do whatever the fuck they wanted until they wore themselves out. You hoped this wouldn’t be the type to last over a day, because that happened sometimes, and it was so annoying.

But you forgot something, something very important. You’d planned with your boyfriend to meet up and watch movies at your place. You were just lounging around half naked when you got the text that he was on his way.

“Fuck shit!” you rushed to get decent, knowing that all you could really do was put on a shirt, pants, and half-hazardly brush your hair before you heard the doorbell ring. “Alright Y/n you can do this.” you muttered. “It’s Hawks, he’s chill, you can stay calm and click still around him. Th- this’ll be easy! Suuper click click easy! And If you do tic, no problem he won’t hate you or make fun of you or break up with you! Just gotta go out there and face him, easy peasy... orIcouldrunawayandfakemydeathandlivemycottagecoredreamwithablindcatohhhyeahthatsoundssomucheasier*.” you shook your head (bad idea, you ended up hitting your chest really hard) and forced yourself out of the bathroom and to the front door, quickly ushering your boyfriend in.

“Baby bird! I haven’t seen you in person in forever!” he exclaimed. You sighed, looking up at him and immediately relaxing. Your boyfriend was so pretty, so kind, so perfect. Nothing could get in the way of a nice relaxing night.

“You saw me three days ago.” you deadpanned, holding back a click.

“It felt like forever!” he complained, walking in and shrugging his coat off. He was still in his hero costume, so he must’ve only just gotten off work. He folded his coat and put it on the little table next to the door, alongside his goggles and headphones.

“You aren’t injured?” you asked, checking his arms and face for scratches, then glancing at his wings to check their size. How many feathers had he used today?

“Baby don’t worry, I’m okay. Today was pretty chill. I only needed to use my wings for like- three things today. What about you? How was work?” you stiffened, praying you wouldn’t betray yourself.

“Eh it was okay.” you shrugged nonchalontly or however the fuck you spell it. Hawks raised an eyebrow at you. 

“You know I can tell when you’re lying.” you gave him a forced smile, ignoring how your heart sped up. 

“W-what are you talking about?” Stuttering. Of course you were stuttering. It wouldn’t take much longer before you simply couldn’t mask anymore.

“Dove, tell me what happened, I’m your boyfriend I want to help you-” he stopped talking when he saw how your hand was bouncing against your thigh, striking it hard.

“Fine- I’m I’m I’m F-fine fine!” you exclaimed, head jerking backwards. Hawks blinked in confusion.

“What was that?” his voice rose in concern. Tears were brimming in your eyes as you flinched away from his touch. You didn’t say anything, only grabbing the back of your neck to forcibly hold your head down. Even when you ticked you could just hold yourself back.

“Baby, talk to me, you’re worrying me.” Hawks took another step forward, and you just stepped backwards again, whimpering.

“N-no! No no!” you cried. Hawks stared at you with wide eyes, fearful. Suddenly he relaxed. 

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay.” his tone was different this time, soothing, sweet, it was exactly the kind that would make you relax. “I’m here, I’m gonna help you. Can you move your hands for me, Babe?” 

Slowly, your moved your hands away from your neck, immediately your head tried to dislocate itself, and a sharp stab of pain shot up your spine. 

“OW!” Hawks opened his arms, still giving you a kind look.

“I know, I know it hurts.” he whispered. “Just come here, let me hold you.”

Hold you? When you were spazzing out like this? What if you hit him? What if you hurt him badly? What if he never wanted to see you again?” What if-

You ran into his arms, sobbing. You felt something soft tickle the back of your neck. A feather. He rubbed your back soothingly. Rocking the two of you back and forth as you cried against his chest.

“S-sorry! Sorrysorrysorry!” you yelped when your arm smacked his side. 

“Shhhh shhh baby it’s okay.” He took your hand, gently moving it towards his face. Bad idea. You jerked your hand out of his grip, sniffling. 

“Do-don’t do th-that- don’t do that. I’ll hu-hurt you. S-sorry.” he nodded.

“I understand.” he murmured, taking the two of you to the couch. He kept you close to him, feathers covering your body to try and help you relax. It was nice. He was warm and his voice was soft. You felt so... heavy. You closed your eyes, cuddling against him, close as you could possibly get before you finally fell asleep.

You slowly opened your eyes, the smell of bacon filling the air. You blinked a couple time, realizing you were in your bed. You sat up, groaning. Your neck felt so sore. 

Click click

Ah, right. The tics were back. You thought back to yesterday, eyes widening as you remembered what happened. Hawks. He had come over hoping for a movie and cuddles, hoping for a break from taking care of people, and you’d ruined that with your stupid tic attack. How long had he stayed with you? Did he stay awake to make sure you didn’t tic in your sleep?

You ran out of your room, grateful you were still in your cozy movie party clothes. In the kitchen, Hawks had two plates on the counter, both with scrambled eggs and two slices of toast. Bacon was sizzling in the pan. 

“Good morning, Dove! How are you feeling?” he asked, a soft yet tired smile on his face.

“Hawks! Hawks oh babe I am so so sorry about last night!” you exclaimed, your fingers twisted and curled around each other as you hoped to find comfort in the movement.

“Don’t be, it’s okay. I made breakfast, look! I may have burnt the toast but you’ll be fine with that, right? Baby?” he cocked his head to the side, noticing your expression.

“Y-you sure it’s okay?” you asked softly.

“Yeah! Was this the first time you had muscle spasms?” He sent a feather towards you, tickling your nose before circling around and rubbing at the back of your neck. You felt yourself on the brink of tears again at the soft gesture.

“No...” you murmured. “But I haven’t had them in a while I- I thought they were gone.” He nodded, humming.

“What triggers them?”

“Just- general anxiety and bad thoughts...” you mumbled. 

“Alright. If you ever start ticking again, just call me. I’ll swoop in and help you. I’m pretty sure it’s hard to get stuff done when your body moves without you.” he flashed you a bright smile.

“Doesn’t it... weird you out?” you asked. “I could hurt you... I could accidentally break something I- I-”

“Baby.” you looked up at him. He took a step towards you, cupping your face into his hands and pressing a kiss to your lips. “I’m here for you. I care about you so I’m going to do everything in my power to make you feel comfortable. It’s my duty as hero, but more-so as your boyfriend.” you sniffled, nodding.

“Baby?”

“Yes, Dove?”

“You’re gonna burn the bacon.”

“SHIT!”

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

*orIcouldrunawayandfakemydeathandlivemycottagecoredreamwithablindcatohhhyeahthatsoundssomucheasier 

Translation: Or I could Just run away and fake my own death and live my cottage core dream with a blind cat ohhh yeah that sounds so much easier

[morgansmoreid]

Do You Still Love Me • Derek Morgan • Chapter Six

Chapter Name: "Take My Mind off All the Bad"

Fic Masterlist

Italic writing stands for flashbacks.

Content/Trigger Warnings: Slightly Detailed Smut, Implied Drug Usage, Talks of Child Molestation (very brief/Derek's past)

Smut Warnings: Cunnilingus, Praising, Overstimulation, Begging, Orgasm Delay, Penetrative Sex, Daddy kink (slight), Unprotected sex, Handjob

Bold Italic stands for the talking between phone calls

---

"I don't push people away," Y/n mumbled as she pulled into the hotel parking lot.

She grabbed her jacket from the passenger side and headed to her room, ignoring the kind worker who said hello to her.

Y/n stepped off the elevator and pulled her key out of her back pocket, the 'ding' filling the hallway silence at that moment.

Closing the door quietly, Y/n walked towards the small light from the lamp on the left side. As she whipped her head around the corner, she was met Derek's bright smile.

"Hey," He nodded, muting the bad hotel show he was watching.

"Hi, baby," She slipped off her blazer and threw it onto a nearby chair with her jacket.

Walking to the bathroom, Y/n turned on the shower and looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were red, and her cheeks started to puff.

So many tears spread for the ones who don't care.

Stripping the rest of her clothes, Y/n stepped into the shower, the hot water flowing over her body. She just stood there for a while, the water the only thing filling the silence in the bathroom. The time moved slowly, leaving Y/n trapped in her thoughts.

"Ms, Feilds, please take off the sunglasses," The math sub called Y/n during the work period.

Y/n scoffed and slouched down as her heavy eyelids began to betray her.

"The sunglasses," The sub asked again, this time more demanding.

Before Y/n could say anything, Arianna turned around and grabbed them off Y/n's face.

"Fuck!" Y/n winced at the added sunlight.

The teacher took one look at Y/n's dilated pupils and took her into the hall.

The knock at the door pulled Y/n out of her thoughts.

"Bae?" Derek called out, the shower curtain blocking his concerned expression from Y/n's eyes.

"Hm?" Y/n hummed, poking her head out of the shower, not leaving much to the eye.

"You ok?" Derek leaned in.

Y/n shook her head in reassurance, a chill filling her body as Derek's thumb swiped across her cheek.

"So why are you crying?" He pulled back.

Y/n just stares at him.

"You don't see them, you won't get it."

"You might leave, I don't want you to."

"I hold up my past with strong walls, it only takes one hit though. One hit and it's all gone."

"I have habits that are calling my name and yet you are the only thing that keeps me from giving in."

That's what Y/n wants to say. She wants Derek to know, she wants him to listen.

"Sad day, that's all. Pass me that towel?" She changes the subject instead.

He looks back and passes her the towel hanging off the bathroom door. She wraps it around herself and steps out, turning off the shower from the outside. She walks out of the bathroom, Derek following behind as she pulls out a shirt and some underwear from her go-bag. She throws the towel to the bed, her body now exposed to Derek. He watches as she slips on the black underwear and one of his oversized graphic tees before throwing the towel over to the same chair her jackets were in.

Derek walks over to the bed, sitting in the same spot he was in before. Eyes follow down Y/n's body, almost habitual, a small grin appearing on his face at his marks that were starting to clear up from a few nights before. Y/n walks toward the bed and sits next to him, the hotel mattress providing little to no comfort at all.

"Are you ok?" She asks as she lays her head on his shoulder. It's a small gesture, but that's all Y/n wants and needs.

"Just tired, been a long day." Derek kisses the top of her forehead.

"You got that right," Y/n laughs.

It's a genuine laugh, a happy one.

Wrapping an arm around her torso, Derek pulls Y/n as close as he could. She's hiding something. Derek knows what it feels like to go through the lengths of keeping a secret. He was willing to go to jail for a murder he didn't commit if it meant no one knows what Carl Buford did to him. If it meant he didn't have to relive those memories once more.

Except even with the team by his side, Derek felt alone.

And when the memories resurface, when Derek can feel Carl's touch, he feels alone. Y/n pulls him out of that but he still feels alone. He doesn't want her to feel that.

It sucks to feel that.

"I love you," He mumbled into a comfortable silence.

Y/n looked up, her head almost hitting his chin, and just smiled.

"I love you too," She kissed his lips.

His soft, warm, comfortable lips.

Neither one could tell you what happened. Derek pulled Y/n in, leaving her straddled on his lap. Their kiss grew hotter as Y/n pulled herself closer to Derek, his forming boner giving her the friction her body desired. Hands gripped her sides as they moved down to her ass, a small moan leaving her mouth into his.

Derek's hands moved up Y/n's bare back as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Derek pulled the tee off of Y/n, throwing it somewhere in the room. Her skin was warm against his chest. His lips kissed and marked down her body before coming back up to hers.

"I love you," He said one more time.

"I love you."

Wrapping one arm across her back, Derek repositioned them both as a grin appeared on his face at the sight of his girlfriend under him.

Legs wrap around his waist as Derek marks Y/n's neck. He taps the side of her thigh, signaling for her to unravel her legs. As they fall to the side, Derek resumes his travel down her body again, this time taking the black underwear with him.

His arms wrap around her thighs as he pulls her all the way to the edge, eyes searching her for consent to continue.

She nods but it's not enough for Derek. He raises an eyebrow at her, getting an eye-roll in return.

"Tell me what you want." He mumbled.

"You." Y/n bluntly stated, staring him down.

"Can't hear you," He taunted, his fingers moving closer to Y/n's wet arousal.

"Please daddy," The words rolled of Y/n's tongue.

That was all it took for Derek. His lips attached her clit, a loud moan coming from Y/n in response. Her hands grabbed onto the bedsheets, squeezing them hard as Derek quickly quickened his pace.

To silence her moans, Y/n brought her hand to her mouth, the method only muffling the sounds to the bare minimum. Frowning at her actions, Derek added two fingers into her slit and pulled her hand down, her moan like a medley in his ears.

Small curses and names left Y/n's mouth as her orgasm started to build up.

"Derek..." She cried, her muscles tensing.

Instead of responding, Derek's tongue quickened its pace as his fingers curled inside of her again and again.

Throwing her head back, Y/n felt her composure wearing off as she called Derek's name one more time, only it came out in a breath, relieving how close to her climax she truly was.

As his fingers continued to thrust inside her, Derek pulled away and smirked at the begging Y/n.

"Go ahead," He growled in her ear.

He moved up to her face as his thumb came into contact with clit, throwing Y/n completely off the edge. With their chest's now in complete contact, Y/n's nails slid down Derek's back as she came down from her high.

Removing his hand, Derek ran his other one against Y/n's face, leaving small kisses as her breathing returned to a normal pace. His other thumb swiped across the tip of his tongue, Y/n's sweet arousal to taste.

He loved every part of Y/n. Take one look at them together and the feeling was clearly mutual.

Both of them wanted more.

Both of them craved more.

Turning her head to look at him, Y/n pressed her lips against Derek's, the taste savoring and sweet. His own muscles relaxed to the calm touch of her nail against his shoulder and her body goes soft at his hand to the side of her leg.

It's just the two of them in this moment-and they know it.

The kiss deepens fast as both tounges fighting for dominance. Y/n gives in and pulls the drawstrings of Derek's grey sweatpants, losing them out of the small knot they were in. Derek's figure points out just from under the band, a low grunt comes out as Y/n palms him.

His eyes meet hers, glassy and lust-filled as she lets at a patronizing smile. Pulling the sweats down, Y/n's hands rub on Derek, the action causing him to grip the sheets above her head with no mercy.

"Keep doing that and you'll ruin the fun," He said, his tone assertive and demanding.

"Like this?" Y/n fastened her pace as she batted faux innocence to Derek.

Instead of giving her a reaction, Derek used his hand to spread Y/n's leg farther away from his. Two steps ahead of him, Y/n made his job easier and braced herself for what was next.

"Ready?" Derek lined himself up with Y/n. He was aware of his size, he was aware of what he could do to Y/n.

And he loved it.

Slowly thrusting into her, Derek gave her a second to adjust before lacing his fingers with hers. He loved when it was just them. He loved when she was all his, all for him. He loved the way her eyes rolled back as his thrusts got harder. He loved the way his name rang out her mouth in pleasure.

He loved everything when it came to Y/n.

Especially her nails dragging down her back.

Y/n's fingers tightened around Derek's as she felt her second orgasm coming. Her body was sore and tired from the first time and she was getting closer and closer.

"You can do it," Derek praised in her ear.

"Come on do it for daddy," He kissed her lips, the words enough to send her past her limit.

Walls clench around Derek as her free hand drags down his back, Y/n's leg shaking violently as a result. His body fully covers her second later, one more thrust ending both of them.

It's like home to both of them. Their bare skins in contact with each other and only each other, the words that he mumbles in her ear, each syllable spent expressing his love for her.

They take away each other's bad.

Taking all the warmth with him, Derek head to the bathroom and comes back with a damp cloth.

"A shower will do us both good," He presses the fabric onto Y/n's body.

[marauderundercover]

This Side of Normal Ch. 7

AO3

Prev

Marinette Dupain Cheng didn’t have a normal life. On the contrary, some would call her life Miraculous. Well, one would. And she would whack him every time. As much as she loved her brother (in all but blood) Adrien, she couldn’t stand his puns most of the time. After he first lost his arm a year ago at the final battle against Hawkmoth, she let him get away with a lot of puns and awful jokes. Because she blamed herself for his injury. She should’ve been able to fix him. But she wasn’t. She still blamed herself some days, but she no longer laughed at every single one of his puns. He knew she hated them, and it was better for her mental health to let him know how awful they were. She’s stirred from her thoughts by Adrien nudging her, obviously trying to get her attention.

“Where are we going for our spring break trip? You helped Mme. Bustier plan that, right?” Adrien asks. She frowns, not sure what brought that topic up.

“We’re going to spend a week in New York and then a week in London. Why?” She asks, confused at his worried expression.

“Okay well, maybe you should tell Mme. Bustier that. Because she just said that we’re spending two weeks in New Jersey.” Adrien says with a grimace.

“WHAT!?” She yells, jumping out of her seat.

“Marinette! I was trying to go over the details of the trip. I’m very disappointed in you. You know better than to interrupt like that.” Mme. Bustier says, shaking her head with a small frown. Marinette’s face turns red and she drops back into her seat, muttering an apology.

“What do you mean we’re going to New Jersey? What’s even in New Jersey?” She asks Adrien in a hushed whisper, conscious of the glares from Lila at the front of the room but determined to ignore them any way she can.

“Gotham, apparently. And the Wayne family. According to Lila, she can get us in for a tour at Wayne Enterprises and Gotham Academy and every other thing the Waynes do. Because she’s dating Damian Wayne, didn’t you know?” Adrien explains, lip quirking in amusement. Marinette groans, dropping her head onto their table.

“Do you realize now I’m going to have to arrange at least part of that? Or we won’t have anything to do and we’ll be stuck in some random city for two whole weeks.” Marinette says, a headache already forming.

“Or, or, hear me out. You could just let her fail. And the trip will flop and everyone will see that she’s awful.” Adrien says. It was a much different response than what he would’ve had a year ago. But the defeat of Hawkmoth and the revelation that his father was a supervillain was enough to alter Adrien’s world view. He wasn’t hopelessly optimistic anymore. He was more cynical. He was still insanely kind, but he didn’t give out his kindness to people who didn’t deserve it. Like the lying bitch in their class.

“I don’t wanna be stuck in a hotel with her for two weeks.” Marinette points out with a grimace. “Wait a minute, why does Gotham sound familiar?”

“Probably from when you were friends with Alya. Batman and his whole team is from Gotham.” He says, slumping down in his seat so that he can continue to whisper to her.

“Oh goody. Crime capital of the US and Lila decides to lie her way into the city. But it wasn’t enough for just her to be targeted. Oh no, she had to get our entire class involved. Yippee.” Marinette snarks, shoving her face back into her folded arms on the desk. It was too much for this early. Time for a nap.

---

After submitting a five thousand word essay on how beneficial a tour of Wayne Enterprises would be and an additional three thousand word essay to Gotham Academy on the benefits of having an exchange class for a week, Marinette was pleased to say that their trip to Gotham wouldn’t be completely boring.

In fact, it would be similar enough to what Lila had lied that hopefully, she wouldn’t be blamed for messing anything up. Sure, they wouldn’t have personal tours from the Wayne family or an invitation to the Spring Gala that the Waynes were hosting, but at least they’d have something to do in Crime City. Hopefully with the amount of security at both Gotham Academy and WE, they wouldn’t run into too many villains. After three years under Hawkmoth, she never wanted to deal with a villain again. Unless she could punch him or her in the face. Then yeah, she’d happily meet a villain. But seeing as it’s highly frowned upon to piss off a Gotham villain like that, she’d prefer to just not see one at all. Would certainly make things easier.

Marinette huffs, glaring at the mess of clothes falling out of her suitcase. She’d started packing two days ago, and then yesterday discovered that she packed the outfit she wanted to wear on the plane. So then she had to take everything out, but then she couldn’t find the outfit and after throwing everything around she found the outfit. Still in her dresser. And now she had a huge mess falling out of her suitcase and not enough time left to pack neatly. Not if she wanted to get any sleep.

“Hey Adrien, can you give me a hand?” She asks, beginning to fold the mess of clothes back up. He’s silent for a minute, and then she hears a click. She sighs and looks up just in time to catch the arm he threw at her.

“There you go!” He says cheekily, a wide grin on his face as he hangs upside down from her bed. She narrows her eyes.

“You know what I meant, you absolute menace.” She deadpans. He snorts before dropping down, landing gracefully and catching the arm she throws back at him.

“You know you love me, Bug.” He says, helping her fold her clothes.

“Unfortunately.” She says with a dramatic sigh. “You hear from Jay yet this week?”

“Yeah. Told me, and I quote ‘stop annoying Pixie Pop with your lameass jokes kid. I can’t protect you from her fury from across the ocean’.” He says with a laugh.

“At least he knows I’d best you in a fight.” She says with a hum. Adrien sputters, an offended look on his face as he slams her last shirt into her suitcase.

“That is not what that meant!” He argues with a pout.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Kitty.” She says, zipping the suitcase shut and trying hard to ignore the bad feeling settling deep into her stomach. Something was going to happen in Gotham, and she wasn’t sure if it would be good or bad.

---

Of course the class would leave them on their first full day in Gotham. It made sense. They’d hated Mari before Hawkmoth’s reveal. And after Hawkmoth’s reveal, they were hesitant around Adrien. Even with the whole ‘my dad cut off my arm’ thing. So honestly, leaving the two of them stranded at the hotel was just par for the course.

“At least we’re together.” Marinette says bitterly, thinking of the fact that the class would be getting to tour Wayne Enterprises. A place that she had worked hard to allow them to tour.

“Come on Mari, look on the bright side.” Adrien says, grabbing her hand and tugging her along.

“What bright side? We were left behind, in Gotham, of all places. What could possibly be good about this situation?” She asks, slightly dragging her feet as he tugged her along behind him.

“Mmmm, the fact that Wayne Enterprises is only a block away.” He says with a grin. She straightens immediately, actually keeping up with his pace now instead of allowing herself to be dragged behind him.

“Why didn’t you lead with that?” She asks, shaking her head in faux disappointment. He shrugs.

“I like a little chaos.” He says. Marinette opens her mouth to snark back at him, but is instead silenced by the building in front of her. Wayne Enterprises was slightly intimidating, but she was still amazed by its design. It was modern and sleek and her hand twitched towards the sketchbook in her purse. She could just imagine skirts with the same sleek shapes and dark colors, suits whose build was used to make the wearer look taller. Just as she’s about to pull out her sketchbook, she sees a familiar head of hair walking into the building. Dark hair with a white streak. But-

“Was that Jason?” She asks, suddenly far more interested in the man who just walked in. Adrien’s gaze snaps to where hers is, frowning at the closed door.

“I don’t know, but let’s go see.” He says, and this time, she’s the one tugging him. Their class completely forgotten. Until they walk through the doors and hear the incessant chatter and noise that comes with being around Lila Rossi. But not enough that is enough to deter the two from their goal. Especially when the man they’d followed turns around, a familiar face set into a scowl.

“Jay!” Marinette calls, waving at him. The man’s scowl instantly drops into a wide smile and he rushes past the class, sweeping the two up into a huge hug.

“Pixie! Kid! What are you two doing here?” He asks, holding them close.

“Jay-Jay, can’t breathe.” Mari says, letting out a puff of air as he sets them down gently.

“Hey Jay!” Adrien says, a wide smile on his face, one of the most sincere smiles Mari had seen in a while. She felt her own face fall into an easy smile. After a year apart, they were together again.

“Uh. Jason? Job, remember?” A voice asks, pulling the three out of their reunion. Jason looks at the man and rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, Dick, thanks. I’d completely forgotten why I came all the way here.” He snarks, no venom in his tone.

“Did you just-” Marinette starts to ask, uncertain if he was calling the man a name or?

“Shit, I forget that even though you speak it just fine, English isn’t your first language. His name is Richard, but ‘Dick’ is a nickname for Richard. It’s what he usually goes by.” Jason explains, snorting at the look on her face. She huffs and rolls her eyes.

“Well excuse me, Mr. To be fair, you calling someone that wouldn’t be out of the question. You have shitty language a lot of the time.” She teases with a smirk.

“That’s it. You’re disowned. I no longer claim you as my little sister.” He says, turning around dramatically and walking away. Marinette’s jaw drops at him. She looks at Adrien who just smirks, and then at Dick who just looks confused with the entire situation.

“What the hell was that? I thought I was the dramatic one.” She pouts.

“Looks like you’ve lost your touch Bug.” Adrien says, crossing his arms. Her eyes narrow.

“Is that a challenge?” She asks. He shrugs.

“Do with it what you will. Just don’t get him in trouble, I think he actually works here.” He says, glancing around the packed lobby. Marinette looks around and sighs. She didn’t want to make a scene with the class, and she definitely didn’t want Jason to get in trouble.

“I’ll get him later.” She mumbles, falling into place on Adrien’s right side naturally. The two walk in sync to the rest of the class, oblivious to the bewildered look given to them by Dick Grayson.

Next

Master list

Tag list (open): @toodaloo-kangaroo @laurcad123 @kittenmywaythrulife @lost-in-the-world-of-maribat

[yoontaethings]

normal kind of love — jjk (1)

pairing: jungkook x reader 

rating: explicit

word count: 2.5k

warnings: a lot of cussing and some teasing if you squint, but other than that none really (the warnings will come next chapter lmao)

you’re one half of hollywood’s on-screen it couple. the greatest chemistry known on-screen with the one and only, jeon jungkook, the bane of your existence.

a/n: this was supposed to be a longer chapter but i decided to split it in half to tease potential readers mwahaha btw this chapter is very very unedited, though i did postpone the upload because i had to remove some parts because i just thought the story didn’t need those bits anymore lol but the rest of this story i haven’t even read through yet, i just wrote and wrote and wrote so please excuse any errors (my tenses might also not be consistent but i’ll edit this soon)

taglist: @min-nicoleee @thisartemisnevermisses @ggukkieland @kokoandkookie @somelazysundays

There was no way.

There was no way in hell they were pairing you up with him. Again.

You were confirmed to be cast as the female lead in the movie before any other characters were casted. They should have chosen a different male lead for this romance film. Heck, even Kim Taehyung, a friend of yours, received an offer for the role and you were certain he planned to take it. Unfortunately for you, even if Taehyung wanted the role, he couldn’t accept it because of scheduling conflict with another film he’s already working on.

Jeon Jungkook, an actor you starred alongside in “Dangerous Illusion”, was just confirmed as the male lead of your upcoming movie “Chosen for Pleasure”. The same man who seemed to make it his life goal to ruin you. After Jungkook was confirmed to play the male lead in your upcoming movie, fans on Twitter have been blowing up about it and made you two a trending topic worldwide. Elated fans mentioned you in their tweets expressing how happy they were to see you two again together. You wish you could say you felt the same.

The previous movie you worked on was a thriller/mystery. You played the part of Jungkook's wife in the film. The film was a blockbuster hit, as a result of the well-thought storyline, yet additionally because of its leads. Fans adored the chemistry between you and Jungkook, regardless of not having a lot of romantic scenes in the film. There were a lot of fans who wanted to see you two on-screen once more, this time, in a romance focused film. Looks like their wishes were coming true.

To add insult to injury, your impending film was going to be an adult romance. It required some steamy scenes that normally didn't trouble you because you were a true professional, yet absolutely irritates you now since you need to do them with Jeon Jungkook.

The script reading was to be done today and your eyes opened an hour later than the time you set for your alarm because of the fucking snooze button. Seriously, why were snooze buttons even invented? They just allowed people to sleep through their alarms continuously.

Hand reaching for the phone on your nightstand, you knocked over a booklet that was over it. It was the script you spent hours reading to grab a sense of the character you were going to portray. Obviously, you already knew the basics about the part you were going to play, but knowing the entire story helped in portraying your character.

Your eyes squinted at the bright light of your phone that had the numbers 8:33 glaring at you, unlocking it to see a couple of texts and missed calls from your manager.

‘Are you awake yet?’

‘Please don’t tell me you forgot about the script reading today’

‘Ok I know you’re still asleep but just make sure you get ready on time, being late won’t do you and your image any favors’

‘I’ll pick you up at 9’

You rolled your eyes at his messages. You loved Hoseok and he was the best manager you could have been given from your agency, but he nagged too much. He was also your friend and his endless nags made you want to rip your eyeballs out sometimes because even when you’re supposed to unwind with him, he never forgets to remind you of your job.

‘I’m the fucking lead, Hobi, they’ll wait for me’

You slapped your phone back onto the nightstand and started going about with your morning routine. You didn’t have a lot of time, and even though you knew they would definitely wait for you, you hated being that bitch who made people wait so you took a quick shower and slapped on some sunscreen, powder, and finishing off with your go-to lipstick. You didn’t bother with makeup and dressing up. This was just going to be a script reading and sure, there were going to be photos taken but the thousands of dollars you’ve spent on facials and treatments already made sure your face was at least flawless despite the lack of effort.

Bringing only your phone, wallet and script, you exited your building and as usual, a shiny black van already awaited outside. Hoseok was leaning on it, scrolling through his phone when he sensed your presence and looked up.

“Oh, thank god you’re on time.” He exhaled in relief, pocketing his phone.

“I value sleep but you’re well aware I also value my career.”

Hoseok grinned. “Now there’s the y/n I know.” He then slid the van door open and you entered without another word.

The drive was pretty much uneventful, with you scrolling through your social media, seeing what fans have been tweeting about recently and with Hoseok humming along to the random pop music playing.

You longed for a distraction, something much more interesting than working your thumb throughout the drive because of the chasm that you were about to jump into when you arrived on set. You weren’t stupid enough to forget about the man who got the role of your romantic interest in the film. But you were wise enough to not let it haunt you for the past weeks. Now though, you can’t really avoid it anymore since you were supposed to be seeing him in person again after almost 2 years. You didn’t exactly leave on the best terms with Jungkook but who knows, maybe you’ll be able to act civil around each other.

At least you were sure you were going to act civil around him, already decided on taking the higher path. You’re not so sure about him, but fingers crossed he’ll at least be an adult about the situation and pretend he can stand being in the same room as you.

Soon enough, you were entering the room the script reading was to be held in. Bowing and greeting the actors and staff seated around the table as you passed by to get to the last vacant seat. You caught Jungkook’s eyes following your movements as you sat down. Luckily, he was seated across from you and it was easier to ignore his presence with the staff members greeting and coddling you.

As always, script reading began with actors introducing themselves and the role they’re going to play. As the female lead, you started off.

“Hello everyone. I’m y/n y/l/n and I’m going to take on the role of Yuri.” Hands clapped around you as you sat back down.

“Hello, I’m Jeon Jungkook and I’ll be playing Ryan.”

You didn’t bother clapping unlike the rest and avoided the eyes of the voice’s origin.

The script reading continued without a hitch– for the most part. The other cast members were very friendly, and laughter was exchanged during the read. The same couldn’t be said for you and Jungkook though.

When lines between your characters were exchanged, there was a weird tension in the room. It felt like everyone else were holding their breaths and waiting for either of you two explode and announce that you can’t do this film anymore. As dramatic as that would be, none of that happened. Instead, cheesy romantic lines sounded flat and bored from both you and Jungkook. The director made a tsk-ing sound whenever that happened.

“It’s always been you.” You read. The script said that Yuri and Ryan stared in adoration towards each other before Ryan uttered his next words.

“Marry me?” Jungkook asked.

You nodded your head as a wrap for the script reading. According to the script, there was supposed to be a kissing scene at the end, so you make ridiculous smooching noises. The cast burst into giggles before the director stood from his seat.

“…and that’s a wrap!” He clasped his hands together. “Hopefully when we start shooting things only look up from there.” He flitted his eyes between you and Jungkook.

Honestly, you wish that too but from yours and Jungkook’s history, you don’t really think that’s possible.

You were both professionals though and you’re sure you could at least count on him to make the on-screen romance feel real.

“I’m sorry.” Hoseok said with pity in his eyes.

“Wha- but… why?” You asked, confused with what was happening.

Your part in the new film ‘The Notebook: Remake’ has apparently been withdrawn. As one of the rising stars in Hollywood, this was a really great opportunity for you. It’s one of the most anticipated films and accepting the offer of being the female lead in the movie was a no-brainer. Anyone who refuses that role is just stupid.

But now they were apparently taking it back.

Hoseok sighed. “There were too many scandals surrounding you recently. It doesn’t matter if they’re true or not, but you’ve been seen in hotels that Jeon Jungkook has been in too, and in everyone’s eyes you’re now secretly seeing him.”

“But we’ve never even been seen together in any of those photos. Don’t people know the word fucking coincidence?” Your brows furrowed, fists clenching at your sides. “And what does this have to do with my role in the film?”

“It seems they wanted someone with a ‘cleaner image’ and someone who’ll get the film to be a hit. Apparently, the romance won't be convincing if the female lead is dating someone in real life.”

You stared at Hoseok. He stared back waiting for a lash out, an angry outburst, anything really, but you remained silent, eyes unmoving. Soon enough, the dam doors burst open and the tears suddenly came streaming down your face. Hoseok exhaled and wrapped his arms around you.

“Hobi what did I do so wrong to deserve this?” you sobbed into his chest.

“Shh, it’s not your fault they’re all dumbasses. But you know the industry, y/n. We’ll find better films for you, okay?”

“Why is Jeon Jungkook such a thorn on my side? Why is he always ruining everything for me?”

“We can’t blame him, honey. He’s probably a victim in this too because of those damn rumor outlets.” Hoseok rubbed his hands along your back.

“But I’m getting the short end of the stick! The rumor is probably just feeding his bad boy persona!”

“Life’s unfair, y/n. Surely by now you’re aware of that. Just remember, karma’s going to bite them in the ass someday, okay? For now, do you want to call it a day and go home? I’ll drive you back and I’ll just report to the agency that you’re not feeling well.”

You nod your head, too listless to bother answering with words because there was only one thing on your mind right now.

Fuck Jeon Jungkook and his good looks. He just ruined the best opportunity for you. You were going to get him back for this. Like Hoseok said, karma’s going to bite him in the ass someday. And that karma was going to be you.

You were supposed to be looking forward to filming one of your dream movies with your dream director. But all you felt was dread when you arrived on set. You promised yourself that you’d stay unaffected to Jeon Jungkook, but you couldn’t help the distaste for him to be left on your face while filming.

The scene you were shooting was when your characters first met and the first takes were a total disaster. You and Jungkook barely spared each other a glance, even when your character was supposed to be enticed by him, breaking down Yuri’s cold exterior. A break was called after the 6th take because the director was so frustrated that he looked like he was about to call the casting director and replace his two leads.

You sighed, not knowing what to do with yourself after the announcement of a break. Your feet led you to your dressing room, ready to pass out on the couch but before you could, someone barged in. Your head turned towards the door, expecting it to be your manager or the director or anyone really, just not the person who currently stood at the doorway.

“Can we talk?” Jungkook asked. Your eyes were suddenly drawn to his biceps which bulged from his shirt as he crossed his arms. The damn arms looked delicious. Too bad they belonged to someone you would never ever be attracted to.

“Sure.” You shrugged your shoulders. You were sure he came here to talk to you about filming and how to work out your indifferences and shit like that and honestly, you were so tired of hating him you’re ready to just go along with whatever. Hating someone actually takes a lot of effort, you realize.

Jungkook stepped towards you until he’s close enough that you had to tilt your head upwards to look at his eyes. His eyes locked on yours for a moment before his arms uncrossed and one of his hands landed on the wall behind you. He successfully caged you in with no way out. His lips part and your eyes are drawn to the movement, feeling his exhales on your nose. You swallowed nervously.

Good lord his breath smelled so good.

“Babe, I’m sure you’re just as thrilled as I am to be working with you again as you are with me, but let’s not mess this up okay? Let’s get this over with perfectly and quickly so we don’t have to deal with each other again after. Deal?” His eyebrows raised in question and you nodded dumbly, unable to form a coherent sentence with how close he was to you.

You felt a sudden rush of heat down there and was mentally cursing the man in front of you for how much he was affecting you. He tilted his head to the side and leaned in closer to your face as if he was about to kiss you then he suddenly stopped, his mouth forming a smirk, taunting you.

That smirk was all it took for you to snap back to reality. No, you were not going to let him take the upper hand here. A burst of confidence surged through you as you leaned closer to him too and allowed your lips to brush lightly against his cheek.

“Deal.”

You pulled away, satisfied with how his lips drooped apparently not expecting that. You looked down and there it was, the tenting of his pants that brought a coy smile to your lips. Ha, take that.

You glanced back up at him, your fingers trailing over his thighs. “Aw, didn’t realize you saw me that way Jeon.” You abruptly pulled away and walked out of the room without another word, leaving him hard and defeated.

This is the beginning of his karma, you thought as you grinned to yourself.

[lilith-of-rivia]

The Bard’s Sister 

Geralt X Reader 

Part 2 

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3

Masterlist 

Summary: Geralt of Rivia and his long time travel companion Jaskier find themselves in Jaskiers home land. A place Geralt had not only never seen nor heard of. Jaskier is ready to reunite its his family after traveling and exploring the world for 20 years. The one person he missed the most was his baby sister (Y/N). Who he hadn't seen since she was 5. The journey is long, but the pay off is grander then they would ever be able to predict. This is still part of our introduction to the main characters and their personalities in this story. Next chapter will be more about (Y/N) and Geralt. I know I am trash at summaries.

I would like to state that I do plan on adding a pregnancy in the future to this story. (I know Geralt is steril. Just bare with me and the story line I’ve created) I just wanted to let eveyone know because I would hate for someone to get attached to the character and story only to have a plot line they do not like for themselves. I know not everyone like pregnancy plot lines but I’m such a sucker for dad!Geralt.

Trigger warnings: Cursing 

Pairings: GeraltxReader JaskierxSister!reader

Word count: 6,369

(Changed from 3rd to 1st person) 

The sun was high in the sky, it was nearly two in the afternoon. The garden below the large windows of the castle was shining brightly. The birds chirping, children playing in the river that ran through the center of the city. Life was good. The sun was shining a little brighter today. It was because Jaskier was finally home. 

I hadn’t realized how much I missed him till he was back. After breakfast, we walked around the castle’s courtyard. He and Geralt introduced me to their horses. To my pleasant surprise, Roach took a particular liking to me, as did her owner. He was nothing like the rumors. There were many times that I traveled out of our borders into the western part of the continent, and every time people had nothing but cruel fowl things to say about the poor witcher. Sure he wasn't perfect, but no one was. 

“Would you like to see my studies?” I asked as we walked down the long corridors that lead to three separate staircases. I glanced between the two men that were on either side of me. 

“Your studies?” Jaskier asked looking down at me. I couldn’t help but smile. 

“I told you in my letter that I’ve been working with a man over the last couple of years. He has trained me well. But I have many books, drawings notes all sorts of stuff that I’ve written about the world outside of our home.” We approached the base of the three staircases. 

“I’ve never seen a castle so big in my life.” Geralt’s sultry voice flooded my ears once again. I couldn’t help but smile up at him. He was so polite. He never turned his nose at us. I knew he didn’t have a very positive history with others like us. Yet he sent no judgment towards myself or my parents. He just listened, followed, and learned. I had never met someone so open to the world yet so closed off that the same time, and we’ve barely even begun to get o know each other.  

“Our mines are some of the richest you’d ever see in your life. From coal to diamonds. Nearly 85% of all ores get mined and sent out to the rest of the continent.” I started walking up the staircase on the far left, the stairs led up a long corridor that was open and bright, the mountains that shielded us from the rest of the world in perfect view. Both were still by my side. I stopped at the first picture that hung on the wall. 

“That’s my great-great-grandfather, he only recently passed but he started all of this.” I looked towards Geralt. He was listing intently, his eyes on me as soon as I looked in his direction. I knew Jaskier knew our history so I wasn't too worried if he was paying attention or not. 

“He came here from Termieria with his 6 younger brothers. The mines here had been closed for many many years. The town was completely deserted. There was a serious necrophage problem that no one wanted to deal with, so they just up and left. Leaving the plentiful mines full for someone else.” 

“Necrophages?” Geralt questioned his eyebrow tiling in curiosity. 

“The people who inhabited the lands before we did, had not known of the creatures. Didn’t properly bury the dead. My grandfather wrote in his journal that when they got here the streets were lined with bodies that had been drug out of their shallow graves, crypts had been broken into. His best guess is that a flue came before the people fled, killing many in a short period.” I started walking ahead of the two men, down the hall towards my room. I pushed the door open walking in placing my books on the night table as they followed in slowly behind me. Their eyes wandered over every inch. Jaskier started wandering through the room looking at every picture on the wall. Most of them were sketches, mostly of him. Or the people he sang about in his ballads. He grabbed one off the wall and laughed softly. 

“Who is this supposed to be?” I walked over to him and laughed softly, my cheeks turning a soft shade of pink. 

“That, that uh was my first sketch of Geralt.” The sound of his name got his attention, he was trying to be polite and not snoop. Although I didn't care if he wanted to look around. He walked away from the door over to Jaskier and me. He lingered behind me, very close behind me. I could feel his body heat on my back and his warm breath on my face as he peered over my shoulder at the parchment Jaskier was holding. 

“How old were you when you did this?” Jaskier asked.

“Eighteen, maybe nineteen. It was after your first balled about your adventures with Geralt that started to spread like wildfire. I went to a tavern one night with a friend and someone was singing it. I was intrigued by the song and asked them who they sang about. I was told they didn't write the song, our very own Prince had. So I listened to them play it over and over.  I asked around the and so see if people knew what the famed witcher looked like. I got conflicting answers from nearly everyone I asked.” Geralt reached his arm over me, his hand gently brushing my arm, sending chills down my spine. His hand grasped the paper as he looked at it closely.           

“They got the hair color right. That was about all. Some people have some very wild depictions that I drew, but none in any seriousness.” The particular one they were examining was nothing like Geralt. They got everything wrong but his hair color. Many people said he was a scrawny young lad with the strength of thousands of men, making him easier to blend in with the crowds. Granted this was very early on in my brother and the Witcher’s adventures together so not many people had paid close attention to the witcher. 

“You drew what people described?” Geralt asked. 

“Yes, some people tried to pay me but I told them to give it to the needy. I traveled with Serena for a couple of weeks right after I turned nineteen, we didn't venture far past the mountains but it was enough.” I couldn't help but frown at the memories of the people in the towns scowling and sticking their noses in the air when I asked about the Witcher and my brother. 

“Can I see the other ones?” Geralt’s question took me by surprise. 

“I don’t know…” 

“Oh come on, you're very talented (Y/N), let him see them,” Jaskier said and shoved my shoulder playfully. I smiled softly at him but shook my head. 

“It is not that I’m self-conscious of my work, it’s the depictions of Geralt outside of our Kingdom, for the most part, were cruel and inaccurate beyond belief. I only drew them because I was wasting their time asking questions. I honestly don't know why I kept them.” I nervously rubbed the back of my neck, the idea of Geralt seeing those ugly, horrendous, depictions of himself made my stomach turn. He didn’t deserve the hate he received. I never understood why people despised Witchers the way they did. I only experienced it outside of our kingdom. For some reason, whether it be our pure lack of monsters or the abundance of sunshine, my people seemed happier. Less judgmental than the outside world. I was grateful to live in such a kind and caring place, but it does get rather dull after a while. 

“I’d still like to see them.” Geralt said softly as he handed the parchment back to me. I sighed slightly uncomfortable with the idea, I took the parchment and hung it back up on the wall. 

“Let’s make a deal,” I said turning to them both. 

“Oh boy.” Jaskier teased. 

“I’ll show you the drawings if you let me paint you now, so I have an accurate model. Not just words.” Geralt’s eyes looked over me, his arms crossing over his chest. A small smirk formed over his lips as he watched me intently. 

“If you want to draw me so bad, just ask dove.” The nickname nearly threw me off my feet. My heartbeat quickened at a rapid pace and I couldn't even look him in the eye. Jaskier snickered and pulled out a chair by my desk. He was enjoying this way too much. I cleared my throat swelling thickly. 

“T-that I uh..” I had never been one to not have words. According to my parents, I talked too much. Just like my brother. Yet here I was gobsmacked and wordless. I grumbled under my breath moving to the desk Jaskier was sat at and made him move. He got up and I sat down. I opened the top hatch of the desk, lifting out folders and files of archives. Some containing spells, some more drawing, history of the continent, and even monster facts that I knew I wouldn’t ever need. I placed the folders on the floor. Jaskier grabbed a few and moved to my bed plopping himself down kicking his feet up. My head snapped over to him as he put his dirty boots all over my fresh linens. 

“Jaskier. If you don't get your boots off my bed, I will castrate you.” I warned turning back around rummaging some more. I heard him kick off his shoes. Geralt chuckled behind me. 

“Fiery are we.” He teased but I ignored him. Finally, at the bottom of all my work, I found the folder. I held it up to him, not wanting to watch his face as he looked at the disgusting depictions of himself. 

“Thank you, dove.” His lip was right next to my ear. I felt frozen. 

I couldn't tell if it was genuinely just a flirt or if this was directed to me. Sure I had heard the rumors of the witcher and his many women of the night, including the sorceress Yennefer. But this seemed different. I snapped back to reality when he let out a low chuckle. I turned around and stood up, peering over his arm to see what one he was looking at. This one was particularly nasty. His eyes were slanted like snake eyes, large fangs protruded out of his mouth, and his hair was a crazy mess. His eyes were blood red, his nose crooked from supposedly being punched so many times. His face was littered with so many scars he had scale-like skin. I remembered the man who gave me that description. 

“I met this man in a tavern in Solveiga, it’s the furthest I've ever been from home.” Jaskier stood up walking over and looking at the drawing Geralt was studying carefully. I didn't know why he was spending so much time on such a cruel piece. 

“He said you came through a few winters prior, he and a bunch of the townsmen had gathered some coins so you'd get rid of a Striga. I knew was lying the moment he opened his mouth.” Geralt looked up from the payment, his eyes meeting mine.

“Why do you think he's lying?” I took the folder from him, and just as I expected the parchment below the picture he was looking at was full of my notes. Every time I traveled and spoke to people about it. My brother or his companions took incredibly detailed notes, I never wanted to forget anything. I took the parchment out before handing him the folder back. I began to read the notes:

“This man takes me for a fool. No more than some silly girl. While he sits here and tells the tale of the Wolf he seems to be forgetting the incredibly important fact about Strigas, they only hunt during a full moon. He keeps saying that the beast was hunting their people every single night, slashing children, men, women, animals, every night for months. He’s using it to fuel the people's hatred of the witcher. He’s attempting to claim that they sent for him as soon as they knew of her presence. Claiming the witcher waited nearly three months before coming to discard the beast.” I flipped the page over scanning the meticulous notes. 

“He said the beast was killed on a new moon, he said he remembers it so vividly because of the lack of moonlight while he escorted the witcher to her crypt. I may not be a witcher, but I am not stupid. The man is trying to make matters worse by lying through his crooked yellow teeth. How dare he tarnish a name for the sake of his prosperity.” Geralt chuckled at the last part making me look up at him, he had an amused smile on his face, his eyes twinkled as he looked at me. 

“Why are you laughing?” I tilted my head to the side slightly and he just shook his head, putting the folder of parchment into the desk. He knelt and began picking up the rest of the folders neatly placing them inside the desk where they came from. 

“Because you got so mad that someone lied about me, yet you at the time were not even sure I was a real thing-“ 

“Person.” I quickly corrected him. His eyes glanced at me, he didn't move his head as he continued placing my papers where they belonged. 

“What?” He asked. 

“You called yourself a thing, you're not a thing Geralt. You're a real living breathing person.” His eyes found my own again. My heart raced as he studied my eyes. I had never seen anything so beautiful. His eyes were like hot pools of gold and honey. The complexity of the colors was mesmerizing.

“And I wasn't only mad that he was lying about you, I was mad that he was lying in general. About something anyone could disprove if they just picked up a book on monsters.” I noticed the parchment with the drawing he was just looking at was on my bed. I grabbed it to put it back on the desk. Geralt's strong hand gently grasped my wrist stopping me. His other hand gently grabbed the parchment from my hand. 

“I’d like to keep this one if you don't mind.” I looked at him shocked.

“Why that one?? Of all the ones I've done you choose one of the most inaccurate and the crudest?” It made no sense to me. Why did he want that? Was it some fun game of his to think he was just some stupid monster? 

“Because it shows your talent in a way the others don't. And besides, you got my nose perfectly. No one can do that.” I sighed heavily not liking the idea of him possessing such a cured drawing that was drawn purely on lies. 

“Fine. Keep it.” He smiled vicariously. I’d let him keep every single one if he smiled like that all the time. The smile quickly vanished when Jaskier came back over with the first file he took. The one he had been studying was full of my notes on herbology and alchemy. 

“You are incredibly smart (Y/N), I felt as though I was reading Yennefer’s notes.” A huge smile spread across my face at his compliment. 

“Thank you, Jax.” Geralt was now walking around my room, hands tucked under his arms as he studied the drawing and notes hanging on the walls. Some drawings were of monsters, some of the random people I’d met on my short travels, some maps I’d drawn up so I’d remember where I wanted to go when I had the chance. 

“Your talent is very wide-ranging, little dove. I have to say I’m very impressed with your knowledge.” That blasted nickname nearly kicked me off my feet again. 

I looked out my window noticing the sun was getting lower in the sky.

“If you'd like to get new clothes I’d suggest we do it now, it’ll be dark soon and the shops close earlier in the week.” Gertrude turned to me, nodding his head. 

“Please. These pants are so tight I’m afraid I may lose my legs.” 

We walked down the street. The sun was close to setting in the sky. The cool air kissed my bare chest as we walked. It was a comfortable silence between the three of us. For the first time in my life, I felt comfortable in silence. I hated the quiet with most people, it left room for negative thoughts, negative energies. Most times when it was unbearably quiet when I was present was because I was shut down from talking by the people around me. I know they meant no harm, I knew I had a lot to handle at times. I was just lonely. Board. I only had a few true friends. Most of the people I grew up with were married and with children now. I spent a lot of time alone, I liked being alone. It gave me space to think about the world. The world outside my small one. 

We approached the seamstress, walking through the wood door. A small bell rang in as we entered. Hildi walked out from the back, a bright smile on her face. She was a sweet older woman, not much older than my mum. She had been running this shop for as long as I could remember. She was the best seamstress in the country in my opinion. 

“Princess (Y/N)!! What a lovely surprise!” She walked around the counter and hugged me softly. Her hands-on the sweater I was in. She made it for me many years back for a birthday gift. She always had the best gifts. Full of love. I did adore the woman. Her attention turned to the men next to me. Her eyes grew bigger, her hand gently coming up to her chest. 

“My gods. The rumors were true. Jaskier!! How wonderful it is to see you again!!” Her hands wrapped around my brother who hugged her back. I couldn't tell if he remembered her or if he was just being nice. As she released him she looked at Geralt who was visibly tense, scared that she may try and hug him. 

“You must be Geralt of Rivia!” He nodded. 

“Rain!! Get out here!! And bring me my Witcher’s guide!!” Geralt's eyebrows furrowed at the mention of the book. He shot me a glance and I just smiled. A few moments later Hildi’s daughter Rain appeared. She was my age. We knew each other in school. She was never nice to me. Picked on me. Would make jokes about Jaskier not being around. I never told anyone, in fear people would think I was nothing but a stuck up princess. Her presence made me uneasy. I slowly took a small step back, inching closer to my brother. Rain’s eyes landed on Geralt. I could practically see the drool pooling in her mouth. 

“Gods save me.” She moaned out. I had to fight off the urge to cringe at her outward burst. 

“The tales are true then?” She looked directly at me. 

“So maybe you weren’t lying all these years.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes. 

Hildi was very blind to her daughter's cruelness. After her husband passed away it was just her and Rain. She’d do anything for her. I understood that. She was a devoted mother and wife. I knew how heartbroken she was. She walked to Rain and took the book from her hand and grabbed a quill that had been dipped in ink. She turned to Geralt, a very soft smile on her face. 

“Would you sign this for me?” His eyes bulged out of his head. 

“Y-you want me to sight your book?” I held back a giggle at his shock. He truly wasn't used to being appreciated. 

“Yes, please. If it is not too much to ask. Your stories were what got me through my husband’s death. Had it not been for the ballads and tales of your great bravery I may have not made it through.” Geralt’s shoulders softened at her words. He nodded his head and walked over to the counter. She opened the book to the first page and he scribbled down his name before giving her a soft smile. She gently placed her hand on his arm and squeezed. 

“You are truly a great hero here Geralt. If our country had a mascot, you'd be it.” Jaskier chucked lowly at her comment making me swat the back of his he’d. He hissed in pain and looked at me. I glared at him. 

“Do not ruin this for him,” I whispered. 

Hildi turned her attention back to me and smiled. 

“What can I do for you today my dear?”

“Well as you can see, Jaskier has a sore taste in fashion and also doesn’t understand sizing. I was hoping you could fit them in some better, more comfortable garments. Maybe a set of nice clothes for my party as well?” She gleamed. She hurried around her counter, grabbing a piece of parchment and measuring tape. She came back around and wasted no time in messing the two men. I sat down at a table by the window and watched as she rummaged through somethings in the back of her store. 

“So you're like a real witcher?” Rain’s voice caught my attention. She was leaning over the counter, her dress pulled down, the cleavage of her breasts on clear display as she dumbly curled her blond hair in her fingers. 

“No. I'm a fake one.” Geralt said back unamused. 

“But like are the rumors true?” She asked leaning even further over the counter. She was trying so desperately hard to get him to look down her dress. But he was simply uninterested. I felt my heartburn with envy. I hated that it did. He wasn't mine, he was nowhere near it. But the thought of him looking at her like that made my blood boil. 

“Rumors about what?” He took a step back from the counter slowly making his way over to where Jaskier and I were. 

“Ya know. About your huge cock.” Jaskier and I both choked on our spit. My hand flew over my mouth to keep my laugh in. It was a good thing her mother’s hearing wasn't all that great. Geralt looked visibly uncomfortable. He sat down in the chair next to me, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. Jaskier and I were both trying to get ourselves under control after her question. She was completely unfazed. She thought she was hot shit. 

“Common witcher. Tear me apart. Show me the real monster you can be.” That sentence made my grip on the chair so tight I thought I could’ve broken the arm in half. I probably could have if I did not have any self-control. I’m much stronger than I look.

“Do not call him that.” I hissed. My teeth were clenched so hard I was sure I was breaking them. Her eyes flicked over to me. She looked me up and down trying to size me up. 

“Call him what? A witcher. Honey are you dumb. That’s what he is.” In a second I was inches from her face. I could feel my blood pumping thru my veins. 

“Do not ever call him a monster again.” I was a bit shocked at how mean I sounded. I had never been this angry with her before. I wanted to punch her stupid smile in more than anything. 

“(Y/N)..” I heard Jaskier’s voice behind me. He was very close to me. My hands were balled in fists at my sides. My knuckles were turning white with how angry I was. 

“I promise you, studying princess, he's been called worse.” She smiled cheekily at me and her hand came up and she attempted to pat my face like I was a dog. My reflexes were much faster than she realizes. I grabbed ahold of her wrist in an intron grip. I began to squeeze and bend her wrist back away from my face. Her face contorted in pain. She wasn't expecting me to be as strong as I was. 

“I said-'' I squeezed harder, and she gasped slightly as she tried to pull her hand away. “Do not call him that.” I threw her hand away from me before turning around and walking by the window. I hadn't realized both Jaskier and Geralt were standing behind me. 

Moments later Hildi came out completely oblivious to the scene that just took place. She had a cloth sack filled with clothes and placed them on the counter. 

“Alright, dearly that’ll be 45 coins.” She said as she wrote down the total in her book. I stood quickly pulling the amount from my coin purse and putting it in her hand. I smiled at her as best I could, Jaskier grabbed the bag of clothes. 

“If something doesn’t go right, bring them back.” 

“Thank you Hildi, very much.” Geralt said a charming smile on his lip. He gently shook her hand kissing the top of it. 

“Thank you, Geralt. It was a pleasure meeting you. Don’t be a stranger.” She patted his cheek as a mum does. I turned on my heels and walked out of the shop. The cold air hit my hot face. My blood pumped slow and hard through my veins as the anger disappeared from my body. Jaskier came out of the shop and threw his arm over my shoulders leaning into me. 

“Thank you.” He whispered lowly, Great not being very far behind us as we walked to the castle. 

“For?” 

“Defending him. Many people don’t realize how much he’s heard throughout his lifetime. I’m glad I’m not the only one who wants to help.” I turned to him and smiled. I leaned into his side hugging him gently before, turning around walking backward as I looked at Geralt. 

“If you would like, I’ll show you both to your rooms, and you can change. We can then have tea in the garden and I can draw you.” A soft smile graced his lips, his eyebrow rising softly. 

“You seriously want to draw me?” I nodded my head and stopped walking, but he didn’t. He kept getting closer and closer till he was a few inches from me. 

“Yes, Geralt I do. You have a special spot in my heart, not just because I believe you are a true knight. And many people are just too scared to admit that, but also for keeping my brother safe all these years. You deserve to feel appreciated.” His features softened as his eyes searched my face before settling on my own eyes. His hand gently came up and he moved a small piece of hair from my face. 

“A deal is a deal, little dove.” I felt as though my soul was being sucked out through his hand. Every fiber in my body wanted to pull him closer to me, to show him love, and tenderness. Something I knew he never actually had. 

“Good, follow me,” I said with a smile.

After I showed them to their rooms; my brother’s old room not far from my own, and Geralt’s which shared a wall with my room, I went down to the garden. My easel, charcoals, and paints were set up on the table as they came down from changing and freshening up. Geralt looked more beautiful in clothes he could breathe in. his attire was so simple yet he made it look like the finest silks and jewels. It was a soft cotton button-down, it was loos on him, his pants were tight, but in a way that allowed him to move and feel free. I could tell by the way he walked he felt much more comfortable and in his element.   

“You look like you feel better,” I said with a smile. Even Jaskier changed. A white shirt. And some black pants. He looked as he always did when I was a kid. The obscene choices in fashion were only adopted after he left home. 

“I do.” I plainly said, a small smile on his lips. He and Jaskier sat down and I poured them tea. They both snacked on a few fruit tarts while I began sketching the background of the garden. allowing them to eat and not have to sit still just yet. 

“So...while I draw maybe you could both share a story?” I glanced behind my paper and looked at the two. Jaskier smiled and leaned back into his chair fixing his hair and popping open a few buttons for the portrait. 

“What story do you want to hear?” Geralt asked. Leaning back, his shoulders relaxing, a small piece of hair fell from the bit that he had tied back. It looked deliciously messy. It made him look disheveled, nearly like he was right out of bed. 

“Wait!” I yelled and grabbed his hand gently, pulling his hand back softly. 

“I like it. Keep it.” his hand went back down to his leg to rest. His eyes watched me for a few minutes. I studied their faces beginning my base sketches. 

“What story shall we tell her Geralt?” Jaskier asked as he closed his eyes and tilted his head back to the sky, the last of the light kissing his skin. 

“We could tell her about the Djinn?” Geralt said back, glancing at Jaskier before looking back at me, a coy smile on his face. 

“A Djinn?? I’ve only ever read myths about them. You encountered one?” My curiosity was blossoming, the urge to get more details about the creatures I had been taught about.

“Geralt here was going onto day gods knows what on no sleep. He was beyond grumpy.” Jaskier tilted his head back up and looked at me with a smirk. 

“The git said my singing was like a pie with no filling!!” I couldn’t hold back my laugh. It was much louder than I wanted, not very ladylike at all. 

“Oh… I may have to steal that one.” I said in between giggles, whipping my eyes. 

“I was hoping to use a wish from the Djinn to help me sleep. But unfortunately, your brother got in the way.” As Geralt spoke I moved into his details on his face, my eyes traveling all over his beautiful face. From the way, his brows arched to the cute little dimple on his chin. His face was beautiful. Some scares were prominent enough that I could see them if I looked hard enough he had one on his cheek, it looked newer than all the others, the skin being a bit lighter than the rest of his skin. 

“What did he do this time?”

“He decided that because I told him I no longer appreciated his singing that he would take the Djinn away from me till I took back what I said.”

“And let me guess, you didn’t take it back?” I glanced at him from behind my easel, he was watching me closely, his eyes slanted like he was studying a pray. 

“No. No, he didn’t. And I almost died!” Jaskier shouted dramatically causing my eyes to drift from Geralt over to him. 

“Don’t be dramatic Jaskier,” I mumbled, putting down the charcoal I had been using. Now turning my attention to the paints I had in front of me. I started mixing the colors Id need for Geralt’s skin tone. 

“No, this time he’s right. He did almost die. Unfortunately for Jaskier, he refused to let go of the vase the Djinn was in. While we tugged on it, the lid came off. Maybe the Djinn knew I was a witcher and its curse wouldn’t work on me, or maybe it was just annoyed at Jaskier. Either way, it attacked him.” My eyes were focused on the painting, brows furrowed as he spoke. I waited a moment for him to continue but he didn’t. 

“I’m listing Geralt, please continue,” I said my eyes moving to his, the colores pooling in my head as I prepared for what pigments id be using to paint them. 

“I don’t want to interrupt.” I shook my head a soft smile on my face. 

“I will,” Jaskier said as he sipped his tea, looking at me. 

“The Djinn attacked my throat. Made it swell, I was coughing up blood.” My painting stopped as I looked at him. My stomach sank a little as he spoke. I knew Jaskier had been put in harm’s way before but hearing the first-hand accounts made my stomach ache. 

“Geralt took me to an elven healer that wasn’t too far from where the river bed was. Unfortunately for me, he couldn’t help me. But he knew of a mage that could help.” My hand started to paint again, filling in the sketch with colors on Jaskier’s face as he spoke. 

“We can skip over those details Jaskier.” Geralt huffed crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Why? Don’t want my baby sister knowing that we had to sit threw an entier orgey just for you to speak to the mage?” Jaskier snickered looking away from me to his friend, 

“Jaskier, shut up.” Geralt grumbled. His eyes avoided my own when I went to look at him. 

“An orgey?” I had heard the word but hadn’t ever fully understood what it was. 

“What’s that?” I questioned looking at my brother. His head fell back as he cackled. 

“Oh dear sister how you’ve been so sheltered from the world.” My cheeks flushed red at his words. 

“Jaskier don’t be rude,” I mumbled grabbing a fine liner brush from my pile. Adding some final detail into Jaskier’s blue eyes. 

“It’s when a very large group of people get together in one room and have sex.” The blood rushed to my head at his words. I could feel my ears turning red. My brother was right. I had been sheltered about sex in my family. I didn’t have friends who I could talk to it about, and never really had anyone in my life I was willing to have sex with. 

Unlike many women my age I never viewed my virginity like a sacred rose that no one could touch, I just wanted it to be lost to someone who deserved it. No someone I was forced to allow to deserve it. 

“Oh look at how red she is.” Jaskier snickered standing up and poking my sides. I smacked his hands away glaring at him. He was now able to see the nearly completed painting. All I had left was my Geralt’s eyes and some details in his hair. 

“Gods (Y/N), this is amazing.” He whispered his hand on my shoulder. I smiled softly, swallowing the spit that had gathered in my throat thickly. 

“Thank you, please sit down and continue your story.” Jaskier did as I asked. 

“The mage was Yennefer. She helped me. Saved my life. The mage and I may not get along, but I do owe her my life.” I smiled softly as he spoke of the mage I had heard so much about. 

“I’ll be sure to thank her myself if I ever come across her,” I said with a smile. My attention turned back to Geralt who didn’t look please at the topic of our conversation. His eyes were on his leg that bounced slightly. He was anxious. 

“Geralt love, I cannot see your eyes. That’s nearly all I have left.” At the sound of my voice, his head tilted up so he could look at me in the eye. 

I smiled sweetly at him. I broke eye contact as I added in the different hues of orange and a bit of red. Some gold flecks showed themselves in his inner iris. The depth of the color was so enchanting. I could paint just his eyes forever. I finished with his hair after a few minutes of silence. Both men just enjoying the warm afternoon air. They both looked relaxed, peaceful, safe even.    

“I’ve finished, boys,” I said whipping my hands on my apron. I stood up and turned the easel around to the two. They both sat up straight, eyes wandering all over the painting. 

“You, my dear sister are beyond talented.” Jaskier mused looking at me, a bright smile on his face. 

“We both are.” I smiled at him. Geralt was still examining the painting, his eyes flicking over every inch of himself. I couldn’t tell if he was pleased or not. It made me nervous.

“I know the hair isn’t perfect. I’m still trying to get the brush technique down-”

“It is perfect.” Geralt interrupted me, a smile on his face as he looked at me. 

I smiled back at him, my heart beating a little quicker. 

“Can I keep it?” Geralt asked. 

“Seriously?” I asked him. 

“Well, actually it’s probably best you keep it. I don’t have a home, so I wouldn’t want to ruin it…” I smiled softly, taking a step closer to him. 

“I’ll keep it safe but if you ever have a place that you want to keep it, ill get it to you,” I said, softly stroking the stray strand of hair behind his ear. His face tilted up as he looked at me. 

“I think I’m going to turn in for the night boys,” I said gathering my items in my hands. 

“What about dinner?” Jaskier asked. 

“I’ll grab something from the kitchen, I’m quite tired. I need a bath. I’ll see you both in the morning.” I said hugging Jaskier goodnight. I turned to Geralt, courage surging through my veins. I bent down and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. 

“Goodnight Geralt.” His cheeks turned a very, very soft shade of pink, but only for a moment. Our eyes locked again. 

“Good night, dove.”  

[kpopluvrsblog]

I got you princess

Requested: may i please request for a jealous bsf mark where he sees y/n getting wasted in the club (because she saw mark getting close with the popular girl) and she's with yeonjun so he drags her out and they fight but end up confessing to each other.. i hope that isn't confusing haha thanks !

Genre: angst + fluff, smut!

Pairing: mark x fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT! Dom!mark x sub!fem!reader, unprotected sex ( uak the drill ), reader goes somewhat into subspace at the end, creampie , kind of rough sex, slight masturbation suggestive dancing, swearing, use of the word slut

A/n: this is so long,,, SORRY I ADDED SMUT i cant help myself when it comes to mark... if anyone doesn’t want to read that part it is at the end!!

You slam your locker shut, sighing loudly as “those two” pass by murmuring amongst themselves. By “those two” you mean mark and little miss popular. It’s not that you were popular but of course everyone loves miss perfect aka Jen and they can’t see through her facade. “Me and mark used to be like that..” you whispered to yourself.

“HEY Y/N” someome suddenly screamed in your ear. “YEONJUN!! oh my,,, you scared me!” You whined and smacked his arm lightly, making him chuckle to himself. “ Mmm sooo how’s your little crush on mark going? He seems to be all over jen today...” yeonjun asked with a face of concern.

“ oh a little?” Your eyebrows shot up with sarcasm. “Honestly, its... ever since they’ve gotten closer, she’s got him wrapped around her finger. Its as if me and mark had never been friends.” You look off to the side and scoffed at how whiny you sounded.

“No no no y/n... thats it!! I am not letting you sulk over this loser. He doesn’t understand anything.” He rolled his eyes before continuing “ we need to go out!!” He said happily. “ go where exactly?” You questioned as you grabbed his hand and started to walk to the exit of the school. “ go clubbing!!” Yeonjun said excitedly.

‘Clubbing huh... that doesn’t sound too bad!’ You thought in your head. “ alright clubbing it is!!”

That leads to where you are now. Looking at yourself in the mirror, wearing a burgundy fitting dress which made all of your curves stand out and matched it with burgundy heels as well. You have done light makeup with a black winged liner and added diamond jewelry pieces.

“DAMN y/n... baby you look GREAT!! wow you look so good i-“ yeonjun cut himself off when he reached up to his mouth and wiped off his drool, his actions making you laugh. “Stop!! Lets just go!” You said while laughing. You noticed his attire matches yours. He was wearing a burgundy suit as well which complimented him so well. “You look really good too though...” you smiled brightly at him as he grabbed your hand, thanking you with a blush on his face and brought you to his car.

The drive to the club was around 30 minutes. Yeonjun had found a club or as he called it “ the best club you’ll ever go to” and insisted that you both go there for the night. He said he wouldn’t drink so he could be your DD ( designated driver).

——————————————————————————

Your mouth dropped open when he pulled into the private parking lot for the club. “Yeonjun this is..” you trailed off in awe. “Amazing. I know.” He finished the sentence for you. “alright, in we go!!” He jumped excitedly.

As you walked to the large glass double doors. The bright lights and blaring music became clearer. You could see the many people that were occupied inside. Yeonjun said something to the security man standing outside, which u didn’t understand since you were too busy admiring the place, but before you knew it he was leading you inside.

“ALRIGHT, drinks first baby we gotta get you to loosen up before we get started.” He shouted over the music and the yells of the other people as he brought you to the bar. When he talked to the barista you started to scan the crowd of unfamiliar faces, smiling at the sight of everyone having fun. Suddenly you furrowed your eyebrows... ‘was that mark?? What was he doing here... wait, jen is... dancing on him.. woah, okay.’ Your thoughts ended as yeonjun poked your side and handed the shot glass to you “ thanks” you smiled at him and chugged the drink, feeling the hot liquid slide down your throat, leaving a slight burn.

“Agh” you winced at the flavor causing yeonjun to chuckle. “Its good huh?” He smirked. You turned back to the barista, “excuse me!! Can you give me the strongest shot you got?!” You questioned with a smirk. “Challenge accepted” the barista laughed and went to mix you up a drink. If mark can have fun why can’t you?? It’s time to get over him.. he’s obviously taken. “Is that mark here??! What the fuck man!!” Yeonjun shouted with a look of pure disgust when he saw who was attached to him.

“Y/n lets go! We’re going to go dance and show him what he’s missing!!” He looked back over to you just in time to see you take the mystery shot. “Damn that shits strong” you croaked and laughed when you saw yeonjun smiling at you.

He pulled your hand through the crowd of bodies and brought you to an open spot. Already feeling the alcohol take its place you started to dance with yeonjun wrapping your hands around his neck as he placed his hands on your hips. You smiled up at him and turned around in his grip, bending fowards slightly, now grinding your ass up against his bulge with his hands still groping your hips as he grinds into you.

You stood back up, still moving your hips and reached your arms over your shoulders to hold onto the back of his neck lightly. You looked up and met a gaze of who you completely forgot about. Jen was no where to be seen and mark was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, biting his lip harshly and glaring at the man groping you. Yeonjun leaned down slightly to press a light kiss to your neck and thats when mark broke.

One second you were dancing with jun and the next someone was leading you to a secluded place of this club. “WHAT the fuck are you doing mark!!! Let me go!!” You shouted as he pulled you into one of the empty backrooms. “Shut up.” Is all he said while he went to block you from leaving the room. “Shut up?!! What do you mean shut up!! Ive been shutting up since you decided to ignore me for the schools slut!!” You shouted at him trying to push him out of your way.

“HEY!! She is not a slut first of all-“ you cut him off with a slap to his face making him stare at you in shock. “Not a slut?? Mark where do you think she ran off to huh?! You think you were the only guy shes been talking too?! What a dumbass... im leaving now.” You declared waiting for him to move out of your way.

“Y/n... listen-” Mark started. “No!! I don’t want some pity apology to leave your mouth! I want to leave and never see you again.” You stated with your arms crossed until mark suddenly pulled you into his chest, arms wrapped tightly around you, as if he let go it would cause you to disappear. “ what the- Let me go!!” You mumbled into his suit.

You heard him sniffle and now realized that he was crying... a lot. Even though he is a dumbass you can’t help your feelings for him. “Listen y/n... im so so sorry that i pushed you away. I just- oh my gosh. I love you y/n... so very much that I unintentionally pushed you away and when i noticed how close you were to yeonjun, i thought that i could never treat you like how he does, i could never make you happy and i KNEW THAT. When jen started to pay attention to me, i thought i could take my mind off of you and that you would have a better life without me in it. I know how she is y/n... but my jealousy got the better of me. The reason why she left just now is because I wasn’t paying attention to her. How could i when you were standing so beautifully in front of me... and thats when i noticed that i couldn’t get over you, especially with yeonjun touching all over you when that could’ve been me if i tried and i- hmmph“

He was talking too much... his words making tears rolls down your face, soaking up into his suit. You leaned up to press your lips tightly against his. His body stiffened when your lips touched his... they were so soft. He quickly loosened up and hugged you tighter, his lips now moving with yours as you continued to make out. After a few minutes you pulled apart, a string connected between you both, chests heaving. You knew you looked like a mess but mark still looked down at you with so much love.

“First of all your still a dumbass...” you whispered, causing mark to giggle. “ I’ve never stopped loving you, me and yeonjun are just friends and he knows about my crush on you. But when you started ignoring me.. wow it hurt so bad and it pains me to admit that. I was so jealous that I couldn’t be with you-“ mark cut you off with another peck. “Mark let me finish!!” You blushed trying to pry him off of you.

“No i already know where this is going... im sorry for being a fucking idiot but i really do love you and i hope you can forgive me.” He said while letting a few more tears out.

“Okay no more crying!! Of course i forgive you and I obviously still love you too... you’re lucky you only ignored me for around a month though...” you trailed off into a fit of giggles. “Lets leave this place y/n, ill tell yeonjun whats going on and ill take you to my place to get you cleaned up okay??” Mark said while caressing your hair lovingly. “Mhm lets go!”

——————————————————————————

《smut starts》

After some time, you and mark had finally arrived at his house. “Ahhh okay here we are.” He sighed when he pulled into his driveway. “ okay lets get you cleaned up hmm?” He questioned when you both entered his house. Too tired to answer you hummed an answer back hoping he would understand, of course he did. Having already been here many times before, you remember where everything is which made it easier to navigate through his home. “Lets take off these shoes first, i bet your feet hurt so bad right now.” He pouted and sat you down on his couch, leaning down to take off each heel and lightly massaging your sore feet. “ it’s alright you can close your eyes baby ill take care of you.” Mark then leaned up to peck your lips one last time to hear you mumble “ thanks baby i lovveee you hmm” you then closed your eyes and felt him pick you up, bridal style and bring you into his bathroom. He took off your jewelry and placed them safely in the cabinet. He then proceeded to remove any excess of makeup that you had left on your face.

He was debating whether or not he should bathe you, as you probably feel gross. Since you had not fallen asleep yet, you decided that you wanted to be clean. “Baby you can bathe me its okay. I trust you.” You said softly, making mark smile at your cuteness. “Alright, im going to undress you now, lift your arms up for me.” You did as you were told, he took the snug dress off of your body, leaving you in your matching lace bra and panties... he couldnt help but get turned on. He thought your body was outstanding. Mark shook his head lightly trying to get out of his thoughts, you, now with your eyes open, noticed his actions and smirked. “Whatcha looking at?” You questioned innocently while looking down at your body.

“I uh- uhm oh yeah ill start the bath” he blushed and moved to the tub, now filling it up with hot water. The alcohol had mostly wore off now, since you hadn’t drank a lot. You started to unclip your bra and pull off your panties. “Mark can you help me in the tub please” you asked. You both knew you were capable of getting in yourself but nonetheless he grabbed your hips and set you softly into the tub.

“Dont you want to get clean too?” You asked and pulled lightly on the bottom of his tie. He smirked at your request and pecked your cheek. “Let me go get clothes for us to change into and ill be right back.” When he walked out you couldn’t help but notice his hard on. God he was so hot.

You knew you had some time. Whats the harm in just touching yourself a little? You fingers slowly trailed down to your clit and you slowly rubbed circles on the sensitive nub, letting your head fall back and small moans pour out from your mouth. “Having fun without me?” Mark asked with his clothes off and standing in the doorway, his hard dick on display. Where did this Confidence come from? He came up to the tub and lifted you out now patting you dry and emptying the tub.

“Do you really want this?” He looked you in the eyes as he asked this. “Yes i really want this please” you answered and bit your lip. “We’ll bathe after this then okay?” He didnt give you time to answer as he picked you up and brought you out of the bathroom straight into his room. He placed you gently on top of his bed sheets, luckily there was a thick blanket on top that he had layed out, so now the sheets won’t be dirty.

You pulled him on top of you and trapped him between your legs as you made out with him, lightly sucking and pulling on his lips, with your hand running through his soft disheveled hair. He groaned into your mouth as the tip of his dick brushed against your slick entrance. “Just put it in im wet enough and i really need you i cant wait please please please- OH” you moaned aloud as he followed your requests. His thick dick now stretching out your tiny pussy. 

“Fuck baby your so tight for me, damn you feel so good. Does it feel good for you baby?” He whimpered into the crook of your neck as he pushed your thighs apart farther, his hips now pressed tightly against yours. “It- um.. mmh” you already couldn’t form a sentence...

He chuckled and put his hand under your head, now holding you even closer. “Fuck.. m- mm move please” you whimpered. You were so sensitive and felt so full with him pressing against your cervix. He slowly pulled out and pushed back in, which made you gasp and clench even more, making it hard for him to move. “Loosen up for me hm? Let me fuck you properly. Show you how its done baby” you followed his orders and let him keep hitting that spongy spot deep inside of you. “A- ah keep going” you let out gasps and moans as he was now pounding into you. Mark was breathing heavily as he sucked marks onto your pretty delicate skin.

He snaked a hand down to rub on the nub you were playing with earlier. “Feel good?” He questioned and got a moan in response. He knew you were close by how you started to clench uncontrollably. “Im gonna cum shit im going to-“ you stopped your rant when he went even harder than before, you could feel him in your stomach. “I know baby. Cum. Cum all over me and make a mess. I got you.”

“FU-“ your orgasm was so hard that you went silent as your eyes rolled back, nails leaving streaks on his back. “Fuck y/n im cumming” he came inside of you with long hot ropes shooting into the deepest parts of your body, filling you up to the brim with warmth. You both came down together... only mark came down actually. “You’re okay princess. You did so good. Come back down to me, im waiting” mark whispered to you as he pulled out of you slowly, watching a white mess come gushing out of you. “Mmhm i did good?” You asked with a whimper while holding onto your stomach, feeling full. “Yes princess, so so good for me. Im going to bathe you and change you now okay? You can sleep, i know you’re tired.” After hearing his words you fell into a deep sleep knowing that he would take care of you.

——————————————————————————

You woke up with the feeling of being wrapped in warmth. You groaned as you turned around in marks hold, now facing his angelic sleeping face...’ he looks so at peace’ you thought. You also noticed that he dressed you in an oversized sweatshirt of his and gave you a pair of his boxers to wear. He really did clean and take care of you last night huh...his grip tightened around you and you left a soft kiss to his lips as you fell back into your slumber with a smile, knowing that you were definitely going to spend your life with this man.

[imaginethatneathuh]

Silence: Elijah Mikaelson - TVD/TO (Request)

Elijah Mikaelson x partner!reader, romantic

Elijah is upset with you for drinking so much and the two of you fight.

Request from Wattpad.

TW/CW: Drinking, controlling partner, fear, might be something else I've forgotten.

Word count: 2.4+ K

Completely unedited.

•

Swaying to the music and feeling the hot bodies around you, you smiled. The Mystic Grille back home was great and all, but places like this, places no one cares about who you are and you can let loose, are the absolute best. Though that may be the alcohol talking.

You had five, maybe six, shots. Plus, of course, a fuck ton of beers prior to said shots.

Despite Elijah’s warning, one you didn’t really care to listen to, you had gone out.

Kol, of course, came along for the ride. After all, if his brothers wouldn’t let him have any real fun, then he’d tag along with you and find some trouble of his own.

A pair of hands rested on your sides.

The contact of someone you knew wasn’t your partner caused you to turn around in fear.

Kol stood there, smirking.

“Don’t worry, it’s just me, love,” he said, shouting over the music.

Realizing it was him, you relaxed and smiled.

“I wanna do more shots,” you said, bouncing around.

Kol laughed. “You keep this up, I might not be able to get you home without Elijah knowing.”

“Shots, Kol, shots,” you said, dragging him to the bar. “We are doing them.”

Kol allowed you to pull him along, smiling. “God, Elijah is going to kill me in the morning.”

“What?” You asked, not hearing him.

The bartender smiled politely at someone and handed them a martini.

The bright lights of the club’s neon lined bar reflected off Kol’s pale skin, making you giggle slightly.

The bartender smiled, placing their hands on the edge of the bar.

“What can I do for you?” They asked.

“Shots!” You shouted, continuing to bounce.

Kol nodded, giving the bartender a polite smile.

“Water them down a bit, will ya?” He asked, leaning over the bar slightly.

The bartender looked at you then back at him before nodding.

“Gotcha,” they said.

•

Kol, with one arm wrapped around your waist and the other holding your arm over his shoulder, made his way to the front door of your place.

“Come on,” Kol said. “We’re almost there.”

You laughed.

“Almost pear,” you said, still laughing.

Kol smiled a little, shaking his head.

As the two of you reached the door, Kol tried to grab your keys from your pocket but failed. You moved away from him, giggling.

“Y/N,” he said. “Let me get the keys.”

He tried getting them again but you moved away, landing against the wall and falling, all while giggling.

“Nuh-uh,” you said, smiling at him in your drunken state.

Kol sighed and tiredly smiled at you. He picked up the keys that had fallen out when he fell.

“Come on, love.” He reached for you but you crawled away on all fours. “Y/N, you need to go to bed. Elijah --”

“He is not my daddy,” you said, crossing your arms and pouting.

The drizzle from earlier made its home on your trousers.

Kol glared at your childish actions. But he couldn’t really fault you for that. He would have acted the same way and besides, you were drunk. Most people do and/or say stupid shit like that. It wasn’t surprising, really.

While talking, neither noticed Elijah as he walked over.

“Am I not?” He asked, causing Kol to whip around.

Eyes wide, Kol’s mouth opened to say something but Elijah held up his hand.

“You can go,” Elijah said, his gaze only leaving you for a split second to look at his brother.

Kol shrugged and tossed him the keys.

Elijah caught them with one hand.

Instead of walking over and helping you up, he walked to the door. He didn’t even bother to say anything as he did so.

“Elijah,” you called.

He ignored you.

“Eeeliijaah,” you called again.

He kept ignoring you as he unlocked it.

Pouting, you got up but stumbled. You couldn’t help but laugh a little as you fell. The ground wouldn’t be so bad to sleep on. Sure, you’d be wet in the morning, but you’ve done it before.

Elijah stood at the, now open, door.

Of course, he wanted to go back and pick your drunk-self up. He was your partner and did love you very much. Even if you had directly and purposefully disobeyed him.

After fighting with himself for a good minute, he went back and picked you up. But, using his vampire-speed, the two of you went inside and he tossed you on the sofa.

You sunk into the soft, blanket covered sofa, grinning. Though the ground and grass of your front lawn was fine to sleep on, a sofa was definitely better. Not as good as your bed, but beggars can’t be choosers.

“I knew you loved me,” you mumbled, pulling one of the throw pillows into your grip and quickly falling asleep.

•

At the Mikealson’s place, you relaxed in one of the sofas, hiding your face from the sunlight. As much as you enjoyed the relative silence of the house, you hated how open the rooms with sofas were. But, it wasn’t that bad.

There was this crushing force being applied to your skull from pretty much all angles. Since you got onto the soft, warm, comforting sofa, you hadn’t left. Every time you moved, the ground under you felt like it was swaying and you wanted to puke. The mere mention of eating also had a similar effect. The feelings were slowly diminished, but not as much as you wished they had.

Elijah, your current partner and favourite person, walked into the area of the house you were desperately trying to sleep in. He said nothing as he poured a glass of alcohol.

The mere sound of it made you cringe.

You pulled the blankets tighter around your body. “Do you wanna join me? I could use some cuddles.”

He didn’t say a word.

“Elijah?” After realizing he wasn’t going to respond, your shoulders slumped. “Is this because I got drunk?”

His silence spoke volumes as to what he was getting at.

“You’re really going to give me the silent treatment because I wanted to have some fun?”

He sipped the dark liquor from his glass, turned away from you.

“Okay, fine. Two can play at that game.” You fell back into the sofa and buried yourself.

If he was going to ignore you, you would ignore him, too.

•

Several weeks passed by and he still hadn’t talked to you. It was really starting to get under your skin, but Elijah seemed cool as a cucumber. As always.

Happily, you threw your arms around Kol’s neck. He was sitting on the sofa, making it that much easier.

“I’m bored,” you said, pouting.

He flipped the page of his book. “Your point?”

Straightening, you smiled. “Let’s go to a club or something! I want to party.” You mimed dancing, tossing your hands into the air like you just don’t care.

Kol laughed and set his book down. ‘You sure? Elijah still hasn’t talked to you since last time and that was weeks ago.”

You nodded, still dancing to nothing.

“Fine, but he gets pissed again, don’t go blaming me,” he said as he got up.

•

The pulsing music felt good as you swayed to it like there was no one else there. It felt good in your soul. The three or four drinks you’d had definitely helped loosen you up. They let you move to the music in a way you usually wouldn’t which is just what you needed.

Kol, instead of dancing with you, sat at your table and watched, drinking and smiling. A few girls had taken peaks at him. When he looked over at them and smirked, they giggled and looked away. The Original had that effect on people, especially girls.

Someone comes up from behind and starts dancing with you, getting a little too touchy for your liking.

You turnt to Kol, giving him a look that said “help”.

He nodded and stood, leaving his empty glass on the table.

Before Kol could reach you, someone else pulled the stranger away.

“What the fuck, dude?” The rando asked.

Elijah cooley glared at them before turning to you. “We’re leaving.”

“Oh, no, fuck that, you can’t make me do shite,” you said, crossing your arms. “I’m having a good time and I ain’t about to let you ruin that.”

The two of you glared at each other for a while before Elijah grabs you and drags you away.

“Elijah!” You yelp as he pulls you along, his strength far exceeding your own.

Kol hoped that the two of you would actually talk about Elijah’s overprotectiveness so the hostility between the two of you would go the fuck away and he wouldn’t be stuck between you two anymore.

•

The bouncer for the club watched as Elijah dragged you away but said nothing. Still, he watched on with narrow eyes.

You turnt back and waved goodbye with a smile. It was your way of letting him know you were fine.

He nodded to you, a polite smile on his face.

Elijah dragged you along to his car, opening a door for you.

“I’m not getting in,” you said.

Elijah sighed. “I do not wish to compel you, my love, but I will if I must.”

The defiance you tried to keep up faded as you got into the passenger seat of the black sedan.

•

Elijah sipped on a glass of whiskey, sitting on the sofa in the living room. His suit jacket lay over the arm and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows.

When he had found you gone, he wasn’t surprised but still the anxiety of your disappearance had made him feel like puking.

Despite his rather cold actions toward you lately, he loved you more than he had loved anyone else in his life. He’d said it before about other lovers in the past, and he had loved them greatly at the time, just as he did with you now. But now is slightly different to back then. Now, there were other monsters he had to fear, ones that could find him and, more importantly, his family much easier than before. That family now included you and you had no way to protect yourself from the horrors his family had to face.

He mentally slapped himself for even considering being with a human.

With all the dangers of just being around supernatural creatures like himself, being with one romantically was even more dangerous.

Elijah downed the rest of his drink and set the glass down. He leant back into the sofa, staring at the ceiling.

“So, what?” You said, walking into the room. “You can drink, but I can’t?”

Elijah sighed and closed his eyes. “I don’t feel the effects the same as you do, my love,” he said. “I’ve also had one drink over the course of several hours, not a bunch over the course of not even an hour.”

You rolled your eyes.

In a random act of defiance, and right in front of Elijah, you poured yourself a glass of whiskey. It was your way of saying “fuck you, you controlling arsehole”.

He didn’t try to stop you, not even when you downed the entire glass.

“You should eat something. There are still leftovers in the fridge,” Elijah said.

Ignoring him, you poured another drink and downed it.

“My love,” he said. “Please, eat something before you go to bed. I can make you something if you wish.”

“Fuck you.”

The vampire sighed and rubbed his face. “Why are you like this?” He mumbled.

“Why do you have to be a controlling prick?”

He looked up as you drank more from the decanter containing whiskey. His jaw tightened but he said nothing.

“What? Can’t admit it so you ignore it?” You asked. “And I thought you were the mature one of the lot.”

Elijah stood and began to leave. “I’m going to reheat some leftovers for you. It’ll be in the kitchen when you’re done.”

“Don’t.”

He looked back. “Don’t what?”

“I want answers, Mikaelson, not fucking food.” You set the decanter down with a thud.

Turning back to you, Elijah sighed. “I’m rather tired, Y/N, can we do this tomorrow?”

“No. I want answers and I want them now. You’re being a total fucking control freak and I want to know why.”

“I’m not,” he said. “I’m not trying to be.”

You crossed your arms and scoffed. “Well, you are. I’m safe with Kol. He knows how to make sure I’m okay when I drink. I don’t need you butting in.”

Elijah got closer to you. He looked down before meeting your gaze, his voice hardening. “And what if he loses track of you at a club or bar? What if you find yourself in a dark alley? What if there’s someone there? Someone we’ve-- I’ve done wrongs to? What happens then?” He asked, torturing himself with the idea.

You looked him up and down, finally understanding what was going on in his head. “This isn’t about my drinking, is it?”

Elijah shook his head.

“Doll, why didn’t you just talk to me about it?” You asked, getting closer and taking his hand. “I’d be fine with drinking at home or somewhere you believe’s safe.”

He shrugged. Elijah, ever respectful, brought your hand to his lips and kissed it.

“I hate thinking about it,” he whispered, pulling you in close. “I hate thinking about you getting hurt. When I sleep, it’s plagued by different scenarios, each one more horrific than the last. And even if I don’t, I still stay up and play and replay things that could happen to you.”

You kissed him softly on the forehead. “Elijah, you don’t have to worry about that. Not when my best friend is Kol Mikaelson and my beloved partner is Elijah fucking Mikaelson. What vampire, or witch, or werewolf, or whatever, in their right mind would try it?”

Elijah chuckled. “Not many of them are, my love.”

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll stop going out to clubs and bars and shite.”

He shook his head. “No, no. I was being too ‘over dramatic’, as Rebekah would say. Just, please, tell me and take Kol with you.” Elijah cupped your cheek and rubbed his thumb across your skin. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“I don’t want to lose you either,” you said, smiling at him.

[wesimpforxiao]

Say My Name and I’ll Be There:  7.4

Author’s Note:  I believe I’ll be doing a LIVE pulling for Xiao tonight around 7:45 PST.  Join me if you want to see me cry from happiness or from not pulling him LOL.  The link is in one of my previous posts.  Before, during, or after this chapter, listen to this song to get a feel of what’s happening!  https://youtu.be/ifQ3JRS4gqc

.....................

The voices never truly left you alone after that.  You were practically becoming unhinged by the endless whispers that plagued your ears, and the quiet of night only seemed to egg them on further.  When you were blessed with their silence, you were plagued the physical pains of the karmic debt and your depression from joining the harbingers.  Childe was obviously growing more and more concerned with each passing day; you were beginning to freak him out.  The Tsaritsa and the other harbingers, however, found great amusement in your...condition.  It was a blessing in disguise; they were manipulating you much easier now that you were exhausted from the sleepless nights.

And it wasn't like you were constantly needing medical care, though you wished they would give you some heavy pain killers.  No; whatever damage your body was burdened with would be repaired by morning thanks to Xiao's blood.  The pain wasn't nearly as dramatic as the first wave, but it was a constant dull aching that ate away at your bones.  Slowly but surely, the pains grew over time.

Xiao made his presence known to you only twice more; he showed himself in the late evenings for brief periods of time to quell your aching heart and mind.  At least when he was able to be with you, the dreadful screams would disperse if only temporarily.  At least when he was with you, you were granted sleep.  Small waves of peace would reclaim you as Xiao watched over your sleeping figure.  

But once Liyue's festivities were underway, Xiao's visits became nonexistent and your mind was once again thrown into deeper chaos while he fought off more demons.  It was the busiest time of the year for both the inhabitants and the demonic presences of Liyue; it was Xiao's task to fend the latter off since the festivities attracted their attention and strengthened their presence.  He felt you slowly shattering, and it hurt him to know he couldn't be with you as often as he wanted to.

One day out of the blue, over a month after you joined the Fatui, Childe approached you with a grand smile across his face.  "Ojou-chan!  Why don't I show you around Snezhnaya?  It's much better than sitting in your room all day."

"...Aren't you always saying we could freeze to death?"  Your unamused expression failed to hinder Childe's enthusiasm.  "Why would I want to go outside?"  The bags under your eyes spoke volumes about your continuous sleepless nights.

"Come on, Mezzetin, it'll be good for you.  You could use the exercise."

"Are you implying something?" You're eyes narrowed dangerously, but Childe's grin only widened when your normal quips shone through your broken character.

"Well, if you ever feel the need to put me in my place, I'm more than willing to oblige to a fight," he watched your expression lighten for a moment before urging you.  "Come on, I'll show you around."

Sheer cold wasn't an issue for this winter wasteland like it was on Dragonspine, but it had to be at least five times colder here.  Childe made sure you were bundled up in a large furry coat before guiding you out of the castle and leading you to a town square that was surprisingly bustling with people despite the frigid temperatures.  Stalls lined the streets.  People gathered around to buy the freshest local food that included some incredibly large seafood varieties.  Others were in line to buy trinkets, house decor, and a variety of other items.

"...A farmer's market?"  Your cold breath of a remark caught Childe's attention, and he turned to you.

"Of course!  Go ahead and look around.  If there's anything you want, I'll buy it for you."

He's trying to cheer me up?  You examined Childe's earnest demeanor as he eyed the fish stall with stars in his eyes.  Can he just pick a side already?!  You rolled your eyes.  Still, might as well bankrupt him if he insists.  You broke away from him and continued down the rows of stalls for awhile, unaware that the harbinger had rejoined you.  

You were busy examining a few intriguing necklaces made of materials you haven't heard of when the whispers of the damned regained their voices.  You staggered a bit only to be steadied by Childe's hand on your shoulder.

Childe noted your glowing eyes.  "Happening again?"  His genuine concern made you relieved that he wasn't a complete monster like the other harbingers.  "If you need a break, there's a café over there that we can sit in."  Your strained nod prompted him to guide you with a hand at the back of your shoulders.

"Hm?"  A strange sound reached your ears, and this time it wasn't from inside your head.  Your feet came to a halt before the two of you reached the building, and you tilted your head towards the sound.  

It was a light and effortless tune that floated through the open air from yet another building.  The melody was slow to build, yet you hung onto its every note.  It took you a moment to realize that it calmed the demonic voices from screams to hushed murmurs.  You followed the path of the sounds until you found yourself in an extremely outdated music shop.

"Mezzetin?"  Childe attempted to regain your attention as he followed after you.  He caught onto the childlike wonder glistening in your teary eyes.  "Care to explain?"

"The pain..." a tear fell.  "It's subsiding."  You continued to stare at the harpist that played her tune at the back of the shop, eyes never leaving the fingers that plucked the strings. The voices were gone, and now you were only overwhelmed with a sense of peace.  

Childe watched you silently listen to the music for a long while.  An idea struck him.  "Have you ever played?"

"Huh?"  You snapped out of your daze and wiped the tears away.  "Um...Granny used to play a lot when I was little.  I know a couple tunes, but--"  Childe walked to the shop owner without letting you finish, pulling out a large sack of mora while he was at it. "H-hey! What're you doing?"

"If it brings you happiness, then I don't see the problem in buying it," Childe argued back after he had purchased the most expensive harp in the shop and left a considerate tip.  The two of you were walking back to the palace now.  He had ordered for his subordinates to take the instrument back with them.

"But I haven't played in years! And I said I only knew a few simple tunes--"

"--Then I will ensure you receive lessons."  He was not going to budge on this, and he made it obvious with his firm gaze.  "The rest of the harbingers made it clear that they do not care for your wellbeing, but I do.  Think of this as a gift and a type of therapy.  You've been down ever since Xiao left you--"

"I left him," you corrected.  And I so regret my decision.

"I'm just trying to prove that you aren't in a prison anymore.  If you want to see it as that, then by all means, continue to be depressed.  But something tells me you want to see Xiao again and find a way with him, no?"

"...Right."

"Then at the very least accept my apology gift to you."

"Huh? Apology?"  You gave him a questioning look, but he either didn't hear you or elected to ignore you.

......................................

Xiao was being as antisocial as ever, but it's not like he would ever turn down an invitation for tea from Rex Lapis himself.  Here he was, sitting just outside of Wangshu Inn with his master in the bright of day.  Aether probably put the archon up to the task considering how Xiao pushed him away what felt like ages ago, but the yaksha decided to give Zhongli the time of day only because of his deep respect for his savior.

"I've also brought more pain killers," Zhongli handed the yaksha a small jar of other-worldly medicines as he continued to fill him in on the upcoming Lantern Rite.  He had yet to bring you into the conversation, most likely to avoid irritating the throbbing wound in Xiao's chest.

"Mm."  Xiao gladly accepted the medication and set it aside.  This ensured yet another lull in their conversations.

"Will you go this year?"  Zhongli sipped at his tea.  "To the Lantern Rite?"

"My presence would only hinder the festival.  Besides, I'm not great with crowds."  The yaksha had yet to meet the archon's eyes, and kept his gaze firm on the teacup in front of him.  Truth be told, he would have gone this year...with you, since it was you who had asked him.  But now that these circumstances have come to pass, why should he go?  "It's just another excuse for humans to discard their trash into the ocean."  Why should he go when it would only remind him of his failure to keep you at his side?

Zhongli narrowed his eyes as he pondered whether words of comfort would aid his yaksha.  "It would be good for you to experience something new after all your years of living."

"I already have," Xiao clenched his jaw, signaling that the topic was beginning to walk on thin ice.  "She--"

"--Is not dead," Zhongli reminded. "Do not mourn for a loss that has not occurred."

"But she's dying," he argued back, finally releasing the emotions he's pent up ever since they left you.  Zhongli's look of confusion prompted him to continue.  "She can feel the karmic debt bestowed upon me."

"When did this begin?"  The archon's usual reserved composure faltered slightly while his eyes widened.  

"A month ago.  I visited her; she can hear the voices of the damned.  She's been in physical and mental pain ever since."

"The bond..." Zhongli set his teacup down a bit abruptly as he thought to himself.  "It appears these side effects grow stronger in the other's absence.  How intriguing..."

"How do we discard them?  Is there a way?"

"Have you not interpreted my words in Qingce Village all along?  Or my words at the Dawn Winery?  I've already given you the means to act, Xiao."

--Can feel your emotions...emotions cannot be permanently ignored...fall on deaf ears...early grave...  Xiao scoffed and downed the rest of his tea before forcefully setting the cup back down onto the table.  "You think admitting my alleged feelings for a mortal human would solve the problem?"

"She's done her part, now it is your turn," he straightened.  "If you fail to do so, I fear she will perish from your karmic debt in no time at all.  If what you say is true, it's a miracle she's still alive.  Your admittance would seal the bond, as it would eliminate the side effects altogether."

Xiao's head whipped in the direction of the playing of an instrument note, but was only greeted with the joyful screams of children running around nearby.  "Tch.  How annoying," he played his mishearing off and returned to his normal sitting position.  Another sound reached his ears, but he neglected to react to it.  The notes are off.

Zhongli didn't question Xiao's sudden alertness, but that didn't take away from the fact that yet another side effect has revealed itself to the archon.  It appeared as though the yaksha was already aware of this side effect.

And man, did this one annoy Xiao the most.  He heard the most random of tunes and chords at the most random of times.  It would even jolt him awake when he managed to fall asleep on rare nights.  It wasn't all unpleasant though; there were times in which the melody struck all the right notes and the result was a beautiful thirty second song before it was gloriously ruined by the musician's hesitance or embarrassment.

He knew it was you.  Your constant need to practice was as pestering as your old daily prayers before he revealed to you that he could hear them.  At least he only sometimes heard the plucking of strings.  As pesky and invasive as it was, your insistence upon playing what Xiao only assumed was a lyre somehow brought a bit of joy to his heart.  It meant that you were doing better than the last time he saw you.

He just wished he could hear the end result and not your sloppy practice sessions.

........................

Only on the eve of the Lantern Rite, several days before the celebration, did he come to appreciate the hours of hard work you were putting into practicing the music.

You had locked yourself in your room again after watching the failed experiments Dottore had forced you to witness.  How many did you see die today? Fifty?  He clearly needed to adjust the ratio of your blood to whatever else he had in that serum he developed.  What was worse was that you were beginning to become desensitized to the loss of human life; amused by it, even. Just as the Tsaritsa wanted. Sometime into the fortieth treatment, your pains grew stronger as did the voices of the slain daemons.

You retreated to your room, relieved that Childe had for once allowed you to be without his presence.  You sat yourself next to the window and allowed for the evening light to illuminate the music sheets the harbinger had bought for you.  Your fingers grazed lightly over the strings as the voices continued to grow louder, absently plucking one of them to ensure that you still had full control over your slightly twitching limbs.  You had nearly snapped the strings last time the voices overwhelmed you--

There's no time nor need to reminisce those incidents.  You pulled yourself out of your thoughts and began to play, the smooth vibrations of the harp humming against your chest and shoulder as the strings were struck.  Unlike your practice sessions, your hands glided over the strings from one position to the next like you had played for a thousand years.  No hesitation could be felt from the chords.  Finally, it seemed as though you mastered this song.

Xiao.  I miss you...your warmth...your embrace... Your infested thoughts soon cleared as your mind drifted to an image of him.  I wonder if he too finds comfort in music when the voices overwhelm him?  For you knew that when the voices grew louder, he too, was subject to them.  The music overcame the screaming daemons, and you were relieved with a sense of peace.  Your fingers continued to play through the music and repeated the song for as many times as you felt fit.  Your aching limbs continued to throb, but you didn't let that stop you from playing.  Your mind now clear as water, you poured your longing for Xiao into your music. You hummed the melody as you played.

One day you'll find your way back to him, or him to you.  Was it okay to allow yourself to believe in the possibility that he held the same feelings for you?  Did he love you? No--Could he?  It was already naïve enough to think he was capable of harboring such intimate feelings after living through hell for over two thousand years.  And even if he did, it's not like you'd live as long as he has.  Would he push me away again?  You shoved that thought out of your mind with another series of chords.

You wouldn't be able to put an end to your feelings no matter what he did.  He was too admirable, too strong, too strict, too beautiful.  He was too kind, even if he put up a front.  You loved him too much; perhaps that would end in your own downfall just as Childe predicted and beat into your head every day, but that was alright with you.  If the voices were to eat away at you until all that remained were ashes, you were okay with being true to yourself until the very end.  Even if he never thought of you as something more than a companion.  And as you thought of him, the longing to be reunited swelled within your chest and overflowed into your fingers.

Your song was your unspoken prayer, your love and dedication were your offerings.

[scented-morker]

Speak now

A beeping sound echoes in the small bakery, the scent of freshly baked cookies enveloping you like a warm hug. A bell over the door jingles as someone enters the shop and you all out a “I’m in the back, I’ll be with you shortly” as you maneuver the hot pan out of the way.

You walk to the front of the store, expecting to see one of the sweet old ladies who frequent your business, and it’s a struggle to hide your surprise when you’re met with the handsome face of a man about your age.

“Uh hello,” a smile situates itself on your face as you approach where the man is standing, admiring the pastries through your display case.

“Hello” he stands up straight, his full height making you crane your neck slightly as he smiles back at you.

“Is there anything I can help you with today?”

He explains that he's getting a party together for the HYBE corporation's end of the quarter celebration, and is looking for a caterer for desserts.

"Oh, yeah absolutely, why don't I set you up with a tasting"

You weren't completely sure what they did in that building, other than that it was fancy and they got paid a lot for it. But an event is an event, and you liked catering events.

"Actually I think I'm good, I already know what I want"

A jolt of surprise runs through your body as he says it, confused on how he could already know. You're very certain he's never been in your business before, as you would definitely remember a face like his.

"Alright then, um how big of a headcount are we looking at"

"About 100 workers and their families, just put me down for," he glances back at the pastry cases to read the tags sitting in front of the baked goods, "75 of those tarts, both in raspberry and mint, 50 of those vanilla twist pastries, and 60 of the chocolate cannoli's"

You furiously scribbled down his order as he spoke, internally freaking out at how much time it would take you to bake everything, eventually looking back up when he stopped talking.

"Okay and that is under what name, and for what date?"

"Lee Heeseung, and next Saturday"

You grimaced at the short notice, thankfully Heeseung didn't notice, writing down the last bit of information on the order slip before shooting him a wide grin.

"Alright I will get that all worked out for you, thank you for the order"

He flashed a beautiful smile and you immediately smiled back, trying your best to ignore the way your stomach did flips at the sight.

"While I'm here, can I also just get whatever that chocolate thing is in the display case"

He said it with a slightly embarrassed chuckle, followed quickly by "just don't tell my boss, he'll probably give my nutritionist a heart attack"

You laughed with him, going to get the pastry he ordered, ringing it up and passing it over the counter, quickly snapping your hands back into yourself at the brush of his fingers.

Heeseung doesn't seem to notice as he takes a seat at one of the tables, continuing small talk with you as you replace items in the display case with fresh ones.

When you finished your task he was still eating and nobody else had come into the store, so you start wiping down the tables around him, accepting his offer when he asks you to sit with him.

"So you own this place?"

"Yep! It was my grandmas before the previous owner took over, and they just happened to be retiring when I graduated so it got passed down to me"

"That's impressive, owning your own business this young"

His eyes shined genuinely when he said it and you could tell that he really was impressed.

"Thank you, I'm very proud of it"

He smiles again and somehow you just know that he's a good person. The way he actually cares about the things you talk about, not just pretending to be interested. You could tell he loved seeing other people happy with the look he gave you when you talked, and maybe it was unreasonable, but right then and there a part of you fell for Lee Heeseung.

"You seem quite impressive yourself, working for a big fancy company like HYBE at your age!" You complimented back.

"Oh it's nothing, just a," he paused for just slightly longer than necessary before saying "an internship."

"That's still so cool! What's it like?"

You propped your chin on your hand as you waited for his response, not noticing the way he stared when you did so.

"Uh it's really not as cool as you think," he brushes off the question, "hey, do you want to go for a walk with me?"

The change of topic caught you slightly off guard, but you recovered quickly, checking the time on the clock and realizing it was time to close.

"Yeah that'd be great, just let me close up"

You go through the routine, counting your cash box and storing away pastries, eventually locking the door behind you as you and Heeseung head out into the evening.

"Where do you want to go?" You ask, since he was the one that suggested a walk, and he smiled back at you as soon as the words left your mouth.

"I thought you'd never ask"

He grabs your hand, excitedly pulling you to follow him as he passed through alleys and patches of trees, before eventually stopping, letting out a "ta-da"

You turn in a slow circle, taking in the view, willow trees hanging down around the bank of a river, small flowers covering the base of the trees.

"Oh my-"

You finally turned back to the man next to you, finding his sparkling eyes already on you.

"This is beautiful Heeseung"

His smile is bright enough to light up the slowly darkening night around you as it graces his face, and he pulls you over to sit down under one of the trees.

"Hey Heeseung, can I ask you something?"

"Yeah sure, anything"

"How'd you already know what you wanted to order? I'm sure I've never seen you in my store before, I would remember you"

"Because I'm just so handsome?" He teases, laughing even harder when you reply "yeah, exactly".

"Well Y/N, can I be honest with you?"

"Yeah, of course"

"I've tasted your food before, even before you owned that place"

Your eyes widened at his confession, head cocking to the side as you tried to think of where he could have had your pastries.

"Were you at an even catered?"

He shakes his head dramatically, mumbling something unintelligible.

"What was that?" You lean closer to try and hear what he says and he looks up then, face mere inches from yours as he repeats himself.

"I said 'you give a girl her first kiss and she doesn't even remember you'"

You let out a small gasp as you realize and your face flares up in embarrassment.

Seventh grade, you had your first kiss with a boy who went to the same music classes as you, and you remember embarrassingly bringing him baked goods every class after that. His name was Heeseung, and now that you think carefully you can see the resemblance to the man sitting in front of you now.

"Oh my gosh that's so embarrassing, how'd you know it was me?"

He decides not to tell you he's remembered you since that little peck in middle school and has been begging his boss to order from your bakery so he would have an excuse to see you again.

"You haven't changed much since seventh grade" was his response instead, and you slapped his arm at the comment.

You two spent the next three hours just talking, catching up on each other's lives and reconnecting after your time away.

Before you knew it the sun had completely set and there were no light posts in the area Heeseung had brought you, you now struggled to see the boys pretty smile only a foot in front of you.

"Its getting late, and you probably have work tomorrow, we should probably start heading back."

He checked his phone at your mention, and you pretended not to notice the giant number of notifications while his eyes widened at the time.

"I didn't even realize it had gotten so late, let me take you back"

You're glad he offered, not sure you would be able to make it back to the cafe without his guidance.

The way back seemed much shorter than when you had been pulled down it earlier that day, and you found yourself disappointed that he didn't grab your hand again.

"Well here we are"

He looked around once you made it back to the familiar building, before turning to you.

"Where's your car?"

"Oh, I live pretty close so I just walk, it's easier than trying to find a parking spot in the city traffic anyway"

He nodded his head along with your statement but then shook his head slightly.

"You can't walk home alone at this time of night"

You felt touched by his concern, but fought him on it anyway.

"It's fine Hee, it's only like four blocks away"

"Nope, no way. That's way too far, come on"

He waved his hand towards you and you looked down at it curiously.

"What?"

"I'm walking you home, now come on"

He grabbed your hand again, both of you smiling at how right it felt.

You reached your house in about five minutes, and you tried to hide your disappointment at the prospect of your fun night coming to an end.

"Do you want to come in"

His eyes lit up at the offer but were quickly turned down to look at his feet.

"I'd love to, but I have work early tomorrow"

"Oh, okay"

It was quiet for a few moments before he made eye contact again, taking a step closer to your body and pulling you in his arms in a friendly hug.

"Thank you"

You hugged him back, wrapping your arms around his torso.

"I should be the one thanking you, that spot was beautiful, and I had a really great time. Thank you for taking me with you"

Little did you know that he wasn't thanking you for the few hours you had spent together. But he said "of course" anyway.

"Well goodnight"

"Goodnight"

You went to go inside, sticking your key in the lock before quickly thinking of something.

"Wait!"

Heeseung looked at you quizzically, waiting for you to say whatever it was you had just thought of.

"I need your number," he raised one eyebrow and you quickly added "so you can text me when you get home safe, I would be an awful friend if I let you get kidnapped after you so graciously walked me home"

He laughed at your reasoning, but handed you his phone anyway as you two quickly added each other's contact.

You took a look at his contact, bursting out in laughter at the sight of it.

"Did you really put your name in as 'Heedungie' with a bunch of hearts?"

He looked proud of himself for making you laugh and he nodded his head.

"Yes, yes I did"

"No fair, give me your phone back I want to give you something embarrassing too"

You didn't think he actually would, but his phone was held out to you and you took it, quickly turning around and taking an exaggeratedly cute selfie to set as the contact picture before putting in a nickname for your name, complete with the same aggressive hearts as his.

"There"

He took the phone back and laughed at the improved contact.

"Perfect"

You shared one last smile before you entered your house, Heeseung leaving your porch after seeing you securely in, making sure he walked a block away before calling his driver so you wouldn't see.

Only once he was safe in the confines of the backseat did he look at the notifications on his phone.

23 missed texts from his father and 7 calls from his mother.

He clicked on the notification, skimming his eyes over the texts, rolling his eyes at their content. He didn't even read all the way through before shutting his phone off, throwing it across the seat for the rest of the ride.

You had just stepped out of the shower when you heard your phone ding, and you paused the music to go check the text.

'Just got home, all in one piece and no kidnapping attempts were made on me'

You laughed at his text, shooting back something along the lines of 'I'm glad to hear that' before heading out of your bathroom to get dressed.

Heeseung texted you a few more times after that, and you found yourself giggling at his messages exactly like seventh grade you did. Eventually you said your good nights, after you had scolded him for staying up when he needed to get up in the morning, and you smiled one last time at the obnoxiously cute contact name before floating off to sleep.

You went to work the next day, and the one after that, and there was no real difference in your life except for the constant texting and the extra bounce in your step. Even your regulars commented on how happy you looked.

Heeseung liked to come to the cafe on his lunch break, and you started making an extra lunch in the morning after the first day when he ordered three pieces of cake as his meal.

It was Thursday, and you were currently trying to find someone to help you bake the giant order for the party.

"Come on please, it's huge, and even one person would be a huge help to me"

"Sorry I can't, I'm babysitting for my neighbors the whole week"

You let out a sigh at yet another no, and put your phone back down on the counter.

You were so absorbed in the call that you hadn't heard Heeseung come in, and you almost screamed when you looked up to see him standing in front of you.

"Woah sorry," he was laughing so he obviously wasn't that sorry, "I didn't want to interrupt your call"

"It's okay"

"What do you need help with?"

It took you a moment to realize he meant the phone call and you let out another sigh at your empty search.

"I'm trying to get someone to help me with the order for the party, it's the biggest order I've gotten and it's just me so I can't make it all in one day by myself"

"Oh," he paused "what are you going to do"

"I don't know" you shrugged, "I'll have to start making things tomorrow, everything that would be able to stay overnight so that I don't have to do it all on Saturday, but even with that I don't know if I'll be able to get everything tomorrow done. Maybe I'll put a hiring sign up and hope someone applies by tomorrow"

He tried to stifle his giggles at how dumb of an idea that would be, but you still noticed.

"Heeeeee," you whined, holding the sound out for longer than needed, "stop laughingggg I know it's dumb. I'm trying to avoid a breakdown okay?"

He finally stopped laughing, and his eyes lit up like he just thought of an amazing idea.

"I can help you!!"

You look at him like he's crazy and he shrugs nonchalantly, "What? It's a good idea."

"No Hee, I would never ask you to do that. Besides it's literally for your order, I'm not making you cook for it, especially not on a work day"

"Nope, it's too late. I've made up my mind. I'm helping you"

"No Heeseung, you're not"

"Yes I am. Okay now I'm gonna run away before you can yell at me more. I'll be here tomorrow at- wait, what time do you even open?"

"Nine AM"

"-Then I will be here at nine AM"

"No Heeseung!"

He takes off running and you try to chase him down, both of your laughter ricocheting off the walls. A few people outside stop and watch as you run like children, most of them smiling at the sight.

"Heeseung"

"Nope, not happening"

He runs around you in a circle, quickly running up to the side of your body giving you a peck on the cheek and then taking off back towards the direction of his work.

"See you at nine AM" is the last thing you hear from him, a quiet message because of how far away he was, even though you know he was shouting when he said it.

You shake your head as you watch him turn the corner, turning around to come face to face with one of your regulars.

"So that's why you've been so happy lately?"

You try to think of something to say, some denial of how smitten you were, but all that came out was a giggle, one that solidified your current appearance of a lovesick school girl. You immediately slapped your hand over your mouth, embarrassed at your reaction, but the woman just laughed before heading into the building, you following shortly after to serve her.

And the next day, right at nine AM, the bell above your door rang, and in came the boy that had been the cause of your racing heart all week.

"Here I am"

"You're the worst"

"You say that, but you're smiling"

"Shut up"

He giggled as he followed you to the back of the building, teasing you more about how you were accepting his help anyway.

"I was hoping you wouldn't show up, but I guess since you're here I might as well get the help"

It wasn't true, you were up all night trying to decipher if he was actually going to show up. You even got out your cute apron and put some extra effort into your appearance this morning.

"I would recommend putting this on"

You toss him an apron to protect his clothes, going behind him and tying a nice little bow. He ignored the way his body tingled where your hands brushed it, and your breath hitched when he turned you around to do the same thing.

"This is my job Hee, I could tie it myself"

"I know," was all he said, letting his hands linger on your waist as he turned you back around to face him.

He tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear, his face a little bit too close to yours.

"Whatcha doing?" Your voice came out as a whisper and the way he smiled made your heart beat even faster then it already was, something you didn't think was possible.

"What do you want me to be doing?"

You gave a small laugh, throwing your arms behind his neck and angling your head up to get closer to the tall man above you.

"Does this answer your question?" You asked, referring to your previous actions.

"I think it's a pretty good indication" he spoke through a smile, leaning down to brush his lips against yours softly.

It was barely a kiss, absolutely no pressure from either end, but the butterflies in your stomach absolutely erupted at the contact, and you couldn't even try for an actual kiss because of the huge smiles on your faces.

"Did you feel it?" He whispered, and even without an explanation you knew what he meant.

A giggle left your lips, "yeah I felt it".

A jingle sounded as someone walked in the store and you pulled away from him to go serve the customer.

He was standing against the counter when you walked in, still just basking in the feeling of what had just happened.

"Alright lover boy, time to get to work"

He smiled at the nickname, coming up to you and spinning you around once, before speaking.

"Yes chef"

You laughed at his antics and gave him directions on how to help you start the tart shell.

By noon you were well ahead of schedule, the playlist you had chosen now blaring as you screamed the lyrics together, flour dusted over your faces as you took a break from kneading the dough for the twists.

"Thank you for this"

"Helping you bake?"

"No, everything else too"

He smiled and pulled you back in, this time for a real kiss.

That night you both went home early so that you could get up early for last minute party prep, after a goodnight kiss (or two, or three, or four...) at the your front door.

"Okay I'll see you tomorrow"

"Can't wait"

He hesitated to pull away from you, not quite wanting to leave, but you pushed him lightly.

"One more?"

He puckered up and you laughed giving him one last kiss before running into your house, hearing his whines through the door.

"Okay baby, I'll see you tomorrow"

You almost screamed when the nickname left his lips and you could hear the laugh he let out when he heard your squeal from the other side of your door.

**

"You can go to the back room, there will be another girl in there and a changing station set up, guests are starting to arrive now"

You listened to the other worker speaking, trying not to show how tired you were after finishing all of the baking that morning.

Following her instructions, you headed to the back room to change out of your sweats and into something more presentable for the party. By the time you had exited the back, you could hear the chatter of people and could tell the party was starting.

They started by giving a small speech about how well they had done that quarter, thanking all of the employees for their work and their families for supporting.

Within 30 minutes you were carrying out trays of your pastries, everyone mostly finished with dinner and some random business video was playing in the front of the room.

You walked out to stand along the wall with the other miscellaneous staff people working the event, and watched as they moved on to giving out awards for things like "best costumer service" and "highest sell rate". The entire time you were looking around for Heeseung, trying to spot him over by some lanky guys who looked like interns, but no luck.

"Alright now that all of the awards have been passed out, an important announcement from CEO Lee"

You looked around trying to spot the man in question, eyes eventually landing on an old man, grey hair and a pinstriped suit, as he used a cane to lift himself out of the chair and up to the stage.

You spotted Heeseung then, sitting at the same table the old man had just left, along with an older looking woman you assumed to be CEO Lee's wife, and another male that looked to be a little older than Heeseung.

You thought about trying to get his attention, but the CEO soon started speaking, and your eyes were pulled away from him.

"As I think we all know, I'm not as young as I was when we started this business," there were a few laughs from around the room, and the man waited for them to be done before moving on. "I don’t want you to worry, I’m perfectly healthy, but I, along with my family, have decided that it would be best for me to step down from the company."

Murmurs erupted throughout the room, and it was enough to tell you that the employees had no prior knowledge of this decision. You look over to Heeseung to gage his reaction, but instead of surprise or confusion, his face is laced with something that looks more like... disappointment? You decide it must be the lighting that's obscuring his actual expression, since that wouldn't make much sense.

"I will be retiring within six months, and my son, I know you've all seen him around the company," the female population seems especially excited about these words, a few turning to make faces at each other, you even hear one say 'hot boss' to her friend.

"Heeseung, please come up here"

You can hardly conceal your shock as you see your Heeseung stand up from his seat and go to the front of the room.

You furrow your eyebrows as he stands next to who you now realize must be his father.

"Heeseung will be taking over the company after my leave"

Your eyebrows shoot up as the words register in your mind.

Heeseung is going to be CEO of this giant company within 6 months.

Maybe you should have been mad that he lied to you, that he hid this part of himself from you. He definitely didn't tell you the position of his father, or the fact that he was going to be coming into said position, but you found yourself realizing that you didn’t really care.

'That's one hell of an internship' was the first thing you thought, and you laughed at yourself for it.

When you zoned back in to what was going on, Heeseung was ending what you figured was a short speech about him taking over, and you clapped along with the rest of the crowd.

His eyes met yours and you swore there was relief on it when he saw you let out a "whoo" along with a few others.

Heeseung steps down from the podium, taking a few hands that were held out to him, giving handshakes and responding to comments from men in high up positions.

You were called to the kitchen to pack up the few pastries that weren't needed, and the loud conversing of voices faded with the closing of the door.

You smiled giddily at yourself while transferring tarts to boxes.

'I can't believe I'm dating the new CEO'

Wait-

We're you dating the new CEO? Technically you'd never gone on a date or at least one that you called a date. And he had never asked you to be his significant other. But you kissed? Multiple times.

"What is going on in that pretty brain of yours?"

You almost dropped the tart in your hand you were so surprised by the voice. A quick look reveals the person that had you so zoned out in the first place.

"You were thinking so hard it looked like smoke was about to come out of your ears"

You can't help but laugh at his words, finally continuing your actions of packing up the food and thinking up a lie.

"Just thinking about how my little intern became CEO in a week," worry crossed his face, but it disappeared immediately when you continued, "you must have been an AMAZING intern"

He laughs and moves next to you to help.

"So I might have lied a little bit"

"A little bit?"

You raise your eyebrows at him and he corrects himself with a laugh.

"Okay it was kinda big, but I just didn't want you to treat me different or anything"

He gives you his big doe eyes as you place the last pastry in the box, sealing it up to be taken to your car.

"Hee, you know I'm not mad right?"

"Really?"

"Yeah"

He smiles, and you realize too late why he's coming closer to you, your feet leaving the floor as he spins you around.

"Hee, Hee, stop" you laugh out, and he finally puts you back on the ground.

"Okay, so you don't hate me"

You cup his face, leaning in until your noses are almost touching.

"Correct, I don't hate you"

"Then in that case," he backs up and you pout at the increased distance.

He takes your hands in his, looking at you in a way that has your knees about ready to collapse.

"Would you want to be, my official official, girlfriend?"

You giggle at how he seemed to have the perfect timing, pulling on his hands to finally plant a soft kiss on his lips.

"I would love to"

Part II

[babbushka]

Beyond Reasonable Doubt (ch.1)

                                –      A Lawyer AU      –

You and Kylo Ren have hated one another for as long as you can remember. He, a criminal prosecutor, and you, a defense attorney should be natural-born enemies, and you are. But when Kylo comes to you seeking representation after being charged for a murder he didn’t commit, you both learn a thing or two about life, the law, and love…

[5k, no warnings for this first chapter!] 

Available on AO3

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

In a world of ever-changing circumstances, where people do things that cause ripples and shocks through the very fabric of society that shake them to their core, where the sun shines and rain falls and snow blows cold through the streets of Manhattan, where there is life and death and a mess of bullshit in between, there was but one thing that you could ever comfortably rely on in life.

Only one thing remained constant in the grand scheme of it all: your alarm.

With a grunt and sigh, your arm extends out from underneath the covers to smack at the loud blaring jingle that sounds from your phone, hand desperately trying to hit the dismiss button without looking so that you don’t have to face the day just yet. It’s too early, you reason, to pull your whole self out from under the covers.

Eventually you give that thought up though, because dammit now you’re awake and it’s Monday morning and you have an office that’s waiting for you uptown. So, ever grudgingly, you throw the plush comforter off of your body and stretch to greet the day, saying good morning to the city that never sleeps.

You don’t usually dread waking up, but well, the last time you’d been in the office was Friday afternoon, after you lost your case.

After you lost your case, to him.

Glancing at the clock on your phone, you chew your lip for a moment or two, before finally turning off the do not disturb function, immediately going into the bathroom to shower and ready yourself for the day while damn near a hundred backlogged notifications make your phone buzz nearly onto the floor.

There’s a small mirror in the shower, a little compact to make sure there’s nothing left on your face after you scrub your skin clean, and you catch your own reflection in it. You’ve looked better, that was for damn sure – but by that same token, you’ve also looked worse. Mondays were shit, but today was gearing up to be an even worse one than normal.

No, you think as you shake your head adamantly, you have no desire to let him soak up any more of your good mood than he had already. So what if you had forgone your entire weekend, canceling plans and ignoring friends to nurse the sting to your pride that was losing? So what if instead of checking your email or your phone, you sat yourself on the couch and wasted two entire days doing nothing but watching shitty shows on Netflix?

What you did on your downtime was nobodies’ business, and since you live alone in your beautiful one-bedroom in SoHo, no one was there to spill your secrets. If anyone asked – not that anyone would, if they knew what was good for them – you would tell them that you absolutely did not spend the weekend wanting to throw darts onto a photo of his face. That wouldn’t be very professional, now would it?

Shutting off the water, you wrap yourself up in a big plush towel, and pad across the floor to your closet. Briefly, ever so briefly, you glance at your phone on your way, holding your breath, wondering, hoping that there might be something from him.

If there is, it’s buried under a pile of emails and text-threads from your firm, so he’ll have to wait.

Manhattan in January was chilly, so you bundle yourself up in your chicest coat overtop your most well-fitting skirt suit and a pair of heeled boots. Even if you felt like shit, you could look like million fuckin’ bucks, and no one would be the wiser.

And what a wonder the power of confidence was! Through the streets and down to the subway, you smiled at everyone, and they all smiled back. You offered your seat on the train to an elderly man who clearly needed it more than you, and he complimented your gloves. Everyone from the NYPD officer drinking his coffee to the mom scolding her three children brightened as you wished them a good morning, and somehow, along the way to work, your Monday blues disappears into something a little brighter.

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

Your good mood only continues to grow as you exit the elevator of the huge high-rise that you call your home away from home, your office on the twenty-third floor right in the heart of the Upper West Side. Sandwiched between the Hudson and Central Park, you have to admit that getting your ass out of bed was worth it, even if just for this view.

“Morning (Y/N).” The front desk security guard greets you, and you say hello back to him with a performative show of your badge.

HKS Law, so named after the founders and current partners Amilyn Holdo, Ben Kenobi, and Luke Skywalker, is a shining pinnacle of what defense attorneys and opposing counsel at trials should be. Not only had the firm made history time and time again with incredible wins and even more incredible ultimate losses, but it prided itself on being representation for the people no one else could represent.

Most of all, it had you.

If your alarm was a constant, than this was a universal truth: you are a damn good defense attorney. As you walk through the crisp and clean polished floors, you hold your head high, knowing that this loss against him still put you at the lowest loss rate of anyone in the history of HKS, lower than even the founders themselves.

That little reminder has you grinning to yourself. You’d been working with HKS for nearly six years now, and very quickly you saw your office climbing higher and higher up the skyscraper, saw it getting bigger and bigger. And now, you were nearly positive, that your meeting at eleven o’clock would be to discuss partnership with the firm as a reward for your continued hard work.

“Hey (Y/N)!” One of the associates, Rose Tico smiles at you from where she’s chatting with her sister Paige by their desks.  

“Someone looks like they had a nice weekend.” Paige remarks, and you only wink at them, playing the game.

A game, which becomes instantly easier as your assistant, a bright-eyed intern fresh out of law school appears seemingly out of nowhere.

“(Y/N), good morning!” She is already offering you a cup of something nice and hot, her arm cradling a stack of manilla folders that have all sorts of sticky-note flags on them, that she shifts onto her hip ever so slightly to brush a few loose braids out of her face, speaking at what feels like a million miles a second, “I have your coffee ready and there’s a fresh breakfast buffet in the break room if you’d like, I can get you something – ”

“Good morning Neisha.” You accept the coffee gratefully, but interrupting her only to give her a chance to catch her breath. You check your watch, it’s only half-past seven, she’ll wear herself out if she exerts that much energy first thing. “A bagel with the usual would be perfect, thank you.”

“No problem – oh, Rick wanted you to look over those case files before your eleven-o’clock.” She breathes a sigh of relief, and gives you a smile.

Groaning, you accept the manilla folders too, balancing the coffee cup on top of them as Iman follows you into your own private office. Your assistant stands in front of your desk at the ready, looking sharp and put together, as ever.

One thing that you loved about Neisha – aside from the dozens of things that you admired and appreciated about her – was that you have never ever seen her in something other than a pantsuit. She did not wear dresses or skirts, she was almost never in heels, and she did not carry a purse. Instead, Neisha could almost always be found in a very smart trouser and blazer set, often complete with vests, and fun-colored socks in her loafers to coordinate with her ever-expanding collection of ties.

“Rick can go fuck himself.” You mutter under your breath, and she laughs.

“Should I tell him you said that?” With a playful glimmer in her eye, she crosses her arms over her broad chest.

“Yes.” You wink, before checking your watch once again and reminding her about that, “Bagel?”

“Bagel – right, on it.” Neisha snaps her fingers and leaves, closing the office door behind her.

 You like your office, even if you’ve outgrown it. Much like the rest of the firm, it has stayed up to date with the contemporary interior design of the day. However where the open floor of the firm is mostly whites and silvers and glass, your office feels warmer with shades of coffee browns and creamy neutrals. 

Remembering how you had been so excited for the promotion to your own office, you can’t help but chuckle to yourself now – it really was a small office. It consisted of a long dark brown desk situated in front of a wall-unit bookshelf/display area, and a seating arrangement of matching brown chairs situated around a free-edge wooden coffee-table. A soft rug covers the marble flooring, and cream gauzy curtains cover the windows, but that was about it.

You had been to the offices of the higher ups, you knew just what you could achieve if you made partner – even if you made junior partner.

And if all went well during this meeting at eleven, you knew you’d be moving into one of those offices soon.

For the first time all weekend, you sit down in the big leather chair behind your desk and finally check your phone. The case files remain on your desk, and you know you’ll get to them eventually, but until you’ve had some breakfast and that coffee can work its magic, no one could blame you for scrolling through the shit that you had put off since Friday.

It’s mostly work friends taking your side, which you appreciate. They knew losing a case was hard for you – you didn’t do it very often. And even though you never lost to anyone besides him, it still never got easier.

The case had been a simple one, or at least, you had thought so. Murders are so often simple, either the person did it, or they didn’t. If they did, there’s evidence, and if they didn’t, well, there’s evidence too. And when two parties come forward with their own evidence, compelling, strong fucking evidence – evidence of alibis and proof that your client couldn’t have been there, couldn’t have done it – it’s up to the jury to decide who to believe.

In this case, this jury decided to believe him, and there was nothing you could do about it. It was losses like this, losses like the knowledge than an innocent man was going to prison, that make you seriously question the legal system as a whole, frankly.

It’s then that you see it, and your hand freezes.

You have a missed message from him.

He’s saved in your contacts as the dick from VTH, and even though that could refer to any number of people, you know that it’s him. You have five missed messages from him, as a matter of fact, which sends both a rush of adrenaline through you, as well as a spike of anxiety.

The two of you…you’d never been friends, not really. In fact, the closest thing to a relationship that you might have is that of a rivalry, if not flat out enemies. You hated him, and he hated you, and he had hated you ever since the first day he set eyes on you, from the very first moment you walked into the courtroom as a last-minute addition to the defense counsel, and won the case in fifteen minutes.

Which was a shame, because you often find yourself thinking that if he weren’t such a…well, a dick, there could have been something there. Instead of a friendship, or even a civil acquaintanceship, you have over the years developed something of a hate-fucking-enemies-with-benefits arrangement. He was probably pissed that you ignored him all weekend, but that was okay – let him be pissed, you were pissed too.

You don’t open his messages, not yet. You’d need coffee in you and food in your stomach before you’re able to handle whatever mood he has to be in, now that you’ve got the energy to deal with him.

You’re so deep in thought that you nearly miss when Neisha returns with a plate for you, a big spread arranged on your desk for you to enjoy. You’re about to thank her and let her get on with whatever work she has to do, but she holds out a newsletter with a devious smile and curiosity gets the better of you.

“Have you seen?” She asks, and you raise a brow, a smile of your own creeping across your face.

The newsletter was something that circulated through the different firms in the area, keeping everyone up to date – or at least as up to date as legally possible – on the goings on in the sphere of influence that you all found yourselves in. Everything from congratulatory memos to case results, and even high profile celebrity gossip was fair game, but one of the more scandalous parts of the newsletter, was the publication of trouble that various lawyers found themselves in.

The Monday morning newsletter had quite a bit of this from over the weekend, and right there on page sixteen, is none other than his face looking as irritated as he possibly can, as he’s being given a hard time for a DUI on Friday night.

“Oh fuck.” Your eyes widen, wanting nothing more than to call him and yell at him for being a fucking idiot, “What the hell does he think he’s doing?”

“Whatever he wants, evidently.” Neisha shrugs, no doubt thinking the news would cheer you up in some sort of vengeful way that you appreciate. She reaches for a pumpernickel crisp from the spread on your desk and muses, “I bet the cops are thrilled, they hate that sonofabitch.”

“Yeah them and me both.” You mutter, already rubbing away a headache that’s starting to form across the expanse of your forehead. “He’s not going to be pleased about that photo, he looks rumpled.”

Sighing, you look down at the photo. He’s very clearly intoxicated, you’ve seen that look in his eyes more than once, the blurry out of focused glassy look that he gives you over smiles at dinner sometimes. You blink away the image of him in a nice suit on the other end of a table, reminding yourself that you’re angry with him.

“Doesn’t he have a driver? I wonder why he got behind the wheel himself.” Neisha continues, and bless her you think, for continually giving you a means to not be left alone with your thoughts.

“If there’s one thing I know about that man, it’s that when he sets him mind to something, no one is going to stop him from doing it.” You reply, not able to ignore a bit of gut-wrenching regret.

Maybe if you hadn’t been so mad at him, you could’ve gone with him to wherever he was coming back from, and maybe you could’ve --

“Should I have this framed?” Neisha asks, and you blink again.

You check your watch, it’s only a quarter ‘til eight. Have you really only been at work for fifteen minutes? That stack of folders sits on the edge of your desk, taunting you. You’re gearing up for an extra long day.

“No, that’s okay.” You shake your head, opening the bottom drawer of your desk and dropping the newsletter into it. “I will keep a hold onto it though. Just for fun.”

With a laugh, Neisha leaves and once again closes your office door.

“God dammit.” You grumble, pulling your phone out yet again.

The unread messages from him sit buried beneath thirty other messages that don’t warrant responses, and you hover your thumb over his name.

After all these years, something about getting a text from him made your heart jump. It felt stupid, you weren’t some teenager with a crush in high school, you were an adult, and this was just another adult, who you happened to have developed some sort of attachment to. Not a friendship, or a relationship even, but some kind of attachment.

Right now, you wanted to bitch at him for getting himself into trouble, for driving while he was so very clearly drunk, a whole argument prepared about how he could have seriously hurt or even killed someone, how even though he’s a rich asshole he can’t afford to be so reckless.

But first, in order to bitch at him, you have to read what he’s sent you over the weekend, and that’s where you keep tripping up. You don’t know why, but when you do finally open up his texts, you find that you’re holding your breath until you read them.

You try to ignore the way the thread starts out, try to ignore how if anyone were to squint, they might think something was going on between you two.

 Incoming: [1/8 6:03am] just picking up croissants from that place u like. jam?

[1/8 6:10am] Yeah, raspberry if they have

Incoming: [1/8 6:11am] on it, go back 2 bed.

 That had been just over a week ago, and you remember the day well, how you exchanged smiles over bites of fresh and flaky pastry, how you had dipped the croissants into hot chocolate in his bed, not giving a fuck about the crumbs that weren’t your problem because they weren’t your sheets.

How that was the last time you had seen him, before the conclusion of the case.

Now, now that you’d lost, the tone of the thread has very clearly shifted to something much colder. One thing you’re surprised to see though, is that they’re all from around Friday night, which was unusual.

 Incoming: [1/15 7:43pm] going out 2 celebrate tonight, join me

Incoming: [1/15 8:57pm] u can’t ignore me forever u know

Incoming: [1/16 12:02am] i’m glad u didn’t come, ud fucking hate it here. theyre playing music 2 loud

Incoming: [1/16 12:15am] r u seriously still mad?

Incoming: [1/16 1:09am] Fuck you.

 Rolling your eyes, you rub away more of that headache that starts to form. It was weird that he didn’t text you at all for the whole day of Saturday, or Sunday for that matter. If you didn’t spend the weekend together, he was very content to simply blow your phone up with links to random bullshit or long text conversations in broken grammar because his thumbs were too big for the buttons.

So for there to be radio silence after one o’clock in the morning was strange.

“For fucks sake.” You find yourself texting him back without even thinking about it, your fingers moving over the keyboard easily and quickly, sending off a slightly antagonizing reply after two days of nothing;

 [1/18 7:55am] Looks like you had quite the night on Friday.

 There, you think. That should get a response out of him. No doubt he would be quick to complain about how he had been pulled over and the whole nine yards. You wait for it to come through, the text. Or more accurately, the string of impassioned paragraphs that he tends to send you.

But a minute go by, and there’s nothing.

Five minutes, and nothing still.

You know you have to work, you have shit to do, you have that big meeting in a couple hours that you have to mentally prepare for, there’s no time to be worrying about him not texting you back. Still, you don’t like the silence. Sure that makes you a hypocrite, but he deserved your cold shoulder for beating you in court. At least, that’s how you justify it for yourself.

Getting up from your desk, you hover in the doorframe, where your assistant’s desk sits just outside to act as a buffer for anyone wanting to bother you.

“Hey Neisha?” You ask quietly, getting her attention, “I haven’t missed any calls, have I?”

A crease of confusion dips between her brows as she frowns, and immediately she checks the call logs on the conference phone that sits on her desk next to the big computer that takes up most of her space.

“No not that I can think of, are you expecting someone – ?”

Just as she’s asking, the phone rings. You lean over and see the number is one you don’t recognize, and you frown too.

“Better get that.” Neisha says awkwardly, so you just nod and retreat back into your own office from where you came.

It’s been seven minutes now, and there’s still nothing from him.

“Fine, fuck you too.” You mutter at the phone, locking it and putting it in the shallow drawer of your desk so you can focus on the folders in front of you finally.

 The stack is pretty normal, all the weekend material finally coming in now that it’s the start of a new week. There’s new case files to look through to decide if you’re doing to accept the client, supplementary material from old case files that you’ve asked for to review, notes and evidence belonging to associates’ cases that you said you’d give your opinion on – all mixed into one big pile.

You liked it though, liked staying busy. It was a good distraction from a loss, the ability to win, the ability to prove to yourself and to the world that you’re good at what you do. There are all sorts of awards and pieces of paper displayed on the walls of your office that show that you’re good, but still, there’s nothing like a strong win after a frustrating loss.

But you’re not even halfway through reading the first folder, when Neisha knocks on your door and opens it slowly, a look of preemptive apology on her face.

“I’m afraid you’re going to need to cancel your eleven o’clock.” She says, and you can tell by the tone of her voice that there’s no use in trying to argue with her.

You let the folder fall down onto the desk, and brace yourself for whatever bombshell she’s about to drop on you, what could possibly be so important for you to have to reschedule one of the biggest meetings of your career. They would understand, you’re sure.

You hope, anyway.

“Who is it?” Your tone is already filled with dread, but a resigned kind of dread, knowing that whatever it must be, it has to be big, and you’re the only one in this entire fucking firm who can handle big things like this – it was the reason they wanted you for partner in the first place.

But Neisha hesitates with this response, scratches the back of her neck in a way that makes you instantly curious.

“I…I was instructed not to say, just that you’ve been requested to meet with them regarding representation.” She tells you, and now your headache pounds even harder.

Clients didn’t withhold their identity from you; some used an alias of course, but you can’t say that so far in your career you’ve had a completely anonymous client. Whoever this person was, had to either be royalty, or something very very close.

And though that meant there was going to be a nightmare of a trial – because these high profile people almost never got to simple settle, not when the prosecutor wants to make a show of prosecuting them – you can’t help but think that would be a pretty good notch in your beltloop, as it were.

“Alright, where are they?” You’re already up and away from your desk, shuffling the case files into a locked cabinet.

“Rikers.” She says straight away, and you let out a groan.

“Of course they are.”

You had almost hoped that whoever this mystery client was, they had posted bail and could meet at a nice neutral location. You didn’t have anything against Rikers personally, but rather the entire prison industrial complex as a whole, and as far as New York prisons went, there were few more infamous for being unnecessarily brutal than Rikers Island.

“I can call them back and tell them you’re busy…but they sounded adamant about wanting you in particular.” Neisha nudges gently, and really there’s no need to butter you up, you’ve already made up your mind.

“I’m guessing they didn’t tell you why?” You ask, even though you know the answer.

“Correct.” She replies with a sheepish shrug.

You look at her, at your watch, at your phone screen which shows no new notifications from the last time that you checked it, and you square your shoulders.  

“Alright, reschedule the eleven o’clock, and let’s get out of here before Holdo freaks the fuck out on me for that.” You say, grabbing your coffee and a few more of the pastries to take in the car with you for the drive.

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

Most times, you have no problem taking the subway wherever you need to get, but visiting Rikers wasn’t as easy as hopping off the train and walking a couple blocks. For times like these, you and Neisha take one of the company cars, a sleek and shiny black thing with dark tinted windows. Cars really aren’t practical in the city, which is why you don’t have one of your own, but it was nice to be driven around from time to time in the peace and quiet of a car like this.

Normally, visitors are not allowed on Mondays or Tuesdays, but you’re not a normal person, and you’re not here for a normal visit, so once you pass through the security gate, the K-9 unit and the metal detector security tests with ease, you find it a pretty quiet lobby.

“Good afternoon Ms. (L/N), here on official duty?” One of the correctional officers that sits up by the front visitation desk beams at you.

“No, I just missed you Jake.” You reply, fishing out your identification for him even though he really doesn’t need it. Jake has worked there only a year or so, and every time you see him you can’t help but think he’s young, too young for this job, you think, too young to become desensitized to the humanity of incarcerated individuals. But that’s not a conversation that you’re here to have today, so instead you keep up the chitchat with, “How’s Lottie and the kids?”

“They’re good, who are you here for?” Jake asks as a matter of protocol, and you give Neisha a look, before looking back at him.

“That’s just the thing, I don’t know. I wasn’t informed for confidentiality reasons.” You try to explain, before leaning forward and mock-whispering to him, “Please tell me someone has me on the list and I didn’t drive all this way for nothing.”

Jake laughs, a sound that feels out of place in a place like this, and pulls something up on his computer. You can’t really see it, the list, and that’s okay. Whoever this mysterious person is, you’ll find out within just a few minutes.

“You know the drill, they’re waiting for you in the back.” Jake waves you off, and you’re glad to go.

“Wait out here.” You tell Neisha, who clearly looks uncomfortable even being in the lobby, and with good reason. She doesn’t argue you on that, instead takes a seat on a bench near Jake’s table, and the two of them get to chatting while your boots click on the floors as you walk away.

There’s a couple different visitation areas in the jail, and the deeper into the building you go, the more that you’re glad that visitation isn’t allowed on Mondays. You don’t want the chance of running into someone that you had failed. Granted there had only been a handful of those instances, but the thought of any one of them being here is not outside the realm of possibility.

Through the sea of empty tables and chairs that are reserved for long term inmates who happen to have visitation privileges for good behavior, you find yourself moving deeper and deeper, until you’re at the door of another room, a closed off one more typical to that seen in movies and television shows.

Opening the door, you hang in the hallway to confirm that there’s no one else there, as there shouldn’t be. There’s eight stations, four on each side of the small room, with a phone and a pane of bulletproof glass. Right away, you have a feeling this is going to be a murder trial, if they’re not even letting you meet with the client out in the open, if they’re monitoring the phone conversation that you’re about to have.

You see a shuffle of movement out of the corner of your eye, and assume that that’s who you’re here to meet, so with your chin held high, you step into the room, and make your way to the visitation booth where a man in a bright orange jumpsuit is waiting on the other side of the glass.

Stopping as quickly as you’ve started, you stand frozen in the middle of the room, blinking away and desperately shoving aside a wave of feelings that have crashed over you at the familiar face behind the glass.

The dark hair, the deep eyes, that proud nose, those full lips, you take it all in with some strange sense of disbelief – surely this must be a dream? It has to be, even as you sit on the little stool and yank the phone off the wall, shoving it against your ear, not even knowing where to start as you try to wrap your mind around the fact that the man, this mystery client…

“Hey sweetheart.” He says, and you could smack him upside the head if only there weren’t this glass between you and Kylo Ren.

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

Tagging some pals, please let me know if you’d like to be added to or taken off the taglist! @safarigirlsp​ @steeevienicks​ @mochabucky​ @sacklerscumrag​ @artsymaddie​ @bitchydecisions​ @direnightshade​ @reyloaddict55​ @kylorenswhxre​ @sunflowersinthesnow​ @mousemakingjam @the-unmanaged-mischief​ @drake-bells-waxed-penis @littleevilme13 @rennaissance-mama @materialisthicc​ 

[greenygreenland]

Sink or Swim: Kai x Reader [kinda angsty]

-tbh i had a tiny crush on Kai growing up

-i still swoon over him when he's cool but like, lloyd has stolen my heart

-you all live in yang's temple still

-as a note, i write for female readers because uhhh yeah plz don't be mad at me ;-; (and either way, you can always change the words around in your head if it bothers you)

Summary: Kai needs help. You're there for him, catching him before he sinks.

Kai's got Lloyd, but who's got Kai?

Ninjago was filled with a variety of perils. Some were easier to see, such as destruction of any population within the premises of Ninjago city. Other times, it was minuscule, like a speck of dust. If you looked hard enough without blinking, you could see it. But most times it was invisible.

The sun was bright today, shining past the swiftly moving clouds as you clashed under its heat. Sparks flew as your katana slammed into Cole's, who skillfully parried your blows. You readied another combo, twisting to the right and faking a slash before spinning and striking to the left.

"Cole look out!" shouted Kai. Cole wasn't fast enough, and you knew it was because he wasn't used to using a katana. His hammer lay on the platform leading inside, right by Jay's side under the sunshine.

You suddenly realised Cole would be split in half if you didn't stop. But how could you when the inertia practically sent you flying towarss him? "Cole--!"

Clang!

Kai parried the attack. He hit your blade with so much force that it was sent flying across the courtyard, thankfully, clattering harmlessly on the ground. You heaved out a harsh sigh and slapped your knees. "That was close. Sorry Cole." He chuckled, giving Kai a good slap on the shoulder.

"For once our Hot-Head wasn't distracted by his 'oh-so-perfect' looks." Cole said. "How did you do that so fast?" Kai sheathed his sword with a shrug. It was odd to see him so quiet, especially around this time in the day. His expression remained relaxed, but it was void of its usual smug smirk. "I don't know, I just improvised."

You can't help the frown settling on your lips. There was an edge to Kai's voice, as if he had just returned from an unseen battle between life and death. He looked normal, yet the way he forced out a small laugh made you cringe.

"I'm going inside, think I might shower." he abruptly announced. "Don't train too hard or you might bake in the sun!" You watched as he fiddled with the strap on his sheath, twiddling it and running it between his fingers. He caught your stare and flashed a fleeting smile your way, yet it didn't feel genuine. "Kai--"

He pretended not to hear you and rushed through the temple doors. Your frown deepened. "He looks upset." Jay rested his cheek in his hand with a snort. "I'll say. He looked like he was thinking hard about something."

"But what?" Cole inquired with a sigh. "Nothing's been happening around Ninjago, shouldn't he be happy about it? He can play video games all he wants now, or, I don't know, talk to Skylor on the phone? Morro's gone and Lloyd's fine now." Zane raised doubtful brow. He took a seat by Jay and leaned his head back against one of the supporting beams. It was an odd sight to see everyone so deeply in thought again, especially since none of you should have been deeply in thought in the first place.

"Lloyd has not fully recovered." Zane notes. "He suffers from mental trauma and is regaining his strength as we speak." Nya hummed in agreement. She set her weapon down with a thoughtful nod and leaned against a supporting beam. "I don't know about you, but he seemed kind of sad. Why don't you talk to him (Y/n)?"

"Yeah, you're his girlfriend so you guys share a special connection." piped up Jay. You cam't deny that. Your relationship with Kai was special, so he told you certain things no one else had ever known about him. Whether it be about his past, or even what he dreams for the future, you knew it all.

Well except this.

You stood up, ignoring the low cracks from your aching body. "I'll be back." You pulled open the temple's doors, gently shutting it behind you as you surveyed the vast room. The main hall was empty, save for Sensei Wu who sat at a table drinking tea. He turned to you, eyeing your troubled expression knowingly. "Kai is in his room." he simply stated. You smiled at him gratefully. "Thank you Sensei."

You sprinted up the stairs, caring not if you skipped the creaky steps or walked right over them. It was quite tranquil in the halls of the quiet temple, yet somehow, it made you uncomfortable. "Kai?" You stopped in front of his door. "Kai--"

Sniffling. That was the first thing that caught your ears. Your fingers paused on the door handle, slipping past the cool metal as you continued to listen to the sounds. You knew what crying sounded like, but this? It was earth-shattering. The way he cried sounded exactly like raw agony. It was painful to listen to, yet you couldn't bring yourself to walk away.

If Kai was suffering, you had to be there for him like all the times he had been there for you, or Lloyd, or Nya and Jay and Zane and Cole.

Your fingers wrapped around the door handle. You gently knocked and peeked inside. He sat on his bed with his back facing you. His katana lay on the floor instead of of by his bed or next to his pillow like he usially did.

"Kai?" Your voice came out as a gentle whisper. "Are you okay?" His crying ceased so quickly that if you hadn't been standing outside listening, you would have thought everythimg were your imagination.

"Yeah." he steadily said. "I'm okay. I just needed to take a break after that spar. It got really intense." He laughed. It wasn't a happy one. If you knew what it felt like to have your organs ripped out, you'd describe it as listening to Kai fake his laugh and fake his happiness. He put on a brave face for the world, and perhaps that was because he knew people relied on him to step up when Lloyd couldn't.

You opened the door a little wider and let yourself in, softly closing it behind. "If something's wrong Kai, you can tell me." He sniffled quietly. "No, I'm fine." He laughed; you didn't miss the quiver in his voice. "I'm just a little tired."

"No, it's something else. I won't judge you, promise."

Kai sniffled and grabbed a tissue from his nightstand. He blew his nose with a shaky breath and tossed the tissue in the bin. For a good minute, he sat there in silence, slowing inhaling and exhaling rattling breaths. You made your way over to him and took a seat at the edge of his bed. He kept his back towards you as he sniffled some more, so you sat there, watching his shoulders quiver.

Slowly, Kai entertwined his hand with yours. He gave it a good squeeze, as if reassuring himself you were still there. You didn't want to say anything to him yet. If you did, you were sure it would break his already fragile tranquility. Thankfully, he made the first move.

"I know you wouldn't leave me," he began, "but sometimes I can't help worrying. What if we go on a mission and none of us make it back? Lloyd almost died, Cole's a ghost.... What if something happens to you? Or--or Nya and Jay or Zane?" He let out a rattling breath that spoke of all the battles you both endured. It was hard to believe you both survived every single one of them.

"Kai, we've lived this long." you said. "Why not longer? And even if one of us does die, life will go on. It always does in Ninjago, and it blooms again into something new." You squeezed his hand. "You're thinking about your parents too."

The quiet Kai stayed in was enough of an answer.

"I understand it hurts. You know, my parents died when I was very little. I don't remember how they looked like, but I remember what I felt. They made me so happy. It was short, but I found it again in you and the others. Even if something disappears, it's never truly lost." You smiled even though Kai would never see it. "Lloyd's still here because you saved him. None of us are going anywhere for as long as we can help it."

Kai's shoulders slumped. A sigh left his lips and he finally turned to face you. What strikes you the most about him isn't the puffiness under his eyes, or the bags and crinkle in his brow--it's the life that's been sucked out of his expression. His eyes were hollow, as if someone had completely wiped the emotion of happiness from existence. The deep frown tugging at his lips is even worse. It's thin, tight, and quivering.

"I-I'm sorry..."

You placed a hand on his cheek. "Kai." It's all you can muster, a name, a look of sorrow, and worry. Howw had you not seen this? How had you missed something so plainly put?

You gently pulled him closer, wrapping your arms around his warm body as the rain fell from his eyes. "You have nothing to be sorry for. If anyone should be sorry, it's me. I should be there for you, but I didn't notice. I love you though and I'm here now." you gently whispered.

"You're not alone Kai. You don't have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. We're all here for you and no one is leaving." His cries started out soft, but with each word that left your mouth, his whimpers grew, gaining and gaining in volume until a heart-wrenching sob ripped through his throat.

Tears gathered in your eyea and you allowed yourself to cry with him. It hurt to think about losing anyone, it hurt to see your boyfriend so battered, so beaten and defeated. What cure could you offer to remedy his pain you shared?

There was no answer to that. And so you sat there, keeping your arms tight around each other as if either of you would disappear. Right now, it was sink or swim. You had to fight the ache and push forward, even if it felt like you were both drowning.

Please don't forget to reblog so this can reach more people! Thank you all for reading!