#thread: fool's gold | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

angelicyoongie · 1 month

Text

The Ivory Fang (I)

— pairing: mermaid taehyung x (f) reader — word count: 6k — warnings: (soft?) yandere, mention of illness (not the reader) — summary: You have run out of options when it comes to treating your mother's illness. When a mysterious man offers you a solution that might save her, you decide that nothing is too strange if it means it'll lead to a cure – not even finding and striking a deal with a mermaid.

Part 01 - 02

"My apologies, miss, but there's nothing I can do to aid your mother. Her malady is too severe."

The healer gives you a sympathetic look before he closes his door, the bell hanging above it chiming into the quiet night. You let out a shaky exhale, staring at the door that just sealed your mother's fate.

You have exhausted every possible option of looking for a cure, pleaded with every healer you've come across to please just try, but none have been willing. They always take one look at your mother, pale and gaunt in her bed, practically rotting away as she lays there, before they scurry away, refusing to treat her.

They may see a lost cause, a patient too sick to be cured, but you just see your mother – the woman who raised you by herself and taught you that even if all else fails, she would always be there to catch you.

The gold coins in your satchel clink together as you pull yourself away from the healer's door, your steps heavy as you begin the walk back to your house.

"What a fool," You grit, kicking at a stone in front of you, "If you had any common sense you should at least pretend like you had a cure and bled me dry."

Your throat bobs as you glance up at the night sky. The stars twinkle on without a worry, indifferent that their biggest admirer hasn't laid her eyes on them in months. You never quite saw the beauty in them like your mother did – like she still does – but they are practical for lighting your way home. It's the least they can do, as the tearful wishes you've bestowed upon their fallen brothers and sisters have all gone unheard since your mother fell ill.

It happened so suddenly, so unexpectedly, that you still have no idea what caused it. One day your mother was fine and the next she was unable to get out of bed, falling in and out of consciousness. It's been months of you doing everything you can to help her, but nothing has even given her a moment of respite from the illness that's ravaging her body. You're truly at your wit's end.

You press your hands to your eyes as they begin to blur, willing them not to fall. On the off chance that your mother is lucid when you return, you don't want to cause her the worry of seeing your swollen eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Taking a few deep breaths, you attempt to calm yourself, rubbing at your eyelids until the urge to cry subsides.

As you let your hands fall away, you find yourself squinting as you re-open your eyes, hazy lights filling your vision. Your steps slow as you draw near the source, a lit-up storefront beckoning you in with its warm, flickering lights.

"This isn't.." You look over your shoulder, seeing the faint outline of the healer's door further up the road. You walk along this path every day and yet, you have never seen this store before. You can't quite seem to recall what used to be there but you know it wasn't this.

Trepidation slowly sinks in as you keep walking forward, intent to let your feet carry you past the shop without a backward glance. Even so, a moment of morbid curiosity makes you pause, your eyes drinking in the soft glow of the seemingly floating lights in the window. Turning your head this way and that, you can't see the string holding them up, the thread much too thin to be visible in such low light. The windows are covered with rich fabrics, not allowing you to look inside past the heavy drapes. Your initial thought about this being a magician's shop falls short as you notice the etching into the glass, the lettering spelling out 'The Healing Shoppe'.

The name gives you a foolish burst of hope, your body already halfway up the stairs before you remember just how odd this whole thing is. A mysterious shop has appeared out of thin air and you're going to trust it just like that? Every rational part of your brain is urging you to leave, to forget that you ever laid eyes on this shop. But.. You can't simply ignore it on the odd chance that something inside might help your mother.

Taking a deep breath, you cross the last steps and find yourself in front of the door. As you press down on the handle, it gives away with a soft rattle. The sound is peculiar, certainly like no bell you've ever heard before; but with no visual clues of what it might be, you find that you can't quite place it. You take a hesitant step into the shop, the dimly lit space in front of you more like a hallway than a proper room. The walls are empty aside from a few lit candles, only a heavy drape obscuring what you assume to be a doorway further down the corridor.

"Hello?" You call out.

You pause, straining your ears for a reply, but nothing comes. Just as you're about to leave, worried that someone simply forgot to close up their shop, you hear a heavy thud from behind the curtain.

There's no noise aside from the impact, no immediate call for help, but there's still a possibility that someone may be hurt. Perhaps they fainted or are too weak to call out to you. You decide then that you're just going to take a look behind the drape, just to make sure everything is alright so that you can leave in good conscience.

You walk past the flickering candlelight, stomach swirling with unease as you reach out for the curtain. The material is soft in your hand, threads of shimmering silver woven so delicately into it that you can't even feel it as you run your thumb across it. The fabric is heavy as you finally push it aside, your eyes widening in surprise as you take in what it was hiding.

The room you step into is filled to the brim with shelves and cabinets, all of them displaying a different collection of oddities. There's dried flowers and herbs hanging from the ceiling, the many bunches of lavender spreading a calming scent throughout the space. There's a round table placed in the middle of the room, two chairs pushed up against it. The tablecloth is made out of the same material as the drape and your fingers are already itching to touch it again.

Glancing around, you find that the shelf next to you is stacked to the brim with gemstones of every cut and color imaginable, their polished surface reflecting the sparkling jars from across the room. If your mother was here, she would insist that they were filled with stardust, the shimmering substance so bright it's nearly imitating the night sky you looked up at just moments before.

You walk slowly around the room, captivated by all of the different items you find. A shudder runs through you as you pause near a display filled with skulls, some of the shapes so outlandish you wonder if the owner has somehow mended different species together just for show.

As you finally make a full circle back to the doorway you stepped through, you realize that there's nothing in this room that should have made the thud you heard earlier. There's no one here and nothing even seems slightly out of place.

Stumped, you lean forward on the table, running your fingers over the soft texture of the cloth as you give the room another look. Is there a door you missed somewhere? Perhaps you were too captivated by the content to really pay attention to the room.

"And who might you be?"

You spin around, heart in your throat, from the sudden deep voice speaking up behind you.

You stumble over an apology as you take in the cloaked figure in front of you, their face obscured by the big hood pulled over their head. The uneasy feeling in your stomach returns tenfold as you realize you're trapped between the table and this mysterious person, their broad frame blocking the only way in and out of the room.

"I–" You're saved from your poor explanation as the figure pulls their hood off, revealing the most beautiful man you've ever seen in your life. His light brown hair is tousled and wavy like he just came from a swim in the ocean, his skin sun-kissed as if he's spent his days laying by the shore. You find yourself unable to form words as you take in his chiseled jaw and almond-shaped eyes, the colour such a striking light blue, they almost appear white.

It's a little unsettling how piercing his gaze is, almost as if he's looking right into you rather than at you. Just as your eyes flicker to the curtain behind him, an excuse forming in your head for a swift exit, the man says, "What brings you to my shop?"

Flashes of your mother's gaunt face appear before your eyes, the sound of her breathing becoming heavier and heavier echoing in your ears. Even if you feel uneasy in this man's presence, you can't let this chance slip to your fingers. You owe your mother that much.

"I noticed the sign out front, that you have a healing shop? My mother.." You take a deep breath, swallowing down the lump in your throat. "My mother is very ill. No doctor or healer is willing to help her, they say her sickness is too severe. You.. You're my last hope."

"Hmm, I see," The man nods. He gestures to one of the chairs, "Please have a seat and explain your troubles. I need all the details you can give regarding your mother's malady."

You quickly slip into the nearest chair, your palms clammy with nervous anticipation. This is the first person who has ever bothered to ask, who actually seems to care. You watch the man as he rounds the table, his gait awkward and staggered as he walks with difficulty to his chair. The way he moves is nothing like you've seen before. It's certainly no ordinary limp, you've never seen anyone walk so .. unnaturally before.

The man catches your eye as he lowers himself to his seat.

"I know my condition is quite unsightly, please excuse me. Due to some unforeseen circumstances, I have had to train my legs to bear my weight. It has left me feeling like a fish out of water."

He flashes you a crooked smile, the amused twinkle in his eye alerting you of a joke you don't quite understand. You wonder if his condition is similar to your old neighbor's. The man had a painful sickness in his legs and spent most of his time in a wheeled chair, but he could walk on them if it was necessary. Though the few times you did see him walk, it still looked, well, human.

"Oh no, that's alright," You wave your hands, embarrassed that your staring might have made him feel self-conscious.

Desperate to turn the conversation away from the man's illness, you begin recounting everything you can remember about your mother's sickness. You tell him about how it began so suddenly, the severity of it and how no one else is willing to aid her, all noting her as a lost cause.

"Most curious," The man hums.

He leans back in his seat, his piercing gaze moving slowly across your face, scrutinizing it. He mutters something under his breath, too low for you to hear, before he raises his voice and says, "While I may not know what your mother's sickness is, I do know that there is only one thing that can cure her. A mermaid's magic."

"Pardon me?" You stare incredulously at the man. "Did you just say mermaid? As in the creatures from folktales?"

"I do know it sounds outlandish, or perhaps you'd find insane to be a more fitting word, but it's your last chance at curing your mother. Have you not exhausted all man-made options?"

You slump in your seat, biting down on your lip as you mull his words over. You have indeed done all you could to save your mother and to no avail. While it does sound absolutely mad to go searching for a mythological creature to aid her, perhaps crazy is just what you need. You're not sure just how much you trust this strange man but for all you know, he could be speaking the truth. He certainly looks like he believes in it himself.

"Where.. Where would I find one?"

The man tuts. "That's not the question you should be asking, guppy. A mermaid requires a sacrifice of equal value to what you are asking of them. What are you willing to give to receive their help?"

"Anything," You reply, "The cost doesn't matter. I'd give up anything to save my mother."

The man grins, his smile a little sharper than before, as he pulls out a weathered map from his cloak. He traces the route you need to take, crossing over the vast ocean to reach a cluster of islands on the other side.

"Finally, you will need to take a boat from Pearl Bay to this island right here. Once you locate the mermaid, you have to offer him this," The man places a tooth on the table, the whites of it glistening under the candlelight.

You hesitantly reach across the table to pick it up, the size and weight of it much more substantial than you were expecting. You find that the tooth is much more like a fang, one end pointed and sharp. It's nothing like you've seen before.

"What animal does this belong to?" You ask, tracing what looks like a red vein embedded in the side of it.

You look up as you're only met with silence, the man's heavy gaze transfixed on your hand and the fang held in your palm. He only seems to remember his surroundings as you lower it to your lap, removing it from his sight.

The man clears his throat as he pulls the hood back over his head. Ignoring your question, he nudges the map closer to you on the table, "I have given you everything you need. It is up to you to decide whether your mother lives – or dies. Good luck."

Your mind is made up a few days later when your mother starts coughing up blood. You doubt she has more than a few weeks left to live at the rate her sickness is eating her up, so you'll have to act right away if you want to save her. You still have your doubt about the journey, about the creature you're supposed to find, but the risk is worth it if the alternative is being left to always wonder if it could have cured her. You know you wouldn't be able to live with yourself if the mysterious man was correct and you didn't do anything about it.

"I'll find a cure, I promise," You give your mother a gentle kiss on her forehead. The lines on her hollowed face are scrunched with pain, her every breath a mere wheeze as her chest struggles to rise and fall.

You meet the saddened eyes of your neighbor as you press a few gold coins into her hand, whispering a few words of gratitude for her care while you're away. The journey shouldn't take more than ten nights to complete but you have paid her far more than that, just on the off chance that the weather delays your return. With your goodbyes said, you heft your rucksack onto your shoulder as you slip out of the cottage and set course for the port.

The sun has barely risen as you locate the ship that will take you south, the wooden dock filled with travelers and crew all headed in different directions. You're surprised to find that the ship is quite large, the deck just as bustling as the dock below. With all of the boxes and barrels being loaded up, you figure it's likely a cargo ship, moving wares and supplies out to the islands. While the journey is bound to be loud and quite cramped, you think the noise might actually do you some good. You hadn't realized just how much of your own energy had been sapped alongside your mother's, how much you missed the sound of laughter and life being lived around you. You'll be stuck on this ship until it reaches Pearl Bay, unable to do much other than sleep and converse with the people around you, so perhaps this will be a much needed break – a chance for you to wind down until you reach shore. Gods know you'll need it, especially since you're supposed to hunt down a fabled creature once your feet hit solid ground.

You fight to open your eyes as the sound of the howling winds outside sweep through the room, your stomach turning at the thought of having to move to see what caused it. The trap door slams shut before you muster up the courage to turn over, the sounds once again dampened by the heavy wood.

"Ay girlie, who made you this angry?!" A crewman huffs as he stumbles down the stairs to the lower deck, bracing his hands on the walls for support.

You bite your teeth together as another thunderous wave crashes against the side of the ship. The next round of nausea washes over you as the ship rocks back and forth, the wood groaning as it tries to steady itself. It's been three days of hellish waters, the storm breaking out as soon as the ship hit the open sea. You've spent most of it confined to your cot, barely being able to keep any water or food down before another rough wave causes your stomach to empty.

The lower deck is filled with pained moans and whimpers, the majority of the passengers fairing just as poorly as you. It feels like you're stuck in a loop of absolute misery with the heavy rain that pours down on the deck above and the angry sea that threatens to pull the ship under at any moment.

You let out a slow breath through your nose, trying to think about anything else but the bile slowly rising up your throat. So much for that relaxation. Desperate for some respite from your turning stomach, you close your eyes and turn your focus onto the indistinct chatter happening on the other side of the room. The low, murmuring voices prove to be enough of a distraction that you soon find your consciousness slipping, a welcome darkness taking over you as the storm continues to rage outside.

The next time you wake up, the ship is quiet and still, like the previous days were nothing more than a fever dream. It takes you longer than you'd like to make your way up on deck, your legs trembling and weak after barely any substance over the past three days. The fresh air and warm sunlight feels heavenly on your skin as you stumble past the other travelers sprawled out on the deck, a few of them still moaning about the ship moving too much, despite its now still glide on the quiet water. The ship's railing seems like a good spot to rest, the sturdy wood providing a nice support to lean against as you survey the sea around you. The water is crystal blue, glittering under the bright sun. You've never seen anything quite like it. You let out a gasp as a school of fish pass by the ship, their gray hue reflecting the light so beautifully it looks like molten silver dancing around under the water's surface.

You stand by the ship's edge for a while, long enough for the other passengers to begin retreating back to their cots. Just as you're about to do the same, you see what looks like a white, large fin hitting the surface of the sea, the creature below too obscured by the distance from the ship to really make out. Even so, you can tell it's no regular fish. The small waves caused by the impact must surely mean that it's a strong animal.

"Did you see that?" You turn to the man resting next to you, hoping he might have an explanation of what you just saw.

The man startles as you address him, clearly on the brink of falling asleep where he stands. He blinks, rubbing his eyes as he turns his attention to the spot you're pointing to.

"There's nothing there, miss," He grumbles, openly annoyed that you woke him up.

"What? But–" As you turn back to look at the sea, you realize he's right. The creature you saw is no longer there.

"Was likely just a dolphin, miss. There's lots of them in these waters."

"I suppose so," You concede. Having never seen one in real life, only on paper, you have no clue how large they're supposed to be. Yet, something in your gut tells you that this was no dolphin – this was something entirely different.

You're not left to ponder the creature for long, not when you're alerted that Pearl Bay has been spotted in the distance. Your final night at the ship passes by in the blink of an eye, time seemingly fueled by your nerves as you suddenly find yourself stepping onto solid ground once again. With a decent night's rest behind you and a warm meal in your stomach, you set course for the next point on your map.

Following the mysterious man's instructions, you find the path going along the outskirts of the bay, walking until you stumble upon the described hut nestled close to the water's edge. The woman inside seems eager to rent you a rowboat, citing that she doesn't get much business on the far side of the island.

It isn't until she asks you where you're going that her demeanor changes, her expression turning haunted as she glances in the direction of your destination, just barely visible where the sky meets the sea.

"There is something wicked in those waters," The woman shudders, her hands shaking as she accepts a gold coin for payment, "You'd better stay away if you value your life, miss."

Your stubbornness won't allow you to turn back now, not when you've already come so far, but that doesn't mean you're not affected by her warning. Her spooked expression lingers in the back of your mind as you push the boat out to sea, your own hands trembling with uncertainty as you grab the oars and begin to row.

Perhaps you are truly foolish to ignore all of the warning signs you have been presented with, but what is a little danger if it means it can heal your mother? You'll just have to stay vigilant, making sure not to take any risks and be alert to your surroundings.

With your rucksack tucked between your legs, you hum a gentle tune, trying to calm the anxiety building with every stroke forward.

The eerie feeling grows heavier the more distance you put between yourself and Pearl Bay, the island in the distance seemingly never drawing closer no matter how long and how hard you row. You set out before the sun had reached its highest point and now its rays are almost touching the sea, the sky a pure orange. Truly, it feels like you have just been paddling in place this whole time, not moving an inch despite the bay becoming fainter and fainter behind you.

Your arms are burning from the hours of exercise, your breath labored and heavy with exhaustion. You were hoping to make it to shore before nightfall – the map did not indicate that the journey would be this long – but you fear your body might shut down if you try to push it for much longer.

You pull the oars into the boat, intending to just take a short break and rest your eyes before your final stretch of the evening.

You swear you haven't dozed off for more than a quarter of an hour, the sunset still vivid and bright, but as you reopen your eyes, you're shocked to find the island close, its proximity now near enough that you can make out the palm trees on the shore and faint details of the wild mountain imposing behind them.

"How?" You breathe.

As you shift on the bench, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you notice that your feet feel much colder than before your nap. Wet.

Glancing down, you find the bottom of the boat filled with water, the amount already well above your ankles. You fumble for the oars, cursing as you begin to row with all of your might. You can't tell where the leak is coming from and scooping the water out with your hands won't get you anywhere. Your best bet is just to get the boat as close to land as possible and then swim the rest of the way.

You resolutely do not think about what may be lurking in the water as you finally abandon the sinking boat, your rucksack balanced precariously on your head as you lower yourself into the cold water. You wonder for a split second if it's better to leave it but the extra portions of food you brought with you will surely come in handy now that your way of returning to Pearl Bay is at the bottom of the ocean.

Biting your teeth together, you begin to swim, your gaze locked onto the beach. Time feels endlessly long as you push yourself forward, the minutes ticking by so slowly they might as well have been hours.

You let out a sob of relief as your feet finally touch solid ground, every limb shaking with exhaustion as you waddle the rest of the way up to dry land. You collapse the moment you hear sand crunching under your soaked boots, panting, as your vision swirls from fatigue.

You lie there until the chill begins to set in, your dripping clothes sticking to your skin like an icy embrace. Groaning, you push yourself up on your feet, knowing you'll have to attempt to create a fire if you want any warmth to return to your body.

The sky is beginning to grow dark, its orange hues replaced by deep purple and blue. It's only now that you realize just how unnaturally quiet the island is, with no noise to be heard aside from the water lapping at the shore and a gentle breeze flowing through the palm trees. Even if you hadn't been this exhausted and cold, you would never dare to venture further into the thick vegetation in the dark. You don't trust the island to not lead you astray.

"Suppose I'll stay here for the night," You murmur.

You rummage through your rucksack, pulling out the change of clothes you had brought with you just in case. You're ever thankful for your own foresight as you strip out of your soaked garments, goosebumps racing down your skin as you hurry to pull on a dry blouse and trousers. It isn't just the cold that's making your skin crawl – you can't help feeling like somewhere in the darkness of the deep ocean, or in the shadows in the midst of the trees, someone is watching you.

You glance around as you do your blouse up, finding absolutely nothing staring back at you.

Yet, the feeling lingers.

It takes you longer than you'd like to admit getting a fire started, the branches you find a little too damp to really catch a spark. Still, some deity seems to take pity on you and allows one of your attempts to succeed, the branch igniting and spreading the flames to the rest of your small bonfire. You scarf down half of the food and water you brought with you as you soak up the warmth, deciding that despite your still vocal stomach, it's better to save the rest for tomorrow. You have no idea how large this island actually is, so there's no question that you'll have to keep your energy up.

With your stomach slightly sated and your shivering down to a minimum, you curl up on the beach, as close to the open flames as you dare. You use your rucksack as a makeshift pillow, piling up the rest of your supplies close by. Despite the unnerving, oppressive air that hangs over the island, you succumb to sleep quickly, your exhaustion too great to fight.

Your dreams are restless, haunted by sharp teeth and whispers, a deep baritone voice urging you to come find him. You wake with a start, alarmed that the puff of air you sensed across your ear in your nightmare felt a little too real.

Heart racing in your chest, you quickly survey the beach, finding nothing out of the ordinary. Your bonfire has long since extinguished itself, its ashes intertwined with the sand below.

Reaching out behind you, you frown as you don't feel the pouch of water you know you left there the night before.

Turning around, you're met with absolutely nothing. Your food and water are gone, and the clothes you left out to dry are nowhere to be seen.

You would suspect an animal to be behind it but you really don't think there's any here. It's too quiet. Not even an insect has passed you by since you stepped foot on this island.

Perhaps the sensation you felt wasn't just a dream, maybe there's someone – something – here.

"You're fine, you're fine," You whisper, digging your hands into the sand to ground yourself. You don't have time to panic. If all of your supplies are gone, it just means you have even less time to locate the creature you came here for. You have to move. Now.

You push yourself up to your feet, dusting sand off your clothes. Your boots are long gone too but you doubt they would have been of much use anyway with the way they were gurgling the night before.

Taking a deep breath, you begin walking towards the thick vegetation a little further up the beach, where the sand meets lush, long grass. The jungle you step into is so dense that the sunlight barely manages to peek through the trees, only small dapples of sunlight flickering across the ground as the leaves move with the wind. The map provided to you didn't show where you would find the mermaid once you reached the island, so you're left to wander aimlessly, pushing aside shrubs and climbing over fallen trees.

Even if you have no idea which way you should be headed, it's almost as if your body knows, your feet carrying you in what you can only hope is the right direction. Your path becomes clear as you break through the trees and find yourself at the edge of the mountain, near the shore. Your journey must have led you to the other side of the island, and the massive cave that's carved out of the mountain is too imposing to be anything but your destination. From the folktales you have heard, it seems like the perfect place to find a mermaid.

The cave mouth is facing out into the ocean, its size big enough to fit a ship through it. You say a small prayer to whatever deity is willing to listen as you square your shoulders and walk in, your barren footsteps echoing into the quiet mountain. You keep close to the wall as you follow the rocky ledge that trails along it, mindful of the stream that runs parallel to your path. The water here is darker, not as willing to divulge what may be lurking beneath its surface. It seems this cave has a paved a road for those with feet and fins.

You follow the ledge as it veers to to left and it soon becomes apparent to you that you have stepped into a tunnel, something much smaller and damper compared to the cave entrance. You can almost graze your fingertips against the mountain above you now.

It doesn't take long before the tunnel opens up before you, showing you sunlight streaming in through holes in the mountain. This cavern is large and wide, showing off a pool of water in the middle of it. You freeze near the edge of the tunnel, still shrouded in its shadows, as you finally lay eyes on the creature you have been searching for – the mermaid.

It's lounging in the water, its back turned towards you as it uses its arms to rest on the pool's edge. You find yourself mesmerized by its tail, the massive thing almost as long as a full-grown adult. It's white in colour but the scales appear to have a pearlescent luster to them, shimmers of pink and green reflecting in the water.

The mermaid's body resembles a man, showing off a chiseled back and strong muscles as he moves his arms. The mermaid's tousled, light brown hair looks oddly familiar from the back, but you know no men who sport that kind of style. There's no place for vanity in your town.

"Hello?" You call out as you step into the cavern.

You hold your breath as the mermaid flips its body around at the sound of your voice, its strong tail splashing in the water. Dumbfounded, you watch as the mermaid pushes his hair back, revealing a face you already know.

It's the mysterious man from the healing shoppe, the same one that told you to come find the mermaid – to come find him.

The man grins as he drinks in your shock, his teeth much sharper than you remember them.

"Ah, pretty human, it seems that you decided to save your mother's life after all."

"You.." You struggle to make sense of what you're seeing, none of it adding up. "Who are you?"

"Me? Oh, pardon my manners. You may call me Taehyung, human. I believe you have a request for me?"

A sudden gust of wind comes through the cave as the mermaid utters his name, a loud rattling echoing between the walls of the cavern. You remember hearing that same sound before, the night you stepped into his shop. The moment you glance up to find the source, you find yourself immediately regretting it.

The darkest spots of the cave's ceiling are filled with clumps of hanging bones, all made up of various animals. They rattle as the wind makes them sway, causing them to knock into each other over and over. You swallow thickly as you spot a skull that is very distinctly human, its warning not lost on you.

You scramble a step back as you look back to the water and find Taehyung much closer than before. He's resting casually on the pool's edge, his chin in his hand as he observes you from only a few feet away. His icy gaze is locked on to you and there's a glint in his eye that makes you all too aware that you have nowhere to run. Even if you make it out of the cave, you will still be trapped on the island. The water is Taehyung's domain and you're surrounded by it.

Foolishly naive and desperate as you are, you have let a predator lead you right into his grasp.

a/n: want to read chapter two right away? you can! just click here and it'll bring you straight to early access 💖

welcome to the third installment in the crimson shell universe (all of the stories are stand alones though, so you'll be fine even if you haven't read the others)!! i know we didn't see too much of tae in this chapter but i can promise you he'll make plenty of apperances in the next one 👀 this is a yandere mermaid story, but this fic will be... softer (?) in comparison to the others! i'd love to know what you think so far!! 💖

the next(/final) chapter will be posted in three weeks time! if you don't want to wait and would like to support me, you can read it now through early access on my kofi! the link is above. thank you!! 💖

#yandere au #yandere bts #yandere taehyung #yandere mermaid #mermaid bts #mermaid taehyung #taehyung x reader #bts x reader #mermaid au #yandere x reader

759 notes · View notes

anantaru · 8 months

Note

riled up alhaitham hiding his jealousy from us? hehe

cw. jealous alhaitham, he doesn't get jealous okay!!! lots of teasing, fem! reader

you are aware that alhaitham doesn't get jealous, for anybody to even assume that should be vehemently questioned— but this time, he hesitates to voice anything out loud in an usually apathetic manner, rather does he resort to kiss your bare shoulder lightly, working meticulously as his kisses remain soft and faint.

that night, alhaitham was more silent than usual, it's like he had been deep in thought while also being closely intimate with you, "how insolent," he sighs out, grinding himself against all the right spots to make you arch into him.

you bow your hips deliciously into his shaft as he continues, "to think that someone would actually pursue you in front of me," poising on the edge of a witty continuation, you make him float back to reality the moment you dug your nails into his bare back, cutting him from his thoughts slightly.

"are you jealous?" you taunt, a slight crease appearing above your brow as he playfully smacks the plush of your ass, needy and urgent splitting your legs to settle in between.

he looks a little agitated as he answered, "who, me?" he leisurely rubs his cock-head through your wet folds before pressing into your clit a little, as to tickle and trace around the fragile nubs, "don't make a fool out of yourself with such claims,"

"i do not get jealous," he says, simply, enough demand in his voice that it made you tremble a bit— and perhaps it also hurt in a way, for alhaitham to say that he couldn't possibly become jealous because of another person hitting on you in front of his eyes.

although it was hard to believe he didn't get at least a little irked— especially now when he's fierce and hungry and full of need and want for you.

alhaitham moves his hand before running it up and down your hips, clearly he's too impatient to taunt you tonight, but he still does it because he needs to keep up the act.

and it's not like he doesn't understand the brittle emotions he was going through right now— it's that those certain frames of ones mind vexed him, not to mention that they made it all the more difficult to focus on the current moment, which was you.

"p-please," you can hardly string two syllables together, your mouth hanging open as his lips curl into a smirk when he notices goosebumps quiver along your skin, "please, what?" the man retorts back, his rigid erection sliding up and down your soaked folds while making sure to nudge against your hole ever so often.

"just, ugh, just get to it," you pout, "please!" your body was telling him everything he needed to know as you writhe against his rattling trace, now warm and slick with arousal sticking on your hole and ass.

alhaitham grinds his rock-hard member against your clit, his hand suddenly letting go off your hip to grab his dick as he began to thrust it into the tunnel of his palm.

he towers over your body to rest against the nook of your neck, low chuckles ghosting into your ear, "you're not getting anything tonight," he coos, "or are you?" nipping and tonguing a spot where your ear meets your neck while he adds pressure on his shaft, resulting in him groaning into your ear hungrily, the pure filth in his tone finding a new focus for your cravings.

"what're you gonna do about it, hm?" he whispers as you moan, surging, seeking, your fingers threading into his hair to force him to look at you.

"you're mean," you claim, your legs writhing as he inserts his tip in your hole, your voice already distant, drowning in pleasure when he begins to fuck you with his red hued tip.

alhaitham laughs lovingly at your crystallized mind, your scent was pungent on his nostrils as he moans brokenly at your familiar taste. he truly savors the moment when you draw him into your hole just hard enough to mark his cock with your arousal.

listening to the mellow rings in his vocalization was like a gold string tugging on an angel-like puppet— it's immediate when it tugs you from your dazed mind right back into him.

"no one could make be get jealous," alhaitham turns his entire focus to your lower half, "because i trust you," slowly inserting inches after inches of his shaft, "you're mine, this is mine, there's no one that can change that," he adds in a raspy tonality before you arch your back to grind into him, grinning against his mouth, melting at his words.

"but i am *not* jealous," well, there it was again.

but it's his turn to moan into your mouth as his grunts mingle softly in the air, his lips smirking, more ideas forming, "so do not ever say that again,"

#genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #alhaitham x reader #al haitham smut #al haitham x reader #alhaitham smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #alhaitham x you #genshin drabbles #genshin impact drabbles

2K notes · View notes

scribblesofagoonerr · 5 months

Text

Burntout

I got upset and cried, and then I decided to try and write something that I am currently relating too, right now.

Lifes' full of up and downs, and sometimes its' okay to admit that you're not okay.

pairings: lotte wubben-moy x reader, alessia russo x reader

warnings: angst, meh.

The morning sun painted streaks of gold across the training grounds as you took part in another intense training session ahead of the upcoming game at the weekend.

You had joined the team just shy of a few months ago with dreams as big as the stadium in which they were due to play in, but beneath the facade of determination, you carried a weight that threatened to crush your spirit.

With each day that passed, you felt like the pressure mounted even more. The expectation were high, the scrutiny, the relentless pursuit of perfection - It all bore down on your shoulders like a somewhat invisible burden.

You found it easy to smile for the cameras, laugh along with your team mates jokes but inside, you felt like you were drowning.

There were a few of your team mates who were quick to note your struggles, 2 familiar faces from your past club, Lotte and Alessia, who had sensed the change in your demeanor. Of course they knew you all too well to be fooled by any of the facade you worse so carefully, they were able to see the cracks forming beneath the surface, the fragile threads that held you together.

Lacing up her boots, Lotte exchanged a knowing glance with Alessia, they both understood that something was amiss, something that needed to be addressed before it was too late.

During a break in the training session, Lotte and Alessia decide to approach you, concern etched in their expressions. "Hey, kid. Are you okay?" Lotte asked gently, her voice filled with geninue worry.

Your facade faltered, just for a moment, before you hastily plastered on a smile, "Of course, I'm fine," you replied, your voice a practiced melody of reassurance.

However, your team mates didn't seem entirely all that convinced. You should have known they would see through you and be able to recongise the pain hidden behind your smile.

You failed to keep your act up.

Lotte and Alessia were like 2 big sisters, you weren't that much younger than them, but you adopted the nickname as the kid, they were both fiercely protective of you and fought anyone who vowed to say anything bad about you.

"You don't have to pretend with us," Alessia stepped closer to you, her eyes searching your face, "We know that you're struggling. It's okay to admit it,"

Tears welled up in your eyes straight away as they threatened to spill over, the dam that you had built around your emotions was crumbling and you could no longer hold back to the flood any longer.

With a shaky breath, you finally let go of the facade that you had been wearing for so long.

"I'm not... I'm not okay," You whispered, your voice barely above a whimper. "I'm just finding it hard to cope right now, you know? I guess its' hard to try and fake a smile, act happy and that, when I don't feel like I'm truly happy."

"Oh kid," Lotte murmered, enveloping you in her comforting embrace, that Alessia joined in as well, both of them offering silent support as you let your emotions flow freely.

"Listen, Y/N/N, we know that you're finding things difficult here, but it will be okay and eventually, you will get used to it," Alessia said softly. "You've got so much potential, you're going to take the world by storm. We believe in you and your not alone in this anymore."

Lotte nodded in agreement with the blonde, "Less is right there, kid. We're going to be here with you every single step of the way, you can always talk to us about anything at all, remember?" she paused and waited for your response of a nod before she continued. "Your like a sister to the two of us and we hate to see you struggling at all, we love you so much, kid."

As the embrace with the two older girls lingered, the weight on your shoulders slowly began to lift and felt like it was replaced with a sense of relief that you hadn't felt in a long time.

"Thank you," You whispered, pulling back slightly both of them, meeting their concerned gazes with newfound determination. "I promise I'll talk to you both and be more open about how I feel from now on. I don't want to keep pretending like everything is okay when its' not."

Lotte smiled softly while her eyes were filled with understanding, "We're here for you, always," she reminded you, her voice unwavering in its' support.

"Together, we'll help you get through this," Alessia rested her hand reassuringly on your shoulder, "You're not alone," she repeated, her voice filled with conviction.

#woso x reader #arsenal x reader #arsenal women x reader #arsenal wfc x reader #woso one shot #woso fanfics #heavy angst #scribblesofagoonerr #lottewubbenmoy x reader #alessiarusso x reader #woso imagine

247 notes · View notes

lumosinlove · 5 days

Text

Write Me In

Part Five

His office felt weird. New York felt weird. Even being with Cassie felt weird. Leo was so groggy in his real life that sometimes, when he was washing his face or sitting in a meeting or grabbing a bagel for lunch, he wondered if he had just been sleeping that whole time with Finn and Logan. He wouldn’t put it past himself to dream up something like that. Leave it to him to think making dinner for two of the biggest names in the music industry was a daydream. And the kissing, of course, but he spent far more time thinking about salt water in Finn’s hair and the way Logan looked walking around the markets. It was all smeared gold in his mind. And then there were the dirty dreams which he kept accidentally thinking about in meetings.

The article was going to lead this month’s issue, which meant it would come out right as Finn and Logan started up their tour again. A crew was being sent out to Nice for the cover shoot and Leo had been so jealous when he found out that he’d had to excuse himself from the meeting for a moment. He missed them. He probably scrolled through their messages too much.

The thread started when Leo had settled into a cab and opened the app to text them that he’d landed, only to find an incoming FaceTime call interrupting him. Leo had saved their numbers under their initials—as if that would really fool anyone. So, when Finn’s first FaceTime had popped up, he’d been more than surprised to find difficult little rock star calling him instead, complete with a photo that Finn seemed to have taken himself—him and Logan basking in the sun, hair wet from the ocean and cheeks smushed together.

Leo had answered with, “and what’s Logan saved under then?”

Finn had just grinned and ran off screen—presumably to grab Logan’s phone because a second later, Leo got a text of !! from grumpy<3

Leo figured that was subtle enough to keep. He’d pushed his headphones into his ears and let Finn’s voice fill his head as the city rose up and greeted him in its sunset.

Somehow, without so much as a ripple, talking to them had started feeling like talking to old friends. Once a day. Twice a day. Photographs of their lunches and messy work spaces in between. When Leo received his fist voice memo, he’d had to lock himself in the bathroom at work and breathe a few times before hitting play.

“Hi, Le,” Finn’s voice said. “Okay—we’re writing today. Lo, hello, say hi.”

“Hi, hey,” Logan said, then let out a wicked cough. “Sorry, Finn made me do one of those ginger shots and I’m in hell.”

Leo covered his laugh with his hand.

“Shut up, it’s good for you,” Finn replied. “Okay, anyway. So, this is called—oh, I’m gonna be on the piano. But this is—and I’m gonna try to play it straight through.”

“Stop interrupting yourself,” Logan said, then it sounded like he got closer to Finn’s phone. “It’s called Neon Signs and it’s off of the new album, and we know your editor wanted you to hear one more song for the piece so—ouais. Go, Finn.”

“I was going to say I’m on the piano and on the album it’s also piano. So. There.” He laughed and played a few chords. “Okay. It’s about one of the times when we almost got together, but we didn’t. We were at a bar that we weren’t old enough for.”

“And Finn got us stuck outside because they wouldn’t let us back in,” Logan said.

“Fool them once, and all that,” Finn cut in.

“It was freezing.” Logan’s voice, then a pause. “And I kissed him.”

“Again,” Finn said, laughing. “Anyway, spoilers. Here we go.”

There were a few seconds of dead air. Just Finn breathing. Leo pressed his headphones against his ears and kicked up his volume in time to hear Logan whisper something in French and Finn hush him.

I wanted you to meet me outside.

We’re not old enough to drink, no, not quite.

And leaving this bar means risking getting stuck out in the cold.

But I said ‘follow me’ you said ‘all right.’

Pulling up your hood against the frost bite.

And now that we’re here, there are too many things I want you to know.

But somehow I can tell tonight is not when you’ll be told

That just the look of you beneath that neon sign

Sure is something to behold…

It’s soft and blue…

Like me and you…

Maybe I’ll do this forever,

Only kiss me when it’s snowing.

Cause at least it isn’t never,

Though I can’t see where we’re going.

If only that light from that neon sign

Made you see me

Just as brightly

Oh God

Where’s my,

Neon,

Bar sign?

One that you can read.

Put it over me.

Bathe me in signals and the arrows pointing where I want to lead.

“Oh,” Leo said softly to himself—reacting to the lyrics, but also to Finn’s piano. It was a meandering, sad tune. As if even the music wasn’t sure what its next note would be. The song took them out of winter next and through to summer. Into humidity, and strings lights and patios and dorm rooms, sweltering with the door closed and no AC. A goodbye—was this them going to college? And it was Logan singing. Fall and desperate for something to last. Finn fumbled a little on the piano, cursed softly, and despite the next sad lyric, Leo could hear Logan smiling. Instead walked into my own past. You’re sitting on the bed and I’ve never felt less or more alone.

Leo listened to it four times. It was hypnotizing. Yes, he knew the story. He’d been given the precious task of telling the story—but they were telling it, too.

Meanwhile, the article was going through drafts and drafts. He’d fought hard to keep the section about Logan’s market in. His editor hadn’t seen the relevance, and maybe Leo’s relevance wasn’t entirely music-based, but those markets were in the songs. Maybe not in so many words, but Logan was as gentle as his voice could be when he was there. He stood still in that space, listening to the rhythm and thrum of the people around him.

Sending cover shoot to you without me :/ Leo typed out.

Finn replied almost instantly: I’ll refuse to pose until you arrive.

Then Logan: I will lock them out.

Ha, Leo wrote.

No Ha. It’s my house.

I’m at the office—in the final meeting for the article. He thought for a second, then smiled as he typed out. Everyone’s so happy for you.

You are coming to our first show, Logan typed out, and then a few seconds later, ? accompanied it, as if Finn had forced it out of him.

I’m coming to a show. Not sure when yet, Leo said. I’m on another project and have to finish it up before—

His eye caught on his phone’s clock. Jesus. He’d been in here for ten minutes texting like a teenager between classes. Before what? Before I can come back to you. Before I can come home, before I can come back because I miss you.

The thrill that came from being able to know he missed them because he knew them was strong.

—before I can make it, he finished. Have to go back to meeting now

Finn sent him five rows or pink hearts, Logan said, we miss you, and Leo sat back down in his meeting with a smile on his face that earned him weird looks. Cassie stared at him until someone asked her a question.

“Okay, so you’re gonna spill all your beans now.” Cassie jabbed him gently with her fork at lunch. “Like. Right now.”

“I don’t have beans.” Leo tilted his bowl to her. “This is my mama’s chicken salad recipe. Want some?”

Cassie groaned. “Just tell me why you’re grinning at your phone like an idiot every chance you get!”

“I’m not.”

“You are, you are.”

“I’m not, I’m not.”

“Yes, yeah, yeah, yeah.” Cassie grabbed onto his arm. “Tell me.”

“I’m excited for them,” Leo said. “That’s all. I’ve always looked up to them, and this is a big deal.

“So we are talking about Finn and Logan?”

Leo froze, caught. “Oh.”

It wasn’t his fault. They filled every little space of his mind. And if there was somewhere they couldn’t reach, they pressed up against that part, all warm and insistent.

Cassie threw her head back and squealed. “Leo. Tell me, tell me—”

“Oh-ho my God, they kissed me.”

Cassie stared at him, voice cutting off. Leo slapped his hands over his own mouth.

“You don’t know that,” Leo said quickly, just as Cassie made a soft, breathy sort of screeching sound.

“Wh-at?” she set her fork down with exaggerated precision. “What did you just say?”

Leo glanced around the courtyard they were in, but they were alone. In the shade, sun dappling down on them, and alone.

“They?” Cassie’s hand on his sleeve twisted the fabric. “They kissed you?”

He hadn’t meant to say a word, but the knowledge was like a fire inside of him. Being wanted like this. Being wanted by them.

Cassie started laughing, surprised and delighted. “Leo.”

“Yeah, they—apparently, um.” Leo shook his head. He didn’t even know how to say this. “They’ve been tracking my career since I just had the blog, and we were out by the fire pit and we almost—but we didn’t. And then we talked and I told them about Jack—sort of.”

Cassie’s blue eyes went wide at that, but she stayed quiet.

“And they sort of got why I was saying no.”

“You said no?”

“At first, at first.” Leo pushed his lunch away and dropped his voice. “Okay, okay, okay, sworn to secrecy.”

She squealed again through a shut mouth and hit him repeatedly in the arm.

“So, Nice,” Leo said. “Logan’s house.”

“Yeah, fuck you, by the way, meant nicely but with jealousy.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. But, so that night happened where they made the move a bit—”

“What does that even mean?”

“Mm, hard to explain. They were actually—” Leo’s laugh interrupted his words. “They were so bad at it.”

“Finn O’Hara is bad at making the moves?”

“Only when he means it, apparently.”

Cassie’s waved him on. “Okay, more, I need more.”

“So, we talked it out at the markets.”

“Ah. That’s why you like those sections so much. It’s all coming together.”

“Shut up.”

“And they kissed you there?”

“No,” Leo said. “Logan kissed me, just once, and um…” Leo bit back a grin. “And then later, Finn. Mostly because—I mean we said we’d take it slow and Logan was just keeping that promise, but I may have lost some resolve with Finn because—fuck, because.”

“He’s Finn O’Hara,” Cassie said. “I think ‘fuck, because’ is a fine reason.”

“And that’s when he said they want me to come back once I’m off their project. I mean, I know I have the follow up piece but…then I’ll be done.”

Cassie had her chin in her palm, the way she sometimes did when she was thinking. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

She sat up straight. “Both…of them?”

Leo opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. “Honestly, I haven’t been even…feeling strange about that. Is that weird?”

“No,” Cassie said, shaking her head. “I mean, not if it’s working. You’re not, like…jealous?”

“No,” Leo answered. It was the truth. “I know I probably should be.”

“They are basically high school sweethearts,” Cassie said. “Like, this article, the way you describe them…That’s soulmate shit right there. I don’t mean you don’t fit with them, I’m just…”

“I know where you’re coming from, but…” Leo sighed, smiling. “And I went there, too, but it’s just not like that. I like the way they are together. The way they treat each other. I like it as much as I like the way the are with me.”

“Holy shit,” Cassie said, then laughed. “Oh man.” She pushed her lunch aside in favor of pulling her laptop out of her bag. “Holy shit, holy shit, which show do you want? Which show, Le, I want to book that all out right fucking now.”

“It’s one night.”

“Yeah, well, it’s gonna be a hell of a night.”

Leo reached forward and grasped her hand. “Don’t even joke about that with me, I’m a wreck.”

“Yeah, well, you need all the help you can get. You were there for, what, three weeks, and you just kissed?”

“I am—”

“No, I commend you, cowboy, you just have eons more willpower than I do.” She raised her eyebrows at him. “Now, which show?”

Leo had been thinking about it. Of course he’d been thinking about it. He pictured them in different cities. Walking different streets. But, in the end, there was no question. Leo wanted to be where they had figured everything out. Maybe they’d figure out each other, too.

“Italy,” Leo said. “I want Italy.”

He was nervous to see them, that was for sure. Cassie always followed through on her work quickly, but Leo felt like he had blinked through being home before he was staring down at an empty suitcase again. Italy. Milan. It would be warm. He’d be there for a week. Something casual for the shows. Something nice for press events. Something comfortable for…mornings? He stared in his underwear drawer for too long. When was the last time he’d had to care what he looked like in his underwear, much less what his underwear looked like. That turned into staring at his t-shirts for too long, only to pick up his Heartthrob O’Hara t-shirtand fold it into his suitcase. Then he sat on the edge of his bed and googled Logan Tremblay t-shirt. They weren’t that good. Grainy photos just plastered on fabric. He typed in Night Swimming lyric t-shirt. There were hundreds, but Leo had fun scrolling. He’d probably added too many things to his cart when he finally found what he was looking for. The shirt was white with four words in forest green on it.

OH MY

GREEN EYES

Leo bit back a smile and ordered it to be delivered tomorrow.

The next night, he was cooking dinner and squinting at his iPad, when the recipe webpage disappeared in favor of an incoming call.

“Milan?” Logan asked when Leo answered.

“Yep,” Leo said. He leaned his elbows on the counter. “Is that okay?”

“That’s longer,” Logan said.

“I know,” Leo sighed. “But it’s when I’m in between projects and can write your follow up.”

Finn mirrored his position, squeezing into the frame beside Logan. “Why don’t you come here right now? I’ll write you a note, get you out of school. Photoshoot tomorrow, you can watch us kiss on camera.” Finn snuck a hand out to grab Logan’s chin when he wasn’t looking and turned his face to kiss him, even if Logan was smiling too much to make it last.

Leo leaned forward. “I…As tempting as that is...”

“I liked it when we were your job,” Finn shot back. “You were around all the time.”

“Oh yeah? Not me,” Leo said. Finn blinked, and Leo fought a smile because he’d got him. “Kissing subjects is…”

“Fun?” Finn said. “A right we may exclusively reserve?”

Logan looked over at him with a smile and Leo was tempted to take a screenshot. He didn’t know how that would go over. He’d never taken a photograph of them himself. He knew that spooked some celebrities. In the beginning, he’d thought he’d die if he offended them. He still felt like that a bit.

“Shut up,” Logan said to Finn. “We don’t want to be Leo’s subjects.”

“I was kidding.”

“Listen,” Leo said. “It’s a right you can reserve, I’d just prefer you do it as you and not as Night Swimming.”

“Deal,” Finn said. He put his palm over the camera briefly, as if they had shaken on it. “What are you doing?”

“I’m cooking dinner.” Leo said, mimicking Finn’s sing-song—and then realized he’d basically just sung in front of Finn and tried to forget about it. “What are you doing?”

“Waiting for you to come back,” Logan said.

Leo arched a brow. “To cook you dinner?”

“Non,” Logan laughed. He rested his chin on a palm, and Leo got basically an entire screen full of those green eyes looking over—him, he realized. Logan’s gaze darted over his face like he could do it for hours. “Other things.”

Heat washed over him, and Leo bit his lip. “Hmm…Play me more songs?”

“Can do, Sunshine,” Finn said.

They kept him company while he finished cleaning up, taking him through the packet they’d been sent concerning their photoshoot tomorrow.

“We’re doing it down by the sea,” Finn said. He was lounging on the couch, Logan at his feet holding a cup of tea. “And some house shots.” He tapped the leather couch. “Probably right here. Or the kitchen…Well, if it’s the kitchen, I know what I’ll be thinking about.”

Leo laughed as he shut his dishwasher. “Yeah, that kitchen gets a lot of action when I’m there.”

“Not when I’m there,” Logan said.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Finn said, running his fingers through Logan’s hair. “We’ve got a pretty good track record in Italy, don’t we?”

Leo didn’t sleep much that night. He usually didn’t before a flight. Something about the anticipation. Not that this was bad anticipation. He let himself drift and think, rather than fall and worry. Still awake, but lighter. The story was out of his hands now, gone to turn into paper and ink. He would write his follow up, but then…

Just three people, Finn had said. Just three people.

On his nightstand, his phone lit up his dark ceiling. Leo turned his head. There weren’t many people who could get through his Do Not Disturb. Part of him got nervous, wondering if something was wrong, and he propped himself up on an elbow quickly, pulling the phone off its charger.

you’re awake

Three words, soft as a whisper. From Logan. Just Logan.

A moment later came the ?

Leo rolled onto his back, grinning.

are you spying on me somehow?

Finn said you have trouble sleeping, came the reply.

I do sometimes, Leo sent. And then, do you not like question marks or something?

I just thought I was right

Leo laughed out loud, all to himself.

well, I am awake.

are you okay? Logan asked.

Yeah. Just thinking.

A bit of a pause, just long enough to make Leo bite his lip.

about what?

Leo typed his reply out slowly, carefully. Savoring getting to say these words. Getting more than one kiss from you.

An immediate reply. maybe I won’t ruin it this time

Leo smiled. I think the last thing you did was ruin it.

God. Smiley faces from Logan Tremblay.

go to sleep so you get here faster, Logan wrote. or just get here now.

Job—remember?

Leo laughed again. I do have a surprise for you when I get there.

what is it? Logan asked immediately.

“Classic,” Leo whispered to himself, but just sent a smiley in return. Then, after a moment’s thought—

goodnight, green eyes

The article, when it came out, was hot as lightning. The photographs were gorgeous. Natural. They turned into each other like puzzle pieces, dressed in the muted, gentle browns of the house, and then the bright jewels of green and blue. But it was the opening show that came after it that caused the storm.

Leo didn’t get a single bit of work done—but neither did Cassie, so it was fine. He had never watched a grainy live stream closer and made Cassie go out and get him lunch so he didn’t have to get up. He brought his phone to the bathroom with him. He’d never refreshed Twitter so many times to find new photographs and videos. Finn, getting a pride flag thrown up to him at one point. The moments when they shared the microphone now sometimes ended in a kiss. A kiss. Leo was laughing and choked up all at once. Logan’s hat said rouge.

“Is there a reason you didn’t choose that show?” Cassie asked.

He’d thought about it. Being there. He could have gotten out of work—not in a I’m sort of kind of dating them and suddenly I miss them every second please let me go way but in a…this is important for the follow up way. But. He hadn’t. Somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to.

“This is a long time coming for them,” Leo said carefully, and found it true. “This is something they thought they’d never have. It’s theirs. And I wanted them to have it more than anything.”

Cassie’s eyes softened. She’d wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. “They better know how lucky they are if they’re getting you.”

Leo smiled and tilted their heads together, turning back to the show.

“Well, fuck,” Finn’s voice echoed through the stadium as he sat down at the piano. “You guys know what song’s coming by now, I guess.”

Rooftop, Leo thought, and shushed Cassie so harshly that she rolled her eyes and knocked him lightly on the shoulder.

Logan was still on stage, though, and getting up from behind his set. Leo’s heart leapt right into his throat.

“Something’s happening,” Leo said. “Something’s happening.”

“You shush,” Cassie said.

“Or at least you thought you did,” Finn said, then leaned back and laughed, the microphone barely catching it over the answering cheers. Logan crossed the stage, taking his time. Finn made room for him on the piano bench seat and Logan slotted perfectly against his side.

“No, look,” Finn played a few chords. “Rooftop has a special place in my heart, but it’s no part of tonight. Tonight…” He looked at Logan. “Tonight how about a little duet, Tremblay?”

Leo knew these chords. He loved these chords. And now, he could think of the lyrics that were about to come. They were probably some of the first words written about both of them letting themselves have each other…It was perfect. The crowd knew the song, too, and they were manic when Logan started playing the piano’s lower register, almost like a bass to Finn’s higher, softer melody.

A crew member brought out a second microphone and fixed it over the piano. Logan thanked him with a nod, and leaned in.

“You should have seen Finn trying to teach me piano,” his voice echoed.

Leo leaned closer to the screen. “Oh my God.”

Cassie sorted. “You’re so smitten.”

“They’re playing Keep.”

“Yes, I know, I am a fan, too!”

I see you in the morning staring out over the waves.

I find I don’t need my instincts, never thought I’d see the day.

I could just roll over, yeah, I could close my eyes,

Cause I don’t have to grasp at glimpses, no, I’ve got my whole life.

I’ll tell anyone who asks,

“Harmony, harmony,” Cassie said, imitating Leo’s accent.

Leo wrapped an arm around her shoulders and put his palm over her mouth. But she was right. The harmony, Logan joining in on the chorus, was exquisite.

I’ll show anyone who wants to see.

Like sea glass, or pebbles found on the beach.

Oh God, look at what I get to keep.

I’ll hold it as long as my breath lasts.

I’ll say it in all the languages they speak.

Like histories or songs sung while out at sea,

Hey Sunshine, what do you say you keep me?

Cassie made a strangled noise before Leo could. She pulled Leo’s hand away from her mouth.

“Sunshine? He just—They just changed the lyrics,” Cassie said. She got her arms around Leo’s waist and shrieked, making everyone in the office look at them. “He changed the lyrics.”

Leo was going to melt into his keyboard. Or cry? No. He was going to love them.

“I see you in the kitchen just before we go to sleep—” Finn gave his head a little, sharp shake, smiling, and when he looked up, Leo saw that he was crying, unable to sing through it. The crowd filled in. I find I don’t need my instincts, you are mine to keep.

Leo touched his lips lightly. Leo wouldn’t forget that sound, the stadium singing for them like that, even through a video. Not ever. He wouldn’t forget the feeling of knowing how much Finn and Logan deserved it. And how much he wanted them to have this. And how sweet is was when Logan played the last note, Finn wrapping an arm around him and pressing a lingering kiss to his temple, and Logan catching Finn’s tears with a gentle hand.

Finn found one of the stadium cameras, touched a hand to his mouth, and held it out.

Oh God, Leo was going to really love them.

Leo could feel the change in the air the moment he stepped of his airplane. Humid, but light. He rolled up the sleeves of his button-down and put his sunglasses on as he stepped into the warm afternoon. He was a little groggy from his flight, but not too bad. He was hungry, though, and in desperate need of a coffee—which he was most certainly in the right place for.

“Mr. Knut?”

Leo turned, pulling his suitcase up to his side. A man was standing there, sleek in a light gray suit and a driver’s cap. He had a neatly tripped gray beard, kind eyes, and a light British accent.

“Yes?” Leo said. “Oh, are you—”

“Mr. Tremblay’s driver, yes. Ralph, it’s a pleasure.” Ralph motioned towards his suitcase. “Might I take care of that for you, sir, on the way to the car?”

“Oh, no, that’s all right,” Leo said. “But thank you. It’s nice enough of him to send you to get me. Very kind.”

“Yes, he was very keen. This way, sir.”

Leo followed him the short distance to the car park, remarking on the weather just because he wasn’t used to being called sir. Ralph was kind about it, offering small talk right back. The car was shiny and black, the windows so dark and opaque that Leo guessed that was why Logan used it. He stored his suitcase and laptop bag and stuttered around Ralph opening his door for him.

“Oh, wow—thanks so much.”

“Of course, sir.”

Leo slid into the smooth, leather seat. The whole car smelled new. There was a water bottle waiting for him in the door side pocket, nestled into a tortoise shell cup holder. Leo took his sunglasses off just as the door shut—

And then someone was grabbing onto his shirt and tugging. An insistent, warm mouth covered his, swallowing Leo’s sound of surprise.

Logan. The warm, pine scent of him. The feeling of canvas when Leo made to touch his hair. The weight of him swinging a leg over Leo’s lap. Callouses on his hands where they smoothed up Leo’s neck.

“Hello,” Leo gasped. “Fuck.”

“Hi.” Logan barely said the word before he was kissing him again. Leo had to let his head rest back against the seat he was so dizzy with it. His mouth probably tasted sour, he was probably sweaty, maybe he even smelled from the plane, but Logan didn’t seem to care.

“Where’s—”

“Sound check,” Logan gasped, and then he had Leo’s bottom lip gently between his teeth, pulling and letting go. “He’ll be at the hotel by the time we get there.”

“You don’t need—your sound checked?”

“I need this.”

From his place on Leo’s lap, Logan put a hand on the ceiling. For a moment, Leo wondered what the hell he was in for in the back of this car, but Logan’s fingers found a button that he pushed and up a partition between them and Ralph began to rise.

“Hotel, sir?” Ralph asked as the sheet rose.

“Merci,” Logan confirmed, and then the partition cut them off in a muffled, tinted-window bubble of their own making and Logan’s hungry green eyes were all Leo was left with.

Their breathing sounded loud to Leo’s ears. He got his first good look at Logan. White t-shirt, black cotton shorts. Green hat, backwards. Tan, gorgeous, just like Leo remembered him, but even more real. A small scratch on his cheek from somewhere. He’d cut himself shaving on his chin, a little red dot. Leo reached up and took off his hat, letting his bangs fall forward in their gentle waves. They were pretty light from all the sunshine.

“Can he…” Leo whispered. “Can Ralph hear us?”

Slowly, Logan shook his head.

Leo reached up and tucked his fingers through Logan’s hair. He could have lived off of the way Logan’s eyes slipped closed. “How long is the drive?”

“Thirty minutes.”

“Hm.”

Logan’s smile looked like one of his soft, lulling songs. “What does that mean?”

Leo didn’t answer. He’d been taken by surprise, but that was fading now. All it left behind was want and relief. For now, he was done with the distance and the florescent lights of his office. He was back in Logan’s arms.

Thirty minutes felt like five. Logan’s soft sounds filled him right up as Leo kissed his neck—that was when Ralph’s gentle knock from the driver’s seat came. Leo broke off, startled. His mouth felt puffy—and good. Logan’s warm weight felt like the only thing holding him together.

“Ouais,” Logan called. “One moment.”

As Logan leaned their foreheads together, the world filtered back in. Leo became aware of the sound of a crowd outside, and had to laugh.

“Are we about to be photographed?”

“Probably a little,” Logan said. “It’s okay. You wouldn’t believe how many times Finn and I have had this happen.”

“What, got a little heavy in the car?”

Logan grinned, ducking to kiss Leo again. “Mhm.”

“That’s…” Really hot.

Logan slid off his lap, back to his side. They both spent a moment trying to pull themselves together. Logan would have to get out first, which made Leo feel a little better.

“They’ll bring your bags to the room,” Logan said. He slipped on a pair of sunglasses. “Ready?”

Hands banged against the windows, making Leo jump. There were some chants of Finn’s name, along with Logan’s, and Leo realized they didn’t know who was in the car. “I—yeah.” The room. “I think so.”

Logan considered him for a moment, then took off his own hat and placed it, bill forward, on Leo’s head.

“Oh,” Leo said. “Do I look—”

“You look how I want you to look. Merde, I want Finn to see you.” Logan grinned. “But it may be a bit much for a photo.”

Leo reached up and touched the hat. It was green and had said the word LOVE on it. That was a story Leo wanted to write. Logan could say a lot with his hats. There were whole twitter accounts dedicated to the way he hinted at future songs or albums with what was on his hat.

LOVE. Leo was wearing the word love.

“I know I shouldn’t hold your hand quite yet,” Logan began, trailing off.

Leo laughed. “That would spark some wild rumors.”

Logan looked at him over the rim of his glasses, the shadow making his green eyes bright. “Stay close to me, okay?” He popped the car door and the sound of the crowd doubled, frenzied, screaming, yearning. “Stay close.”

Leo could hear his own heartbeat. He could feel it in his throat. He did want to hold Logan’s hand. “I will.”

And Leo experienced the cameras and fans from an entirely different view. He’d followed Finn and Logan around. He’d never walked with them, not like this. Not side by side in a way that signaled to everyone he was with them.

He stuck close to Logan’s back, as promised. He caught some curious looks, felt phone cameras trained on him. The sun was bright and he was very glad for Logan’s hat. He tried to take it in, if for nothing further than that this was the biggest crowd he’d ever followed a star through from this close, but it was over in a flash. They were in a cool hotel lobby, marble and stone, and a smiling woman, motioning them to the elevator. Logan’s two security guards got in with them.

The sudden silence was loud. Logan took his sunglasses off, casually folding them into his shirt and leaning back against the wall as they rose.

“Here we go, Tremz,” one of the guards said, fist bumping Logan as he passed him through the open doors. “See you tonight. Remind Finn the dinner res he asked for is at eight-thirty.”

“Thanks, Paul.” Logan looked back from the hallway. “Leo?”

“Sorry,” Leo said and strode forward. “Thanks—Thanks, Paul.”

Paul was a massive guy, but when he smiled he looked like a teddy bear. “You got it, man.”

There was only one door on this hallway, right in front of them with a large brass knocker, and no sooner had the elevator shut than did it swing open to reveal Finn—sweaty, in a soft looking gray t-shirt and running shorts, and grinning.

“Jesus,” Logan said. “You scared me.”

“I heard the ding,” Finn said cheerfully.

He was looking right at Leo. Leo drew Logan’s hat off, trying to catch his breath.

“There were crowds,” Logan said, as if explaining.

“Yeah,” Leo said. “Are you guys famous or something?”

Finn ignored the joke. He walked right up to Leo, wrapped him up in his arms, and held on tight. Leo had maybe been expecting a kiss—probably something a tad more obvious than Logan’s sneak-attack. But the hug was better. Finn was warm. He smelled like sweat and sunscreen from being on stage.

“Hi,” Finn whispered in his ear. He pulled back, holding Leo’s cheek briefly, then gently tweaked a curl of Leo’s blond hair. “Hi, Sunshine.”

Leo covered Finn’s hand, turning his mouth against it. “Hi.”

“Come here,” Finn said, laughing. “Come in.”

“Ouais.” Logan put a hand low on Leo’s back, guiding him through the suite door. “Where’s my surprise?”

“What surprise?” Finn asked as the door shut behind them. Sure enough, Leo’s bags were waiting there, neatly side-by-side near the small kitchen.

“Not till later,” Leo said.

Logan narrowed his eyes. “How later?”

“Tomorrow later.”

Logan huffed.

Finn came up behind him, pressing a small cup into his hand. Espresso.

“Oh, how did you know?” Leo sipped it down easily. Hot and slightly sweet with sugar.

“You’re in Italy,” Finn said. Next he was wrapping an arm around Leo’s waist. “You understand that if it’s a physical surprise, he’s going to dig through your luggage?”

Leo toyed with his delicate espresso cup.“Not if I say not to.”

Finn’s chin hooked over his shoulder. Leo could feel his laugh against his skin. His strong chest against his back. His hips— “You think he’ll listen to you?”

They both regarded Logan, who was still glaring at them—and glancing at Leo’s suitcase.

“I think he will.”

“Hm,” Finn said, and Leo felt a kiss land on his neck. “I think you’re right.” Another kiss to the exact same spot. Over a mark Logan had made? “I see someone has already gotten to you.”

“I was accosted in the car,” Leo said.

“Classic.”

Logan just rolled his eyes and began dragging Leo’s suitcase into another room.

By that night, the fans who didn’t read up on their music stories had already figured out who he was. Leo Knut—last seen on the road writing the coming out piece on Night Swimming. Sure enough, Twitter was full of wearing Lo’s hat wearing Lo’s hat???

“Ooh, you’re so undercover,” Finn commented when he glimpsed Leo’s phone once they were back in the car, speeding through the night on the way to dinner. “They don’t know what’s coming for them.”

Leo clicked his phone off even as Cassie texted nice hat. He looked at Logan, at a purplish bruise Leo had left on his neck. “No, they really don’t.”

Logan covered the mark with his palm and grinned out the window. Leo laughed, looking, too, then paused.

“Hey, are we leaving the city?”

“Yep,” Finn said.

“Where?” Logan asked.

Finn shrugged exaggeratedly. He’d changed into a dark blue button down, light slacks, and pretty brown leather shoes that Leo badly wanted a pair of. He’d pushed a dark green button down towards Logan, dark trousers, and white, pristine sneakers. He’d taken one look at Leo and told him he was perfect, but Leo had showered and changed anyway. Dusty red shirt. He’d followed Finn’s lead and left the collar loose.

Logan kicked at Finn from his seat across from the both of them. Finn just stuck his tongue out and took Leo’s hand across the console between them. Leo stared at it for a moment. Finn’s pale fingers that would be playing a guitar to thousands of people tomorrow were right there wrapped up in his own.

“Where?” Logan insisted.

“Jesus, Lo, can neither of us try and surprise you? I know you found all your presents as a kid, but you’re not finding the ones I give you.” Finn dropped a wink. “I’ll give it to you when I decide.”

Apparently where was a castle. Literally a castle. Soft lights flooded up the old stones to reveal turrets and archways. A man in a tuxedo was waiting for them at the entrance. They were given champagne in thin, airy glasses and leave to roam the lit gardens before their dinner was served. The air was mild, but the feeling of Finn and Logan at his shoulders was better. Finn had something to say about every flower, every piece of architecture, as if he had studied up for this night. They ate dinner under the stars, watching fireflies dart through the greenery.

It wasn’t until they had been served an array of desserts and left truly alone that Leo thought to bring up the article and how they were doing—it was different to ask without a screen between them.

“We’re so good,” Finn said. He looked at Logan, who nodded. Finn wrapped an arm around Logan’s chair, scooting it closer to his. Leo watched him lean into him. His brown eyes flickered to Leo even as his lips brushed Logan’s skin. “Lo?”

“Ouais, I…” Logan gave up on words and tucked his face into Finn’s neck, laughing.

Leo leaned back in his chair, glad the table let him stretch his still plane-cramped legs out under the table. “It’s so nice to see you up there. Really. I can’t wait for tomorrow. You just look so…free.”

“We feel free,” Finn said. “And it’s thanks to you.” He held out a hand across the linen tablecloth and, after a moment, Leo took it. “How are you, Le?”

Leo let out a slow breath, watching the way Finn’s thumb tracked across his knuckles. “I’m…” He laughed a little. “That’s quite a question. Really quite a question.”

Logan laughed, and when Leo realized he was laughing at him, he threw a sugar coated almond at him in a neat arc across the table—which lost all its effect when Logan caught it in his mouth.

“Non, seriously.” Logan leaned more into Finn’s side. “Leo?”

Leo looked around them. They both had a knack for finding these slices of paradise. Though, lately it had been feeling like any where they were was heaven, even his own kitchen.

“Being on tour with you was wonderful,” Leo answered. “And Nice was, of course, perfect. So beautiful…God, this is beautiful.”

“Why am I sensing a but?” Finn asked, brows drawn together. Logan looked downright nervous.

Leo shook his head, bringing his other hand to hold Finn’s as well. “No. Well, yes, but not like that.”

They both looked at him expectantly. Patiently.

“You’ve been sweet in waiting for me. And honest about wanting me.”

“We fumbled and recovered,” Finn said.

“We do want you,” Logan said earnestly.

“Well, I…I hope so,” Leo said softly. Finn’s hand tightened around his.

“Yeah?” Finn whispered.

Leo nodded. Logan couldn’t quite reach with the angle, but he reached for Leo, too, hand on Finn’s wrist.

“It’s been—what? A week and a half of video calls? You know all these glorious places are amazing, but when we’re just sitting around…I mean, when we’re just talking… Or you’re watching me wash dishes, do laundry. And I start to feel like…”

He felt the words well in his throat like tears as he looked between them. He understood Cassie’s hesitation. He understood his own hesitation. He’d been nervous that he’d come back and something would have changed. Like adrenaline leaving the system. But it hadn’t.

“I’ve never not known how to be without someone before,” Leo said. “But you make me feel like I don’t remember how to be alone.”

Finn’s smile was tearful and Leo realized he felt a little like that, too, even as Finn leaned forward and kissed him. It dissolved into a laugh, into kiss to his cheek. A piece of silverware clattered to the ground as Finn tugged Leo’s chair closer and hugged him as best he could.

“Rouge, you’re pulling the table cloth, the table—” Logan’s voice came, laughing. Leo heard his chair scoot back and then there was another pair of arms around Leo’s neck, Logan leaning over the back of his chair. He managed a sloppy kiss to Leo’s mouth, despite the angle.

Leo closed his eyes and held on. He waited for Finn to make him laugh. Or Logan to say something in French. But they stayed quiet, surprising him. He peeked one eye open, only to see that Finn, whose forehead was pressed against Leo’s temple, had his eyes closed, too. Leo didn’t dare move him to try and get at Logan, but the content sigh he felt against his neck was enough to go on for him. Wind whistled through the trees around them, bring the smell of some sweet flower. Leo closed his eyes again and leaned back into Logan’s shoulder and Finn’s arm. It was like a blanket, their quiet. They’d been more serene than he’d expected from the beginning—puzzles, dinner, reading, morning runs. This was something deeper. It was as if something unhappy had finally been able to settle for them, too. The questions were still there. How will this work? What will people think? But they were muted and far off.

They looked up at footsteps on the patio, only to find a surprised waiter holding a pitcher of water.

“Ah,” the waiter said. “Pardon me. Uh…”

“Hi,” Finn said, only lifting his head. “Yeah, we’ll take the check.”

They laughed about it on the car ride home, the waiter’s face. Speeding through dark hills, and then streets still filled with chatter and light. Leo watched out the window as they slowed in narrower streets. It gave him a glimpses of passing faces. Laughing, eating, kissing.

Finn’s hand pressed to his thigh. “Are you composing sentences right now? I think you are.”

Leo looked over at him. “Maybe. And you?”

“I’ve been watching you two write in your heads for the last ten minutes,” Logan said. He’d stretched his legs out so their feet slotted together in the car space between them.

“Well, no one got on my lap, I had to do something to pass the time,” Leo said, squeezing one of Logan’s ankles between his own.

Logan just looked at him with bright eyes. “I don’t want to have to stop.”

Leo let his head fall back against the seat and he put his hand over Finn’s. “You just deal with that every day?”

“All day,” Finn said. “You don’t even want to know the things he says to me before we go on stage.” Finn laughed and scooted over in his seat, pressing right up against Leo’s side. “Actually, you probably do.”

No one was waiting at the hotel this time. There were no bright flashes to catch what Leo was sure was an intense flush on his cheeks. They stayed close in the elevator, their security shaking their heads at how giddy they probably sounded—all that content silence had bubbled into talking over each other and far too loud laughter. Finn fumbled a little with the hotel key, but then they were inside the suite and met with a blast of AC. Finn went to turn it down, but Logan got his hands on Leo’s waist and pulled until Leo had him pinned right up against the side of the entrance hall.

“This is how I first met you,” Leo said, staring down at him. He traced a hand under Logan’s jaw and watched the way he bared his neck for more. “I was so surprised. And you were so beautiful. And also you literally did not stop making out with Finn which was, like, okay then.”

Finn’s laugh reached them. “I asked him that after you left. I was like, how long was he standing there actually? And he wouldn’t tell me.”

“What’d you want, Lo?” Leo whispered, leaning down to kiss him softly. “Me to walk in ready to go right then?”

“Non, I wanted to see if you thought I was hot,” Logan said, then laughed as Leo pulled back to follow Finn’s voice into the living room. He called after him, “And you do!”

Finn had his dress shirt half unbuttoned and his belt in one hand, frowning at something on his phone.

“You okay there difficult rock star?” Leo asked, trying not to stare at his pale chest against the blush color.

Finn looked up, all big brown eyes suddenly—how did he do that? Switch between unbearably hot to unbearably sweet in two seconds—and smiled. “Oh. This isn’t what it looks like.” He gestured to himself with his belt. “I just wanted to change. And yeah, just tomorrow’s call times.”

Call times. Show tomorrow. Leo took a breath. Right. What time was it? Midnight? One? Leo knew they should sleep. He’d seen them on the nights before shows many times now. Logan drank mint tea. Finn read. Unless they had friends at the shows, or family, they tried to get as much sleep as they could. Logan slept in as much as he could. Finn seemed incapable of sleeping in, but he went for a run and he ordered up a big breakfast. God, Leo wanted to make them breakfast again. He wanted the way they sat with him, looked at him, made him coffee.

Leo nodded. He emptied his pockets, setting his phone and wallet on a side table. “I hope it’s not too early? I know your routines the night before a show and this isn’t it. It’s early for me, technically. But it’s late for you.”

Leo’s eyes drew down Finn’s body again. The half-untucked shirt. He was pretty sure those socks he was wearing were the ones advertised on TV offering arch support. Why, why was that hot right now? It was. And maybe Leo wanted the way Finn looked right now to be exactly what it looked like. What then?

Finn was quiet, glancing at Logan as he came into the room and sat on the back of the couch to look at Leo. Finn drew in a slow breath, stretching his arms up and behind his head, so that when he spoke his voice came out tensed like his muscles—which Leo could see more of now, the sharp cut just above his waistline. “I mean, you could…” He grinned, dropping his arms and relaxing. “We could get you on the right time zone.”

Leo bit at the inside of his cheek. That wasn’t exactly the line he’d heard in Finn’s voice during all of his laundry-folding day dreams, but it was so very Finn that it was better.

“What did your team think when you said I’d be staying with you?” Leo glanced up around the room. “I mean, in the same…” Bedroom? “Suite.”

“They’re our team for a reason,” Finn said. “They know what’s their business, and what’s ours.”

Leo raised an eyebrow. “And my being a reporter isn’t their business? I bet at least a few people would disagree with that.”

“You’re not the kind of reporter they worry about,” Logan said. “Unless you suddenly revealed a long-range camera in your suitcase.” He tilted his head teasingly. “That’s not the surprise, is it?”

“No,” Leo laughed. “Definitely not the surprise.”

“And just to be clear,” Finn said. “Because looks like we’re not great on being clear—”

“Room, not suite,” Logan cut in.

“Jeez, way to grab my punchline and yank it out from beneath my feet.” Finn strode closer and put his hand on Logan’s shoulder. “But yes. We were hoping…I mean, there is another room. Two other, in fact, for you to choose from.” He tilted his head. “But I was hoping just your suitcase would be staying there.”

“We,” Logan said, rising from his seat.

“We were hoping.”

Logan stood in front of Leo. He held out his hands palm up, and Leo put his palms into them. Logan gave a gentle tug. When Leo hesitated, worrying the inside of his cheek, it took about half a second for concern to flicker over Logan’s face.

“Le?” he asked gently. “What…What did I do?”

“No, no, no,” Leo said. “Nothing. I want that. I really, really want that. I just…” Leo sighed, cursing himself. The nerves he’d felt while packing sprung back at him. Look at them. Look at them.

“It’s been a while for me,” Leo said softly. “I mean—I mean a while. And you two know each other—so well. I just don’t want…to, like, disappoint, or…”

“Non,” Logan said.

“You couldn’t,” Finn added. “Leo, you couldn’t disappoint us. Like, ever.”

Leo knew that. He did. He even believed it. It didn’t stop the idea that he would from making him want to crawl under the covers and hide.

“I’m looking at two people who know each other inside and out,” Leo said. “And I love that about you two. But—yeah. That’s all.”

Finn and Logan looked at each other. Leo didn’t mind the silent communication ability. He even liked it. It was sweet. In his dreams, he got that ability with them, too. One day.

Finn stepped forward. It wasn’t the stage walk. It was just him. Even in the button-down that Leo now knew to be the softest linen, it was just him. Not all the photos Leo had seen of fans catching him on the street—sunglasses, t-shirt, notebook or coffee…smiling, talking with them, and uncapping Sharpies with his teeth. Leo had looked at the photos from that particular day a lot. A lot. Summer in New York, headed to the recording studio, stooping so a girl could slip a necklace she had made him over his head.

“Okay.” Finn smiled softly. “There’s one thing we can do no matter what. It’s late. We can just get ready for bed and…and then whatever you want.”

Logan nodded. “Whatever you want.”

“We do know each other through and through,” Finn said. He tucked a stray curl behind Leo’s ear, but Leo felt it spring back into place. “Which is why we know how much we want you here.”

Leo shook his head, putting a hand against Finn’s chest. “You don’t have to convince me. I’m just…” Leo looked to Logan. “I…This is like a dream? A really good dream.”

“Leo.” Finn’s voice was overly serious, but Leo caught the spark in his eye. “Were we your celebrity crushes or something?”

Leo’s laugh surprised him, head falling back. “Finn.”

“Aw,” Finn wrapped his arms around Leo’s waist. “I embarrassed him. Look, Lo, we were his celebrity crush.”

“First, I meant because you’re so sweet. And second, I’m pretty sure you could attempt world domination with the number of people who would name you if asked who their crush is,” Leo said.

“Maybe,” Finn replied. “But I only care about one.”

It was the little things, first. Logan left small pools of water all around the sink when he washed his face. He went to Leo’s luggage, and Leo only had time to call out a warning don’t before Logan was pulling out a t-shirt with a delighted laugh. Thankfully, it wasn’t his surprise one…But it was Finn’s.

Leo was brushing his teeth next to Finn O’Hara in Italy, and Logan Tremblay was holding up his HEARTTHROB O’HARA t-shirt with a grin on his face that said it all.

“That was also a surprise,” Leo said around his toothpaste. He groaned, and put a hand over Finn’s delighted eyes as passed him to go rinse his mouth.

When he leaned up from the faucet, Finn was there, rinsing beside him. Leo cleared his throat, laughing a little under the feeling of Finn’s gaze. He tried to escape, honestly he had no idea what to say, but two hands caught his hips and a hard, warm chest met Leo’s back.

They looked at each other in the mirror. The lights were soft and dim, bringing out each of Finn’s freckles. Leo put his hand over where Finn’s rested low on his stomach.

“I’m embarrassed,” Leo said, smiling down at the sink. “It’s stupid, right?”

With a slight pressure to his hip, Finn turned Leo around. Leo rested back against the counter’s edge, and Finn nudged his way to stand between his thighs. He carded Leo’s hair back from his face, the ends damp from washing his face.

“Nothing about you could ever be stupid,” Finn said.

Leo traced the N of his NASA t-shirt, then one of the trails on a shooting star. “You probably see people in that shirt all the time. Probably have signed that shirt a million times.” Leo closed his eyes. “Shit. I’d say I’m not some crazy fan, but younger me was definitely a crazy fan.” He looked up at Finn. “But you know all about crazy fans.”

Finn smiled a little. He barely had to tilt his chin forward at all to brush their mouths together. “I do know a little about that.”

“So maybe the shirt doesn’t even matter?” Leo asked hopefully. Finn’s brown eyes were staring at his mouth—that still had toothpaste on it maybe?

“Everything about you matters,” Finn said, and kissed him.

It brought back the rush of the ocean. The heat of the sun, sitting against those cliffs when Leo had been so confused, so in want. He knew how to hold himself together. God, if there was one thing he was so very good at in this world, it was holding himself together.

“Maybe I’m your crazy fan,” Finn whispered. “I’ve been stalking your writing for long enough.”

Leo laughed. “Mm, that’s true.” He reached up for Finn’s shoulders, pulling him closer.

He didn’t want to hold himself together anymore. He didn’t want to hold back. Nothing he knew even compared to this. Not the fame, not the novelty. This. Worn out t-shirts and getting to have a perfect fit in a legendary love like theirs. These were new muscles, letting himself go, and he’d been straining them with these two. They felt stronger now.

The band of his pajama pants was wet from being pressed back into Logan’s puddles. Finn tasted minty, and with him standing between Leo’s thighs like this, Leo got to tilt his head up into the kiss.

“How do I look?”

They broke apart to see Logan standing in the bathroom doorway. He wore a soft looking pair of gray boxers, and his chest and arms filled out Leo’s t-shirt in a way Leo had never, would never have even thought, to imagine.

While Leo sat there staring, Finn laughed. “That thing looks like it’s about to fall to pieces.”

He wasn’t wrong. There was a hole near the collar, the letters were faded at the edges. But it was so damn soft from years of being washed that Leo couldn’t bare to part with it. He reached up and pushed his fingers through Finn’s hair. That gorgeous red hair. Maybe there was so much more he couldn’t part with now.

“Ouais, me too,” Logan said. Leo didn’t know what he was talking about until he walked forward and reached up for Finn’s hair, completely messing it up. “Everyone’s obsessed with it, but how can you not be?”

Leo laughed as Finn squinted one eye shut but let them have their fun. It was soft and thick, the sorter strands at the sides feathering through Leo’s fingers like velvet.

Finn put a hand on Logan’s chest, tapping over the letters of Leo’s t-shirt. “I always guessed that was why everything they put my name in is red, too.”

“Marketing?” Leo said.

“Yeah.” Finn sighed, shrugged, then smiled. “Le, that shirt really is about to fall apart.”

“I…wear it a lot.”

“Oh yeah? All around the city with my name on your heart?”

Leo bit his lip. It was more than that. It was what he wore when he was sad, or had had a bad day. When he was sick, or exhausted, or angry.

And then, over the past month, that comfort had shifted to them. A bad day at work ended with four hour FaceTimes until Leo was too sleepy to talk anymore and Finn’s soft voice. Goodnight, Sunshine. And when he couldn’t sleep, somehow Logan always knew. The soft light of his phone lighting up his bedroom from his nightstand and never letting him feel alone or sinking or like he would never sleep again.

“Le?” Finn asked softly. His hair was a mess from their hands. His eyes were pure syrup again, asking, checking, worried—loving?

“Hi,” Leo said. “Sorry, hi.” He put a hand on Finn’s cheek and looked at Logan.

Logan tilted his head. “What are you writing right now, Soleil?”

Leo closed his eyes briefly at the nickname, leaning his head back to bask in it. “Dialogue, I guess.”

“Ouais,” Logan said, wrapping an arm around Leo’s waist. It completed the circle of the three of them. “Of?”

“How to ask you to take me to bed,” Leo whispered.

“Yes,” Finn breathed, and then Leo was being kissed.

He’d written a lot of words in his life. It was almost funny to be asked what he was writing right then. He wasn’t even sure this was something that could be written. What did kiss have on what Finn gave him? It was just what Leo remembered. The heated energy from that middle of the night kiss in Nice, only tripled.

“Hey.” Logan’s voice was low. Leo felt fingers tighten in his hair and he gasped, breaking Finn’s kiss long enough to be pulled to another mouth. The ocean and the shade. The shade and the ocean. Finn’s laugh echoed against the bathroom tiles. He was watching them. He had a hand on Leo’s back, and probably Logan’s, and let them kiss.

No, Leo couldn’t have written this down. Logan, pulling him towards the bedroom. Finn flicking off the bathroom light and leaving them in the yellow-pink glow of a reading lamp and the moon.

“I’d raise the sun if I could,” he said. He caught Leo up around the waist again. “Just because it’s dark in here doesn’t mean I want it to be.”

“Finn.” It sounded pleading, but Leo hadn’t meant it that way. Not stop. Not more. Just… “Have some compassion for how full my heart can be right now, O’Hara.”

And then Leo took that famous NASA t-shirt right off of him. The stars and the comet trails, they were still there. Finn’s torso was its own sky map and Leo, wondering what Finn liked, bent to kiss a trail of his own along one thin collarbone.

What words existed for the feeling of Finn chest rising and falling against his mouth.

What words could Leo have used to describe the smile Logan gave him as he let Leo pull his t-shirt off of him next? All Leo could comprehend was the sheer strength of his arms and the dark trail of hair that led down into his boxers.

There were no hesitations, like Leo had thought there would be. The pauses were woven in, just turns and folds and lifts like pages. Yes? This? Grins and breaths and—Logan’s sounds. Logan. Logan knew what he wanted. Finn knew what Logan wanted. Leo, very quickly, knew what Logan wanted and shared a slightly dazed grin with Finn about it. He got to watch Finn’s practiced fingers, and see how much Finn enjoyed giving Logan everything he could possibly desire. It was as sweet as it was unbearably hot. Finn looked so pale against Logan’s tanned skin. Marble. That was a word Leo had used before, but it applied. Jesus Christ, it applied.

What did grip have on the way Logan clutched at Leo’s shoulders when they were at last as close as anything could be, his thighs shaking against Leo’s. Bliss, certainly, was nothing compared to the look on Logan’s face when Finn’s hand pressed over the strong curve of his adam’s apple and asked him how he liked it, told him they looked gorgeous. Throbbing held nothing to the way Leo’s heart pounded, and more than nothing to how close those words brought him to the edge. Rhythm. That’s what Logan had. Leo set his hands against the small of his back—two dimples there, made for Leo’s thumbs—and held on.

“Mm—” Logan’s breath came out short and he froze, mouth open against Leo’s neck. His back was slick with sweat now. Finn sat back on his heels just beside them, working himself slowly.

“What you waiting for, baby?” Finn breathed. He’d not been moving much, but there was a sheen over his nose and temples, too. Just from watching. Now, he shifted behind Leo and wrapped his arms around his waist, nuzzling under his jaw.

Leo reached between them and Logan muffled his sound in Leo’s neck. Logan hadn’t been warm from the second he met him, but oh, he was warm now. Burning in Leo’s hands, against Leo’s body.

“I just want it to last,” Logan said shakily, but he was moving again, like he couldn’t help it. “You’re leaving in two days.” Logan wrapped his arms fully around Leo’s shoulders. “Don’t.”

“Don’t even know how—” Leo’s eyes slipped shut and he tried to breathe through the mix of white hot pleasure and blue tenderness pulsing through him. “How to think about leaving.” He smoothed his hands up Logan’s back, feeling the way it flexed as Logan moved against him.

“Ouais,” Logan said, a smile slipping across his face. He pulled back, his breathing jumping as their hips shifted. He kissed Leo hard, then cursed softly and let his head fall back. “Fuck…Leo…”

With his hair falling back and out of his eyes like that, Leo’s language left him entirely. He’d seen him like this on stage, lost in the music. He’d watched from the VIP booth, from the wings. Logan was closer to him than Finn was, always staying in one place. He’d seen the lights catch his every angle as he threw his head back, sweat dampening his dark hair, and played with everything he had. Tonight, Leo felt like theirs in that same way.

The sheets were kicked towards the end of the bed, or pooled on the floor. Leo’s head was on Finn’s chest, Logan’s forehead pressed to the top of his spine. Leo couldn’t stop touching them. He trailed his fingertips down Finn’s chest and watched goosebumps follow in their wake. Logan had a thigh thrown over his hip and Leo stroked the unbearably soft skin behind his knee. He dipped his thumb in the divot below Finn’s bottom lip.

Finn smiled sleepily, his eyes closed. His eyelashes were dark just now. In certain lights they tinged lighter, like his hair. “You’re ticklish.”

“You’re soft,” Leo replied.

“Is he asleep?” Finn whispered.

“Non,” came Logan’s voice, though he sounded part of the way there.

“I’m not kidding.” Leo reached back to hold Logan’s hip. “I’m getting up if I start keeping you awake with my tossing around.”

That was a lie. There was nothing that could haul Leo out of where he was right now.

“Nu-uh.” Finn kissed Leo’s temple. “No tossing. Not with the weighted blanket I have.”

“You travel with a weighted blanket?” Leo asked skeptically.

Finn reached out and picked up Logan’s hand, kissing his knuckles. “Sure do.”

“Oh,” Leo laughed.

“One-hundred percent effective, I promise.”

When Finn turned the lights off, it sent the room into near complete darkness and so Leo could do nothing but feel, in every nerve, and expanse of exposed skin, the way Logan nudged his nose into the soft hair at his nape, and the way Finn rolled onto his side to hold them both.

“Show tomorrow,” Finn whispered. “You ready?”

Leo smiled. “Do I have to be ready? I think that’s supposed my question to you two.”

“You have to be ready,” Finn placed a kiss to his neck. “It’s a Leo show.”

#Write Me In lumosinlove #o'knutzy #lelo #sunfish #finnlo #Logan tremblay #Leo knut #finn o'hara #band au

99 notes · View notes

invisible-lint · 4 months

Text

Everything Could Be Okay: Prologue

Andras x Reader

Summary: a prologue for what will be a Rhys x Tamlin's sister!reader

Warnings: angst! very brief mention of pregnancy loss

Word Count: 1,078

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

You knew you were already too late. You could feel it in the ache of your legs. The pounding of your heart. The breath panting through your lips as you race through the trees. He had made his decision, sending another to tell you, worried that seeing you again would change his mind. You knew that you couldn’t stop him, but perhaps you could at least say goodbye.

Your dress catches on a branch, tearing, but you heed it no mind as you keep running as your destination comes into sight. Two sets of eyes fall upon you.The green eyes of your brother, filled with pity. The gray eyes of your husband, filled with regret. Your brother nods before stepping away, giving the two of you the moment you so desperately need. You throw yourself at your husband, clinging to his tunic, the silver that had been rimming your eyes finally spilling over.

"Don't do it. Don't leave me," you sob.

He says nothing, gently brushing the tears away from your eyes, somehow managing to keep his own at bay.

"Andras. Please," you beg.

He speaks finally. "You know I must. For the Spring Court. For Prythian."

"To Hell with the Spring Court! To Hell with Prythian! I need you!" You pause for a moment, voice growing soft as your hand finds your stomach, cradling the babe growing inside. "We need you."

He places a hand over yours. "That's why I must go. There is so little time left and I will not let my child live in a world that's been corrupted by Her. I cannot bear the thought of it. It may be a fool's errand but it is the only thing that I can think of that might save our child. Save you."

You nod, a fresh wave of tears leaving you unable to speak.

He holds you for a moment, wishing it could be different. Wishing there was a way he could protect you without sacrificing himself. A way to live and see his child born. But there was not and so he must. He breathes in deeply, taking in your scent for the last time and kisses you on the forehead before stepping away and nodding at the other male.

Somehow, you manage to stay on your feet as he leaves you, watching the magic that transforms your love. You walk over to the wolf that stands in his place, placing a hand on either side of his muzzle before pressing a parting kiss there. The wolf gives you one last longing look before slipping through the hole in the wall.

You drop to the forest floor as your legs finally give out, sobs wracking your body. Your brother sinks down next to you, pulling you into his arms, holding you tight. As if by holding you he could prevent the shattering of your heart.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, voice cracking. "I tried to talk him out of it. Tried to convince him to stay..."

You ignore him, too focused on your own broken heart to listen to him try to make himself feel better. He picks you up then, standing to carry you home. If you can call it that anymore when such a vital piece of it is now gone forever.

You were in the gardens the day he died. Wandering aimlessly, fiddling with the gold ring hanging on the chain around your neck. You felt it as he drew his dying breath. Perhaps you had been mates after all. Perhaps this was as close as you'd ever get to feeling that bond, that golden thread that would never be, emptiness filling your chest as you sink to the ground amongst the roses. If it had snapped, could you have convinced him to stay? Could you have convinced him that you needed him, needed the other half of your soul? A hollowness fills your chest where you had always imagined the bond might form linking you to him. But it never did. Emotions burn in your throat, and somewhere someone screams. It’s a raw, primal sound filled with grief. Could that be you? You’ve retreated so far into yourself that you don’t even know anymore. Your hand falls to your stomach where it will swell with child, curling around yourself to protect the babe, as if this grief is an enemy you need to protect them from.

You’re not sure how long you lay there, curled in on yourself, feeling everything and nothing at the same time. You knew this day was coming. He may as well have been dead the day he crossed the wall and went into the human lands. You press his ring to your lips, the gold band cool from the night air.

It is not your brother who finds you, but Lucien. He picks you up, carrying you into the house that no longer feels like a home. He carries you to your room, tucking you into your bed. He sits next to you, stroking the hair back from your face just like your mother had when you would wake from a nightmare as a child. But there was no waking from this one. He tells you how Tamlin is already going to find Andras’ killer to see if his death has brought the hope we so desperately need. You pray to the Mother, hoping that it hasn’t all been for nothing. And as your eyes grow heavy, the grief finally dragging you down into sleep, you hear as Lucien softly sings a lullaby his mother sang to him as a child.

Months have passed when you wake with a start, tears streaming down your face. You'd dreamt of the forest again. Of losing your love, your home, your soul. Your dream followed him into the mortal lands, to where the human girl had shot him with the ash arrow. You had asked her about it, needing to know. Needing to know if he had been in pain. If he had suffered.

Your hand falls to where your child should be growing, letting the tears stream down your face as you stare up at the canopy of your bed. He had done it. Andras had been successful and now the rest was up to your brother. He just had to get the human girl to fall in love with him and your husband's sacrifice would not be in vain. Everything you lost would mean something. And maybe, one day, everything could be okay again.

Chapter 1

A/N: This is my first fic with more planned! If you liked it feel free to send a request!

Thanks @azsazz for inspiring me to give fic writing a try!

divider by: @tsunami-of-tears

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #maasverse #fanfiction #imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #andras x reader #rhys acotar #rhysand x reader #acotar fic

224 notes · View notes

ist4rgirlo · 1 year

Text

────────── 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐜.𝐟

ONE SHOT !

they did say that when two people are meant to be together, they will eventually find a way back to each other. however, are you ready to open your heart again to a person who has broken it in the past?

SEQUEL TO : you’re losing me

───────────────────────────

“They say that your first love never dies. You can put out the flame but not the fire”

It was true, for me atleast. I’d be lying if I said that I don’t love Conrad, because I do, I still do — no matter how much he had hurt me before, a piece of my heart is still beating for him.

Time, curious time

Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs

Were there clues I didn't see?

And isn't it just so pretty to think

It wasn’t easy to move on, he made me feel things — things that I never felt before. He was different, he just was.

For two years, I had done my best to put the past behind me, but still, I would often find myself thinking of Conrad and wondering what could have been.

Until one day, when an unexpected text message popped up on my phone. It was from Conrad, of all people. Confused but curious, I opened the message. The only thing that it said was 'Are you free today?’ Could he possibly still care about me, after all this time?

A string that pulled me

Out of all the wrong arms right into that dive bar

Something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire

Chains around my demons, wool to brave the seasons

One single thread of gold tied me to you

I thought back to the words we had said to each other; the heartache that had been so painful that it had taken so long for me to move on. But still, here he was, wanting to see me. Was I willing to open my heart up to someone who had broken it so badly in the past?

───────────────────────────

Conrad asked me if we could meet at the beach near Cousins. I dont know why why I said yes, maybe I wanted closure — maybe I wanted to hear his side.

I stood on the dock, the ocean air getting caught in my hair. Although the sun was out and the sky a brilliant blue,

I couldn't bring myself to take in the beauty of the day. I was too consumed with my thoughts, instead glancing around, distracted and flustered.

I saw Conrad — standing at the end of the shore, a better vision than the view of the ocean I had become accustomed to.

I swallowed hard as I stared into his eyes - the same eyes that had shattered my heart months ago. He looked different. Older, strong, different from the man I had said goodbye to all those months ago.

But there he was, standing in front of me, arms crossed — pain pierced through me like a hot knife as I remembered fond memories I shared with him. Memories that were now tarnished by the hurt he had caused me.

I took a deep breathe and stepped forward — walking towards him.

“Hey Conrad,” I said tentatively.

He looked up with surprise, then quickly looked away. “Hey y/n,” he muttered.

“It’s been so long huh?” Conrad asked. I looked at him before answering “Yeah, It has. I just want to get to the point already. Why did you want to see me?” I asked him.

His eyes met mine, filled with regret and longing. "I never stopped thinking about you," he confessed, his voice laced with raw emotion.

I listened, my heart warring between the past and the present. Memories flooded my mind - stolen kisses, whispered promises, and the crushing pain of betrayal. And yet, beneath it all, the flicker of what once was remained.

"You broke me," I replied, my voice steadying.

Conrad reached out to gently touch my cheek, sending a shiver down my spine. "Please, Y/n," he pleaded, his voice filled with desperation. "What I did was fucked up, you didn’t deserve that — you didn’t deserve to be ignored, I-I should’ve paid more attention to you”

"I messed up, I admit it. I was a fool to let you go. I've regretted it every single day, and I wish I could turn back time and change things." He said, taking a step closer.

I blinked back tears, trying to resist the pull I felt towards him. "Conrad, it's not that easy. You hurt me so deeply, and I've spent so long trying to heal." I said, backing away from him.

"I know," he murmured, his voice cracked with emotion. "But I'm here now, and all I want is a chance to make things right, to prove to you that I've changed. I want to be better for you.”

His words tugged at my heartstrings, and I felt a glimmer of hope. Could we really find a way back to each other? Was it possible to rebuild what had been broken?

Time, wondrous time

Gave me the blues and then purple pink skies

And it's cool, baby, with me

The sound of crashing waves filled the silence between us, punctuating the weight of the moment. I looked into Conrad's eyes, searching for sincerity, I’m scared — scared of risking again. Scared of getting hurt again.

“I-I don’t know, Conn-“ I said looking down, he walked closer — his hands reaching for mine.

“I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything, just.. just let me love you. Let me be a better man for you.” he paused “I’ll wait for you”

And isn't it just so pretty to think

All along there was some

Invisible string

Tying you to me?

I looked up at him, I saw the glint in his eyes — he was genuine, his voice sounded hopeful — his eyes filled with love. It wouldn’t hurt if I tried again right? maybe now, it’ll be right.

#Spotify #tsitp #tsitp conrad #conrad fisher #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher fanfic #conrad fisher fic #conrad fisher x reader #the summer i turned pretty #tsitp imagine #tsitp fic #tsitp fanfic #conrad fisher fluff #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher angst #abtconrad fics #taylor swift

632 notes · View notes

squishi-bunni · 2 years

Text

🧶💝As Special as You💝🧶

Reader who was in a past toxic relationship is shocked by Howl spoiling them.

Reader likes to crochet

Howl x Reader

tooth-rotting fluff , comfort , cheesy

The castle creaked and huffed as it crawled across the rolling green fields. I watched the bright blue rivers wind across the plains from the balcony. The Wastes were quite beautiful, despite their name.

In my lap sat a half finished crochet project - one mitten out of a pair. The yarn was a bright fuscia, vibrant against my wooden crochet hook. I finished the last row of the mitten, cut the yarn, and sewed the ends in with a darning needle. I put the mitten on my hand and smiled at its perfect fit.

The flung open, startling me. I whipped around to see none-other than my love, standing proudly by the door and beaming at me with excitement.

"There you are!" he proclaimed."I've been looking for you!" He grabbed my arm and yanked me put of my chair before I could say a word. "Come downstairs my love -- I have something to show you."

I stumbled down the stairs as I was being not-so-gracefully dragged to the living room by the eccentric wizzard. I laughed at his antics. "Slow down there, Howl! I'm gonna trip if you're not careful!"

We reached the living room and Howl stood next to the center table, presenting to me a long wooden box and sealed black bag.

I cocked my head at him. "What's all this?" I asked, eyebrows raised with intrigue.

"It's a gift!" he said, "for you!"

I was stunned. I wasn't used to getting gifts, or just having anything done for me in general. Even a flower picked from the garden would shock me when Howl gifted one.

"Don't just stand there," he said, gesturing towards the gift. "Open it!"

He beamed at me as I carefully opened the wooden box. The hinges at the back creaked as I slowly lifted the lid.

I was presented with a set of gold plated metal crochet hooks of every size available. There was a hook small enough for a piece of sewing thread, a hook which took up the circumference of my hand, and every size in between. Howl's delighted chuckle is what indicated to me that my mouth was agape. I could feel my smile reach up to my eyes.

"I-- you-- Howl--" I stammered.

"You still need to open the bag!" he reminded me.

I looked over to the velvet back and opened it. There was assortment of yarns of all different colors, thicknesses, materials. I dipped my hand in the bag to feel the yarn, and it was like how I'd imagine shoving your hand in a cloud would feel. Each yarn was soft and somehow silky.

I felt the tears come to my eyes then. I choked on the built up air in my throat and broke out in sobs.

Howl's beaming smile turned into a concerned frown. He rushed towards me and held my shoulders gently. "What's wrong my love?" he asked, brows furrowed.

"I--I just," I choked out. "I haven't-- No one's ever gotten me something so nice." I hugged him and buried my face into his shirt. "This is the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me."

Howl wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into a tight embrace. "My love, you deserve every precious thing in the world," he said. "Only a fool would fail to make you feel as special as you are."

I looked up and gave him a chaste kiss through salty tears. "Thank you so much."

He smiled at me. "It's no problem love -- I'm happy to make you happy."

#howl jenkins pendragon #howl pendragon #howls moving castle #howl x reader #studio ghibli #ghibli #howl pendragon x reader #howls moving castle fluff #fluff #please excuse my shitty grammar #I write these to cope with my relationship trauma lol

2K notes · View notes

queenie-ofthe-void · 2 months

Text

A Desperate Fool - Part 4

Part 3

Eddie gets settled on his usual kitchen barstool and watches Nancy make a pot of coffee, which is great considering he showed up at the ass crack of dawn, too anxious to wait. Well, and a day early, but sue him, he missed her.

Nancy and Jonathan’s house is just as cozy as he remembers, while also serving as a solid reminder he’s not the only successful Wheeler. Original hardwood floors complimented with arched entryways and wainscoting. Cream and sage fill the living space, dotted with drops of gold accents. Low, soft lighting illuminates every room with warmth. It’s clean and modern, yet comforting in a way The Harrington’s eggshell minimalism estate and his own dark industrial penthouse have always lacked.

It’s quiet and domestic and everything he’s missed about having a home. The glow in his chest doesn’t outweigh the thread of tension thrumming through him, but it does ease slightly when she hands him coffee in his favorite Garfield mug.

They catch up for hours as she fills him in on everything he’s missed. Mom and Ted finally retired down to Clearwater after Holly moved out for college. Mike and Will’s adoption went through, after working on it for years– and jesus christ, he’s an uncle now. Will’s still publishing his YA fantasy graphic novels. Mike’s a happy house-husband now stay at home dad.

El finally quit her shitty government research job and decided she’d rather work full-time at Argyle’s pizza shop learning the ins and outs of the business. She’s better suited for it, he thinks, she’s always loved being around people and working with her hands.

She tells him about her and Jon settling into their new posts at The Chicago Times. Nancy’s managed to make friends with people outside of the Politics department. Jon’s moved from photographing for tabloids to local events like concerts and festivals, currently out of town for the weekend at a festival in Rockford. She says he’s happier now, with a job more his speed, and Eddie has to agree. Although they apparently just missed each other last fall when he’d started the job only a month after Corroded Coffin’s concert at Wrigley.

As Nancy goes on, talking about the rest of the kids while they lounge around the house, moving from the kitchen, to the living room, to the snow covered balcony so he can smoke, he tries to listen– he does. But he’s close to snapping, forced to wait so long for answers. He needs to know everything that’s happened, and why she’s the one who has to tell him. Her and Steve dated in high-school almost ten years ago, and granted they stayed close, but she’s not Robin or Max. She’s one of the few people Eddie’s closest to, except for Dustin, who could easily give him more answers than Nancy probably could.

He’s spiralling. He’s biting his nails, picking his lips raw. His leg is bouncing erratically and the only thing that helps is pacing whatever room they’re in. Nancy’s still talking about Argyle’s newest pizza recipe when he finally breaks.

“Nancy, for fuck’s sake please just tell me what’s going on with Steve.” He reaches down for his smokes but his hand’s shaking, the pack gets caught on his pocket and falls to the ground. When he bends to pick them up, the lighter follows suit and bounces under the couch Nancy’s perched on.

A manic laugh bubbles from the pit of his stomach as he drops to his knees. Eddie briefly wonders if he even wants answers or if he’s just punishing himself. He bends forward, letting his forehead rest against the hardwood floor, cool and grounding.

Grabbing the smokes and lighter, he looks up to find Nancy’s eyebrows and nose all scrunched up, lips pursed. She’s looking at him exactly how he knew she would, full of pity and disappointment.

There’s something underneath the expression though that Eddie can’t quite pick out– anxiety, maybe. He wouldn’t have such a hard time reading her if he hadn’t been gone for almost a year. Another reminder added to the long list of his life-altering mistakes.

Eddie stands on unsteady legs, moving to the balcony for another smoke, with Nancy hot on his heels when there’s a knock on the front door. She shoots him an apologetic look, but he waves her off. He’s waited this long for answers, what’s another minute in misery.

When Eddie’s finished his smoke, he does his best to sneak back inside without being noticed. An unfamiliar voice calls him out.

“Oh, Nancy I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had company!”

Eddie pokes his head around the corner to find Nancy standing next to a petite woman with dirty brown hair and thick platinum highlights, who’s dressed in an uncoordinated riot of colors and textures. Knee-high navy blue socks, tucked into tan polka dot flats, end just below the hem of her corduroy skirt. It’s a deep brown, matching the polka dots on her shoes, and the material’s so stiff it moves around her like a hoop skirt. She’s layered a puffy-sleeved periwinkle button up underneath a teal sweater vest.

It’s an odd assortment of colors, patterns, and textures that’s not quite artistic enough to be considered eclectic or interesting. Just bizarre and– if he’s being bitchy about it– a little boring. Eddie’s worn enough dramatic getups in his life, but beige isn’t doing this girl any favors.

The petite woman is blushing, eyebrow cocked in question, and Eddie realizes she’s been holding out her hand to him in greeting while he’s standing her silently judging her, like an asshole.

“Hi, you must be Nancy’s brother Eddie,” she says. Her voice is a light soprano, tonally off in an overly polite, customer service way. “I’m Becky.”

“Nice to meet you.” He finally manages to shake her hand, noticing they’re both wearing rings on each finger topped with chipped nail polish: his black and hers a sparkly baby blue. But while his rings are chunky and silver, hers are delicate gold bands stacked to varying thicknesses. “Umm how do you know Nance?”

“Oh, we met at work,” Becky says, smile widening. “Nancy’s told me all about you.”

“Hopefully just the good stuff.” Eddie tries for a joke, but her eyes tighten for the briefest moment.

“Yeah, she told me you were going to be back in town for a little while, I just thought you were coming tomorrow, otherwise I wouldn’t have bothered you.” She glances toward Nancy, her smile straining further.

“No it’s alright, Nance and I were just catching up.” Nancy’s shuffling her feet, eyes darting between Becky, the floor, then Eddie, and back again. Becky is staring at her too, and Eddie’s not sure he’s ever seen Nancy this anxious. She looks completely checked out of the conversation.

He’s always suspected she’s been a bit embarrassed by him. Throughout school, he was the loud obnoxious troublemaker, and Nancy the wholesome straight A student. Every new school year, Nancy spent the first few weeks convincing her teachers that no, she’s not like her brother at all, thank you. Eddie played it off when he could, and has most of his life. But to see it now, so plainly written on her face, hurts more than he expected.

“She said you’re in a rock band?” Becky asks, attempting to fill the silence left in the wake of Nancy’s awkwardness. “Very glamorous.”

It sounds slightly sarcastic, but Eddie’s not sure if he’s just feeling overly defensive. “Playing and songwriting are by far the best part. The rest is just missing out on what’s waiting at home.”

“Mmm, so that’s why you’re in town then? Missing Chicago?” She seems genuinely sympathetic, but he can’t help puffing up like an angry cat at the drip of pity hanging from her lips.

“More like the people,” Eddie snaps. He takes a deep breath to steady himself. God forbid he has a panic attack in front of the first person Nancy introduces him to when he comes home. He’d really be living up to the nightmare older brother stereotype Nancy’s dealt with her entire life.

“Well then,” Nancy interrupts, clapping her hands together loudly causing both Becky and Eddie to flinch. “Thanks for dropping off my laptop, Becky, I really appreciate it.”

“Umm, no problem, Nance.” Becky eyes her warily, but takes the cue. She turns to Eddie to say their goodbyes as Nancy sees her out.

He heads towards the kitchen to get dinner started for the two of them. It’s almost ten minutes by the time Nancy makes her way back and her entire demeanor’s changed. Her spine’s straight with shoulders back, head held high, eyes steeled with resolve. A classic Nancy Wheeler I’m going to tackle this problem head on attitude, except it’s directed at him. Which is seriously not great.

But instead of saying anything, she pulls out the same kitchen stool Eddie had been perched on earlier and plops herself down, all without breaking eye contact. He assumes she’s got something to say, he can spot a Nancy lecture coming a mile away.

Once again, anxiety’s filling out space in his chest as he finishes cooking. They sit in relative silence on the living room couch while they eat, and all he can do is wait. Eddie wants to hear what she has to say, he wants answers, but he’s dreading it all the same. She’s upset with him, which he can’t hold against her. He deserves all of his family’s rage. That doesn’t mean he’s necessarily looking forward to it.

“Ok, ask me,” she states, setting the empty bowl down on the coffee table, turning fully face him. Leaning against the the armrest, she pulls one knee up to her chest while sticking her other foot right in Eddie’s lap. He matches her position, grabbing her ankle and plopping his own foot down beside her, hoping the small amount of contact will keep him grounded.

“Ask you, what?”

“Don’t play dumb, Eddie,” she says, “the entire reason you’re in Chicago isn’t to catch up with Jonathan or Mike or me.” Nancy’s chest deflates with a sigh, and Eddie’s heart breaks at the fact that she’s right. He hates himself for it, one more way he’s disappointed her. “He’s completely offline, the kids don’t post about him even though half of them have you blocked anyways. I know you probably did as much digging as you could and even though you hired a fucking private investigator– jesus christ Eddie–”

“That was only to find out where he lived, I swear.”

She scoffs, “Like that makes it any better.”

“I know, I know,” he sighs, lifting one hand from her ankle to rub his eyes. “I’m sorry, keep going. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s ok,” she says, squeezing his leg. The small gesture loosens some of the building tension, and he relaxes his shoulders.

“The point is, you probably don’t know anything about what’s happened with over the thirteen months you’ve been gone. But, I just thought, if you’re going around looking for answers, it’s probably best for everyone if they come from me.”

She looks away from him then to stare out the window next to them, and Eddie can’t help but follow her gaze. The sun has long since set, the only light coming from the end table lamps on either side of them, and the street light across the way. Dark winter nights always left Eddie feeling a little hollow, a chill even the warmest blankets couldn’t chase away. A feeling only Steve could ease out of him.

When he looks back at Nancy, she’s already looking back like she can read his mind. Except she’s chewing on her bottom lip, and when he meets her eyes, she can’t hold his gaze.

“Nance,” he says, confused at the sinking of his stomach, “why is it best if it comes from you? No offense, but you’re not necessarily as close to him as Max or Lucas, and they seemed pretty clammed up when they came around. Especially when they mentioned the fiance.” Eddie chokes around the word. Swallows around the dry bitterness coating his throat.

She squeezes his ankle again, except this time it’s too tight, her nails digging little moons into his skin. Like whatever she has to say will send him running, because everyone knows he’s a coward, will disappear exactly the same as before. It’s how he knows he’s still the same person as before– undeserving of the people he loves most– when her next words send a small shock through his system.

“Because I’m the one who set them up, Eddie. And I’m not sorry.”

~~~

Part 5

Tag List: @5ammi90

91 notes · View notes

sky-kiss · 9 months

Text

Doll

A/N: I don’t know how to tag this one. It’s not technically dubcon or noncon. I’d describe it a “fuck around and find out.” Loving doll ending, basically. We’ve had so much soft-Raphael lately.

I wanted some horrible fiends.

Raphael x Haarlep x GN! Tav/Reader: Tonight is Consequential 18+

Ah, but what an ignominious end to the tale. The hero finds neither hellfire nor glory, no salvation or damnation; there's nothing at all in the end. Raphael returns to his House of Hope to see the threads of his tapestry severed and the story cut short. The brief wash of pleasure he'd experienced earlier is buried beneath immediate delight and then secondary repulsion.

You're waiting for him, you see. Pretty as a picture, stretched out amidst a sea of dark silks, sweat-slick and spent. You stare at him, through him. Motionless as Haarlep tracks their fingers across your shoulders, down your sternum, over the soft skin of your belly.

"We had a visitor, Raphael," Haarlep says, laughing, gesturing with their free arm, fingers spit-slick. They press two into your open mouth, delighting at the way you instinctively move to suck, so pliant to their wishes. "Less…spirited than before, pity, pity. But just as useful!" They hum, pretty features turning downward. Haarlep pulls their fingers free, wiping the saliva across your neck. "Perhaps more, considering their prior showing."

"What have you done?"

Haarlep frowns, features turning in genuine confusion. They sit up against the headboard, letting you roll away. "Only what they asked, princeling! I am nothing if not a good sport. 'Body and soul,' requested, and 'body and soul' they gave. And for such a low price." They chuckle, "Mmm. Raphael. Raw and undiluted."

Raphael stares at you: eternally bound to him, to the House, a prize fit for a king, a hero's soul. He sees fool's gold sullying his sheets.

Haarlep's arms weave around him, nails scratching over his cock. They fold around this human force, nosing his cheek, licking to the corner of his mouth. "Don't you like your gift? Call me generous, little brat."

Raphael sneers. The comment will cost them later, but it will only satisfy Haarlep, carnal pleasure paling in the face of the inconveniences they've caused. The incubus smiles, eyes hooded and dark. They push, breathing in the words in his ear, plastering themselves against his back. The hard line of their cock presses against him. An artlessness in the little jerks of their hips, betraying genuine pleasure rather than their usual disinterest.

"So silent. Are we displeased?"

"No," Raphael flicks his fingers. He is himself again: cambion and king. "A moment of surprise." You've not moved at all—a lump of flesh, a still-warm corpse: all for their pleasure.

And you do please him. You've cost him a Crown, but he claws some of its price back. Foolish mouse, caught, batted too many times by too many paws. Raphael turns your face into the pillow, fucking you hard. Tight and wet and tedious.

He reflects on the latter point most frequently in the coming years. The devil sips his wine, watching Haarlep have their way with you. Your mouth slackened with pleasure, eyes glassy and vacant. He's hard, yes, a natural response to the pleasure licking through Haarlep and visual stimuli.

You are still lovely, mouse, and Haarlep moves with a liquid grace he will never tire of watching. The incubus tosses their head back, fangs barred, jerking you back against them. Splotches of purples and greens, yellows, paint your skin, a mottled canvas he'd admire under less reflective circumstances.

Raphael is hard but not aroused, and the disparity between those two states sticks like a splinter in his mind. He cannot fathom the…

(Haarlep flips you onto your back, takes and takes, and you are still as eager now as you were then).

…why of the matter.

(You manage a shout of dumb pleasure).

"Keep it quiet, won't you?" Raphael snaps, drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair. Haarlep laughs, one hand covering your mouth. The cambion's eyes drift over the bruises again, and it comes to him: understanding, clarified in Avernus' heat.

Oh, but you.

The ruin of you. So many words, so many languages, dozens upon dozens known to him, but Raphael can think of only one word for you. Not love or promise. Not hope or savior. No, darling, you are so simply summarized:

Disappointment.

#bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #raphael x reader #haarlep x tav #haarlep x raphael #bg3 smut #tw dubcon #my writing #needed some dark devil

296 notes · View notes

lokisgoodgirl · 2 years

Text

The Legend of Long-Dong Laufeyson [Pirate!Loki x Fem.Reader]

A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: A stranger with a mysterious legend in tow visits your tavern. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut (Multi) Ridiculous HC lore. Language. Abandon canon all ye who enter here (w/c 4.8k) A/N: I quite clearly used elements of POTC for inspiration, I hope you enjoy this little piece of nonsense. Poss part of a larger thing, we'll see.

“Do you know who that is?” Scarlett whispered, her eyes wide. You had seen her scoot over from the other side of the tavern with mischief in her stride, and something else; fear. None of the patrons seemed in the mood for a fight this evening but still, something was...off. You set two overflowing tankards of ale down before turning towards her with an aggravated smile. “Who?” She nodded towards the bar, where several bedraggled pirates lay slouched in various stages of consciousness. “I doubt even they know their own names.” you snorted, starting to turn before she grabbed your forearm, jolting you further around. “No, him.”

As she said it, your eyes found the tall figure shrouded in half-shadows leaning against the wall. The brim of a triangular hat covered his eyes, wisps of wild hair fluttering in the evening breeze from the open doorway. “That’s Long-Dong Laufeyson.” Scarlett hissed. “Don’t be a fool” you spat, “Long-Dong hasn’t been seen in years. He’s a fugitive, wanted for that business with the-” Scarlett nodded feverishly. “-with the governor's daughter, yes.”

The figure swirled the tankard in his grip, staring at it intently. You could just make out his infamous jawline beneath the shadows; cheekbones sharp and curved like the bow of a ship.

He wore a dark waistcoat, trimmed with gold thread and heavy buttons. A linen shirt hung low on his chest, the sliver of taut skin drawing your eye before falling to the loose ruffles hanging from billowing sleeves. The outline of his biceps were visible beneath the voluminous fabric; altogether too white to belong to anyone sleeping in hog barns or cargo holds. The leather waistcoat nipped in to his thick torso, the buttons straining lightly. The shirt was casually tucked into the waistband of his tight trousers. Too tight for climbing up mast-lines. Your analytical eyes ran from the leather strap diagonally buckled to his torso to the knee-high boots which glinted in the candlelight. He was clean. Too clean. This was no fugitive. And no pirate, either. Scarlett leant closer. “They say he can only come on land once every five years...” You scoffed, batting her away and offering a brief curtsey and a leer down your cleavage to the men seated at the table. “It’s true!” Scarlett whined, tugging the back of your apron as you padded over the cobbled floor towards the bar. “I have work to do.” you mumbled, trying not to look at the mysterious figure in the corner. She pulled your apron again, making you spin with a warning growl. “They say his night spent on land...that he picks one woman and…” she trailed off. “And what?” you snapped, folding your arms.

Scarlett’s eyes flickered to the side, checking for eavesdroppers. Her hand grasped your wrist again, pulling you both to lean on the bar. One of the comatose drunks stirred, foam drooling from his open lips. You’d never seen her so worked up, and considering penchant for the dramatic; you were impressed. “That he picks one woman, and fucks ‘er mad.” You snorted, a relieved smile stretching across your face. “Ai, Scarlett. You shouldn’t believe the tall tales men tell. Especially these men.” You cast an elbow behind you, hitting one of the drunk pirates shoulders. He raised his head, a mess of hair like a birds nest; eyes rolling. “Ehy-my quarterdeck ye lowly biscuit-eater...cleave him to the brisket..” he slurred, before his head fell back to the wood with a thump. “Besides” you continued. “He won’t find any governor's daughters in this shithole if that’s his type.” Scarlett was staring over your shoulder, entranced. “Look...look” she hissed. “The medallions wound in ‘is hair. Solid gold, they say. And every one, a woman’s soul.” You rolled your eyes, as she continued in hushed tones. “They say that when the poor bitch he’s fuckin’ is having’ her last climax...you know, the one that addles her mind...she can hear the voices of all the other ladies howlin’ his name as their sanity melts with pleasure...” A roar of raucous laughter erupted from the other side of the tavern. Your stare narrowed at the near-hysterical girl in front of you. “We need to get back to work, Lottie. It’s busy tonight.” She nodded reluctantly, before the colour drained from her face.

Her wide eyes were focused over your left shoulder, fingers pulling at the tuck of your apron. “Go.” you murmured. Years as the owner of a place like this had taught you when you were being approached from behind, however soft the footsteps. She scuttled away, immediately busying herself with the group of lively men at the rear of the tavern. “Can I help yo-” The question evaporated on your tongue as you spun to face the infamous Long-Dong Laufeyson. The tricorn hat had been pushed upwards slightly, the angles of his exquisite bone structure a chasm of shadows in the candlelight. “Am I to understand you are the proprietor of this establishment?” You snorted, flexing your fingers in a fist. This man is no pirate, you thought again; letting the breathe that had caught in your throat settle. He was too well spoken, the heavy English accent as dark and deep as dead man’s trench. It was too unassuaged by drink and hardship and rough sea air. In other words, too perfect. “Who wants to know?” He let out a measured chuckle. “I think you know. Your wench gave my introductions, did she not?”

You felt your cheeks heat, taking a defiant step towards him. “Strangers are always welcome in my tavern, sir.” you said, firmly. “But brutishness will not be tolerated.” His deep blue eyes searched yours, looking to discover any untruth in your words. Seemingly, he found none. “Of that I am certain, Madam.” he purred, reverently. You stared at him, lips pursed; breathing through your nostrils. The pulse in your neck was fast. Heavy. “You think it lies?” he murmured, pinching a curl which fell over your collarbone and swiping it backwards. “My...legend?” “When you work in my business long enough, you realise most everything is lies.” you said coldly, tilting your chin up as all your concentration focused on slowing your breaths. “And I’ll thank you not to touch me.” The man leant on the bar, the bend of his elbow creasing the leather of his waistcoat across his wide chest. He removed his hat. “Captain Laufeyson, at your service.” he murmured knowingly, tossing the headpiece on the counter. It was impossible now not to notice the tiny gold medallions woven into the lengths of his hair, linked in strands and dispersed throughout the dark mane like embers in the night sky. Like stars, you thought; trying to count them. “Nineteen.” he noted quietly, before taking a sip of mead. “Don’t you need a ship to be a captain?” you sniffed, mirroring his stance on the bar. “I haven’t seen any new bodies in the harbour.” He released a mirthless chuckle. “I have a ship, my lady. Your next question?” His face tilted towards you, making your breath hitch. The Captain’s dark lashes framed entrancing almond eyes, his alabaster skin smooth and seemingly untouched by abrasive ocean air and burning sun. “There’s a rumour about you. Abducting women and driving them mad. Pretty disgraceful even for a pirate.” you sneered, swiping a trail of mead from the counter-top. “Seduction, Madam...not abduction.” he hummed calmly while you scoffed. “And I prefer the term freedom, to madness.” He took another sip with his eyes fixed on you. Foam gathered on his top lip as he lowered the tankard, his keen stare glinting as he watched you observe his tongue flick out and lick it away. “You are a woman of the world, and no virgin I’d wager…” he murmured, narrowing his eyes playfully. “But I would wager also that you know such myths among the folk do not simply appear from thin air.” He twirled a coin in his fingers, before making it vanish beneath his thumb. “Do you believe in magic, I wonder...” he purred, making your breath hitch as his eyelashes fluttered upwards.

You could have sworn you saw the greenish blues of his irises ripple. “No.” you said plainly, watching his lip tug upwards in a clandestine smirk. Suddenly you noticed that a hush had descended over the tavern, and that more eyes than were safe had fallen on you both. “You should get out of here, there’s still a bounty on your head.” you snipped, seeing his smile stretch wider.

“Ah, so the Governor discovered us then.” he chuckled. You folded your arms. “She ran away before the wedding to her betrothed, and not before she told her father all about what you did.” you spat. The Captain raised an eyebrow expectantly. “Ran away, you say?” he pondered quietly. “Good for her.” “That was a smart match. You ruined that poor girl…” you chided, running your eyes down the maddening leather strap hanging sluttishly across his chest. He adjusted the ruffles of his cuffs, before placing the tricorn hat back on its jaunty angle. “You say ruin, I say...liberated.” he coyed, leaning forward.

His breath was sweet and warm, a tang of sea salt hanging on the rough edges of his curls. “I spared her from a life of misery, and you know it.” he whispered. “Now, enough of these inane pleasantries...come and see my vessel.” You raised an eyebrow, dumbstruck by his proposition. The man leant closer, the scent of leather and spices filling your nostrils.

“I recognise the yearning inside you. The resolute and unyielding need.” he hummed, making your thighs squeeze together. “The one that craves adventure away from these…” he cast a glance over his shoulder to the pirate now hanging dangerously over the edge of the counter-top; “...cretins.” he finished with a sneer. You snorted. “I’ve seen enough vessels in my time, Sir. I am certain yours is nothing special.” you scoffed, an awkward laugh making it’s way between the words. Your stomach flipped as the candle on the bar between you flickered, warmth nestling in the shallow of his cheekbones.

“Good lady...” he purred deeply, trailing off as he dipped one wide fingertip in the pooling wax. You watched it harden in seconds, feeling your heart beat faster beneath your corset. He rubbed his thumb against the smooth white cap cupping the long digit, a smile curling at his lips. “I can assure you, that you have never boarded a vessel like mine.”

A wisp of cloud webbed the moon as you walked with the stranger to the harbour. There was no sound save the eery lapping of water at the helm of the barges tethered close to the side of the stone jetty. You pulled the shawl tighter around your arms, a barrier to the unseasonal chill. Your companion’s boots thudded against the rough walkway, clunking buckles punctuating every purposeful stride. The soft jingle of the golden medallions in his hair was soothing, if you didn’t think too much about what Scarlett had said. You shivered. “So, what do I call you?” you muttered, scouting around at the ships dotted further out in the basin. The stranger chuckled, saying nothing. “Long-Dong?” you scoffed, as a gust of sea air skated up your long skirts. “Captain? Allegedly…” you grumbled, casting another look around the port. You had reached the end of the jetty, passing the final ship at anchor. Crossing your arms, you stopped. This had gone on long enough. “And what kind of name is Laufey-son anyway? That sounds a fiction too, like the rest of it.” “Long-Dong, Captain, Laufeyson…all correct, Madam. All very much...verifiable.” he smarmed, turning with a flourish at the very edge of the jetty. You scoffed, a reluctant smile twitching. He was mad, of course; but weren’t they all.

“Close your eyes.” he murmured, skirting his hands beneath the open tunic to rest on his hips. It was your turn to chuckle. “I wasn’t born yesterday Long-Dong.” you sneered, seeing him shrug.

“Merely trying to save your sanity, darling.” he said coyly, before spreading his palm; waving it gracefully in a practised half-crescent. You gasped, eyes widening as a huge frigate vessel painted itself into the air before you, moving from left to right. Its mammoth form rippled across the ocean below it, as still as glass. Barnacles clung to the black hull, rigging rising to the moon as it assembled itself like a mirage dwarfing the smaller ships around you. Six huge sails unfurled theatrically with a deafening roar, catching against the breeze; flickering, before the vision settled. Muted thumps sounded as a dozen canons came into view, slotting against shadowed gunports carved into the side. A flag blew proudly at the bow, despite the lack of strong wind. You squinted, making out a skull with two daggers through the eyes bathed in the bright light of the moon. Your mouth hung open, before you felt the pirate’s fingers nudge it closed. “You haven’t seen anything yet, Madam.” he whispered, as a gangway appeared by your feet. “Who a-are you?” you choked, feeling your feet drawn up the narrow walkway of their own accord. The man said nothing, following behind with a hand lightly clasped to your waist. You drew your skirts up, stepping onto the deck with trepidation. The air was eerily still, a warm calm infusing the air like static. The Captain’s heavy steps came to a stop, his breath fanning your cheek. The only sound was the light jingle of the gold woven into his hair; melodic and ghostly. “Come.” he murmured, winding his fingers through yours. The cool metal of his rings stung against your skin, clasping tightly. He led you across the ship to the steps up towards the quarterdeck.

“Where are the crew?” you questioned quietly, seeing the man shoot a glance over his shoulder with a coy smile as he led you up the steep steps to the next level of the boat. His eyes caught yours, dark in the shadow of the moon, before fluttering downward. “Do you wish me to open your mind this night, Madam?” the figure purred, releasing you with a flourish, making you stumble against the helm.

Your fingers wrapped around the raised wooden nodules, making the wheel sway with your weight. “I think...you have already..I don’t know what you are but-and why do you only show up every five years...what is this?” The pirate placed a finger on your lips, pressing his hips to yours. The heavy buttons of his tunic dug against your ribs as he lifted his hat and threw it to the wooden slats below. “I have other business to attend to during my absences, which does not concern you.” he said sharply. “Your little corner of this world offers...freedom. And I enjoy bestowing it on those like yourself. Constrained, but yearning for more...” he muttered, sliding the finger under your chin and raising it to meet his gaze. Those piercing eyes searched yours, hunting for resistance. He found none. The ruffles of his sleeves scraped your cheeks as he cupped your face in his palms, pressing his mouth to yours in a dirty kiss. The pirate’s warm tongue slipped around your own, deep moans rumbling from his chest as the heavy protrusions from the ship’s wheel pressed into your back.

You ran your hands beneath the waistcoat. The baggy shirt tucked into his leather trousers came away with a tug, allowing your wandering fingers to brush against his lower back. He pressed his tongue deeper as your fingernails scraped down, hips rocking into your body.

For the first time, you felt something hard and furious press against you, a ravenous pillar of flesh ready to ruin what was left of any innocence you might have. The legend itself. “W-where...where are your crew?” you panted slowly as you both broke for breath. His hair hung in messy tendrils around his jaw, medallions glinting in the cool light. A condescending smirk tugged at his lips as his eyes narrowed playfully. “My dear, they’re already here. Can’t you feel them?” he hummed, making a violent shiver roll down your spine. A low whistle sounded from the starboard, followed by another lower pitched call in response from the crows nest. Your head whipped back and forth, trying to track the fleeting noises. Another low, long whistle. And then another. Bodies began to appear like smoke in the darkness, shapes forming from shadows turned flesh. Your breaths became short as figures appeared leant on barrels; hung against rigging, stood on the very planks you had trod only minutes before.

His crew were dressed in seafaring garbs, scarves wound around their heads, ribbons holding back dark locks or falling in salt-clumped wisps. In their hands they held their work, seeming to have stopped their ghostly duties in mid-stride. Every set of keen eyes was trained on you; pinned helplessly by their captain at the ship’s wheel. There were dozens of them, all different and yet-

Him. They were all him. “Sir…” you whispered, fear washing over you as another warm breeze rolled across the quarterdeck. The Captain let out a mirthless laugh, rubbing his long cock against your thigh through the rough fabric. “They will not harm you, they are under my command.” he whispered in your ear, a clutch of medallions in his hair nestling in the hollow of your collarbone. “But they do like to watch.” “W-who...what are you?!” you gasped, as one of his hands slid firmly down your waist, grasping at the lengths of your skirts. “So many questions, and yet so little capacity to truly understand.” he murmured, finding purchase on the soft flesh of your thigh. In a moment of panic, you slapped him. He rubbed the skin, stepping backwards with a smirk. You grabbed a fistful of the skirts at your thighs, barrelling down the stairs to the main deck; pushing past the ghostly figures you soon discovered were all too real. You jumped as one appeared to the gangway, reclining shirtless across the gap to the exit with a bottle of rum swinging between lightly clasped fingers. Another gasp escaped you, seeing his carved stomach muscles clenching in the soft Caribbean moonlight. This figure’s hair was tied back in a faded silk ribbon, the pantaloons wrapped around his bare midriff fluttering in the breeze. Stumbling backwards, you tripped on a raised grate. You screamed, visions of unceremoniously breaking your neck on the deck of an impossible ghost-ship flashing through your mind in freefall before feeling the wind knocked out of your lungs.

A strong arm had wrapped around your waist, swinging you upwards into the endless starry night.

One of the Captain’s identical minions clasped you to his chest with his other hand wound around a long-line of rope from the mast-line. His wild hair whipped backwards, exposing familiar jagged cheekbones set in a grimace as you screamed into the night. You buried your face in his neck, feeling a soft chuckle radiate through his shoulder.

Squeezing your eyes shut, your stomach flipped as the two of you swung backwards; landing with a heavy thump on the quarterdeck at the Captain’s feet. “Thank you.” their leader muttered, pacing calmly in a circle with his hands clasped behind his back. The crewman nodded, his boots thumping softly as he descended the staircase back to his post. “Madam, I told you; you are under no obligation to me. You are free to go if that is what you wish, you only have to say the words. But I must insist that etiquette is observed. No brutishness, as you say, will be tolerated.” You looked up, hair sticking to your lips and strewn across your forehead. The man’s angular face was ethereal against the night sky; his fairness luminescent as he extended his hand in front of your wide-eyed stare. “Adventure.” he murmured knowingly, making a thrill race through you. Had you not known that the legends were true? Is that not why you had come? “Show me…” you whispered, rising to your feet with your head held high. “Show me why they talk of you the way they do.” “Madam, I thought you would never ask.” he purred. He stepped towards you, making you automatically shuffle backwards. Your spine met the mizzenmast with a thud, the boning of your corset sitting tight against the thick wooden pole as he pressed closer. Your fingers flew to the cords of the trousers, untying them frantically as he hissed above. His hair fell around your downturned face, the two of you watching his mighty cock released from the confines of the leather. The hem of the billowing shirt fell messily around his hips, the sight making your breath hitch. “As I said. Verifiable, Madam.” he chuckled, echoing your earlier scepticism of his moniker. A whimper slid past your parted lips as you wrapped your whole palm around the girth. “You will always remember the night you were fucked by Long-Dong Laufeyson, I promise you.” he murmured solemnly into your groan of anticipation, long fingers digging into the soft flesh at the back of your thighs. With the smallest of jumps, your calves were bound tight around his hips; the long skirts of your dress falling obediently to the sides. His wide tip slid across your messy entrance, nudging inward. “Are you ready to be freed, pet?” he hummed. A series of pants and gasps of approval were all your could muster as he began to squeeze his thick cock inside your tight heat, every inch making your eyes roll back further as you arched against the mast. “C-captain…” you keened, relishing the shudder of desire racing up his body as he bottomed out with a guttural moan. One of his hands steadied your hips against his own, the thick metal of his rings digging into the curve while the other found it’s way to the mast above your head.

His hips pumped upwards in slow, devastating thrusts; circling methodically as his length dragged against every pocket of pleasure buried deep inside. “G-gods..” he stammered nonsensically, the scrape of his fingernails on the wood above your head making you buck into him. His moans were primal, the tilt of his jaw to the sky drawing you forward to suck the irrisitable pulsing vein on his neck. You wound your hands in his hair, catching on the golden medallions woven through it. He hissed as you tugged gently, the jingling of the metal punctuating every measured mount of his cock into your soaking pussy.

“More…” you whispered between high pitched whimpers of pleasure. You could see several of his crew members out the corner of your eye leaning observantly against the side of the boat, silently watching their Captain at work. “More?” he growled, “My Lady…you are a mischievous one, aren’t you?” You whimpered again, feeling the crest of climax swelling.

“One for me, then one for them. Do we have an accord?” he purred knowingly, squatting lower before pumping upwards. The movement shoved you higher on the mast with a cry of pleasure, your hands flying above your head around the thick column of wood. The Captain’s grip pinned you in place, fucking you mercilessly over the precipice with a garbled moan of curses to the night sky. You saw stars behind your eyelids as he hummed approvingly, milking the leaking arousal from your core onto his manhood with slow thrusts before letting you slide gently to meet the solid deck below. “Gentleman.” the Captain commanded, a casual wave of his hand summoning two of his duplicates from their positions lounged at the side of the ship. A third appeared ascending the steps to the quarterdeck, the shirtless crewman who had blocked your earlier misguided escape attempt. The Captain slid his manhood from between your legs, his hand immediately taking the place of where your pussy had gripped it moments before. You watched in heady awe as the shirtless duplicate lay down on his back upon the deck, propped up on his elbows just below the ship’s wheel. The moonlight caught every ripple of muscle across his clenched abdomen, raven hair falling in tendrils from its silk tie. He raised his knees, eyebrow arching as he ran a lustful gaze over your bedraggled form. His two fellows stood to either side, waiting for their orders. “I think they wish to see what’s beneath those pretty skirts, darling. Indulge them, won’t you?” the Captain coyed, beginning to unlace the corset bound to your chest with the hand not slowly palming along his length. You followed his lead, divesting yourself of the layers of clothing that seemed unfitting in this maddening harbour of sexual impossibility. The skirts and corset pooled around your ankles, before you kicked them to the side. You stood naked in the low light of the clear night sky, moonlight bathing every inch of your body for the eyes that stared rapturously from all sides; coveting every curve. The man lying down beckoned. Your eyes flew to the Captain, now perched against a barrel. His cock was stiff with furious desire, the slow drag of his calloused fingers up the length of velvet flesh making your thighs clench. He nodded.

Silently, you made your way to his double lying on the ground; standing with your feet on either side of his torso. He made a twirling motion with his finger, and you obediently turned to face his feet before sinking down to meet his bare chest. The slick of your cum glided against his cool skin, making you rock deeper before feeling familiar hands cup your hipbones and pull you backwards. You gasped, feeling his warm tongue nestle between your folds. It flicked your clitoris, working around the delicate flesh as he discovered each curve and valley of your sex. Your hands curled against his hard stomach, grasping for purchase before a shadow covered the moon above you. Another double of the Captain sank to the deck, straddling his fellow crewman’s abdomen. He pulled you into a deep kiss, the rough cotton of his shirt catching beneath your fingertips as you ran your hands greedily over his shoulders. Fingers toyed at your hardened nipples as the form between your thighs lapped at your dripping pussy. His flattened tongue massaged and swept with delicious enthusiasm, every lick accompanied by a muffled groan of pleasure that left you desperate to flood his open mouth. But not yet, you thought desperately. Fuck, please not yet. You groaned like a whore as the crewman in front of you palmed your naked breasts, sucking needy kisses into your neck accompanied by low growls. He wanted you. They all did. He pulled you forward lightly, positioning you further on all fours. You whimpered at the loss of contact from the pirate beneath you; before his wet ministrations began again; neck craned upwards. You glanced down, seeing the clench of his abdominal muscles straining from the effort. A breathy moan from deep in your throat filled the air, making the duplicates chuckle in synchronicity. The Captain hand-fucking himself to the side was the loudest of all. “My mischievous wench…” their leader groaned, before biting his lip. His eyes were fire, the smouldering embers flickering in shadow. “You look so beautiful thus, being pleasured in the moonlight by my loyal crew...” You tore your eyes from his and glanced over your shoulder, seeing a third copy of the Captain dressed in a worn tunic and loose pants sink to his knees. Hair fell loose around his jawline, a deep scar running down one cheek. The one with his tongue slipping inside your wet heat rested back on the third’s thighs, pulling your hips back onto his flattened muscle with a strangled moan. Your vision began to blur, your disbelieving mind struggling to catch up as the new addition brought a finger to his lips and coated it liberally. His lust-filled eyes narrowed as he drew the digit out with agonising slowness, sucking in the hollow of his cheekbones. You felt climax surging, before the vision in front of you nudged your head back to face him. His tongue slid inside your mouth, caressing your nipples as tendrils of unrestrained pleasure curled through your veins. The newest member of your party began to tease at your asshole, the slippery digit massaging the forbidden entrance. You clenched, feeling the crewman between your thighs let out a grunt of anticipation as your head fell back, lips parted as whines of pleasure bounced between the sails fluttering above. A finger slid gently inside the tight entrance, curling gently against the curve of your body. His face burrowed into your neck, releasing deep moans as he pleasured you slowly to the knuckles.

The man in front sank down, latching his lips to one of your nipples and beginning to suck while rolling the other with his thumb. Shallow pants from the Captain broke through your haze, opening your eyes to meet his. His enormous cock was leaking over the tight fist slowly gliding up and down; a wet slick glistening under the light of the full moon as he watched. You raised one hand to pull the head of the man behind you further into the crook of your neck, the other winding in the dark curls of the crewman latched to your breast. Their Captain’s brow furrowed, his jaw slackening as he mirrored your expression. The grip of the crewman pleasuring your pussy tightened, his laps becoming messy and ravenous as he pushed you further to the brink.

All three worked in tandem, rocking you towards your undoing. Orgasm rose and blossomed like a tropical storm in your belly. The lustful pants of the three men were music, each a perfectly mistimed cacophony of pure sex.

With a howl of pleasure, you came undone in a mess of endless, juddering spasms. Your thighs tightened around the midriff of the man beneath you, knuckles turning white on the fists gripping the hair of the other two as they made your world disintegrate with their mouths and fingers. Through it all, your eyes never left the smouldering gaze of the Captain; the steady pace of his grip around his mighty cock never faltering. His fingers uncurled from the thick length between his thighs, before giving two short claps. You gasped as the three crewman vanished, leaving you a dripping naked mess strewn on the boards. Looking around, there was no trace of them; the eery silence of the ship returning in the pale blue light bouncing from the ocean. You looked up at the pirate captain stalking forwards, every pace of his heavy boots making unleashed desire thunder in your heart. He extended his hand, still warm from friction. The stranger pulled you to his chest as soon as your fingers met his own, a growl of desire rumbling as he ran his hands wantonly over your naked curves. A shudder ran down your spine as he gripped your ass, the sudden realisation of knowing that you would never be the same. “Who are you…?” you whispered to the breeze, expecting the same silence that had greeted you the many times before. “I am Loki, of Asgard” he murmured darkly, before placing a wet suck over the bruises appearing on your neck. You could feel the blood breaking through the vessels as he marked you with a black spot of remembrance. A curse, perhaps. You smiled against his hair, hearing the golden jangling of the medallions as he rubbed his length possessively against your mound. “I think I preferred Long-Dong...” you gasped through a giggle, before he threw you over his shoulder and turned towards a pair of ageing doors; kicking them open with a heavy thud.

Tags (cont. in comments)

@lokischambermaid @gigglingtigger @holymultiplefandomsbatman @muddyorbsblr @xorpsbane @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @loopsisloops @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @123forgottherest @joyful-enchantress @sititran @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @vbecker10 @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @xorpsbane @filthyhiddles @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @mistress-ofmagic @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @peachyymallows @soldeloki @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @aenvstelam @evelyn-kingsley @astridstark13 @arch-venus25 @skymoonandstardust @nine-leafclover @springdandelixn @lokiandbuckysdoll

#loki x reader #pirate loki #loki laufeyson #loki x reader smut #loki smut #loki x female reader #loki x yn #loki x you #loki fanfic #loki x female reader smut #loki imagine #loki odinson #loki marvel #loki oneshot

921 notes · View notes