#so many questions and so little time to answer them!

[lambilegs]

a secret surprise (sevika x reader)

۶ৎ contains: fluff and smut (so minors dni!!), sevika has a dick, ringing in christmas with some nasty sloppy sex, breeding kink (+ pregnancy talk but it's all just roleplay, sev and reader aren't actually trying to get pregnant), reader's body is referred to w the following terms: "pussy," "cunt," "clit," "hole," reader and sev banter A LOT (v much feisty!reader-coded), degrading kink (terms used include: "slut," "whore," "cumslut"), begging, edging and teasing, light humiliation kink, daddy kink (just as a title), reader is called "girl" and "(house)wife"

۶ৎ divider by: @u1traviolxnt

۶ৎ note: just a tadddd late on a christmas-themed fic LOLL I hope all who celebrated had a great christmas, while those who don't had their own wonderful day too <33 for those whose christmases weren't the most warm or fuzzy, I hope you all get to find some relief soon, and that things ease up and you get to experience peaceful days ahead. please take care of yourselves and try to engage in things that bring you a bit of happiness-- ofc though it's also entirely understandable if you need some time to just rest your body and mind, and if so, I'm proud of you for giving yourself that time <3

۶ৎ comments and asks letting me know what you think are always appreciated!! <3 would love to hear mwahhh

from your corner in the room, you watch sevika move about the living room. she's the picture of respect when it comes to your family -- not that that's much of a surprise. she knows how to keep things polite and levelled when necessary, a practice honed from many hours of working one-on-one with her boss, silco. honestly, you're kind of impressive. sure, she's always been someone pretty reserved upon first meeting, but with your family, she's also cordial, helping around when needed and even tolerating some of your older relatives' cheesy jokes and long, seemingly never-ending anecdotes. she even watches over some of the younger kids at one point, sitting by and making sure none of them get harmed. if they bother her with inane questions, she'll give one-worded answers, and half-heartedly play with them if they bug her enough.

that's not to say she's completely absent of her usual attempts to irk you, though. when no one's looking, she pinches the side of your waist, igniting a yelp that has several heads whirling in your direction. once the shock has died down, you smack her arm with a glare, hissing, "I hate you." when everyone is moving to the kitchen to fill their plates with food, she snakes a hand down and playfully squeezes your ass, catching you with a mischievous laugh when you stumble. when you're washing dishes in the kitchen while everyone else does karaoke and plays games out in the living room, she saunters in, leaning on the wall and watching you. when you ask her if everything is okay, she slides behind you, wrapping her strong arm around your waist and nuzzling into your jaw, pressing some warm kisses there.

"have I impressed you?" she asks, her low voice making you clench down. between the travelling, all the last-minute preparations that have commenced since, and separate bedrooms, you two have barely had time to have sex this week.

"mhm," you hum, trying to ignore the throb between your thighs. "I'm proud of you, sevi."

she sighs against your skin, and you can feel the way her body loosens against yours. she's clearly relieved.

"didn't think you'd be that worried," you coo. "you trying to get their blessing or something?"

she scoffs against your hair. "I don't need their blessing." her warm palm, which has been rubbing on your stomach, slows down. "but, I'd like for them to... you know, at least approve a little."

you're unable to resist the smile that creeps onto your face. despite her little tough act, you know your girlfriend does care about this kind of stuff. she's careful and thinks about your guys' future far more than she lets on, and like it or not, she's wrapped around your finger. if you'd like for her to do something, even if it's something as old-school as win your family's approval, she's gonna do it. 

"what, in case you wife me up?" you giggle, scrubbing away at a bowl with some particularly dry, stubborn stains. 

"don't tell me you're expecting a proposal."

"it would be kind of romantic to do it on christmas eve," you say matter-of-factly.

"except we're not in a damn hallmark movie," she snickers. "besides," she continues, her husky voice lowering as her mouth draws close to your ear, "if I propose to you, it's gonna be when we're alone."

you gulp, just the notion of being alone with her after such a momentous event doing something to you. "why?"

her fingers trail down your stomach, sliding between your thighs. you hiss at the boldness of her touch, your hips bucking when she presses her fingers against you through the layers of fabric. "because I wanna be able to give you the marriage experience that night."

"of course your horny ass immediately thinks of sex when it comes to the 'marriage experience,'" you drawl, the last two words coated in mockery. 

"oh, come on, you're telling me you aren't thinking of it right now?" she chuckles, the noise of it deep and wrapped in velvet. "doing the dishes like a good little housewife while I take care of you." her words are punctuated with the firmer rubs she's beginning to push into your clothed core.

you gasp softly, but still try to proceed with your counterarguments. sevika always has people right in the palm of her hand, and since you two have met, you've relished in giving her a hard time. "I'm anything but a housewife, you know that."

"just humour me a bit." she licks a long stripe along your neck, and you grip the bowl so hard you worry for a split second that it'll break. "like I did for you when we played boss-and-secretary the other night."

just the mention of your little night of roleplaying has you biting back a moan. sevika had looked downright sinful in her unbuttoned shirt and loosened tie, cock plunging into you as she sucked on your tits and landed spank after spank on your ass, muttering about how you were such a slutty subordinate. 

"well, you enjoyed that if I remember correctly," you breathe out, the words less firm and more shaky than you'd like.

"and you're telling me you don't enjoy this little fantasy? letting me spoil that cunt rotten after a long day of playing house."

the sudden filth of her words has you bucking uncontrollably and she laughs quietly, her hips smacking right back into yours. "that's enough to get you going, huh?"

"fuck you," you whisper. 

her hand releases some of the pressure it had against your mound. "such a nasty mouth. and on christmas eve too?"

you snort. "sorry, I forgot you're father christmas."

her teeth graze the lobe of your ear and you sigh in pleasure. "last time I checked, you called me something else -- though, it is kind of close to 'father.'"

you're about to retort when a sudden pound of footsteps down the hall has you yanking away from sevika, your girlfriend stepping to the side just in time for when your aunt barges in. she makes small talk with sevika as she retrieves glasses from the cabinet, luckily sparing you as you duck your head down, pointedly latching your eyes onto the sink.

when she leaves, you shoot sevika a glare. "jesus, at this rate, you're gonna do something so bad that I can never show my face here again."

"you didn't seem to mind much."

you roll your eyes. "well, it was a moment of weakness." clearly, considering you can feel the thick juices leaking from your hole now.

"been having a lot of those lately."

you ignore her because, unfortunately, she's very right. sevika can read your body like a book, and therefore, in spite of your curses and rebuttals throughout the day, she’s taken notice of every pleasured reaction her touch evokes. from the flinch of your hips, to the puff of air that shoots from your mouth, to the way you immediately grind against her hand. 

not that you guys can do much about it.

at least, that's what you think until a soft knock flows through the space of your childhood bedroom that night. 

you tentatively rise up, quietly calling out, "yeah?"

when sevika walks in, her lips curled into a self-satisfied smirk, you jerk back in surprise. "what the hell? sevi, I--"

you're immediately cut off with her broad body crawling over yours, pinning you down to the bed. without a moment's hesitation, her lips capture yours, tongue immediately slipping in and swirling around yours. you squeeze your eyes shut at the sloppiness of it, her lips massaging yours with slow purposefulness. she pulls back, flattening her tongue and roving it along the curves and plush of your lips, catching the bottom one under her teeth and nipping at it. 

you gasp sharply at the sting, delightfully mixed in pain and pleasure. she tugs on it, stretching it out before letting it go and sucking on it slowly, spit dribbling from her mouth to yours. "sevi, why are you..."

"it's getting too much," she grunts. "I need -- fuck, I need you."

you slide your hands under the itchy fabric of the ugly christmas sweater you got her three days ago. it’s supposed look funny, weird even, but instead, it just emphasizes her broad shoulders and hugs her biceps just right. it's almost annoying how hot your girlfriend is.

"awe, is someone getting needy?" you tease, your point embarrassingly met with a hitch of your breath when she starts planting soft, wet kisses down the slope of your neck, pausing to suck on the spot under your ear.

"says the one who was practically dry humping me in the kitchen."

"only because you jumped me first!" you quietly snap, tugging on her short hair so that she meets your accusatory gaze. "just like now. in my childhood bedroom," you add in a deadpan tone.

"and?" her teeth flash at you in the dim lighting, her adorable little gap making your stomach flip. "you're telling me you don't like this?" her hand strokes along your stomach, reaching your breast with a tight squeeze that sends you arching, your nipple's contact with both her firm palm and the fabric of your sweater making it tingle. "the idea of getting corrupted in this bed? getting fucked by me when you know you shouldn't?"

your body twists, arousal pooling between your legs as a slew of lewd words continue to spill from her mouth as she tweaks and pinches your nipple, the sharp sting of it shooting through your chest. "so many people in this house, and here you are, being so needy and wanting."

you bite your lip. "sevi, baby, we-- we shouldn't. I -- mmph, what if someone catches us?"

"no one will if you keep quiet." she lifts your sweater up, eyes practically gleaming at the sight of your tits. she ducks her head down, her mouth encircling one of your nipples, tongue lapping it gently, the warm wetness of it making your pussy ache. your tits are so sensitive, nipples hard and aching from the chill of the night, and the hot cavern of sevika's mouth is making you lost in the mix of temperatures and sensations. her tongue is so soft, gliding so easily over the bud. she skims her teeth along the edges, clamping a hand over your mouth before you can make any noise. 

"fuck, god," you whisper, hands digging into her hair as you keep her pressed to your chest. 

"pretty blasphemous of you to say during a holiday."

you glare at her for the playful comment, wrenching out of her hand’s grip on your face. "please, like you're even religious."

"I'd consider it if it gives me the authority to punish you."

"like you even require an authoritative position to do that."

her teeth sink into the soft flesh of your neck and you clamp your lips up together. "you've got a point there, baby." she scrapes her teeth gently down your neck, one of her thick fingers tugging down your sweater to suck a bruising mark into your chest. "you're my slut whenever, aren't you?"

with the way her mouth is lavishing attention on you, it's hard to continue being a brat with her. you want more of this, and you’re well aware that sevika possesses more than enough self-restraint to draw out your pleasure all night long if she so wishes it. even if she does have a boner pressed right up against your thigh. 

"mm, I am," you mumble against the crown of her head, her black hair tickling your lips as you stroke it. "I'm your slut, sevi."

"there you go. wasn't so hard, huh?" she pulls back, tugging on the bottom of your sweater. 

when you remove it, breasts bouncing out, sevika buries her face in your fully naked chest, licking and gnawing like a woman starved. your body arches up at the harshness of her touch, her large hand groping and pulling you into her mouth. your squirming causes your thigh to brush right up against her hard-on, and she grits her teeth at the contact.

"you're so hard, baby," you giggle, hand escaping to her crotch and cupping her through her flannel pajama pants (which, yes, totally match yours).

"fuck," she mutters, her head pressing into your chest. the moist heat of her panting gets your skin warm and toasty, and you shiver from the contrast of it to the rest of your body. "god, I've needed this."

"then, put it in, dumbass," you whisper, your words edged with soft laughter. 

a smirk cracks on sevika's face. "maybe I have been going too easy on you, since there's so much room for backtalk."

ugh, oh, no.

minutes later, both of your pants are tossed into some corner of your bedroom, sevika grinding her bare dick on your pussy. it's firm, hardened with arousal, and the more she presses against you, the more you drip, coating her dick with your juices. whenever it nudges against your swollen clit, you writhe in her embrace, tugging on the material of her sweater for more.

"sevi, please, please," you mumble against her lips, pressing mindless little pecks against them. 

she flicks her tongue along your mouth, breaths heavy. as much as she may try to act like this isn't affecting her, you can feel the tension coiling in her body and how hard she's trying to resist taking you. 

"tell me you've been bad. tell me why you deserve this." 

her mouth is curved into a wicked grin, clearly amused at having you cornered like this. she knows the length of her dick rubbing into the plush, soaked lips of your pussy isn’t nearly enough, and she's clearly determined to have you pathetic and begging before she goes inside.

"ugh," you groan, tossing an arm over your eyes. "fine, I've, um--"

she grips your wrist, pulling it away. "eyes on me."

you shoot her a glare -- well, at least as best as your can manage with the smooth skin of her stroking against your clit. forcing yourself to undergo the embarrassment of locking eyes with her, her amusement thinly veiled with the way her grey eyes are flashing, you continue. "I've been a bad girl. and I, uh, I deserve to be... fucked because, um, I've worked so hard this week and I'm so tired and so wound up and I-- fuck, sevi, I miss you, you idiot."

a huff of laughter quietly slides from her lips, and she pecks your chin. "have you now?"

"sevi, come on," you whine, digging your nails into her lower back, trying to pull her further into you. "I need it, please. sevi, please, I need it, daddy."

her eyes flutter shut at the title, hips jerking harder, which has you both biting back noises tantalizingly close to bursting from your mouths. "fuck, you're lucky you're cute."

she sits up on her knees and positions her dick, rubbing on some lube she snuck in from her suitcase (when she reveals the bottle to you, you grumble at the fact that she just knew she'd manage to convince you to fuck in here). inch by inch, the girth of her stretches out your hole, creating a pleasant, dull ache as your walls tighten around her, accommodating her size. through it, she rubs circles onto your clit, nodding quietly to encourage you on. if you were in the seclusion of your home, she'd be saying filthy words and praises, motivating you to take her in. but, in this position, where she's too far to whisper against your ear, all you get are her hushed words of, "okay?" and, "you ready for more?"

after you adjust, you yank sevika by her collar and she unceremoniously flops onto you, evoking a burst of laughter from you as she narrows her eyes at you, murmuring, "was that necessary?"

"mhm, I got to have pleasure and a comedy show."

she scoffs. "glad to be of service, I guess."

your giggles fade out as she meets your gaze, her pretty eyes soft and creased from the small smile on her face. you cup her face and bring her closer to you, gently kissing her. sevika returns the gesture, her lips amorous and slow as her cock, heavy in your hole, twitches. 

when you part, you whisper, "you gonna move or what?"

apparently, she isn’t in the mood for a challenge, for ten minutes later, she's pumping into you, your old headboard creaking and bumping lightly against the wall as sevika fucks you quietly. in your twin bed, the two of you are cramped up in the limited space, but you couldn't care less. you relish in being this close to your girlfriend, her strong arm wrapped around your body and holding you close to her as your guys’ skin smacks together, the sticky sweat produced from your efforts creating a wet squelch. 

"mmph, daddy," you whine against sevika's ear, nuzzling close to her face and biting on her ear, which ignites a sharp intake of breath from her. "feels so good."

"yeah, princess?" she rasps, her voice hushed. "you like feeling my dick split you open like this? getting fucked and keeping quiet so no one finds out what a slut you are?"

you dig your nails further into her back, raking them along the muscular length of it. her dick has you feeling so full, plugging your hole up in a weight that's so comfortable and familiar. the deep, satisfied ache flows through the entirety of your pussy, from the widened rim of your hole to your clit to your thighs, which are clenched tightly around her slim waist.  

"I'm your slut, daddy," you gasp against her ear. "I love being your slut, letting you fuck me till I'm filled with come."

"oh, yeah?" she chuckles. "is that what you want? for me to fuck my come into this tight little hole?"

"yes, yes, daddy." your hips buck up to meet hers, the pleasure making it hard to not flinch and jerk at the way it rolls through you. 

nasty little squelches roll through the room from the way your juices slosh around her dick, droplets slipping out every time her cock rocks out and only the tip is hugged by your entrance. when she pounds back into you, her balls smack against you, and the weight of them has you nearly squealing in pleasure, thoughts of how come-filled they are overtaking your brain. 

you wrap your legs around her, the lift of your hips causing the tip of her cock to hit your g-spot. the pointed curve of it nudging against the spongey softness has a deep, tingling sensation flooding your insides. your mouth hangs open, a small moan choking out of you. 

sevika, still thrusting into you, raises her head up and covers your mouth with hers, shoving her tongue in as your sweaty bodies push and pull together. she breathes out, "so fucking mouthy, even in bed."

you're so turned on that her bullying only has you tightening on her, which, of course, observant woman she is, immediately arouses an arch of her eyebrow. "does my girl like that? hearing about how you're such a noisy cumslut? just begging and babbling for some come to be leaking out of your pretty cunt?"

"f-fuck," you stumble over your words, head tossing into your pillow, eyes squeezing shut. "please, daddy, please, want it so bad."

"I know, baby, I know. give it to me, yeah?" she coaxes, her rough thumb beginning to stroke your stiff bud side to side, having mastered the pressure and speed that'd get you tipping over the edge. "wanna feel you milk it out of me."

"I will, I will!" your torso arches against her, tits rubbing the rough fabric of her stupid, patterned shirt. "m'gonna come so good for daddy."

"yeah, you will, gonna let your pussy latch onto all that come till these sheets are fucking drenched." she speeds up her thrusts, your mind going dizzy and weak at the mixed sensations of her pushes into your g-spot and fast flicks against your clit. "gonna be so fucking embarrassing tomorrow, to have to come up with some excuse for why these sheets are so nasty."

"it's your fault too!"

her voice, rough and heavy, is practically mesmerizing when combined with the surges of ecstasy shooting through your body. "guess I am just as bad, right? can't go too long without trying to get you knocked up."

those words are enough to shove your over the edge, your walls beginning to clamp down on her cock relentlessly as the tension in your stomach snaps, sending waves of hot, molten lust coursing through your body. you bite onto the material of sevika's clothing, muffled whines bursting from your lips as she continues rutting into you and rubbing insistently on your clit, tugging out more and more pleasure until you're sated and batting her hand away. meanwhile, she's shuddering on top of you, the sensation of your orgasm clearly taking its toll on her.

"please, please." you wrap your arms around her back, pliant and soft as the exhaustion of your orgasm wears you down. your pussy is sopping even more now, sevika's dick moving in and out with ease. "come, daddy. sevi, please. wanna feel how warm it is."

"fuck," she curses, her fingers digging hard into your waist. "gonna get you so loaded. gonna look like such a whore, leaving this trip nice and pregnant."

her words have your aftershocks heightened, your pussy clenching down on her cock again. the moment it happens, sevika's body jerks hard against yours, her last thrusts messy and running on pure instinct, deep and rough. she stills on the third one, her mouth falling open as she trembles, her come shooting into you, sticky and hot, coating your walls and making you feel entirely smeared and tainted.

you clutch onto her through it, your clit aching at the feeling of her load being pumped into you, streams of it leaking into your tight hole as she half-heartedly jerks into you a few more times. 

"shit," she mutters, her body heaving as she catches her breath. "that was good."

"good?" you ask, your lips quirking up. "you sound like you're talking about mittens."

she rolls her eyes. "sorry, was I supposed to pull out a dictionary to compliment our sex life?"

you look away, pouting. well, you aren't that demanding.

"baby," she murmurs, kissing your cheek. "it was amazing, alright?" she grunts softly, nuzzling into your neck. "you know it just makes me, you know, to say these things."

"I think the word you're looking for is 'shy,' sevi."

she clears her throat. "well, sure." a moment later, she looks up at you, her face pure magic when coated with the blue light wandering through your windows. "it was really fucking good, okay?"

a sudden shyness seizes at you, your lips curling up as your eyes dart away. "I'm glad. it was amazing for me too. it's just, I need to hear that, you know. from you."

"I know." another quiet kiss lands on your chin. "I'm trying for you. that's not gonna stop."

"you're sweet." you run a hand through her hair, pausing to look down at her, smile widening. "hope it didn't hurt your rep to hear that."

she snickers, though her lips curve up ever-so-slightly. "eh, my rep isn't that fragile. nothing a few words can break."

"true. you being pussydrunk is probably what'll break it."

"actually, I thought it's what'll break you."

you flick her forehead, giggling at the little pout she makes without realizing. "so cocky. at this rate, you're gonna get on the naughty list."

she hums, stroking your hips. "I already got my present, so it's okay."

your face warms at the tender words. "I got mine too." you tug on her hair, bringing her up for a kiss. "merry christmas, sevi."

she meets your lips with a smile.

[soleilapproves]

catalyst - chapter 5

Life has many twists and turns- yours included getting rejected from med school and ending up as a manager for your burnt-out pro boxer ex. (sukuna x fem!reader)

fanfic masterlist / main masterlist

The frantic knocking on your door made you jump out of bed. “Sukuna, what are you—is that blood?” The tall man moved past you. You rubbed your eyes and followed him to your bedroom, body warm and still delirious from sleep.

You tried to grab onto his arm to get him to look at you, but the man was swift with his movements, shuffling around the room in flashes of pink and red. His leather jacket hanging off of his lean and broad shoulders. “Sukuna, what’s wrong with your face? There’s blood everywhere.”

 “No time to answer. You still have my stuff, right?” You almost didn’t notice the duffle bag he was carrying. It seemed like he was going on a short trip. 

“Yeah, but what’s going on? Are you okay?” 

No answer. It was like he was in his own world, turning your closet-sized room into a hurricane while looking for his clothes. You felt like a lone tree standing within the storm, wavering with every gust of wind blowing through your branches. 

Sukuna hastily shoved in whatever was left of his things and finally turned to look at you. Eyes blank, face battered. “Let’s end this.” 

Your blood ran cold. Your roots were beginning to lift out of the ground. “What?” 

“Let’s break up. We haven’t seen each other for weeks anyway.” 

Your legs wobbled as you tried to navigate across the cobblestone, heels in hand, alcohol in your system. Everything was a blur after you ran away from the party. The last thing you remember is pushing Gojo’s smirking figure away while Sukuna calls you out. You couldn’t be near him. Not when he had been dangling a veil before you for so long. Underground fighter–when did he have the time to become one?

Seeking sanctuary in your old apartment was out of the question, considering that you had broken your lease to live with your ex/boss. So you decided to go to the next best place–the park next to Sukuna’s apartment complex, not near his space enough to be consumed by him but far away enough to comprehend the information you received. 

You ignored the sharp nips of the cold December wind against your bare arms. The park felt haunted. At least, in the summer, you could hear the loud chirps of cicadas and crickets, feeling like you had company even when alone. But now, you could only hear the eerie sway of the leafless trees. You had forgotten to pick up your coat in your flurry of emotions. You hugged yourself, trying not to cry over how miserable you felt. 

You thought being his girlfriend meant being important enough to know about his life's deep, intimate secrets, but apparently not. Not in his mind. Where your heart sought answers for his secretive behavior, there his mind pushed you further and further away. 

You were hoping it was all just a ploy to shield you from all the violence.

“Thank God, I thought Sukuna was finally going to experiment with his new punches on me,” a familiar voice said as you were enveloped in jacketed warmth. Yuuji plopped beside you on the bench you were sitting at and wrapped an arm around you. “I ran out from a party for you. What’s wrong?”

“Sukuna sent you after me?”

“Yeah, told me you ran away from the charity ball like some kind of Cinderella. I thought you’d be somewhere here since it’s so cold. Speaking of which, I should probably text him that you’re safe,” he answered as he pulled out his phone.

Conflicted. It’s all you’d been feeling since meeting him after so long. On one hand, you resented him for pushing you away with little to no explanation, and on the other, you felt warm with glee, knowing that he still intensely cared for you. It made you want to caress that oh-so-tense face of his. 

“I know you have many questions, and I can’t answer them all, but I will tell you one thing–these scars–” he points to the half-moon-shaped indents right beneath his bright eyes “–were caused by the people he was involved with in the past. He didn’t want the same thing to happen to you.” 

Your heart clenched deep inside your chest. Yuuji was only in high school two years ago. Who could do such a thing to a young boy? There was a newfound respect for him in your heart. Not many could keep that childlike innocence in them after experiencing something so traumatic, but Yuuji seemed like he was just fine, even if it may only be on the surface. The only blade you touched was a scalpel during your internship at your local hospital, and you seemed more uneasy than him. 

You wrapped a shaky arm around his shoulder and patted it with a maternal glint in your eye. Heart aching for the poor boy. “I’m sorry you had to grow up so soon.” 

“I’m fine. I’ve made up countless stories about these scars. It’s a good conversation starter with strangers.” His light-hearted chuckle made you stroke his head. Yuuji was like your little brother, too. You had basically raised him along with Sukuna, and he had grown into a fine young man. Understanding and emotionally intelligent. 

“Sukuna… had been thinking about coming clean for a long time. There are many things that you need to know, but it’s not my place to tell you everything.” 

It was hard to imagine Sukuna, of all people, to be so tense. The man was usually aloof. At least his past self was. Never did you consider him to be so marred by his past. 

“I’m gone an hour, and you’re already making moves on her?” You turn around to see Sukuna, disheveled, smooth tuxedo jacket in hand. The first few buttons of his shirt went back to being undone like it was earlier that evening, and his bowtie was back into its initial satin-string-like form. His hair looked like it had been run through a hundred times, and his face looked worse for wear. A frantic man in the flesh.

He yanks Yuuji’s jacket off your shoulders and replaces it with his. “I’ll give you a fifty to leave us alone.” You have to squeeze your legs to comfort the growing tension between them. Men with deep voices–no, Sukuna’s haphazard state was your weakness.

“I would’ve done it for free, but thanks for the extra cash!” Yuuji snatches away Sukuna’s jacket and jogs up to Sukuna’s building with a little pep in his step. “Weird kid,” Sukuna mumbles as he sits next to you, the sides of his muscular thighs pressed against yours, being explicit about his feelings. “More like a sweet kid, Sukuna.”

“You always coddled him too much.” 

“Couldn’t help it.” 

The silence that followed felt like holding a bottle full of lightning, glass confining something magical yet destructive. The lines between boss and ex-lover were already blurred, but at this moment, they felt nonexistent. You both were staring at each other through a chained fence–only it was made from thin cotton threads and not metal. You could smell the fence burning, each fiber of the fabric withering away as the flames consumed it and spat out ash. It was getting close to you both. You could feel its heat already. 

You could feel it in the heat of his gaze as he turned your shoulders to face him. “Let me start from the beginning.” You took a deep breath to brace yourself. The knot in your stomach told you that it was not going to be easy to hear his story. 

“It all started when I was working out at a friend’s gym. He liked boxing from time to time, and he introduced me to a few boxing clubs where I could earn extra cash by fighting locals. Nothing too crazy, just amateur fights. It helped me let out some steam and earn a little extra for Yuuji’s college fund.” 

His big hands squeezed your shoulders. “During one of my fights, I didn’t know that I had very important people watching me–the Zenin family.”

Your eyebrows rose in surprise. “Zenin- you mean the family who owns Zenin Construction Group?” 

“Yeah, they’re into sports gambling a lot. Boxing is just one of the pools they like to dip their feet in. The CEO or dad, Naobito Zenin, approached me after my fight to box for his ‘league.’ Little did I know it was just a team of brawny men who fought to the death in a musty basement so he could earn hundreds of thousands under the table. We, of course, also got a percentage of that. Not a lot, but it was still good money. Enough to pay for Yuuji’s first year. I could not let that chance go.” 

You immediately grabbed his hands and moved them to your lap instead, holding them in place–a practice you had followed since the beginning of your relationship for some of the few times Sukuna was ready to drop his guard. 

“Things were going well. You didn’t suspect much since we were barely meeting in person, and I was saving up enough. Until–” Sukuna gulped as his fists clenched in your manicured hands. Veins and bones popping up and again, reminding you about his sheer monstrous strength. 

“I nearly killed someone,” he rasped out. “It was the most terrifying moment of my life. Had me thinking how far I was ready to go for money.” 

Your heart sank in your chest. Your mind reeled about how often Sukuna probably had to make difficult decisions while fighting and how often it affected him. All of a sudden, in front of you, was sitting your lover from two years ago. A little skinnier, with a little more affection visible in his eyes. “Naobito wasn’t happy when I told him I didn’t want to box again because of that, so he attacked Yuuji. I was afraid you were next, so I knew I had to run away. I had to keep Yuuji safe, at least until he left for college. I was lucky that Coach Yaga was watching my matches. He let us stay with him and trained me professionally so I could actually learn how to use my gift.” 

Your mouth was dry. What could a person say after being told that they were abandoned for their own safety? Every sensation of guilt enveloped you in that moment. “Sukuna, I’m so–”

“No. You will not apologize for the shit I did. All of that happened because of me. I don’t want you to blame yourself for hating me. I fucked up.”

“Can you stop? Do you even hear yourself right now? You did what you had to do to keep yourself afloat. I’m proud of you and how far you’ve come. I just–I don’t know how you did it all by yourself. You must’ve felt so alone.” You put a hand on his face, and he leaned his face into your cold palm like it was a visceral need. Your skin burned at the feeling of his lips. His large hands moved to your elbows and dragged them to your wrists. 

“You have no idea. Every second away from you was torture,” he said before kissing the center of your palm. “Felt like I made myself go through all that for nothing. After we broke up, I realized that I needed you to survive. You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted to live for besides my brother.”

The thrumming in your chest was dizzying. Your breath hitched as he placed both each of your wrists on either side of his neck. It was almost laughable how easily he lifted you off the bench and onto his strong and firm thighs. He took your lack of objection and blushing face as acceptance and pulled you closer by your neck. 

“Give me one more chance. I promise I won’t keep anything from you. I’ll be better. I want to be better,” he whispered in your ear, the puffs of his warm breath making you shiver, leading you to scoot closer to him automatically. Body basically flat against his. Rugged, muscular planes against your softness. You don't miss how he caresses the side of your thigh.

He pulls back, and you see something other than regret–want. Well, more like need.

You wordlessly trace the harsh black strokes on his face. His eyes close as your fingers get closer to his lips. “I’ve missed you too—more than you know,” you whisper, breath mingling with his deep one. 

And for a moment, everything seems to stop. You can’t hear the eerie swaying of the trees, nor can you hear the mindless crackles of random flyers in the park or the distant rumbling of cars on the street. All you could hear was your lover’s deep breaths. Your hand went down to his chest to feel his heartbeat. 

Fast. Just like yours. You didn’t want this moment to end.

Feeling impatient, Sukuna slots his lips against yours. At first, his lips move against yours like he’s unsure if what’s happening is real—praying that the woman on his lap is not just his fantasy. But then he soon grows confident as your hands move to his scalp and mess up his carefully styled hairdo. You began to come undone, as his lips began to kiss you harder. His hands move around your body like it was his last time touching you. In that moment, he mentally thanked the opponent who thrashed him to immobility, or else he wouldn’t be having this moment with you–pressed up and bothered against him. 

He reluctantly pulled away as you used your forearms to slot yourself against him, catching your breath. But that wasn’t enough for the man, so he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug. “It’s been way too long since we’ve done this. Let me hold you a while.”

—

taglist: @sukubusss @kyo-kyo1 @kensqueent @totallygyomeiswife @missthatgirl @iluv-ace @emoedgylord @miakxn @sunasgf1 @lolilewenk @clp-84 @sodapop182 @therealjustpeachesback @msanimeotaku181 @aerareads @rebels-rewrite @emochosoluvr

[madschiavelique]

Hello, I don't have any idea for younger inexperienced halsin, but I have something that might interest you.

Imagine this, experienced Halsin x Inexperienced tav. But tav is so innocent, wants to do so well, but halsin has to control himself. Thus, halsin is the one being unknowingly (for tav) teased and flustered as he has to control himself, and not to frighten tav.

That's it. Flustered halsin.

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ pairing : halsin x inexperienced!reader

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ content warning : explicit, smut, more of a ramble than a specific scenario, feels more like headcanons even, fem!reader, no use of y/n

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ words : 585

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ author's note : omg anon yES!!! sorry it took me so long but arcane is back on my mind and i just had to get down to writing for viktor bbg

( not proofread, english is not my first language ☆)

Halsin had had many adventures over the centuries. He had experimented with a variety of ages, no doubt travelled the length and breadth of positions that could be taken, and tasted the pleasures of many different races.

And yet, despite all that, it was as if you had shaken every one of his foundations.

You never ceased to surprise him, you were so clinging to this idea of wanting to do the right thing that you were nervous at the drop of a hat. Halsin had reassured you extensively that he would never, ever do anything you didn't want him to do.

But you were curious, and he was pretty sure on Silvanus himself that your cuteness would be his undoing.

You were shy in the kisses you offered him without his having initiated them, watching him with gentle eyes as your gaze drifted to his lips and he had to do everything in his power not to tear every layer of clothing covering you.

There was an innocence and hesitation in the way you took his hand, touched him, said his name that drove him crazy.

The other night, when you were all gathered around the campfire, chatting about everything and nothing as usual at the end of the day, you were sitting on his lap. You laughed and listened to Gale's story that Astarion kept interjecting. You whispered in Halsin's ear a remark about the story that you didn't dare say out loud, and the simple sensation of your breath and your voice so low and close to his ear was enough to make him almost lose his composure.

And when you slept together when the nights were too cold and you embraced him during your pre-sleep chats, your fingers tracing affectionate caresses down his back, Halsin wondered if you were aware of the effects that your touch on that specific area was likely to cause. Then, when you finally fell asleep and he wrapped his arms around you like the big spoon that he was, you couldn't help moving your hips closer to his to get some of his warmth.

You had no idea of the effect you were having on him with your every move.

The first time you finally got down to business, you kept asking him questions, inevitably asking again and again: "Does that feel good?"

And Halsin had to restrain himself every time, answering as calmly as possible, "I don't think there is any way for me not to feel good with you right now, my heart."

But he remained patient, knowing that the more time passed, the more comfortable you would become, and therefore the more adventurous.

When you asked Halsin to teach you how to jerk him off and give him a blow job, he nearly turned into a bear. You asked lots of questions, testing the waters, touching him a little hesitantly, asking "Does that feel good? Can I touch you there?" so gently that he almost came right then and there.

He tried to contain himself, to stop himself from rutting without waiting as soon as he was inside you, your gummy walls so tight around his girth. He tried to contain himself when he saw you marked by his lips and teeth. He tried to contain himself when you said his name over and over in a voice laced with moans.

Holding on was almost impossible, but he was patient, he knew you would venture further. By Silvanus, was he eager for it.

[notbecauseofvictories]

50/50

Well, 2024 sure did...happen.

Anyway! I didn't set any sort of goal to watch 50 films and read 50 books this year, but that's where I ended up. Neither number is exactly accurate, and I'm leaving out television, revisiting what I've already read/watched, and all the ridiculous novels I pick up when I'm hungover, but still. I'm kind of impressed with myself. I didn't get to 50 books last year, and I don't think I've watched 50 movies in a year ever---but the more I watch them, the more I explore what they can do and communicate, the more I want to see. As a lifelong reader, it's interesting to explore a new kind of art, to try and intuit your way in through a strikingly different form of communicating the exact same humanness.

TOP FIVE 2024

FILMS

The Florida Project (2017)

Crimes of the Future (2022)

M (1931)

Something in the Dirt (2022)

We’re All Going to the World’s Fair (2021)

It's been months and months since I saw The Florida Project, and I still think about it. The bright and artificial sherbet coloring of it; the dank and mold and shadows that linger around the edges....Actually, I think of all these films in terms of their aesthetics first. Not that there wasn't a story there, but because they all represent such a marriage with form. Consider Crimes of the Future with its fading decay, its browns and rust; M with its stylized, refined cityscape even in the greyscale of 30s cinema; Something in the Dirt where every shot is mundane, or fantastical or both; and We're All Going to the World's Fair, with the particular blue-grey loneliness of the internet age. Surely the benefit of watching a movie (as opposed to anything else) is being presented with something to watch, and I like when directors and creative teams understand that.

Honorable mention to American Psycho (2000) since I'm still a little insane about it---or maybe Corsage (2022) because whether or not it was a good movie, it was nevertheless the most uncompromising, brutal portrait of a historical figure I've seen.

BOOKS

The Rehearsal, Eleanor Catton

Big Swiss, Jen Beagin

Vintner's Luck, Elizabeth Knox

Wylding Hall, Elizabeth Hand

Diavola, Jennifer Thorne

Some people may try to tell you that horror is a discrete genre---I am here to tell you that it's not. All great novels are horror stories, and those listed above especially. From The Rehearsal's self-important artistes, to the therapy-speak Millennials of Big Swiss, to the musicians of Wylding Hall (who miss every sign that Something Is Happening) and the Pace family of Diavola (who deny that the signs mean anything, even after fleeing their vacation home in the night)....all these novels are a study in people experiencing something painful, even terrible. And yet, that provides incredibly fertile territory for their authors to explore the things that come with horror---complicity, desire for closeness, narration and performance, the open wound of family, the thin netting of modernity that keeps us from plunging into something older and darker than we can comprehend.

The only exception might be Vintner's Luck. Not because it's not there as a theme, but because the novel itself spans the narrator's life. By the time he's middle-aged he's committed so many errors, he can't judge too harshly when others do. In this respect it's almost an answer to the questions horror poses---not just how do you survive this? but how do you go on, having survived that?

Honorable mention to Dead Inside, by Chandler Morrison, because it was stomach-turning in the very best way. Echoes of Cipher by Kathe Koja---when an author really knows, really understands, how to wield grossness without shirking or apologizing for it, the result is delightful.

Books of 2020 | Books of 2021 | Books of 2022 | Books of 2023

[macabrebatz]

GIFT EXCHANGE (Art the Clown/Reader)

Pt. 2 of O, Christmas Tree

Summary: You celebrate Christmas with Art

Author’s Note: Meant to post this on Christmas Day but I felt like crap. Hope you all enjoy a little late Christmas fluff. Happy holidays to everyone! Also thank you @hauntedfoodie for the this cute idea of exchanging gifts with Art!

Warnings/tags: Fluff, Art being Art, reader is filled with anxiety mainly due to Art, Vicky is briefly mentioned, gender neutral reader, spot the Scream reference, can be read as platonic or romantic to be honest, once again…are they roommates or lovers? You decide.

It had been a few weeks since Art had surprised you by decorating for Christmas. The tree he had gotten sat as a constant reminder of his rare but much-needed kindness.

Christmas was only in a few days. You couldn’t help but stare at the gifts below the tree. Your curiosity was getting the better of you.

At first, you had been very concerned about the gifts under the tree. What Art did was a kind gesture. Sure. But you knew Art. You knew the kind of being he was. You weren’t oblivious.

You’ve received presents from Art in the past. Presents is a strong word actually. What you had received was more of what you would call “evidence from a crime scene that Art most definitely caused wrapped up in a little box with a bow”.

However, your concern slowly dissipated when you found yourself examining the gift boxes early one morning. Art had wandered off, nowhere to be found. You had figured he was out on one of his usual sprees. Since you were alone you took the opportunity to sit in front of the tree, picking up each box.

There weren’t many which you saw as a good thing. If there were any body parts in them at least it wouldn’t be a lot.

You looked for anything that could be a sign of something gross or disturbing. No boxes were leaking any blood so that was a good start. None of the boxes smelled bad which was another good sign.

You picked up one of the black boxes, examining it with your hands. No blood, no smell. Much like the others.

You gave it a gentle shake and sighed in relief. For a moment you were scared that you might hear something crawling around in one of the boxes. You wouldn’t have been shocked if Art had snuck one of Vicky’s rats in the box to scare you.

You sat the box down with the others and a small smile spread across your face. You were still mentally preparing yourself. Just because he had opted out of body parts doesn’t mean that Art’s presents were going to be a joy to open. But you were still pleasantly surprised that the presents under the tree seemed fairly normal.

A few days passed and Christmas Eve was in full swing. Art had showed up at your house, covered in blood. The white trim of the Santa costume was no longer white. It wasn’t surprising to you. It was a routine at this point.

Art would leave for a prolonged amount of time, sometimes even days. Then he’d come to your house and you’d help clean him up. Despite his teeth and occasionally his hands, Art surprisingly seemed to like being clean after a long day of causing absolute mayhem. You would never fuss when he got blood all over your floor. And he would never put up a fuss when you lead him to the bathroom and put him in the shower.

Art had finished his shower before either of his costumes had dried all the way. You couldn’t convince him to wear anything different so he opted to roam around the house nude.

“Are you not cold?” You questioned.

He simply shook his head with a smile. You couldn’t help but giggle as he sauntered off.

Eventually, the suit was dry and you took it to Art, who got dressed.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” You asked the clown, watching him as he pulled his gloves onto his hand.

Art perked up and put his finger to his lips, tapping as if he were thinking of an answer. He grinned, nodding his head.

You both made your way to the living room and got comfortable on the couch. You found yourself watching multiple movies. A couple of Christmas classics and a couple of horror movies. Eventually, you found yourself drifting off to sleep, your head falling onto Art.

The next morning you woke up from your curled position on the couch, jumping at the sight of Art right in your face. He was sitting on the floor in front of you, silently staring at you with a smile on his face. On his head, he donned a Santa hat. You couldn’t help but wonder how long he had sat there like that. You weren’t fully sure if he even needed to sleep.

“Merry Christmas, Art.”

He stood up and grabbed your arms, pulling you up to a sitting position. He then walked over to the Christmas tree and picked up one of the black boxes under it.

Your stomach did a flip as he placed the box in your hands. It was rather light and it was wrapped up nicely with a little red bow on top.

Art sat down on the floor, crossing his legs. He patted his knees as he smiled at you.

All you could do was hope that whatever was in the box was normal as you hesitantly began unwrapping the box. Art was grinning ear to ear and you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

The wrapping paper dropped onto the floor as you began to open the box. Inside was crinkly, red paper that you pulled out of the box. Underneath was an oversized dark red sweater. You pulled it out slowly, holding it up to look at it. Your fingers ran over the material. It was a good-quality sweater. You weren’t sure how or where Art had gotten it. It wasn’t like he was the type to go shopping. But he was the type to take stuff. You shrugged off the mental image of Art taking it from one of his victims. It was best not to linger.

You held up the sweater and smiled. It didn’t really matter where he got it, you couldn’t believe that Art had gotten you something so nice.

“Thank you so much, Art,” you said.

You slid down off of the couch onto the floor in front of where he sat and leaned over to hug him. He excitedly embraced you back.

You pulled off of him and looked under the tree.

“Okay, you’re next,” you said.

Art made a shocked face as if he were going to say, “You got a present for me?”

You grabbed a red box you had put under the tree a few days ago and Art gleefully took it from your hands. He quickly ripped off the wrapping and opened the box revealing a Bowie knife with a shiny white handle.

Art flipped it around in his hand, testing the weight of it. He grinned as he slid his finger along the blade and poked the tip of his digit on the pointed end.

“I was watching this movie while you were gone and these killers had a knife like that. I thought you would like it. And then I may or may not have snuck into the workshop to see if you already had one. And you didn’t, which is surprising-”

Art caused you to stop rambling when he surprised you with a hug. He never stopped you from hugging him but it was rare that he initiated it. He wrapped his arms around you. It was his way of silently thanking you.

You pulled away from Art with a smile. You glanced at the presents under the tree.

“Ready for the next one?” you asked.

Art nodded, clapping his hands together excitedly.

From the outside, the situation you found yourself in was odd, to say the least. Maybe it was even a little concerning. Living with a murderous clown wasn’t really on your bucket list nor did you ever expect to be spending a holiday with one. But here you were, exchanging gifts with the Miles County Clown. But despite the absurdity of it all, maybe spending Christmas with him wasn’t so bad after all.

[arilevenatz]

You are

Pairing: pirate!jongho x town girl!reader

Genre: fluff

Word count: 9.6k

Warnings: Violence, kidnapping, abuse (not done by the boys) minor character death, jongho is a shy baby, lmk if I missed any!!

AN: I feel like screaming. This has been in my drafts for more than a year when the 'Everything' MV came out. The MV broke me and I was a crying mess. If y'all couldn't tell, my bias is jongho and I have seen that there are not that many good jongho fics in any platform. So I have taken the initiative. (Even tho idk if it's good or not) Anyway if y'all wanna be tagged just reply with your @ . AND please reblog and like it helps me a lot. I kinda fucked up the ending so y'all are free to imagine whatever the fuck y'all want

Nassau, an island which was claimed by the crew of Halazia. The ship was giant and very beautiful as well.

One slight issue,

It's a pirate ship

The pirates of the Halazia are the most feared of them all. They are known for not having any mercy towards any ship they come across.

Yes, even the ones with a white flag.

But Nassau is an island which is owned by them, so it is common for the people living near the harbor to see them come and go.

I, however lived further in the town, so I have never really seen them. Not that I want to as well. I'm scared they might kill me.

Though I doubt that will happen cause they have never really killed any innocent here in Nassau. Not that I've heard that is.

Waking was hard. Going to greet the family was harder. Answering their dumb questions was the hardest.

They say the youngest kid is always the most loved of them all. Not in our case.

We are big on family. And the worst part? We all live in the same plot, but in different houses. Me, being the youngest child in the house, I'm a personal punching bag.

Stuffs like "your brothers are doing so good, you need to follow them aswell" and "your brothers and sister have taken majors in science, you will too I hope" were normal to me.

Ever since I was young, my mom taught me.

If you wanna live in this house without getting called out every time, you have to fake a smile. Please everyone, child. Because of your father, you have to please everyone.

That was then, but now she has changed. She was forced to do so by these monsters in the name of people. I kinda miss her…

I heard my name being called. Looking at the source I saw my mom.

"I know you just woke up but, can you go to the port market and get us some things?"

"Mom, I just woke up..."

"Listen to your mom kid"

I looked at the source, great, my other aunt. Blinded by the pride of marrying a rich doctor, she thinks she is the head of the family, although she is the youngest sibling of my dad.

"yes yes, she will go, won't you kid?" her eyes pleaded to me, not wanting her child to be scolded in the morning.

"yes ma"

I took the money and left.

Being the youngest, I was always called "kid" or "child". It's weird I know, but i don't even care anymore.

The market's a bit far. I have to cross a little outskirt of a jungle. Though I don't have to cross the jungle, it's still a bit scary. But it's dawn, so it's alright right now.

After the jungle, a little walk by some alleyways and then it's the market!

The market was one of my favorite places to be in. Just look at it! It's so lively and colourful. It's so nice that it can make me forget about home for some time.

Ok let's check the list of items. Chili powder, parsley, biscuits and rum.

Hah! That stupid uncle of mine! How can he make a young girl like me buy alcohol early in the morning?!

I eventually got all the supplies and also got the rum. The shopkeeper was my dad's and uncles's friend so he gave me the rum I wanted, but I doubt he would've if he didn't know me. I mean come on, who gives alcohol to a young girl?!

"That will be ten bronze kid"

I handed him the money when suddenly I heard a high pitched laugh

"jongho, at least try to bargain once in your life! Do you or do you not want to save money??"

Looking in the direction, I saw two men. One has black hair, the other one has black and white hair.

What a strange hair colour...aren't his parents dissapointed?

Both of them are dressed in big tunics and black leather pants. The tunics loosely tucked in their pants.

"shopkeeper-nim, can we get this rum?"

The oreo guy handed the shopkeeper a note, seemingly a list.

"No mates, the last one was taken by this lady here"

He pointed at me. Damn dawg why you gotta throw me under the bus?

It was now when the two men looked at me.

"Aren't you too young to drink?"

"Land Ahoy!!!!"

The booming voice of the first mate who is also the quarter master, can be heard from below the deck. He had just spotted an island. Their island,

Nassau.

Beautiful island, with beautiful people and beautiful owners.

hehe

"Mingi, drop the anchor!"

"done!"

"captain, we need to scavenge", the quartermaster and first mate of Halazia, Seonghwa stated to their captain, the one and only, Hongjoong.

"I'm aware. Is the scavenger team ready?"

"I have already concerned Wooyoung, him and his team are ready to go"

"Good"

"Captain!"

The captain and quartermaster flinched by the voice of the surgeon.

"San! You unruly swine! What if the the captain got scared and let go of the helm?!", the quartermaster scolded the younger guy.

"Seonghwa do you mean that I get scared by small things?"

The two of the other males in the room nodded.

"all of you are scared cats"

"Bitch-"

All three males in the room flinch by the sudden intruder.

"Yunho, do you want me to order Yeosang to cut of your hair in your sleep?"

"Captain it was a joke!!"

"Anyways, captain, I came here to inform you that Mingi needs materials to fix the ship, however, he has work to do, so someone has to go on land with Wooyoung to get the supplies", San, the surgeon states.

The captain has now successfully ported the ship and now can let go of the helm. He turned to his crew and told them to follow him. And he went towards the maindeck.

"Send Jongho. He does not have any work for the time being"

"ok!"

San sprinted away almost in a comical way while muttering something which sounded suspiciously like a "smooth operator~"

The battlemaster was in the arms locker. The giant locker was home to weapons for the battlemaster as well as guns for the master gunner, Yunho.

The battlemaster, Jongho, was busy cleaning his swords. Call him a clean freak but he needs to clean all his swords and cutlasses. Not because he is a clean freak, it's cuz a certain someone will scold him if he does not.

"Do you wanna build a snowman?"

"San are you a child?"

The first mate gets inside the locker and sits beside the younger male.

"I am not, but I know a certain someone is though"

"You swine"

The crew of the Halazia is known as the scariest crew outside, but inside the ship, they all are one braincell sharing idiots.

"Anyways, captain ordered you to do to port and get some stuff with wooyoung-ie" The younger boy looked at the first mate with his boba eyes. "what stuff?"

"mingi needs some stuff to repair the broken and probably for his new invention and shit"

"Ok then”

“meat, coriander, honey, alcohol and maybe some broccoli for the soups"

"Wooyoung, why do you need alcohol? Are you gonna drink again?"

The cook of Halazia, wooyoung and the young battlemaster, jongho are set out for an adventure, an adventure to find the specific kind of alcohol for the surgeon of the ship, San.

"What? No! I am getting it because Sanie asked me to!

This morning, San had barged in the kitchen and asked wooyoung to get a special kind of rum, which helps to clean cuts.

Yeah the young boys have no idea how to find it…

"aren't you too young to drink?" jongho asked the girl they just came across in the shop.

The girl didn't say anything and just stayed silent.

"jongho-ya you scared the poor girl"

"No I did no-"

"you can have it"

Both the males looked at the young girl. She has her hand out and in her hand resides the rum bottle.

"You can have it"

"No no we ca-" jongho was cut of by wooyoung. "sure we'll take it! How much was it again?"

"ten bronze"

Wooyoung handed the girl ten bronze and was about to take off, but jongho held him back feeling guilty. I mean come on, the girl probably had her own hardships buying it, and then she got harassed by his hyung.

The younger guy went and handed 5 more bronze. The girl merely looked at his hand confused.

"sorry, he is just immature"

The girl however still remained silent and immobile.

Jongho waited a few seconds and then took the girl's hand and placed the coins there.

"thank you and...Sorry"

The girl looked at the coins and then looked at him. And then she said "I don't need these extra coins, but in return, you both have to go and buy the alcohol for me”

They do it for the girl. The two men are now inside another store, away from the previous. This store is the only other store which sells alcohol here in the port market. But the owner of this shop doesn't know your dad or uncle, so he will not give alcohol to her as she's a girl. So she cleverly asked the two men to go inside and buy it for her.

Wooyoung hands you the additional bottle of rum with a dramatic flourish, a smirk on his face. "Here you go, little one. Consider this our way of helping you out." He smiles at me, while Jongho looks on, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

You look at him giving you two bottles when you asked for one. “I only needed one tho.....”

"We added one more. Consider it a gift from us. Just... don't tell anyone we did this, alright? We'd be in real trouble if anyone knew” Wooyoung said as he put the bottles in your bag properly. You nod at him slightly.

Wooyoung smiles slightly at your nod "Smart girl. And hey... what's your name? I'm wooyoung, that's jongho. Seems like Nassau's been tough on you, hasn't it? If you ever need anything else-"

jongho slightly nudges him to stop and get back to work. He gently pushes Wooyoung aside before he can offer any more unsolicited kindness to the girl. The last thing they need right now is rumors spreading about us befriending locals.

Jongho shoots Wooyoung a warning look before turning his attention back to you "Remember what we said - keep quiet about this. And stay out of trouble, yeah? Nassau's not safe for little ones like you-" he catches himself realizing how condescending that sounded "-Like-”

“Little ones?” You were offended. You hated when someone called you little. It triggered you so much. You family calling you ‘kid’, ‘child’ was enough, you don't need these two weirdos calling you little.

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly "You know what I mean. Young. Innocent. Uninvolved in pirate life. Just... be careful, alright? We don't want anything happening to anyone”

You wanted to ask why they were so interested in pirate life but they were already turning back.

As Wooyoung and him walk away, jongho can't shake the feeling that he has made things awkward between them and the girl. He glances back over his shoulder, noticing her standing there, holding the extra bottle of rum like a precious treasure. "Woo, did you see that?”

Wooyoung follows his gaze, a thoughtful expression on his face "Aye, I did. She's a tough one, ain't she? For a little thing, she's got guts." He pauses, then adds in a lower tone

"And she's got a way of getting under your skin, too. Mark my words, Jongho - that girl's going to cause us trouble one day." He chuckles to himself, but there's a hint of seriousness beneath his words.

"Let's just hope it's the good kind of trouble.”

Back in the ship, the surgeon, San runs up to them, asking them what took them so long. Woo replied "we had to fight a little girl for the last bottle of rum”. San raises a concerned eyebrow.

“In what world do ‘little girl' and ‘rum’ co-operate in one sentence? That sounds highly inappropriate”

Jongho sighs and shakes his head disapprovingly at Wooyoung's exaggeration. "Don't go spreading tales now. We weren't fighting anyone." He glances at San with weary eyes. "Just... ran into a stubborn lady on an errand.”

San raises an eyebrow skeptically, but his lips twitch in amusement. "'Stubborn lady,' huh? Sounds like someone's been distracted by pretty eyes and a cute face." He teasingly pokes Jongho in the ribs.

Wooyoung covered his mouth with his hands dramatically and replied "no wonder he was not cold but gentle towards the girl. I knew you had it in you!”

Jongho rolls his eyes, trying to maintain his composure despite San's teasing. "Shut it, San. It's not like that. We just didn't want any trouble, that's all." He shoots Wooyoung a warning look, silently telling him to keep his mouth shut.

But it was true, he felt that those eyes held sadness. He has seen war, he has been in dilemmas and has fought with his inner urges. He knows what loneliness looks like. and he saw that in those girl's dull eyes. He stands on the deck watching the sunset paint the sky in fiery hues, but he can't help but replay the encounter with the girl in his mind. The ache in her eyes, the defiance in her stance - it echoes the battles he's fought within himself.

He remembers the way the girl stood her ground, refusing to back down even when faced with two grown pirates.

As the captain, Hongjoong managed more than just his crew; he also oversaw a network of loan sharks. These were the people he trusted with his money, providing them the means to distribute loans in exchange for a share of the profits. Now, it was time to settle. A meeting with the loan sharks of Nassau was pending, and Hongjoong intended to reclaim what was rightfully his.

Rather than meeting on neutral ground, Hongjoong and Seonghwa decided to summon the loan sharks to their ship. It was a calculated move, one that ensured the meeting would take place on their terms and under their control. (Hot men)

The captain’s quarters were cold and dark, the flickering lantern casting shadows across Hongjoong’s features. Seonghwa stood by the door, arms crossed and expression hard, his presence as commanding as the captain’s. The loan sharks shifted uneasily before them, knowing this was not a meeting to be taken lightly.

The lead shark hesitated before speaking, his voice shaking slightly. “Captain, there’s been… a complication.”

Hongjoong leaned forward, his eyes cold “A complication?” he repeated, his voice low and dangerous. “Explain.”

“A man we loaned money to—he fled,” the shark stammered. “Disappeared without paying a single coin. He left behind his wife and daughter in Nassau.”

Hongjoong’s jaw tightened, his fingers curling into a fist on the table. “And you let him run?”

“We didn’t know he would,” the shark blurted out, his words tumbling over each other. “He seemed reliable, Captain. A merchant with steady work. But one day, he was gone, just like that.”

“And the family?” Seonghwa cut in, his tone sharp and unforgiving.

“They’re still in Nassau,” the shark admitted. “The wife claims she doesn’t know where he went, and they’ve got nothing left. No way to repay the debt.”

Hongjoong’s gaze darkened. “You mean to tell me you came here with excuses, no money, and no solutions?”

The shark shrank back, sweat glistening on his forehead. “Captain, we—we thought we could pressure the wife. Maybe—” He hesitated, but Hongjoong’s glare pushed him to continue. “Maybe take their belongings or… use them to draw him out.”

The room fell silent. Seonghwa stepped forward, his voice like steel. “Use them?” he echoed, his lips curling into a cold smirk knowing what his captain will suggest next, “You’re suggesting we drag a woman and her child into this mess because you couldn’t do your job?”

The shark flinched, his voice barely a whisper. “It was just an idea.”

Hongjoong stood, the sudden movement making the shark jump. He leaned across the table, his voice venomous. “Ideas like that will get you killed. You don’t lay a hand on them unless I give the order. Do you understand me?”

The shark nodded frantically, his face pale. “Y-Yes, Captain.”

“But you will go back,” Hongjoong continued, his tone playful but colder now. “You will visit the wife, and you will remind her that the debt doesn’t disappear just because her husband ran. Make sure she understands this is her last chance to cooperate. If she knows where he is, she had better start talking.”

“And if she doesn’t?” the shark asked hesitantly.

Seonghwa’s smirk widened, but his eyes remained icy. “Then you make it clear what happens when people cross Captain Hongjoong. Let her know the weight of the debt will fall heavier if her husband doesn’t show his face soon.”

Hongjoong straightened, his eyes burning into the shark’s. “You don’t come back empty-handed again. Bring me the man, or bring me something of equal value. Do I make myself clear?”

The sharks nodded in unison, fear etched into their faces.

“Good,” Hongjoong said curtly. “Now get out of my sight.”

As the door slammed shut behind them, Seonghwa glanced at the captain. “You think the wife knows something?"

“If she does, fear will make her speak,” Hongjoong replied coldly. “And if she doesn’t, it’ll push the coward into the open. Either way, we get what we’re owed.”

He thinks for a second and then says “ you know what, I don't trust these parasites. Send a mule after them, give me every detail of what they do from now on”

The shark’s anger simmered as he stormed through the winding streets of Nassau. Hongjoong’s threats still echoed in his ears, and his humiliation burned deep. To him, the blame lay squarely with the woman and her child.

“They’ve made fools of us,” growled the shark, his fists clenched. “It’s her fault the captain’s breathing down our necks. If we can’t touch them, we’ll make sure she understands what it means to cross us.”

When he reached the small house with two of his acquaintances, they found it quiet and dimly lit. The lead shark pounded on the door with enough force to make the frame rattle. After a moment, the door creaked open, revealing the wife. Her face paled when she saw the sharks, but she held her ground.

“What do you want now?” she asked, her voice strong but trembling.

The lead shark sneered, pushing the door open wider. “Your lies have caused us enough trouble. We’re done playing games.”

She took a step back, clutching the edge of the door. “I’ve told you everything I know. My husband is gone. I can’t give you what I don’t have.”

Another shark, a burly man with a cruel glint in his eye, stepped forward. “Your daughter—where is she?”

“She’s not here,” the wife said quickly, fear flashing across her face. “She’s out.”

The lead shark smirked, leaning closer. “Good. That makes this easier.”

Before the wife could react, the sharks forced their way inside. She stumbled back, panic flooding her as they loomed over her.

“You’re coming with us,” the lead shark said coldly.

“You can’t do this,” she stammered, her voice breaking. “We’re not hurting you,” the burly shark replied with a twisted grin. “We’re just taking you somewhere else to have a little… conversation.”

Despite her protests, they grabbed her arms and dragged her out of the house, their grip firm but not brutal. She screamed and struggled, but no one was there as they hauled her through the streets and into the shadows of Nassau.

____

You push open the door to your house, expecting the usual comfort of your mother's voice or the warmth of a home filled with the scent of a meal being prepared. But instead, there was silence.

“Mom?” you call out, your voice echoing slightly. You set down the basket of bread and vegetables, but there’s no answer. The quiet stretches on, oppressive, like something’s wrong.

You move through the house, checking the rooms one by one, but it’s empty. There’s no sign of her. Panic starts to creep into your chest, tightening with each passing moment.

As you were looking, you felt someone cover your mouth in a vise-like grip as you trie to claw at him. His thick mustache curls upwards in a cruel sneer. "And what do we have here? The little birdie come back to her nest?”

You try hard to free yourself.

“You think you can run from us?” he sneered, shoving you forward with enough force to stumble you. “You and your mother have been causing enough trouble, little girl. But don’t worry, we’ll make sure you both learn your place soon enough.”

You kick his knees and manage to break free. Just as you reach for the door handle, a large hand cracks across your face, sending you stumbling down. Pain explodes across your cheek and you fall to the floor, dazed and crying. The man looms over you, his fist raised for another blow. "You little brat!”

"Stop!" The lead shark's voice barks out sharply, staying in the second man's hand mid-air. Through your terrified tears, you see him approaching you, his heavy boots thudding against the wooden floor.

“We don’t need more bruises on this pretty little face yet,” he says, his voice almost… amused. His hand lifts, but instead of striking, he just touches the side of your face, his fingers cold and rough against your skin.

You wince, instinctively trying to pull away, but his grip tightens, holding you in place. “Listen closely, little bird,” he continues, his voice dark and low. “We need you to understand something. Your father’s debt? It’s a problem. And we’re not leaving here until we get our money back.”

Your stomach churns at the mention of your father. You try to keep your voice steady, but it cracks. “I don’t know where he is.”

“Yeah, we know,” he replies with a dry laugh, his grip loosening just a little. “Your father’s a coward. He runs and leaves you two behind to clean up his mess.” He leans down, his face just inches from yours. “But that doesn’t matter. Captain Hongjoong’s been clear. We take what’s ours. And you?” His smirk widens. “You’re gonna help us make that happen.”

His words make your blood run cold. Hongjoong. You’d heard of him—his name was spoken with fear and respect, but never this way. They’re using your family as leverage, a pawn in their game, all because of your father’s debt.

“They need you to make sure your father gets the message,” the lead shark continues, standing back up, pacing slowly around you like a predator. “We can’t hurt you… yet. But we’re going to make sure you’re a reminder. Captain Hongjoong is waiting for results. And if that means bringing you along to make your father see reason, then that’s what we’ll do.”

Hongjoong sat in his quarters, staring at the report he had just received from the mule. His eyes narrowed as the words settled in. The sharks had gone against his direct orders, overstepping their boundaries, and now he had to deal with the consequences. The anger bubbled inside him, a sharp, cold rage that left no room for hesitation.

He stood up, the weight of his frustration pressing on him. He couldn’t allow anyone to defy him, especially not when it came to matters as serious as this. The sharks had been sent to handle the situation, to get back the money they were owed—but they’d taken it too far. Taking the girl and her mother? That wasn’t part of the deal.

Seonghwa, who had been standing nearby, watching his captain closely, didn’t need to ask what was wrong. He’d seen this side of Hongjoong before—when his calm, controlled demeanor slipped, and the storm beneath came to the surface.

“Prepare Jongho and Yunho,” Hongjoong said, his voice low but filled with authority. “I want them to investigate. I want to know exactly what those sharks did, and I want them to fix this. I’ll have no one undermining my orders.”

Seonghwa nodded, turning to leave, but Hongjoong stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Make sure it’s handled quietly,” Hongjoong added, his gaze steely. “We don’t need any more attention than we already have. And if they’ve done something unforgivable… make sure they know who’s in charge.”

Jongho, the Battle Master, was known for his strength and discipline. He’d follow orders without hesitation, but it was his ability to keep a level head in intense situations that Hongjoong trusted most. Yunho, the Master Gunner, had a sharp eye for details and a quick wit. Together with a few loyal crew members, they’d get to the bottom of this—and if the sharks had crossed a line, they’d deal with it swiftly.

Jongho and Yunho stood by the edge of the ship, the salty breeze tugging at their hair as they discussed their next move.

Yunho crossed his arms, leaning against the railing. “So, we’re going to investigate what those sharks did… and if they’ve really messed up, we’re supposed to clean up their mess?” He raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Jongho, standing beside him, shook his head with a chuckle. “Seems like it. I don’t think Captain Hongjoong’s happy that they went rogue. Taking the girl and her mother? That’s a whole new level of stupid.” He sighed, glancing out at the horizon.

“I mean, we’re talking about a bunch of thugs who can’t follow orders. What’s next? Are they going to steal the moon?”

Yunho snorted. “If they tried, I’d pay good money to see it. But seriously, jongho, this is a mess. We’ve got to figure out how to handle this without making it worse. The last thing we need is a full-blown war with the sharks because they couldn’t keep their hands to themselves.”

Jongho chuckled darkly. “Yeah, because Hongjoong’s ‘fixing problems quietly’ approach works out so well, right?” He paused. “Let’s just hope these sharks haven’t completely pissed him off. I don’t think even we could smooth things over if he’s really that angry.”

He then grinned. “I’ll make sure to bring some extra bandages, just in case.”

Yunho shot him a sideways glance. “What, you think we’re going to knock some sense into them with our fists?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Jongho replied, giving him a smile. “Though, I prefer it when the problem just gets solved with a good ol' conversation. You know, like ‘Hey, don’t take the girl, or I’ll break your legs.’”

Yunho let out a dry laugh. “Sounds like a great ‘conversation’ to me.”

He then smirked at jongho and said, “But you know, I’m always ready to put some holes in bastards. Let’s get to work.” (See what I did there? ⁠ ͡⁠°⁠ ͜⁠ʖ⁠ ͡⁠° )

The air was thick with tension as Jongho and Yunho made their way to the den. They had gathered all the intel they needed and were now ready to end this. The sharp tang of saltwater in the air mixed with the musty, oppressive smell of the building, and Jongho’s grip tightened around the hilt of his sword.

“You ready?” Yunho asked, his voice low, scanning the area.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Jongho replied, his tone steadier than he felt. They moved quickly, slipping through the shadows toward the back entrance of the den. The door creaked open under Jongho’s steady push, and they silently entered.

Jongho and Yunho moved like shadows, circling around the room, eyes scanning for the girl. The moment their eyes met, Jongho felt his heart stop. There she was—tied to a chair, her head lowered. Her breathing was shallow, and her hands were bound tight, but she was alive. She looked up at him, her eyes widening.

Jongho felt his chest tighten. He was shocked. Not because this was her. The same girl he had seen in the market, and now here she was, in the middle of this chaos, helpless. But because he still remembered her vividly. He has never remembered anyone's face other than ill intent. This made his heart do something he didn't like.

He was about to rush forward when Yunho grabbed his arm. “Stay focused,” Yunho muttered, his eyes scanning the sharks. “We’ll get her, but we need to take them down first.”

Jongho nodded, his heart racing. He knew Yunho was right—they couldn’t let their guard down. The sharks were too dangerous, and they had to be neutralized quickly.

In one fluid motion, Yunho drew his gun and fired, sending one of the sharks crashing to the ground. The noise startled the rest of the men, and chaos erupted. Jongho lunged forward, his sword cutting through the air with precision. Each swing was met with resistance, but he wasn’t slowing down.

The fight was quick but brutal, the room filled with the sounds of swords clashing and bodies hitting the ground. Jongho’s eyes searched the girl, and as soon as the last shark was down, he rushed to her side.

“Hold on,” he said, his voice softer now, as he cut through her ropes. She winced slightly as he freed her wrists, but she didn’t say a word—her eyes were locked on him, full of both fear and relief.

“You’re safe now,” Jongho said, his heart pounding as he helped her to her feet. But as he looked down at her, his heart skipped a beat. Her face was streaked with dried tears and blood, she had a busted lip and a bloodied injury on the side of her head. He realized then that this wasn’t just about the mission anymore. There was something about her that tugged at him, something deeper than just a rescue.

She looked up at him, her voice barely a whisper. “Who are you?”

Jongho smiled softly, trying to mask the sudden rush of emotions flooding through him. “Jongho. Battle Master on Captain Hongjoong’s ship.”

Her eyes flickered with recognition. “You… you were at the market.” She hesitated, her voice uncertain. “You… you’re a pirate? Of the Halazia”

Jongho nodded, his heart tightening. “We’re here to get you out of this mess. But right now, we need to move fast.”

She looked around, “But my mom-”

“Yunho will take care of that”

Before she could respond, they heard footsteps approaching. Yunho’s voice was low and urgent. “Jongho, we’ve got to go, now!”

Jongho took her hand gently, pulling her toward the door. As they ran, he couldn’t shake the feeling that his heart had just made a decision he wasn’t sure he was ready for. He had come here to do a job, to rescue her and get out. But somewhere in that chaotic moment, he realized he wanted to protect her.

The door slammed open, and they ran out into the night. Behind them, the sounds of pursuit echoed, but Jongho didn’t care. He would protect her. No matter what it took.

You settled back into the familiarity of home, the creaking of the old wooden floors and the comforting hum of the market outside grounding you after the chaos of recent events. Life was quiet again, though a bit lonelier now. Your mother busied herself with building a shop, leaving you to wander between chores and stolen moments of peace.

Life aboard the ship was as chaotic as ever, but lately, the crew had found a new source of amusement—or annoyance, depending on who you asked.

“Jongho, will you sit down already?” Seonghwa groaned, throwing an exasperated glance at the younger man pacing the deck.

Jongho ignored him, his brow furrowed in thought as he muttered to himself. “I haven’t checked in on her in over a week. What if something’s happened? What if someone’s bothering her again?”

“Again with the girl,” Yunho drawled, leaning lazily against a barrel. “You’ve mentioned her three times today already. You’re worse than Hongjoong’s parrot.”

“Worse than his parrot?” Yeosang, the navigator, asked as he descended from the helm, a sly grin spreading across his face. “Now that’s saying something. I didn’t think anyone could top its constant squawking.”

“Maybe the parrot’s jealous,” Mingi, the boatswain, chimed in as he carried a coil of rope over his shoulder. He dropped it near the mast and turned to Jongho, his grin matching Yeosang’s. “Sounds like it’s got competition for Jongho’s attention.”

Hongjoong, seated at a small table nearby, raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He sipped his drink with a smirk, clearly enjoying the rare sight of Jongho being the center of everyone’s teasing. "I didn't even take my money from her for you"

"captain aren't you like one of the richest people in the 7 seas?" Someone grumbled.

“It’s not like that,” Jongho said firmly, shooting Yunho a glare before turning to Yeosang and Mingi. “She’s been through enough already. Someone has to make sure she’s alright.”

“Someone?” San chimed in, his grin wide. “Or you?”

“Let’s be real,” Wooyoung added with a dramatic sigh. “You don’t just want to make sure she’s safe. You’re attached. Admit it.”

“Sounds like attachment to me,” Yeosang agreed, leaning against the railing with an amused expression. “You’re practically obsessing.”

“I wouldn’t call it obsession,” Mingi said, tilting his head thoughtfully. “It’s more like…” He paused for dramatic effect, his grin widening.

“Infatuation.”

Jongho stopped pacing long enough to shoot them all a sharp look. “I’m doing my job. Protecting her is my responsibility.”

“Protecting her,” Seonghwa said, drawing out the words mockingly. “Or is it something more?”

“I don’t love her,” Jongho snapped, his tone final.

The crew burst into laughter, the sound echoing across the deck. Even Hongjoong let out a low chuckle, finally setting his drink down.

“If you don’t love her,” the captain said, leaning back in his chair, “then stop pacing around like a lovesick puppy. You’re throwing off the entire crew."

“Yeah,” Yunho added with a grin. “Even the parrot’s giving you side-eye at this point.”

Jongho opened his mouth to retort but found no words that would convince them otherwise. Instead, he huffed and crossed his arms, retreating to his post with an annoyed scowl.

Yeosang exchanged a glance with Mingi before smirking. “He’ll realize it eventually,” he said quietly.

“Or we’ll keep reminding him until he does,” Mingi replied with a chuckle.

As the laughter died down and the crew returned to their tasks. Jongho didn’t love her, he told himself. He was just… concerned. That was all. Yes, that's it.

It had been weeks since you’d last seen Jongho. You told yourself you shouldn’t expect him, that he had his own life aboard the ship, filled with duties and battles you couldn’t begin to imagine.

But some small, stubborn part of you always found your eyes drifting to the road outside, hoping to catch sight of him.

And then, one evening, as the sky blushed with the soft hues of sunset, you heard it—the measured, confident sound of boots against gravel. Your heart leapt before you could stop it, and you quickly wiped your hands on your apron, glancing toward the door just as his familiar silhouette appeared.

“Jongho,” you said, trying to sound calm though you could feel your pulse racing.

He nodded, stepping into the doorway. His eyes swept the room, taking in the tidy shelves and the faint scent of freshly baked bread. “Everything alright?” he asked, his tone steady, the same question he always asked.

You smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “It is now. Come in.”

He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing the invitation, but eventually stepped inside, his presence filling the small space effortlessly.

You poured him tea, the silence between you familiar and strangely comforting. He didn’t say much—he rarely did—but his quiet presence was enough. You found yourself telling him about the shop, how business had picked up again, and how you’d repaired the shutters just last week. He listened intently, his gaze steady, his attention making you feel like your words mattered.

When he finally rose to leave, you felt a pang of disappointment, though you didn’t say anything. He paused at the door, glancing back at you.

“I’ll check in again,” he said simply.

You nodded, your smile soft but genuine. “I’ll be here.”

And then he was gone, the sound of his boots fading into the evening air. You stood there for a moment, staring at the empty doorway, your heart inexplicably lighter.

You didn’t know why he kept coming back, and maybe he didn’t either. But you found yourself looking forward to his visits, to the way he made you feel seen and safe in a way no one else ever had. For now, that was enough.

The air outside buzzed with excitement, the faint sound of music and chatter from the central town festival reaching your small home. You stood at the window, peeking out at the vibrant colors of the decorations that dotted the streets beyond your view.

The door creaked open, and you turned to see Jongho stepping inside. His usual calm demeanor was in place, though his eyes flicked over you briefly, taking in the faint spark of longing in your expression.

“There’s a festival in town,” he said, his voice low but steady.

You nodded, brushing your hands on your skirt. “I know. I’ve always wanted to go, but…”

Your voice trailed off, and you glanced toward your mother, who stood nearby, watching the two of you.

Jongho followed your gaze, his brow furrowing slightly. “Why not?”

Your mother sighed, folding her arms. “She’s young, and festivals can be crowded, chaotic… dangerous. I can’t let her go alone.”

“I’ll take her,” Jongho said simply, as though the decision had already been made.

“You'd do that? Take me there?”

“Why not?”

Both you and your mother looked at him, surprised. He met your mother’s gaze evenly, his tone firm. “I’ll make sure she’s safe.”

Your mother hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line. Finally, she nodded, though she still seemed unsure. “Alright. But don’t let her out of your sight.”

A rush of excitement and nervousness bubbled up inside you as you grabbed your shawl. “Thank you, Jongho,” you said softly, your smile warm and genuine.

---

The town was alive with color and energy. Lanterns hung from every building, their soft glow casting a warm light over the cobblestone streets. Stalls lined the roads, selling everything from sweets to trinkets, and performers entertained small crowds with music and dancing.

Jongho stayed close to you, his presence a steady anchor in the lively chaos. His hand hovered near your back, guiding you through the crowd without a word.

“Where should we go first?” you asked, looking up at him.

He glanced around, his eyes scanning the stalls and performers. “Wherever you want.”

“I don't know, you choose”

“We can do whatever you want”

You look down a bit and think. You'd never been given choices. They were always made for you. You always felt pressure whenever someone said to choose something and at the end you just keep saying ‘whatever you want’.

You grinned, feeling a rare sense of freedom. Tugging gently on his sleeve, you led him to a stall selling candied apples. He didn’t protest when you bought one for yourself and insisted he try one too, but he informed you that he can't have sweet things.

You went around stall from stall, that's when you spotted a beautiful earring in one of the stalls. It was completely your style and pretty. You kept looking at it, that's when jongho noticed you looking somewhere.

“Where are you looking at?”

You look back at him and smile, “nothing.” Maybe I can ask mom to buy these next year, if we can come.

As the night went on, you wandered from one attraction to another. You laughed at a juggler’s clumsy tricks, marveled at the intricate designs of hand-painted fans, and even managed to coax Jongho into trying his hand at a ring toss game.

He didn’t win, but the sight of him concentrating so intently on the simple game made you laugh until your sides hurt.

“You’re enjoying this too much,” he muttered, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward in a faint smile.

“Maybe,” you teased, feeling more at ease with him than ever before.

When the night sky filled with stars, the two of you found a quieter spot on the edge of the festival grounds. You sat on a low stone wall, watching the festival bustling with people even though it was pretty late at night.

“Thank you,” you said after a while, your voice soft.

Jongho turned to look at you, his expression unreadable in the dim light. “For what?”

“For taking me here,” you said, meeting his gaze. “Looking out for me. You didn’t have to, but… it means a lot.”

He was silent for a moment, his eyes studying you. Then he nodded, his voice quiet but firm. “It’s no trouble.”

Back at the ship, Jongho returned to the bustling crew. The festival had left him with a strange feeling, one he couldn’t quite place.

“You’re back,” Yunho said, leaning against the mast with a grin. “How was your little outing?”

“It was fine,” Jongho replied curtly, brushing past him.

“Fine?” Wooyoung piped up, sidling up with a mischievous glint in his eye. “That’s all we get? Come on, did she hold your hand? Laugh at your jokes? Look at you like you’re her hero?”

“Wooyoung,” Jongho warned, his tone low.

But the teasing only grew as San joined in. “Admit it, you enjoyed yourself.”

Jongho shot them a glare that silenced most of their laughter, though their knowing looks didn’t fade.

He didn’t understand the pull he felt toward you, but one thing was clear: he would keep protecting you, no matter what. Anything beyond that… he wasn’t ready to think about it

The next time Jongho visited your home, it was early evening. The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting golden light over the small house. You were outside, tending to the small garden by the porch, when you noticed him approaching.

“Jongho,” you greeted, brushing dirt off your hands as you stood. His posture was straighter, and his hands were tucked behind his back.

“Hello,” he said, his voice calm as always, though his eyes briefly flickered down to the dirt smudged on your cheek.

“What brings you here?” you asked, tilting your head curiously.

He hesitated, glancing over his shoulder as though ensuring no one was watching. Then, clearing his throat, he brought his hand forward to reveal a small cloth-wrapped bundle.

You blinked at it, unsure of what it could be. “What’s this?”

“Just take it,” he said, his tone gruff, though he avoided your gaze as he extended the bundle toward you.

With a curious smile, you untied the cloth, your breath catching as the fabric fell away to reveal a pair of delicate earrings. They were simple yet elegant, their small gemstone pendants glinting in the light.

Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized them. “These… these were at the festival,” you murmured, tracing a finger over the smooth surface of one gem. “I saw them, but—”.

“You were staring at them right? That day?,” Jongho interrupted, his voice firm but quieter now. “Figured you might like them.”

Clutching the earrings tightly in your hand. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know,” he replied simply, meeting your gaze for a moment before looking away, almost as if he were embarrassed. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” you insisted, a soft laugh escaping you. “This is… this is the nicest thing anyone’s done for me.”

Jongho shifted awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t make a big deal out of it. Just thought you’d like them.”

Your fingers gently traced over the smooth gemstones on the earrings, the delicate sparkle catching the fading sunlight. “But…” you hesitated, looking up at Jongho, who stood there with his usual calm demeanor. “Aren’t these expensive?”

He tilted his head slightly, an almost amused glint in his eyes. “I’m rich,” he said matter-of-factly, as if that explained everything.

You blinked at him, surprised by his bluntness. “You’re what?”

“Rich,” he repeated, his tone steady, though there was the faintest hint of humor tugging at the corner of his lips. “Why does that surprise you? I'm part of the richest pirates in the seven seas. Do you not know?”

“I mean… you’re on a ship all the time,” you said, flustered. “You don’t exactly seem—”

“Seem what?” he cut in, raising an eyebrow.

“Like someone who’d buy earrings for a girl,” you finished, your cheeks warming.

Jongho crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. “I didn’t buy them for just anyone. I bought them for you. That’s different.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you clutched the earrings tighter, suddenly unsure of what to say.

“I told you, it’s no big deal,” he continued, his tone softening slightly. “You liked them, so I got them. Don’t think too much about it.”

You smiled despite yourself, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and something else you couldn’t quite name. “Thank you,” you said again, your voice quieter this time.

He nodded, the faintest trace of a smile on his face. “You’re welcome.”

As he turned to leave, you couldn’t help but call after him, “So, how rich are we talking?”

Jongho paused, glancing over his shoulder with a smirk that was so subtle you almost missed it. “Rich enough to buy the earrings and not think twice about it.”

You laughed softly as he walked away, your heart lighter than it had been in a long time.

Unknown to you, the poor boy had gone through the torment of his 7 brothers, who won't leave him alone. They teased him so much about the earrings that he almost almost threw one of them overboard.

The crew was always quick to notice anything out of the ordinary, and had clearly picked up on Jongho’s latest visit to your home.

“So,” Yunho started, leaning casually against a barrel as Jongho walked across the deck, “we heard about the earrings.”

Jongho paused, his jaw tightening slightly. “What about them?”

“Oh, nothing,” Wooyoung piped up, barely containing his grin. “Just that our stoic Jongho has a soft spot for a certain someone.”

San joined in, throwing an arm dramatically around Jongho’s shoulder. “You know, if you’re going to buy her gifts, why not go all out? Maybe a necklace next time? Or a whole jewelry set?”

Jongho shrugged off San’s arm, his expression unimpressed. “It was just a pair of earrings. Don’t make it a big deal.”

“A pair of earrings,” Seonghwa repeated, feigning shock. “Do you know how much effort that is? Choosing the right ones, paying for them…”

Yeosang, who rarely joined in on the teasing, leaned against the railing with a faint smirk. “I’m just curious how long it took you to pick them out. Did you stare at the stall for an hour?”

“He probably scared the vendor,” Mingi added, his laughter booming across the deck. “Standing there, glaring at the earrings until they wrapped them up for him.”

Even Hongjoong, who had been silently observing from his chair, chimed in with a sly smile. “So, Jongho, how does it feel to be the romantic of the group? Should we start calling you the ship’s Cupid?”

Jongho’s patience was clearly thinning, but his expression remained steady. “I’m not romantic. I just thought she’d like them. That’s it.”

Wooyoung clutched his chest dramatically, staggering back. “He thought she’d like them! Oh, it’s worse than we thought—he’s thinking about her!”

“That’s enough,” Jongho said firmly, though the slight pink tinge to his ears betrayed his frustration.

Yunho, ever the instigator, leaned closer with a mischievous grin. “You know, Jongho, if you keep this up, we might need to start a fund for all the gifts you’ll be buying her.”

Jongho shot him a sharp look. “You’re all lucky I don’t throw you overboard.”

The crew erupted into laughter, thoroughly enjoying themselves at Jongho’s expense. Despite his annoyance, Jongho couldn’t fully suppress a faint smile as he turned and walked away.

As the teasing continued behind him, one thought lingered in his mind: he didn’t regret buying the earrings, no matter how much they made fun of him. If it made you smile, it was worth every ounce of ridicule.

The laughter and teasing aboard the ship gradually subsided as the crew prepared for their next voyage. Supplies were loaded, sails checked, and the familiar hum of activity filled the air. But this time, there was an unspoken heaviness among them. They were leaving the port—and there was no telling when they’d return.

Jongho stood near the railing, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the town lay, now bathed in the golden light of the setting sun.

“She’ll be fine, you know,” Yunho said, walking up beside him and leaning against the railing.

Jongho didn’t respond immediately. His grip on the wood tightened slightly, his eyes scanning the distant rooftops as though he could catch a glimpse of you from here. “I know,” he said finally, though his tone lacked conviction.

Yunho chuckled softly. “You’re terrible at lying, Jongho. Especially to yourself.”

“Leave him be,” Seonghwa said, passing by with a small smirk. “He’s just sulking because he can’t buy her more earrings from the next town.”

“Maybe we should’ve taken her with us,” Wooyoung suggested with a mischievous grin, appearing on Jongho’s other side. “At least then, Jongho wouldn’t be moping around like a kicked puppy.”

Jongho shot him a warning look. “She’s safer at home.”

“True,” Mingi chimed in as he approached, slapping Jongho on the back. “But are you safer without her?”

The others burst into laughter, their voices carrying across the deck, but Jongho remained silent. His thoughts were already elsewhere—back at the small house where he’d left you.

Now, as the ship’s anchor was lifted and the sails unfurled, Jongho couldn’t help but glance back one last time. The town grew smaller in the distance, and with it, the little piece of peace he’d found there.

Everything had to come to an end, he reminded himself, but this end felt heavier than he’d expected. Even as the ship carried him further from the port, his thoughts lingered on you—on your quiet strength, your laughter, and the way your smile had made the world seem just a little brighter.

For now, all he could do was focus on the journey ahead and trust that fate would bring him back to you someday.

Their journey had been long and unpredictable, filled with danger, discovery, and the relentless pursuit of fortune. From navigating treacherous waters to encountering rival ships, every day aboard the ship demanded resilience and wit.

They'd charted unknown territories, bartered with distant towns, and clashed with pirates in battles that tested their mettle. The crew thrived on the adrenaline of their adventures, though the weight of uncertainty often hung over them.

For Jongho, the journey was a blur of responsibility and restlessness, his thoughts occasionally drifting to the little house by the port. Each victory and challenge brought them closer to returning, though they never knew when that day would come.

Now, after years away, the ship had finally docked, and their travels were behind them—for now.

The town felt both familiar and distant as Jongho and the crew disembarked after years at sea. Jongho’s eyes instinctively searched the streets, scanning for any sign of you. The house came into view quickly, and his steps faltered. It looked well-kept, the garden vibrant and alive, and the faint scent of baked goods wafted from an open window.

As he approached the door, he noticed a subtle change—a sign hung near the entrance: “Homemade Goods & Repairs.” His brow furrowed, curiosity rising.

He knocked lightly, and a familiar voice called out, “One moment!”

When you opened the door, your expression lit up instantly. “Jongho!”

You were different, older somehow, with a confidence in the way you stood. Your hands were dusted with flour, and there was a smudge of it on your cheek. But your smile was as bright as ever, and seeing it eased something in Jongho’s chest.

“You’re back,” you said warmly, stepping aside to let him in. “I wasn’t sure I’d see you again.”

“I didn’t expect to see this,” Jongho replied, motioning toward the bustling shop area. Shelves lined with jars of jams and pastries occupied one side, while the other side displayed tools and items neatly organized for repairs.

You chuckled, wiping your hands on your apron. “After my mom passed, I needed something to keep me busy. The shop helps, and it keeps me connected to the town. I do alright.”

Jongho nodded, glancing around. The place had a sense of order and life he hadn’t expected. “You’re running this by yourself?”

“For now,” you replied, smiling proudly. “The town’s been good to me. They keep me busy enough, and I like it that way.”

Jongho’s gaze lingered on you, and he couldn’t help but notice the resilience in your tone. You weren’t the fragile girl he’d left behind. You’d grown, thrived even, despite everything.

“You’ve done well,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with admiration.

Still, his heart felt heavy as he considered what lay ahead. The ship wouldn’t stay docked for long; it never did. His life was the sea—a life of unpredictability, danger, and adventure. But standing here, surrounded by the quiet hum of your shop, he wondered if there was room for something else.

“You’ve made a good life for yourself,” he said finally, his voice quieter than usual.

You nodded, leaning against the counter. “I have. It’s not always easy, but it’s mine.”

A silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken questions. He broke it first.

“I can’t ask you to leave this behind,” he said. “You’ve worked too hard to build it.”

Your brow furrowed as you studied him. “And you’re not ready to leave the sea.”

He shook his head. “That's all I’ve ever known.”

You stepped closer, your hand brushing against his arm. “Then don’t. You don’t have to choose, Jongho.”

He looked at you, confusion flickering across his face.

“You come and go,” you continued. “The sea is part of who you are, and I wouldn’t want to take that from you. But when you’re here, this can be home. If you want it to be.”

Home. The word hung in the air between you, and for the first time, Jongho felt a sense of calm he hadn’t known he was searching for.

“I don’t deserve that,” he said, his voice barely audible.

You smiled softly. “Maybe not. But it’s here anyway.”

Jongho was silent for a long moment, the weight of your words settling over him. He wanted to say more but wasn’t sure how. He wanted to ask you to come with him, to leave everything behind and sail with him, but he knew it wouldn’t be fair. You had your life here, and he couldn’t ask you to give that up for the uncertain life he led.

But then, without thinking, the words left his mouth, surprising even himself.

“Marry me.”

You froze, your eyes wide with shock. Jongho instantly regretted speaking before he’d thought it through. But he couldn’t take the words back now, and he didn’t want to.

He cleared his throat, trying to explain. “I know it sounds sudden, and I’m not asking you to give up your life here, but…” His voice faltered. “I don’t want to keep going back and forth, not anymore. I want you to be with me, always. Even when I’m out there on the sea. We could make it work, I know we could.”

You stared at him, your heart beating fast as you processed his words. The shock began to wear off, replaced by something warm and steady. Jongho had always been a protector to you, but hearing him say he wanted more—that he wanted to be with you no matter what—stirred something deep inside you.

You took a deep breath, the weight of his question settling on your chest. “Are you sure?” you asked quietly. “This isn’t just about wanting me close when it’s convenient for you?”

He shook his head, stepping closer. “No. I want all of you. Even when I’m gone. You’re the only thing that’s ever made me think about staying.”

You met his eyes, feeling the sincerity in his words. There was no doubt in your mind. “I’m not going anywhere,” you said, your voice steady now. “If you’re asking me to be part of your life, even with all the uncertainty, then yes. I’ll marry you.”

A smile spread across Jongho’s face, relief flooding through him. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this certain about anything. Without another word, he pulled you into a tight embrace, the promise of the future settling between you like a quiet promise.

The sea might still call to him, but now, he had something far more important to come back to. And this time, it wouldn’t be just a visit—it would be home.

[jeonscatalyst]

Whenever I see people scrambling to dismiss the possibility that Jimin and Jungkook might be more than friends by resorting to arguments like “They’re brothers” or “Jimin said Jungkook is like his brother,” I can’t help but feel perplexed.

It’s genuinely baffling to me because, what did you expect Jimin to say? “Jungkook is my lover”? The lack of awareness in such arguments is striking, and honestly a little disheartening especially when it’s clear that many of these people haven’t taken the time to understand even the basics of queer history, the reality of being closeted, or the necessity of concealing relationships to protect oneself and loved ones in the face of societal prejudice.

When people bring up these points, I find myself asking the question “When did Jimin and Jungkook officially come out as a couple?” The answer, of course, is they haven’t. So why would anyone expect them to act in ways that are only possible for people who are openly out? If our (Jikookers) speculations about them are correct, it’s likely they are still closeted and may even be hiding their relationship from close friends and family.

This opinion might be unpopular, especially among jikookers who believe that if Jimin and Jungkook are together, their families would undoubtedly know. But I don’t think it’s that simple. In my experience, coming out isn’t an easy or universal process. It’s deeply personal and often influenced by cultural, familial, and societal factors, particularly in environments where homophobia is pervasive. I’m not going to go into the nitty gritty of why I think their parents and families might not be looped in because for many, unless you’ve lived it, known someone who has, or experienced such societal pressures firsthand, it’s difficult to fully grasp the complexities involved……..So I truly don’t see them letting their parents and families in on things as easy as many people believe it would be.

I think Jimin and Jungkook present themselves to the world as they believe the world sees them: bandmates, friends, and “brothers” from the same town. This aligns with public expectations and offers them a layer of protection. So how else would people expect them to describe their relationship?

Some might argue that they could avoid using terms like “brother,” altogether but let’s be realistic here……it likely doesn’t bother them. They know they’re not actually brothers and probably don’t view each other in that way. What’s more, I doubt they have any desire to let the public into the deeply personal aspects of their lives. While there may be a part of them that wishes to be accepted and loved for who they truly are, they likely understand that this isn’t a viable option right now.

The fear of opening a Pandora’s box of judgment and backlash likely keeps them from revealing anything beyond the surface. If calling each other “brothers” or even something as absurd as “father and son” ensures the safety of their bond, they’ll do whatever it takes to protect themselves and their relationship. That, unfortunately is what closeting sometimes entails so before you rush into my inbox thinking you’ve got a gotcha moment, remember this.

I hope people come to realize that this situation is far more complex than it seems. It’s easy to oversimplify or underestimate the challenges Jimin and Jungkook and other closeted people in homophobic societies might face but it’s crucial to remember that not everyone shares the same privileges or cultural realities. Not every society or culture is as accepting as yours might be. Not everyone has the opportunity to live their truth openly and without fear. You may not understand their choices, and you might not even relate to their struggles, but that doesn’t give you the right to dismiss or minimize them simply because their experiences don’t mirror your own.

Empathy and understanding are essential. Respect the fact that their journey, whatever it may be, is shaped by circumstances most of us can’t begin to imagine.

[katerinaaqu]

Little question. I don't know if you've already been asked that before but what's your opinion on Penelope and her role in the Odyssey ?

I just hate it when people say she's boring or completely passive to the plot, or just a damsel for Odysseus. She's relevant in her own way too ! She ruled Ithaca in his absence, held off and schemed against suitors, all in respecting the ancient sacred laws. She's strong in her own subtle way.

Nope I haven't and I think it was about time too! Hahahaha! But even if I was, I am not asked by you so I would answer anyways! ^_^

To put it simply I find it straight out ridiculous whenever someone calls her that and whoever said that probably hasn't read the Odyssey or has read the most terrible translation to history of translation! Hahaha! Because there is nothing passive about Penelope's role in Ithaca. Even if on first sight looks like it, in reality it isn't if one thinks about it. Even her own role at the beginning of the Odyssey is either active or causing actions. To name a few:

The suitors waited for HER to choose one of them! Regardless of the way someone sees it and regardless of how they called for Telemachus to "send her to her father", they were sitting there waiting for HER to decide whom she should marry. It was obvious who was the one in charge in many ways.

Penelope calls for the challenge herself. Not only does she decide the way she would choose her future husband but also her wish was respected no matter how bizzare it was heard to their ears

She demands her own wedding gifts. She sends the suitors by manipulation to fetch her "wedding gifts" so that they will pay everything they ate back. And the suitors follow that. No matter what someone says it was Penelope the one to decide and call for it.

She confronts Antinous directly. She calls him a madman and a coward. She brings him before his responsibilities and she is not afraid to speak her mind.

She talks back to her husband. She keeps her posture till the recognition SHE decides is done. Odysseus also respects her wishes. He doesn't force his way on her when she says he should "sleep outside". Penelope obviously has authority on him the same way he has on her through her love for him and their mutual respect.

Odysseus expresses his admiration for Penelope many times over hearing her speak up and play everyone like a lyre to her bidding. He also trusts her with his story and he even comments on her mind knowing he can trust his wife with that.

Penelope is being patronized by goddess Athena herself. She is a goddess of action and activity (either war or craftsmanship as well as wit). Penelope qualifies to have her support even if Athena is mostly associated with heroes of mythology. The few exceptions of women she takes over is obvious that their qualities are as powerful as she herself is.

However the most obvious miss that people have is that they forget how Penelope was not just a queen. She was also regent! She was left in charge of the kingdom by Odysseus till her son was of age to rule!

My wife, it is not certain that all the well-armed Achaeans will return unharmed from Troy for it is said that the Trojans are strong fighters both in spear and at the drawing of the bow, they are excellent riders of swift horses and these are things that quickly will determine the outcome of any war. If a god does not return me home and I get lost at Troy, I leave everything to you to attend to and my mother and father in my place while I am away. And when our son grows a beard you can remarry if you want and leave back to your own house

(Translation by me)

Odysseus clearly leaves Penelope in charge of Ithaca in his place!

I am surprised how many people who ellegedly support "strong female characters" feel like Penelope is too passive and that she des nothing at all and is just sitting there. SHE LITERALLY RULED ITHACA by herself while raising her son AND potentially taking care of her in-laws given how Laertes at the end was emotionally unavailable and Anticlea was depressed and died or killed herself. And on top of that she had to take care of the suitors for almost 4 full years while being constantly pressured.

What a woman!

[t1red-twilight]

through the ages

part 3

content/warnings: gn!reader, spencer’s pov, season 4, angsty, past!spencelle, guilt, jealousy, crashout lol

notes: bring back men who yearn

word count: 3.1k

masterlist series masterlist s. r. masterlist

prev. part

the office was quiet. spencer showed up early, just as he always did. this was the only time he could hear the buzz of the electricity, and the soft thrum of the heating and cooling system. after setting his things down, spencer headed into the kitchenette to make a coffee.

he knew that pretty soon you’d be in, so he fashioned one for you as well. best case scenario, you’d be in when it had cooled down a little. you took your coffee sweet, but nowhere near as sweet as his was. “diabetes inducing,” you’d called it. he’d told you that type 2 diabetes would have to be triggered by many more habits than just his coffee consumption. you’d laughed, despite him not joking.

your desk was conjoined with his, a pane of glass separated them. he walked to your desk and set the coffee cup down and sat in his office chair. your mugs were part of a set: yours had a star pattern and his had moons. he had still taken the care to label both of them with your corresponding names.

by the time you had come in, it was a quarter to eight. you usually showed up at about this time, only ever held back if you missed your train or the traffic got bad on the off chance you took your car.

“spencer!” you exclaimed when you got to your desk. “thank you for the coffee! how are you doing this morning?” it was as if your voice physically brightened the room, alleviating the harsh led lights.

your voice was melodic, it rung in a way that scratched every itch in his brain. “it was no problem. it should be relatively warm by now.” he smiled, hoping his cheeks weren’t too red. he lifted his mug to his lips and sipped a mouthful of coffee.

oh, you had asked his how he was. he thumbed the corner of his mouth where a droplet remained, and answered your question. he gazed over the glass pane dividing you where you had sat. “i’m doing okay,” he stated.

“just okay?” you followed. one of your eyebrows quirked up, you smiled crookedly. the glint in your eye; ah, you were teasing him.

he took another sip of his coffee and set down his mug. “well, not enough has happened today to say whether today has been good or bad,“ he answered. you leaned back in your chair and smiled at his response. “also, are you free tonight? there’s a film screening that I wanted to go to. it’s in korean, and there isn’t a translation yet, but i can whisper a translation to you like i did last time. did you want to go with me?”

an apologetic look blossomed on your face. before you even spoke, spencer knew what your answer would be. “sorry, i have plans.” you paused, almost as if you were contemplating on if you should say the next part. “i have a date.” his heart dropped to his stomach. a date? of all things that could occupy your time it had to be a date?

spencer swallowed down the sinking feeling that grew inside him. he nodded before he spoke, trying desperately to hold onto his composure; you could not, under any circumstances find out about anything. “oh, okay. i’ll let you know how it goes, though.” he stretched his lips into a smile as casually as he could. “it should be a good one.“

you took a sip of the coffee he had made for you. “please do! next time i’ll definitely come with you,” you stated. your eyebrows were slightly pulled together, and your smile had dropped but not disappeared. it would’ve been much more desirable to melt into his office chair than look at the expression of remorse that you showed.

the paperwork that he was normally completed speedily glared up at him. typical office days usually droned on and on, but something about his earlier interaction with you set him off.

suddenly, the taking of the clock pounded in his ears. he couldn’t focus, and he was always good at focusing. what about your plans was setting him off?

the times new roman print stared at him, waiting for him to do something. the contrast of the black lettering on white background burned his eyes the longer he looked at it. the bustling sound of the office grated his ears.

he felt selfish for the feeling of surprise that swelled in him when you had stated that you had a date. he felt even worse when he had the brief hope that you wouldn’t have another date any time soon. there was a piece of him that wanted to spend every waking moment with you and another very real piece that just wanted you to be happy. perhaps he was merely biding his time until he wasn’t the most important relationship you had.

it was just a date, just one. two dates was not guaranteed, and a lifelong romantic relationship was definitely not guaranteed. memorized statistics assured him of that. this was fine, you’d go on your date and go to work and it’d be perfectly fine. but why did he even care that you had a date? It shouldn’t matter to him.

how dare he think he could have any opinion over your love life? your friendship meant a lot to him, and he knew that it meant a lot to you as well. slipping into a jealous insecure mindset would only hurt his friendship with you.

he looked again at his file. he had already completed one or two, and was midway through another. he could just go home and watch way too much doctor who and pass out on his couch once he finished his paperwork.

by lunchtime he had pushed down his downtrodden feelings in exchange for attempted apathy. it did not help that every time he looked up over the glass pane he saw you, dutifully accomplishing your paperwork.

your forehead crinkled and your lips pursed. you’d comment or ask questions regarding the case you were filling out every now and then and it didn’t seem you noticed his minor distress. as far as you were concerned you were just friends, best friends maybe.

liking you the way he did felt like betrayal, or even like he was lying. you saw him as a friend, he saw you as something else: the difference in this perception felt almost gross to him. he’d known you for a couple of years at this point and felt this way for most of it and everything had gone fine until now. so, hopefully he couple continue to shove his insecurity everything down until you were just his friend again.

-

spencer had decided not to go to the film festival at all. later, he met up with morgan, and derek had dragged him to a bar that wasn’t too far from the office.

he figured that it wasn’t worth it to go to the film festival if you couldn’t participate in his ideal activity, which was spending time with you. it didn’t take long for derek to realize that something was definitely up.

the two of them were sitting at the bar top, derek had an alcoholic drink in front of him, spencer was drinking a water. “all right. pretty boy, what’s up?” derek asked outright. this caught spencer off guard, as he was trying desperately to seem like everything was going perfectly okay.

“what do you mean?” spencer replied, his voice lowered. he avoided eye contact, but tried to keep his face as deadpan as possible. given their profession, obviously this wasn’t working. derek took note of his slump of his shoulders, and the pattern he was repeatedly tapping on the countertop.

derek rolled his eyes. in no way did spencer think derek was stupid, he just thought that he could maybe get away with facing the confrontation of how he was acting. realistically, it was only a matter of time before derek called him out.

derek leaned his head down, trying to catch spencer’s eye line. when he was unsuccessful, he returned to his laid-back position on the barstool, and rolled his eyes.

given that it was a six pm on a random wednesday, the bar filled or crowded. there was another man sitting at the bar for down, but he seemed to be minding his own business. there were a few other people, but no one worthy of note.

spencer picked up his glass and swallowed his water around. seeing as he wasn’t going to elaborate on how he was acting or how he was feeling, derek moved on. he had some clue as to why spencer was behaving the way he was, so he attempted to test the waters. “i heard that someone had a date today,” he stated. he raised his eyebrows slightly, trying to gauge spencer’s reaction.

spencer slumped further over the countertop. one hand raised to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose, but he dropped his hand as quickly as it had risen. jackpot.

“yeah. what about it?” spencer’s tone was stiff and standoffish. he said he set his cup down on the counter more harshly than he would’ve liked to. it was just a date. why did he even care? “i hope it goes well.”

derek worked an eyebrow up and denial, but spencer could not see it. he was still avoiding eye contact as best he could. few people knew him as well as you did, and derek was one of these people. it was clear to anyone viewing the interaction that spencer was upset, but it was especially clear to derek that spencer was especially downtrodden.

following elle leaving the bau, spencer had opened up to derek about his feelings, and the things that had happened between the two of them. spencer had firmly planted himself in the position that he would never feel that way about another person again. derek confirmed that he would surely find another person, and spencer vehemently rejected the idea.

spencer hadn’t been, well spencer, derek would have patted his back or rubbed his shoulders in sympathy. but, all he could do was provide comfort in the only way spencer excepted it. and, this was through quiet emotional support. they sat in silence for a couple more moments before derek spoke up again.

“are you sure about that?” any teasing down that he might’ve held had completely dissipated. maybe spencer wasn’t willing to admit to himself how he felt, but derek could see through him clearly like a freshly cleaned window.

if spencer was alone he might have cried. but the admission of tears would in some part be an admission of guilt for how he felt. it wasn’t right the way he felt, you were his friend. and he intended to keep it that way. spencer pondered over what he might say next.

“they deserve it. after everything they’ve been through i think they deserve to at least go on one good date,” he muttered. “or two, or three-“ he trailed off. his voice lowered as he uttered the next phrase. “and if they end up with a long-term partner, that’s all the better.” there was a slight flavor of sarcasm derek felt between the lines of with spencer was actually saying. and he would be lying too, if he said that it didn’t catch him a little bit off guard.

derek didn’t respond for a moment after that. If he was being honest, he didn’t really know how to. usually spencer was pleasant, if not relatively soft spoken. well, soft spoken when he wasn’t dumping copious amounts of information on a random topic. over the past few years your habit of insisting on listening to exactly what spencer had to say rubbed off on the rest of the team. this had approved, extremely beneficial and high intensity situations. though, some team members refused to admit it.

silent glances amongst team members were exchanged when spencer had started making your coffee for you. or, when he brought in little trinkets and doodads when he went on paid leave to visit his mother. that wasn’t something anyone was really quite used to. there was a rhetorical acknowledgment of something that might be going on between the two of you.

spencer opened his mouth and closed it a few times. derek noticed this, and was shocked that spencer didn’t know what to say for once. “what if,” spencer mumbled. “there’s a part of me, a very small part of me,” he clarified, “that doesn’t…want their day to go exactly according to plan?”

he finally looked up at derek; and his expression was difficult to read. it was a mix of confusion, deep thought, and something hard to read. corner of derek’s mouth pulled up, but he wasn’t smiling nor adjusting. this was an expression that spencer was all too used to, but he deeply disliked. pity; something that seemed all too familiar to him.

“i think that’s all right.“ spencer took another step of his water, though it still remained quite untouched. “that’s how you feel. and I don’t think that there’s anything wrong with that.“

spencer looked up at him in puzzlement. this was not the answer that he had been expecting. he had been expecting to be chastised, for he should be happy for how his friend’s life was going. “they’re my best friend. i want them to be happy,” he finished, and he unmistakably meant it.

-

as soon as spencer had gotten home, he had knocked out like a light. the next morning at the office, he was later than he usually was. he didn’t like to be late, but the morning dragged on and on.

the train was a minute and thirty-seven seconds late, the people walking in front of him were way too slow, and most of all he just really did not want to come into work. coming into work meant he had to face you, and pretend like everything was fine.

he still made your coffee. just the way you liked it, like he did every morning. he set it on your desk next to your computer and got right to work. he had so much paperwork left over from the day previous that he had to get done. he saw you out of his periphery, and looked up and gave you as genuine a smile as he could.

“how are you doing this morning, spencer?” your inquiry was not similar to the ones you asked him every single morning. and just like every single morning, he responded with a similar answer.

he sat down his pen, took a sip of his coffee, and met your gaze. “i’m doing fine,” his voice easier to keep steady than it had been yesterday. he pulled a smile tautly across his lips. “i didn’t sleep very well last night, but that’s no big deal.”

you shot him a sympathetic gaze, before setting your things down and sitting down at your desk. “i’m sorry,” your replied.

the clear sheet in between you too provided relief; he could perhaps hide behind it and avoid looking at you.

the silence that was momentarily held was broken when you asked him a question. “how was that movie festival?” spencer instinctually fiddled with the wrist of his sweater. it was his favorite sweater, he hoped that it would help him relax more easily today.

he rested his hands atop one another on his desk, and looked at the space above your eyebrows. maybe you wouldn’t be able to tell that he wasn’t looking into your eyes, not exactly. “it was good!”he had waddled back and forth between the decision of telling you if he had gone or not. obviously, he settled on the latter.

it seemed like you were much too tired to catch on the small tells that he was lying, seeing as his voice had risen in tone and he was fiddling with his sweater sleeves. he knew when you knew that he was lying, your face held itself a certain way. in some ways, you were quite easy to read.

just the look of you made spencer’s stomach sink. he didn’t entirely know why, but he knew that it felt awful. “how was your date?” he said offhandedly as he could. he figured that that was something that he should ask.

your face lit up at the mention, and his stomach sunk even further. it was practically at his toes at this point. “it was good!” you chimed. He could tell that you were being honest, there was nothing in your face or your body that hinted that you were lying to say face. and anyway, you wouldn’t have done that. you wouldn’t lie to him.

be smiled a small smile. “that’s great! do you think you’ll go on another one?”

you thought briefly for a moment, before responding. “i think i will, we have a lot of common interest. he also has an affinity for science fiction. i think you might like him.” spencer was lost on how he should reply to this remark, surely he did not like science fiction as much as spencer did.

eventually, he settled on agreeing that science fiction was a great genre. he and your mystery man most definitely like the genre for separate reasons, but in this moment, he guessed that that didn’t matter. unfortunately, they had something in common.

the awkward nature of the conversation might’ve been lost to you, but it was not lost to spencer. he couldn’t help but feel sick at the small talk that he was being forced to endure in the moment.

finally, he felt what he had been wanting. relief. your date had gone well. you really, truly were deserving of good moments and good people. if, on the contrary, it had gone horribly awry he might’ve felt near violent.

spencer picked up his pen and continued to work on his files. he paused for a moment, and looked back up at you. he opened his mouth and closed it a couple times before deciding not to add anything else.

quickly he was drawn into his paperwork. the pencil scratched away against the paper at moore quick and paste than yesterday, and he was relieved that his mind had finally calmed.

before he could forget that this interaction ever happened, you handedly remarked some thing that he knew would stick with him, even though it was completely insignificant. “i might need help finding movies to watch with him. if we even get that far.”

if he agreed, he would have to learn more about this guy that he already had a distaste for. on the contrary, he would also spend more time with you. and there was no mistaking that he valued his time with you greatly.

“that’s what friends are for, right?”

next part

[atheneum-of-you]

would you be willing to expound a bit on how you see peoples monotheistic background influence their views of polytheism? I'd like to think that i've deconstructed my christian upbringing, but i'm always on the look out for ways i still need to heal and grow :)

Khaire, and gladly!

I'm planning to write a much longer post on the Christianization of modern hellenic polytheism, but for now I'll go over some cliff notes.

Shame, Guilt, and the Concept of Sin

I've seen MANY posts where people will be worried and afraid that they've somehow angered the gods in ways such as not being divinely good or "stepping out of line." This concept doesn't exist in hellenic polytheism, as the concept of sin isn't a part of it. While yes, there are ways to anger the gods, the only ways to do that is to step so far out of left field you might as well not even call yourself helpol if you do it.

Mythic Literalism

Many monotheistic religions require taking the holy book as sole fact with no nuance. Jesus walking on water, the immaculate conception, etc. However, in hellenic polytheism, it is to be understood that these myths are NOT to be taken as immediate fact and that there is angreat deal of cultural nuances and meanings behind them. One that comes to mind immediately is The Raping if Persephone. This story details a very real issue that was relevant in ancient Greece. Young women who's agency were taken and they were married off against their wills by their fathers. The story details a pained and sorrowful mother who stood up against the patriarchal hierarchy, and FORCED her daughter's father to accept her demands. And while she couldn't win the war (as ultimately her daughter remained in the marriage and away from her mother for a good portion of time), her winning the battle was enough to comfort many women and mothers in similar situations.

Understanding mythic literalism and the lack thereof is essential to hellenic polytheism, and is far less so if not at all prelevant in monotheistic religions. And many beginners come into hellenic polytheism with that same preconceived notion.

There's a lot more like research and worship and the lack thereof, the preconceived importance of titles, and prayers of generalities vs prayers of requests, but those are the little notes for now!

I hope that answered your question a bit and safe travels! ♡

[sulumuns-dootah]

26. 12. Asmodeus - Wrapped like a gift (18+)

     ༺☆༻

⟡ Masterlist ⟡ 

⋆꙳·❅‧The Yule festival of Hell 2‧❆ ₊⋆

A/N: The ending eludes to Y/N without a dick, but can be read even if you have one (just squint your eyes at one point)

‎‧₊˚✧ 18+ Minors Do Not Interact‎ ✧˚₊‧

     ༺☆༻

The more you walk through the Abaddon castle towards Asmodeus' rooms, the more your intuition tells you that you shouldn't. There's something really unnerving about the message he's sent you:

'Y/N! Come get your Christmas gift! You'll find it on my bed ;)'

The winking emoji already had you slightly suspicious and then when all your texts inquiring about more info of the gift's nature went unanswered, the feeling of you being set up to meet your doom really set in.

By the time you reach the master bedroom door, your heart is anxiously trying to beat its way out through your ribcage.

As you're about to knock on the heavy door, a note attached to the handle by a ribbon catches your attention. The writing is in the most beautiful cursive – presumably Asmo's handwriting.

'No need to knock, just enter. I'm waiting ;)'

That emoji again. You really should turn around and call one of the other kings to come and get you out of here, but instead you take a deep breath and reach out for the handle, like the note instructed.

Slowly opening the tall door, you first see a dimly lit room full of lit candles. Stepping into the room, you see more and more of them until finally, your eyes land on the centerpiece of the whole fire hazard.

The master bed is adorned by many satin-covered pillows, which look like they're glowing in the candle flame light. And there, amidst all the glowing fabric and scattered red rose petals is Asmodeus.

He's naked, kneeling and fully restrained with his hands securely bound behind his back by ribbons. A whimper of proud obedience leaves his gagged mouth as your eyes scan his form from the top of his pitch black hair all the way down to the bow tied around the base of his very hard dick with the words 'Free use' above it in a similar fashion to Beelzebub's tattoos.

“A-asmo...?!” you exclaim in a surprise and the demon cockily smiles around the ball in his mouth while thrusting a few times into the air as if to entice you to take the opportunity to do anything with him.

You're not gonna lie, this display ignites something dangerous inside you and you yourself don't really know what might happen in the next few hours.

Only after taking a few steps towards the bed while shedding all the extra layers you're not going to need for the rest of your time here, you notice all the laid out pleasure and/or pain toys.

“Nnnghh...~!” Asmodeus impatiently whimpers with his eyes slightly rolling back, as if just your presence was enough to get him off.

You take a deep breath, partially to calm your nerves but to also stop so many ideas popping up at once.

Standing a the foot of the bed, you contemplate your first course of action with some soft humming. One part of you wants to tease him until he's unable to take it anymore and the other wants to overstimulate him.

Another impatient groan with more pathetic air thrusts interrupts your decision-making and without even thinking, you pick up the leather whip and land a few hits on one of the demon's inner thighs, “Shush... I'm still deciding.”

“Haa~!” the sudden pain makes Asmodeus moan out as his dick twitches a few times, clearly becoming desperate for any sort of stimulation. It doesn't escape you that so little was already enough for him to start producing precum, which was now lazily running down his entire length and dripping underneath him onto the satin sheet.

“I wonder... What would happen if I just left you like this... All needy for me, expecting me to pounce on you, but I don't...” you question, more as a thinking out loud since he can't really answer you much.

'Then you'd make the biggest mistake, I'll take great joy in reminding you of all the time.' a threat in a playful tone enters your mind, sounding as if Asmodeus whispered it right into your ear. Judging by the cocky smirk that's molded around the plastic ball in his mouth, it was the demon talking to you in your head. Does that also mean he can read your thoughts, then?

“Hm...” you look back down at the array of toys at your disposal. A feather duster, candle with ligther, leather whip, chain attachment for the choker he's wearing, paddle, dagger and...

Finally, your eyes land on the strap on with an attachment resembling Asmo's very own throbbing length next to a strip of black satin – presumably intended to be a blindfold. A low chuckle vibrates in your throat as a very fun way to enjoy your gift comes into your mind.

With a swift movement you snatch the cold fabric and walk around the bed to kneel behind the nicely presented demon. A shaky breath leaves his gagged lips as you tie the blindfold around his eyes, but to his disappointment, after that you're immediately getting off the bed again and walking off.

He can't see it anymore, but you're actually putting on the harness and attaching the rather disproportionate dick onto your body. On the way back to your original position the chain lead catches your eye and you take it with you.

Asmo hates to admit it to himself, but being someone else's bitch excites him as long as it's you. Still, not being able to see makes him feel on a very thrilling edge. His hearing is good, but the way you're too quiet while moving around his room is a bit unnerving to him.

The demon's head whips to the side when you get back onto the bed. With a gentle hand you guide his chin up so you can attach the chain's clasp.

By pulling on the chain, you pull Asmodeus backwards until his head is on your shoulder as you whisper right into his ear, while rubbing your borrowed dick against his ass, “Tell me, bitchboy... Has anybody else ever given you a good prostate orgasm?”

     ༺☆༻

But wait, this demon also has a gift for you!

"Ahahah, my pretty little bitch... There's yet so much for you to experience and I am more than happy to guide you through all these new things, huhu..."

[hockybish]

hey hope you're doing well

I was wondering if you could write #55 from your prompt list where theirs an age gap where the reader is younger with Joseph Woll

thx love your writing

Hi Sweetie, Im good. I'm so sorry this is so late, I've been working on cross stitching Christmas presents and I've made myself sick from staying up too late.

Anyways. Enjoy! Let me know what you think

Just a Number

l Joseph Woll x Younger!Reader l Masterlist l

You looked pretty good.

Or at least that's what you thought with your makeup and hair done just right. You had your favorite pleather leggings on, and the best part of the whole outfit in your opinion was blue and white jersey with your boyfriend's last name on the nameplate.

You smoothed down the logo of the jersey to get a better look at the whole thing put together. You deemed it perfect and set off for the game.

Due to you busy school schedule and work this was the first Leafs game you were able to attend since the beginning of the season. It also just so happened that Joe was slated to start in goal that game.

It was perfect. Right?

The first time you heard some of the ladies saying things, you were minding your business the family room. You didn't know many people so you mainly kept to yourself.

That was until a couple of the wags found you and decided to introduce themselves.

"Are your here to watch your brother or something?" The one with the blonde hair snickered.

"No. I'm here supporting my boyfriend. He's p-playing tonight. He's the goalie." You smile.

"Joseph Woll is your boyfriend? Ha yeah right, you're a bit young for him don't you think? You're practically a baby." The other lady joined the conversation, continuing on with what felt like insults.

You were taken aback. You had no idea how to respond. Sure Joe was a bit older than you, but you were pretty sure you did the math correctly and it was totally socially acceptable for you to be someone who was six years older than you. Right?

"Also what are you wearing? It's a bit tacky and pick me to be wearing your boyfriend's jersey?" The blonde chimed in again.

You were always confident in your looks but them judging and making comments you made you question yourself and why Joe was even with you.

You were so out of it during the game, you hadn't noticed the Leafs won. That Joseph gave an amazing performace, even earning himself a shutout.

But you hadn't noticed any of that. Sure you had been going through the motions, cheering when the team scored or the goalie had made a big save. You were too consumed with other thoughts to comprehend what was actually going on around you.

"Hey Babe" Joe found after the game standing on to the side, you were looking at something interesting on the ground while hugging yourself.

When there wasn't an answer from you, Joe hooked his finger under your chin to lift it so you would face him. He leaned in to kiss you only to have you turn your head and his lips land on your cheek instead of your lips.

"Y/N, what's up?" He frowned sensing you weren't all there.

"Nothing. Can we just go home? Please?" You couldn't look at him but you couldn't hear the ladies from before laughing at you again.

He nodded. Joseph managed to pry a hand free so he could lead you to the car. A little ways into the drive he started in with the questions again. He was determined to get out of you what was up.

You were tight lipped, but somehow he was able to put a crack in your defense.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

"Do you ever think maybe I'm too young for you? It's a pretty big gap between twenty and twenty six. And maybe it's too big of an age gap. I'm just a baby after all. An inexperienced baby."

"Where is this coming from?" Joseph

"I- I don't know. I was just thinking."

"Well I don't care about age, it's just a number. I think you're perfect just the way you are. We're learning together." He tried his best reassuring you, by saying all the typical things people say when posed with the big age question. It wasn't makig you feel better.

"Plus if your really worried about it. Do the age equation. You know take your age divide by two add seven or your age minus seven times two." He urged you to find the range.

"20 and 26"

"Exactly! We're just the right age for each other." He reached over to take your hand.

"You mean we're skirting on the edge. If you were born one year earlier and I one year later, it wouldn't big of a gap."

Joe sighed heavily. There was no winning with you. "But we weren't. We're just right. I promise. Please" He could feel he was losing you. He didn't want that at all. He loved you.

"Can you just take me home?"

"That's a perfect idea, we can -"

"No Joe. I want to be myself right now" You turned away from the man you loved, letting go of his hand in the process.

--

A couple of weeks had passed since you had asked Joseph to drop you off at your apartment and then proceeded to ghost him. In that time you had gotten a couple dozen phone call, voicemails, and text messages from the overly concerned man.

In that time Joe had gotten the message that the two of you were over. He didn't understand why. He wanted a chance to talk to you and would do anything to get that chance. Even asking for the things that he left at your place that he really didn't care about.

Joe was the only one to speak when you handed over the Maple Leafs hoodie that he absolutely needed back. "Can I ask what happened?"

"Joe" You pleaded.

"Y/N, please, I think you owe me that much. Because everything had been going great and then something happened that night of that game. Was it me? Did I do something?"

"No. You could never do anything wrong. It wasn't you, it is me" You sigh quickly deciding to tell him everything that had happened that night. Everything that had been said to you and everything you had overheard.

"None of that is true. I don't think you're too young, or a baby. You, Y/N Y/L/N are perfect. I don't care what you wear to games, dress up, jersey, I don't care."

If he remembered correctly that night he thought you looked hot as hell wearing his jersey, and he was kinda hoping to fuck you while you were wearing it.

"I would like another chance. Please let me show you are perfect the way you are. That age is just a number." Joe let you know.

"I know this is a bad idea, but I want it so much" You bite your lip. Joe was here and looking rather scrumptious as always. This was bad.

"Do whatever you want, Y/N, the ball is in your court."

You take a quick look on either side of the to make sure none of your nosey neighbors happen to be in the hallway. They didn't need to see what you were about do. Thank god the coast was clear.

What happened next was a bit of a blur. You don't really think. You grab onto Joe's shirt, pulling him into your apartment. Once he clears the door, you crash your lips against his.

Joe fumbles with the hem of your shirt waiting for your word to go any further, the Lego roses he had made for you now decorated the floor in pieces.

Maybe this was a bad idea. Sure Joseph was a bit older than you, but age is really just a silly number. You're both adults and you really did love him.

[sunny374940]

I am yours

So this is just a short snippet where Emmrich gets flowers from Rook. I had to look up plant lore to write this :D

Here on ao3

“Hey, Emmrich, got a minute?” Rook once again burst into Emmrich's study without so much as a knock. Though the distraction was a welcome one, as he had been stuck reading the same page for the last five minutes, not really comprehending the words. He needed a break.

“For you, darling, always,” he answered, standing up from his desk.

“Great,” Rook smiled at him, drawing him in for a kiss before continuing. “Would you meet me at the Memorial Gardens tonight? There's something I wanted to show you.”

Emmrich raised an eyebrow in question, but that seemed to be all the information Rook was willing to give.

“I will be there,” he said. And there were his plans for the afternoon - he would spend it wondering just what Rook was going to drag him into.

When Emmrich arrived at the gardens, Rook was already there, pacing back and forth. He almost seemed nervous, but smiled brightly when he saw Emmrich approach and rushed to kiss him in greeting. When they parted, Rook was just a little bit breathless and it was still one of Emmrich's favorite sights.

“Will you close your eyes for me?” Rook asked with a shy smile.

“Rook, isn't that a bit, well, juvenile?”

“Please?” He looked so hopeful that Emmrich couldn't find it in himself to decline.

“Very well, but you are taking full responsibility for any stubbed toes.”

Rook waited until his eyes were closed and then he took him gently by the arm, leading him along the winding paths of the gardens. They stopped at last, and Rook's hand left him.

“You can open your eyes now.”

He did as he was asked and his hand flew to his mouth as he took in the sight before him. There was a table set for two, bathed in candlelight. And Rook was standing there, wearing that sheepish grin he always had when he was unsure of Emmrich's reaction. His hands were clasped behind his back and now he was bringing them forward and…he was holding flowers?

He could hardly remember the last time he'd been given flowers, though he'd always liked receiving them. He finally let his hand fall away from his mouth and took the flowers from Rook and his hands certainly weren't trembling, not at all. This was all a bit… much, if he was being honest. He realized Rook was talking to him.

“Remember when I told you I had a date planned to tell you how I felt? Before I almost died and you told me first and all that?”

Emmrich did remember. Especially the part where he nearly lost Rook, though he was glad it led him to confess his feelings. He nodded, waiting for Rook to continue.

“So this is it. I didn't want all that planning to go to waste, so… ta da!” he intoned playfully.

“Thank you, my dear. This is a lovely surprise.”

Emmrich brought the flowers closer to his face to enjoy their scent and to admire them properly. There was a lilac branch right in the middle (he remembered his favourite color!), surrounded by honeysuckle, a couple of red tulips and a great many forget-me-nots. Certainly not a very conventional choice of flowers, but Rook was anything but conventional. Why these flowers, though? Ah, but he was overthinking it, it was simply the season for them to bloom… or… did he know what he was doing by choosing these specifically? Knowledge long unused was coming back to light and his eyes widened as he realized-

“Darling, are you familiar with the language of flowers?” he asked tentatively.

“Um… not much, but Bellara and Lucanis know quite a lot. I asked them to help me pick the best ones to get the meaning across. Did we get it right?” he asked, looking almost worried, as if Emmrich hadn't been smitten already, as if there was any chance that picking the wrong flower would make Emmrich feel less for him. Emmrich glanced at the flowers again. They were conveying Rook's message loud and clear.

“I love you, you are my only, I am yours!” they seemed to be saying and Emmrich felt tears of joy form in his eyes and he couldn't stop himself from kissing Rook.

“Yes, you did, darling. And I love you too,“ he whispered against Rook's lips and then he claimed them with another kiss.

[slimybeth69]

Touch: Part 5

Rating: explicit (smut, language)

Summary: So... it's after you and Din talk...

tags: Angst, slight dub-con (I never know bc I would always fuck Din?), being mad as fuck at Din, how could he?, Din/Mando being a dumb stupid idiot, reader also being a dumb stupid idiot. Idiots in LOVE, mutual pining, then normal smut things (without spoilers to the chapter, sorry) SPOILERS TO The Book of Boba Fett and The Mandalorian.

a/n: I've said it before and I'll say it again. If you read this on ao3, no you fucking didn't. It's still unbeta'd, but proofread!! I did that this time!! I also am re-working the story slightly because I CAN.

a/n pt2: I don't know shit about Star Wars/ The Mandalorian. I did however spend an un-Makerly amount of time learning for all of us. If you're not well versed in the lore or the history of Star Wars/ The Mandalorian-- that's okay! This is Star Wars/ Mando for Beginners. (Also stating this as a warning for anyone well versed in the universe and the lore-- shhhhhhhhhhhhhh. DON'T COME FOR ME)

<- Previous Chapter Series Masterlist

The Jedi Code was taught to you. Engraved in your mind.

Harmony, serenity, peace and knowledge. The force. The lightside.

All the bad things; chaos, emotion, passion, ignorance, death.

The darkside. You learned to not fear the darkside, but instead to embrace the force.

Even though you didn’t have the maker forsaken force inside of you! Not even a litte bit! None of 'the force' had found its way into you!

Luke Skywalker and Ahsoka Tano trained you as if you did!

Why!?

They spent so much time building you from the ground up! They made sure you had muscles and could run for long distances. The pair trained you how to fight with your hands!

Your hands know how to use a lightsaber! That's not an easy feat, and it takes a long time to learn that skill.

Oh, how long? A really long time!

Two years!

Two long years without any sign of that man in the tin can outfit! He's never called, he's never come to visit!

Two. Fucking. Years.

Sometimes you hated Din for leaving you here but you very quickly remember that you asked for this. 

Wanted this more than anything.

Foolish!

You wanted so badly to make sure the child was cared for; the child was older than you are!

Much, much older! Not even a baby at all, but a toddler where he comes from. A very special toddler. A force sensitive toddler.

Coming here was a mistake! The only thing you do here is clean up the messes Grogu- that's the child's Maker forsaken name. He has a name!

Grogu makes messes, so you clean them, and get hit with sticks as some sick and twisted form of 'training'! It feels like a joke when they told you to 'block your face and important organs' and then started to pummel you with the hardest, most fast moving sticks you've ever seen!

Not having any amount of the force inside of you really makes training with Jedi's incredibly difficult! Grogu seemed to be having a blast training with Skywalker.

They trained differently, so unfortunately the two of you didn't see each other much, and when you did, your time with him was cut short.

The two of you grew up here a little, together while separated.

Luke and Ahsoka claimed that you babied him and it would impeed his training, so they kept you apart as much as they seemed humane. You became so very depressed without the child and Din.

All alone even though you were surrounded by so many people.

The nights that you got to spend with Grogu were usually spent laying under the stars outside the Jedi temple, speaking fondly of Din.

Mostly for the child's sake, because you only wonder if he had completely forgotten about you.

The answer to that question came when Luke came to Grogu with a gift. 

“A gift?” You say with a curled lip.

Have you not just spent all of your time here; learning the way of the Jedi? That was an attachment and you– in your two years becoming a mock Jedi– were weary. The darkside. The emotion. The attachments.

This was scary.

Luke held the gift in his hands while he spoke. You're subtlety looking for your gift but... you don't see one. Only one parcel.

Oh.

“This gift would be the end of both of your Jedi training, should he keep it. Attachments may not be had, by anyone.” Luke looks between the both of you as you stand before him.

Why is he looking at you!? You might stay at this temple and learn all the ways of the Jedi and become the most powerful non-force sensitive Jedi the galaxy has ever seen!

“You both have come so far, you have so much potential. Both of you.” Luke’s eyes fall on you. “I’ve been surprised before, but this was a pleasant one. Watching you both learn so much. I hope he both makes the choice that’s best for you.” Luke looks to Grogu and hands him the package wrapped in brown paper.

“Why couldn’t I stay if he wanted to leave?” You ask Luke. 

“You come with the child. You leave with the child.” Luke explains simply. 

Maker-- alright. You can’t argue with that. You don't have much to offer besides cleaning up the kid's messes. They're probably tired of watching you perfect the lightsaber.

You're actually pretty good.

Grogu glances up at you just as you look down at him. You kneel on one knee so you can be closer to him, and watch as his six little clawed fingers struggle with the twine wrapped around it, but he uses the Force.

“Cheater.” You whisper to him.

The gift is beskar. A piece of... Mandlaorian armor for Grogu. 

“ Mando said he can’t put it on until he sees you–” 

“M-Mando’s here?” You interrupt accidentally. Your heart begins to pound in your chest at the thought that you might actually be able to see him right now.

Luke gives you a knowing look, as if you should know better, and shakes his head from side to side.

“Ahsoka sent him away. It would interfere with your training. If you wish to stay here and train, continue to learn the Jedi way. You both have come far, but it’s nowhere near close to done. Accepting this would end that training.”

It’s a warning.

The energy in the room is so intense. You can feel electricity in the air almost. Grogu is still standing beside you, looking down at his own piece of beskar.

What’s he going to do?

Luke reaches into his robe.

Everyone here has all these hidden pockets for things in their clothes. You have a couple hidden pockets now too . For things you may need to hide and pull out in moments just like this one day. You hope. It’s so cool when they do that.

Luke hands Grogu a lightsaber. Grogu’s own lightsaber. 

“You have a choice, young padawan.” His gravelly voice rakes across your brain. 

It's so quiet for so long. 

Grogu touches the lightsaber softly. Admiring it. He did the same thing with the armor. 

So long you waited. Understandably, this was a hard choice.

Grogo picks the armor.

Grogu and yourself are on a ship to a hangar where Din is waiting for a response. Your knees are complete mudslides right now. They are not supporting you and they have two years of Jedi training behind them. They’re strong. 

The nerves got to them, though--ate away all the tendons you ever had and dissolved the muscle down to nothing.

Din had been on your mind every single day for two years, and he didn't even ask if YOU wanted to come back. Only Grogu! You feel like a fool sitting next to the tiny green toddler.

Where are you supposed to go when Din tells you that he doesn't need your services anymore!?

The ramp of the ship drops down and there is a cloud of dust. And then there he is. Standing at the base of the ramp, like he had been waiting for you two. Or apparently just Grogu. Since he’s the one who got the gift.

It’s fine. You’re fine. No attachments. Perfect. You’re basically a Jedi. 

Grogu, who is so much faster, so, so much faster than you ever remember him being, flings himself at Din, and attaches himself around his neck.

You watch in amusement, wishing you could do the same thing but you’re partially a Jedi now, so you keep your composure and walk down the ramp slowly. Your mouth is so dry, you don't even attempt to swallow because you know it'll just end in you choking.

Din hugs the child tightly. Their embrace is so sweet. So kind. It makes you smile so hard your cheeks hurt.

It makes your heart pang as well.

They hug for a long time before Grogu looks back at you, pulling away from Din’s neck. Grogu extends a curved hand to you. You suddenly feel a gentle pressure around your waist, and are being dragged forward, against your will, feet stumbling beneath you. 

You point your finger at Grogu. “Hey!” You shout. The pressure around your waist stops and you’re set back down on your feet carefully. “I told you to knock that off!"

This is Grogu’s new, fun game. Picking you up and putting you where he wants you. He hasn’t stopped doing it since he learned how.

Dropped you a couple times in the beginning. 

Din chuckles from under the helmet. “I see your relationship has changed quite a bit.” His flat rasp is the same as you remember it.  "He's the one carrying you around now,"

“It’s basically still the same. I have to yell at him for doing things he shouldn’t.” You scowl at Grogu, who hides himself behind Din's helmet.

“It’s nice to see you," Din's modulated voice is even and quiet. As if he doesn't want to say it at all.

That’s it. No hug. Nothing. Not even a handshake.

You could hit him. For several seconds you think about doing it.

Now your fist– with two years of Jedi training– and it might actually hurt him. It might hurt him a lot, and you’d feel good about it. So good.

"It's nice to see you, too."

The anger is pumping in your veins as he leads you through the hanger behind him. You look at all the ships, and look for the Crest but you don’t see it anywhere. Eventually Din stops in front of a ship much larger than the Crest. Bigger guns on it too. 

Din just stands there and looks at you with his stupid helmet shining in the bright light of the hangar. You don’t know what to do. He dropped you off on Ossus where the Jedi temple was, and didn't give you a hug. Not a pat on the shoulders. Literally nothing.

"Keep the kid out of trouble. You'll hear from me soon."

That's all Din had said before he and Grogu went to say their goodbyes!

"It's a new ship." Din points to the giant hunk of metal he’s standing in front of. His beskar looks exactly the same. Maybe a new scrape or two. A ding here or there but you’re not even looking. Not even paying attention to him. Trying not to. 

“Okay...” You resort to using your favorite word.

Why, Maker? Why can’t the man in the helmet speak? Is his helmet on mute? Always so fucking quiet. Until you don’t want him to be, then he won’t shut up.

Din leads you inside. Shows you the sleeping quarters. There are two beds. One for each of you.

There is a separate room for the child.

The dining room is nice and everything else is so nice. So much nicer than the Razor Crest. Even the cockpit you have no idea how to use. 

You look all around the hull like it's very interesting. This is so awkward. Not what you expected when you were on your way here. It's not like you expected a welcome back party. Maybe a hug. Something. 

"What happened to the Crest?" You ask, trying to avoid looking at him.

"It was destroyed."

The sleeping quarters are different from the Razor Crest. The beds are close together, but separated and welded to the floor so there is no way to move them closer together.

The mats that are nestled into the metal frames are thicker and much more plush than the one you had slept on for so long before you were banished away to the Jedi temple.

It’s fine. You’re fine. No emotion. No attachments. It’s all fine. 

The small bag that holds your very few belongings stays packed in case he doesn't plan on you staying very long. He could very well be headed right back to Cantonica to drop you back off at the Canto Bight Casino!

The three of you eat dinner in silence.

Din says not one word to you and you don't try and strike up the conversations like you used to. Things feel so different now, like the two of you are complete strangers all over again.

Grogu has changed in ways that are hard to describe. He's still a baby in your eyes even though he's older than you and Din.

The two of you play together on the floor while Din or maybe you should call him Mando again, since you barely know this man after two whole years, does something in the cockpit.

Grogu warbles and you watch all the new, fun things he can do with the Force that aren’t moving you unwillingly. It's the first real fun the two of you are able to have since being dropped off at the temple. You missed being able to play with him. You still snuggle him at the protests of Luke and Ahsoka-- how could you not when he climbs into your lap and cuddles into your arms.

Like he knew you couldn’t resist. 

Grogu can put himself to sleep now which is incredible, and that means you have time to do whatever you want.

So you’re in your bed with your nice new sheets. They’re soft. Like the ones on the Crest.

It’s dark here, too.

Maker, what in the stars?

The sun shields in this ship are no joke! There's no light at all. If you have to go to the bathroom, it’s just blind wishing that you don’t break you toes, or bump into a wall and potentially crack your skull. 

It feels like you were completely forgotten about in those two years and now, in the dark silence of your shared sleeping quarters you just want to cry...

An emotion!? After two years of strict Jedi code training---

There is a ten thousand degree warmth on your upper arm in the void, and it scares you half out of the bed. Your tops of your feet and knees are on the cool metal of the ships floor, and you're leaning against the side of the bed-frame like you are praying to Maker.

“I was going to see if you were sleeping," Din's rasping sounds-- happy to talk to you?

You're unsure. Nothing else about the way he's spoken to you, or treated you at all makes you think he wants to talk to you.

"That's not how you find out if someone's asleep!" You bark at him angrily.

"You're awake though.” A flat, unimpressed response to your outburst.

Maker, if you had your own helmet with night vision, you’d use all your new fun Jedi fighting tricks on him. You sure would, because who is he!? Who does he think he is!?

After two years he can come back and just throttle you awake in the dark like before? Nope. Not this time. 

“You’re lucky I can’t see you right now.” You say over the pounding heart in your chest. “So lucky-- What do you care if I'm awake in the night?! Let me sleep!” You’re so cold with him, mirroring him perfectly minus the emotion. “I’m tired.” You lie to him. 

In the usual Din fashion, he remains quiet. He still had his hand on your arm, and it's not like you really made an attempt to pull it away because it’s hot like you remember.. Burning you, he's so warm.

Din is also so fucking quiet! Maker! Is he okay?

“Tired?” Din’s voice rasps in the dark. "Then why aren't you sleeping?"

You realize the metal man has no grip on you whatsoever. He was just touching you very, very gently, and you easily could have pulled away at any moment.

So you you tug your arm away and you climb back into bed and face the opposite direction from him. "I was trying to sleep when you come over here-- shaking me in the darkness!"

“You…” Din trails off in the dark. “Still don't know the meaning of shake?” He questions you like a dumb idiot. 

"Get away from me!" You almost shout it. "Just leave me alone!" You humph, and pull the sheets over your shoulder.

"Are you... mad at me?"

“Are you kidding me!?” You whisper at him. “I don’t know how you could leave me out there for two years, and I get nothing!?” You sit up in your bed now and talk blindly in the dark. “Nothing. No visit. No calls. Nothing.” You cross your arms over your chest. "No gift!"

Din stays silent- which was predicted- so you carry on.

“But you get Grogu a gift, which was very sweet. Very cute armor, he is going to look very cute it in.” You think of the child dressed in the armor and it's kind of amusing and slightly distracting.

“Are you done?” Din’s stupid modulated voice rings out in the dark after a minute of you imagining an armored Grogu.

It's so dark and you still don't really know where he is, so with your accusing index finger pointing in the direction he could be in, you almost shout, “No! I’m not done!”

You are in fact, not done.

“They treated me like I had the Force in me. Do you know how hard that is when you don’t have the fucking force in you!?” You exclaim in exasperation, still pointing at him.

You start to speak again into the blinding darkness when a warm hand very gingerly moves your accusatory pointing finger eight inches to your right. 

“I figured I should at least be getting pointed at, if you’re going scold me,” Din rasps.

You die inside and wonder how dumb you look in the dark. “Why did you even bring me back? Hm? Why not just send me right back to the casino? Or is that where we’re going next? Gonna just drop me off? You even gonna land first or just let me duck and roll?” You huff, officially done with your rant. 

“Are you don-” Din starts, but you cut him off. 

“Yes!" You snap at him, and then you huff one more time for good measure. You're so angry with him.

So much for all your Jedi no emotion training. 

“I have a gift for you.” Din says flatly through the modulator. 

Oh.

“Well it’s so dark in here, so how would I know that?” You snip at him, not sure you’re fully ready to forgive him. You roll your eyes now. 

“Would you still like it? Or are you too upset with me?” Din’s modulated rasp asks you, sounding annoyed.

Why does he have a right to be annoyed? He could have given you that gift the minute you step foot of that return ship that brought you back to him.

Why wait until the darkness!? Why!?

“Yes, I would.” You hold your cupped hand out into the dark and feel something cold and hard fall into it. “It would be nice if I could –” 

The brightest beam of light you’ve ever encountered shines directly into your eyes. It’s blinding.

You jump again, out of bed because what the fuck is that!?

Is this an attack!?

What even is that light? Where is it coming from?

Thankfully, you wrapped your hand around the thing Din dropped into your hand so you didn't fling it into the abyss to never be seen again before you ever even got to look at it!

“Why are you on the floor?” Din asks, as you hold your free hand to your chest. You blink up at him, having to shield your eyes. 

“Are you the light right now!?” You question him squinting your eyes in its brightness. "Are you the one blinding me!?"

“Yes." Din dims the light tremendously somehow from within his helmet and now, it’s easier on the eyes. Like a candle flame. "Was it to bright?"

“It was too bright! I don’t think I’ll ever see again.” You snip softly, resting on the floor and putting your elbows on the bed. 

You inspect the small pink crystal in your hand. It takes you a couple seconds to realize what it is.

“Is this a kyber crystal?” You look up at Din who is knelt down on the other side of your bed.

He nods in the now pale light that's much easier on the eyes. “I got it on my travels. I thought that if you knew how to use a lightsaber, I’d get one for you. Put this crystal in it.” 

Maker. What is happening? 

“You thought of me?” You didn’t mean to say it. Part of you is still mad. 

“Everyday .” Din’s awe and amazement voice is back. “Di- Did you not think about me?” Just as quickly as that sweet familiar tone had shown up, it's gone just as fast. Din can' believe that you didn't think of him during your time apart.

“I did.” You say quietly. “I thought you had forgotten me. Without the visits or calls or gift.” You do feel silly now because this really is a sweet gift.

The sweetest gift. More sweet than the notebook and the credits and anything else he's ever given you. The small pink crystal in your hand means so much to you. The fact that he got it for you, was thinking about you while you were gone. The fact that the meaning behind the gift is so big. You own lightsaber if you wanted one. Din would get one for you. Said it himself. Your heart is racing in your chest.

“Never . I’ve been waiting to see you. Been thinking of you. Looking at your doodles every night.” He turns the light off and takes the crystal from your still outstretched hand. 

“Hey! That’s mine.” You reach for it but he leaves you kneeling next to your bed like you are praying to Maker in the dark again.

“I’m going to give it back.” Din raps . “Do you want to get back in bed or are you content on the floor?” 

You’re blinking into the dark. Wondering how dumb you look now on the floor blinking into the void. You scramble up without assistance and crawl into bed, facing the same direction as before. Away from Din. 

Secretly, you’re hoping he’s sans beskar and crawls into bed beside you and lets you hold him like he did the nights before you left. With your arm around his waist, stealing his radiating heat from him while he sleeps. You’d mill kisses softly across his shoulders and you’d listen to him sigh and make sleep sounds in the darkness.

But that doesn’t happen. It’s so quiet. It’s so still for so long. You wonder if he’s crawled in his own bed and is fast asleep. What could this all mean? The gift? The cold welcome back after two years? Everything you did before you left? What did it mean and did you accidentally fall for a potential half man- half droid that’s never going to show you his face? 

The dark is still, so quiet and unmoving. You feel like you’re alone in the room. 

“C-can I touch? Or are you still too upset with me?” Din asks quietly, the rasp of his modulator is gone. His sweet deep voice is right in your ear. It doesn’t startle you because you’ve been waiting to hear him speak for so long. 

“No.” You snap. “You couldn’t come touch me for two years! I would have let you then, any time you came to visit, I would have but you-”

His lips on yours stop you. You almost try and push him off, but Maker. I

t feels so good. His warm, soft lips on yours after all this time. You both open your mouths slightly, and as tentatively as Din touched you for the first time two years ago, his tongue slips past your lips and into your mouth just as slowly.

It’s gone as soon as it appeared. 

“I tried.” He whispers against your open mouth. “I got turned away every time. So many times I tried to see you.” He’s speaking fast, like he’s trying to explain himself to you before you beat him off of you with something hard you’ve found in the dark. “ So many times, little one." 

The words melt over your tongue as he speaks them, almost as if they were your words.

Ahsoka and Luke never told you he came to visit. Not one time. 

“I tried. I never forgot about you. Too perfect. Too beautiful to forget..." ” His bare hands cup your face as you speak. “Never forget you. Everyday I look at your doodles. I look at you, and miss you."

You're breathing in the words he's speaking into your parted lip. He kisses you again softly. You feel the bed shift next to you and he’s crawling beside you.

“Do you dislike me again?”

Maker, Din somehow got warmer. He’s running a fever all the time and his body feels like the embers in the fire pit at the end of the night. 

“Again?” You whisper as he pulls your face down to the pillows with his. 

“You didn’t care for me much before the doodles.” Din kisses your lips again, gently as his hand slips from your cheek. “I didn’t think you’d let me.” You can feel his warm breath on your chin as he speaks. 

“Let you what?” 

“Touch. Watch. The first time.” His real unmodulated voice whispers to you. “I've missed touching. Watching."

A warmth hovers over your middle, you reach for it. Tt’s Din’s hand, hovering above your stomach, under the blankets, but over your clothes. 

“Touch me.” It almost doesn’t come out of your mouth because it’s so dry. But you croak it out and swallow hard as the word leaves your lips because you hope he does. You hope this isn't like the first night all over again where he makes you do it alone.

Din obliges and lets his hand drop, you feel the heat spreading out along your nightgown starting from where his hand rests on your lower stomach. It makes you inhale sharply. It’s such a familiar touch and you missed it so much. 

Din sighs and drags his hands gently and slowly up your stomach, the fabric bunching at his wrist as he does it.

He's lifting your nightgown. 

“Din,” You whisper as his palm cups one of your fleshy tits over the nightgown.

His rough, calloused hands were so gently, touching you so sweetly until your hand rests on his, you make him squeeze you. You make him because you need to know this is real and these soft gentle touches feel like a dream.

Din grips you now. He can feel your desperation in your hand on his. Squeezing and pulling and tugging at your flesh. 

“Fuck.” He moans softly into your shoulder where his head was resting. The fiery goodness from his forehead felt like it was melting you. “Perfect. Beautiful.” He says the word like he doesn’t want to. Like he’s been forcing them back but they’re breaking free from his vocal chords.

You can almost feel his heartbeat. Or maybe it’s yours.

You don’t know. 

It’s just obvious that this is what you want and you need him. Badly. However he’s willing to give himself to you or however he wants to take you, you don’t care. You’ve been waiting and thinking about this for two years. Your body reacts to his touch like you were built for him. Your pussy is leaking and throbbing already and he’s only touched you once. 

There's a new warmth, a wetness to these sensations now. Din’s wrapped his mouth around your clothed nipple and is sucking. Biting gently over the nightgown you have on. It sends shivers down your spine.

Words come flowing out of your mouth before you can even stop them. “I've waited so long for this.” You whimper quietly.

Your hips are rolling against the bed below you because everything just feel so good, everything is just so overwhelmingly pleasurable. Din’s hands and mouth on you, the heat he's passing along through his touch. 

“Touch. I wanna hear you moan.” He murmurs against your breast. He’s still biting and sucking it through the fabric like he’s too impatient to take off the nightgown. He just can’t wait any longer. 

“I need you to touch me.” You whine quietly. “Please.” You’re begging him. “Please, Din, I need to fee-” But he doesn’t make you beg long, his free hand slides between your legs and he sighs loudly against you. 

“”Fuck. Fuck. You're s-so wet. So fucking perfect.” Din bites your nipple a little harder now, but then he pulls way. “Let me lick. P-Please. I just wanted to watch but now I need to taste you.” He’s moving down between your legs as he talks to you. Then he stops.

“Okay. Okay. Please. Do it, please.” You’re already spreading your legs but he’s getting off the bed again. “Nononononono.” You whine, reaching blindly for him in the dark. You’re on the verge of tears. “Please don’t leave me again.” 

It’s so quiet. It’s like time stopped. 

“Din?” You whisper. “Did you leave?” 

“Where would I go?” He answers but he’s further away from you now. "It's my ship."

“Well you’re obviously not here– where you were!” You exclaim quietly. You hear him chuckle in the dark. 

“Come to my bed. I want to do something. New.” 

Oh Maker what could that mean? A new stun gun? Some weird thing he found in his travels?

Does he want to make you the lightsaber and put the focus crystal inside you? That’s where you draw the line.

“What does that mean?” You ask nervously, clutching the sheets to your chest as you stare into the void. “New?” 

“Come here. You said I could lick, yes? Let me.” Din’s voice in the dark makes you drop the blankets your clutching and swing your legs over the edge of the bed. “Come, little one. Let me lick you. Let me taste you.” His voice guides you to him and you start to crawl into his bed but he stops you. “Leg.” He says into the dark.

“Leg?” You ask, confused. Din reaches for you in the dark and taps your upper thigh. 

“Leg.” He says like he’s teaching you body parts. “Swing it up here over my head.” 

“What!?” You exclaim. “You want me to do what?!” 

“I want you to sit on my face.” Din’s smiling in the dark and you can hear it in his voice. 

“And you’re going to taste me like that?” You’re exasperated. You’ve never even heard of this. What does that mean, sit on his face. “I’m going to smother you!” 

“Then I’ll die a happy man. Get up here.” Now he’s impatient. Din’s been waiting for this just as long as you have.

You swing one leg over his head and straddle him, pressing both hands to the wall in front of you. The ship's metal is so cold on your clammy hands. You can feel him breathing against your inner thighs as you sit on your knees above him.

“ This is perfect.” Din whispers. You can only whimper quietly because you’re so nervous, you feel so exposed up here. “You want me to lick…” He leans up and gives the very top of your slit a quick teasing lick. “Here? Yes?” 

Your knees buckle because Din’s tongue is just as soft and just as warm as you remember and you do want him to lick there. You can’t find words for how badly you want him. All you can do is let out a breathy sound of consent. 

“Beautiful.” Din wraps his hands under your thighs and pulls you down onto his mouth, his tongue is ready. Eager. Waiting for you to be on him, for him to be inside your folds. “Just as I remember.” He whispers into your pussy, tasting that flavor he memorized before you left and thought of it often. “I touched myself, thinking of you. To your doodles. To your flavor.” Din takes the flat of his tongue and licks you from your opening all the way to your clit, slowly, he presses up against you so you feel him. 

He wants you to know he missed you. 

“ Maker, yes. ” It’s moaned softly as Din presses the flat of his tongue against your slit and lets you ride his mouth. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced. Why were you so scared? Being on top of him, this way, you were in control up here. “ Oh Din, yes.” You’re not holding back tonight. 

You’ve been waiting to do this. Dreaming about it at night and waking up in the morning having to give yourself some sort of pleasure. You slide one hand down into his thick, coarse hair, just enjoying the feeling of it between your fingers again. You hear Din moan from between your legs and his tongue moves against you faster. 

Your fingers tighten in Din’s hair as he holds you around the legs, you’re pinned down onto him. His tongue is lapping and exploring your folds. Licking at all the spots he remembers make you squirm. He memorized every inch of you before he left and he’s been thinking about you, keeping it fresh in his head for this moment so he can make you whimper and quiver like he used to.

Din is panting underneath you, he’s working for what you’re about to give him. His tongue was drifting between those big lazy circles that had you whimpering and begging him for more and tight fast spinning around your clit. That’s when his hands found your hips and started to move you on his face, his tongue flat, stroking your clit with each movement of your hips. 

“Please don’t stop.” Pushing yourself off the wall you’ve been leaning against, you hover over him now, rocking your hips on your own. You found a rhythm with Din’s help. He holds your hips tighter now–not messing with the rocking of your hips–feeling you roll yourself along his mouth. As he does that he pulls you down harder on his tongue. Your free hand finds his hair and you grip it tightly now in both fists and grind down against his flat, strong muscle. “ Oh fuck yes . Din, I’m so close.” You’re whimpering for him.

Din moans loudly from underneath you, his hands now moving to your ass. He gropes and spreads your cheeks. 

“M-moan again.” You stutter, your hips grinding harder and faster. The vibrations from Din’s moans will be enough. 

Din obliges happily and moans loudly again, over and over as your head falls back, hips never stopping their rocking motion on his tongue. 

“Oh, fuck–ing yes. Din, oh Maker!” You cry out. You don’t care if The Razor Crest is gone, you have those memories inside your head forever. You don’t have to hold back nearly as much here. You can let him know how fucking good he makes you feel. Your body is quivering as you grind against him. You can feel the prickles of his facial hair on your inner thighs and lips as you ride him.

Being on Din’s face like this was heaven. You can hear him noisily licking and sucking at the new wave of juices that are dripping from your entrance. As the warm ball of fiery goodness spreads through you, you start to shudder and tremble on top of him, his tongue never stops moving against your clit and then dipping inside of your hole to taste you as you leak out. Din laps at you until there’s nothing left. Sucking your lips into his mouth at the end to make sure he didn’t miss anything. He leaves you trembling above him for so long he has to tap your thigh again for you to swing It over his head. 

"Sorry." You pant. "That was good. I'd do that again." You go to stand off his bed and you feel him wrap his arms around your waist. 

"Don't go. Share the bed." He whispers up to you. "I waited for so long." 

"I waited too!" You exclaim as all of your anger and fear of being forgotten about returns. "I waited for just as long as you did! You sure didn't act like you missed me or waited for me. Not until the lights went off at least." You're storming to your own bed now. You move quickly, not wanting him to hear or see the tears in your eyes.

You've been keeping this in for a long time. Letting it bottle up until you can't keep it in anymore. And the fact that he confessed all those nice things just to be able to touch you.

Din doesn't say anything in the dark, letting you try and find you way back in the void. It makes you sadder that he isn't trying to comfort you. The tears come, quietly, thank Maker, as you get into your own bed and wrap yourself in the covers. It isn't until you let out a little weeping sound that you hear him shuffle and then your bed shifts under his weight. Din's pressing himself into you gently, wrapping his arm around your waist. 

"If you had reached for me, you could have felt my heart from under my beskar." He whispers in your ear. "I did miss you. I did wait for you." A small kiss along your jaw, "You didn't seem like you were happy to see me today." He sounds disappointed. "I thought you had forgotten about me. Maybe someone with a face and who didn't leave made you forget about me." Another small kiss in the same place. "I sat in the dark for so long, wondering if you were thinking of me. I had to come find out. I did't mean to scare you. Don't cry, little one. Please?" He's kissing your face gently. 

"I don't think anyone could ever make me forget about you." You whisper into the void.

tag list: @thereaperisabitch @pedrospookie @furiousmushroom @creepycorbeaux

I'm still so uncomfortable tagging people in my stories, so like I said, please tell me to fuck off if you want me to stop. My feelings won't be hurt (yes they will), and it's completely fine (I'm a big girl and can handle it).

[ihfmseatsoch]

ok ok ok so if i may be so bold as to request something, ive been enamored wiht the idea of an older, controlling, borderline abuse boyfriend jimmy, like he and reader live together on earth, and reader goes to college, while jimmy works physical jobs trying to support them both. he's a SHITTY person though, so hes jealous of any man the reader talks to, reads through their phone, makes sinde comments about their weight and appearance, and (im totally not projecting here) eventually pressures them into dropping out, for like his perfect little live in partner/gf fantasy sjdhasd feel free to do whatever with this, but this specific scenario has not left my head for days

WHEEE this was fun to write ^w^ i rushed this a bit but i just didnt want you to have to wait any longer... :p

—

Jimmy Zare x fem!reader

reader uses fem terms (girl, girlfriend)

genre: how do i categorize this.... fic that makes you feel bad or horny depending on how you handle verbal abuse lol

word count: 1.8k

warnings/content: age gap, domestic abuse, manipulation, arguing, fat shaming, several references to the readers body/appearance, jimmy being the biggest asshole oh my god i hate him (i want him so bad it makes me look stupid)

(is it bad that writing about jimmy yelling at me turns me on... WOAHHH who said that .....😰 also dont kill me for the weight shaming part IM A FAT GIRL !!!!!! i like when evil men are mean to me !!!!!! RAAAH)

—

"He's a good guy, he can actually be really sweet!"

That's a sentence you find yourself saying out of complete muscle memory at this point whenever someone questions why your boyfriend–... well, they question an awful lot about your boyfriend.

For example, why he's over twenty years your senior whilst you're still going to class on the weekdays. Why he doesn't allow you to see your friends, wear certain clothes, leave your apartment without him, and why he takes up so much space in your brain, completely distracting you from your own life and goals.

You've missed at least four assignments this semester alone. It's stupid, really. You thought you'd be done with obsessing and crying over boys after you graduated highschool. It's completely immature for a so-called adult like yourself, but then again, you're hardly into adulthood at all.

Jimmy, on the other hand, has a lot more life experience, many of those experiences negative. That might be why you've taken some form of pity on him, going so far as to move into his apartment so you can take care of him when you're not busy. He needs someone to make sure he doesn't fall off the deep end.

The thing is, it's become hard to fit him in your schedule, but whenever you're unable to make time for him after he comes home from work, that familiar scowl on his face indicating it was another shitty day, he throws a fit.

He'll accuse you of everything under the sun; Infidelity being the primary thing.

"You don't love me. There's someone else, isn't there? It's that one kid that asked you to help him 'study' last week, isn't it? No? Give me your fucking phone, then."

This is what you come home to everyday, so it's nothing new. In fact, you're pretty used to it by now. Though today, Jimmy seems particularly pissed.

"Where have you been?" He crosses his arms and leans against the wall, eyeing you up and down like he always does when he's about to grill you on something.

"Sorry..." You mutter, way too tired to deal with one of his moods again. "Traffic." You answer simply, not having enough energy to overexplain yourself like you normally do.

"Uh huh. Traffic." He mimics you in a way that already tells you he's not buying it. Great.

"...It's the truth." You shrink into yourself at the way he's looking at you. Contemptuous as always. You're in for another argument, it seems. A million, desperate pleas run through your mind;

'Please don't give me another lecture about how you're my only financial support, and how grateful I should be. Please don't ask to see my phone. Please don't tell me to drop out.'

But, of course, you can't actually change the outcome of this. You're gonna get yelled at. Belittled. Degraded.

"You're two hours late, and you're gonna tell me you were just stuck in traffic?" He pushes himself off the wall and walks towards you.

"You're never home when you're supposed to be, and when you are home, you're all tired and upset.” He pokes a finger into your shoulder, hard. "What do you think that looks like from my point of view?"

"I'm sorry." You rub your face, exasperated. God, you wish he would shut up sometimes. Sure, he can be amicable, but lately... he's been a raging dick. Yet, you can't help but cling to the memory of his good moments. "I'll try to make it back on time tomorrow."

"Yeah? And how many times have I heard that before?" He sneers, "You're hiding something from me, aren't you?"

The way he accuses you so confidently, so sure of himself... it's insulting. Does he really think that little of you? "College has been kicking my ass, Jim. You know that. I'm not hiding anything from you, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, college this, college that. Always complaining about fuckin' college," He scoffs, his eyes stay narrowed, still glaring. "How about what I'm going through? You think I'm having a great time every day at work, hm?"

"No, I–" You stammer, hating the way he's turning this around to make himself the victim. Oh, woe is him, having to provide for himself and his girlfriend. How tortured he is. "I know, alright? I'm sorry. I just– what else do you expect me to do?"

"Be here. Like you're supposed to be. And I expect you to stop acting like I'm the bad guy for asking you to be a decent girlfriend."

Jimmy's voice raises slightly as he takes a step closer, towering over your sheepish figure. He nudges your shoulder again, even rougher this time.

"I'm busting my ass every day to put food on the table, and you can't even have the decency to show up on time, let alone look happy to see me?"

"I– I am happy to see you! I am, I'm just– you don't get it. I want to be here, but... I'm not even halfway through this semester, and–" You stumble over your words as you attempt, in vain, to defend yourself. It's not like he'll ever feel sympathy for you. It's always about what he wants. What makes him happy.

Jimmy rolls his eyes at your attempt to reason with him. It's as if he doesn't even register a word you say. "But what? What's more important to you, huh? Some stupid classes, or the guy who keeps a fuckin' roof over your head and feeds you? Be grateful, goddamn it." He snaps, grabbing your arms and giving them a forceful shake.

You flinch from being handled like you're not even a human being, much less one with feelings. "Stop, please, I'm– I am grateful, I really am..." You're not lying, either. To be honest, his guilt tripping works wonders on you. Are you really acting unappreciative? He wouldn't be this upset if you were in the right...

He seems unfazed by your frightened demeanor and continues to hold a firm grip on your arms. He looks you up and down, not even having to say anything for you to know he's judging you, as a girlfriend and person in general.

"Oh, you're grateful? Then maybe you should act like it for once." Jimmy gives your arms another firm shake, a harsh reminder of who's in charge here.

"I'm not asking much of you. I just want you to be here, and you can't even do that. Do you think I'm just gonna sit back and accept that bullshit?"

"No..." You shake your head, looking down at the ground in shame. Were you really that awful? You didn't want to be a bad partner, it's the last thing you ever wanted. If you could make eye contact without feeling guilty, you'd see Jimmy's face light up with satisfaction as he finally notices you're not even bothering to put up a fight anymore.

There's a condescending lilt to his tone as he speaks, "No one will ever love you like I do. You know that?"

You nod, knowing there has to be some truth to his claim. He takes care of you, doesn't he? He keeps a roof over your head, gives you money for groceries, and he's not always that unpleasant to be around...

He's a good boyfriend. You're the problem. You always are.

"Exactly."

The grip on your arms eases, moving them to place a hand on each of your shoulders, contrastingly gentle compared to his behavior only moments ago.

"You oughta thank your lucky stars you have a man like me who puts up with all your bullshit. You get that, right? How lucky you are to be with me?"

You know he's right. You were blessed with someone who still loves you, despite your many shortcomings. You're too fat, the acne on your face and body is repulsive, the way you do your makeup is weird... all of this being things Jimmy has told you directly. At least you have an honest boyfriend, isn't that what every girl wants?

He gives your shoulder a pat, like he's treating you like a small, petulant child. "You realize I could have literally any girl I want, right? Pretty, skinny, smart ones, even. But I chose you. Because I care about you."

He pauses, letting that sink in.

"But it would help if you'd actually put the effort in to look decent." He adds as an afterthought.

You've internalized every single snide remark he's thrown your way, reminded of them every single time you look in the mirror. Yet he still loves someone like you. Someone so difficult and embarrassing to be with.

"Jim, I don't... I don't know how I'm even gonna be able to free my schedule at all with school and stuff..." You mumble guiltily. You know he wants you to drop out, he's suggested it more times than you can count.

"That right there, that's why I'm frustrated, goddamn it," He says with an exacerbated sigh. He moves one hand from your shoulder to pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "Why don't you get it? Dropping out isn't the end of the world. Just quit and stay home. Done. Easy."

"It's not that easy... I want to get a good job and help out too, you know..."

It's true that you want to pull your weight around your shared home. With your combined income, it'd make everything easier. But... with how shitty college makes you feel, leaving you beaten down and tired by the end of the day...

You find yourself listening to Jimmy on this for once.

He can tell you're seriously contemplating it this time, which makes him feel... more in control. He's got you thinking and believing exactly what he wants you to. Soon, he'll be able to get you to obey him without another word from you.

The thought of having you as his subservient, stay at home girlfriend is more than appealing. It's his goal to mold you into what he wants you to be.

"Yeah, yeah, I get that, I know. But you're stressing yourself half to death, and for what? Some stupid degree? Listen to me, I'm not gonna ask you again. You're just creating problems that don't need to exist. Just quit. You'll have plenty of free time that you can spend with me."

You can't deny how tempting the idea is. Hesitantly, after several moments of pondering the hypotheticals and what-ifs, you speak up,

"...I guess... dropping out wouldn't hurt too much."

He perks up at that, barely being able to contain a delighted grin. You're actually putting him and his wants first, and acknowledging that he's right. You're doing as he says, without any of the usual arguing or excuses. He'll finally have his dream complaisant, docile girlfriend to come home to every night.

It only took a month or two to finally get you to cave. You'll be easier to control from now on. Hell, maybe you'll lose some weight with some free time on your hands, stop wearing that shitty makeup...

"Good girl," He says in a patronizing tone, like he's addressing a child, "That's what wanna hear."

God, you really hope this isn't a bad idea. Jimmy looks pleased for once, so...

This decision can't possibly ruin your future too badly, right?

—

[amazinglystay]

Under the Moonlight✨

Felix Lee x fem!Reader

·:¨⛦𓆩♡𓆪⛦¨:·

Summary:

Under the peaceful night sky, Felix and Y/N bond over quiet conversations, with Felix finding a rare sense of calm as they talk about the simple joys in life.

T/W: Fluff🌸 (and stress? Idk tbh.)

-Not Proof Read-

It was late when Felix found himself wandering outside the dorm, the quiet hum of the city mingling with the cool breeze. The night sky stretched out in front of him, stars twinkling faintly as he took a deep breath. He’d been feeling off all day too much noise, too many people, and not enough time to breathe. But out here, in the stillness, everything seemed to slow down.

As he rounded a corner, he saw her.

Y/N was sitting on a bench, her face turned toward the sky, lost in the rhythm of the night. Her hair swayed gently with the breeze, and Felix couldn’t help but stare for a moment. There was something calming about her presence, as though she belonged to the quiet, just like the stars.

He took a step forward, not wanting to startle her, but his shoes made a soft squeak against the pavement. She looked up immediately, her expression shifting into a soft smile when she recognized him.

"Felix," she greeted, her voice like a melody. "You’re out late."

He shrugged, stepping closer, hands in his pockets. "Couldn’t sleep. Just needed some air."

Y/N nodded, and for a second, they both just stood there, the comfortable silence wrapping around them like a blanket. The moonlight made her eyes shine, and Felix found himself caught in their depth. He’d never been one to talk much about his feelings, especially not to fans, but there was something about Y/N that made him feel safe enough to let his guard down.

"You’re usually so busy," Y/N said, breaking the quiet. "How do you deal with all the pressure?"

Felix paused. It wasn’t often that anyone asked him that. Most people just assumed he had it all together. He chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I don’t know if I deal with it. I just… keep going. Music helps. And my members." He looked at her, his expression softening. "And sometimes, just a moment like this."

Y/N smiled, that knowing look in her eyes. She understood. Sometimes, it wasn’t about the big answers or grand gestures it was about finding peace in the little things.

"You always seem so confident on stage," she said quietly. "But you’re different when it’s just us."

Felix blinked at her, his heart skipping a beat. "What do you mean?"

She shifted on the bench, her gaze turning back to the sky. "It’s like… when you’re up there, you’re this unstoppable force. But here, now, you’re just… Felix. Just a person who needs a break too."

Felix felt his cheeks warm. He hadn’t expected such an honest observation. But it felt nice, hearing that from someone who wasn’t looking at him through the lens of fame.

"Yeah," he murmured, stepping closer to sit beside her. "I think everyone needs a break."

For a moment, they sat in comfortable silence, the only sound being the distant hum of the city and the rustling of leaves. Felix felt a rare sense of calm settle in his chest. It wasn’t often that he got to experience moments like this just being himself, not the idol, not the performer.

"Do you ever think about what you want to do after all this?" Y/N asked after a while.

Felix glanced at her, considering the question. It was something he’d thought about before, but never really had an answer for. The future felt like a blurry horizon that kept moving further away no matter how fast he ran toward it.

"I don’t know," he admitted. "But I know I want to keep doing what I love. Whether it's performing, making music, or something else… I think I just want to stay true to myself."

Y/N smiled at him, her eyes softening. "That’s all anyone can do."

Felix looked at her, feeling a warm, almost overwhelming sense of gratitude for this simple moment. "Thanks, Y/N," he said quietly. "You always know what to say."

She shrugged, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "I guess I just listen."

Felix laughed softly, and for the first time in a while, he didn’t feel the weight of the world on his shoulders. Just the quiet, the moonlight, and the comforting presence of someone who saw him for who he was, not just who he appeared to be.

"Yeah, well, maybe I should listen more often," he said, nudging her playfully.

They stayed there for a while longer, two people under the vast sky, letting the night wrap them in its quiet embrace. Felix wasn’t sure what the future held, but in that moment, he knew he was exactly where he was supposed to 

·:¨⛦𓆩♡𓆪⛦¨:·

A/N: Hope you enjoyed! In my opinion it’s not the best and could be better 🤷‍♀️. Anyway make sure to eat sleep drink byeeeeeee ✨

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