#there are times where he wonders how his life would be without dark if he had more freedom

[larluce]

Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU (SERIES 2)

FIRST PART (SERIES 1) >> PREVIOUS PART >> NEXT PART

In "Lancelot and Guinevere"

Merlin and Morgana in the Burial Vault.

Morgana: Scéawere, inbringe cume mec (her eyes glow and a mirror that is on the floor levitates and goes to her until it lands in her hand) I did it! (jumps excited)

Merlin: (happy and proud of her) And in your very first spell! You are a natural.

Morgana: Scéawere, folge min bebod (her eyes glows and the mirror levitates again. She giggles as she watches the mirror dancing around her) This is easier than I thought. (stops watching the mirror to look at Merlin) How is that-

Merlin: Don't lose concentration!

Too late. The mirror falls to the floor and breaks.

Morgana: (sighs, sad) I thought I got the handle of it.

Merlin: You have it! It takes most magic users years to achieve what you just achieved. And that's because they have to grow and strengthen their magic before they are able to control it at their will. Your magic, however, is already strong. Spells are just helping you to guide it and have it under your command. (looks the broken mirror on the floor) Betan Scéawere (his eyes glow and the mirror repairs itself, back to new) Once you master that, you'll be able to even do some spells non verbally (his eyes glow and the mirrow levitates to his hand) Like this.

Morgana: (smiles and looks at her hand or rather the magic emanating from it) Since I came to Camelot I've been told that magic was a dark art and could only be a force of evil (picks up the magic book Merlin gave her to study) But there are so many helpeful spells here that could bring so much good to the people of Camelot. The healing spells for example, how many lifes could they have saved! If Uther weren't so-

Merlin: I know. Once Arthur is King that will change.

Morgana: ...

Merlin: What is it?

Morgana: You said Arthur didn't react badly when you told him, right?

Merlin: Yeah, it surprised me a lot, to be honest. Not that I thought he would order my execution or anything, but he wasn't even a bit mad for lying to him about my magic. (thougthful) Sometimes I think... Maybe he is enchanted?

Morgana: Don't be ridiculous. He is just in love.

Merlin: (blushes, but thinks) But... Being in love didn't stop him from getting mad at Guinevere when she cheated on him. Not that lying about my magic can compare to that, but... sometimes he acts so different from the Arthur I remember...It makes me wonder if-

Morgana: Stop it.

Merlin: What?

Morgana: Doubting Arthur's love for you. You are not just hurting yourself with your doubts, you'll hurt Arthur if you keep doing that.

Merlin: You are right. I'm sorry. (pauses) Why are you asking about Arthur's reaction? Are you planning to tell him?

Morgana: Well, not now, but... maybe soon? At least, I'm considering it.

Merlin: (smiles reassuring) Take all the time you need.

Time skip. In Merlin's chambers.

Merlin: (enters, cautiously)

Arthur: (in the middle of the room) Where were you?

Merlin: (almost jumps out of his skin) Arthur! What are you doing in my room?

Arthur: I asked first. (aproaches Merlin, warning) If you are doing dangerous missions behind my back-

Merlin: I'm not! I promised you I would never do that again without consulting you, didn't I?

Arthur: You also promised me you'll never hide anything from me again, so... (crosses his arms) Where have you been disappearing to? Don't think I haven't noticed.

Merlin: (sighs) I've been... helping someone.

Arthur: Helping? Who?

Merlin: I can't tell you their name, but they are... like me.

Arthur: (realises) A warlock?

Merlin: (nods, happy Arthur remember the term) They have nobody else that can teach them how to control their gift, so I'm helping them.

Arthur: So you are basically their mentor?

Merlin: (shrugs) I guess?

Arthur: (sighs) Only you Merlin would start teaching sorcery in a kingdom were magic is illegal.

Merlin: (takes Arthur's hand in his) We are very careful, I promise.

Arthur: (soften his expression at the gesture) Do I know this person?

Merlin: (nods) I can't tell you who, but she-they are trustwordy. You have nothing to worry about.

Arthur: (smiles, realising it's Morgana) Alright. (pulls Merlin close) I'm still quite offended though.

Merlin: (confused) Why?

Arthur: You are showing your magic to this stranger while you have shown me barely anything.

Merlin: (surprised) You... want me to show you my magic?

Arthur: Well, I always see a bit of it when we kiss (Merlin shoves him and Arthur laughs), but, besides the butterfly you did when you told me your secret, you never do magic before me willingly.

Merlin: Well, magic is still illegal.

Arthur: You know what I mean.

Merlin: I lighted a candle.

Arthur: Because I ordered you to.

Merlin: (evades his eyes) I... didn't think you wanted me to. I mean, I know you don't hate it, but... I don't know... I guess I just didn't want to make you unnecessarily uncomfortable.

Arthur: Merlin, (lift Merlin's chin with one hand) when I said I loved all of you, I was serious. I love you, not despite your magic, but with your magic for it is part of you. I love your magic as much as I love you.

Merlin: (his eyes water) You... can't just say things like that. (thinking) You make it difficult not to believe you are actually enchanted.

Arthur: (smiles and holds his hands lovinly) Come on. Show me something.

Merlin: (looks at the fireplace and extends a hand) Upastige dracas (his eyes glow and three dragons of fire come from out of it and fly around the room)

They both have the same flashback. Arthur recently wounded by Mordred, lying on the grass, while Merlin made a little dragon of fire. Arthur wasn't able to appreaciate it then, too in shock to learn his best friend was a sorcerer and lied to him, hurting metaphorically at the betrayal and literally for the wound. Merlin fearing he'd lose Arthur forever, blaming himself for not getting there in time. That dragon was shy, it dissapeared as soon as it appeared. The dragons the Arthur watches right now are more defined and fly freely. And Merlin no longer awaited his reaction with fear, but expectantly, blushing like this was something intimate and it is.

Arthur: (with a loving smile) It's beautiful.

Time skip. Another day. Merlin and Morgana in the Burial Vault.

Morgana: Baern. (her eyes glow and a candle is lighted, but it soon goes out)

Merlin: It's okay. We should rest a bit-

Morgana: (Stubborn) No! I have it. Baern! (her eyes glow and the candle is lighted but the flame leaps too high)

Merlin: Færblæd wawe! (his eyes glow and blows the fire with an air current) Maybe is too soon to start with fire spells.

Morgana: You said it was the easier element to conjure!

Merlin: Yes, but it's also the most dangerous one. And conjuring fire and controlling fire are two different things. You had a bad experience with fire before, it's normal that your magic is hesitant to create it. You just need more time-

Morgana: (desperate) NO! I don't have time! I need to learn how to use it NOW!

Merlin: What do you mean? (opens his eyes in realisation) Morgana did you have another vision?

Morgana: ...

Merlin: What was it about?

Morgana: I was visiting my father's grave with Gwen like I always do every begining of spring and... we got captured by some men in the way.

Merlin: (thinking) That's when they tried to kidnap Morgana for ransom and took Gwen instead (says) Begining of spring...that's tomorrow! 😨 Are you planning on going?

Morgana: I thought about not going but... then I'll be fearing this will happen any other time I'm on a pilgrimage to my father's grave. Or any time I leave the castle. I can't live like that. I won't let the fear of my nightmares control me. (thinking) Not again.

Merlin: So you wanted to learn fire spells to defend yourself.

Morgana: And Gwen.

Merlin: (surprised) You are still going with Gwen? I thought you'll make her stay to keep her safe.

Morgana: I would, but she has always accompanied so if I tell her not to go, she'll know something is up. And if I tell her the reason-

Merlin: She'll insist in coming with you anyway and you can't deny her.

Morgana: (sighs) Yes.

Merlin: And you didn't tell Arthur either because he'll out right forbid you from going. (sighs) Alright, Lancelot and I will come with you to protect you.

Morgana: How? Uther would never let a couple of peasant men accompany us.

Merlin: Uther doesn't have to know we'll be there. We can disguise ourselves as knights to infiltrate in the scort, having our helmets on all the time so they don't recognise us.

Morgana: Oh... that's actually a great idea! 😃 (looks Merlin up and down) But... Are you sure you can pass as a knight?

Merlin: (frowns) What do you mean?

Time skip. Lancelot, Gwen, Morgana and Merlin in the armory.

Merlin: (dressing an armor that is quite large for him)

Gwen: Uhm...

Morgana: Yeah, I don't buy it.

Lancelot: (apologetically) It's true Merlin. You look too skinny to be a knight.

Merlin: (thinking) Is not my fault that I lost all my buff when I travelled back in time! 😠 (says) Can't you make me one of my size, Gwen?

Gwen: Not with so little time. And my father will wonder where all the material is dissapearing.(pauses and looks at Merlin, worried) Are you sure you want to go? If Morgana's nightmare comes true, you'll be in danger too. Maybe it'll be better if you stayed. Arthur will never forgive us if something happens to you.

Merlin: No! I have to be there!

Gwen: Why? I get why Lancelot has to come, he fights better than all the scort combined. But you? What could you do?

Morgana and Lancelot: (who know Merlin has powerful magic but can't tell) ...

Merlin: You need me there because... You need me there for...

Morgana and Lancelot: (sweat)

Merlin: For... For moral support!

Morgana and Lancelot: (sigh in relief)

Gwen: (chuckles) Whatever you say. (brings her index finger to her chin, thoughtful) Lets see, if we can't pass you as a knight maybe we can pass you as something else.

Morgana: Well as a lady I'm allowed to bring a scort of knights and all the maidservants I may ne... (trails off and turns to Merlin slowly, with a malicious grin on her face)

Gwen: (brings a hand to her mouth, gasping in excitment)

Lancelot: (just looks at Merlin in concentration, seriously trying to picture him in a dress)

Merlin: (open his eyes wide as he realises) No... NO! ABSOLUTELY NO!

Time skip. In Morgana's chambers.

Merlin: (sarcastic as Morgana puts make up on him) We can't make Merlin an armor, but sure, lets make him a dress. That's a lot easier.

Morgana: It actually is. And we didn't make one. Gwen just made a few alterations to one of my old one's. Don't move!

Gwen: (doing last adjusments in the wig on Merlin's head) There! Are you done, my lady?

Morgana: Wait... Done!

Merlin: Thank the gods! (stands up from the chair)

Lancelot: (knocks the door from outside)

Gwen: (opens the door)

Lancelot: Gwen, Arthur is asking for Mer-

Gwen: (pulls him inside, excited) Just in time! You have to see this!

Lancelot: Wait, this is serious. He's about to put the whole castle upside do- (cuts himself as he watches Merlin) Wow...

Merlin: (in a beautiful red dress, make up and a wig which hair covers his long ears) There is no way this will work. I must look ridiculous. Tell them, Lancelot.

Lancelot: ...

Merlin: Lancelot?

Lancelot: I think for the first time I understand Arthur.

Merlin: What? 😧

Lancelot: (chuckles) Don't ever tell him I said this. But you are actually very pretty, Merlin.

Morgana: I told you!

Gwen: (smacks Lancelot)

Lancelot: Ow!

Gwen: Stop flirting with my friend! 😠

Lancelot: I was not flirting! I was just complimenting her-HIM!

Merlin: (runs to look at a mirror and stares at his reflection, very surprised) I... I am...

Gwen: Beautiful?

Morgana: Stunning?

Lancelot: Femenine?

Merlin: Yes! How is that possible? I don't even have a breast!

Morgana: There are many girls that are flat chested. Is not that uncommon. And you compensate it a lot with your behind. 😏

Merlin: (turns to look at his behind in the mirror) How is that I pass more as a maid than as a knight? I feel flattered and insulted at the same time. (puts his hands on his waist and takes a deep breath) And how can you wear a corset everyday? I can hardly breath.

Morgana: You get used to it.

Gwen: Uhm... but he looks more like a lady than a maidservant. (to Morgana) Maybe we should have used one of my dresses instead?

Morgana: No, it's perfect. (smirks) Time to put it to test.

Time skip. At the training field. Arthur just finishing the training with his knights.

Morgana: (enters, pulling Merlin with her, whispering) Come on!

Merlin: (just lets himself be dragged around, his head down, red to his ears)

Morgana: (calls out) Your Highness!

All the knights: (turn and bow to her and Merlin)

Arthur: (turns) Morgana! Have you seen Merlin? He was suppossed to attend me hours ago. Someone else had to help me with my armor.

Morgana: I'm afraid not. But there's someone I'd like you to meet.

Merlin: (still with his head down, tries to hide behind Morgana, but she doesn't let him)

Morgana: This is an old friend of mine. Lady Merelyn of Essetir. She is a bit shy, but she came from very far away to meet you. I was hoping you could give her a tour around the castle.

Arthur: (kind of annoyed) Did my father put you up to this?

Morgana: (confused) What?

Arthur: I told him I'm not interested in-

Merlin: (finally has the courage to lift his head)

Arthur: (Arthur exe has stopped working)

Merlin: (nervous, in the lightest voice he can manage) It's a pleasure to meet you, your Highness.

Arthur: ...

Morgana: (having the time of her life) So... about that tour.

Arthur: (comes back to his senses, though he's blushing) Right. (to Merlin, smiling) It'll be my honor to show you around the castle, Lady Merelyn. (offers "Merelyn" his arm)

Morgana: (whispers to Merlin) Hold it.

Merlin: (whispers back) What?

Morgana: You have to hold it!

Merlin: Oh! (holds Arthur's arm quickly and very not delicately)

Arthur: (chivalrously leads Merlin out of the training field)

Knight x: (watching them in the distance) Poor girl. I have the feeling she'll dissapear.

Knight y: Has she been here before? She kind of looks familiar.

Knight z: No, I would remember a beauty like that.

Morgana: Hey! Is that the way to talk about a lady? Show some respect!

Knights: (hang their head) Yes, my lady. My apologies, my lady.

Time skip. Arthur and Merlin walking around the castle. People stare at them as they pass.

Arthur: And this is the banquet hall where we have feasts and parties, my lady.

Merlin: (just hums in response and thinks, confused and kind of hurt) He hasn't recognised me yet?

Arthur: (leads Merlin to a more apart place)

Merlin: (thinking) Wait, where is he taking me? What intentions does he have with Merelyn?! 😠

Arthur: (looks around to verify they are alone and suddenly burst out laughing) Oh, Gods! Of all the crazy things you've done, Merlin. You outdid yourself this time.

Merlin: (dumbfounded) You... know it's me?

Arthur: Like I wouldn't recognise that stray kitten face anywhere.

Merlin: Better a kitten face than a toad face. (shoves him) Why didn't you say anything before, you scared me!

Arthur: I couldn't! The knights were there and then the servants. I needed to make sure we were alone. And what do you mean I scared you? (pauses) Wait, what did you think I was doing?!

Merlin: You brought a lady to a hidden place! What was I supposed to think?

Arthur: (stares at him for a second and then laughs again) You were jealous of yourself and I'm the jealous obnoxious prat?

Merlin: I still stand by that!

Arthur: Why are you even dress like a girl anyway? Is this a new hobby of yours? 😏

Merlin: (blushes) No! Is nothing like that! It's part of a plan.

Arthur: (incredulous) A plan?

Merlin: To protect Morgana and Gwen.

Arthur: (his smile fades) What?

Merlin: Don't get mad at her, but Morgana had a dream where she and Gwen got captured by some bandits in her pilgrimage to her father's grave, so I suggested her to infiltrate Lancelot and me in her scort so Lancelot and I will be able to protect them if that were to happen. But apparently I don't make a believable knight so... I'm accompanying her as her maid.

Arthur: (thinking) That ambush! I forgot about it! (says) First, I agree on the knight part. Second, ARE YOU INSANE?! 😡 I'm not letting any of you go to that pilgrimage!

Merlin: And that's why Morgana didn't tell you. If the bandits don't capture them today they could capture them any other day and you can lock Morgana and Gwen up in the castle forever. But if I go with them I can defeat these bandits with my magic and the threat will be gone for good.

Arthur: There are many knights in that scort. They could see you!

Merlin: Which is why Lancelot is coming too. He can cover me. And even if someone were to spot me using my "gift", they'll think Lady Merelyn did it, not me.

Arthur: Fine. But I'm coming with you.

Merlin: You can't! You have duties to attend to here and if you cancel them your father will be furious. We are on thin ice with him, remember?

Arthur: (troubled, thinking) He's right but... this could also be a perfect opportunity to reduce numbers. 280, 280 left. It's still not enough. 280. Merlin could get worse! 280. I can't lose him again! 280. I can't-

Merlin: (holds his hand softly) We'll be fine. Trust me.

Arthur: (thinking, calming at Merlin's gesture) Patience. You have a plan. Be patient (sighs resigned, but then smirks) Well, I can't deny a lady, can I? (holds Merlin by the waist, pulling him close slowly) Especially such a pretty lady like this.

Merlin: (open his eyes wide, scandalised) Arthur Pendragon! Are you actually turned on by this?

Arthur: Let's just say I wouldn't mind you wearing dresses more often.

Merlin: (flustered, but then smiles and puts his hands on Arthur's chest seductively, moving his eyelashes at him) Oh, you flattered me so much, my lord. I don't know what to say. (turns his head away acting shy)

Arthur: (thinking) Thank godness this chainmail is long!

Leon: (enters) Your Highness? Lady Morgana is looking for... (spots "Merelyn" and Arthur)

Merlin: (pushes Arthur away from him inmediatly, making him fall to the floor, and gives his back at Leon so he doesn't recognise him)

Leon: ... her new maid.

Arthur: (stands up from the floor as royaly as he can) Sir Leon! Uhm, what is that brought you here again?

Leon: (hides his anger in apparently finding his Prince in an affair with another girl, putting on neutral face and voice) Lady Morgana is expecting Lady Merelyn in the main square to go to her pilgrimage.

Arthur: (thinking) She totally did this on purpose! (says) I understand. I'll scort Lady Merelyn there inmediatly.

Leon: (bows and leaves)

Arthur and Merlin: (look at each other in silence and then burst out laughing)

Time skip. In the main square. Morgana, Merlin and Gwen with capes, ready to go their pilgrimage.

Merlin: (looking at his horse, sad)

Morgana: (to Merlin) I'm sorry you couldn't bring Princess, but it would be too suspicious if someone that is not Merlin is able to ride her.

Merlin: It's alright. I wouldn't want her in danger.

Morgana: Knowing her, she'd fight back those bandits too.

Lancelot: (already disguised as a knight, helps Gwen get on her horse) It's not too late to change your mind, my love. I rather if you stayed.

Gwen: (gives him a comforting smile) I wouldn't be at peace here, knowing you and Morgana might be in danger.

Lancelot: Gwen-

Gwen: I have you and a hidden dagger. Everything will turn out alright.

Lancelot: (squeezes her hand lovinly before going to join the other knights)

Arthur: (helps Morgana get on her horse) I hope your trip isn't too upsetting. And be careful.

Morgana: (smiles) Thank you, Arthur. We'll be.

Knight x: (about to help Merlin get on his horse)

Arthur: (interrupts) Let me.

Knight x: Sire. (bows an joins the other knights)

Arthur: (helps Merlin on his horse) I hope your stay in the castle was of your liking, Lady Merelyn.

Merlin: (giggles) And I hope my presence was just as likable, my lord.

Arthur: (kisses his hand) Have a good trip, my lady.

Merlin: (blushes, so he puts on his cape)

Arthur: (turns to the knights) Ensure you return to Camelot before dusk.

Knight y: Yes, Sire.

Arthur: (goes to Lancelot and whispers) Look after them.

Lancelot: (nods) Of course, Sire.

Arthur makes the signal with his hand and they set off. The prince stays in place just wacthing them leave. Merlin turns and crosses eyes with his prince and gives him a reassuring smile. Then they are finally out of sight and, after a minute, Arthur goes back to the castle.

Time skip. Morgana, Gwen and Merlin riding being escorted by knights in the woods.

Gwen: You two have been very secretive these days, my ladys.

Morgana: What do you mean?

Gwen: Well you seem to dissapear almost at the same time everyday. Is there something I should know?

Morgana: (looks at Merlin with a knowing look)

Merlin: (gives the same knowing look, smiling, and then turns to Gwen) You got us, Gwen. We are having a secret affair.

Morgana: (sings) We are so devotedly in love!

Gwen: (chuckles) Fine, don't tell me.

Merlin: (stops smiling, suddenly alert)

Morgana: (worried) Merl-Merelyn?

Merlin: They are here.

Bandits come out from behind the trees and run to them, shouting and running towards them with every intention to attack.

Knights: (on guard)

Merlin: (whispers) Tæfle!

The bandits that are riding fall off their horses, but the ones that go on foot still attack and fight the knights. Merlin deflects the arrows that are thrown at the knights with his magic, but is the much he can do without his intervention being noticed. Both knights and bandits start falling dead before their eyes, while Morgana and Gwen scream in terror.

Gwen: (looking around, shouts desperate) Lancelot!

Lancelot: (that at some point took the horse of a fallen knight, rides to Morgana, Gwen and Merlin) My ladys, follow me! (Slays a bandit that was approaching with his sword and rides ahead)

Morgana, Gwen and Merlin: (follow him, leaving the battle behind)

Morgana: (when they are far away) I think we lost them!

Suddenly the horses neight in pain and leap their front legs in the air, making Morgana, Gwen, Merlin and Lancelot fall. Merlin slows their falls a bit with his magic so they don't get injured. When they stand up, the horses have already run off.

Lancelot: Gwen! (runs to her an checks her) Are you alright?

Gwen: I'm fine.

Morgana: (shaking off the dust from her dress) Your lady is fine too, thank you for asking.

Lancelot: (embarrased) My apologies, my lady.

Merlin: (shaking off the dust from her dress too) Your friend is also fine, just so you know.

Lancelot: You are a man and have magic, Merlin.

Merlin: So I don't deserve to be treated chivalrously? Rude (touching his head) I can't believe my wig is still on after this. (notices some things of metal on the ground) Caltrops... (alarmed) They put them here. We have to run!

Too late. Kendrick, the lead outlaw, appears before them with 6 more bandits on horses and they are soon sorrounded.

Lancelot: (puts himself infont of Morgana, Gwen and Merlin, raising his sword)

Morgana: (shouts) I warn you! I am Uther Pendragon's ward. He will have your heads if any harm comes to me.

Kendrick: (gets off his horse) I have no intention of harming you, Lady Morgana. (comes closer) You're much more valuable to me alive. (looks at her lasciviously) You may not believe it, but we are actually good men. We'll make sure to make you feel at home. You will be so pleased with our company that you won't want to leave us.

All bandits: (laugh)

Bandit x: What do we do with the other girls?

Kendrick: (looks Merlin and Gwen up and down) They look like lady's companions (smirks) and they are not ugly. Maybe we can get some money for them.

All bandits: (protest)

Kendrick: Or! I could give them to my men as a reward!

All bandits: (cheer sickly)

Kendrick: Yeah, I bet you've never tasted a noble maiden before.

Gwen: (scared, her hand over her dagger if she needs to use it)

Morgana: (prepared to use her hidden dagger too and gives a stony look to the men, not giving them the satisfaction of seing her scared)

Merlin: (looking around for something he could use to knock them up, magic sparkling in his fingers)

Lancelot: (yells, furious) Shut your mouth! Do not contaminate the ears of the ladies. Your presence is enough.

Kendrick: Oh, I do plan to contaminate them in other ways.

Lancelot: (threatenly, pointing his sword at him) You'll be dead before you try!

Kendrick: (laughs) You are outnumber. If someone's dead here is you.

Merlin: (spots some tree branches, thinking) Please, forgive me.

Kendrick: (to the bandits) Take them.

Bandits: (get off their horses)

Lancelot: (on guard, ready to attack)

Merlin: (about to use a spell to throw the branches at the bandits)

?????: You four have got yourselfs in a bit of a pickle, haven't you?

Merlin: (opens his eyes wide, thinking) That voice... Could it be?

Gwaine: (appears on sight) Come on. That's no way to treat a lady. And we have three.

Merlin: (surprised and very happy, shouts) Gwaine?! 😃

....

Lady Merelyn everybody!!

Tagging @aceauthorcatqueen , @fallenxjas , @smileytrinity ,@lucifertookmyshoe , @an-entity-i-think , @thecornerofbelu , @griffonskies , @odinjm , @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @thelady-mary , @bennedict , @nightninjaboy , @st8-of-grace , @starrieisdelusional , @error-username-not-available , @dogberryrowan , @jamieweasley13 , @tansyuduri , @tercais , @robynnemrys , @evadne01 , @serasvictoria02 , @hairdryerducks , @curiously-lazy , @harriettesthings , @andrealux16 , @wacko-weirdo , @greatdonutenemy , @yougottobekittenme , @anxiousosaurus , @kinkforwings , @someweirdassnamee , @impracticalantlers , @miyriu , @hobipabo , @whitemaskcd , @bogslob , @braziiis , @rubinaitoart , @thebigoblin , @toomanyfanficsbruh , @farmboyprince , @nonsensefunsense , @slightly-psycho-multifan , @jxmimac , @anarchelsworld , @beepbeep-yeah , @faithiikins

[beloveds-embrace]

duke au angst, but könig isn’t a knight. He’s either not in it and reader just sinks into a pit of depression and withdrawals so much that rumours start speculation around the ton that reader is either dead or murder and it starts to take a toll on john reputation (they start going after why him, simon, johnny and kyle are so close) or a könig is an Austrian duke/way closer to royalty and when he’s over for business with John and/or simon, he and the reader hit it off (much to the boys dismay) and reader plans on leaving without a word, leaving nothing more than a vague letter that details why and a set of divorce papers (helped achieved by könig) and by the time they realise their mistake readers already living the high life in austria

….okay but the first one’s got me downright obsessed, anon 😩 second one too and i feel like i will absolutely end up caving and writing it later but for now, have this!

Angst dukedom post

Non-angst dukedome post(no konig in this one)

No but seriously, there is only so much you can take. Between everyone’s dismissal of you, the lack of any meaningful company, the loneliness- it was only a matter of time before you just… can’t do it anymore.

The change, though it starts slow, is impossible to hide. You stop having dinner with John, finding no solace in the taste of lukewarm, half-heartedly prepared food. You tell yourself it’s not worth it- the stilted conversations, the empty looks, the way his eyes always drift to anything but you. He’s too busy sharing hidden glances with Kyle, exchanging quiet touches with Johnny when he hand delivers the food, speaking to Simon with an intensity that has never been for you.

You stop attending the endless galas and balls you are meant expected to attend as the Duchess. You withdraw from the tea parties, from every suffocating event where you were paraded as nothing more than an ornament on Duke Price’s arm. You withdraw from the public eye itself.

Instead, you drift through the duchy, through the rooms that are suddenly empty when you arrive. You drift to and fro, in a haze of lonelinthat and slow-setting exhaustion.

The maids whispered of you before, but it used to be out of your earshot; now, you can hear them clearly, none of them afraid of being punished when not even your own husband can stand your sight. They mutter about how sickly you look, how your eyes are dull and lifeless.

She’s wasting away.

Maybe it’s for the best.

No one can love someone who fades into the walls.

But of course, the whispers aren’t just within the duchy. Rumors ripple out beyond the duchy’s walls-

The Duchess has gone mad, they say. Locked away by her husband, for her own good.

She ran away in the dead of night, they say. Couldn’t bear her husband’s coldness. Maybe he drove her to it.

He’s always with Duke Riley, isn’t he? Or the butler. Or the chef.

Poor thing. No wonder she vanished.

All of it gnaws and bites at John’s reputation, at yours, but he never comes to you and it doesn’t surprise you at all. He would rather find a way to bury it all then simply check on you. The facade has always been more important, and he keeps it with half-hearted excuses half-believed by some and dismissed by others.

But they are relentless, and soon they taint every interaction he has. No one meets him without a hint of suspicion in their eyes. How much of it is true, they seem to ask. What did you do to her? Is she really gone? She was a good woman, how could you do that to her? There is more scrutiny now on the time he spends with Simon, with Kyle, with Johnny. He starts to avoid public events himself, unwilling to face the relentless gossip that hangs over him now like a dark cloud.

Eventually, you stop dressing for the day, leaving your hair unkempt, your gowns crumpled and out of style. No one comes to check on you, the maids happy at having less work, and you tell yourself that you prefer it that way. No eyes to judge. No lips to lie. The solitude is nothing new, even if it’s never been this severe before.

Time blurs, too. You stop looking at the newspapers when they stop being delivered. The days mean nothing when every morning brings only a new kind of numbness, and some days you spend entirely in bed, too tired to even think about taking a step outside.

Yet, even with your noticeable absence, nothing changes. No one knocks on your door, not even once. No one checks to see if you’re eating, breathing, surviving. You feel so achingly lonely.

John doesn’t approach you once. You have become a specter, more distant than ever. And though he and the others feel a creeping sense of guilt- Kyle finds himself lingering outside your door, only to turn away with clenched fists; Johnny’s jokes die in his throat when he hears your name; Simon stares at the spot you used to take during the dinners and lunches he’d join; John stares at the very few portraits of you that line the walls and wonders how he’d even go about approaching you- none of them move to truly mend the gaping distance between you. They regret their neglect, but they do not know how to fix it. Or maybe they are simply too late.

[burningcheese-merchant]

I know you're a burningcheese merchant but can we have some hcs or snippets for mysticcacao 👉👈

You don't have to do it if you mind

Popping back in for just a minute to become mysticcacao-merchant, just for you 🫵

They'd probably take things quite slow, mostly due to Flour's shyness and embarrassment (and a bit of honest shame, really. She never thought she'd be shackled by meaningless emotions again, love least of all. But Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome came and stole not only her Soul Jam, but her heart... truly, life is suffering). But Cacao doesn't mind. He's very much a gentleman (more so than even Pure Vanilla), he will not say or do anything she doesn't want him to and respects her boundaries with zero complaint. (He's a bit nervous and uncomfortable for a while, too, so she's not really alone there lol)

They end up doing a lot of activities together where they don't really talk. Lots of long walks through the mountains, many games of Go, even meditating together (first they sat a ways away apart from each other, then when they became comfortable enough, they started sitting back-to-back). The silence doesn't bother them at all; they're both the sort of person who appreciates quiet moments like that, and they don't necessarily need to talk to understand each other.

He once gave her his coat to wear (the one that's part of the "Vanquisher of the Two Dragons" costume) because he noticed she was cold. Later, when it was time to part ways, he asked if she wanted to hold onto it. She said no. He reached for it and got slapped really hard with her ribbons. This happened several times before he got the message and just went home without it lol ("why are women like this", he wondered to himself)

She's not that far from him height-wise (5'9'' vs 6'1'', in my headcanon), so he never has to bend down much to kiss her. (He likes to just get close and press quick little kisses to her forehead)

This moment? In both of their heads?

RENT. FUCKING. FREE.

They went to the Dumpling Soup Hot Springs once and Flour saw Cacao take his shirt off and almost fucking died (he kept his pants on, thank goodness, she would've returned to flour on the spot if he stripped any further than he did)

They exchange letters a lot because Flour refuses to leave Beast-Yeast and Cacao can't visit her often (he has a kingdom to run and bad guys to fight). Flour arranged for a bird native to her mountain to be the one to come and go with letter deliveries, since it's very tough and would remember how to make the journey. Cacao keeps her letters in a box hidden somewhere in his room, Flour keeps his tucked on a shelf in her study in the Ivory Pagoda. They both really like each other's handwriting/calligraphy

Their kisses are almost always quite chaste. Flour is too hesitant to ask for more and Cacao will not push unless she explicitly asks for it... but they both want it lol. It's just a matter of Flour learning to be bold and allowing herself to indulge her own wants

They're able to get along a lot easier than the other Ancients and Beasts might because they already aren't that different from each other. Both are very calm, disciplined, serious people who tend towards stoicism and asceticism (or just rejection of base wants and desires in general). They just get each other right away, after putting away the "mortal enemies" thing haha

Cloud Haetae is really jealous of Cacao in the "kid is jealous of the man their mom is dating because they're scared he'll take her away and she won't love them anymore and the kid doesn't know better" sort of way. Cacao demonstrates his surprising skill with animals, dogs especially thanks to the cream wolves (Haetae is not a dog but it works anyway lol), and wins the little guy over pretty fast lol

[aliceintheworld]

PURE ATTRACTION | JJK | TATTOO ARTIST

Pairing: TattooArtistJungkook X NaiveReader

Summary: "I shouldn’t be watching a man undressing, specially not from the house next door."

Warning: Angst 🥺 conversation about suicide, depression, uncertainty about oneself, Misuk being the best character of all 🫶 Namjoon finally makes an appearance (he appears a little, but then a little more, I promise) Jungkook being an idiot – forgive him, for he doesn't know what he's doing.

A/N: I'm back!! First, I wanted to thank you all for the affection I've been receiving. Thank you so much for the messages and interactions! If you want to send non-anonymous messages, I even prefer it, because I can follow you 🥰 Pure Attraction is a not very elaborate story, I know, but it has become an important part of my life, so I thank you for reading all these chapters, you don't know how much this means. Without further ado, here is the chapter.

P.S.: Later, still today, I will post the next chapter 🤌

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter 10

The journey back home has never felt so long. Minutes pass, yet it feels as if the clock's hands are stuck. I try to take a deep breath, but I can't. My head is filled with memories, occasions when I could have done something different. I was so foolish, so stupid. Filled with regret, I can't even look at myself in the reflection of the window. I remember my father, my mother, and I wonder what they would say if they knew I made a mistake with no way to turn back. My eyes fill with tears, almost instantly, for the fourth time today alone. Mrs. Jeon remains silent, looking through the coffee table of her house.

She sighs and gaze at her own hands before locking eyes with me, as if she understands me in some way. But I don’t know if anyone could comprehend what I’m going through at this moment. I feel... used. As if, even with my consent, Jungkook took advantage of me, of my innocence and of my inexperience. At the same time, I can't place all the blame on him. I made a mistake, I should have been more cautious and I let him inside of my life.

"Are you okay?" Misuk asks, almost in a whisper. I try to shake my head and force a smile, but I can't. She sways her hair and clicks her tongue nervously. "I can't believe Jungkook did this to you, dear. He’s my son, but I don’t agree with any of this."

"He’s not the only one to blame," I deny; I barely recognize my own voice, weak and trembling.

The last time I saw myself this way was when, during a difficult year, I didn't want to visit my father's grave, and my mother opposed it. The anguish is different, but equally overwhelming.

"Can you explain how you two got so… close?" she questions. "I mean, it hasn’t been long since he came to Busan. Did you have many opportunities to talk?"

"A few." I shrug. That doesn’t matter now. I’m angry and don’t want to talk to anyone. I want to lock myself in my room and pretend everything was a terrible nightmare. "Sorry, I don't even know where to begin. I feel awful."

"You can talk to me."

"You’re his mother."

"I am." She smiles, placing a hand on mine, gently caressing my skin. I immediately feel a maternal love and care I haven’t experince in years. My crying intensifies as I realize that the person I need right now isn’t with me—my mother. Even if she were here, she wouldn’t help. She would judge me, make me feel bad about my mistakes, just as she has done in the past, and I don't need this right now. "Y/N, I’m Jungkook’s mother, but I understand what you’re going through. You have no idea."

"What do you mean?" I frown, confused. Her dark eyes fill with tears, just like mine.

"When I was around your age, I fell in love with a man. He was two years older, and so handsome. He seemed like a dream, someone so different from me, yet so similar—almost like he was a part of me." She tells me looking ahead, as if she could see the memories playing out before her. "He is Jungkook’s father. He was my first love."

"What do you mean?" I whisper. "Mr. Jeon isn’t Jungkook’s father?"

"He isn’t." She shakes her head. "That’s why I say I understand you. It was the first time I fell in love with someone. It was also the first time my trust was broken. When he found out I was pregnant, he left. I was alone, working a part-time job I didn’t even like, that paid poorly and had no support. Those were the worst years of my life."

"Misuk, I don’t know what to say," I respond, with a knot in my throat. She had never shared this while we talked about the past. But I understand her, in a way. It must be hard to relive those memories, and even harder to confide them to someone.

"You don’t have to say anything. I, after all this time, have moved on. The fear of being abandoned, however, still hasn’t healed, even with twenty-six years gone by." She smiles again, but I know she’s more hurt than she wants to show. "Dear, I care about you. I love you like a daughter, even. You’ve been with me during these days, and we’ve grown so close. I see parts of myself in you. The way my mother treated me, the absence of my father. It’s all so similar. That’s why I say I understand you."

"It all happened so… suddenly." I comment to myself, looking down. The shame of crying, and the shame of what I did, prevent me from looking her in the eyes. "I know I should have been more careful, but I was so happy... I don't get it."

"Jungkook, being more experienced than you, should have talked to you, asked what your expectations were, and told you what his intentions were. If he didn’t want something serious, a commitment, he should have warned you." She argues, not letting me continue. It’s as if she wants to lift the guilt I’m feeling, and I'm really thankful for that.

"Yes, but I was so naive. I was a fool to think he could like me the same way I like him." I groan, covering my face as more tears come. My chest hurts just remembering him. His kisses, his touches. He was so gentle with me, treating me like no one else ever had. He listened to me, and that was enough for me.

"Did you... did you have sex?" Misuk asks, running her hand along my back in a comforting gesture that soothes my pain, at least a little.

"I-I... Misuk..."

"It’s okay. You can trust me. You can open up and tell me." She smiles, without judgment. I just shake my head embarrassed, exposed, somewhat humiliated.

"We did it last night. It was very sudden." I try to explain, even if I don’t have many words to do it.

"Was it your first time? Is that why Eunji thinks you slept at my house? She said that yesterday, and I didn’t understand."

"Yes, but that night was the first time I slept at his apartament and we hadn’t done... you know."

"You hadn’t had sex, just other things." She concludes with a smile, tucking my hair behind my ear.

My cheeks burn, even when I try not to. It’s very difficult to talk about this kind of subject, even with Misuk, because I never had anyone to talk to when I was a teenager. My view of sex always came from books, whether educational or romantic.

"That’s it." I confirm, shaking my head.

"Are you in love?" Mrs. Jeon asks me when a silence falls between us.

I take a moment, reflecting about the question as if it were the most difficult one of my life. What does it mean to be in love? Is it feeling a flutter in your chest every time you see the person? Is it having a wild rush of energy that courses through your body uncontrollably? Is it standing still and feeling your heart race a thousand miles an hour? Is it missing that person and wanting to hear from them every day? If that’s the case, then yes, I’m in love. The realization of this fact hurts me even more. It makes me feel weaker. How could I be so foolish? How could I think someone would be interested in me when no one else had?

A flood of memories overwhelms me. If I had known I’d feel this pain, I would have never gotten close to Jungkook. I would have shut my window the first time I saw him, and never opened up again.

"It’s okay." She reassures me, hugging me. I hug her back, trying to purge the feeling of rejection that’s almost lodged in my chest.

"He just turned his back on me. He didn’t even see me when I left. It’s as if he got what he wanted and then I wasn’t worth the effort anymore." I vent, hurt, too wounded to stop the words pouring out.

"Jungkook is a fool." She shakes her head, pressing her lips together. "At the same time, he’s stuck in this messed-up relationship. I’ve told him millions of times that they’re not good for each other. I told him that true love doesn’t hurt, doesn’t deceive, but he’s stubborn like no one else."

"Does he really talk to his ex?" I ask, hoping it’s not as I imagine. That maybe they talk, but not as much as I’ve put in my head.

"The last time we talked about this was two days ago. He told me Namjoon called him, and they had a conversation for twenty minutes. He’s very deluded." She shakes her head, angry. Two days ago we were texting. I know we had no commitment and hadn’t established anything, but to me it’s worse to know he didn’t respect this moment. That it didn’t mean anything to him. While I melted over our messages and smiled like a fool for his attention, he was with his ex, doing the same with someone else.

"Did Namjoon really cheat on Jungkook? Why does he still try? Why does he still talk to him?"

"Namjoon was his first boyfriend. They were together for almost five years, and at one point, they practically lived together. When Jungkook was alone in Seoul, working in a tattoo studio, he met Namjoon and fell in love almost at first sight. He was very shy, introverted, with few friends in the new city. I think that helped them form a strong connection." Misuk explains. She seems to know a lot about the situation, as if she followed everything in detail, even from a distance.

"Have you ever met him... I mean, have you met Namjoon?" I ask, hesitant. My heart races for some reason. My hands feel cold with anxiety.

"Yes." She nods, sighing. "He’s a great guy, I can’t deny that. He works at a book publishing company, very intelligent and kind. I think that’s why Jungkook fell for him. At the same time, Namjoon is someone who wants more. He wants to achieve other things, and when the relationship got in the way of his goals, he didn’t think twice before stepping on everything they built together. Jungkook was devastated."

"How long ago was that?"

"About three months." She says; her body suddenly tenses. "That’s when I tried to take my own life."

"Mrs. Jeon... Jungkook told me what happened." I say, not really knowing if it’s right to tell her the truth. But it’s the first time she’s opened up about the subject, and I don’t think it’s fair, especially now that she told me so much about her past, to hide this from her. Her eyes widen, and then she smiles awkwardly.

"He really is an idiot. He must have told you to keep an eye on me." She says, shaking her head as if recalling her son’s actions, however she doesn't seen to hold any resentment towards him, regarding this. "He’s always been very careful. Always very protective. Jungkook has his flaws, but I think I understand why you fell for him. He’s stubborn but takes care of those he loves. I feel guilty for, even unknowingly, adding this weight to his shoulders. I’ve been feeling better now."

"Are you really okay?" I ask, somewhat uncertain.

"I am. I’m taking my medication, going to therapy, and visiting support groups once a week. Sometimes when I feel bad, I seek comfort. I know that ending my life isn’t an option. I don’t want to leave my son alone." She states. I search her eyes for any hint of untruth, anything that tells me she’s not okay, but I find nothing. I’m glad to know that, at least she, is evolving and improving. "But you know what’s making me feel better, Y/N?"

"What?" I ask, eager to know the answer. Whatever it is, I need an urgent dose of what is making her feel better.

"You." She smiles; more tears appear in her eyes, this time from happiness. "You’ve made my days better. I want you to know you can count on me. For everything." She confesses. Her voice deepens as I break down again.

"Thank you so much." I say sincerely. I have a friend. I have someone I can count on, and that brings me such a great relief that it feels like I could die.

"It’s okay. No more crying Y/N." She gets up from the couch, smiling. She raises her arms and wipes her face with her shirt. "Dear, tell me. Did you use protection? Did you take precautions?"

"No." I flush at the confession, feeling like a child who has no idea of the consequences of her actions. "He went out to buy a morning-after pill, but you arrived and..."

"It’s fine. Don’t worry." She holds her hands up, as if all of this doesn’t matter. "You don’t need to explain. I know that in the heat of the moment, you don’t think about anything. That’s why I had Jungkook when I was twenty." She laughs, making me feel even more embarrassed. "I’ll buy you a pill. Don’t worry; everything will be fine."

"Mrs. Jeon, you don’t have to. I'm going to do it."

"I don’t want to be a grandma so young, Y/N." She jokes, making me laugh too. "And it’s not a problem at all. I want to see you well, and that’s what matters."

"Thank you." I express my gratitude. Not just for the pill, but for everything. Even though it hurts, being here with her alleviates, at least a little, the torment I’m feeling.

"You don’t need to thank me. Everything will be okay." She assures me, and I accept it. I pray to God that all of this I’m feeling will soon come to an end.

"Y/N, what are you doing here?" I hear a voice behind me. I don’t look right away, afraid to fall.

Since the library shelves are very high, I usually use a mobile ladder to organize the books, so before I make sure who it is, I carefully step down the rungs. When I finally reach the ground, I regret coming down. It’s Hayun, Jungkook’s friend. Not because of her, of course, as I enjoyed meeting her, but because of him, who has kept me awake for the past three days.

"Are you okay? It’s been a while since we last saw each other." She smiles. She approaches and kisses my cheek suddenly. She seems to genuinely like me, and I’m grateful for that. Her outgoing personality couldn’t be better right now. My energy, ever since that argument happened, has been dwindling.

"I’m okay." I say, putting on my best smile. "And you? How have you been?"

"Busier every day. With the move and everything."

"You’re moving?" I ask, curious.

"Yes, didn’t Jungkook tell you?" She asks, and just the mention of his name makes my chest ache. The crying and tears have passed, but I’m far from normal with everything that happened. He hasn’t sent me any messages, and I can’t stop thinking that somehow, I was just a conquest for him. A night of sex that is already forgotten.

"No, he didn’t tell me. We haven’t... talked."

"Seriously? He’s been talking a lot about you." I raise an eyebrow, startled.

"What do you mean? What has he said?" The words fly out of my mouth before I can control myself. Hayun laughs, as if she notices my sudden interest.

"He says random things. That you like to read, or that you’re in college and you cook well. Random stuff like that." She comments, approaching one of the shelves to take a look at a book. "Anyway, I’m moving soon. Me and the guys, we’re all going to Seoul."

"With Jungkook?" I bite my lower lip, intrigued.

"Yeah, I’m from Seoul and wanted to go anyway, but we’ve been talking about everyone moving there for years. We were just waiting for Bora and Taehyung to finish college." She closes the book and puts it back, shrugging. I nod in agreement. Good for them. It feels like I’ll be the only one stuck here, stagnant for the rest of my life. I feel bad. I should make a list of topics I can’t discuss without feeling like a fraud. Damn it.

"That’s great... Hayun, I have to go now. I’m working. But it was nice to see you again." I say sincerely. It’s like seeing her again makes me a little closer to Jungkook. I don’t want to think about him, yet simultaneously, I can’t get enough of him. I’m going to go crazy.

"It was nice to see you too, really." She says, smiling. "I don’t want to bother you or anything, but before you go... I wanted to ask, are you going to the party tonight?"

"What party?" I frown, confused.

"The celebration. The studio opened, and we’re having a party at Yoongi’s house. It’ll be the last one before we move to Seoul. What do you think?" She grabs my arm, full of excitement. I shake my head immediately, flustered. Jungkook probably hasn’t told his friends what happened between us, and I don’t know if I should be sad or happy about that.

"I can’t, really." I respond, trying my best expression.

"Come on! Let’s go, Y/N, it’ll be fun. It’s for Jungkook. It’s important to him."

"It’s precisely because of him I’m not going." I whisper to her, softly. Hayun stops smiling and glares at me intently.

"Did something happen? You can tell me. Did the idiot do something to you?"

"He didn’t do anything." I half-lie, half-try to hide. Him sleeping with me while still talking to his ex isn’t exactly a huge thing. We hadn’t established anything serious yet. Though, in my head, he is wrong in any case.

"If he didn’t do anything, you should go. He’s really happy about the studio. He worked for about four years to save the money he needed."

"Hayun..." I sigh, embarrassed. "Actually, something did happen. I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to go. It’s to avoid ruining his night that I’m saying no." I finish, somewhat nervously. My body trembles with sadness and bitterness.

"Hey, you can count on me. I won’t tell the idiot anything you say. I’m a jerk, but not a bad friend." She rolls her eyes, clapping her hands together. I chuckle helplessly. She’s funny. I had forgotten this little detail.

"Alright, but I’ll be brief. I really need to get to work." I say. Hayun nods silently in agreement. "Jungkook and I did have a thing."

"I knew it!" She exclaims, in the middle of the hallway. Since it’s a library, her loud voice echoes throughout the place, drawing the attention of the few customers to us. I laugh in despair, covering my mouth with my hand. "Sorry, I spoke too loud. But I knew it! the way he talks about you... he likes you."

"I don’t think he likes me that much." I whisper, losing my smile. "He doesn’t want commitment, and that’s why we drifted apart. He still seems to care a lot about his ex."

"Namjoon." Hayun grunts his name without enthusiasm, rolling her eyes. Her once cheerful face, suddenly tightens. "I know. I liked him until I found out what he did to Jungkook. No one has spoken to him since."

"Yeah. Well. That’s why I think it’s better not to go. I want this to be a good moment for him, anyway. I don’t want to cause any discomfort." I vent, gathering my hands that get sweaty, every time I think about this topic. I have to swallow hard to avoid more tears and appearing like a fool in front of his friend.

"I still think you should go. You won’t ruin anyone’s night; I’m sure of that. And it's Yoongi’s house, it’s not like you can’t go." The brunette argues.

"Even so, the party is for him."

"Y/N, Jungkook won’t be in Busan for long. Don’t you think it’s better for you to talk, whether to end whatever it is you have, so you can both move on without resentment?" She suggests, making me think.

I shake my head for the tenth time in this conversation. I don’t know if it would be a good idea. It’s the first time I’ve ever had feelings for someone, and I don’t know if to end what I feel, I should talk to him. My romantic experiences are based on books, and in books, the heroines are never rejected. Just imagining even for a second, if I go to this party Jungkook will show discomfort or indifference, makes me panic. A strong shiver runs through my whole body with the thought.

"I don’t know if it’s a good idea." I reply, shrugging. Hayun sighs, tapping her boot on the wooden floor.

"Okay. Let’s do this: you’ll go. Stay for five minutes. If you see it’s better not to force things and forget all of this, I’ll take you home myself." She says, putting her hands together as if in prayer.

"You’re quite persistent, huh." I murmur, laughing. I roll my eyes, reflecting. Should I talk to him? Should I give myself a chance to hear him out and maybe understand his side? Even if we don’t end up together, and I end up sad, wouldn’t it be better to finish whatever it is we had, so I can move on?

For the past three days, all I could think about was him. There hasn’t been a single hour where I could relax, read, or watch something like I always did. I sigh, groaning. Then I nod my head, still unsure. My mother is still out of town, and that gives me a little more freedom than usual. Hayun lets out a high-pitched scream and bounces around, hugging me. It’s as if with my decision alone, I’ve made her day happier.

"You’re going to love it! Yoongi’s parties are always so much fun." She assures me with a confidence I don’t have. I went to a party once, and I remember hating everything. Both the music and the people.

"I hope so." I laugh, not very sure about what I’m doing. I want to give up on this idea because it makes no sense, and at the same time, I want to show that I’m brave. That I can face my fears. I don’t want to run away of everything forever.

I can do this!

I can’t do this. I can’t do this!

I look at my outfit and feel like going back outside, running after the taxi I took to get here. My long dress, made of thick fabric, has nothing to do with what these people wear. It’s as if I live on another planet, literally. The music is upbeat, playing from two speakers in the middle of the room. It’s good, considering the bizarre things I’ve heard out there. The lights are all purple, giving the place a sensual and enigmatic look. There are many people, and none of them I know. On one hand, I thank God for not running into Jungkook. On the other, I wish he’d appear before me out of nowhere, just so I could put an end to all of this, once and for all.

But what would I say? You’re a bastard, Jungkook. You didn’t promise me anything, but actions speak louder than words. Your actions didn’t show me you still loved your ex. I could say all of that, but how would it help me? Being honest with myself, I came because I felt afraid that, that morning, three days ago, would be the last time I would see him. The last time I could look into his eyes and feel his presence. I am truly in love, and I don’t want to hold onto another regret in my life.

I look side to side, trying to find Hayun, but in the middle of so many people, it’s hard to recognize anyone. I walk through the room, bumping into a few women. They don’t mind, though. I don’t know the environment very well, but the further I get from the crowd, the more I can enter the open backyard, which has a huge pool. Hayun sent me the address an hour ago; maybe if I called her, I could find her more easily. When I take my phone out of my small bag, determined to complete the call, I spot a red-haired figure that catches my attention. Yoongi. It must be him. I walk slowly towards his group of friends, feeling apprehensive, afraid of accidentally colliding into Jungkook.

"Y/N! Over here!" I confirm my suspicions when Hayun waves her arms in the air, as she recognizes me despite the low light. I smile faintly, walking closer to everyone. They all seem unbelievably beautiful, well-dressed, with an air of excitement that I don’t possess. "You made it! I thought you got lost."

"I took a taxi. It’s just far from where I live." I apologize, shrugging.

"Don’t worry. I haven’t had anything to drink. If you need anything, I’ll take you home, okay?" She smiles, placing her sunglasses on the top of her head. Hayun looks prettier when she does that. "Guys, look who’s here. Y/N!"

I shake my head, greeting them. They seem happy to see me, which relieves 50% of my worries. My stiff and tense shoulders, from imagining scenarios where none of them wanted to see me. I’m relieved to realize that this isn’t happening in reality.

"Y/N, how are you?" Bora kisses my cheek, just like the other girls. Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung nod, sipping something from their cups.

"I’m good." I smile, feeling awkward. I look around for Jungkook, but he’s nowhere in sight. At least not as far as I can see. "It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other."

"Right? What have you been up to, Y/N?" Yoori, Taehyung’s girlfriend, asks. I open my mouth to respond, but I don’t have much to say.

"I’ve been working a lot." I say, honestly. Partly because it’s true, and partly because I don’t know how far I can tell. Do Yoongi, Jimin or Taehyung know that I was with Jungkook? I’m so paranoid about this I can hardly look them in their eyes.

"She works at the Dongseo University bookstore. When I went to pick up some books, I found her there." Hayun circles her arm around my shoulder, smiling. I nod in agreement. "Y/N, Jungkook is around here; he went to get something to drink." She whispers the last part in my ear, trying to keep everyone else from hearing, and with all this noise, it’s not too hard.

My breath catches when I think I might run into him at any moment. My heart beats like it’s going to burst out of my chest, and my legs feel like jelly from so much nervousness. When I think of a mantra to calm me down and finally face things like a normal person, head held high, I see him coming toward his friends, not really seeing them. It’s as if he’s so lost in thought that he can’t see anyone a foot in front of him. Hayun beside me suddenly gasps. She mutters something near me, and I only feel her tense body, because she is pressed against mine. Everyone looks at Jungkook with expressions of discomfort that I can't quite understand.

"Y/N, I’m sorry. I didn’t... I didn’t know." She says, shaking her head. I frown, confused. What’s happening?

"What’s wrong? Is everything okay?" I ask, anxious, feeling all kinds of emotions at once.

"That guy next to Jungkook." She says, discreetly pointing to a very handsome man, just a few inches taller than him. "That guy is..."

"Namjoon? What’s he doing here?" Jimin questions, crossing his arms over his chest, interrupting his friend. My eyes widen as they approach. My whole body pulls back, and I want to disappear. To be swallowed by the earth and never inhabit this world again. But it’s too late. Jungkook is already here. And his dark, big eyes grow wider when they see me.

"Y/N?" He asks, confused.

Fuck.

"J-Jungkook. Hi." I nod my head. The fear of making any move and embarrassing myself in front of everyone, is overwhelming. The fear that he might just ignore me and pretend I don’t exist, is even greater. I swallow hard, frozen in place. I can’t even greet him properly.

Jungkook doesn’t move either. He stares at me in a static way, and everyone in the group seems to notice. Even Namjoon, his ex-boyfriend. He’s handsome. With his black hair, lean strong body, and a masculine perfume that exudes confidence. My insecurities about myself intensifies. If I had known he would be here, I would have never come. I was a fool to think this would be a good closure. Jungkook hasn’t wanted to talk to me for the past three days. Why would he want to talk to me now? The urge to cry returns, and I’m tired of this situation.

"I didn’t know you’d come, Namjoon." Hayun says beside me, still with her arms around my shoulders. I lower my head, embarrassed.

"I decided at the last minute. I had to come to support Jungkook." He smiles, and he’s even more attractive when he does, forming charming dimples on his cheeks.

"Wonderful." Yoongi grins, but I have the feeling it’s not very sincere. His dark eyes show feelings far from happiness. "I hope you came to stay for a short time. I don’t want certain people in my house."

"Yoongi!" Jungkook scolds his friend, and my throat tightens. Is he defending his ex-boyfriend? Doesn’t he realize the gravity of what Namjoon did? He cheated on him!

"Don’t worry." He places a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder and squeezes it with an intimacy that makes me extremely uncomfortable. "I came just to see you; I won’t stay long, anyway."

"He was kidding." Jungkook clarifies to him, his voice somewhat hoarse. Then he lowers his head and looks at me again. His eyes are so intense that I have to take a deep breath, struggling to breathe normally. "Actually, I need to talk to Y/N."

"What?" I ask, surprised. My body tenses up again, stiff. Hayun lets out a small smile that everyone notices, and shakes her hair, almost as if the whole situation were a movie, and she’s the spectator.

"I told you it would be a good idea for you to come." She says, and her voice is so loud that it’s as if she wants everyone to hear, especially Namjoon, who bites his lips and watches me. His gaze is enigmatic. I can’t tell if he feels anger or discomfort. Or neither.

"Hayun, please..." I whisper. "And Jungkook, I was actually leaving."

"You weren’t." Hayun argues, furrowing her brow. "You just got here, and you’re staying. You’re welcome here."

"I don’t know..."

"Please, Y/N, I wanted to talk to you. Stay a little longer." Jungkook whispers, biting his rosy lips. His face looks sad, but I can’t believe it’s because of me. If he liked me, even a little, he wouldn’t be standing next to his ex with almost an intimate proximity. I can’t understand him. Not at all.

"Okay." I agree, uncomfortable with everyone watching us, as if we’re animals in a zoo. I don’t want to imagine what they’re thinking.

"Namjoon, I’ll talk to Y/N. I’ll be back soon." He smiles faintly, looking at the dark-haired man. Namjoon just nods and gaze at me one more time.

"Okay. No problem. I’ll stay here with your friends." He says, and I catch a glimpse of Jimin sighing as he takes a large gulp of his drink.

We move away from the group in silence. His hand approaches the end of my back, but he doesn’t touch me. My brain feels like it’s going to fry. There’s so much I want to say, and at the same time, so much that isn’t worth saying. I feel so bad. The way he said he would return to his ex is one of those reasons. Why does he stay in this relationship? Doesn’t he realize he would be happier if he just distanced himself from Namjoon? But that’s my opinion, and he clearly doesn’t think that way. We approach a tree, further away from the party, in the backyard. I lean my back against it, fearing I won’t have strength in my legs. I can’t even look him in the eyes. I don’t have the courage for that. We stand in silence for a few seconds, but it feels like an eternity.

"Are you okay?" He asks me quietly. If he weren’t so close and we weren’t so far from the music, I wouldn’t be able to hear him.

"I am." I respond, trying to form a smile that isn’t real. "And you?"

"Yeah." He smiles too; he tosses his hair back, closes his eyes and sighs, watching me. "You look very beautiful."

"Thank you." I say, feeling awkward. I don’t feel beautiful; I feel terrible.

"Y/N, I don’t know what to say." He says, placing his hand on the trunk of the tree, behind me. His scent invades my nose whether I like it or not. I have to use all my self-control not to respond to any of his movements. "I haven’t been well since that morning. I don’t feel good."

"You don’t feel good." I repeat his words, finding it amusing. He doesn’t feel good? Seriously?

"You may not believe it, but I had to hold myself back from calling you."

"You could have called." I shrug, speaking. My voice sounds ironic, but I can’t be any different. I’m angry. So angry and sad. It’s as if all the bad feelings are inside my chest right now.

"I could, but I shouldn’t. I wanted to take some time to think, and you needed that too." He argues, furrowing his brow. "I want you to know that Namjoon is here, but I didn’t know he would come. It was a surprise to me too."

"You must have been thrilled." I respond with a not-so-happy smile. Jungkook runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek, and tightens his jaw, irritated.

"I wasn’t thrilled. I’m not happy, if that’s what you're saying."

"Jungkook... I get it. You want to be with him. I may be inexperienced, but I can read the situation. You don’t need to explain yourself to me. There’s nothing to explain. I just came because I wanted to say I’m happy for you. To congratulate you. Just that."

"You didn’t come just for that." He says in denial. "I can see it in your eyes."

"You know me so well, don’t you?" I respond ironically, trying to hide the extent to which I’m affected. I want to leave. I shouldn’t have come to this party. I shouldn’t be here with him.

"Y/N, please..."

"Jungkook, what are you doing here with me?" I lose my patience, finally reaching my limit. I push away from the tree, my stomach churning. "Why aren’t you with him? With Namjoon? I’m not important to you, so why are you pretending like I am?!"

"I already told you to stop acting like you know me better than I know myself." He grunts, his face reddening with anger.

"It doesn’t matter what you say. I’ve already told you: actions speak louder than words, and you’ve proven that to me since that morning. You didn’t call me for three days simply because you didn’t want to!"

"Y/N..."

"You don’t want to be with me, and that’s fine. You don’t have to be. I already understand where your limits are; just... just don’t pretend to like me if you don’t care about me!" I finish, trembling. My eyes fill with tears, and I feel so vulnerable, anxious. Jungkook has always brought out the best in me, and now I don’t even recognize myself.

"I care about you." He moves closer, furrowing his brows. His dark eyes grow bright. If it weren’t for the lack of light, I could swear he’s about to cry too. He gets even closer and touches my cheek with his hand, gently caressing my skin, sending chills down my spine. I want to pull away from him, but I can’t. "Y/N, I really like you. I didn’t call because I needed some time."

"Stop..." I plead, in a whisper. Both for his words and for his touches. I wrap my hand around his wrist, but I don’t halt him from continuing. I don’t move, half weak, half uncertain, afraid he’ll stop and nervous he’ll keep going.

"I missed you." Jungkook says softly in my ear. His body almost fully pressed against mine. His breath hits my neck; his strong chest touching my breasts. And I don’t know if it’s his heart or mine, racing a thousand miles an hour, so fast and strong.

"Jungkook, stop." I beg, but I can’t pull away myself. He takes his face away from my neck and looks at me once more. His pupils dilate, and they go straight to my mouth. A shiver runs through my entire body as he moistens his lips with his tongue, with a desire so exposed that I can’t mistake it for anything else. And I let him come closer, so damn slowly, as if we’re in slow motion. When I finally close my eyes, surrendered, hypnotized, I hear someone calling him.

"Jungkook?"

Ask for a TAGLIST in the comments

@joonwater @ane102 @ttipa @kookienooki

[syrupfog]

Sometimes Usopp has nightmares.

Not ones of his mom dying— no, those are no more than a dull ache now. But nightmares of being thrown at the feet of the man who single handedly started off the worst week of his life. Made him feel useless and broken.

Franky.

Usopp doesn’t think Franky bothers to remember how they met. In the grand scheme of things, it’s not important, right? They’re on the same team now, on the WINNING team. Franky built them the best ship in the world, and even made Usopp a tribute to Merry with the mini merry.

But sometimes at night, he’s trapped in that moment again, where he’s thrown at the feet of the man who was head of the Franky Family, who looked down on him like he was dirt, and scoffed when Usopp demanded their berri back.

And it happens all over again; getting attacked, hit again and again until he feels the crack of his bones and darkness billows into his vision, until the last thing he sees is Franky, behind that iron mask he wore, looking down at Usopp with, somehow worst of all, INDIFFERENCE.

And Usopp wakes up with a gasp, clutching his heart, sweat pouring off of him, only to find Franky snoring peacefully in the bunk below him.

And somehow that. That hurts.

It shouldn’t. They’ve made amends. They’ve reconciled. Franky has time and again wept with him and for him.

But that moment started off the worst week of Usopp’s life, and Usopp cannot help but wonder if everything would’ve gone down differently if Franky’s goons hadn’t touched him. If he’d had the same time to process as everyone else, had heard the news with everyone else.

Would he have still left the crew? Fought Luffy?

The fight still haunts him. He’s always been a useless failure of a pirate, but—

Usopp’s just not sure why Luffy even let him back.

And as his thoughts spiral and his pounding heart rate slows, Usopp blinks crusted tears from his eyes and wishes, DESPERATELY wishes, that he could have just BEEN Franky from the beginning.

He’s good with his hands. Maybe if he had just started studying to be a shipwright they never would’ve gotten to that point. Franky’s all but replaced him on the ship anyway, hasn’t he? He’s like everything that Usopp is, but better.

Stumbling out of his bunk, trying and failing to be quiet about it, Usopp slinks out of the bunk room and onto the deck. It’s a night so foggy that not even the moon lights their path. The lanterns hung on either side of the door to the kitchen the only things casting hazy light.

Which is why he jumps out of his skin when Brook appears in front of him like a ghost in the night.

“Yohohoho,” Brook laughs softly. “I’m sorry to have startled you, young master Usopp! I was simply out for a midnight stroll!”

Usopp blinks. “You’re not on watch?”

“No, it is our Captain’s turn right now. He’s up in the crow’s nest. I was thinking I might play him a tune— I’m not in need of much sleep these days— but perhaps you might be in need of it a bit more than him?”

Usopp doesn’t feel in NEED of a tune. He feels in need of sticking his head in a bucket of ice water, perhaps, to get his thoughts out of the dark place they’re spiraling towards. But he doesn’t want to disappoint Brook. “Sure,” he says. “What have you got cooking up?”

Brook’s violin is out in a heartbeat— although he has no heart— and after a few tuning notes, he begins a slow, deep rendition of Bink’s Saké. Usopp recognizes the melody but Brook has managed to turn it almost into a funeral dirge. Something mournful, crying out.

He feels like he’s intruding just by listening to it.

When the song is finished, Brook seems to breathe out (can he do that?) and with his breath his whole skeleton collapses down, like a marionette with all but one of its strings cut.

“I think, sometimes,” says Brook, “that I am not worthy of being the one who survived.”

Usopp wants to jump to his defense, tell him that Brook is NEEDED and NECESSARY and they COULDN’T DO THIS WITHOUT HIM.

But he remembers how empty those words sounded in the moment as Chopper yelled them, as Usopp left the crew on Water 7. Like empty appeasing platitudes.

“I think…�� Usopp says, slowly, carefully, “that worthiness isn’t something that matters, in the end.”

He’s sitting on the deck, the chill numbing his feet. Brook goes to sit, gingerly, next to him.

“I think that the only thing that actually matters are the choices you make— and not EVERY choice. But the most recent choices.” He peters off for a moment. Brook looks especially creepy in the fog. “Whatever happened that led to you being here doesn’t matter. What matters is your choice now. And tomorrow. What matters is continuing on.”

He doesn’t believe it, not really. His choices haunt him. Every lie haunts him.

“I don’t make good choices,” he concedes, looking down at his calloused hands. “But I want to. I’m trying.”

Even if he doesn’t want to keep trying, sometimes.

Brook leans back, silent as a ghost for a moment, and then, quietly, “I know you are, master Usopp. You are not as lost as you think.”

Usopp doesn’t say anything after that.

Brook doesn’t either.

The morning comes with hot sun and the pounding of feet across the deck. Usopp wakes with a crick in his neck and shade over his eyes.

He blinks, inhaling the scent of pancakes. As his vision clears, he realises he’s only able to have slept so long because a straw hat had been placed over his head, hiding his face from the worst of the morning sun.

Usopp groans.

He pulls it lower, hiding the heat in his cheeks

“It’s the choices you make today,” he tells himself. “Not the old ones. Just the ones today and tomorrow and tomorrow.”

Because maybe if he tells himself that everyday, someday he’ll even believe it.

And until then, he can lie.

[ilovedagain]

A short story about Damian Wayne and what colors mean to him.

"Maybe we should speak in a simpler way," the therapist said to the artist. After thirty minutes of stony silence, she was still trying to get the artist to say a word. "Talk to me about colors. What does blue mean to you?"

The artist's first thought was Richard. A man in black and blue who flew through the navy night sky, untethered by gravity. Skin mottled the same black and blue underneath his clothes. He tried to hide from everyone, burying his hurt deep. As if, perhaps, if he couldn't see it, others wouldn't see it too. He would guard his emotions, guard others—the fool—but he wouldn't guard himself.

"Guardian," the artist finally said about blue. He could talk about colors. He re-crossed his arms for the third time, aware of how obvious his discomfort was but unable to help it.

He knew how to face judgment, harden his heart and list his failings to superiors. But the therapist was nonjudgmental, asking him about colors, and he never learned how to guard against someone without ulterior motives.

"What about yellow?"

The artist swallowed. Yellow was the color of the cape he tried to steal from a boy who needed it as much as him. It was a flash of brightness in an unforgiving world where he had to fight dirty and vicious to earn his place. At least, that was the world before everything changed. Before the world softened around the edges and suddenly he was the dark, unforgiving one.

"Regret."

The therapist hummed. A soft, melodic sound beneath the crashing waves in his ears. Maybe she could hear how loud his heartbeat was because she didn't push him to elaborate. "Pink?"

The artist almost smiled. Pink was the tongue of his cat, stuck out in her sleep.

"Cute."

Unlike him, the therapist didn't hold back her smile.

"Black?"

That was an easy one. The color of mystery. The color of the void in his life; the empty space beside his mother. That void captured his younger self's mind, always wondering what the void was like. What it would make of him. The hard part was saying aloud, to the therapist, what it meant to him.

"Father," he said, and immediately regretted his honesty.

She nodded, not making a big deal of it.

"Red?"

The artist exhaled deeply. He thought of many things. The red of his eye-veins when he was stressed. The red blotches of blood blooming like roses on a white bandage wrapped and wrapped around a head wound, vaguely bouquet-like. The red-chested robins he found in his father's gardens and fed seeds as he sketched their innocence.

The red helmet of a man, who was really a boy, desperate and different from his family. Living despite all the odds saying he should be long dead by now.

"Life," the artist said. He let his arms drop, suddenly drained like a nurse had drawn a liter of his blood.

"Green?"

The artist froze. He stared at the therapist, wondering about her angle. Did she know where he came from—his hometown and its lifeblood? Was this the goal of her little game of colors, how she would finally glean his thoughts about his childhood home?

When he was a young boy, in a kingdom of sand and gold, green was everywhere. The green fields in a greenhouse of extinct plants. In the green eyes of his mother and grandfather, the very same eyes as his own. And in the green pools that restored life, a miracle he beheld almost daily.

He would stand before those miracle waters, anxiously waiting for his loved ones to emerge, contemplating mirages and how it must be a lie to restore life after death. And yet, his pets had survived a plague, his mother had survived a stab wound, and his grandfather had survived cancer. He was a child who believed he was lucky.

"We're finished here." He stood and left, fifteen minutes before the end of the session, disregarding the therapist's soft-spoken plea to wait.

Richard greeted him in the waiting room with a smile that vanished when he saw his face. He sprang to his feet, abandoning the magazine unceremoniously on the chair, and matched Damian's brisk pace out of the building.

"What happened?" Richard took a shaky breath when Damian ignored him in favor of speed-walking to the parking lot. Richard placed a hand on his shoulder as they reached the car. He bent his head to meet his eyes, but Damian stubbornly turned his head away. His eyes were so, so blue. "Dami, what happened?"

Damian knew, and he knew Dr. Dinah knew, that refusing to discuss that color spoke volumes, more than anything he had said during the session.

"Home," Damian whispered, feeling like a child crying on his first day of kindergarten. "Please, I just want to go home."

They didn't converse during the car ride home, though Richard stole glances at him, his unspoken words palpable in the silence. Damian fled to his room and spent dinner there. He was too restless to sleep and too exhausted to study. Tugged between the urge to fight and to freeze.

Like how all roads lead to Rome, he ended up painting. He set up an easel taller than himself and began mixing colors until he had every shade of green. He thought about home. His old home, the one in an unforgiving world where death was both constant and impossible, where pain was as abundant as gold, but at least the world made sense. The strong survived, and the strongest conquered. They even conquered death.

The scene he painted was a view inside a tower. Stone walls stretched up into infinite flights of stairs, with assassins lined up in rows on each level. The pool at the bottom cast a thick, green hue over the darkness. But the pool was an afterthought; the focus was on the walls of the tower.

He knew those walls well. They were made of bulging rocks that lay unevenly. When they were bathed in a green haze, Damian couldn't help but think they resembled cancer cells under a microscope. And that was precisely how he painted them: a tower with walls like tumor cells, splotches of assassins in the darkness, and the gaping green pool at the bottom.

Poison. Green is poison.

[dnangelic]

if daisuke ever says that he doesn't want dark he's lying and hurting himself. btw.

[readwritealldayallnight]

Simon’s never given much thought to babies before.

When he was younger, enough time was spent scorning his father and the childhood he was depriving him of, that any thoughts of becoming a dad himself one day were nonexistent. As far as he was concerned, he was essentially already a stand in parent to his younger brother.

As he grew older and enlisted, his life becoming one that consisted of nothing more than violence and destruction and terror, he thought the odds of him surviving into his 30’s were so slim that he need never bother worrying about having a ‘next of kin’.

That was until, he met you, of course.

Because now that Simon Riley has you in his life, he’s not quite so pessimistic about his existence the way he once was, doesn’t picture a foreboding dark cloud when he considers what his future could be. What a future with you could be.

Still, as much time as the two of you spend actually engaging in the baby making process, Simon really only considers babies as being something that other people have, not him.

Not with his line of work, not with the risks that come alongside the territory, not when he already can barely stand to leave you for deployment, let alone leave you behind with a child on top of everything.

No, Simon is perfectly content with his life where babies are just another anomale.

But then, your best friend announces she’s pregnant. And the sight of you holding a positive pregnancy test in your hands, changes something within him.

Suddenly, Simon is noticing chubby, drooling little infants everywhere he goes.

Fat babies shoved into the uncomfortable looking seats of grocery carts pass by him in the shops, crying babies strapped to their mums on the tube, sleeping babies being pushed around in their prams without a care in the world. Even on base, he notices more people talking about their children, showing off picture of their offspring.

He’s looking at you a little different as well. His gaze on you will darken as you and your friend chat about baby names, casually mentioning the ones that you like for yourself. His grip will tighten around the shopping cart when you wave to passing babies, making them giggle. He’s surprised at the way his cock twitches when you pretend to hold a breast pump up to your own chest, wrapping the baby shower gift you’d gotten her.

It only takes so long for you to notice the change in him as well.

You’ll be strolling through the park on a chilly morning when a young family goes by, Simon muttering something about how the little bald headed infant ‘should have a hat on for fuck’s sake, cold out ‘ere’. You’ll be in the shops, when suddenly Simon returns holding a pair of teeny tiny baby shoes in his hand, appearing comically small in his large calloused palms, wondering if maybe your friend would like them. You’re sitting outside a cafe while a pair of chubby cheeked babies are sat in their strollers staring at Simon as if their lives depended on it. You’re giggling to yourself, watching your boyfriend stare right back at these little girls, when the 6’4” tank of a man slowly lifts a gloved hand and waves at them, earning a pair of gummy smiles in return.

The most evident change in Simon however, is in bed.

Almost overnight, he goes from never having considered children, to suddenly dedicating every effort to getting you pregnant by the end of the year, month, week.

[with-my-calamitous-love]

MY REPUTATIONS NEVER BEEN WORSE, SO

katsuki bakugou x reader

how he’d treat you in a relationship

same concept as the todoroki, kirishima, shinso, izuku, touya ver.

inspired by delicate

katsuki bakugou, who’s got a reputation. who is a harsh, abrasive asshole. who is known for his temper, and for his power. who knows that being with him isn’t for the best. who knows that anyone who wants to be with him has to like him for him.

katsuki bakugou, who almost always texts you at night. who makes your phone light up through the black, daring you talk to him. who is actually so funny and considerate, but would never let anyone know that. who will absolutely not go to sleep without texting you goodnight.

katsuki bakugou, who struggles to make promises with you. who, for once in his life, isn’t fully sure of himself. who prefers to live day by day with you. who isn’t sure if he can give you forever, but who will make you a drink and take care of you after. who slowly learns that forever is loving you day by day.

katsuki bakugou, who, though he’d never in a million years admit it, is insecure. who, behind his gruff features and anger-induced explosions, questions himself. who wonders if its okay that he bought you two concert tickets two months into your relationship, of if its chill that you’re in his head.

katsuki bakugou, who is so handsome- and he doesn’t even realize it. who wears beat up nikes and dark blue to see you. who prefers those private dates, the ones where he can love you in secret. who is a mansion with a view, with a key only you own. who loves the way your face lights up when he finally surprises you with flowers or chocolate. who thinks its dumb, but chases that high forever.

katsuki bakugou, who touches you like no one else. who knows you’re the only girl that could possibly bring him to his knees like this. who spends long nights with your hands in his hair. who wants to stay with you, and doesn’t wanna share.

katsuki bakugou, who is still an asshole despite being loving and caring. who calls you idiot, and dumbass, while he picks you up and carries you to the couch so you can cuddle. who, despite popular belief, is really sweet when he helps you study. who hides a smirk whenever he sees you succeed. who sometimes teaches you the wrong thing so you’ll come back and ask him to explain it again.

katsuki bakugou, who is made to be a caregiver. who loves cooking with you, reaching up to grab that book on the shelf you can’t reach. who insists on giving you his hoodie, because he never really gets cold. who secretly restocks your fridge for you and reminds you to eat something other than just cupped noodles. who shows he loves largely through actions.

katsuki bakugou, who loves back hugs. who always wraps his muscular arms around you whenever you’re doing anything, pressing his sweet lips just underneath your ear before whispering something to you. “i love you, idiot. move, i’ll help you with those dishes.”

katsuki bakugou, who learns that his reputation is just that- a reputation. its a perception of him, not who he really is. who wonders if you dream of him while you sleep the way he does. who pretends your his, all the damn time. who learns that he doesn’t have to pretend anymore.

katsuki bakugou, who you love for who he is. who is tough, and strong, and loves you delicately. who learns to promise you forever.

[midday-clouds]

Yandere Batfamily x Neglected & "Immortal" Reader 》 II

Part I Part III Part IV

Thank you so much for the love for the first one! 💞 There are so many ways I can imagine how this story can go and it's hard to pick one or try merging all the ideas. Nonetheless, I hope this meets your expectations!

CW: Stalking, Breaking and entering, Violence(Being stabbed, beating up a thief), Blood, (Menstion of past) Kidnapping

You had officially moved into your apartment in Bludhaven

Everything has moved so quickly and now you can finally relax

You gave up connecting with your family, got kidnapped, died, came back to life and moved out

It may be a bit much to pick the farthest college from the manor but you’re clearly unwanted there

Your family has neglected you and didn't do anything when you were kidnapped, so you have every right to be as far away from them as possible

It was honestly quite lucky that you were already accepted into a college in Bludhaven during your senior year. If you had applied after your kidnapping, the chances of you getting in would have been low.

But you’re here now and can finally feel happy. Well, if you don't count some of the nightmares you get from when you “died”.

Sometimes you do wonder how you survived that gunshot. Were you not hit somewhere vital? But then, where was the hole?

A part of you was curious and wanted to replicate the injury but that would be painful. You surviving the gunshot also could have been a one-time thing

You never ended up going to the police or the hospital because what were they going to do? You don’t have any proof that it even happened because your injury is gone, the blood left at the abandoned building is likely dried up and doesn’t look fresh, and Bruce probably threw away the ransom letter. 

The only proof you have that it even happened is your memories and you telling your friends. But the police or doctors would just look at you and say “You look fine now, no need to look into the situation anymore.” 

But enough about that though, you’ve got a few more hours before it gets dark and you want to get to know about the area.

It is still the middle of summer so your college classes haven't started yet. You could have waited until class started to move but you wanted to be out before Alfred returned from his vacation.

Alfred was the closest thing to family in the manor. But he and Bruce have never felt like safe adults to share your problems with. 

He should be back from his vacation now, has he found out about your kidnapping or did Bruce cover it up? He probably did to avoid getting news out. You should probably look into how you can change your surname.

Just as you finish your thoughts about the manor, you use your laptop to find interesting places in the area before heading out the door with directions in a notebook

Bruce and the rest of the family may know where you are currently, but bringing you back home was the hard part. Alfred had to convince Bruce that if he wanted you back, he shouldn’t just barge in all of a sudden. 

You’ve been hurt by the family's actions and won't return without a fight. 

But even then, Bruce has to see you. The entire family needs to see you with their own eyes at least once.

With this in mind, the whole family decides to take a small road trip to Bludhaven. They’d find you and figure out the best way to approach you without scaring you off. 

It was almost sundown when the family got to Bludhaven. They change into their vigilante gear so it’d be easier to hide in the shadows

Tim loads up the tracker on your phone and leads the way. It seems the tracker you have isn't the best because once the family gets close to your apartment, your phone just says your laptop is nearby instead of its exact location. 

No problem though, Tim can easily hack into the computer system for the apartment and find which room is yours.

Once your room is found, the family takes a peek inside. You’re nowhere to be found, which is a little worrying.

The locks on your windows are broken as the family opens them and sneaks inside. Your living room and kitchen are littered with boxes but that’s it. They each take a look around to find you but come out empty-handed. If you were here, they may do exactly what Alfred discouraged and just take you home. However, because you aren’t home, the only other place you could be is outside. Where it’s dark out and you’re alone.

Worried for your safety, the family immediately goes on another search for your

Because you could be anywhere, the family decides to split up to find you

You look around as you walk back to your apartment, a few small bags of food and snacks in your hands. Because it’s getting dark, you do begin to pick up the pace. You’re so focused on not getting home that you don’t notice when a person peeks over at you from a rooftop.

You’re just about to pass a convenience store when someone runs out and knocks into you. The person curses as they quickly get up and reach for their bag of stolen goods. Filled with adrenaline, the thief takes out a knife and stabs you. They were aiming to kill you so there weren’t any witnesses but ended up putting the knife in your shoulder. As the thief makes a run for it, a certain vigilante quickly blocks their path

Nightwing goes full force on the thief. How dare they hurt his baby bird. He refuses to make the same mistake of leaving you alone and hurt.

Your heart is racing as you attempt to pull the knife out of your shoulder. Your eyelids feel weak but you refuse to fall asleep. Unlike before, you aren’t restrained and can still escape.

You pull the knife out and let it fall on the ground next to you. After a few breaths, you do your best to stand up. You take a small glance at Nightwing before quickly running back to your apartment. 

Once inside, you almost collapse on the floor but try to get your first aid kit.

Your bandaging may not be that good but the best but it’s enough for you to feel comfortable sleeping for the night

Nightwing sighs as he handcuffs the thief. He went a lot harder than he expected but how can you blame him? His family was in danger and he needed to do everything to make sure it doesn’t happen again

The vigilante turns to where you were but only finds a bloodied knife and the bags you left behind. He carefully picks up the bags and knife while he considers where you have gone.

Spotting a trail of blood, Nightwing quickly follows it, contacting the rest of the family as well

The family gathers at the same spot near your apartment and finds you sleeping in your bed. Wanting to help you, Nightwing comes up with an idea

You lay on your bed, waiting for sleep to consume you when a knock comes from your door. You try to ignore it but the knocking continues. The only thing that gets you up is the realization that the knocking is too loud to be from your door. Opening your eyes, you realize that someone is at your window. 

Getting up, you pick up your pepper spray as you slowly walk towards the window. You have your curtains closed so you try to peek past them to see who is there

Who you see is Nightwing and it gets you worried. Does he think you were involved with that other person? He must have seen that the thief stabbed you at least

Not wanting to make the vigilant wait, you open your window slightly. Only enough so you can hear what Nightwing has to say

Nightwing happily greets you and shows you the bag of items that you left behind when leaving the scene.

Surprised, you thank Nightwing and open the window. Making sure to not open the window more than necessary, just enough to collect the bags

Just as you reach for it, the vigilante points out your bandaged shoulder. He goes on to say the importance of properly handling injuries and offers to rebandage your arm.

It takes you a couple of moments before you agree to his help.

Like a big brother, he sits you down and redoes the bandages. Honestly, it makes you wish your actual big brothers would care for you in this way. Even though one of them is right in front of you

Once your shoulder has properly been bandaged, you thank Nightwing for his help. He offers to stay the night but you tell him that you’d be fine. Plus, doesn’t he still have to take care of Bludhaven

You make sure to close and lock your window once Nightwing leaves before going back to bed.  As sleep consumes you, your whole family watches from a distance. You didn’t seem to recognize Dick as Nightwing so it may be possible to get you to trust them before taking you home

[kbwrites]

Husband! Nanami

synopsis: your husband comes home for another long and arduous day. He only wishes to stay with you forever.

⚝tags: husband!nanami, reader is a housewife, nsfw, nanami loves eating his wife out

⚝wc: 1.6k

Husband Nanami! Drags his feet, trudging wearily to the entrance of his shared home. Each step heavier than the last. Work has been increasingly stressful, each day more demanding than the last. Today was no different. He brings a tired hand up to the doorknob, turning it slowly. The soft yellow light of the foyer illuminates his face, the scent of his safe space hitting his nostrils.

“Kento?” There it was, the most melodious symphony he’d ever heard. Rounding the corner it was you, his loving wife. In that moment it seems as though all the stress from the day melts away, a small smile graces his lips and his tired eyes close briefly.

“Hello dear.”

Kento wasn’t exactly sure when he fell in love with you, just that at some point he stopped being able to imagine what life would be like without your presence. You became his peace, a ray of sunshine that cut through the darkness in his life. He never believed in karma or fate, but sometimes he’d wonder what he had done in his life to be deserving of your love.

He slips out of his shoes, heavy footsteps and drooping shoulders trudge toward you. He wrapped his strong arms around you, enveloping you in a warm embrace. Kento bends down slightly, burying his head into your hair allowing your scent to permeate his senses. You always smelled so good… A low hum of content emanates from his throat, almost like a cat purring. His arms tighten around you, pulling you impossibly close.

“How was your day?” He mumbles into your skin.

“My day was good.” You reply quietly. “What about you?”

“Long. Tiring..” He says with a sigh, pulling away slightly so he can have a better look at his sunshine. His hand reaches to cup your face, thumb making small circles on your cheek. You look at your husband, honey-colored eyes half-lidded, dark circles occupying his face. It was taking everything in him to stand right now.

“Are you hungry?” You muse, nuzzling your face into his hand. He only nods, still looking at you with tired eyes. Taking the hand that held your face you lead him to the dining room. The smell of food wafts through the room, a plate of steak and mashed potatoes, still hot. He takes a seat at the table, eyes lighting up at the dish.

“Thank you, my love.” He says before taking a bite, his eyes closing in satisfaction as the savory taste hits his tongue. He loved your cooking, it was like a balm to his weary soul. He continues eating in silence, looking up at you. You rest your chin in your hands, smiling at your husband.

“You’re not eating?” He says after swallowing.

“I ate before you came home.” A pang of guilt washes over him, Kento knows you probably waited as long as you could hoping you could hold out and wait to eat with him. With all the long hours he’s been putting in, he's barely had time for the one thing that made his life worth living

“I’m sorry…” He reaches for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. You just smile, how did he end up with an angel?

He finishes eating his food, you get up grabbing the empty plate. Kento gently grabs hold of your wrist.

“Please, you cooked let me-”

“You can barely stand Ken.” You’re right, he’s come to find out that you usually are. He sinks back in the chair, too exhausted to protest. After loading the dishwasher you come back into the dining room, your husband exactly where you left him. Fighting off sleep in the chair.

You take his large hand in your smaller one, leading him to the bathroom. Although, Nanami is a serious man, one who was insistent on retiring you when you got married. He secretly loved when you took care of him, your gentle hands working his sore muscles combined with the hot water cascading down his body; he thinks in this moment he could fall asleep standing up.

He looks down at his wife fussing over him, your naked form, suds of soap covering your glistening skin. Even running on 3 hours of sleep the desire in him for his lover burns. His hands roam over your curves, gripping your hips. You pause your movements looking up at him as he pulls you closer, pads of his fingers digging lightly into the fat of your hips. How long had it been since he touched his wife? Made her writhe under him? Far too long in his opinion.

You finish the shower, leading his towel-clad body to your bedroom, drying him off you grab his night clothes from the top drawer. Suddenly bashful at all the attention you’ve been giving him Kento grabs your arm as you try to slip on his pajama pants. You look up at him inquisitively.

“Kento?” He doesn’t answer, just pulls you onto his lap. His large hands holding you in place.

“Darling..” His voice hoarse. Your body shivers in response, even after a year of marriage the sight before you— his chiseled abs, damp blond hair framing his sharp features, his lips parted and pupils blown… It was still too much. You feel the arousal pool between your legs.

“K-kento, you’re tired...” You try to be the voice of reason, but the love of your life looks so damn good right now. He places soft kisses on your chest, setting fire to your skin.

“You’ve been so good to me, allow me this.” He says before trailing kisses up and down your neck. His hands leave your waist, his touch slow and deliberate. His lips ghost over you, landing next to your ear.

“It’s been terrible my love… working all day when I’d rather be here… having you.” His breath against your ear.

“Ken!” You say embarrassed, he was always so blunt when you were having sex. “Just don’t go overboard…” You chide in between moans, your hands find his damp hair, raking through it gently. 

He uses the bit of strength he has left to lay you down on the bed, your back hitting the plush comforter. His hand trailing between your legs, he groans as he feels the wetness between your folds. Your back arches as he brings his digits up to your clit, making slow deliberate circles.

He looks up at you, eyes clouded with lust.

“Honey, I need you.” Is all he says before he buries his face into your cunt.

His tongue darting out to lap up all of your slick. Your darling husband sucking gently on your clit as his fingers tease your entrance. Your moans and whimpers only serve to encourage him. His long finger slides in, curling it upwards to your sweet spot.

“Kento~ s’good” You breathe, one hand snakes up to your stomach, giving the soft flesh a squeeze. His way of saying he heard you. His eyes flutter shut, completely enraptured in pleasing his precious wife. All the paperwork, unnecessarily long meeting with his boss, the entire shit storm of the day all seems to float away as he rests between your thighs.

“So good f’me my love.” He mumbles against your skin. The hand he had on your stomach reaches below to his growing erection. He wraps his hand around his thick length, rutting into his tight fist. He moans against your cunt, imagining his fist were your heavenly walls.

He knows you so well, just by the slight change in your voice he can tell he’s bringing you closer to the edge. His pace quickens, inserting another thick finger into your cunt, your walls flutter around him. Hot squelching noises emanate from your core. He released your clit with a ‘pop’ using the wet muscle to circle around the bundle of nerves. He wants so badly for you to cum, his own pleasure completely reliant on it. Your breath hitches, body spasms as you finally release. Your arousal coating his fingers, he removes them from you replacing them with his mouth. 

He greedily slurps up all the slick from your entrance, humming as your sweet essence coats his taste buds. 

“Kentooo” You whine, slightly overstimulated. You squirm trying to push your lover's head away from your throbbing cunt, he only grunts, strong arms holding your legs in place. Only after he’s had his fill he crawls up to you, resting your head on his broad chest. 

Your husband places kisses on your forehead, stroking your slightly damp hair. He takes deep breaths, helping to pace your own breathing. He looks down at his world, even your blissed out state was irresistible to him. 

“Was that too much for you my love?” He questions softly. You shake your head, a tired smile graces his lips.

“I’ve been neglecting you honey… I’m sorry.” He says apologetically, tracing patterns on your skin. You look up at him, the guilt evident on his face. 

He worked so hard so that you wouldn’t have to, his darling wife shouldn’t have to lift a finger. However he couldn’t bear the thought of you waiting up for him, missing him. The light of his life, so lonely in the big house he bought for her.

“It’s alright Ken.” You offer a gentle smile, of course, you missed your husband, but you didn’t want to stress him out any more than he already was. 

“No. It isn’t.” He said firmly. “I’ll request more days off, I need rest. And I need you.” He holds you tight as if you’d disappear at any moment. His mind was set, you swoon at your husbands' words.

“Good.” You say smiling, he leans down to place a gentle kiss to your lips. He rolls over to his back, the exhaustion hitting him again. You throw the cover onto both of your bodies. Sleeping taking over him quickly. You place a kiss to your husband's cheek before closing your eyes.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬✧ ▬▭▬✧✧✧

[onlyhyunjin]

𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒!

(♡) - my personal favorites (🔞) - CONTAINS NSFW CONTENT

NEW BEGINNINGS - @ikeuverse (flirting with your brother's brother-in-law wasn't in your plans after returning from studying abroad. it wasn't something you were going to stop either since heeseung was the epitome of beauty. but when there's another woman's name in the story. what happens? you don't want to be caught between a betrayal… or so you thought.) (♡)

MARRY ME - @ikeuverse (ever since you met lee heeseung, he told you that the two of you were going to get married. all the time, at every opportunity, he reinforced it until one day, drunk, you accepted. was he dreaming or did it really happen? it wouldn't be so bad to fall for his jokes for once.)

TIDES OF REGRET - @pprodsuga (in the year since heeseung first rejected your love confession, you've tried everything to get over him. a trip to europe makes you realize you miss your former best friend more than anything, and it makes heeseung realize he's got it all wrong.) (♡)(🔞)

HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER - @i2sunric (your daughter asks heeseung to tell the greatest love story of all and he takes the chance to narrate how he met you, the love of his life.) (♡)

JUNE BLOSSOMS - @soobnny (synopsis. as the month of may ends, you wonder what june holds for you and heeseung (especially with no more need to fake date.)

LATE SUMMER LOVIN' - @4am-enha (you desperately want to spend your last summer here in town with your friends, only to find out almost all of them are away on vacation. that is, all of them but heeseung. the one friend you’d never really been that close with.)

BITE ME - @drunkhazed (“I’m kind of confused still.” You admit, anxiously shuffling to sit without making eye-contact. Heeseung chuckles plopping down by your side, arm slinging back over your shoulder to keep you pressed against him.)(🔞)

COFFEE & CREAM - @ham-st4r (one chilly night after a long work shift, you’re unfortunately forced to walk home. Cause you left your bag at work, half way through your journey you stumble across a homeless man who you naturally offer money to, and he though he refuses. You give it to him anyway, and down the road, you’ll find that those two dollars changed not only his life but yours as well.) (🔞)

IT'S CUPID, STUPID - @mygnolia (To hell with Lee Heeseung, you couldn't find someone you hated more than the boy who's by your side no matter what. You figured that maybe the summer before university would be the best way to finally let go of him, and to leave the hate you have in your childhood- but no. What do you mean you have to spend ALL summer with him?)

FUCK BUDDIES - @dimepdf (y/n and heeseung and fwb after heeseung win in his football match y/n gives him the best reward)

TEETH - @gyuuberryy (you were not thrilled about the move in of your new neighbour. mostly because he was so strange and seemed to be hiding something dark. and partly because you couldn’t stop yourself from getting closer to him because of your unwanted attraction. you were determined to expose his dark secret and get rid of him once and for all. but, it was proving to be a difficult task because he was just so irresistible..and needy.)

PLAYER RANK: PLATINUM - @simpjaes (You’re not sure what’s worse, your sister’s boyfriend or your sister’s boyfriend’s friends. What you thought would be a great deal in living with her throughout college turns into a major game of cat and mouse, where you’re unsure if your moral compass is pointing in the right direction solely because you suspect someone is wearing a giant sex magnet to throw it off.) (🔞)

RUDE - @4wkjun (heeseung has never loved anyone as much as he loves y/n. y/n’s father has never hated someone as much as he hates heeseung. but it doesn’t matter, heeseung’s gonna marry y/n anyway.)

I OFFER YOU MY EVERYTHING - @heegyukeluv (You never cared about sex, until you did. You grew too afraid of it, scared of disappointing the other person or showing your inexperience. But then you met Heeseung, the hot basketball captain that stole your heart and became your biggest fantasy. ) (🔞)

VERBOTEN - @heesbaby (a bad stroke of luck saw lee heeseung, your dads coworker, moving into your small apartment until he found his feet again. emotionally unavailable and a workaholic, you were going to try your absolute hardest to make him loosen up. even if it meant breaking a few of the house rules he'd set out.) (🔞) (♡)

10 DAYS TO FALL IN LOVE - @luvyeni (you and heeseung used to be bestfriends as children — he even told you he'd marry you one day. but then you went to highschool and things changed , he dyed his hair and started hanging out with a new group group of friends. through all that his love never changed for you — has yours changed for him?)

RENT A BOYFRIEND - @jayujus (in which jeon y/n is desperate to find a boyfriend ASAP because she needs a date for her family's mixer. her best friend, ningning, introduces her to a website perfect for this situation!)

CHERRY CHAPSTICK - @angelwonie (ever since you met lee heeseung, he told you that the two of you were going to get married. all the time, at every opportunity, he reinforced it until one day, drunk, you accepted. was he dreaming or did it really happen? it wouldn't be so bad to fall for his jokes for once.)

[sanarsi]

But daddy, I love him!

older boyfriend!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: Your controversial old boyfriend is back from his deployment. Your father is against your relationship. Or Joel fucks you on his motorcycle. Warnings: +18, MDNI, angst, arguing, age gap (reader is 20, Joel is 40), ex-soldier!boyfriend!Joel, rough sex, unprotected PIV, pussy eating, dirty talk, dom!Joel, motorcycle sex, daddy kink, pet names (daddy, sir, baby girl, good girl), hair pulling, no-outbreak AU and no-Sarah Wordcount: 4,5k An: My boyfriend’s back, and he’s cooler than ever. This text inspired me to write this wonder. Hope you enjoyed bestiesss <3 Music I worked with: Lust For Life - Lana Del Rey, The Weeknd

Masterlist

One message made your heart fill with warmth and your lips formed the most sincere smile in months.

Joel: I'm back.

The same message also caused hell in your house.

Screams echoed throughout the house for almost an hour. Your throat and eyes hurt.

Another dose of hot tears ran down your cheeks as you tried to convince your father to let you meet with Joel.

With your controversial old boyfriend who you met right after your eighteenth birthday. And the whole world could be against your love but you didn't care. After all, it was with him that you experienced the most beautiful things in your life.

He was the one who treated you like his princess the moment your father stopped.

"I forbid you!" Another scream from your father echoed through the kitchen.

Your mother was sitting at the kitchen island drinking soothing herbs. She hadn't said a word for several minutes. Just stared blankly into space.

She wasn't defending you.

She was on her husband's side.

Not on her own daughter's.

"I'm not sixteen anymore so you can forbid me from doing something!"

"You're my daughter! I have the right to forbid you from making the biggest mistake of your life!"

And that's how this conversation looked from the moment it started. From the moment your father accidentally saw a message on your phone.

If it weren't for your inattention, you would be sitting in your room now, waiting for another message. Happy that you're about to see your beloved after a few months of separation. Without letting your parents know where you're going, who you're with, and when you're coming back.

"He's not a mistake!" you screamed, more tears streaming down your neck. Your preparation for the meeting went to hell. You looked like seven disasters. Mascara smudged under your eyes, irritated eyes, tears that had washed off your makeup.

Everything was wrong.

Father snorted dryly at your words, sending you an amused look. It hurt.

"Child, this man is using you. He's manipulating you because you're young and stupid," he growled in disgust.

You blinked a few times, not knowing if it was your heart that broke or the cup your mother had dropped. You stared at the man who raised you and was once the most important person in the world to you.

It was amazing how time can change everything.

"Is that what you think of me?" you asked, smiling sadly. "That I am stupid because I fell in love with someone who treats me like an equal? ​​Shows me respect and understanding?" you said, your voice breaking more and more.

"Oh, please," he snorted, rolling his eyes. "Do you really believe that a guy my age can love you and not just want you in his bed?" There was simply hatred in his gaze. There was no compassion or understanding. In his eyes, you were a stupid and disobedient girl.

You snorted sadly, shrugging your shoulders.

"I don't know, you used to," you replied with venom.

The kitchen fell silent. Your mother was afraid to even look up at you. And your father seemed to be on the verge of madness. He was breathing heavily, looking at you with something dark in his eyes.

You felt the vibration of your phone in your pocket and your heart immediately beat faster.

He had arrived.

"Get out of my sight," he growled, pointing his finger towards the stairs leading to your bedroom.

It was a pity that you didn't intend to go back there. Not after the hatred with which your own family treated you. If they could, they would have disowned you and everything you represented.

But looking at your parents, who were together out of habit and not love, you were glad that you were different than they wanted you to be. You weren't the one who was unhappy. You weren't the one who cheated on your partner at the first opportunity. You weren't the one who fell asleep after an argument about who was the worse person.

You loved and were loved.

"With pleasure," you said angrily and left the kitchen.

But instead of going to your room, you went to the hall to put on your shoes and take your backpack. It was amazing that you had packed everything you needed in it.

All your belongings.

"Where are you going?" he shouted, following you.

"I'm getting out of your sight. Just like you wanted," you said indifferently and with one movement you opened the door. You didn't pay attention to how hard the wooden board hit the wall when you went outside.

Your gaze immediately fell on the end of the sidewalk to the man sitting on the motorcycle.

Time stopped for a moment.

There was only him, smoking a cigarette in peace. A gentle wind blew his flannel shirt, jeans hugged his legs and gel held his slowly graying hair perfectly.

He looked even better than you remembered.

Broad shoulders and muscles tensed under the dark green material. The same wrinkle between his eyebrows and that tired look that immediately lit up at the sight of you.

Your father's screams didn't reach your ears.

There was only the strong beating of your heart and that smirk you missed. You felt butterflies in your stomach as you watched him throw the cigarette butt on the ground and reach behind him for helmet.

The helmet he bought specially for you.

"You're not going anywhere with that man," your father growled, tugging on your elbow to get your attention.

That was enough for the endless moment to end.

You looked at him over your shoulder with a hateful look and yanked your hand out of his grip.

"Try to stop me," you said defiantly.

Your father knew who Joel was. And he might have doubted your love, but he couldn't doubt that Joel was capable of protecting you.

That's why when you saw a spark of hesitation in his eyes, you immediately took the opportunity and ran towards the motorcycle.

"Get back here!" he shouted, running after you. Joel started the motorcycle as if on cue. You grabbed the helmet he held out to you and quickly sat down behind him. Your fingers trembled as you try to buckled it.

"I wouldn't come any closer if I were you."

You shivered when you heard the voice you missed so much. You looked up at Joel who was just sending a warning look to your father. The tension between them sent shivers down your spine.

"You're disgusting," he hissed.

Joel snorted under his breath and smiled widely. With superiority.

"Nah, your daughter thinks I'm pretty good," he teased. Your breathing quickened when you finally managed to get the clasp off and you hugged him tightly around the waist. "See ya," he winked, amused at the state he left your father in.

Anger seethed in him and if he could, he would have started to boil. But you couldn't see it anymore because Joel, with a roar of his motor, drove away from your house. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you could barely catch your breath, let alone know what was going on around you. Your arms tightened around him as you pressed your cheek against his back.

Feeling him again after so many months was a completely different experience. It was better than getting high after rehab.

His scent was intoxicating. He smelled like a man you would trust with your life. His muscles felt like a place you never wanted to leave again.

He was like home.

"Hi, baby," he said tenderly, placing his hand on your thigh. You felt shivers when he started stroking your leg in that caring way. He laughed quietly feeling your body tremble.

Everything around you became quieter.

"I missed you."

"Yeah?" he asked teasingly.

"Mhm," you nodded hugging him tighter to which he tightened his hand on your thigh.

"I missed you too."

You smiled at his words which made warmth spread through you.

He missed you.

And suddenly everything in your head calmed down.

All unwanted thoughts and worries disappeared.

There was only the sound of the motorcycle, the wind whistling over your skin, his body against yours and the view of green fields.

You felt good again.

Safe.

"Do you have everything with you?" he asked, calmly leading the way. You nodded. "Just your backpack?"

"Yeah," you replied, swallowing hard. The change in tone didn't escape his notice. He removed his hand from your thigh and slowly ran it over your hand on his stomach.

"That's good. I have more room to maneuver with the gifts," he said with a smile, then took your hand and pulled it to his mouth, placing a gentle kiss on it. You shivered at the feeling of his lips and beard on your skin.

You didn't even realize how much you missed it. His words, as always, brought you comfort.

He always took care of you.

From the moment he decided to save you from the aggressive guy at the club. From the moment his worried eyes met your terrified gaze.

From the moment he offered to walk you home after that, you always felt safe with him.

It took so little to fall in love with him.

His gentle smile, warm gaze, and careful touch were enough.

"Want to show you somethin’, sweet girl."

Then there was only a loud growl, acceleration and a tighter grip on his body. The landscape slowly passed before your eyes as you drove fast through almost empty roads.

A feeling straight out of a movie.

That's how you felt all the time when he was around.

His gaze was always on you, making you hot and butterflies in your stomach. With him, you were the main character. Always. Even when you argued, all he wanted was for you to stop looking at him with pain in your eyes.

He treated you like his princess.

Only to treat you like a whore at night.

And he was the best at it.

Motor began to slow down so you lifted your cheek from his back to look around. You were on top of some mountain. The view of the forests and the city stretched in the distance. You had never been here before. You didn't even know this place existed even though you had lived here your whole life.

Joel stopped, turning off the engine and patted your thigh. You knew what to do so you deftly jumped off the seat.

There was silence all around, interrupted by the singing of birds. It was peaceful. Perfect.

You took off your helmet and hung it on the handlebars. A strong arm immediately wrapped around your hips, pulling you closer. You bumped into Joel's hard chest and gave him an innocent look that immediately made him start to harden in his jeans.

His gaze began to carefully examine every inch of your face, as if he was seeing you up close for the first time. But you hadn't changed even a little. The same shiny eyes, firm skin and delicious lips.

His fingers ran down your neck, sending shivers down your spine. A smirk bloomed on his lips as he felt you still react so intensely to his proximity.

You were so damn soft under his rough touch.

"Will you smile for me?" he asked, grabbing your chin. As if on cue, you couldn't help but smile. "That's my girl," he praised, returning your smile. "That's what I missed the most." His thumb slowly ran over your skin until it caught your lower lip. "And that," he added and without waiting, he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours. You closed your eyes immediately, melting in his arms.

The longed-for and deep kiss he gave you, easily made your knees tremble. You slowly embraced his neck, pulling him even closer, thirsty for his closeness.

His attention.

His tenderness.

A quiet sigh escaped your lips into his when he tightened his hand on your hip. His touch was domineering and his lips dominant. His desire for you didn't decrease even a little, it actually increased.

You felt a slap on your butt and his fingers digging hard into your skin. You moaned, thirsty for more.

More of his hands on your body.

More kisses on your warm skin.

More of him.

“I missed those sweet sounds of yours,” he whispered against your lips as he slowly pulled away with a blissful smile. You caught your breath licking your swollen lips, and your eyes began to sparkle again as you looked at him.

Unlike you, he had changed.

He had more wrinkles around his eyes. His hair was starting to lose its shine and his beard was turning grey.

He was aging before your eyes.

“You were supposed to go to war, not to a beauty salon,” you said biting your lip to hide your growing smile.

He snorted, looking away for a moment in amusement. This sound was enough to make your stomach clench pleasantly. His smile was the most beautiful sight you could have after so many months of emptiness.

“Are you teasing your old man? Naughty,” he smacked his lips disapprovingly and squeezed your butt harder before he let go of you.

You took a step back, letting him get off the bike. He straightened with a soft groan as his spine cracked.

“I guess it’s been a while since anyone gave you a massage,” you said teasingly as he slowly walked up to you and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Unfortunately, where I was, there weren’t any masseuses as pretty as you,” he teased, wrinkling his nose as he leaned down to place a soft kiss on your lips.

A few soft kisses.

You giggled as he started kissing your cheek and neck, teasing you with his stubble.

“I have something for you,” he whispered, straightening up and reaching under the collar of his shirt.

A soft jingle caught your attention.

The sun reflected off the silver dog tag that hung between you.

“This was my last mission,” he announced, placing the necklace around your neck this time. “I’m yours now.”

Those words hit you like a bucket of cold water. You blinked a few times, looking at the dog tag. The embossed letters with his data gleamed in the sunlight like a promise. Such a little piece of metal that meant so much. So much to him and now, so much to you.

He belonged to you now.

Your heart almost fell out of your chest when he grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him again.

“Now I can take care of you properly.”

The gentleness and certainty with which he said it made you dizzy. And suddenly all those months of waiting turned out to be worth every minute.

Just so he can come back to you, giving yourself on an open hand.

“Will you accept me?”

Willyouacceptmewillyouacceptmewillyouacceptme.

It's the same as 'will you marry me'.

You stared at him expectantly, slowly starting to lose your breath. Did he really- No, he can’t. Or can he?

Joel saw the confusion in your eyes. You were only twenty, you had barely started living an adult life, and he was offering you something that was an obligation until the very end.

And maybe he was old, he didn't have as much strength and will to live as he once did, but he wanted you.

He wanted to take care of you.

He wanted you to be able to rely on him in everything.

So that you wouldn't be afraid to ask him to buy an extra pack of jelly beans or to kill a man for you.

He wanted to help you get through life, protecting you from anything that could hurt you.

“Say yes, my love,” he whispered, stroking your cheek.

Your silence began to drag on. But you didn’t think about the answer. You tried to understand what happiness had just reached you.

“Say yes and I will never let you worry about anything again.”

He needed to hear your consent even though he saw the answer on your face. That's why he wasn't afraid to wait when you were silent for a long time.

He leaned down and gently brushed his nose against yours. His hot breath mixed with yours and even such a small thing made you shiver.

"Say yes and be mine," he whispered, tilting his head so he could run his lips over yours.

Gently like the beating of a butterfly's wings.

Your eyelids began to droop from the feeling of warmth he began to surround you with.

"Y-"

And that was enough for his hand to tangle in your hair, holding you tightly as he pressed his lips painfully against yours.

You moaned, wincing as your teeth clashed and his tongue immediately entered your mouth. Only now could you feel the desire from longing for you.

He kissed hard but slowly, passionately.

He kissed so that you felt a tingling between your thighs.

The tingling quickly turned to excitement as he pulled closer your hips until you could feel his hard cock. You sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck as he gently rubbed himself against you with a soft groan.

After that, everything happened quickly. You had no idea how you ended up on the seat of a motorcycle, without any shorts or panties, while making out with him. But you don’t mind. As long as his hands gripped your body like that, you didn't care about anything.

He growled softly, his fingers gripping your thighs tighter. His thumbs were close to your little slice of heaven, sensually massaging your skin.

And you might have been wet before, but now you were leaking onto the seat.

Joel didn't care that he made a mess. He didn't care about the teeth marks he left on your skin as he went lower and lower. He didn't care about how his cock painfully dug into his jeans, wanting to get out.

He cared about how hard your nipples were standing before he even ran his warm tongue over them.

The animalistic groan that escaped your throat made his balls ache.

"Fuck baby, I haven't even started with you yet and my cock is about to fall off," he mumbled without stopping sucking on your nipple.

Another wave of arousal hit your clit, allowing more juices to flow out of your hole and between your ass cheeks. His teeth began to tease your already oversensitive nipple, making you whimper.

"Joel, please."

He loved hearing your pleas. How beautifully his name sounded on your lips when you were possessed by pleasure. And Joel never refused you. So after a moment he was kneeling in front of you, gripping your thighs, forcing you to spread your legs even wider for him.

“Oh, fuck me,” he groaned at the sight of your cunt. Wet, leaking and throbbing, just for him. “Daddy’s home.”

And he dove in, collecting with his tongue everything that leaked out of your hole with gusto. You moaned loudly watching as he greeted your pussy. Groans of pleasure left his throat every time another dose of your arousal appeared on his tongue.

Like a thirsty man, he dove his tongue into you and your loud moans mingled into one. All your blood began to flow to that one small point, which after a moment was between his lips.

He sucked on your clit with a purr and allowed himself to give it a moment of attention. He made slow circles with his tongue and your legs began to tremble.

"I'm gonna come," you warned him, panting heavily. He glanced up at you, not taking his mouth off you, and you could have sworn that this view should be immortalized in a museum. You could watch for hours as he knelt thirsty in front of you to eat you.

The grimace of pleasure on your face only made his balls boil. He ran his tongue along the length of your slit and sucked on your clit again. You whimpered as you felt your orgasm approaching.

You didn't even have to try, because a wave of pleasure hit you a moment later when he bit down on your nerve nub. Fucking nirvana you could feel again after a few months of separation.

You shuddered, pushing your hips into him as he rode you through your orgasm for as long as he could.

And only when he cleaned everything that had flowed out of you, he let you breathe. He stood up with a quiet groan and immediately reached for his belt.

"My balls are about to fall off because of you, princess," he joked with a quiet snort. You breathed heavily as you watched him unzip his fly and reach under his underwear.

With a sigh of relief, he pulled out his painfully hard cock, which quivered at the contact with the outside world. You swallowed hard as you saw another drop of precum flowing from his head. He pumped it slowly a few times and approached you, positioning himself perfectly between your legs.

He held his cock firmly at the base and with a hiss of satisfaction he slammed it perfectly into your clit a few times. You whimpered, clenching around nothing.

"Yeah, just like that."

He guided the tip down and ran it between your wet slit. His head was soft and warm so your body didn't resist as he slowly pushed a few inches into you. You began to breathe harder, watching as he slowly disappeared deeper and deeper into your pussy.

Joel moaned in satisfaction, feeling your hole accept him perfectly smoothly. As if she was just waiting for his cock to fill her up again.

“Oh god,” you gasped, already feeling full but you could see he had to go in a few more inches. You clenched on him in warning and he grabbed your hips tightly to hold you in place as he slowly pushed deeper into you.

“Good girls take everything their daddies give them,” he gasped, watching you helplessly look at the spot where you were connecting. “You’re a good girl, right?”

You squealed, pressing your lips together tightly and nodding your head eagerly. His cock made you not know if it was better to breathe or not. Joel smiled, pleased with your reaction and with one hard movement, he pushed himself all the way into you. You moaned like a wounded animal as your eyes rolled back and your head fell back.

“Fuck yeah,” he groaned in pleasure, feeling your pussy clench around him in welcome.

And then it started.

His hips slowly pulled back only to thrust hard into you. Joel was never gentle with sex. And you never thought you'd like it. But you did.

His fingers dug hard into your flesh as his hips began to painfully slam against yours. You were barely able to stay in your seat. The loud moans had already scared away the birds and his growls had scared away all other animals. He was pounding his rock hard cock into you, causing more and more juices to spill from your hole.

The wet sound echoed around every time he thrust into you. And he didn't care that you couldn't catch your breath. He didn't care that you had nothing left to scream for. You just existed. Taking everything he gave you. Like a regular fuck doll.

"Fuckin’ take it," he growled.

You slowly started to choke but that only intensified the pleasure that accompanied his cock as he drove it into you all the way. He watched you struggle with the overwhelming feeling of bliss that he gave you. He loved seeing you like this.

His cock literally took your breath away.

But then his thumb appeared on your clit and you automatically gasped for air. You tensed up, moaning throatily until your knees trembled under him. Your pussy immediately became tighter, making his balls shiver.

His thumb made quick circles around your clit and you couldn't fight the feeling that appeared in your legs. You were helpless.

"Yesyesyesyesyesyes," you started to repeat on the edge of your endurance. Your body was fighting the approaching orgasm, making the blood start to boil throughout your body.

His finger disappeared and in return, you felt his hand grab your hair tightly. You weren't even able to hiss in pain when he pulled you to him. You looked at animal instinct in his eyes, feeling how he intensified his thrusts.

"Father didn't want you?" he asked, panting heavily. You clenched your jaw tighter as he jerked you harder. A devilish smile appeared on his lips. "Don't worry, baby. Now I will take care of you."

"Yes," you hissed, fighting the feeling that was slowly overpowering you.

"Yes what?" he growled, tugging harder at your hair. He leaned down, running his tongue over your neck to finally plant a gentle kiss.

“Yes, sir,” you repeated. He smiled against your skin

“Good girl,” he praised you, pleased and bit into the spot right after your ear. And then you were gone.

You moaned like a real slut, coming on his cock. Your legs began to tremble as he continued to fuck you mercilessly.

A wave of orgasm flooded your body, cutting off your access to oxygen, and another wave, flooded his cock. Your juices began to drip down his balls as with a groan, he continued to suck on your skin, marking you.

Moans, sighs and squeals mixed into one as your pussy pulsed around him. And that brought him to the end. He bit painfully into your neck and holding you tightly, thrust into you several times. Hard and deep, filling you with all of his seed.

His throaty groan sent vibrations through your body as he finally stopped. You panted heavily, still pulsating until his cum started to flow out of you too.

"Fuck, I missed you," he groaned pulling away from you so he could look at your face. Tiredness mixed with bliss. But it was your sparkling eyes that said it all.

You smiled lazily as he rested his wet forehead against yours, allowing both of you to calm your racing hearts.

"I would possess you in every way possible and I would never get enough of that sweet pussy of yours."

You snorted helplessly at which a smile blossomed on his lips. And then he just kissed you. Tenderly and slowly. Finally able to enjoy your closeness

[minhosimthings]

Lucifer|| Prolouge

Synopsis: After you found your husband cheating on you, you found a different kind of comfort in his devilishly handsome colleagues.

Pairings: detective 02z × fem!reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, suggestive, minors please do not interact, catcalling, mention of alcohol, reader is cheated on by Heeseung, cheating (which I do not condone in real life)

A/N: Prologue for my 02z short series everyone! I abandoned everything else after Enha dropped Memorabilia just to write this BECAUSE I CAN. I will try to put out the oneshots as early as possible and I hope all of you will enjoy it! Au revoir!

Taglist: Open

Series Masterlist

Crystalline tears filled your eyes as you walked under the dark azure sky. Your feet ached, your heart thumped hard against its prison and your mind spun and yet you kept walking. Walking somewhere, you didn't even bother to understand.

Adjusting your skirt, and moving your scarf down to reveal your bloodied lips from having bitten them too much, you tried to recall what had happened today that made you so miserable. Was it the broken coffee machine, or was it the recent murders in the newspaper? Or was it a person? Perhaps it was the latter.

Heeseung.

You loved Lee Heeseung. With all of your soul and all of your heart you loved him all the way through the bright Mays and the chilly Decembers. You loved him in a way only the setting sun could love the ocean, the way its rays danced with the water so gracefully.

And yet you caught him in your own bedroom, strong sinews of muscles handling another girl's lusty bones, as she merged her body with someone you thought belonged to you.

His apologies went deaf to your ears, you spent an hour or so packing up all your things and driving out the house without a second thought. You didn't even realise how much time you spent screaming your head off at him, trying hard to stop your tears from escaping their barrier as you shoved each and every gift he ever gave you into his arms and asked him to burn them to the ground. And yet you didn't know how to cope without them either.

Your mother never taught you how to handle grief without alcohol and your father's blood always seeped through your mouth in words of fire and fury everytime something went wrong. It was no wonder you had found comfort in Heeseung, a man who could handle all of your pain and all of your anger.

You had trusted him with your life, marrying him happily to escape your childhood home and entrusting in him your most beloved secrets, your love and dedication and your virginity as well. You thought that had been enough, staying home whilst Heeseung worked his ass off at the police station to provide you with everything you could ask for and more.

And when he came home, you were his toy, a plaything for him to release his stress on and yet you didn't budge. Why should you? When you were recieving all the pleasure you could ever want and giving all the pleasure back to your husband. Nevertheless, you stared at your empty ring finger now, hands shivering in the cold as you scolded yourself on not wearing mittens. Heeseung used to scold you too.

Lee Heeseung. What would you have done to absolutely irradicate Lee Heeseung?

You had parked your car at the nearby park where you knew it'd be safe, and had gone for a walk. Thoughts rushed to your mind. You had known about Heeseung's affair for some time now, but you wanted to catch him in the act, to prove to the world, to yourself, that your melancholic delusion could be justified. Here you were now, dragging your feet across the cemented pavement, knowing there's only one other place you could go to. The darkness was a bad place for a woman to be, at 10 pm but you didn't give a single fuck about anything as your prosaic body tried to get itself up. You swore you could have heard voices behind you.

"Hey, hey you!" You heard a voice shout behind you, "What's a pretty lady doin' in a place like this?"

You gulped in fear as your feet sped up. Stupid stupid girl, you thought to yourself, should have stayed in the goddamned car!

"Hey you ignorin' me?" The voice shouted again, and you could hear the gruff footsteps which followed you, getting closer by the moment, "Stop fucking runnin' away from me!"

Your heart pumped blood faster as you picked up your skirt and ran, at the fastest speed you could. This wouldn't have happened if Heeseung was here!, you thought, and though a part of your brain tried to scold you about still thinking about him, at the moment all you were focused on was getting somewhere safe.

The man's drunken voice could still be hear by your ears, and his harsh footsteps told you he was running behind you, chasing you as if you were a wild mongrel to be caught and leashed.

Only one place. Only one place you could go now.

Turning swift on your feet, you ran down the wide lane filled with shops on one side and the empty road on the other, being careful not to crash into the glowing streetlights, as your destination came into your visage.

The police station. Where you knew, your last hope would be standing.

|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|

"Got the Samson case solved yet?" Sunghoon yawned and stretched his limbs above his head, like a prosaic cat, "Man I could do with a drink right now."

"It's 10 pm." Jake checked his pocketwatch, running his hand through his hair as he always did, "What bar is going to be open at this time?"

"Hey, should we steal Jay's stash?" Sunghoon glanced, with mischievous eyes at Jake, who mirrored an equally mischief filled smile back.

"Don't even think about touching my bourbon." A dark haired man, with eyes as black as kohl, walked in, equally black gloves decorating his hands, "Unless you want to be stuck on traffic duty all week."

"Who pissed in your cereal today?" Sunghoon snickered, leaning back in his chair, a crack of his bone could be heard as he lazily stretched, "Let me guess, Heeseung?"

"Is it about his wife again?" Jake groaned, hair tangled in his hand again, "Jay, just leave it man, they'll sort it out."

"Sort it out?" Jay looked at the long haired man with a quizzical look, "What kind of a man cheats on a beautiful woman and brags about it?"

"Most of them." Sunghoon broke out into his drawer, hands reaching for a eloquent wooden pipe, which he lit and transferred to his mouth, sighing out the smoke as he relaxed into his chair, "You're too righteous to understand that, Jongsoeng."

Jay wrinkled his nose, as Sunghoon blew a puff of cigarette smoke into the air. Settling into his own chair, Jay's eyes flickered towards Heeseung's desk, where files lay messily scattered. A solitary photo frame brightened up the lonely atmosphere of the desk. Lee Y/N, Jay thought, his wife, not yours.

"Jay, come on, stop sulking over your little crush," Jake scoffed, his hands busy with a sleek, brownish-yellow bottle in his hand, "Just have a drink and get your mind off it."

"First of all, how did you get into my bourbon cabinet." Jay snatched the glass from Jake's hand, and toyed with it protectively, "Second of all, I can't just get my mind of it. I mean, come on," He extended his glass out to Jake who poured the elysian liquid into Jay's glass, "Who the fuck would have the gall to cheat on such a pretty woman who loves him to bits?"

"Look, you like her right? And don't say no, we all know it Jongsoeng." Sunghoon leaned forward in his chair, "So when she finds out about everything, just offer to take her home and, you know, let her sob into your arms and then take her into your bedroom and-"

"Since when did you start reading romance?" Jake chuckled, pressing a glass of bourbon to his lips.

"Since lover boy here started crushing on..what's her name? Y/N wasn't it?" Sunghoon laughed, taking another piquant drag of his pipe, "I get it, she is really pretty."

'Really pretty' was one way to describe you, Jay thought, smiling into his glass of bourbon. Every inch of you called out to him, beckoned him closer and closer to your poisonous radius. It wasn't that he didn't try to fight it, lusting after another's wife, but it was that he found that hidden sadness in your eyes heartbreaking everytime he looked into them.

"Want to head home, fellas?" Jake briskly sat up straight in his chair, "Or are either of you going to stop at a brothel?"

"Don't have time for that." Sunghoon chuckled darkly, putting out his pipe, "Plus I've got a-"

Bang!

The door of the quite airy police station burst open with a loud bang, and it seemed as if a hurricane in the guise of a panicked woman had swept in, alarming the three detectives. The sudden action caused them to act on their reflexes, pulling out their revolvers faster than their eyes could comprehend the sight in fron them. Jake's eyes seemed to work the quickest.

"Ma'am? Are you alright?" Jake called out, signalling the other two to lower their weapons. He stepped forward and turned a switch on, which caused the entire room to light up in bright light, contrasting to the soft yellow light that earlier shone from the desk lamps.

Jay's senses had seemed to ding up after the initial shock of the entire thing, as he walked forward with careful steps towards you, as Jake and Sunghoon whispered to each other, making out why you were here. Your eyes took a moment to register the man in front of you.

Jay Park, you thought, a man who was perfection incarnated.

"Y/N," Jay spoke softly, careful not to frighten you, "What are you doing here? Are you alright?" He looked you up and down to check for any disfigurements.

"I-" you spoke, your throat tightening by the moment, "Heeseung—he" you couldn't speak any more as his name uttered out your mouth. Bursting into tears, you buried your face in your hands as you felt your cheeks burn up with embarrassment. You really weren't crying in front of your (ex) husband's colleagues, men who you barely knew, apart from the usual condolences.

You felt warm, strong muscles pull you into their hold. It felt like a cozy cocoon, scented with the fragrance of pine and paper.

"Calm down, doll," Jay whispered into your ear, his hot breath fanning your neck, "take a breath for me."

Jay coached you through breathing in and out, which restored some of your consciousness. You had nearly been on the verge of fainting, with how much you had ran.

"Can I—May I sit down for a moment?" You asked, weary of the other two men's eyes watching you, "Please."

"Of course." Jay said, supporting your figure with his sinews as he led you over to his cubicle. You could see the other two hastily clearing out messy piles of papers. The shorter one, you assumed was Jake, from his drooped posture and lion-like hair. The taller one then, had to be Sunghoon, with porcelain skin and an ice cold gaze.

"Did-did you walk all the way from your house?" Jake questioned, offering you a seat, which you gratefully collapsed into.

"No, just the park nearby." You shot him a small smile through your croaky voice, which he returned, "My car's still parked there though. I drove from" you stopped in your words uncertain to say his name, "-from Heeseung's house."

You felt the tension in the room as you said those words. Heeseung's house, you thought, it had been home once. You felt Jay shift his position in the chair next to you, and Sunghoon transfer his weight to one foot, whilst leaning on the desk.

"If you want us to go beat him up, we'll gladly do it." Sunghoon offered, making you chuckle and shake your head.

"No it's fine, I mean she wasn't that pretty anyway, he's bound to lose interest in her some day or the other." You smiled, to no one but yourself. Humour had never been your strong suit.

"Aww man I really wanted to beat him up." Sunghoon feigned defeat, "Asshole deserves it for how much paperwork he gave me."

"That's the only reason you want to beat him up?" You raised a brow at the light skinned man, who raised one back.

"And for betraying a pretty lady of course." He winked at you, making you internally roll your eyes.

"Would-would you like some bourbon?" Jake awkwardly offered you a glass. You could see the embarrassment in his eyes the moment he asked the question, "Or water if you want-"

"I'll take the bourbon." You grabbed the glass from Jake, who, with his shocked eyes poured you a glass, which you downed immediately without flinching in front of the three startled detectives, "Can I have another?"

"Can we have some too?" Sunghoon smirked at you, grabbing his own glass and beckoning Jake to pour him a shot. Jay, admitting defeat, had grabbed a glass too, filled with the bubbly alcohol.

"Well," Sunghoon raised his glass in a toast, "to Heeseung hopefully getting bored of the other woman."

"Peculiar toast, Detective Park." You laughed, "I like it."

The moments that followed still felt like a fever dream to you. You had sat in a building, alone with three handsome men, talking down right shit about your husband, whilst drinking more bourbon than you ever had and although you had already defeated Jake in drinking (almost) half a pint, you still wanted more. This definetly was not on your itinerary for the evening, but did you care at this point? Absolutely not.

"Ugh fuck." You swore under your breath. You probably shouldn't have drank that much, but in all honestly, it would have helped to relieve some of the painful memories of the night.

"Woah steady there." Jay looked at you cautiously as you stirred in your chair. Jake was on the verge of passing out, having even taking his glasses off, while Sunghoon and Jay, who hadn't drank as much, looked as calm as the winds.

"You know what?" You started, not knowing the words coming out of your drunken mouth anymore, "Fuck Lee Heeseung, fuck that man." A sudden maniacal giggle from your mouth seemed to have amused Sunghoon.

"Fuck in what terms, Mrs Lee?" He asked, trying to hide his cunning smirk, whilst ignoring Jay's warning glares.

"Mrs Lee?" You questioned, feeling your senses come back, though you were still tipsy, "Who's Mrs Lee? Not me, no sir-ee." You laughed, "If I had the chance to chop off that asshole's dick right now, I would."

"But you wouldn't allow us to beat him up? Strange." Sunghoon whistled out in his usual cocky tone.

"It's getting late." Jay checked the grand clock in the corner of the room, his eyes wavered over the dried tears on your face, it was alarming to him how much a mere glass of bourbon had managed to get you giggling like a cuckoo, "Y/N I can drop you-"

"I'd rather fuck all of you in one night rather than see that idiot's face again." You chuckled again, this time, saying the sentence with full seriousness. Did you really mean it?, perhaps not, as you would have thought later on. But were you up for having sex with three extremely attractive men who happened to be the best friends of your ex-husband? That, was a definite yes.

"Oh really?" Sunghoon placed his forearms on the desk in front of him, leaning in closer to your face. Jay's hand clutched harder against the edge of the desk. "And what if I say yes to that proposal?"

"What are you implying, Detective Park?" You looked into his dark, devilish eyes, "That you'd have sex with someone pathetic enough to get cheated on?"

"Don't say that, you're not pathetic." Jay's eyes softened as he looked at you, but you merely scoffed, turning your face instead to look at Sunghoon, who was evidently smirking. You caught Jake's widened eyes from the corner of your eye, listening intently.

"How about this-" Sunghoon started, folding his arms, "You get a night of good sex, I get a night of good sex, you and I both get to rub that in Heeseung's face, and then we have breakfast in France."

"Are you married Detective Park?" You quizzed him with an amused face, his offer seemed at the very least, interesting to you.

"Not yet, no. I'm still young aren't I?", Sunghoon's mouth stretched like a cat's into a lazy smile, "Why do you ask? Are you....perhaps intrigued by my offer?"

There was something ironic about that sentence "I'm still young" that struck a chord within you, you were the same age as him and yet you were sitting there talking about your husband.

"Intrigued is one way to put it." You smiled back, hoping you looked anything like a vixen, matching the bastardous fox like energy of Sunghoon's, "But don't you think it's greedy of you, Detective Park? To want me all to yourself?"

"And what do you mean by that, Miss Y/N?" Jake smiled in his boyish manner, "Is Sunghoon here not enough for you?"

"I'm just saying." You held up your hands in mock defence, "wouldn't you both like to get a taste too?"

You glanced at Jay in the corner, who you had expected to be shaking his head in disapproval. But to your utter surprise, he had one of his gloves hands stroking his chin as if in deep thought. His eyes were dark even in the fluorescent light of the room, deep pools of cataclysmic waters floating around in his pupils. He looked vaguely interested.

"So just to recap," Jake started, clearing his throat, such that his Adam's apple was clearly visible, "You want us to bed you, so as to make your ex husband, our colleague and friend, someone's whose wife we definetly should not be sleeping with, jealous?"

"That's the blueprint." You said in a sweet honeyed voice, "How exactly you make him know that I'm not his anymore, you figure that out. If I even so as look at that man's face again, I will jump off a cliff."

"But the question is-" you put on a proud smile, eyes darting from one man to the next, "Who's going first?"

"Shouldn't you decide that sweetheart?" Jay's deep voice came like a rumble through the ground during an earthquake, slightly startling you. He hadn't said anything in the past few minutes, his sudden break of silence alarmed you.

"Alright then." You chuckled, not daring to meet Jay's eyes, you knew you'd melt as soon as you saw them, "How about the person who suggested this?" You turned your face towards a smirking Sunghoon, with his head held high like a peacock's, "Detective Park?"

"Shall I go with the lady's word boys?" Sunghoon asked Jake, who nodded his head, taking his glasses off the desk and outting them on again. The effect it had in him was quite handsome, according to you.

"Should we make a pact then?" Jake asked cheekily, glancing around for a piece of paper, finally picking one up from underneath the mountain of files lying on the wisened wood. Putting it down on the paper, he scribbled something down quickly, showing it off proudly to the others. You let out a laugh when you saw what he wrote.

"'The make Heeseung jealous organisation'?" You laughed, "I can't tell if you're serious or not."

"I'm dead serious." Jake looked at you with glossy eyes, he always was a funny one, you recalled, "Come on everyone, I need signatures."

He's serious about this, you thought, amused at Jake's comedic demeanor. You swiftly pressed the black ink to the paper, leaving off a flashy signature to decorate it. Jay signed off last, with an impeccable font.

Words couldn't have described that very evening. No sentence that could come out of your mouth could have ever even begun to explain to a complete stranger about how you had ended up in Sunghoon's car, driving to his house in silence. Shrugging off the moral doubts in the corner of your brain, you stared out the window into a dewy night.

Relax, you thought to yourself, there wasn't anything wrong with what you were doing.

Was there?

Taglist: Open! Send an ask or comment to be added.

[welty4ng]

TEAR MY WORLD APART!

call transcript; “adapting is never easy. jiaoqiu supposes he only tolerates it because you’re with him”

cw; spoilers for the current quest !!! f!reader, NSFW (mdni) !! hurt/comfort, fingering (soft sex tbh), not proofread, ugh jiaoqiu i love you so much, fic below the cut, 4.7k words

When Jiaoqiu first returns home, there’s a heavy weight in his chest.

It felt horribly uncomfortable, having Moze walk him all the way from the docks to his house. It felt even worse to have his companion fish his keys from his pockets.

In his mind’s eye, he knows where everything is. He knows where you keep your plants and how to avoid running into them; still, he tips one over, the crunch of dirt beneath his feet ringing sickeningly in his ears. He knows where every corner of his house is; yet, he hits his shoulder when he rounds a corner a little too soon.

Shamefully, it takes him longer than he’d like to find someplace to sit. He’d never thought it to be so humiliating, to realize he spent so many years seeing the layout to his own home without memorizing it.

He’s unsure for how long he sits, the silence deafening and the darkness blinding. There’s a gnawing, ever-growing pit in his stomach at the realization that this might very well be the rest of his life. A shiver runs down his spine. He doesn’t think he’ll enjoy having his senses heightened any more than they already were.

Jiaoqiu jolts when he hears the front door open, his ears perking up. The sound of your footsteps reaches his ears before you call out his name, your voice gentler than he’s ever heard it.

“Hey,” you say, hushed. Jiaoqiu shudders when your hand finds his knee, trying to soothe him. His hands ball into fists on his lap.

“Hey,” he echoes, slightly strained. The weight in his chest grows heavier when you thumb at his knee. It’s horrifying, how he can practically picture the pity on your face — he’d never thought he’d be at the receiving end of it.

“General Feixaio told me what happened,” you whisper. Jiaoqiu’s ears twitch when you cup his face and he immediately nestles into your palm. Your thumb is gentle against his skin, caressing his cheek with the utmost of care. “I’m so sorry, love.”

There’s a lump in his throat, a million words on the tip of his tongue — ‘I’m okay. I’ll be fine. It’s nothing serious. I just need to adapt.’

All that he musters is a quiet, shaky, “I want to see you.”

Jiaoqiu wonders if you look as broken as he sounds.

Being molded into a homebody is not unideal, but Jiaoqiu has far too much to do.

He wonders if that’s why Feixiao sent Moze to inform him of the leave of absence he’d been granted.

It should be welcome. It is, to an extent, when guilt doesn’t chip away at his conscience; when he doesn’t feel like he’s a burden—

The clatter of pots makes him jump, his tail puffing up before matting back down. He exhales, low and unsteady as you call out a sheepish, “Sorry.”

Jiaoqiu doesn’t think he can complain. Not when you’ve carved out time from your schedule to look after him — to help him adjust, or whatever bullshit Moze claimed Feixiao had said. So he’ll endure the ringing in his ears when something is just a little too loud, endure the tangy, bitter smell of something burning, and offer a patient smile, followed by a soft, “It’s okay.”

Because he knows you’re trying.

Cooking was never your thing. He’d never let it be, because, why would he ever let you dirty your hands when he could do it instead?

Part of himself feels guilty that you’ve been forced into a myriad of things that fell under his attention. It’s an ever-growing sense of uselessness that weighs on his chest, burrowing deeper with every ‘tap’ of the knife on the cutting board.

He presses his back against the wall, trying to suppress the familiar urge to take over the cooking for you. A knot forms in his throat when he hears you softly hiss, his eyes yearning to open and treat whatever wound you must’ve gotten.

When a soft rush of water reaches his ears, he inches off the wall just enough, taking a step toward the noise. It feels slightly disorienting, trying to guide himself simply through hearing. Still, he tries, awkwardly stumbling in your direction with an outstretched hand.

A shaky exhale leaves his lips when he touches your shoulder, his tail awkwardly flicking to the side when you jolt at the contact.

“Let me help,” he whispers, his fingers instinctively squeezing your shoulder. There’s something so horrid about being able to hear your breaths before you even speak. He loathes how clear he can hear your breath falter as you hesitate.

“Jiaoqiu, you—”

“Please.” He’s tired of feeling useless. He has enough to deal with, now that his eyesight is gone indefinitely. He wants to help — to be of use, even if it’s just a little.

The weight in his stomach sinks deeper when you gingerly clutch his wrist. For a moment, he expects you to drop his hand and lead him back to the spot on the wall he’s claimed as his own. Instead, you bring his hand up to your face, letting his knuckles brush against your skin.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” you murmur, gentle as you press a kiss to the back of his hand. Jiaoqiu wonders what expression you’re making; wonders if it’s pity or sympathy.

He takes a step closer, his front bumping against yours before his free hand shoots out to hold onto the edge of the counter for balance. “Let me do something, at least,” he pleads, a vague hint of desperation lacing his words.

Your breaths fan his face, tickling his skin in a way that has his tail swaying.

“Please,” he whispers, trying to keep his voice from wavering.

There’s a brief moment of hesitance before you ask, “What do you want to do?”

Jiaoqiu’s heart hammers in his chest, a ticklish sort of hope flooding his being. His hand trembles against your face, softly squeezing your own when you grasp it.

“Anything,” he breathes out. “It doesn’t have to be cooking or cleaning or — just let me do anything.”

When your grip on his hand falters, he grasps it tighter, resting them on your cheek. The smell of something burnt fills his senses, but he can’t find it in himself to care; not when he can feel the faint warmth of your skin. “I want to be of use to you.”

His ears twitch when you sigh, his hand trembling lightly against your face. He can imagine the expression you’re making — pursed lips and furrowed brows, deep in thought. Still, he yearns to see it.

“You can help me stir the pot,” you offer, a hint of hesitance to your voice.

The weight in his chest lightens just a little, his fingers tightening around your own in a light squeeze. “Alright.”

It’s a shred of normalcy, he supposes; even if he’s just swirling a ladle. For a moment, it reminds him of a simpler time, back when he was younger and still learning to fend for himself. The soft ‘tap’ of the knife against the cutting board fills his ears, accompanied by your faint humming.

Will you let him keep helping you? Jiaoqiu can’t help but wonder. Would you let him stop being a burden? Do you even think of him as a burden? He hopes — prays — you don’t. He hopes you let him stay by your side, even if all he can do is rot.

It’s all he wants.

So, when you lead him to your dining table, trying to distract him from the scent of burnt meat, he’ll entertain you. He’ll keep his complaints to himself, even if the soup is far too salty; the noodles are a little too undercooked; and the cubed beef is a bit too charred.

You’re both trying, he reminds himself. Perhaps that’s why he can’t find it in himself to care much when he can hear the ‘snap’ of a noodle between his molars. There’s a slight tingle in his tongue by the time he’s done eating.

Still, Jiaoqiu doesn’t complain. Instead, he smiles, softening when your hand grasps his own beneath the table, squeezing twice in a comforting gesture.

“Thank you,” he whispers, hushed. When your breath hitches, a lump forms in his chest. Quickly, he adds, “For everything.”

For a moment, he supposes the only good thing about being blind is that he doesn’t have to see you cry. Though, he supposes it’s worse, hearing you hold back from it — hearing you struggle to remain composed.

When he opens his arms, you rush into him, leaving your chair behind and opting to perch in his lap — just like you’d always done. He holds you closer, instinctively; though, he rubs at your back with hesitance, almost trying to map out the length of your back.

He shudders when you wet the side of his neck. It feels more present, now that his world is shrouded in pitch black. Your cries sound louder, even when quiet and muffled by his skin.

“I’m sorry.” Jiaoqiu’s unsure if the apology is his or yours, the weight growing tenfold in his chest and ringing in his ears.

He can’t tell if the sobs are still yours, either.

Jiaoqiu learns to rise when you do. His routine morphs into your own, despite your insistence that he rest longer.

Staying in bed doesn’t feel the same without you, he’d argued. You were quick to relent after that.

His feet drag on the floor behind yours, his grip tight around the back of your nightshirt. There’s a dull ache in his head. He bumps into you when you stop, a quick apology tumbling from his lips before he can stop it.

When the sound of rushing water reaches his ears, they twitch, recognizing the familiarity. His hands perch on the edge of the counter, letting go of your clothes. It never takes long for him to hear the soft rustle of fabric falling onto the floor. It never takes long for him to fumble with his buttons, either, before you come to his aid.

“Will you help me wash my hair again?” he asks, quiet as you ease the fabric off his shoulders.

“If you want me to,” you reply, gentle as you help him out of his pants. When your fingers brush against his lower abdomen, he shivers, his tail puffing up as he sucks in a sharp inhale.

Jiaoqiu’s hand leaves the counter, moving to cup your cheek in a practiced (albeit clumsy) movement. Part of himself still feels like a fumbling fool when you move his hand just a little lower, correcting the placement. Still, you never mention it.

A voice in the back of his head tells him he should reject your offer for help — tells him he’s been more than enough of a burden by making you spend more time ensuring he’s clean than you do yourself. Then, a gentler, kinder voice reminds him you’d expressed your satisfaction at being able to aid him. Pride never stands a chance, when it comes to your delight; he realized this soon after meeting you.

So, he lets his finger brush against the apple of your cheek, his voice softening as he says, “I do.”

It’s become almost instinctive, following you. There’s always a certain gentleness with which you hold his hands, guiding him forward as you step into the shower. He hears the quiet scuff of a stool (your insistence, not his) being dragged across the tiles. Your hands remain gentle as you guide him to sit.

“Tell me if I scrub too hard, okay?” The statement is almost unnecessary, truly. You’ve never once treated him with something other than overwhelming delicateness — like he’s made of porcelain. Jiaoqiu considered himself tough, before losing his eyesight. He thinks that shell was stripped from him alongside his vision. He wonders if you know it, too — wonders if that’s why you touch him like he’s seconds away from breaking beneath your touch.

Still, all he says is, “Okay.” Then, after a moment, “Thank you.”

A lump forms in his throat at the beat of silence, his heart hammering in his chest. Aeons, he wants to see your expression — he needs it so desperately. It’s become hard to tell whether he says the right thing or not. Sometimes, he wonders if he oversteps. There are a million words at the tip of his tongue, all of them longing to spill out.

Something soft presses against his forehead, gentle and so, so soft. Two hands cup his jaw, holding him in place before drawing him in. His arms wrap around your middle almost instinctively, his face burrowing into your chest.

“I want to see you,” he whispers, his words muffled by your skin.

Your lips press against the top of his head, tender. Jiaoqiu melts when you cup the back of his head, holding him in place. He wonders if you realize how soothing your heartbeat is to him, currently. Your fingers weave through peachy strands, washing out the shampoo suds from his hair.

“I know,” you reply, your voice barely audible. “We’ll figure it out, love.”

A soft noise rumbles in the back of his throat, his ears twitching and tickling your skin. “Promise?”

“Promise,” you whisper, kissing the top of his head one last time.

For a moment, something akin to hope blossoms in his chest. It’s the first time he’s felt it, since losing his vision, Jiaoqiu notes.

Normal still feels out of place, though not as much anymore. It’s become a faint, lingering feeling in the back of his mind.

There’s still a vague sense of discomfort at being surrounded by darkness constantly. Jiaoqiu supposes it’s only through the habit of touching that he reminds himself he’s not alone.

He’s only grateful you indulge him, even if it must be a bother to have him hovering and pestering just to stick to you.

The streets of the Yaoqing — have they ever been this noisy? Jiaoqiu can’t tell. It’s uncomfortable, how loudly everything rings in his ears. He thinks he would rather trade the boisterous noise for the bright, vivid colors he used to complain about.

“We’ll head home soon,” you reassure, squeezing his hand as tight as you can. For a moment, he wonders if his distress is palpable (he concludes that, for you, it must be).

“You shouldn’t rush,” he replies, his words trailing off into a quick apology when someone bumps into his shoulder. His hand squeezes yours — the mere thought of separating from you makes his heartbeat spike in anxiety. Jiaoqiu softly clears his throat, quickly adding, “I’m fine, really.”

Neither of you seem to believe it, though you don’t call him out on the lie. Instead, you slow your pace even more to loop your arm with his.

“I was thinking,” you start, pulling him just a little closer to you as you walk, “We could get the ingredients for those noodles you like.”

Jiaoqiu hums, trying to ignore the way the corners of his lips curl up. “That would be nice,” he says, trying to keep his steps matched to yours.

“You could help me make them,” you offer, gently tugging him closer before someone brushes against his arm.

His steps falter for a moment. When he takes a second too long to reply, you rush to add, “Only if you want to.”

A lump forms in his throat, agreement sitting on the tip of his tongue. All he does is exhale. His heart hammers in his chest, thundering loud in his ears. You’re looking at him — he doesn’t need his vision to tell. A hushed, barely audible whisper leaves his lips when you call his name.

“Is it still too soon?” you ask, a hint of worry in your voice. Your hold on him tightens just a little. “I-I figured, maybe it had been long enough to try and ease you back into things you used to do. We can just pretend I didn’t say any—”

“I want to,” Jiaoqiu says, his voice wavering. He isn’t sure when his breath picked up, but he can feel his chest heaving. His tail lightly sways when you place your hand above his own, thumbing at his knuckles.

“Okay.” Your voice feels as soft as your touch. It tickles his nerves, sending a flutter through the pit of his stomach and down to his core.

He leans down, pressing his forehead to yours (a jolt of satisfaction in his chest at the lack of clumsiness). His ears twitch when the pad of your thumb lightly presses into his knuckle. 

“Okay,” he echoes, trying to match your tone. Jiaoqiu softens, gently rubbing his forehead against your own.

Warmth blooms in his chest when you whisper. The market’s ruckus feels like white noise as your words ring in his ears. Like instinct, his lips part before replying in earnest. “I love you, too.”

He wonders if it’s your face that’s burning up, or if it’s his.

It pains him a little, just how long it’s taken him to ask this of you.

Jiaoqiu feels you shift beneath him, adjusting your position before wrapping your legs around his waist again. He softly exhales, tracing the slope of your cheek with the utmost of care. His heart hammers away in his chest, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Don’t move,” he whispers, breathless as he pokes at the fat of your cheek. When you sigh, he lets himself cup your face, the pad of his thumb lightly pressing into the hollow beneath your eye.

“How much longer are you going to do this for?” you ask, curiosity lacing your voice. Jiaoqiu softens, his tail swaying when you lean into his touch.

“Until I’m sure I’ve memorized everything.”

“I thought you already knew my face by heart?” you reply. The corners of his lips curl up into a smile when he hears yours. He gently pinches your cheek, drawing a soft chuckle from your lips.

“I do,” he says, loud enough so it’s meant for your ears only. “I just want to make sure I know it, deep in my soul.”

A soft hum leaves his lips when you squeeze his waist. His hand moves, his thumb tracing the shell of your ear.

“How smooth,” you mumble, brushing a few peachy strands away from his face.

“I want to make sure it’s all like I remember,” he murmurs, complying when you pull him up with your legs. Jiaoqiu’s ears twitch when his nose bumps against yours, a breathless chuckle slipping past his lips.

His hand trails down, his thumb brushing your lower lip. When you gently kiss the digit, his breath hitches. He cups your jaw, trying to find an angle. You simply follow his lead, letting him lead.

He thumbs at the corner of your lips, your breath fanning against his skin. His mouth presses against yours in the softest — faintest — of kisses. When you sigh, he lets himself mold against you. His tongue traces the seam of your lips, his tail swaying when you grant him access.

There’s a hint of desperation behind his actions. Jiaoqiu wonders if you can tell, by the way his tongue licks at your mouth — almost like he’s trying to memorize the way you taste.

He barely gives you any reprieve, breaking the kiss to catch the slightest of breaths before he’s attached to your lips once more. When his name leaves your lips between kisses, heat pools in his stomach. It’s a feeling he’d thought dormant since he’d lost his sight.

Jiaoqiu doesn’t think he’d mind its resurgence — not after the way you part with a whined gasp, struggling to catch your breath. His lips press against the corner of your mouth, then lower, until he’s kissing a trail down to the spot beneath your jaw.

When you struggle to hold back a moan, heat shoots through his veins. Your hands find the back of his head, your fingers tangling in peachy strands. He complies when you help him up, cupping his face before capturing his lips with your own.

For a moment, Jiaoqiu wonders if you taste sweeter than he remembers.

“Guide me.”

“Hm?”

A soft, huffed chuckle escapes Jiaoqiu’s lips. His hand moves to cup your cheek, his thumb applying a delicate pressure beneath your eye. He feels you shift on the bed, your legs tangling with his own.

“Guide me,” he repeats, his ears twitching when you yawn. A gentle noise rumbles in his chest, his body pressing closer to yours and his hand moving lower to let his thumb press against the corner of your mouth. Then, he leans down, his lips replacing the digit.

Heat pools in his stomach at the sigh you let out. His tail lightly sways, the ends puffing out when he nips at your lower lip. “You’ve been patient for long enough,” he murmurs, gently ghosting a kiss over your lips.

“Jiaoqiu—”

“No excuses,” he says, “Please.”

After a light kiss, he adds, “Let me do this for you.”

For a moment, he wonders if it’s your heartbeat he hears, instead of his own. He lets his hand leave your face to rest on the underside of your breast, relishing how your breaths stutter.

“You’ve done more than enough for me,” Jiaoqiu reasons, his voice tender as he moves his face closer to the crook of your neck. “I ought to express my gratitude,” he whispers, noting how you shudder as his breath tickles your skin. He presses his lips against the underside of your jaw — right at the spot he knows makes your breath hitch and your thighs clench. “Shouldn’t I?”

“I didn’t do anything with the intention of getting something in return,” you say. He catches on to the quiver to your tone when his ears twitch. His teeth graze your jaw, soft and experimental as he thumbs at the lower part of your breast.

“Isn’t that reason enough to accept my gratitude with open arms, then?”

You shudder, your hand moving to perch on his shoulder when he trails kisses down to your collarbone. “We both know what your gratitude entails, Jiaoqiu.”

He softly clicks his tongue, letting his canines graze against your skin. The hand on your chest inches upward, moving until his thumb reaches your pert nipple. “Even more reason for you to accept, hm?”

His touch softens when you sigh.

“Isn’t it a little too soon—?”

“I think I should be the one to decide that,” Jiaoqiu mumbles. He presses a soft kiss to your collarbone. 

There’s a slight hesitance to your actions — how you seem to mull over his words. His tail sways, lightly rubbing against the bedsheets as your fingers run through his locks.

“Still, I—” your breath catches, your words interrupted by a wanton whine when delicately rolls your nipple between his fingers. 

Heat shoots through his nerves, fueling the fire in his stomach as he pictures your expression — your face all scrunched up, but your lips parted as you pant. Jiaoqiu slows the barrage of kisses on your skin, softy exhaling.

He wants to see it, so, so desperately.

He wants to feel and touch and see. His ears twitch when you sigh his name, breathless. A soft growl rumbles in his chest in response before he presses an open-mouthed kiss on your collarbone.

“Let me take care of you,” he quietly pleads. “You shouldn’t have to suppress your own needs for my own.”

“I’m not—”

Jiaoqiu nips at your collarbone to cut off your words, his tongue gently soothing the spot. “Don’t lie to me,” he murmurs, his words slightly muffled by your skin. “Not when I hear clearer than I ever could.”

Your grip on his hair falters, your breath hitching. He wonders what expression you wear — are you flustered or taken aback? Or is it something entirely different? 

“Just because I’m blind doesn’t mean I can’t touch you like I used to,” he breathes out, gently rolling your nipple between his fingers. You tug on his hair, your breaths uneven. His lips trail kisses along the expanse of your collarbone. “You just need to guide me.”

His fingers leave your nipple, drawing a soft whine from your lips as he trails them down to your hip.

“It’s about time you replace your fingers with my own, after all,” he rasps, kissing a path back up to your jaw, “Isn’t it?”

His ears twitch when a strained whimper slips past your lips. He nips at your skin before pressing a feather-light kiss on the spot. Heat floods the pit of his stomach when you nod against his head, your hand resting atop the one on your hip.

“You’ve been more than patient, love,” Jiaoqiu whispers, his tail twitching against the sheets as you help his hand down between your thighs. He shudders an exhale, his fingers inquisitive as they search for your clit. His breaths become heavy, fanning against your jaw in a way so ticklish that your thighs instinctively press together.

A choked whine leaves your lips, your fingers curling in his hair. “‘s n-nothing,” you murmur, your voice trembling.

He gently clicks his tongue, his thumb pressing against you once he finds your bud. “It’s not ‘nothing,’” he replies, rubbing his nose along your jaw as he begins to circle your clit. “It’s never easy to care for a patient.”

You mewl, lightly jolting when his index finger prods around in search of your entrance. “W-wait,” you stammer, your hand moving to aid his own. His tail thumps faintly against the bed when his fingertips ghost above your folds.

“Here we go,” he whispers, unable to keep the elation from his voice. For a moment, he wonders if you’ve realized the selfish intentions behind his idea to thank you.

Though, he’s sure that even if you have, you probably don’t mind. Jiaoqiu knows how tired you must be from fingering yourself in his stead. Your fingers were never as good as his at bringing you pleasure, after all.

The corners of his lips curl up into a small smirk, his finger pumping in and out of you with practiced ease. “That’s nice, isn’t it, love?” he asks, his voice a soft coo.

“M-mhm,” you shakily hum, slowly rocking your hips against his digit to match his pace.

“Your sweet cunt just needed my fingers, didn’t it?”

He can’t hold back the purr in the back of his throat when you nod, your fingers fisting his peachy strands when he pushes a second finger into your folds.

“N-needed them s-so bad—!” you cry, your voice cracking. Your free hand grasps at his forearm, your breath quick and uneven pants. “‘s never the same when t-they’re mine…”

Jiaoqiu gently shushes you, peppering kisses against the underside of your jaw. “I know, love,” he coos, his voice full of sympathy. “I’ll take care of it for you.”

You moan, your breath hitching as your walls flutter around his fingers. When they curl, you cry, your hips desperately rocking against his hand. “J-Jiaoqiu—”

“Close already?” he asks, though he fails to hide the smile from his voice. You huff and he chuckles, a sense of satisfaction settling in his gut. How long has it been since he’s felt that — felt anything other than a weight in his chest?

Jiaoqiu can’t be bothered to wonder. Not when your cunt spasms around his fingers, your broken cries and moans rising in volume the more he curls his digits against the spongy spot in your folds.

“That’s it, love,” he breathes out, his voice a heavy rasp. “Let go for me.”

When you cry, he can only picture the expression on your face — can only imagine you look just like you’ve always done when you cum. His chest aches for just a moment, then lightens when you mewl his name.

“T-thank you,” you whisper, your words slightly slurred. Jiaoqiu softens when you kiss the top of his head. 

“I should be the one thanking you,” he replies, hushed. He nuzzles into you, slowly pulling his fingers out of your cunt. His chest rises and falls, weightless for the first time in weeks. “For everything.”

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC: I wanna be like most girls ghosts.

or Danny: What should I do to make my mom happy?

or ~Danny deserves a little teenage rebellion as a treat~

Maddie: I just want this damned Phantom to stop pretending to be a hero! All ghosts are pure evil, who is he trying to deceive? Danny: Oh, really? And Danny took it personally.

It’s not Danny’s fault that he’s a good kid and wants to make his parents happy. But why would he have to be a monster to make them happy? Why must they hate him to be happy?

Danny’s obsession was going crazy.

Well, when your own parents call you a monster in the face, it hurts. Why do they always believe that only their opinion is the absolute truth? They have no idea how much worse things would be if at least some of the ghosts really behaved the way Maddie and Jack think they’re supposed to. If he really is evil by nature, is there any point in fighting his own fate? They want to see him as a villain, he will become one. He will. He just needs a little help and practice. And not bring it to the level when Clockwork has to clean up his mess. Poor guy is without a vacation for how long? Couple of millennia?

Johnny 13: Sup. Danny: F*ck off, Johnny, I’m not in the mood. Busy thinking about world domination. Get out of here or I’ll call Kitty. Johnny 13: What’s wrong? You’re usually so grouchy only towards the end of the week. Danny: Nothing. Just parents. Again. They are wonderful but I can’t help but feel sometimes that they, em… Johnny 13: Suck? Danny: Right…Damn. I’m a terrible son. Maybe something is wrong with me. Johnny 13: What? No, no, dude. You’re just growing up. And you’re a little late, usually teenagers go through that stage before they graduate. Well, you’ve probably been busy with other issues, so just missed it. Danny: I wonder whose fault it is. Aren’t there ghosts who enjoyed to ruin my life in the middle of school day?

Johnny 13: Oh, bother. Anyway, you’re entering a beautiful time of emancipation, where you’re going to shape your own view of life and, along the way, to get drunk on cheap alcohol at parties, maybe to go to jail and to become the greatest disappointment to your family..And then you will be ashamed to remember it for about the next ten years. Danny: Well, it looks like I’ve already done two out of three additional things. Great success. Johnny 13: When did you get drunk? Danny: I didn’t. Johnny 13: Oh. Want to fix that? Danny: What? No. What an idiot wants to add a headache to his problems? Johnny 13: Well, your loss, then I’ll go terrorize the bars of Gotham alone and no one can stop me. Let’s see what your boyfriend will say about it. ~~~~~ Danny: Bartender, another shot of Dead Man’s Fingers, please. Red Hood: Babe, haven’t you had enough? Danny: Have you ever felt that no matter how hard you try, no matter how many sacrifices you make, in their eyes you’ll always be nothing more than a monster? Nothing more than a mistake? Oh, Death doesn’t give people like me a break. Red Hood: …I’ll have what he’s having. *gives the bartender a sign to switch the rum shots to a batburger milkshake for them, and starts talking to Danny so that he doesn’t understand Hood's scams*

~~~~~

Johnny 13: Other people’s kids are growing up so fast. It seems like yesterday he didn’t know how to shoot ectoblast, and now.. Kitty: Stop trying to make me feel bad, we’re leaving. Johnny 13: But the boy needs our support, honey boo!

~~~~~

Danny: I'm fine. Really, I am. This isn’t the first time mom’s called me a monster. She often called me that when she was upset with my behavior in my childhood. Huh, it's even funny. Jason: There’s nothing funny about that. Danny: No, you don’t understand. Looking back, I was really a very active child and didn’t know when to stop. Not surprisingly that I often annoyed my parents. They’re very busy people, and Jazz couldn’t always keep an eye on me. And I was often afraid to go to sleep alone because there were shadows in the darkness of my room. Well, I used to think they were. But I pretended everything was okay to not distract parents from work. Jason: Hey, it’s not your fault. You were a child. Obviously, kiddo requires a lot of attention, they must have understood that. You are the second child in the family, right? Danny: Well, Jazz was different. I don’t know. Anyway, I thought if the monsters behind the curtain and under the bed were just like me, well, according to my mom, you know, then they wouldn’t want to hurt me. And since they look after me, they are friends. So I kinda greeted all the suspicious noises and howls. Huh, I was a strange kid. Jason: If you smile at someone in the dark alley right now that someone is more likely to wet themselves or faint. Danny: Rude! I’m not that scary. Admit that I’m adorable. Do it right now. Jason: Stunning, darling. But still carry a gun and a knife, please. My childhood taught me that what's hiding in the dark is worth beating up. Danny: Come on, what should I be afraid of? Death? Anyway, I want to try this shit. Like, the inevitable one. Being a bad boy, you know? Hood *raises eyebrows*. Danny: Oh damn it man, I'm talking about ghostliness. I want to try to be like most of dead ones. I want to unleash my side of the trickster and the villain. But only a little bit. I have to be supervised so that things don't go too far. Would you help me, honey?

~~~~~2 hours later~~~~

~~~~~

Goons used to expect a lot of weirdness from working with the boss.

Sometimes Bruce Wayne would go into their base and yell at the Red Hood like he's one of his kids. Of course Wayne's well-known as 'Gotta adopt them all' but the guy must really suffer from insomnia to count the Red Hood into his brood of chicks several times. Sometimes the boss would fight Robin or Nightwing over differences in morals…or for biscuits. It varied from moment to moment. Sometimes the boss caught the local street children, fed them and taught them to steal correctly. And most of the foundlings stayed with them under their protection.

To make a long story short, Red Hood is not the typical crime lord that some of them had to deal with before. Which is a blessing. Thanks Lord for the health insurance. But still the crime lord. Which means he's still scary, and sometimes deadly.

Anyway, when the boss brought in a guy who looked more civilian than any civilian in the whole Gotham and said he was going to be their intern, they thought it was a joke at first. Despite the fact that Hood was not in the habit of joking while working.

The teenager was too well-mannered and sweet to come from Crime Alley. Phil thought the guy was gonna run when he saw the first murder, Jessica didn’t think the domestic boy wouldn’t chicken out at the sight of a fight. But arguing with a boss’s orders in their profession is like asking for a bullet in the head, so these conversations were taking place outside of their boss's sight. God, how can they teach him anything? What do you take from a boy who’s only good to do the coffee run? Fenton will fall if they’ll give him something heavier than 10 pounds. And then boss will yell at them because he treats the new guy like a princess on a pea. Well, at least that’s what they thought until the boss decided to give the new guy his own assignments:

~~~~~

Red Hood: So, what have you learned during your internship, my young Padawan? Danny: Well, it looks like I’m gonna suck at being a criminal mastermind. I think I may have to find myself some other profession. Red Hood: Come on, you just need a little more practice. Danny: Thank you but I don’t think that’s fit my obsession that good. Don't misunderstand me, I wanna be like most ghosts. But I was wrong to go to hit that goal only base on human stereotypes about my nature. Red Hood: What a pity. The newbies just learned not to flinch when you walk in. But, to be honest, I'm not gonna miss the adrenaline-boosting roller coaster of you at work. Danny: Oh, and I guess to hold on to the concept of humanity was really stupid too. I clearly no longer fit in and I’m finally ready to accept that. So, hopefully, if you get into trouble, you can rely on my ghostliness and call for help. I am the spirit of many talents and of my word. I can haunt your enemies or walk through the walls of Arkham Asylum. Whatever you need, I’ll be here. Red Hood: I’ll bear that in mind.