#I really liked the last batch of chapters

[wooahaeruby]

Chapter 28: A Hand To Hold

Chapter Word Count: 5,126

TW

Mild panic, protective SVT

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There was a period where everything was going too…normally for the last week or so.

Not that you were really complaining- Things were calm! Work was going well, your relationships were going well, everything was nice and you were content- 

But there was a gnawing anxiety that crawled up your spine each passing day, eating your resolve alive. You were determined to not let whatever you were feeling dampen any situation, but you were getting tired of masking day in and day out. 

You arrived back at your apartment after a shorter training session with Chan at the penthouse, limbs sore, a fatigued mentality, and were ready to crash to get decent sleep for work tomorrow. One of your neighbors on your floor, an older woman with gorgeous salt and pepper colored curls, Ms. Nina, was shuffling to get her mail, asking how your day was while you also got your mail. The entire way back to your respective apartments she talked your ear off, not that you minded, and she bid you a goodnight, saying she was going to drop off a batch of muffles tomorrow once you got home. 

Near silently, behind the confines of your apartment, you placed your things down and kicked your shoes off, locking the door before sitting yourself down on the couch with your pile of mail. You sorted through each piece, placing it into different piles for bills, spam, before your eyes set on your typed birth name and address. 

Much like the last, there was no return address. It was a crisp, plain white envelope, however this one was thicker than the previous one. 

You tore the envelope open easily, taking the tri-folded stack of papers out. The first page was similar to the singular page originally, however more information was added; your grandparents names, your job title, and your old home street address . 

You tossed that page aside, seeing a black and white copy of your original birth certificate, as well as your most recent one after changing your name. There was a copy of your apartment lease and your parents’ death certificates.

Your stomach was on the floor, the sinking feeling was suffocating to say the least. You had a copy of these documents for logical personal reasons, you needed them for many years, but seeing someone got ahold of legal government documents and sent them to you?  

This was only to get worse, you could feel it by the tightness in your chest. Your skin was crawling and the beginning of pins and needles in your hands and feet were starting to set in. You focused on your breathing, taking on deep breath in, holding it, then pushing it out. The papers in your hands fell into your lap and you covered your face to collect yourself the best you could from your most definite panic attack. Each breath in was fire burning in your chest, engulfing you from the inside out. Tears were starting to blur your vision.

Anxiously, you patted around your person then stumbled to your bag at the door, digging through it to find it. 

“Pick up-” You tapped violently against the screen, calling the first person that came to mind. “Please pick up-” 

“ What's up, Mouse?” Your breath caught in your chest, hearing Seungcheol’s voice ring through the phone. 

“Cheol-” You sucked in a breath, sitting yourself down on the floor, not trusting your legs to keep you upright. 

“ Hey- What’s going on? Are you okay?” 

You could hear yourself stuttering, proper words weren’t forming. All you could hear yourself say was a string of curse words, there was a jumbled mention of a letter you think but you really couldn’t hear everything leaving you. 

“I’m at home-” Pushing the words out somehow between the burning breaths. “I can’t-” 

“ I’m sending Mingyu over since he is at Quartz, I’ll be there soon.” 

And the line went dead, leaving you in the panicked silence of your entrance way. 

You couldn’t tell how long it had been from the moment the call ended to the loud, repetitive knocking that came to your door. 

Barely managing to get yourself off the floor, you unlocked the door and leaned to peer through the small crack, seeing the worried eyes of Mingyu staring down at you. He pushed the door open slowly, letting you backup before his eyes darted around the space, closing it behind him.

“Is there anyone-?” He moved further into the apartment, looking around more before he turned to you, watching as you tiredly made your way over. 

“N-” You sighed, clearing your throat. “No one but me is here.” 

“Are you okay?” His voice was gentle, hovering his hands around your shoulders. 

You nodded. “Is Cheol coming?” 

“He should be a few minutes behind-” 

“Mouse?” Speaking of the devil…

Stepping through the door, followed in toe by Joshua, Jeonghan, and Wonwoo, was Seungcheol, panic in his eyes. 

“Oh thank god-” Jeonghan pushed Cheol out of the way, gathering you into his arms. He placed a kiss on your forehead, holding your face gently within his palms. “What happened, my love?” 

You didn’t notice Wonwoo stepped around the couch, only hearing the flipping of pages that clued you back in. 

“Who sent this?” For the first time, his tone actually sounded angry but one look showed only a stone expression. 

Joshua joined Jeonghan at your side, a hand being placed on your lower back to provide comfort. He leaned close, a chaste kiss being placed to the side of your head. 

“I don’t know.” You downcasted your eyes. “This was the second letter.” 

“Second?” Seungcheol grabbed the papers from Wonwoo’s hands, his eyes skimming through the documents. “Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” 

“I-” You broke away from your boyfriends, placing both hands on the back of the couch to think. “I thought the first one was a joke…”

Lifting your eyes, you met the hard gaze of Seungcheol’s eyes but he softened quickly, seeing the disheveled state you were probably in. 

“Sweep the apartment, see if there are cameras.” Seungcheol ordered and the four were off, making haste to search over every inch of your home. 

You rounded the couch and sat down, leaning your head back to stare at the ceiling. 

“Mouse,” Looking away from the stack of papers, Seungcheol took in your tired, definitely dissociative state. “Has anyone been hanging around here? Following you home?” 

“Bathroom is clear.” Hearing Joshua call down the hall brought some peace.

Your eyes wandered the slightly cracked paint of the ceiling, thinking if there was anything out of the ordinary. “No. No one has been hanging in the halls or by the mail boxes. No one has followed me from the penthouse or back home from what I’ve seen. Nothing out of the ordinary has happened. Seokmin told me to change up my routine every so often just to be safe and I have. I’ve been trying to keep an eye out.” 

“Bedroom’s clear.” Wonwoo called out. 

It wasn’t long before the four were moving about the living room, lifting things, moving items, and placing things back into their place. Their eyes were harsh, working quickly to get their task done. 

“When you are done, Wonwoo, head down and see if there is a tracker on her car.” The younger man hummed, moving into the kitchen, opening cabinets and cupboards. 

“It’s clear here too.” Jeonghan sighed, taking one last look at the windows to make sure they were locked properly. 

“Yeah, I got nothing either.” Mingyu stood beside Seungcheol, taking the papers from his hands curiously. “Jesus, some of this stuff is hard to get even for Wonwoo.” 

“Very reassuring, Gyu.” You closed your eyes for a moment, only opening them to find Jeonghan standing behind you, looking down at you with concern in his eyes. 

“We’ll figure this out, Mouse.” Cheol was typing something on his phone when Wonwoo opened the door to head downstairs. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Is she hurt?” Hearing Seokmin’s voice had you sinking further into your couch. 

“Does fucking everyone know?” You threw your hands up, reaching for a couch pillow and hugging it. 

Jeonghan ran his hand through your hair, giving a small chuckle. “Okay well, that was my fault since I was on the phone with him when Cheol called, love.” 

Seokmin was beside you almost instantly, pulling you into his chest, firing off questions so fast it went in one ear then out the other. When he realized you weren’t paying attention, he whined. 

“I’m fine, Min.” Really, you didn’t sound all that sure of yourself but you basked in the warmth he brought since you felt freezing and vaguely numb from your panic attack. 

When Wonwoo came back, letting everyone know there wasn’t a tracker on your car, you felt lighter but still heavy at the unknown and creepy privacy invasion from whoever sent the letters. 

Seokmin was reluctant to let go of you until Jeonghan pulled you up and pushed you into the bathroom, knowing you needed a shower since you had trained earlier. He was sweet and pampering, getting you clothes and combing through your hair once you were finished. You didn’t mind when Joshua more silently fretted over you, having you brush your teeth and get your skincare done. 

The moment you entered back into your living room, Seungcheol was deep into a conversation with Mingyu, Wonwoo, and Seokmin. 

“It’s going to be hard getting anything from these.” Wonwoo didn’t look confident, looking through everything once more. “And getting the original birth certificate isn’t easy even if it is a copy. Let alone the death certificates.” 

“I have copies of all of those.” Breaking their huddle, Wonwoo and Seungcheol’s head shot up, tuning into your comment. “And unless someone broke into my apartment and my safe…I don’t think it’s plausible they got it here.” 

“There is too much foot traffic in the area and the building to even consider that fully.” Seokmin added. 

“Then someone went through the channels to get this?” Mingyu questioned. 

Wonwoo sighed, pushing his glasses up his nose to sit comfortably. “Had to. I’d have to dodge a lot of security to get this and I don’t even want to dip my hands into getting the FBI on us more than they try to be.” 

“So I basically have a really fucked up stalker?” The joke you tried to make didn’t bring anyone laughter… You looked away quickly and huffed through your nose. “Tough crowd.” 

“I’ll take this back to Pandora and see if I can get anything.” Stepping away from the group, papers in hand, Wonwoo moved towards you, placing a large hand on your head, almost…comfortingly. “If another comes in, let me know.” 

“Yeah, thanks.” You brushed him off, seeing the ghost of a smile on his lips before he was heading out the door. 

Seungcheol slid his phone into his jacket pocket, pushing some hair back from his face and nodded his head to Mingyu in acknowledgement. “Get back to Quartz, I’m sure Seungkwan needs help and to be filled in.” 

“Sure, boss.” Mingyu gave a thumbs up, quickly getting into your personal space and pulled you into a hug. “See you this weekend at the house?” 

You smiled up at him weakly, nodding as you brushed his growing bangs out of his face. “You promised to watch Legally Blonde with me, of course.” 

That left Seokmin and Seungcheol, both tense but trying to keep their faces neutral. 

Taking both Jeonghan’s hand and Joshua’s hand, you moved over and sat on your couch, pulling both of them down with you. “I’m sorry I called you mid panic attack, Cheol.” 

His head whipped to you, eyebrows furrowed together. “Why are you sorry?” Even Joshua and Jeonghan looked confused at your apology. 

“Well- I called you and I barely got a word out and had you all rushing-” Wanting to explain yourself turned into curling in on yourself… The four of them looking at you with different states of confusion made you feel dumb. 

“Mouse.” Seungcheol stepped toward, kneeling down in front of you. “I told you that if you ever needed help with your personal safety, we’d protect you. You are one of us, and you should know damn well that we protect our own. If we didn’t, we’d be some really shitty friends, don’t you think?” 

Staring down at him, eyes wide, you weren’t expecting him to admit that you were one of them. Hearing Seungcheol call you friends was even more shocking, but you gave a timid nod. 

“I’m sure I speak for all of us, but you could call any of the guys, day or night, and we’d be there in a heartbeat. You might have fallen into the shitshow that is SVT but you stayed and became a permanent fixture with us. I don’t think you will get out or away from us any time soon. Especially with dumb and dumber at your side.” Seungcheol smiled , full and reassuring, snickering when Joshua and Jeonghan protested at your sides. “We’ll figure this out, hopefully sooner rather than later. Promise.” 

“Did you seriously move the couches for this?” Standing near the kitchen table, you saw Mingyu and Seokmin beaming brightly at the very large, comfy looking floor fort they made. 

After dinner, you went to change and shower, being told that the living room would be ‘set up’ by the time you were done. Seeing the mountain of blankets and pillows that were cushioning the floor and the wide array of snacks in a pile was amazing, it put your mind at ease after the second mysterious letter. 

“Mingyu said you guys were watching Legally Blonde. I wanted to watch Legally Blonde.” Seokmin motioned you over with a wave of his hand. 

“I bought more of the good wine.” Jeonghan passed you on the left and Joshua, glasses and two bottles of wine between the two of them. 

Seungkwan and Vernon passed as well, taking a spot on the couch together, a bowl of popcorn and drinks in hand. “We need to watch the second one too, always my favorite movies.” 

It wasn’t long before Minghao found a comfy spot against the couch on the floor, pulling a blanket over his legs. Joshua promptly handed him a glass of wine, taking a seat beside him. 

“Is this a family event?” Though smiling, you shook your head and took the glass of wine Jeonghan handed you. 

“It’s turning into that.” Mingyu snickered. 

Sitting yourself down beside Joshua, Seokmin was quick to toss a pillow in your lap and sit down, crowding your personal space. You laughed at him, but he did nothing but get comfortable and wait for Mingyu to start the movie. 

“What are we watching?” Seeing Wonwoo for the first time in a few days since the group showed up at your apartment was nice. He had really set into trying to figure out what was going on with the letters but it was clear he was coming up short. He looked tired, more than usual, but he laid himself down on the floor beside Mingyu. 

Someone called out the answer, smiling as Jeonghan sat on your other side. 

“Don’t start without me!” Chan’s voice from down the hall and the heavy footfall of him running over had the group of you laughing. He jumped over the couch, crashing into Seungkwan’s side with a bright smile on his face. 

“I’m pressing play!” Mingyu grabbed the remote, starting the movie as everyone settled in. 

From the corner of your eye, you could see Junhui slip into the area, taking a spot on the loveseat, followed by Jihoon grabbing a few pillows and lying down on the floor near Wonwoo.

“Wait, where is Soonyoung?” You looked around the room, coming up short on your body count, and Jihoon snorted. 

“He fell asleep after dinner because he was out all night doing shit.”

“Did you start without me?” Seungcheol’s voice surprised you, leaning up and looking over the back of the couch to see the leader shuffle over in his usual pairing of an oversized set of gray sweatpants and sweatshirt.

“You didn’t say you wanted to join.” Mingyu teased, but Seungcheol dropped down behind you on the couch, tucking his legs close and grabbed one of the blankets to make himself comfortable.  

From the corner of your eye, you took note of Jeonghan throwing a look, one full of bewilderment, but he settled in at your side quickly. 

Much to your delight after the week, you relaxed between your boyfriends. Jeonghan’s arm was thrown over your shoulder comfortably and you could feel the gentle touch of Joshua’s hand on your leggings covered thigh. Seokmin didn’t move from laying his head in your lap, keeping your legs warm thankfully. 

The first movie was great for everyone. You, Seungkwan, and Mingyu didn’t hesitate to quote almost the entire court scene towards the end, which had a lot of the other guys giggling at the stupidity. Between the first and second movie, more snacks were grabbed, along with more drinks, people shifted their spots. Some moved to the floor while others kept on the couches. Jeonghan switched positions with Seokmin, but Joshua stayed at your side, now getting his turn to pull you into his side, holding you around the waist. 

The second movie was more quiet between you all, the drowsiness blanketing everyone but no one wishing to actually head to sleep just yet. Your hands were occupied by running your fingers through Jeonghan’s hair, smiling to yourself when he leaned into the touch every so often. You rested your head on Joshua’s shoulder, feeling him rest his head against you in return. It was no surprise when someone let out a quiet snore, even feeling your own eyes stay closed a little too long when you blinked. 

You made it through the rest of the movie while many others didn’t. Quietly, you stood with Jeonghan and Joshua, making sure everyone who was inevitably asleep on the couch or floor had a blanket and pillow. You had to nudge Seungcheol to actually be lying comfortably before placing a blanket over him, but he barely stirred from his sleep as you shifted him. The youngest three made their ways towards their room, bidding near silent goodnights before you and your boyfriends found themselves in Jeonghan’s room. 

Jeonghan already got himself comfortable under the covers, holding his arms open wide for you to join him. 

“I guess I’m never sleeping alone again?” 

“Not a chance in your life.” Flicking the lights off, Joshua passed you, making his way to the other side of the bed.

You climbed over Jeonghan, falling into his arms after getting under the covers. He peppered your face with kisses, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. It took only a moment for a second pair of arms to wrap around you, Joshua humming quietly. 

Lying here felt safe, protected from the anxiety ridden world you’ve been living in. It felt right, a place you thought you belonged, a place that while challenging was where you were definitely meant to be.

Having nothing to do most of the week was…boring. There wasn’t anything important that was eating into his time, paperwork was getting done quickly with Chan’s help. With how much of a busy body he was known to be, Chan laughed at him as they sat at Pledis’s headquarters, trying to figure out what to do. Most, if not all of the paperwork was done for the day, he didn’t need to be at the warehouse until the later evenings. 

Monday, he asked Mouse to get lunch, and to his surprise, she accepted. That lunch was fine, it was a lot of simple…talking. He asked her more questions about herself, things she enjoyed most, the games she played, and Mouse got a chance to ask him about his interest in restoring cars when he actually has time on his hands. 

Tuesday, he asked her again, emphasizing that she didn’t have to say yes, he could go by himself, but she once again accepted. He didn’t let Chan know the second time, just saying he was getting food and he’d bring something back for the younger man, which he did…after sitting with Mouse for her hour lunch… They did have a good time, continuing their idle chatter, even joking about the guys or something she saw online. Seungcheol found himself really enjoying the mid-day getaway, letting himself continue to show Mouse the childlike, bright person he actually was. She let a few layers of her walls down too, letting him listen to her burdens even if they were simple complaints.

By Thursday, Chan asked if Seungcheol wanted to join him and Seungkwan for lunch but he…already had plans.

“I asked Mouse to lunch.” 

“You asked Mouse to lunch again?” Chan sounded surprised, even furrowing his brows and cocking his head to the side. 

“Uh- Yeah… I thought since her lunch is soon, I’d ask her, she already texted back yes so…” 

“Hm…Interesting.” There was a knowing look in Chan’s eyes, even a ghost of a smirk on his lips. “Have fun!” 

Seungcheol gave a frown, pouting at the youngest. “What’s with the look?”

“Nothing.” He waved him off nonchalantly, “Go enjoy your lunch with Mouse, boss.” 

He made his way to a small diner just down the street from her office, knowing he had more time than her in general. Placing himself down in a booth near the front window, Seungcheol waited, seeing as he arrived early, and stared out the window. Seungcheol…he saw her before she saw him, watching through the window as she crossed the street. 

She looked…good, impeccably dressed in one of her more professional outfits, but nothing as fancy as the tailored suit he saw her in all those months ago. Sleek black pencil skirt ending just above the knee with a white blouse and thick, long light taupe colored cardigan. 

Turning in his seat, more facing the entrance, he watched her look around curiously before her eyes fell on him and a smile bloomed on her face. His breath caught in his chest for a moment and he swallowed down the tight feeling in his chest as she sat down across from him. 

“Hey, were you waiting long?” 

“Uh-” He cleared his throat, shaking his head. “No, I only got here a few minutes ago.” 

“Good! I didn’t want you to wait long, I got caught up at the tailend of my meeting.” She grabbed the extra menu on the table, letting her eyes scan over the choices happily. 

Seungcheol only hummed, glancing over the menu to figure out what he wanted. 

“You said today was slow?” Her question had him nodding, sighing quietly. 

“I was sitting on my ass for an hour so I figured I might as well go out for lunch if I have nothing to do.” 

“Glad I could join you then.” 

“You’re…in a good mood.” His words were hesitant, but Mouse only laughed, sitting back in the booth some. 

“Despite everything that is going on, today was good so far. I got my annual review and with how my work has been, I’m getting a big raise which is amazing. Maybe I’ll actually have money to spend.” She laughed once more, smiling to herself. “I’m trying to stay positive despite everything. Wonu said he is working on things and doesn’t want me to worry so much, which I’m trying to do. Training with Chan is going great too. I’m feeling good, Cheol. Like, actually good despite the bullshit.” 

“That is amazing, Mouse.” He smiled across the table to her, the tightness in his chest showing itself once more. “I know things haven’t been easy for you recently and we are basically to blame, but you are taking this with a lot of bravery and I commend you on that.” 

Mouse stared across the table, that wide, pretty, smile on her face- 

Wait a minute- 

She pushed her hair back from her face, the strands somehow framing her face perfectly, and before she had a chance to say anything, the waitress popped in by. Her bubbly personality was infectious as she spoke to Mouse, taking both orders before she was hurrying off. 

And she was still smiling, and why the fuck is my chest so tight for? Is it hot in here- 

“Oh! Are you ready for the ball?” She perked up, “Siyeon said you picked up your suit but she wouldn’t send any pictures.” 

“To be fair, neither she nor Jeonghan showed me your dress.” 

“Hm, I see they are scheming as usual.” 

“Always.” He hummed, “but I’m ready either way. Han said Sona is going to be getting you ready?” 

“It’s almost like he doesn’t trust me to make myself pretty.” Mouse feigned disappointment, her smile changing into an exaggerated pout. 

“I think you are pretty.” 

“What?” 

Oh, he didn’t mean to say that outloud- Fix this- 

“I said…I think you are pretty. Is there a problem with that?” 

“Huh- No-” Her cheeks flushed bright red, averting her eyes for a moment. “I wasn’t expecting it.” 

He nodded, pursing his lips, trying to stop his heart from racing . “So…How are things with Joshua and Jeonghan?”

Nice one, moron. He reprimanded himself, mentally punching himself in the gut. 

“We’re good. I’m more glad there is no awkwardness between the three of us. I think there is an understanding between us that we can talk about if something bothers us. Jeonghan has been good at communicating when he needs more attention or just needs some one on one time.” 

“I don’t know how you did it, Han has always been the worst at talking. He is always the one that listens better.” 

“Probably after yelling at him for the stupid prank kicked his ass into gear.” Mouse snickered. “From that point on, I think he realized that I was serious about beating the idiot out of him.” 

Lunch finished rather quickly with Mouse rushing back to the office, thanking Seungcheol with a quick hug as she hurried her way out. 

When he arrived back at Pledis, Chan was sitting at Seungcheol’s desk, feet kicked up on the wood. “How was your date?” 

“It wasn’t a date.” He answered monotone, rolling his eyes. 

“Sure it wasn’t.” Chan stood up, rounding the deck. “How was it?” 

Seungcheol cleared his throat, thinking over the words in his head. “I…called Mouse pretty.” 

“To her face?” 

“Yes to her face.” 

“And you lived?” 

“I’m standing here, aren’t I?” 

Chan eyed him from head to toe. “Interesting.” 

Seungcheol raised a brow before frowning. “What is that supposed to mean?” 

“Nothing.” Same as the tone earlier, Chan nonchalantly walked past him towards the door. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Get up.” The door to Jeonghan’s room was thrown open unceremoniously, hearing Sona’s voice. “It’s after two in the afternoon.” 

You could feel Jeonghan bury his face further into your neck, grumbling quietly at the light coming from the open door. 

“Five more minutes.” You managed to say, tightening your hold on Jeonghan, hearing similar grumbles from Joshua behind you. 

“I already let you sleep an hour longer.” Her monotone words were accompanied by a huff.

Then all the curtains were pulled open, sending the three of you in fits of whining. 

“I have to get you to the city, get done shit, then bring you back here to get you ready, get up.” Standing at the foot of the bed now, Sona eyed the three of you with dissatisfaction. 

“I could fire you.” Jeonghan grumbled, sending a glare before hiding his face from the light once more. 

“Yeah, because you could survive without me. Sure.” 

“You are sassy today.” With reluctance, you peeled yourself from both their arms and crawled towards the edge of the bed. 

“Don’t blame me, blame King hustling.” Crossing her arms over her chest, Sona huffed. “He wants you ready by, like, seven. This event you can’t be late for. Way different than the Gala.” 

“Sadly, she is right.” You heard Joshua’s voice, muffled by the pillow he currently had his face pressed into before a yawn escaped him. 

Sighing, you got yourself ready, changing from your sweatpants into leggings and exchanging the wrinkled t-shirt for an oversized sweater ( totally not Jeonghan’s). You bid both your boyfriend’s a goodbye, kissing them both on the head before you were quickly ushered out by Sona. There was a quick wave to the handful of guys in the living room as you were pushed out the front door, down to her SUV. 

“And before you asked, I already got you food.” Reaching over into the backseat, she grabbed a takeout bag from a place in the town not too far from the house, a little Mexican place with the best tacos that you and the guys have had too many times. 

“A life saver.” You hummed her praise, taking the bag from her with bright eyes. “What is the plan today then if King has you and me on a time crunch?” 

“Nails, picking up your dress, shoes, and mask, then getting back here with enough time to get your hair and make up done before you get dressed.” 

“So…girls day at the nail salon?” You side eyed her and you could see the ghost of a smirk on her face.

“A thousand percent.” 

The outing in the city didn’t take too long, at least you wouldn’t say it did. Really, the longest parts were driving back and forth to the house. 

Speaking of getting back to the house… 

“Mouseeeeeeeeeeeee-” Jeonghan threw himself at you the moment both you and Sona stepped through the door. “They are bullying me!” 

Over his shoulder, you saw not only Joshua, but Mingyu, Seokmin, and Seungkwan roll their eyes. 

“Because he wouldn’t fucking shut up about how pretty my girlfriend was going to be.” Seungkwan gagged as he mimicked Jeonghan’s fawning, making you snicker. 

“Can’t I be infatuated with my girlfriend?” Jeonghan countered, hugged you to his chest, throwing a pout to the others in the room. 

“I don’t care if you are, but stop making me want to vomit every time you open your mouth about her. No offense, Mouse.” Seungkwan started, rolling his eyes. “Have a personality outside of her, please. I speak for everyone here.” 

“Don’t speak for me, she is my girlfriend too.” Joshua frowned.

“That’s enough,” Sona gently took your arm, “We have things to do. You can take all the pictures you want after I am done.”

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[3dchoujinbag]

First time Togashi posted on twitter, he was on chapter 397, page 6. It took five months from that post (May 24 - Oct 23, 2022) for chapter 391 to be published.

Today, he posted chapter 405, page 5.

He has mentioned several times that he is continuously working to find the best system to make his manga. The system for 391-400 was not as efficient as he wanted, but seemed optimistic in his 401 post. This, combined with his Sailor Moon reference about healing means he may be feeling better and/or has figured a better system.

If we just add two chapters to his previous rate, we can guess that we see Chapter 401 this November (~six months). However, depending on his current system, back pain levels, and other possible events, it could be before or after that who knows.

Other facts for the timeline I guess:

Chapter 400 was completed on November 22, 2022

Chapter 401 was completed on March 9, 2022.

In between 401 and now, he posted this "Start Over" tweet on October 1, 2023, "Start Over" being a reference to the song by Sakurazaka46, used in this official video

His father passed away in November 2023

A HxH stage play happened that he was probably involved with in some form or another

[saturn-sends-hugs]

What if I just…

There :)

After Crosshair’s long night, Echo is still working on his recovery. Realizations occur, brothers continue being… well, brothers, and a familiar face comes to visit.

One bearing memories Echo would rather avoid.

pov y’all during the literal month it takes me to finish every chapter bskhsjsjsk

But it’s finished! And yknow what, I’m a lot more motivated for these next chapters so hopefully the month long wait doesn’t happen again lol 😅

taglist below cut:

@arctrooper69 @phis-writing @floundrickthewayfarer @softsunburstlove @ihaventpickedausername @thebispaceace @myrtlesb

fairly certain that’s everyone, lemme know if u wanna be added or anything!! tysm for the support, y’all are amazing <33333

[cuartist]

websites are so headache!!!

realized most recent page wasn't showing up bc I accidentally saved it as a png so it wasn't correct, so fixed that and uploaded it, and then neocities proceeded to not acknowledge that the .jpg was a file that existed on the site, even with refreshing and deleting the caches, and if i changed the name of the file!! it was showing up.

somehow me changing the code for what the pages are supposed to be called and then changing it back made it be fine, but??? why

[giuliettagaltieri]

Lonely Little Thing

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Lovesick!Reader

Chapter Synopsis: Jealousy, party, and a tooth fairy

Warning: Angst, swearing, one sided pining, shallow/light writing, you and Rafe are equally stupid in your own ways.

Word Count: 2150

2 of 4

It has been a week since the incident in the Country Club.  You and Rafe are barely talking, well, you are barely talking.  He was never one to start conversations with you.

In the Country Club, you would be ordering more drinks and food to keep your mouth busy so you won’t have to talk, just nodding and smiling along with Kelce and Topper.  The server, Sofia, evaded you like you had something contagious, and you would not blame her, you are aware that you completely lost it with her.

You hated it when she’s your server though.  One, because you can’t trust your food and drinks.  Two, because she was always lingering to ask how Rafe was, her hip leaning on his side of the table, while he entertained her.

Kelce would often start a joke to keep you occupied while Rafe talked with Sofia.  You would try to hold Rafe’s hand under the table but he’d pull away just as quick.

Once Sofia is gone, you’d try to make small talk with him but he responds with nods and shrugs, clearly wanting nothing to do with you at the moment, so you’d give up and try again after a while.

Rafe and you fought before but he always gets better when you stroke his ego or when you bake him cupcakes.  But you sent two batches already and he still does not talk.

The three of them are playing golf, with you sitting under the shade of the golf cart when you overhear them talking about a party.  You look up from your phone and try to listen.

“Hey, Y/N!”  Topper calls and you smile at him, eyebrows raised, as if you weren’t listening the entire time.  “Party at Tanneyhill at eight, you in?”

Rafe looks at you and you meet his eyes.  Does he even want you there?  Well, he doesn’t look displeased, only bored.

You nod at Topper before looking away from all three of them, hastily opening your phone to pretend as if you are doing something.

The boys continue their game, often cheering when they get a ball in while you are scrolling through your phone.  Soft footsteps make you look up and you see Sofia with a small cooler.

“Drinks?”  She asked plainly.

You sit up straighter.  “Uhm yes.  Cherry cola, please.”  You say quietly as you watch her dig through the ice filled cooler and she hands you a can of cherry cola.  “Put it under Cameron.” You see her inhale sharply from her nose before nodding.  She is about to walk away when you call her again.  “On second thought, put it under mine.”  You say softly, eyes now dropped to the ground as you scuff your shoe awkwardly against the mat of the golf cart.

“Okay.”  Sofia says curtly.

“Sofia?”  You call her and she exhales loudly before turning to you.  Biting your cheek, you slip out of the golf cart, as you play with your cherry cola can.  “Look, about last time.  I’m really sorry I yelled at you.  I know that wasn’t nice-”

“Yes, it was rude.”  She says, making you close your eyes tightly.  “I would understand if you’re his girlfriend but…”  She chuckles lightly.  “You’re not.”  You open your mouth to respond but she shakes her head.  “But it’s alright.  Let’s just forget about it.”

You smile at the ground and nod as she walks away to greet the boys with her pretty smile.  You look away quickly when you see Rafe smile at her, putting on your earbuds as soon as they start inviting Sofia to the party.

The party was in full blast the moment you stepped out of your car.  You struggled to get past the crowd to try and find Rafe and the others.  In every party you’re in, you’re always by his side.  He gets pissed when you’re not so it just became your thing but just as you find him, you turn around quickly.  He’s playing beer pong with Topper and Kelce.  But that wasn’t what made you leave.  It was Sofia, standing next to Rafe.  Where you were supposed to be.

You should’ve left home earlier, then this wouldn’t have happened.

Not knowing where to go, you stood there awkwardly, eyes darting around until you found familiar faces.

Choosing to hang out with your other friends, you temporarily forgot about Rafe.  A friend complimented your dress and you giggled, giving her a spin, making them all clap and whistle playfully.  You love being with your girlfriends, they always boost up your confidence.  Too bad you’re always using up all your time to hang out with Rafe.

You chug the content of your cup and you giggle as you nearly lose your footing, luckily, an arm wraps around your waist.  You look down and admire the rings on his fingers but you snap out of it as soon as you catch an unfamiliar scent, turning to face the man.

It was your schoolmate before from Kildare Academy, he’s been trying to get you to date him since forever, but you turn him down every time he asks.  You push his chest lightly but he tightens his hold on your waist.

“Whoa there, had too many drinks?”  He grins playfully.

“Thanks.  You can let go now.”  You stay sternly but he only chuckles.  His head is dipping to whisper in your ear. 

“Why?  You're free game now, aren’t you?”  He draws, making you scoff and sober up pretty quickly. 

“Asshole.”  You mutter as you try to push him off again.  Some of your friends are standing up, ready to interfere. “Let go.”

He laughs.  “Alright.”  He raises his hands in surrender.  “But you are, aren’t you?” 

You fix your dress and you glare at him.  “I’m what?”

“Free game?”  He smirks down at you, stepping closer, prompting you to take one back. 

“No.”  You cross your arms defensively, eyes darting around to try and look for Rafe, he always managed to keep this dude at bay but you know your girlfriends will have your back if he really tried something.

“No?”  He rubs his chin, and he frowns at you with faux concern.  “But your guard dog’s busy sniffing up another bitch, isn’t he?”  He chuckles as he steps to the side to show you Rafe swinging an arm on Sofia’s shoulders as they talk quietly in a corner.

Tears start filling your eyes but you will yourself to hold them.

“Is there a problem here?” 

You are grateful to see Kelce, walking over, his eyes on the guy beside you.

“Nah, man.”  He laughs.  “Just catching up with Y/N.  Isn’t that right?”�� He grins at you and you look away, brows furrowed.

“Catching up.”  One of your girlfriends spits.  “You called her ‘free game’ and held her without asking if she was okay with it.”

He groans.  “Oh come on, Y/N likes that shit.  That’s why she hangs out with Rafe Cameron, he’s the scum of Kildare Island but she can’t get enough of him.”

Your friends gasp and start throwing insults at him. 

“What is wrong with you?”  You yell as you push him off and you storm away.

Kelce calls your name but you were too busy wiping your tears.  You just need to get away from this place.  You hear an unmistakable sound of a punch landing on something, followed by gasps but you don’t bother to look nor respond to Kelce’s calls.

You get in your car, hands shaking as you drive all the way home, not even bothering to park properly.  You kick your shoes in the driveway and throw your bag in a fit of rage.  The light in your porch blinks and you hear the muffled voice of your father calling you but you run off to the slipway, bare feet padding on the wood before you hop on your runabout.

Sofia replaced you.  Rafe hates you.  And that asshole of a guy embarrassed you in front of your friends.

Without a single destination in mind, you speed off into the dark waters.  The wind whipping your face, drying the stream of tears that won’t stop coming.

Rafe was chuckling to a story someone was telling animatedly when Kelce comes and sits next to Topper.  He swigs his beer and downs it in one gulp, some of it dribbling on his chin.

“Whoa, Kelce.”  Rafe says, making Sofia giggle, her hand covering her mouth. 

But Kelce just looks at him before sighing.  “You were supposed to look after Y/N.”  He said. 

“Don’t remember signing up as her babysitter.”  Rafe answers while sending a smirk to Sofia.

Kelce chooses not to answer, shaking his head at Rafe. 

“Did something happen?”  Topper asks in concern, his eyes darting from Rafe to Kelce.

“Yes.”  Kelce says, throwing his hands up in exasperation.  Rafe pauses mid-drink and looks at Kelce with sharp eyes.

“What happened?”  Rafe hissed.

“So now you care?”  Kelce looks at him in disbelief.  “Seriously, man.  You act like you don’t give a fuck about her but go ballistic the second she gets in trouble.  Make up your fucking mind.”

“I was keeping an eye on her, she was with her friends.”  Rafe stands abruptly, not willing to sit for any more stalling.  “Just fucking say it, Kelce!”

Sofia scooted away from Rafe, swallowing nervously at his sudden outburst.

“Whoa, calm down, man.”  Topper stands, ready to mediate any second.  Rafe glares at him and steps over to Kelce who sighs in defeat.

“Some dude was holding her, wouldn't let go.”  Kelce started, Rafe immediately clenched his jaw as he paced, the heel of his palm pressing on his forehead.  “He tried to shoot his shot with her, figured he will since you’re…”  Kelce glances at Sofia.  “Busy.”

Rafe stopped in his tracks and stared hard at Kelce.

“He called Y/N “free game” and humiliated her.”  Kelce shrugs.  “Knocked a tooth outta his filthy mouth.”

Rafe pointed a finger at Kelce as he nodded.  “That’s good, Kelce.  But I need to know where Y/N-”  A buzz in his pocket cuts him off.

It was your father.  Of all the times he could call!

Rafe groans as he jogs to his room to muffle the music and chatter of the party.

“Sir.”  Rafe answers, his knuckle lodged between his teeth. 

He screwed up.

“Son, I thought Y/N would be staying over at your place?  For a party?”

Rafe clears his throat as he slumps over his bed, his back hunched.  “Yes, sir.  That’s the plan.”  Does he know?  Did you tell your father what happened?  Of how much he failed in looking after you while you’re in his own party?

“Well, her car’s back here.  So are her shoes and bag.  Did something happen back there?”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Rafe rubs his forehead.  “Yeah, some misunderstanding, sir.  But it was taken care of.”

“Good to know.  You let me know when you see her.  I’d go out and find her but my boat’s been having problems, it’s being fixed right now.”

“She went out on her boat?”  Rafe clarified as he stood.  “It’s dark out.”

“I know.  That’s what concerns me.”

Rafe shakes his head, his shaking hands pulling at his drawer haphazardly to look for a flashlight.

“I’ll go out and find her, sir.  Me and the boys.”  Rafe reassures him and he hears your father breathe out a sigh of relief.

“I appreciate it, son.”

Topper and Kelce were already at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for him.  Rafe barely spares them a glance as he pushes past the crowd.

“Rafe, where are you going?”  Topper calls from behind him.

“Y/N’s out at sea.”  Rafe shakes his head.  “She always does that when she’s upset.”

Why did you have to do it now? When it’s nearly midnight?

“I can’t reach her.”  Topper says and Rafe clicks his tongue. 

“No service.”  Rafe swore.  “I fucking hate it when she does this stuff.  Fucking impulsive.”  He mutters.

Just another thing that you both have in common.

Topper and Kelce share a glance. 

“Yeah.  How about we split up?”  Topper asks.  “I can take my boat.  Kelce can take his.  Let’s just spread out.”

Rafe pauses his steps.  “Right, let’s do that.  Let me know the moment you see her, alright?”

Topper nods and leaves with Kelce close behind him.

If he had to be honest with you, Rafe is still pissed off from that stunt you pulled at the Country Club and he was trying to teach you a lesson so you’ll think twice about doing it again.  But the vultures came swooping in the moment he let you out of his sight.

Rafe slammed his fist on the Jet Ski in a fit of rage.  You could be anywhere, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try to find you.

Lovesick Little Thing

[luvt0kki]

INTERLUDE | OPENING SEQUENCE

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧ s.w.m masterlist ୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ taglist ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨୧

This scene that locked me up The sequence that's like forever Stay for me, stay for me, stay for me I can't get used to it, used to it, used to it

🎧: Opening Sequence - TXT

previous | INTERLUDE | next

pairings: ot8 x f!reader (san x reader)

w.c : 10k ( im sorry for any errors)

cw: mature, ,minors do not interact, nsfw, reader is afab, slow burn, polyamory, smut , bittersweet, angst, MC's background is inspired by Black Widow's background with the Red Room, reader is called sweet heart/baby, hints of abuse/manipulation, mc’s past, mention of their training days, injuries, scars, loss of virginity, first time, very very very longgggggg chapter I’m sorry

REMINDER: my works do not represent the irl members in any way, this is purely a work of FICTION.

a/n : surprise? SPECIAL CHAPTER!!!! I hope you guys like this one. I didn’t initially plan to write this but after posting chapter 005 I wanted to write something different or something else and this came about. I hope you guys like. Thank you for being so patient with me 🥺💗

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE, OR OTHERWISE REPURPOSE ANY OF MY WORK HERE. I DO NOT NOR WILL ALLOW IT.

“How long do you think before they find us here?”

The young assassin paused, his heart dropping. Never has he ever heard you, YOU, out of all the graduated students of the Academy, sound like this.

You were always so sure of yourself but now, he was hearing a completely different person yet so familiar. When was the last time he heard you like this? He was quick to recall it and that ache in his chest began to feel as if he was burning from the inside. This small, unsure, and weak voice belonged to the little girl he grew up with before the academy changed everything and he never heard you like this again.

Til today.

He was scared to turn around.

If your own resolve was shaking then the situation was worse than he thought.

San shook his head and continued to look around the padded room looking for any signs of a possible escape. Even if you two did get out, you two would have nothing but your knives and your fists.

“No one’s going to come for us, aren’t they Sannie?” You choked out his nickname so softly, that he felt his heart broke. “At the end of the day…” you went on, the fears of a little girl that San had failed to protect breaking through the facade the Academy molded and chiseled you in. “I’m just one of their many weapons. The other girls in the Academy…they’re good. Better. I will be of no use soon.”

San’s hands were beginning to tremble uncontrollably as he reloaded the gun. You were the Academy’s proudest creation, you had set the standard. Though those things were true, these were your fears. They were just as real.

“We’ve sent a Morse code to them. They’ll find us soon. They won’t let you go as easily.” San swallowed the lump in his throat trying to maintain composure and not let the impending doom of you both get to him.

What made him sadder was that he was right. The Academy won’t let you go. You were chained to them in a way, he wasn’t.

“Sannie…”

They could afford to lose him. He was a part of the top three of those who graduated with him but he wasn’t the first of the batch.

“They’ll come for you.”

The room that confined you two was dim. The skylight let some moonlight shine through to illuminate what it could in the darkness you two were submerged in. Did your captors really believe the Academy would buy their ransom for two of their assassins? They would come with a brute force that would leave them nothing in ashes. If no one came for the two of you, they’ll kill you both or worse, sell the two of you off to the market.

San would kill them before they even thought of selling you as a slave.

“Sannie, it’s cold.”

His composure broke then.

Gone was the weapon the Academy created.

Without any hesitation, San went to where you had been sitting (on the white sheet mattress in the room they threw you two in) then pulled you onto his lap with his arms wrapped around you. Your skin was cold to the touch and his desperation to hold you only grew. He cradled you so gently in his arms, scared that if he embraced you tighter you’d shatter.

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered, resting his chin on the top of your head as he kept his gaze up, fighting back tears and the urge to press his lips on the the crown of your head. “I’m here. I'm not going anywhere.”

You were taught to never take anyone’s words seriously. Always doubt them, they once said. Doubt them until they prove it because you can never know what they mean and yet, you believed every word San said.

Every promise he has ever made, he kept them. Everything he said he would do, he did. But even if he didn’t prove to be a man of his word, the part of you that you pushed in the dark, would believe him blindly.

His strong arms held you in a way you never knew you needed to be held and the warmth of his body was giving you, melted away the armor you didn’t have the luxury to take off.

“Sannie,”

He loved it when you called him Sannie. Since you two met, he was your Sannie. If you asked him now, just once, to be yours, he’d be yours forever.

“Yeah?” He caressed your back in gentle circles, taking note of how your shivering lessened and your breathing calmed.

You didn’t continue your thought. It got stuck in your throat. How could you possibly say what you wanted to? Instead, you opted to bury your face into his neck. You’ll think about it for a bit…because what if it was the wrong time to say it?

“Can I hold your hand?”

Your voice was such a soft whisper, that San almost didn’t hear it. It was like you were embarrassed to have even asked, even though he’s held your hand so many times in secret during your training days when it was an evaluation day.

San hummed in response and carefully, still cradling you in his lap with your head leaning on his chest, slipped his hand with yours. He stared at your hands as he did. His hand was bigger than yours and his heart dropped when he realized you had taken off your gloves. Such delicate hands were bruised at the knuckles and hands that only ever touched or brushed him so gently.

He knew in your head you could only see how stained your arms were with blood.

“Your hands are cold,” he pointed out, pouting a little at the fact and like he did when you were younger, he took both your hands and brought them close to his mouth to breathe warmth into them.

You felt your heart thump particularly strong in your chest. The feelings you’ve had for San that you had hidden away because you were told you could never be loved nor love for you were only a weapon, returned.

Because you are a weapon, you would only ever hurt the people you love.

“How are you so warm?” You chuckled, falling into a comfort you denied yourself for so long. “If I remember correctly, you were such a small petite thing when we were younger. I was afraid you wouldn’t make it past the selection.”

He laughed softly at the memory. “I didn’t want to be left behind. I need to be with you no matter what.” He let himself speak freely and honestly, letting his hands warm yours.

“I would’ve purposely failed if that was the case. I wouldn’t want to continue on without you.” You admitted, feeling the ache of your muscles finally hit you.

“They would’ve known if you did.”

“That’s true.”

“I would catch up to you no matter what. To be by your side…” San paused, afraid to say what he wanted to in fear that you may not feel the same. “For a long time, I believe that’s where I belong.”

His words caught you off guard. Did Sannie know? Did he know that you loved him? There was no way he could but the possibility of attraction between the two of you could not be ruled out so easily. It was there. You both knew it. You two just never spoke of it.

“Do you still believe that?” You asked, feeling a little braver and desperate.

What if this was it? It had been four days since the enemy got the upper hand and immobilized you and San and sealed you two up in this room. What if the Academy did abandon you both? Weapons are replaceable.

“I’m here with you now, aren’t I?”

He’s always been there.

You lifted your head off his shoulder to gaze up at him.

Gone was the little boy you worried about whenever you two trained separately. The one who was easily thrown and bullied around by his much stronger contenders. You were afraid of losing him even then because you had wondered why someone with such a gentle heart could ever hurt people. For goodness sake, he continued to let himself get beaten up just because one of the much younger trainees out of desperation and hunger, stole a piece of roasted sweet potato.

Before you now was a man. San still had the handsomeness he’s had since he was younger except it matured and bloomed into sharp features and a striking beauty that lost all the softness of his younger self. His body was no longer frail and sickly. His back and shoulders became broad, lean muscles had grown and given him more shape that reminded you of the prowess of a black panther.

But when he smiled.

He was the Sannie you cared for and loved so deeply…so quietly.

“Can you promise me something?” You asked, feeling your heart begin to ache.

“Anything for you.” He smiled softly down at you and you wished he hadn’t because it’d made your heart want him even more.

“If we get out of this alive…” you felt tears begin to form in your eyes. “Promise me you’ll leave the academy.”

“Y/N—,” he began to protest, sitting up a little bit you shushed him gently and changed your positions.

You cupped his face gently with your hands and looked straight into his eyes.

“When we get out of here, you need to disappear. Leave this life behind.”

San has never seen you cry since the Selection. Your eyes which were usually blank and cold, and that only ever warmed when you looked at him were glassy with tears and there was fear in them. Pure fear and hurt.

“P-please, Sannie. Leave the Academy.”

Why were you asking him something so difficult?

“You deserve more than this life. You should be able to live freely and to love freely. Leave all this behind. Leave me behind.” You were begging him now, your hot tears falling onto his beautiful face. His eyes were so gentle as they looked up at you.

“Don’t ask me of this, Y/N.” He tried to be stern to mask the breaking of his heart. “You know I can’t do that!” He wrapped his arms around your waist. “I can’t. I can’t…I can’t.” His voice was trembling, both your fears breaking you down.

“Do it for me, Sannie.” You wiped his tears away with your thumbs, fighting the urge to kiss the beauty mark on his upper cheek. “If one of us gets to be free, it should be you.”

“That’s not fair, Y/N.” He grabbed you by the back of your neck while his other hand brought your leg to be able to wrap around him, consumed by the need to be close to you. He pressed your forehead against his.

“We both deserve to live. If we’re talking about who should be free, it should be you.” He said through gritted teeth, still not letting all his composure go. How could you think so little of your life? “You’re not a weapon.”

He took your hand and placed it over where his heart would be. “We both have hearts that beat. We both have tears to cry. You breathe just like I do. You feel just like I do…you can love just like I do.”

San’s words echoed in your head, they rang like an alarm as those words breached the codes that the Academy programmed into you.

You couldn’t think straight. None of you could.

‘You can love just like I do.’

Could you, really?

Your bleary eyes searched San’s glimmering onyx orbs. You were scared to find nothing but conviction and such surety that made you believe him that you could. The hope in his eyes frightened you.

You didn’t know how to love. You only assumed to know that love was a precious emotion you could never have. The Academy said love was a weakness but all the training and programming they did, seemed to not exist at this very moment. Neither did it for San.

Well in his case, you had always been his exception to every rule. He’d break rules, laws, and bones for you.

“I don’t know if I can,” you sobbed softly. The fact you don’t even know how to love makes you feel as if you weren’t human.

Love was different from lust. You knew that. Everyone, even those under the Academy, had needs and everyone was left to handle it themselves as long as it didn’t compromise their abilities or get in the way of missions.

To put it simply, they just fucked for the feeling of it.

But no one touched you. You wouldn’t let it happen. You couldn’t. The other girls were nice enough to tell you how to do it yourself and you wondered if San has ever needed to get those needs out of the way…and the thought of who it could’ve been with made your chest ache at the thought.

“You can.” He smiled, so soft and gentle, it made you wonder if anyone else in the galaxy could look at you that way. So fondly and not the monster and killer you really were.

San held your hand that was against his heart tightly, still smiling up at you so sweetly you didn’t think you could handle that look. It was so foreign to you.

“Y/N, if you’ll let me,” San didn’t care anymore. If you two were going to die tomorrow and if he was going to do as you made him promise, he’d hold you and speak as if this was his last night in this life. “Let me make you feel. It doesn’t have to be love. But please, let me make you truly feel.”

You knew you could say no and it would be okay. All your time in the Academy, you realized the only time you ever felt safe was when you were with San. You didn’t have to keep your guard up with him and you didn’t have to lie to him.

Throwing all caution out the window and focusing on San, just him, you exhaled softly, unaware that you had been holding your breath.

“O-okay.” You held his face softly once more, telling yourself he was real. That he was here, he had never left you not once and he wouldn’t leave you til you told him to. “P-please Sannie.” Your voice quivered. “I want to feel alive.”

“Don’t cry, my darling,” he cooed, wiping your tears away. “You know I’ll do anything for you, right?”

You nodded, letting yourself enjoy the soft touch of his hands in your hair and on your face, and the warmth of his embrace.

“Can I kiss you?”

You felt heat bloom in your cheeks at the question. San knew you’d never been kissed. Well, he knew because first of all, he was your closest friend in the Academy and you told him everything, and secondly, he may or may not have scared off anyone else who wanted to.

“O-okay.” You’ve never felt so shy.

“I won’t ever hurt you, Y/N.” He leaned closer, your heart racing you felt as if it was going to jump out of your chest. “With everything I am and as long as I’m around, I won’t let anything hurt you.”

Your lips parted the slightest bit as his sweet words overwhelmed you with a sensation you’ve only ever felt in tingles whenever you were with him and now they were bursts of warmth that radiated throughout your body.

The plumpness of your lips and that innocent and pure way you gazed at home made him lose all his resolve. Softly as if handling the finest and most fragile porcelain, he pressed his lips against yours, their softness and their warmth, and the closeness of it all, made him feel as if the world had stopped.

You didn’t know what to do but when his lips gently moved against yours, a part of you made you do the same. It’s like your body needed to reciprocate his actions naturally. Maybe it was because you had thought about kissing him and wondered about it late at night til your face was hot and you were flustered at the imagination of what it’d feel to be closer to Sannie in a different way…

Gently, San helped you sit comfortably on his lap, supporting your back as he kissed you, tasting the sweetness of your lips that had a hint of metallic taste from the small cut on your lower lip. He’d kiss away all your cuts and bruises if you’d let him. He’d kiss them to make you forget the pain.

San was still holding back though.

He didn’t want to do anything you didn’t want.

But the way you had begun to kiss him back with the same need as he did, only made it harder for him to not lose himself.

Pulling away reluctantly, he looked at you. Your pretty lashes fluttered so prettily as you blinked dreamily at him, your lips were a glistening pink and your cheeks were glowing.

What made San fall even harder in that moment was the way you shyly looked away when he had been staring.

“Sannie…” you murmured, squeezing his shoulders nervously and completely aware that you were sitting on his lap, straddling him.

You just had your first kiss. San had just kissed you.

“Can I touch you?”

You felt your ears grow hot. “Aren’t you already?” You murmured. His hands were already on your waist and when they weren’t there they were in your hair or caressing your face.

“Let me rephrase that,” He chuckled and pressed his lips onto the corner of your mouth. “Can I…” he kissed your cheek, each kiss making warmth bloom wherever they touched you. “Touch…” He caressed the curve of your spine, your lower back tingling at the gentle touch. “All of you?”

“Y-yes.” You had uttered out so quickly and softly, that you felt embarrassed. You didn’t even think twice.

“You can touch me too,” San began to kiss along the column of your neck, the sensation making you shiver. “You can touch me however you want, Y/N.” He gripped your hips just a little bit tighter, enjoying the way you cutely squirmed.

“Sannie,” you softly called out to him, making him part from your neck which he had been kissing and licking.

His brows rose at your call, waiting for whatever you needed to say but in all honesty, you just needed to feel his lips on yours again.

So without a word, you cradled San’s handsome face in both hands before crashing your lips onto his, surprising not only him but also yourself at how greedy you had become. You didn’t know you could feel such sensations and the kiss just sparked a flame you never knew could come alive, and now that it was lit, it began to burn.

“T-touch me,” you whispered desperately between kisses, his own lips hungrily kissing you back.

San felt as if he was dreaming when those words slipped past your lips and even more so how prettily you moaned when caressed the underside of your breast with his thumb. He was surprised with how sensitive you were. You were still in your cat suit and yet you reacted so quickly to his touch.

His lips and your lips messily danced with desperation to drink each other's heat and passion. Your own hands had begun to tug at his armored protective suit while he also made quick work of your catsuit. San not wanting to leave the warmth of your lips, took his time to unzip the front of your suit. He wanted to be gentle with you despite the lust that was burning him from the inside out he just wanted to feel you and make you feel.

His lips finally left yours only to attack your neck with hot kisses, making you moan out softly. Gently he laid you on the worn-out mattress, parting from you completely so he could kneel between your thighs. Your eyes remained on him as he removed his protective vest, discarding it somewhere in the room before he peeled off his long sleeve over his head. His muscular chiseled body was illuminated by the moonlight, every ridge and ripple of muscle was accentuated by the shadows of the room. You felt a familiar heat pool in your lower body the more you stared at San’s physique and you blushed and turned away when he caught you staring.

The edge of San’s mouth twitched into a small smile, finding your timidness to be rather adorable. He liked how flustered you became because of him. San reached for your hips to pull you closer, your eyes widening when he did.

San found the zipper of your catsuit again, his heart thrumming in his chest as he slowly pulled it down. His breathing grew heavy as yours quickened with how the suit slowly opened revealing glimpses of your naked skin beneath. The rise and fall of your chest along with the sight of the valley of your breasts and hints of your body before him, made his throat dry.

He wanted to take his time but at the same time, his long infatuation that had turned to something more over the years made it difficult.

When the cold air kissed your bare skin, you felt your nipples pebble and harden against the fabric of the suit, making you want to rub your thighs together but that was impossible when San was knelt between your thighs.

“Can I keep going?” He asked you, pausing the pull of your zipper before it could go lower than your belly button. He searched for any uneasiness in your eyes but instead, he found such a sweet yet sinful look in them.

You nodded. “Y-yes, please.”

Gently, he helped you slip your arms out of the suit, his breath hitching at the sight of your bare pretty breasts bouncing free as he bunched the specialized Kevlar-like fabric at your waist. His palms were at least a micro-centimeter away from your skin. Almost afraid and hesitant to truly feel you. An assassin without their suit was just as deadly as them having one but with you, he felt as if without it, you were just a woman. A woman who wanted to be loved…a woman he loved.

Kissing you drove him crazy enough but to get to touch you? He’s going to crumble.

It seemed you had noticed his hesitation and driven by your silent desire, you took his hand and splayed fingers and pressed his palm over the middle of your chest, close to where your heart would be.

You didn’t say a word as his eyes snapped to meet yours. All it told him was that this was consensual, that you wanted him to touch you, and that he could keep going.

If this was truly yours and his last night in this world, none of you wanted to hold back.

“Sannie…” his heart stopped when you softly called out his name. Your eyes looked into his as if he brought you peace, there was no turmoil nor anxiety in them. The cold and dark blankness that they held when you’re on a mission or on Academy grounds was absent.

Right here, before him was just you. The young girl he once knew that the Academy caged and programmed to be a weapon in their beck and call, a woman who did not have the time to love or be loved, nor was allowed to. But if you were to tell him you were incapable of loving, he’d prove to you that you were wrong.

Maybe you didn’t know it then but the compassion you had shown him during your trainee days when he was nothing but the runt of the litter of kids with no future chosen by the Academy to be given a chance, that in its own way was love.

The way you stuck by him, took time to check if he was okay and to defend him from higher ranking assassins, even if it was platonic or more, it was love.

You slipped your fingers into his, intertwining them.

“Keep going.”

There was a hint of sadness in your smile despite the way you looked so longingly at him as if he were the warm shining sun.

He continued to unravel you. Gently, he rolled the fabric to slip past your hips. Despite your line of work, your skin was close to perfect in his eyes. No deep scars nor wounds that left a memory of your missions plus the Academy took good care of their favorites.

But the sight before him proved him wrong.

His heart dropped into his stomach and he felt your hand squeeze his.

Below your belly button and not fully hidden by the waistband of your black underwear, a long jagged scar curved along your lower abdomen. The scar was healed but it left its mark. It sickly smiled at him in a deeper shade than your complexion with pinkish hues.

“W-what is this?” He held your hip gently, his thumb caressing your hipbone afraid to touch that area skin, should you not like it.

He felt his heart break when you only looked at him sadly. “Y/N, w-what is this?” He croaked out hoarsely, his heart breaking when you looked at him that way and continued to hold his hand in yours.

“My graduation.”

The world stopped and he heard nothing but a dull ringing in his ears.

The Academy.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it didn’t matter. Why should I speak of something that I could never get back.”

“D-don’t talk like that. Y/N you should’ve told me.”

You sat up, heart breaking when you heard his voice crack. San didn’t even realize that tears were falling from his eyes as he stared at that mocking smiling scar. Just when he thought the Academy couldn’t take any more from you, they took everything.

Well, almost everything. But not him. They were not taking him away from you. Never.

“Sannie, don’t cry.” You smiled, wiping his tears away. “I didn’t tell you 'cause I knew you’d cry.” You took a deep breath, finally telling your closest friend of so many years the secret you’ve kept from him. “This is why you should leave the Academy and live a life you truly deserve. You have a chance for a future you want. Mine…well…mine was taken from me. It was a silly dream I had when we were kids.”

“When we spent time around the towns and I’d see people getting married and having families, I thought I could have that. I thought I was going to marry you and have a family. At twelve years old.” You laughed softly at the childhood memory. “At twelve years old, I looked at you, my best friend, and thought ‘I’m going to marry San’ and that we’re going to be as happy as the families I’ve seen. That I would have a child and give them the life I never had…but then the Academy happened.”

San’s tears streamed down his handsome face and you held his face in your hands once more, making him look at you.

“I don’t want to think about that tonight. I don’t want to think about what I went through to stay alive.” You leaned down to kiss his jaw and your breath was hot against his ear as you uttered words that shattered his heart even more. “So don’t touch me like I’m made of glass. You can’t break something that’s already broken. Make me forget, Sannie.”

You kissed him again then took his hand that was on your hip and guided it to cup your breast, your body tingling and warming at the touch. The simple gesture told him one thing. Throw caution out the window. Nothing else mattered now except you and him. If both of you were going to die tomorrow, you both wanted to feel love and act on desires that both of you held back on.

Driven by the love he harbored for you for so long, he attacked your neck with heated kisses and caressed your bare torso with such a need to feel your skin.

Your warmth and your scent, he could die in it.

Sloppily, he licked and nibbled at the juncture of your neck and shoulder before going lower, and hungrily taking the soft peak of your breast into his hot mouth.

You gasped and moaned at the sudden and new sensation, your body tingling over and your hips mindlessly grinding on San’s thigh. You shivered at the spark of friction and loosely wrapped your arms around his head, your fingers combing through his hair as his tongue flicked and swirled over your sensitive nipple while his other hand gave your other breast attention. He squeezed and massaged them just as greedy as his mouth was latched onto your right tit.

Soon, clothes were haphazardly thrown away and you were on your back completely on display for San’s eyes and his eyes only. The coldness of the room was forgotten as your bodies began to burn with lust and yours continued to grow hotter as he kissed along your inner thigh, his slit cat-like predatory gaze never leaving your face.

Your thigh was hooked over his left shoulder and San took his time kissing your soft plush thighs, nipping and biting where he wanted and enjoying the way you squirmed and trembled. But when he came face to face with your pretty pink pussy before him, he felt like he could cum untouched.

His gaze was hot as he stared at your core and you wanted to close your thighs but it was impossible with San’s position. He rested his hand over your lower belly as he licked his lips.

“You’re dripping,” he said lowly, eying your slick pink folds and your little pulsing hole that pushed more arousal out the more he teased you. He brushed his thumb over your clit and your hips bucked.

Fuck, he swore to himself. You were so sensitive.

Biting his lip, he collected your arousal and messily spread it all over your cunt. You could feel the warm sticky slick over your skin and you only grew more needy for his touch. You’ve touched yourself plenty of times when you needed to…but it was different when it was someone else, it was different that it was San.

“Fuck,” he hissed softly, feeling how wet you were and how easily his thumb was able to circle around your sensitive clit, enjoying the reactions he was eliciting from you. “Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

You nodded, shamelessly.

“Have you ever been touched here?” He asked, wondering if you were like the other assassins who deal with their desires by sleeping with another assassin. If you answered yes, he’d be jealous. He’s already jealous at the thought of someone else being as close as he was to you right now.

But your answer was more than he expected.

“N-no. Just me.” You breathily replied, biting back a moan when he pressed a little more as he massaged your clit in slow languid circles.

“Yeah? Just you? All alone?”

“Mhm Hm.” You bit your lip, your hips bucking into his hand for more.

You were driving him crazy. He was imagining you touching yourself in your room. Pretty little hand in your panties playing with yourself underneath the covers and biting back your moans like you were right now.

“You know…there’s something better than just your fingers,” he inched closer, his breath fanning over your pussy, the heat of it making you clench around nothing. He hooked his arms underneath your thighs to hold you down and keep your hips still.

“Your fingers?” You guessed, blinking at him and watching his every move. You found it rather embarrassing that he was this close to your intimate area.

“Definitely,” he chuckled at your response. “But not that, sweetheart.” He kissed the top of your pubic bone. “Something even better.”

Before you could ask what, his pink tongue peeked from his lips and licked a long stripe from your dripping hole and up your clit. You moaned at the feeling, squirming in his hold. Not one second did his eyes leave yours, the intensity of them made you need him more, and when he slowly flicked his tongue around your clit, tasting you, the pleasure went straight to your head.

“A-ah, Sannie,” you gasped but it didn’t end there.

As he had done with your breast, he latched his hot lips onto your core and began tasting you.

San moaned against your pussy at the sweet taste of your cunt, slurping and hungrily licking at your arousal as if he didn’t want to let a single drop go to waste.

It was downright dirty. Pornographic.

He kissed and made out with your core like he had with your lips. You never knew that you could feel such mind-numbing pleasure like this. His tongue was so hot and his lips were so soft, and just when you thought it couldn’t get better, you felt the tip of his finger tease your entrance.

It was almost too much.

You gripped his dark hair and tugged when you felt him slip a digit inside of you. His finger was thicker than yours, longer too. A rush of arousal washed over you when you heard him moan against your pussy when you pulled his hair.

“You’re so wet, fuck. You taste so good.” He briefly left your clit then licked at the pearl before saying. “My finger slipped in so easily, sweetheart. I think you can take another one already. Can’t you?”

“Y-yes. San, please. I-I need more. Please.” You panted breathlessly. Just as you asked, he delivered.

He added another finger into your hole, slowly slipping them in and losing his fucking mind at how tight you were sucking his digits in. He could only imagine how heavenly it must feel when it was his cock instead.

“So fucking tight, sweetheart.” He bit his lip, slowly beginning to pump his fingers in and out of you, his fingers completely covered in your slick. “You like that, darling? Love how my fingers are filling you up?”

You nodded, gripping the mattress below you as your hips moved on their own, and words you’ve never thought you’d say out loud slipped past your lips. “W-want to feel you deeper. M-more please.”

San could only smile at your reaction before he latched his mouth again onto your clit while fingers curled inside of you. You swore at how easily he found that spot you desperately tried to find on your own in the privacy of your room. His fingers were thicker and your chaste walls welcomed them so easily. The way he touched you and pleasured you felt so good, you didn’t care about the lewd squelching sounds your pussy made as he fucked his fingers into you. You could even feel your arousal drip from your hole and onto the mattress.

His eyes were peacefully closed shut as he tasted you. It was as if he was savoring every single bit of you and this kind of attention was making a familiar warmth bloom in your chest.

“S-San, w-wait, I-I’m,” you stuttered out, feeling your core tighten, the familiar sensation of being on that edge far more intense than when you touched yourself alone.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s okay,” he murmured against your core, releasing your overstimulated clit with a soft wet pop. “Cum for me. Be a good girl and cum for me.”

Something about what he said and how he flicked his tongue against your clit as his fingers mercilessly pumped and curled inside of you, sent you over the edge. You gasped as your hips trembled and your walls convulsed around his fingers, your climax making you shake and your mind go blank momentarily.

San hummed deeply, the vibration of the sound along with how he slowly lapped your release and moved his lips as he did, made some part of your brain melt.

He couldn’t get enough and he quite literally was acting as if this was his last meal on earth.

“S-Sannie, wait—ah!” He prolonged your organs with his lazy kisses and languid kitten licks.

Once he had gotten enough (though he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough), he parted from your lower lips to look at you through hooded eyes full of hunger and lust. It made your heart race.

With his eyes locked on yours, he thought his two fingers that had been inside of your heat to his lips and licked your essence off of it, a sudden heat passing through your body at the visual.

“You taste like heaven, sweetheart.” He moaned deeply, taking his time to taste you on his fingers.

“H-how about you?” You asked, your voice breathy and higher than its usual tone.

He caressed your thighs, lovingly as you came down from your high. “What about me sweetheart?”

Your hands caressed his toned stomach, tracing the lines of his abs and stopping before the waistband of his briefs.

“Do I get to taste you?”

San’s cock throbbed at your question that sounded so innocent from your lips. He wants to make this all about you but you were making it difficult for him to not be selfish and focus on making you feel good.

Still lightheaded from your orgasm, you sat up and crawled to San, the man before you gulping at the visual of you on your knees and seeing the beautiful shape of your back, it was like looking at a cat. You knelt by him, meeting his height before placing your hands on his shoulders and moving him to sit on the mattress with his back against the wall.

“I want to taste you, Sannie.” You purred, sitting a top of your folded legs, his own legs spread to make room for you.

He raised a brow watching you, amused at your actions. Even like this, he looked so attractive.

San smiled softly at you and caressed your cheek as you looked at him with round wide eyes. “Are you sure, sweetheart?”

You nodded, experimentally teasing the imprint of his length in his briefs. His breath hitched at the mere touch of your fingertips, his excitement making his thighs tense.

“Teach me how?” You looked at him through your lashes and the sweet determined look you had turned him on even more.

You were rather shy that you asked him to show you but little did you know, that just sent his mind places. Was he really your first?

Curiously, you palmed his length making a shaky breath leave him. “Did that feel good Sannie?”

“F-fuck… y-yes. It felt good sweetheart.”

“Can I take it off?” You tugged at the waistband lightly and he nodded eagerly.

You pulled down his boxers and once the garment was down past his hips, his cock sprung free from its confines. It slapped against his hard abdomen and you felt your mouth water at the sight.

Not knowing what it’d do to him, you slowly wrapped your hand around his length to gauge his size and San hissed at the warmth of your soft palm. He was hot and stiff, and the pink head was glistening with a slick liquid. With your other hand, your fingertips spread his precum all over the bulbous round tip.

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re torturing me.” He groaned the more you massaged this sensitive tip.

You felt your core tingle at the sight of his furrowed brows and his parted lips as you touched him. You wanted to make him feel good too.

“What do you want me to do, Sannie?” Your voice was so sweet.

“F-fuck, baby, spit on it a-and then wrap your pretty hand around me, okay?” His hand gently cupped the back of your neck.

A little hesitant but doing as he said, you spat on his cock, and the dirty sound and act of it made his cock twitch. You were guessing that you should spread it around and when he hummed, it told you, you were doing something right.

“Such a good girl, sweetheart.” He cooed. “Now wrap your hand around me. Fuuuck. Just like that.”

Feeling excited with all the praise he was giving, you kissed his neck slowly, doing as he did to you earlier.

“M-move your hand up and down, sweetheart.”

“O-okay.”

Your saliva mixed with his precum gave lubrication for you to easily glide your hand up and down his shaft.

“That’s it, baby. That feels so good. Fuck.” He moaned. “Come here, let me kiss you.”

You do as he says and kiss with his, moving your lips with his, and your core clenched when you could taste a sweet yet slightly salty flavor on your lips. Was that you? The fact you were tasting yourself on his lips turned you on.

The two of you stayed like that; making out while your hand pumped his cock, feeling his girth and his length. You couldn’t help but wonder how he’d feel inside of you but you wanted to taste him first like you said.

You pulled away from his lips and they pouted at the loss of them but he couldn’t stay disappointed for long, not when your tongue just did a kitten lick on his sensitive tip.

“Fuck, sweetheart, are you really sure?” He moaned, not wanting to force you. He was happy enough that you had been jerking him off. You really didn’t have to return the favor if you didn’t want to.

“Mhm.” You hummed, following your instincts and taking his leaking tip in your mouth, while your hand continued to move up and down his shaft.

His taste made your head spin and your clit throb. You liked the taste of him, it was a little salty but it was just him.

“Shit-,” he threw his head back, his other hand gripping the mattress as you licked and suckled at his tip. “That feels so good. Fuck. Don’t stop. Such a good girl using your pretty mouth on me. Do I taste good?”

You hummed so cutely as a yes. God, he’d do anything for you. How were you this cute?

“Do you think you can take more of my cock in your mouth? You think you can take it?”

His dirty talk made you even wetter and you were sure that you were dripping at this point.

Could you take it? There was only one way to find out.

Breathing through your nose and flattening out your tongue, you slipped his cock deeper almost choking when the hot tip touched the back of your throat but you against your gag reflex and tried to mimic what your hand had been doing. You slowly moved your head up and down, bobbing rhythmically on his cock.

San moaned breathily. This was your first time taking cock in your mouth? “You’re a fucking natural, baby. Fuck. That feels good. You look so pretty like this. Could cum just watching you.”

What you couldn’t take in your mouth, you made up for with your hand, earning more moans from San. You liked this. You liked making him feel good. You liked having his cock inside your mouth, you wanted to taste more than his cock.

You wanted more.

“Fuck,” he swore when he felt you bravely take a little deeper, feeling the way the start of your throat constricted at the intrusion of his cock. “Sweetheart, if you keep doing that—,”

You bobbed your head faster, not caring that you were making such lewd slurping and sucking sounds. He had done the same for you and at that moment you understood why he had enjoyed tasting you.

San’s thighs began to clench and his core tightened further. His knuckles were turning white at how hard he was gripping the mattress in one hand while the other grabbed your ass, making you yelp and take more of him deeper in your throat, which pushed him over the edge.

There was a cute surprised squeak that came from you which was the cherry on top of him spilling his load inside your mouth. Your eyes widened as you felt his hot release go down your throat and they fluttered close as you savored the taste of him.

San was losing it when he felt your throat move as you swallowed his cum. He didn’t know you were going to do that. What’s making his head spin further and making his hazy orgasmic bliss last longer was how you kept him inside your mouth, just the tip, and licking the slit of his cock head.

You pulled away, his cock falling on his stomach, still hard and you sat so cutely in between his legs as he panting and coming down from his high.

You wiped the edge of your mouth and licked what was left of him on your lips.

“Sannie tastes good.”

You didn’t know you had said that out loud in such a soft manner that made San swoon.

San like a cat, pounced on you.

He was once again all over you. Your back was against the mattress as he found his place between your thighs. You eyed his cock, still hard and glistening from when it had been in your mouth. Your walls clenched when San wrapped his own hand around his pretty cock and pressed the head against your clit making you whimper.

San rubbed the tip of his cock through your slit, spreading your slick and coating himself with it. You were so drenched that it was driving him crazy, he wanted to bury his cock deep inside you so bad but when his eyes met the long scar smiling from one hip bone to the other. He wanted to take his time. For you.

“Y/N,” he said softly, holding your hips with care. Even though you told him that he couldn’t break what was broken, he wouldn’t want to think of breaking you. In fact, he wanted to make you feel full, whole, and complete. He wanted to care for you in a way you deserved. “Am I your first?”

The sudden question threw you off. It made you realize that he was going to be your first. Concepts like those shouldn’t matter to you especially since you didn’t have the time to think of such a thing.

“Y-yes…” you admitted, relaxing a little. “You’re the first person to ever kiss me too. I want you to be my first, Sannie.” Your heart was aching while your body burned for him. “And if this is our last night alive, I wouldn’t have imagined anyone else being my first and my last. I’m glad…it’s you.”

San didn’t know if this was the right time to say the three words he’d been dying to say to you for so long. “For me…” he slowly moved his hips, rubbing his length between your slick folds, making your face relax into that flushed blissful expression.

“It’s always been you.”

You didn’t have time to think or question what that meant. Not when the tip of his cock teased at your entrance, just pressing against it.

Slowly, he let the head pop inside your cunt, both of you gasping. The girth of his cock stretched you out more than you could ever with your two fingers and there was a slight sting as he entered, making you bite your lip and whimper.

But he was attentive.

San intertwined his fingers with yours while his other hand held your hip still as he slowly, little by little, inch by inch, pushed his cock deeper into your tight wet heat. The velvety warmth of your walls made his head spin and the way they hugged his cock was heaven. The carnal part inside of him wanted nothing more than to thrust deeply into you and have you falling apart for him.

“S-Sannie, m-more.”

He growled lowly. Despite this being your first time, the wetness of your heat made his cock slip in so easily. Both of you watched as his cock split your lower lips apart and how his length slowly disappeared into you. You were bewildered that San was inside of you. You never knew just how badly you wanted to be close to him until tonight.

The circumstances were dire, it was hopeless but you had him.

“I want to feel more.” You squeezed his hand as he pushed his hips a little further. “Y-you’re so thick.”

San must be dreaming.

You brought your free hand over your mouth as the sensation of being filled up was such a pleasure you’ve never felt before. It was too much and not enough at the same time.

“You’re taking me so well, sweetheart. You’re doing so well.”

He cooed and praised you for each inch you took of him and there was something about the heat of him inside you, spreading apart your chaste walls that made your thighs shiver as he bottomed out.

San let out a long exhale, cursing as he felt his whole length be snuggly embraced by your velvety warm walls. He could even feel your arousal coat him and drip out of your entrance. He was ascending. He was the closest he could ever get to the person he’s only ever seen as the love of his life.

You looked so beautiful before him. How could you be so bashful yet exuding such allure? Your hand squeezed his as you adjusted to his cock inside of you, he could even feel the way your walls squeeze and contracted as you did. Fuck. He was your first. The first man to ever have the privilege to be this close to you, to feel you, and to see you in a state so vulnerable that you hid from everyone.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” San asked, massaging your hips to help you relax. You were squeezing him so tight. “Does it hurt?”

His sweet voice and the care in them made your heart crack. What did you do to deserve someone like Choi San?

“N-not really. It’s just…new.” You whimpered when the head of his cock that was in your mouth earlier was snug against your cervix. “I-I can feel you.”

That made San’s head spin. “Y-yeah?”

“Mhm.” You nodded, holding his hand and looking into his eyes. “I…feel…you.”

Each word held so much weight and emotion that San couldn’t stop himself from leaning down and crashing his lips on yours. He could feel you too and he loved the feeling of you. He drew his hips back just a little, slowly giving you shallow thrusts to get you used to him. You gasped at the sensation of his cock gliding and scraping your walls, the friction so sinfully and mind-numbingly good.

San continued to kiss you, his tongue delving into your warm wet mouth, the two of you kissing messily as his cock eased its way out of your walls leaving only the tip in. You squirmed. The first taste of the motion of his length inside you sparked a rush that felt addicting and when he easily slid back into you again, it confirmed that growing addiction.

“S-Sannie!” You cried out, arms wrapping around him, holding onto him as he stroked your walls deeply.

“F-fuck, Y/N, you feel so good.” He groaned, burying his face into your neck, kissing the spots he hadn’t marked with love bites.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, your lust mixing with greed as you needed more of the feeling that San was giving you. You’ve never felt so much in your time of being alive. It was new. It was something you never had before.

The deep passionate rolls of hips with every intention to make you feel pleasure, the hot kisses on your neck, the sweet nothings he’d whisper, and the gentle caresses on your body. It made you dizzy, you’ve never lost yourself in something so…euphoric.

As San continued to glide his cock in and out of your tight heat, with his forehead against your chest, his eyes met that scar on below your belly once more, his heart aching. Why did they take that away from you? It was so cruel of them.

His emotions were all mixed up. You two might not live to see another day after this night and the two of you acting on your emotions and passions that had been suppressed for so long were both overwhelming. Plus the truth of what happened to you during your Academy days hurt him.

All he knew was he wanted to you to feel all of him. To make you feel his love and desire for you with every touch, every kiss, and every strong drive of his hips.

The passion and the way you two had been showing it to one another became more carnal as the lust muddled both your brains with nothing but unspoken love and the need to just fuck.

San’s hips picked up their pace. He thrusted and drove into you so deeply, each scrape and glide of his length inside you made his fat cock head kiss your cervix and pound into that one spot that sent you shivering and moaning.

San liked those sounds of yours. Accompanied by the lewd wet squelching and the sound of skin slapping against skin, it was driving him crazy.

“You feel that, sweetheart?” He placed his palm just below where your scar was, where he was fucking you. “That’s me.”

“C-can feel you, Sannie! Oh god,” you cried out, nails digging into his back. You could feel him waking up every fiber of your being with pleasure. “Want to feel more of you. D-don’t stop, please. Want you. I want you.” You were rambling mindlessly too lost in the pleasure, too lost in the heat of his thick cock filling you up.

“I won’t stop, baby. Can’t stop. I need you so bad. You need me to right? Fuck,” he felt you squeeze him tighter. “I’ll make you feel good, Y/N.” He moved his palm lower to find your sensitive pearl all puffy and sticky with your arousal.

Your back arched into him as he massaged your clit.

“You look so beautiful,” he whispered, fucking you til you both get your fill. Even if you both came now, he doesn’t think he’ll have enough of you. He wanted to fuck you so passionately. He wanted to drink what he could of you as this might just be your last night together. “Are you close, sweetheart?”

“Y-yes!” You croaked out, panting with each thrust of his cock. “W-wanna cum, Sannie. P-please.”

“Don’t worry, pretty. I’ll make you cum. I’ll fucking make you cum.” He growled, his hips picking up their pace. Your mouth fell open. The new pace had his cock hitting your g-spot at such a rapid pace you couldn’t think at all. All you knew was you wanted him to keep fucking you.

“H-harder. Need to feel you deeper.” You whined, hugging him close and your words only made the man before you go feral.

The snap of his hips shook your whole body with pleasure that only crescendoed your bliss further into euphoria. That tight knot within your tummy was reaching its limit. With how San was moaning and groaning against your neck, and how his fingers on your clit glided so easily with your slick was sending you over the edge.

You chanted his name over and over so breathlessly, your nails digging deeper into San’s back.

Snap!

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as your walls clamped down around San, your thighs and hips convulsing uncontrollably as pleasure swooped through your body. You couldn’t help the way your nails clawed down his back which made the man before you moan brokenly as his hips stilled and glued against you.

Heat began to fill your walls and your womb as you came hard. San’s thigh muscles were taut as he emptied what he could into you. It was driving him crazy. Your walls were sucking him in a way where his cum just kept flowing til he had nothing more to give you.

“S-Sa—,” you didn’t have to finish calling out for him before he leaned forward to capture your lips. The kiss was slow and lingering…it was gentle and deep.

“I’ve got you,” he said briefly leaving the kiss to take a moment to straighten his back to look at you before him.

You were glowing. Your beautiful skin was covered with a thin sheen of sweat that made you glisten beneath the moonlight and your face was flushed. Your eyes looked up at him hazily, blinking prettily as you were still in your high. His eyes then drifted to where the two of you were still connected. Your puffy lips were split around his cock and you couldn’t help but look down there too.

Slowly, he slid himself out inch by inch. You whimpered at the loss of fullness but when you saw the pink cock head slip out and his length slam against his abdomen coated in your slick and pearly white release? Your walls clenched around nothing. With his thumb, he pulled one of your lower lips gently to get a good look at your pink pussy and his eyes darkened once more when he saw his cum leak out your pulsing hole.

San spread his release all over your pussy, his cat-like eyes curious and staring deeply at where he ‘marked’ you in his way.

“M-more.”

Did he imagine that?

“S-Sannie,” you spread your lips apart for him, making him swallow the lump in his throat. His eyes went to your face, his head spinning when you looked at him with such want and need. Could you look at him like that forever? “M-more. Need to feel you more.”

With San….you never had to ask him twice.

With the same passion and desire as he did earlier if not more, he was on you again. This time the two of you didn’t care about being gentle. You two were desperate for one another. Utterly desperate.

Then you found yourself locked against San with his arm around your waist, your back pressing against his body as he fucked deeply into you without thought. Your bodies were sticky as your shared heat kept you both hot, the cold forgotten as he pounded into you.

You moaned over and over for him, the sound a beautiful melody to his ears.

“I-I don’t think I can stop.” He rasped against your ear, slamming his pelvis against your ass filling your cunt up to the brim with his cock. “I don’t want to stop,” San growled while you cried as he slammed particularly deep, the new position making him reach that spongy spot inside you so fucking easily.

He’s gonna make love to you til you both are absolutely spent. Til he was empty and til you fell apart and had enough of him.

In that little walled-off prison you two were in, the two of you indulged in ways you both could never have during your time in the Academy. Boundaries they programmed into you were broken, lines were crossed and two beating hearts were fully awakened…and for the first time, truly, alive.

Then…when it was done…when that night passed and dawn broke. Those two hearts remained in each other’s arms, embracing one another as they feared for what the morrow would bring.

Not knowing that San would have to keep the promise he kept you.

“You deserve more than this life. You should be able to live freely and to love freely. Leave all this behind. Leave me behind.”

But he wasn’t going to leave you behind.

He could never.

-- feel free to scream in my askbox!

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[amjustagirl]

Chapter 3

pairing: hoshina soshiro x f! reader

genre: romance, angst

wc: 3.6k

summary: you've loved soshiro since you were seven. he will always place his duty above you.

chapt 1 / chapt 2 / chapt 3 / chapt 4 / chapt 5

The fight with Number 12 is exhausting, but Hoshina Soshiro emerges victorious. 

Not that he had any doubt (lies, what a fuckin’ lie, cos there was a point where he thought he’d drop dead from exhaustion, because Number 12 really was the new improved Number 10, who’d damn near run him into the ground), but other than the fact that he’d very much like to curl up in his bunk and sleep for the next week, he is pleased with himself. 

He wonders a little about the choice of location of Number 12’s appearance. Chofu airport is outside of central Tokyo, mostly suburban other than the circle of industrial Izumo Tech buildings a few streets down which he’s too familiar with (you come to mind, but he dismisses that thought immediately), but evacuation efforts seemed relatively complete, so he doesn’t pay any of this a second thought.

Because, of course, Number 9 tries to get its dirty paws on Captain Mina Ashiro. And, as everyone knows, if Captain Mina Ashiro is absorbed by Number 9, so too with her would be the rest of Japan’s hopes of withstanding the kaiju threat. 

Hoshina Soshiro therefore has no space in his mind to deal with anything but that.

By the end of the entire ordeal with Number 9, he can barely prop his eyelids up. He has reports to make, the casualties in his division to account for, troops to rally because the kaiju threat is never over, they’ll hit exactly when his back is turned. The Captain deserves a break with all that she’s gone through today, so it’s his time to step up and support her wherever he can. 

Still, he sneaks a look at his phone. 

 <stay safe>  <don’t be eaten by a kaiju>  <eat ‘em for brekkie instead>

He’s tempted to respond, but tells himself that he has no time to. It’s not that he’s avoiding you deliberately. Things have been hectic, and you wanted distance, hadn’t you, to give your friendship breathing space, let it recover from any awkwardness that lingers. It feels strange, being bereft of you these past few months. His fingers draft texts to you before his brain catches up to remind him that he needs to stay away from you. He wanders about the base on his days off, tracing an aimless circuit between his room, the gym and his desk, burying himself in paperwork and relentless training.

He tells himself this is how it should be. Duty never stops its call. 

“Okonogi san, report on any casualties in the area.”

“Mostly clear”, she reports. “Most civilians managed to clear out with the help of the Japan Ground Self Defense Force.” 

He closes his eyes in relief, though there’s still a prickling feeling of unease. “What about the Izumo Tech buildings?” 

He recalls blowing right through some of the buildings in the compound, blasting through concrete, leaving nothing but rubble behind. Surely no one remained in those buildings. 

“Mm”, Okonogi hesitates. “We can’t say for certain but rescue workers said they may have had some people trapped in the wreckage.’

It’s not his purview to concern himself with rescue efforts when his speciality is to fight and exterminate monsters. So he returns to base, doles out back slaps and hi fives to his officers, especially his baby ducklings, as he teasingly names his latest batch of recruits, swallows perfectly marbled beef courtesy of Izumo-kun, which reminds him - 

“I may have knocked down some of your family’s buildings in a fight”, he jokes. “Send the bill to Number 12 instead of me though, a vice captain’s paycheck won’t cut it.” 

Instead of laughing at his joke, Haruichi remains pensieve. “Last I heard, a couple of our employees were being dug out of those buildings”, he says somberly. 

Soshiro forgets how to breathe. 

“There were people in those buildings?” he demands. 

“Not everyone left when the evacuation signal went off”, Haruichi replies. “Apparently some people got trapped in the weapon forge -”

His body reacts before Haruichi has a chance to finish. He doesn’t bother if he makes a scene by shooting to his feet, racing outside the mess hall to punch your number into his phone. “Pick up, damnit”, he snarls, pacing outside, pinching his nose bridge because his calls go unanswered, your phone isn’t even connected to the network - 

Perhaps you just dropped your phone in the chaos. There’s no way you’re still stuck there. You should’ve been smart enough to run at the first sign of trouble -

“Vice Captain, do you want me to check -” 

He blurts out your name. Bless Izumo Haruichi who springs into action without asking questions. 

“Hey, nii-san - yeah, look, could you help me look into something?” 

He’s probably overreacting. For all he knows, you’re warm and snug in your bed in your cramped apartment, not buried beneath tons of burnt concrete and twisted pillars. Now, in the valley of despair, he admits what he’s always known - he misses you dearly, has felt the loss of your easy friendship over the last few months, mourned the absence of your laughter and smiles. 

It hurts enough to miss you. It’s unbearable to even consider he might never see you again. 

“Yeah”, Haruichi says, face dropping. “Thanks for letting me know.” 

His blood goes cold. 

“They pulled her out of the wreckage a while ago. She’s undergoing surgery right now.” 

For the first time in his life, he rails against his duty. He can’t leave his post, but the Captain orders him to go when she catches him harassing the hospital staff with endless calls throughout the night, asking only that he return before sunrise. It’s three quarters of an hour, maybe less if he floors the car he borrowed, weaving through kaiju decimated streets. 

He’s listed as one of your emergency contacts, probably because the rest of your family’s hours away in Osaka, so the doctors fill him in on your condition, even though he’s not family. 

Bones broken, by concrete crushing your body. Right side covered in burns, from a fire spread through the wreckage. Internal bleeding, probably a severe concussion, and they’re not sure your body will withstand the combined damage from all your injuries. 

“Too soon to tell”, the doctors shake their heads. “We’ll keep you updated.” 

Soshiro wants to punch the walls. Instead, he clenches his teeth. “Please do”, he replies tightly. 

There is nothing he can do but go back to base and wait. 

The hospital probably would put him on a blacklist if it weren’t the aftermath of a national emergency considering the way he bombards them every morning and night with calls to check on your status. You go through skin grafts for your burns, and he promptly loses his mind with worry when they tell him you’re on severe antibiotics to fight off the infections. Two nights ago, the doctors called him to say that they’re wheeling you back into surgery, having detected the source of bleeding in your stomach, and after another long sleepless night, all they can tell him is that they hope your condition should stabilise eventually. 

He’s on the verge of raising his voice to tell them to shove their half baked updates up their ass, when he remembers it’s not their fault you’re lying unmoving and broken in a narrow hospital bed. 

(it’s his) 

(he did this to you)

When they finally give him the okay to visit, he rushes to your side late at night with leave from the Captain, who merely reminds him not to break the speed limit. It’s past visiting hours but the nurses know better than to get in his way as he throws open the door to your room. 

You’re hooked up to machines which pump your lungs full of air, bruised and puffy and wholly unrecognisable under bone white bandages that wrap around most of your right side. You’re so still and unmoving that - if not for the beep of the machine registering your heart beat - 

He’s not going to finish that train of thought. He’s not. 

“Hey”, he breathes. He doesn’t dare touch you, lest you shatter. 

He stays by your bedside the entire night, slouched in one of those uncomfortable hospital chairs. “My week’s been awful”, he tells her. “It’s been hell trying to cobble together reports about what happened in the fight with Number 12. Plus, we have to rebuild our division and our base, so everyone’s running on fumes.” 

He talks and talks until the sun rises, and he gets up to go. 

“Don’t sleep for too long”, he says, and adds softly. “Stay safe, please.” 

The next day off he has, he returns, a large bouquet of flowers in tow. Your parents are there, finally able to make the trek from Osaka, almost impossible after the shinkansen schedules were disrupted and the highways unpassable. But they’re here, and though they look at him in askance, they quietly thank him for looking after you.

He wonders what they’ll say if they find out it was him who buried you deep in the ground. He’s too much of a coward to confess this to them when you might not wake up to see them again. 

He can’t quite put his finger on why, but he’s always been sure your mother dislikes him. Her smile, when directed at him, is too tight. She insists on you addressing him as the “young master” instead of his given name, which he prefers, and now, she laments the fact that it’s him who’s come to visit you instead of ‘that lovely Yamamoto-kun who sent those nice flowers’, when the door closes behind him. 

It’s a little petty, but he sends an even bigger bouquet of blooms a few days later, making sure to sign his name on an exceptionally large gift card. 

More information comes in on his fight with Number 12. He flips immediately to the section on civilian casualties, of which there are thankfully fewer than expected, though there’s a brief section on employees trapped in the Izumo Tech compound, of particular note because of its national security significance, though it states that several weapons technicians managed to retrieve a substantial amount of tech (specifically, blades) before the building came down on them. 

His stomach turns. He has to dash to the toilet, the taste of vomit burning acid in his mouth. 

The recruits all mutter why Vice Captain Hoshina’s in such a foul mood, forcing them to run laps for the most minor of infractions during training. He’s rude to the doctors when he calls them at night, claiming they still can’t be certain if you’re going to pull through, and even if you do, they also can’t say for sure that you’ll ever open your eyes again. 

Unable to sleep, he takes his frustration out on the training room. 

“Vice Captain.”

He snaps into a salute. “At ease, it’s after hours”, Mina Ashiro takes a seat beside him. “Staying up late to train?” 

“Yes, ma’am”, he replies. It’s the only thing that keeps his mind clear from worries. His sleep is marred by nightmares, his body unable to relax, anticipating the call from the hospital that he fears will inevitably come. 

“You were just doing your job”, she tells him. 

Despite the dark cloud he’s found himself trapped in this past week, his lips can’t help but quirk up at his Captain knowing exactly what’s on his mind. “I know”, he replies simply. “Still.” 

“Strictly off the record”, Mina says. “I’d behave exactly like you if it were Kafka in that hospital bed.” 

“Pretty sure it’ll take a nuclear bomb to take out Hibino-san but I’ll take your word for it.” 

“Hmm”, Mina hums. She’s a woman of few words, so it’s rare that she seeks him out for a conversation on anything that isn’t work related. “Do you ever wonder if we’re too focused on our jobs?”

“With due respect, Captain”, he replies. “That’s probably how we’ve managed to stay alive.” 

“Yes”, she says, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “But sometimes I think we forget what we do this all for.” 

 “And if I may be so bold”, he ventures. “What do you do this all for?” 

“When I was eight, a kaiju attacked my hometown. It wasn’t very large, now in hindsight, but it was large enough to destroy my childhood home, horrible enough to kill my cat.”

“So you resolved to grow up and be the best sniper the Defense Force had ever seen.” 

Mina chuckles. “I don’t think my eight year old self even knew how to be so ambitious.” Her expression sobers. “No, I just never wanted to see my parents cry again.” 

“It seems you’ve achieved your goal.” 

“Have I?” she asks, pulling at her hair absentmindedly. “I haven’t been back to visit my parents in years. I didn’t even keep in touch with Kafka despite us being close friends who grew up together. Yes, maybe in the grand scheme of things, I’ve kept the wider public safe - but that doesn’t change the fact that I’ve lost years of friendship, I’ve lost time I could’ve spent with the people I love.” 

“And you’re saying I’m the same?” 

Mina’s smile is serene. “It’s for you to decide that.”

She lets him ponder on her words in solitude, closing the door to the training room behind her. 

He still remembers the day he met you. 

You’re hiding behind a pillar, dressed in your kimono the same shade of blue as the hydrangeas that bloom in June. The presence of someone his age watching him spar spurs him on, makes him want to show off everything he’s got and give Sochiro a good fight. He’s convinced that the fight pushed Sochiro hard enough to grab you as a distraction from the fact that he’s actually being challenged by his younger brother. 

He doesn’t care if Sochiro’s bullying ways are directed at him. But when he makes you cry, he intervenes without thinking, even though it results in being beaten black and blue. 

But you look at him with stars in your eyes. “You’re amazing”, you tell him. For the first time in his life, Soshiro Hoshina believes that he is strong. 

It’s a cliche, but it’s easier to bear his older brother’s bullying and teasing if you’re there to spur him on with your cheerful words. You’ve always been in his corner, always happy to make a fuss over him, ooh and aah over every new move he learns, making him feel seen when everyone else’s attention is always focused on Sochiro, his more brilliant, gifted older brother

(to be seen is to be loved) 

You’ve supported him through every rainy day, every snowy day, every day of his life since his childhood, making it your life goal to craft the swords he wields. “I’ll make the sharpest blade so you can go be the best swordsman in the world!” you promised him, and so you have. You took up your family’s craft despite being but a slip of a girl, spending hours in the choking heat to learn a dying craft. You worked with an unerring focus in school, first to get into the country’s top engineering course, then graduating with flying colours to land a job at Izumo Tech, spending years subsisting on cup noodles and energy drinks. 

He’s never once even considered the toll it must’ve taken on you, the sacrifice of any semblance of a social life, the sacrifice of leaving Osaka, the comfortable cocoon of your family and friends to follow him to Tokyo. He’s ashamed to admit that he never gave any of this any thought, never really considered what it was like for you, only taking what you were too happy to give, your attention, your time. Every choice you’ve made, you’ve only made for him.  

And how has he repaid you? 

By running away when you admitted to feeling more than friendship for him. He convinced himself at the time with the excuse that he’s too busy, he really has no space in his life for anything but work and the art of the sword. It is all he’s lived and breathed for his entire life. 

But now - 

Now that he’s on the cusp of losing you, he thinks about the sun in your smile, the steel in your spine. He thinks about how much he admires your work ethic, your talent, your warmth and kindness. He remembers how much your friendship chased away the shadows of his self doubts, how you helped shoulder the burdens of chasing his dreams. 

Every rest day he gets to spend off-base, he chooses to spend it with you. Either at a cafe, which you always let him pick, allowing him to satisfy the cravings of his sweet tooth, or in the cramped apartment you call home, indulging in a fizzy can of beer as he talks your ear off about everything and nothing at once. With you, he can be Soshiro Hoshina without pretence, because there’s nothing about him that you haven’t seen. 

He’d ignored that twinge in his chest when you asked about getting yourself a boyfriend, fighting the urge to blurt out that he doesn’t think there’s a guy out there good enough to deserve you. So much so that he buries his relief when you admit that you’re not actually dating anyone by flippantly downplaying how much you mean to him, giving you instead the impression that you’re only worth as much as your usefulness to him. 

No wonder you’d been avoiding him. He didn’t even give you a chance to lick your wounds in private, cornering you, pressing you until you reveal your feelings for him. He’s so thrown by your confession that he reacts by running and hiding, doesn’t spend the time to unpack how he truly feels, doesn’t spare a thought for how you might feel, having your feelings thrown in your face so cruelly. 

How had he been this stupid? 

Worse yet, it’s his fault you’re fighting for your life in a narrow hospital bed. Collateral damage is unfortunately part and parcel of kaiju extermination, he knows that, but he was having fun swinging his sword, never thinking that he might be the cause of you never opening your eyes again. 

Fuck. 

He doesn’t deserve you, doesn’t deserve the chance to look you in the eye, never mind stand by your side. 

Your mother makes that clear the next time their paths cross that she’s of the same view. She’s stiffly polite, as if too painfully reminded that she has to be cordial to the second son of her husband’s longtime business associate, but after she pointedly asks him to shift his flowers to the side to make room for Yamamoto-san’s potted monstrosity, he goes in with a direct attack.   

“You don’t seem to like me very much.” 

To her credit, she doesn’t try to lie. “I care for my daughter”, she replies. 

“So do I”, he retorts without pause.  Because he does, even if he’s stupid enough to realise it a decade too late. 

“Hm”, she grunts, her doubt clear. 

“Since I was eight and she was seven”, he says, the words awkward in his mouth because it’s strange to admit how he feels about you to your mother who clearly disapproves of him, but it’s also a relief to put it to words. “I think I’ve always cared.” 

“I don’t think she knows that”, your mother says, the gentlest he’s ever heard her.  

“If she wakes up - ”, he corrects himself immediately, “when she wakes up -”, but even then his voice falters, because it’s been so long that you’ve been still and unmoving in this bed, swaddled in hospital sheets that too closely resemble a shroud. 

By the gods, what if it’s too late -

“When she wakes up”, your mother says without a tremble of uncertainty in her voice, “you should tell her that yourself.” 

He wishes he had an ounce of your mother’s unwavering faith in fate, because weeks later, your room remains colourless, white and sterile. He places yet another bouquet by your bedside, an array of blue and purple hydrangeas, the last of this year’s summer.

“Wake up”, he tells you. “Last chance for us to catch the fireworks festivals and eat shaved ice. I won’t have to steal your ice cream if we go.” 

You don’t move. 

“Your brother’s wedding’s been postponed because everyone’s waiting for you. Better get up soon, cos’ no one wants to get married in the winter.”

The room remains silent. 

The linoleum of the floor is so beige it makes him want to stomp a hole right through it, make it a little less bland and unappealing. He can’t bring himself to nod at the terrified nurse who squeaks at him to leave the room when it’s time to change your dressing. He’s not known to be emotional, but grief claws up his sternum, longing has his throat in a chokehold. 

“When you wake up, I’ve got a question to ask you. Don’t you wanna wake up to find out what it is?” 

He doesn’t know why he expects a response. 

“Stay safe.” A quiet sigh. Seeya soon.” 

It’s almost dawn by the time he pulls into the base.

Rain drums on the roof of the car, the morning a greyish, cloudy blue. He pulls on his combat jacket, the skin at the back of his neck prickling into goosebumps. His phone rings just as he gets out of the seat, thumb swipes right promptly when he sees the hospital’s number light up the screen. 

“Vice Captain Hoshina speaking.” 

“S-sir”, it must be that nervous nurse from earlier in the night. “You asked us to call if there’s any change in the patient’s condition -”

The beat of his heart grows thunderous in his ears. 

“Yes?” 

a/n: *dum dum dummmmm* another cliffhanger!!!

[lynxgriffin]

Thoughts on future Eldritchrune updates

Hey folks! Just wanted to make a post about some long-term stuff regarding Eldritchrune, and other DR-related fan stuff I may be working on. I'm absolutely open to all of your thoughts or suggestions on it, but I wanted to try and lay down some long-term planning, since I like doing that:

While there's plenty of other scenes I intend to do comics for (I've got a whole new batch of them that I need to get to writing soon) I've also been thinking about how to approach the ending. While I'd like to wait for chapters three and four and see what new material we get from canon there, I also intend to finish the AU before the game itself finishes, primarily because I want to do a much more canon-based fan project after the full game is out. Eldritchrune is vastly different enough from canon anyway that I'm not concerned about the canon ending affecting the AU.

My primary concern is that, as I have it laid out now, Eldritchrune's ending is going to take a VERY long time to produce...it's an extensively long ending, with crowd scenes, fight scenes, huge effects, buildings falling apart, emotional conversations, etc...basically ALL of the things that take a really long time to draw! I am wondering if it might be best to approach that work by slowly chipping away at it over a long period of time, rather than trying to tackle it once I'm actually at the ending.

Of course, the issue with that is that if I'm setting aside time regularly to chip away at it, that'll eat into time to work on the other, smaller scenes that are still in progress. This is in addition to me wanting to do a special project (canon-related) for the upcoming anniversary in a few months. All this is to say that this may make the blocks of time between comic updates longer, and I know there's already quite a wait there, at least with these last few long ones!

This seems like the best approach to making sure Eldritchrune gets done in a satisfying way to me right now, but I also know that longer waits between updates might not be ideal for folks. To help with the waits, I was thinking of also updating my patreon with WIPs on a more frequent basis, but that also may not make a difference for most people reading. So, I am open to your thoughts and opinions on this as I move forward!

[hwaslayer]

love you in slow motion (psh) | two.

♡ spotify playlist | series masterlist ♡

—summary: seonghwa will go through hell and back for you, as long as he can continue to see that smile on your face. because to him, that smile feels like a rainbow after the rain, the warmth of the sun on a winter day. because to him, you’re more than just his bestfriend—you’re love. even though everyone seems to see that except you.

—pairing: park seonghwa x f!reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) bestfriends to lovers | fluff, angst, eventual smut

—word count: 7.3k

—chapter warning: cussing/mature language, alcohol consumption and intoxication, some drunk crying lol, yacking, lil inkling of jealousy, overthinking and burying feelings, more seonghwa x oc dynamic

—a/n: hi hi! hope you guys enjoy this update! the next two updates will be quite lengthy lol stay tuned! if you need a lil something fun, i posted after hours last weekend!

"You know, Y/N. One day, you should sit down and eat with me. I'll pay for everything. It'll be a nice little date." The old man who is a regular at the restaurant smiles up at you while you switch his empty cup with a newly refilled cup of beer. 

"Sure, but you know, my boss is also my cousin. I could always ask her for free food if I wanted it. Wouldn't a date be nicer somewhere else?" You laugh and nod, giving him a wink before walking off. "Mr. Ong asked me out on another date."

"Ou, to our restaurant? How sweet of him. Maybe one day you should actually sit down and eat with him."

"I'm not looking for a sugar daddy, Soyeon."

"He probably just needs company, you weirdo." She laughs. "Aye, might be nice, though. You never know until you try." You roll your eyes. "Unless.."

"Unless, what?"

"Someone else has your heart." Soyeon nudges you behind the counter as you two work on packing some to-go orders.

"Who is someone else?" 

"You know, only your bestfriend of 16 years who does everything and anything for you." Soyeon giggles. But, before she can even indulge in her own little fantasy she's trying to project on you, Seonghwa walks through the front door— black, wavy hair messily framing his head. "Speak of the devil." You glare at her and roll her eyes while she continues to giggle loudly next to you.

"I can't fucking believe you."

"What?!" You look up at Seonghwa and give him a nod. "Hwa! Our favorite person ever."

"Hey." He smiles at Soyeon, giving Junseo a wave as he helps Yoongi in the kitchen.

"What're you doing here?"

"Thought I'd pick you up for Sannie's thing." He looks at you.

"Aw, Hwa. I told you I was okay taking bus."

"I was already in the area." He sits at the bar, watching as you continue to pack the remaining orders. 

"Want anything?" Soyeon asks, making Hwa shake his head in response.

"I'm good, thanks."

"You should get going so you can meet up with everyone on time." Soyeon nudges you.

"Let me give Mr. Ong his check and direct him your way before I go." You grab a new batch of dried squid with the check, pacing over to Mr. Ong with a huge smile on your face. "My dear, I have some bad news. I'm off for the night. Here's a refill of your dried squid and the check. Just pay with Soyeon at the front, okay?" He frowns and playfully protests.

"You can't go that early! What am I supposed to do when my favorite is gone?!" 

"Oh, I know. It's a tragedy. I'm so sorry, Mr. Ong. I'll see you next time!" You give him a sweet smile before walking to the back and hanging up your apron. "Soyeon will take great care of you!"

"I sure will, Mr. Ong. What else do you need?" He continues to playfully protest and partake in cute banter with Soyeon, even as you grab your things and walk out the door with Seonghwa.

"Really got the hots for you. Gonna let him take you out on a date?" Seonghwa adds as he leads the way to his parked car up the street.

"Well, just so you know, he actually did ask me on a date today. For the umpteenth time. He offered to pay for my dinner at the restaurant." You giggle as you step into the passenger's seat of Hwa's car. You always commend Hwa for being so clean and tidy, his car always in pristine condition like a new car would be. You especially love the air freshener that sits on his rear view mirror, Seonghwa always making sure to hang a new one to keep the fragrance alive.

"How sweet of him." He chuckles. "How was work otherwise?"

"Good. Busy." You let out a breath.

"Not too tired to go?"

"Never! I need to see Sannie, are you kidding?"

"I'm just giving you some options." He says, pulling away from the curb to begin the trek over to the bar.

"Thanks, Hwa. I'm perfectly fine and excited." You clap your hands in excitement.

"I think they're all already there."

"They're just waiting for us?"

"Mhm."

"Can't wait. I can't believe he went MIA when he was in Barcelona."

"I mean, we heard from him every now and then, but yeah." Seonghwa licks his lips, eyes focused on the road in front of him. "Guess he really wanted to focus on his program. Plus, I'm sure he was just basking in the new environment. Being in a new country and taking it all in."

"Good for him. I strive to be that way."

"Long way to go." You playfully smack him on the arm, making him give off a small yelp.

"I'm glad he did that, though. You don't normally find yourself in a situation like that all the time." Seonghwa nods.

"Yeah. I agree." You rest your head back against the headrest, giving yourself a moment to rest before the chaos begins. Before you could even get a few seconds of peace, Seonghwa is turning at a corner, instantly pulling into a free spot on the street.

"Mind if we walk a bit? I don't think we'll find anything closer to the bar."

"Sure. If I get wasted, it's on you to carry me." You unbuckle your seatbelt and hop out of the car while Seonghwa follows suit.

"Hell no."

"So what, are you just gonna leave me?"

"Yeah." He says nonchalantly, walking ahead of you.

"You're so mean to me." You pout, making Seonghwa look down at you once you finally catch up to his side.

"Am I? Even though I lose sleep to save you from your shitty ex-boyfriend?"

"Hey, I was just kidding." He laughs. "It's not funny. Are you sick of me?"

"Y/N, please."

"Seonghwa, are you sick of me? Cause if you are, then I am too!" You tug on his arm and he shakes his head. 

"We wouldn't be in each other's lives for this long if I was." He scoffs. "Besides, what the hell have I done to make you sick of me?"

"I thought so. Don't get me started." You playfully attempt to smack him on the arm. At this point, the two of you have finally reached the entrance to the bar, Wooyoung being the first to spot you walking over.

"Baby girl and her grumpy bodyguard are here!" He yells, waving you two over. You call out Wooyoung and Hongjoong's name while waving happily, but the individual next to them causes you to pause and almost short-circuit.

Because what do you mean that's Choi San?

You gasp when you finally process that it's San standing next to Wooyoung, his cheeks a rose-tinted color as he fiddles with his hands. He's nervous seeing you for the first time in years, hoping you'd still be the same around him like before.

"Sannie!" You scream, running into San's arms and allowing him to swing you around. When he puts you down, he gets a good look at your face and smiles, sending those butterflies loose in your stomach.

He definitely changed over the years.

It's been about three years since you all graduated, and since you last saw San. Once graduation was over, he felt the need to travel and explore, eventually stumbling into an Art and Architecture program in Barcelona. That's where he spent a majority of his years abroad before coming back home.

To you, your friends, his family.

This.

The familiar.

But the last time you saw San, he was a super sweet, awkward guy who experimented with hair colors and lacked consistency with the gym [even though he said he wanted to be better about a million times]. In reality though, he didn't think too much about his physical appearance and wasn't big on dressing up, was glued to his games and his shiba pillow pet named Shiber— even after graduation.

Now, he stands in front of you— a nice fitting black tee tucked into some dress pants and boots, brow slits, black hair slicked back with strands falling to his face, buff as shit in all the right places. You still smell his cologne lingering on you, on your hair, even as your eyes continue to glaze over his body.

"Wow, you look.. different." You accidentally let out while letting your eyes linger. He chuckles, showing off his deep dimples.

"What is that supposed to mean? I haven't seen you in about three years and that's the first thing you say?" He teases, pulling you into another tight hug, your cheek pressed against his chest while Seonghwa furrows his brows. Because what the fuck is he watching right now? It's so easy to tell when you're feeling some type of way, even if you won't admit it.

"Sorry, I meant that in a good way." You look up at him and playfully tap his chest. "I'm happy you're back home. It's been too long."

"I am, too." Seonghwa clears his throat, breaking the weird, flirty silence between the two of you.

"Can we go inside?" Seonghwa chimes in, looking at anyone for some sort of agreement.

"Okaaaaay!" Wooyoung says, clapping his hands awkwardly. "You didn't have to make it so fucking weird, Mr. Grumpygills." He and Hongjoong snort while they begin to walk into the bar, Hwa's hand coming up to smack Wooyoung on the back of his neck. "Ouch, what the fuck! Joongie laughed too." He whines.

"Shut up."

"I can't wait to hear your stories about Barcelona!" You link your arm with San's as you two trail behind and begin to talk about how he's been lately. Wooyoung, Hongjoong and Seonghwa slide in first before you and San follow suit into the booth.

"Somebody order before he loses his shit watching this." Hongjoong mumbles, eyeing the happy hour menu.

"Tequila? Soju?" Wooyoung yells, already calling the server over. "Both? Fuck it. Seonghwa looks like he needs it anyway."

"I will personally toss your ass out of this bar myself." Seonghwa says under his breath, glaring at Wooyoung before returning his attention to the menu. After a few moments of peace and silence, Hongjoong takes initiative to order for the booth— making sure to include everyone's wants and wishes before thanking the server with a smile and a curt nod.

The soju bottles come out first, and you immediately crack them open to get the party started. You line up all of the shot glasses and start pouring [heavily], passing it onto the boys for them to join you.

"Goodness." Hongjoong says, carefully lifting his shot glass filled to the brim. "Y/N, I love you, but we have all night, you know?"

"Exactly, Joongie! More time to get in more shots!"

"Yeah, that's the spirit babygirl! Don't worry about the grandpas!" Wooyoung yells along, tapping his glass against yours. "Sannie's back!" San shyly laughs, saying a few words along the lines of 'thank you' and 'i missed you guys a lot.' Everyone taps their glasses once more before downing their shots, with you wasting no time to pour the next round.

But the next round becomes the third, the fifth, maybe seventh, tenth? You aren't really sure when it's mainly you, San and Wooyoung taking the shots and requesting bottle after bottle. At some point, the empty bottles are gathered in the middle of the table and Seonghwa is having to play tetris to make the food fit.

"I need to pee. I'll be back."

"Are you good to go by yourself?" Wooyoung questions. "I can stand outside in the hallway until you're done."

"I'm good, I promise!" You slip out of the booth once San has slipped out of the way at the end, taking a moment to get your balance together since the world seems to be spinning a lot more than usual right now.

"Wow, I think I'm drunk." Wooyoung laughs as he plops back down onto the seat.

"Saaaame." San burps a bit before picking at the calamari sitting in front of him. "Y/N's fun. I forgot how fun she is."

"She is." Wooyoung smiles. "That's babygirl."

"Babygirl? Is this a new nickname we're calling her?"

"It's a nickname I'm calling her and Hwa hates it." Wooyoung giggles when he eyes Seonghwa next to him.

"It's just weird."

"Not! You're just mad you can't come up with a cuter nickname for your bestfriend."

"I don't need to." Seonghwa continues to eat, brushing off Wooyoung's drunk teasing.

"Did you guys come from work today?" Hongjoong shifts the topic as he munches on some of the food, hearing the slight annoyance in Seonghwa's tone.

"Yeah. Picked up Y/N on the way over."

"When are Soyeon and Junseo leaving for Japan?"

"In a few days." Wooyoung gasps.

"Does that mean we'll get to see Chacha?!"

"That's right, I never met Charli." San says, cheeks flushed completely to red now that he's 100% drunk.

"She's cute." Seonghwa smiles a bit. "But yeah, Soyeon asked Y/N to take charge in watching Chacha since Yaya's knees have been bothering her." Hongjoong nods.

"She's really cute, dude. She turned three not too long ago." Wooyoung shows San a picture. 

"She's so cute." San laughs at the pictures of Charli.

"I'm back!" You announce, the boys at the end slipping out of the booth to let you get back inside. "What're you guys looking at?"

"Chacha." You smile.

"Aw yeah, Charli! You haven't met her. She'd love you." You look at San.

"Can't wait. She's super cute."

"She's stuck to this one the most, though." You point at Seonghwa. "All she does is cry for Hwa." You pour yourself another shot.

"He's no fun, though." Wooyoung pokes fun and pouts at Seonghwa.

"It's cause mentally, you're the same age as Charli. Of course you relate the most."

"Aye." Wooyoung flips him off while laughing. "Fuck you."

"Am I wrong?" Seonghwa smirks.

"Is she just gonna stay with Yaya when she doesn't have preschool? She only goes three days, right?" Hongjoong asks.

"Yeah, but I'm not sure." You reach across to grab some food, getting in Seonghwa's way. "I know Yaya won't mind, but I might just bring her along to the restaurant. She can color or something. Our regulars don't mind keeping her company, too."

"Cute." 

"But, she'll be sleeping with me and everything." You say with a slightly full mouth. You feel Seonghwa accidentally nudge you while grabbing a chicken wing, making your drunk ass glare back at him just as you roughly nudge him. He mumbles a quick 'stop' as he nudges you again, making you respond with an even more aggressive nudge that has him moving in his seat. The childish back and forth has Hongjoong confused, eyes peering over the edge of his phone while he watches the interaction mid-text. "You stop." You groan.

"Seriously?" Hongjoong asks, sometimes unsure how you two have dealt with each other for this long.

"He elbowed me first." You drunkly respond, that last shot of soju finally settling in.

"It was an accident. I was trying to grab food." Seonghwa gives you a look. It's gonna be a long night. "Eat more. Drunk ass." Seonghwa drops a wing onto your plate before continuing to pick at his food.

"No." You pout and he furrows his brows.

"Fine, suit yourself. You're gonna be mad you didn't." He watches as you reach over to grab the soju bottle and pour Wooyoung and San another shot.

"Don't be a killjoy, Hwa. Sannie is back, doesn't that mean anything to you?" You whine, your doe-eyes peering up at him as he eats. He doesn't respond, nor does he keep eye contact with you for long because he can't stand it when you look at him like that. 

"I'm driving, remember?" He raises a brow. 

"Right." You giggle. "I'll take another on your behalf then." You shrug and take one last shot of soju right after San and Wooyoung take their shots.

"She's gonna yack tonight." Hongjoong says while puckering his lips, keeping his eyes glued to his phone.

"Yeah, probably." Seonghwa nonchalantly munches on a mozzarella stick.

"Am! Not!" You direct your response to Hongjoong, but before you can go on and defend yourself even more, a loud scream erupts when the DJ starts to play one of your favorite songs.

"Who wants to dance?!" Wooyoung yells loudly as he stands at the booth, San already ready to make his way to the dance floor. "Babygirl sure does!" San grabs your hand and leads the way, with Wooyoung pushing Hongjoong out of the booth to follow along. "You two coming?" He asks just as Hongjoong and Seonghwa shake their head, leaving him to nod and find you and San on the floor.

"Looks like those two are gonna get extra close again now that he's back for good." Hongjoong takes a turn teasing Seonghwa, knowing the flirty interaction from earlier in the night is still irking the living daylight out of him.

"Mm, maybe." Seonghwa continues to chomp on his food while avoiding eye contact.

"Wow, they're dancing awfully close like that together." Hongjoong lies, watching as Seonghwa's eyes suddenly dart to the dance floor ahead. He tries not to make it obvious but my god, is he hoping that you and San aren't dancing up on each other and are leaving room for the Holy Spirit instead. "See, you're full of shit."

"Dude, fuck off. Why is everyone on my ass about this today?"

"Maybe cause you should do something about it."

"If she wants to date San, then she should go for it. Can't tell her who she can or can't date."

"You're right, by all means. But I'm telling you to be fucking real with yourself." Seonghwa rolls his eyes and shakes his head before looking back out to the dance floor. He's a little irritated that he's had to hear this not once, but twice in one day— though, he knows his boys are only looking out for him and telling him the truth. For some reason, he just can't think about it right now. He refuses to, mainly out of fear. He doesn't want this to consume him, to change things without him even realizing.

He wants you, but he'll have you the way the universe will allow him to have you.

After you, Wooyoung and San are done dancing [a very long hour or so afterwards], the group decides to call it a night shortly after. You're still drunk as hell, and Seonghwa doesn't even know how he's gonna get you home without creating chaos at this time of night. He just hopes he can at least get you to bed in one piece.

At least you're not running off to Mingi.

"I had so much fun!" You giggle. "Choi San." You tap his chest before hugging him. "I'm so glad you're back."

"I am, too."

"We have to hang out more now that you're back. T-to make up for lost—" You hiccup. "—time."

"That sounds good with me." You smile at him before hugging Wooyoung and Hongjoong.

"I mean it!"

"I know, I do too!" He laughs.

"Hwa get home safely, please." Joong says before grabbing at Wooyoung's shirt just as he's about to run to the water fountain nearby. "No, you're not going to the fountain."

"I just wanna make a wish and toss a coin in there! I'm not gonna dive in!" Wooyoung whines while San laughs loudly. "Why are you being like that!" He continues on.

"You too!" Seonghwa calls out, picking up his pace when he realizes you've already started walking off. "Shit." He mumbles to himself.

"Wooooooo!" You skip happily as you and Seonghwa walk down the street to his car. You stumble on your feet a bit that he has to grab your wrist and pull you back towards him before you end up on the busy street where cars are constantly driving up and down.

"Y/N, be careful." He says, almost whining that you can't just stay still next to him.

"Hwa, I'm fine."

"Are you?"

"Y-yes!" You giggle and pose as if he's taking a picture, only to lose your balance and stumble on your feet again. You laugh though, and it makes Seonghwa chuckle a bit when he grabs your arm and holds you close.

"Okay, yeah. You're right! Perfectly fine." He lies just so you're satisfied.

"Aw, see. I told you so." You scrunch your nose at him and continue to let him guide you to the car. "Hwa." You tug on his arm.

"Mhm?"

"Sannie is so cute." You pout. "He is so, so cute. I m-mean." You hiccup. "He's always been cute but he's so attractive now. Like prince charming." You say ever so smitten, and it makes Seonghwa wanna silently scream and punch the air right now. "Isn't he?!"

"Sure."

"Do you think he'd like me? We're just friends and he probably just—" You hiccup again. "Just sees me as a friend."

"I think he would."

"You're not just saying that because you're my bestfriend, right? You can tell me the truth. You hate Mingi and you tell me all the time."

"I always tell you the truth." He chuckles. "And I do hate Mingi. That has never changed. He's an asshole and doesn't treat you right."

"Would San treat me right? Would you like him? We've all been friends so you know him." Seonghwa sighs.

"He would. He's a really good guy."

"I knooooow." You pout. "But he wouldn't like me."

"He would."

"Would he actually?"

"Why not? You're beautiful inside and out, smart, funny. Fun to be around. You're a headache at times, but everything about you is worth it." He almost mumbles the last part hoping you wouldn't catch it. You do, but it doesn't bother Seonghwa as much knowing you won't remember shit tomorrow.

"Aw, pichu." You stop and look at him while he unlocks his car and swings the passenger door open for you. "You really mean that?" Your bottom lip looks like it's trembling and Seonghwa can't help but furrow his brows in confusion at you.

"Are you gonna cry?"

"Yeah." Your bottom lip pokes out even more and you actually do start crying. 

"That wasn't meant to make you cry, Y/N. I'm just answering your question." He laughs as he wipes your tears, but you continue to cry, even as you drunkly plop onto the passenger's seat.

"It was so sweet, you're always so good to me. Sometimes." You sniff. "Well all the time. I feel like I don't deserve you."

"Don't say that."

"It's true."

"It's not, or else I wouldn't be here, right?" He looks at you just as he finishes buckling your seatbelt.

"Did you know?" You giggle with glazed, hooded eyes. "I wanted to marry you at some point. I couldn't see anyone else in my life the same way that I saw you and thought I'd end up marrying you." You snort and laugh loudly. "Kinda crazy isn't it? We would never date though so how could that even happen?" Seonghwa can't help but continue to look at you, even though at this point you've shut your eyes and started to lean back against the seat.

"Hm." Seonghwa hums. "I wouldn't say never."

"You're my bestfriend. We can't break up, remember? Ever. If we date, then ultimately we could get tired of each other and break up. A-and hate each other. It'll kill me." You mumble. "Even though I love you, I really, really love you, we promised not to break up or go there."

"Yeah." Seonghwa's heart shatters, the pieces falling to the pits of his stomach.

"Listen, even though I have this crush on Sannie, or I think I do, I don't know—" You giggle again as you tap his arm. "I want you to know that I'll always love you more than anyone or anything. Okay? You're always first!" Your eyes pop open to look at him. "My heart belongs to you and only you, Park Seonghwa!" You laugh and point at him cutely, shutting your eyes again to finally try and sleep this off. 

"I love you, too." Seonghwa mutters as he drives off, but you're already sound asleep in the seat— head leaning near the window. He's not sure what to feel right now, and he'll probably never bring this up for your sake. He'll never bring it up though the thought will consume him.

But, did you really mean it? All of it?

He's hoping yes, but what is that gonna do for him? You're drunk. You won't remember this. He won't bring it up. Does this mean it's actually time for him to be honest before it's too late? Before San can sweep you off your feet for good and Seonghwa never gets the chance to tell you how much he truly loves you and adores you?

Before he just has to sit back and bury his feelings for good? All because he decided he couldn't tell you?

He'd hate to say you were the one that got away, especially when a whole new door just opened in front of his eyes. It's just a matter of him taking those steps.

Fuck.

Why do things have to be so complicated?

When he gets to your house, Yaya is sound asleep and all the lights are off. Seonghwa makes sure to open the side door and the door to your suite before coming back to his car to quietly unbuckle your seatbelt and carry you to your bed. You whimper and make a small noise when he lifts you, and he gently shushes you back to sleep— reassuring you that he was putting you to bed and that he'd be around if you needed him.

He lays you down, taking off your shoes and setting them aside before grabbing some clean clothes for you to change into later. He knows you'll probably get up in the middle of the night, especially with how drunk you were. He sets a glass of water near your bed side and places the trash can next to you just in case, before shutting all the curtains and changing into comfier clothes himself [the perks of you wearing his clothes home]. He lays down on your couch and throws the extra blanket over his body, taking a moment to scroll through his phone and text the boys before attempting to get some sleep.

You do end up yacking that night, and it's not as slick as you had liked.

You abruptly woke up, suddenly feeling warm and like you needed some sort of release, feet quickly padding to the bathroom that you didn't notice Seonghwa asleep on your couch. You shut the door to the bathroom and instantly vomit into the bowl— all the alcohol and things you've eaten coming right back up. Seonghwa is already awake, though. He heard you shuffling over to the bathroom and knows exactly what's happening behind the door. He lets out a breath while walking to the bathroom, finding you head first into the toilet. He gently gathers your hair and pulls it back, rubbing your back as you let out another round into the bowl before flushing it away.

"Fuck." You say. "Really do regret not eating more." You spit into the bowl before flushing it once more and stand to wash up.

"Figured." Seonghwa smirks with a little chuckle. "You alright?" You nod as you begin to brush your teeth and get loads of mouthwash ready.

"I think I'll be okay now. I feel a bit better even though I'm kinda dizzy still." You look at him through your bathroom mirror. "Were you here the entire time?" Seonghwa yawns and nods as he leans against the door frame.

"Took your little drunk ass home and stayed here just in case."

"How many hours ago did we get home?"

"Probably like 2 or 3."

"How drunk was I?"

"Drunk enough."

"I didn't say stupid shit, did I?" You spit out the mouth wash and start to make your way outside to change into comfier clothes, still feeling disoriented.

"No, but you did manage to be all up on San." You gasp and cover your mouth, Seonghwa laughing as he plops back down onto your couch.

"The fuck, Seonghwa! Don't lie!" You smack him on the shoulder.

"I'm kidding. Kinda. You were dancing with him and Wooyoung, and you wouldn't stop talking about how cute he was." You start changing in the bathroom with the door open, listening to him go on about that.

"Did he hear?"

"No, you were still being a flirt though."

"Fucking christ." You mumble, hand to your forehead at the dull headache now present post-yack session. "No, I'm not thinking about this now." You lay back down and toss the sheets over your body. "Are you sure you're okay to sleep there?"

"Mhm. Not like I haven't before."

"We've also shared a bed without issues." Seonghwa pauses, swallowing the lump in his throat. Can he really share a bed with you the same way he used to? Especially after you just blurted out that your heart belonged to him? Whether it was the truth, or for shits and giggles— he can't just share a bed with you and keep his distance.

You fucking blurted out the L word.

You said you loved him; really, really loved him.

"It's okay. You should rest comfortably. You need it more than I do." You hum as you sink into your sheets and let the warmth envelope you. Seonghwa lets out a quiet sigh before returning his attention to his phone, waiting for the drowsiness to hit him again. His groupchat with the boys still seems to be active, so he scrolls through to catch up on the texts:

[hongjoong]: just got home after dropping these punks off

[hongjoong]: can't believe woo and san convinced me to go to another bar

[hongjoong]: hwa did you and y/n make it home okay?

[wooyoung]: did y/n yack her brains out? cause babygirl was drunk drunk

[san]: you guys, speaking of her

[san]: y/n is so fucking cute, i missed her a lot

[san]: she's really not seeing anyone right? because she's so pretty

[san]: maybe she'll finally give me a chance lol

[hongjoong]: you're drunk. sleep it off? lol

[san]: no i really mean it ☹️ she rarely paid attention to me before..

[hongjoong]: what are you talking about, she was always with us lol you guys always hung out??

[hongjoong]: please go to sleep

[wooyoung]: u better ask bodyguard seonghwa first, he might drop kick that ass

[san]: shit hwa i'm sorry, am i overstepping here??

Seonghwa is annoyed and he's irritated, but he won't say it. And he won't take it out on San because it's not his fault. It's not anyone's fault but Seonghwa's own. He chooses to keep this to himself and not do anything about it, so can he really mope around and sulk? You weren't his to claim. It was free game, and if it's gonna be anyone, he would want it to be San. Seonghwa would ultimately support you and San if it ever went down that route. That way, you wouldn't keep hurting yourself over Song Mingi, too.

Despite adoring you and loving you to bits, all he wants is for you to be genuinely happy. That's the most important thing here.

[seonghwa]: don't listen to wooyoung's dumbass, you don't needa tell me or ask me anything. y/n is her own person

[seonghwa]: and yeah joong we're fine

[seonghwa]: she did throw up but shes asleep now

[seonghwa]: i'm gonna take my exit, tired as hell

He sets his phone aside, turning inwards on the couch to try and catch some shut-eye. Though, he feels like at this point, he's probably not gonna have the best rest. He manages to fall asleep for the next couple of hours, tossing and turning every now and then until he finally decides to just call it quits and start his day. He washes up and tries to make himself look a little more presentable after the long night of tossing and turning. He folds the blankets and sets them aside, happy to see that you're still sound asleep deep under your covers. He grabs his keys and phone, deciding to make a run for some pho to bring back and share with you.

"Seonghwa." Yaya says as she waters her flowers in the garden. "You're here." She smiles.

"Mhm." He gestures towards your suite. "Brought her home after we all went out last night for San."

"Oh, that handsome boy. I'm so happy to hear he's back home." She stands and places her hand on her hip. "Was she okay?"

"Yeah, just drank quite a bit. She's okay though. Promise." Seonghwa smiles sweetly. "I'm gonna grab us some food before she wakes up."

"You're the sweetest boy I know." She cups his cheek.

"Do you need anything while I'm out, Yaya?" He asks as he's about to head out of the backyard's side door.

"No, Soyeon, Junseo and Charli are coming over soon. You're gonna be here, right? Charli would be so sad if she missed you."

"Yeah, I'll be here." He chuckles. "Be back." 

With that, Seonghwa heads off to the small Vietnamese restaurant that you, your family and his family have come to love. It's a bit of a drive from your place, but he doesn't mind. The restaurant is owned by a lovely middle-aged couple who has seen you and Seonghwa grow since your high school years. When Seonghwa calls, they know his voice— immediately starting on his order before he could say anything and asking for him to swing by as soon as possible so they can see him.

So, that's what he does.

He sees them as soon as possible, walking into the store with a huge smile on his face while Mr. and Mrs. Dao happily wave him over with a huge bag of food nearby on the counter. He stands near the counter to engage in small talk for a bit, giving them cash with extra tip for all the good food they've packed for him [and you].

"Where is our girl?" Mrs. Dao asks, tying the knot securely on the bag.

"Asleep and hungover." She laughs, handing the bag over. "Gotta make sure she gets some food in her system."

"That's sweet of you." She smiles at him. 

"How's your family? How's Y/N and hers?" Mr. Dao asks him, wiping his hand on his apron.

"They're all good. I'll tell them you guys said hello." They nod.

"I packed some spring rolls and extra peanut sauce in there. I know those are her favorite." Mrs. Dao whispers.

"Thank you." Seonghwa winks before waving one last time and walking out of the door. 

As promised, when he arrives, Soyeon, Junseo and Charli are over. Seonghwa steps out of his car with the bag of food, a screaming Charli running towards him from down the hallway. She barrels through her own mom and dad to get to him quickly, with Seonghwa having to set the bag on the island counter down to appropriately welcome her into his arms and swing her around.

"Uncle Hwa! Uncle Hwa!" She screams repeatedly.

"Charli, please. You don't have to scream." Soyeon chuckles a bit.

"Chacha." Seonghwa taps the tip of her nose before she giggles and snuggles her head into the crook of his neck. "I missed you. Where have you been?" He asks teasingly.

"Preschool! With friends!"

"Aw, you've been making friends? That's good." 

"Hwa, don't let that child lie to you." Soyeon adds. "She's so mean and sassy. There was this kid who wanted to sit next to her and she kicked her foot out so he wouldn't." Junseo laughs.

"Wonder who she gets that attitude from?" Junseo chimes in.

"Can't forget that one time we took her to the park and another kid wanted to play with her, but Chacha held up a stick so they wouldn't get close to her." Seonghwa laughs at Junseo's story before he rubs at Charli's back.

"Aw pea, you can't do that."

"I don't!"

"Mhm. Now she wants to act all sweet and innocent cause you're here." Soyeon crosses her arm and nods at the bag. "Long night for Y/N, I'm assuming."

"You could say that." He continues to hold Charli against his hip while grabbing at the bag. "Hey, let's go wake up Auntie Y/N?" She happily nods as Seonghwa walks off to the suite. As expected, you're still deep under your covers, messy hair the only thing peeking out from under. "Go wake her up, Chacha." He says lowly, putting her down so that she can run to the bed and wake you [rather aggressively].

"Titi Y/N! Titi Y/N! Wakey wakey!" Seonghwa chuckles to himself as he sets the food out on your coffee table, grabbing two bowls for you both. 

"Oh my god, Chacha. Please." You groggily say as she bounces on your bed. "How are you even in here right now?"

"Uncle Hwa! He has food so you need to eat now." You would've thought she was grown with that attitude, you think. You chuckle as you rub at your eyes and sit up, giving your niece a proper bear hug and cuddle.

"Thank you, pea." You give her a kiss on the side of the head before you get up to wash up and get yourself ready for the day. Once you've freshen up, you do feel a bit better, though your tummy still feels unsettled so Seonghwa's timing is perfect.

Like always.

You plop next to him on the floor, while Chacha welcomes herself on his criss-crossed lap. He pushes the container of spring rolls and the huge bowl of pho towards you since he's already had his first helping, eyes glued on your TV even though it's just the Secret Life of Pets [probably by Chacha's choosing].

"Thank you, Hwa." His big eyes dart to you before he gives you a small smile and slurps his noodles.

"Course." He feeds some to Chacha when she politely asks for a bite. "You feeling okay?"

"Yeah, a bit. This will help majorly." You slurp the soup.

"Chacha! Let's go! I told you we were only stopping by for a bit!" Soyeon calls from outside.

"No, mama! I wanna stay with Auntie Y/N and Uncle Hwa." She whines loudly, on the verge of an actual breakdown as she stands in between you two.

"Hey Chacha, remember? We're gonna spend some time together soon while mama and papa are away." You pull her close to you and brush the hair out of her face. "Just me and you. Uncle Hwa too." She nods, a tear falling from her eye as she pouts. Seonghwa has to look away because he's finding that the more he's fixated on this scene, the more he imagines a future like this with you. 

And he can't do that to himself.

"Okay." She mumbles with the pout still on her face. You continue to brush her hair back and wipe the straggling tears before standing. 

"Say bye to Uncle Hwa." You dust down your clothes as Charli throws her hands around his neck for a tight hug.

"Bye cutiepie." She giggles before taking your hand and meeting her mom and dad outside in the backyard.

"Swear, she's so stuck on Seonghwa." You laugh and hug Junseo.

"Can't blame her." 

"Well, good to know you're alive. And not at Mingi's." You roll your eyes.

"Always ruining the moment. Leave." Soyeon sticks her tongue out and waves.

"I'll call you later to talk more about the trip. Gotta prepare!" She says in an excited tone, one where you can't help but laugh a bit and shake your head.

"Yeah, whatever. I'm charging you double this time." You call out before giving one last wave and heading back into your suite. Seonghwa is still seated on the ground, but he's drinking water and has his bowl pushed aside. "You're not gonna eat more?"

"No, go for it. It's mainly yours. Mrs. Dao gave you spring rolls and extra peanut sauce on the house."

"Aw, I love her. She's so sweet." You take a bite into one. "What're you gonna do today?" He shrugs.

"Probably hang out at Joong's or San's." He looks at you. "Why?"

"Can I come?"

"No?"

"Why not?" You whine playfully, knowing you don't actually wanna join their weird little boy party.

"Because all you're gonna do is flirt with San and we have important business to take care of." You snort and laugh loudly.

"No I'm not! And important business? Like fucking yelling at each other during a game of FIFA?"

"No."

"Right." You roll your eyes. "I'm kidding, I don't wanna join in your sad little no girls allowed party."

"Girls are allowed." He smirks. "Just not you."

"You really are such a dick to me sometimes." He laughs, blocking the pillow from hitting his face.

"What, and you aren't a brat to me?"

"I beg to differ."

"If only you knew." He snorts, pinching your cheek. "I'm just joking, you know I am. You're always welcome to come."

"No, I really don't wanna go. Was just teasing." You finish up your food.

"What're you gonna do then?"

"Work at the restaurant and serve some middle-aged men their beer and food while they ogle at me." You joke and he winces.

"Mmkay well, have fun with that." Seonghwa stands and cleans up his trash before wiping your table down thoroughly. "Make sure to invite me to the wedding or else I'll be pissed."

"You're full of shit, Hwa." He groans when he sees a drop of peanut sauce land onto the surface that he's just cleaned. "Oops."

"I swear to God." He sighs, cleaning it again before shaking his head.

"You love me."

"I beg to differ." He mocks you just as he washes his hands and stretches. "Alright, well I'm out. Get some more rest before you head to the restaurant, you look kinda torn up." He ruffles your hair, causing you to smack his hand away and flip him off.

"Fuck you, get out." He chuckles as he heads out the door and leaves you to your peace.

When Seonghwa gets to his place, he manages to tidy up a bit, shower and throw on some fresh clothes before calling Hongjoong to see what the consensus was for the meeting place. Hongjoong ends up telling him that they're all on their way to San's, giving Seonghwa the green light to head over as well. 

On his way over, he tries to push his thoughts to the back of his mind. He tries his hardest not to overthink, not to focus too much on all the stuff that's happened.

The stuff you said.

He knows it's probably just you being drunk and babbling all this mess, especially now that you're finding interest in San. But as with everyone says, the drunk mind speaks sober thoughts. 

Was there some kind of truth to it?

Did you really see him that way at some point?

Is there a part of you that still feels that way?

"What's wrong with you?" Seonghwa looks at Wooyoung in slight disgust as he steps aside and lets him in. 

"Nothing. Just didn't wanna see you first."

"You're an asshole." Wooyoung laughs. "How does Y/N deal with you? She's so sweet and fun, everything you're not—" Hwa smacks him upside the head. "Ow, see!" Wooyoung continues to complain.

"Speaking of her, how's Y/N?" San eagerly asks as he sits next to Hongjoong on the couch, continuing his journey on Final Fantasy 7 Rebirth.

"All of a sudden." Hongjoong snorts.

"She's good. Recovering from her night, I guess. She's going to work soon."

"Mm. Glad she survived."

"What have you guys been up to?" Seonghwa plops onto the beanbag and scrolls through his phone, finally letting out a breath of relief after his night. At least he could relax and chill out here.

"Just hanging out. Trying to figure out what to eat." Hongjoong looks at him. "You eat already?"

"Yeah, I went to grab some pho for Y/N."

"Okay, thanks for the invite."

"You can take care of yourself." Seonghwa snaps back at Wooyoung, making him mock Hwa in return.

"Aye, are you guys down to head to the mall in a bit? We can just grab food there." San asks, eyes still focused on the TV.

"Why do you need to go to the mall?"

"I just wanna buy some new clothes."

"For what?" Hongjoong chuckles. 

"Listen, I haven't been around for awhile, okay? I started cleaning out a few things from my closet for donations. Plus, I haven't treated myself in a long time cause I've been so focused on the program and what not."

"Mm okay, so what's the real reason?" Wooyoung asks, chomping onto a banana. Seonghwa glances at San from his seat, taking note of how his cheeks and ears turn red and how he's suddenly getting shy. Nervous, even.

And he's not sure how to feel. He has a feeling he might know exactly where this is going, and he's hoping he's wrong. Maybe overthinking. Jumping to conclusions.

"I definitely wanna take Y/N to dinner and catch up with her. See where this goes.." San trails off, causing Seonghwa to pause mid-text— trying his very hardest not to make it too entirely obvious that his heart has dropped from the statement, equally sad and annoyed by the entire situation [for his own selfish reasons].

Fuck.

♡ taglist: @hwasbabygirl @fairyofhueningkai @chngbnwf @tinyteezer @everyonewooeverywhere @pearbunny @mxnsxngie @starhwahwa @woosmaid @yeosangsbbg @jycas @asjkdk @bintificreads @interweab @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs

[arctrooper69]

As Iron Sharpens Iron

"As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another" Proverbs 27:17

Beta-read by @dragonrider9905

Chapter 5:

Previous // Next

Warnings: Hurt feelings and misunderstandings.

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

You felt like you were going to throw up.

“....useful asset… reckless…. irritable… not a member of the team to me…”

You'd gotten back to the ship earlier than planned, entering quietly as not to wake Omega. You froze upon hearing your name in Hunter's voice and then in Tech’s. It felt wrong, listening in to a private conversation, but you couldn't stop the way your heart sped up, sending butterflies swirling about your stomach upon hearing Hunter's voice. He sounded confused, upset even. So against your better judgment, you stayed. Now you wished you hadn't.

Is that really what they think of me? Reckless, irresponsible. An asset.

Not even a member of the team. An asset.

You curled into the pillow, hidden away behind the thick curtains that Wrecker had hung around your bunk.

Probably so that they wouldn't have to see me - so that they can just forget I'm here until I'm useful.

Tears burned hot, soaking the pillow in a silent grief. It hurt. You thought you'd finally found a home - finally found where you belonged. Now you knew that was a lie.

First Hunter. Now the whole squad.

The jagged remains of wishful hope that still lingered in your chest fractured further, splintering like glass.

You could still see it clearly. Though it was only a glimpse caught in nanoseconds, the sight of it branded itself behind your eyes like a hot iron. Hunter and Tara, lips locked in a moment of passion. Her fingers tangled in his hair. His hand on her waist.

The datapad lying forgotten on the bunk at your feet chimed loudly, drawing you back into the moment with a start. Almost instinctively, your fingers curled into fists, hands shaking, nearly drawing blood as your fingernails dug against the skin of your palm, clenching ever tighter until the skin around your knuckles turned white. Another mission. Echo must’ve been out at Cid’s. You scrolled through the dossier he’d sent, annoyance flashing across your face. They’d already assumed you’d be ready and able like nothing had happened.

Nothing has happened - at least not to them.

It was so easy to forget that all the turbulence that boiled under your skin was simply a product of your own mind.

One more mission. One more day.

You’d give them this. One last mission because you couldn’t bear to let them down. No matter what they thought of you, the love you felt for this squad was still there scrambling in a desperately futile attempt to repair the shattered pieces of hope that stubbornly refused to leave. Hope like that was dangerous. You’d only get hurt again - yet it continued to fight back.

But what if…

No.

Could it have been a misunderstanding?

No. Stop.

Am I overreacting for nothing?

If you keep this up you’ll just end up worse than before. Just accept that you don’t belong here. One last mission then you’ll leave.

But I don’t want to go…

Yes you do. It’s better this way.

Taking a deep breath, you wiped your face and quickly headed to the fresher keeping your eyes down lest anyone see the telling red-rimmed, swollen eyes and splotchy patches adorning your face.

It’s all professional now. This is just another job. The mission comes before all else. Emotions get you killed.

The cool water soothed the heat of your skin. You stared into the mirror making no attempts to dry the wet dripping down your face, allowing it to wash away all evidence of hurt. It was surprisingly easy to allow yourself to slip back into the gruff bounty hunter facade you’d kept up for so long before joining the Batch.

Focus on the task at hand. Get the job done.

Sitting back down on the bed, you drew the curtains again and unlocked the small trunk that held what little belongings you had. Sitting inside was the trooper doll companion you were making for Omega - stuffed with one of Hunter's old bandanas. It was only half finished.

And probably won’t ever be now, you thought as you picked it up, fingers running gently over the soft material. The tears threatened to come again at the thought of a memory that was no longer yours to make.

Something stuck out from beneath an extra jacket. Against your better judgment, you pulled it out and sighed. A bittersweet nostalgia knotted your stomach. There you were beside Hunter - Omega squeezed between you, smiling proudly despite the grime that covered her tunic. It was her first training exercise. You smiled proudly down at her. Even Hunter sported some semblance of a grin.

The fingertips encroaching on the sides of the image denoted Wrecker as the camera operator. Tech and Echo engaged in ship repairs in the background.

What you wouldn't give to go back to that time. Everything seemed simpler then.

Swallowing hard, you put the holopic back at the bottom of the trunk, covering it fully with the jacket. You shoved the remainder of your supplies into your pack and shut the trunk, letting the lock click into place with a resounding finality.

Clenching your teeth, you took a deep breath. One more mission. One more day.

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

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[thefandomenchantress]

So everyone's talking about the new episode right now. Understandably so, since it had so much new evidence! In fact, I'm going to talk about it as well. However, instead of focusing on the bombshells David dropped or Levi's secret, I'm going to do what I do best: Focus on Ace and ignore literally everything else. /hj

(Spoilers for Chapter 2, Episode 12!)

All joking aside, I'm sure you're wondering what the hell I'm talking about. Ace literally said, like, five lines of dialogue this episode. And yeah, you're right. Actually, that sort of ties into what I'm talking about.

Okay, time to explain. The thing I want to talk about is this: Ace is weirdly...Not as confrontational as usual this episode? Let me show what I mean through examples.

What's so special about this moment? Well, strangely enough, it's what comes after it.

Now, when I first watched the episode I laughed and thought, "Oh, someone insulted Ace, now Ace is going to be angry" and then they never cut back to him being angry. They just said that (admittedly very funny) line and moved on.

And after it happened, I didn't think too much of it. I was far too consumed by the episode's greatness to care too much, and Ace's reaction wasn't necessary for the scene anyway.

These two lines aren't as strong for what I'm trying to say, so I'll lump them together.

But I thought it was worth mentioning that in the first photo, Ace joins in with Nico and Levi on saying Arturo should've been better at his job. But after Arturo scolds the three of them, as well as everyone else by extension, it only cuts back to Nico and Levi. Which is fine, it can be assumed that since Ace's comment was a late addition, shorter, and didn't have too much substance, him not getting a reaction makes sense (I mean he's not the one who got called a whore like Jesus Christ Arturo--).

In the second photo, Hu tells Ace to stop blaming Nico because they have an airtight alibi, and Ace...Just shuts up. Nico complains about being interrupted and they move on to other people's alibis (or more like the lack thereof). Which sorta makes sense, Ace can't really refute her point because he can't prove she didn't have breakfast with Nico. Then again, he could've made a point to say no one can prove they did have breakfast together, since they were in private, but still. Maybe Ace is too scared to seriously argue with Hu after that slap, haha.

It's this last example that actually made me notice that there may be anything resembling a pattern here:

During this part of the episode, I was immediately reminded of J's line about Ace being incapable of being quiet and expected Ace to refute her point. After all, it's basically the same as refuting her earlier point. He just has to say that he's not always spontaneously combusting every 5 seconds like she thinks again. He's not a grenade launcher in a glass house. More like a small batch of fireworks, thank you very much.

But Ace doesn't say anything. This is only made more obvious by Charles immediately cutting off the conversation there.

And this moment made me think something. Keep in mind I could be totally overthinking this an unnecessary amount, but that's what most of theories end up being anyway.

Since the conversation is immediately ended by Charles, DRDTdev could've ended J and Ace's interaction off with Ace trying to insult her back, maybe him going "Listen here, you--" before Charles cuts them off because they have a trial they need to finish. But DRDTdev decided to not make Ace have any reaction whatsoever to this insult, at least not one the audience can see. And based on how loud and opinionated Ace is, I'm guessing that if the comment did make him have an extreme reaction, we definitely would have heard him say as much. But we don't.

I think what makes all this so weird to me is that whenever someone is condescending to Ace, usually he's very upset and it shows. In trial 1, we see him be one of the few to cave pretty quick to the idea that they were wrong and that Teruko isn't the culprit. Yet when Whit says Charles isn't the culprit, Ace suddenly feels very strongly about it, because Whit actively talked down to him about it, (I think Whit said something like "use your big boy words" but I'm too lazy to rewatch the whole trial to find it) and now Ace doesn't want to agree with him (Or at least that was how I interpreted it, he's so petty I love him). So you'd think he'd be more resistant against those who kept making comments about his intelligence or demeanor, but so far, he hasn't.

That could mean two things. One, he's the culprit and is trying to at least vaguely avoid unnecessary confrontation and bringing attention to himself. But honestly, I doubt even that would stop Ace from impulsively insulting people back.

The second option is this:

My first thought and explanation in my head for this connects to Ace's overall arc. Let's recall Ace's secret quote:

"I don't know what to do with myself anymore"

This line gives off a sense of hopelessness. Like Ace has completely given up on everything.

And for some reason, a couple of the moments above made me feel, at least slightly, the same thing. If Charles says Ace is so stupid he's never seen anyone more stupid ever before in his life and didn't think it scientifically possible for anyone to be that stupid? Ace has no response. If J says another line about Ace's explosive demeanor? Ace has no response.

I don't know, something about Ace just not bothering to refute them makes me feel that something is off. He complains that everyone sees him as an idiot and how he hates it earlier in the chapter. He seems so distressed as he does it, it's a full-on break down.

And yet, when people do exactly what he was talking about here, he can no longer muster up a response. It's like he's given up on changing their minds. He knows they think he's stupid, and impulsive, and intolerable, and he thinks there's nothing he can do about it anymore. Blowing up at them will only make them think they're right. So he's given up on doing anything at all.

I suppose my line of reasoning is that maybe small details like this will pile up over time, as Ace, unnoticeably at first, loses some of his fire bit by bit, until inside he's just...Empty. He doesn't know what to do. He's so tired, and he doesn't know anything that can help or distract him from his situation. And seeing as the secret quotes seem to embody a character's mindset at death...That seems to be the place Ace might die at. Perhaps even at his own hands, who knows.

Is that an overreaction on my part? Possibly. Am I overanalyzing microscopic details? Yes. But that's my job.

So anyways I really enjoyed this episode and Ace was great too! Yippee for the return of DRDT, and my Eden culprit idea not being completely debunked yet!

[hannie-dul-set]

HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS [4].

SYNOPSIS. wherein your friend offers a room for you to crash in while your dorm is being renovated, but fails to mention that your new housemates don’t know how to talk to women (oh, and they also have an ongoing bet about you, too).

PAIRINGS. choi soobin, choi beomgyu, lee heeseung, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, park sunghoon x female! reader. GENRE. housemates! au, rom-com, sitcom, reverse harem time baby. WARNINGS. general menace behavior, swearing, too much mentions of kissing and making out, it's beomgyu's turn to have a mental breakdown. WORD COUNT. 3.6k.

TAGLIST. @cerealdreamwriter @tyongff-ff @dinonuguaegi @certifiedmoa @blueberrgyuu0 @primantha @blu3bell4 @nunugget @hoshi-is-ult-bbg @captivq @tocupid @seosalad @ddazed-lhs @gyuszie @mifuyuyo @error-cant-function @twocupsofsuga @flowerbe0m @dangerousconnoisseurbanana @laviesm @keikeu @elavin @chaemmie @rikisly

NOTE. the chapter title is clickbait, actually. anyway, it's the beomgyu chapter! this one is for both the e2l enjoyers and haters!! hope you enjoy whatever the fuck this is!

MASTERLIST | NEXT >

CHAPTER 4 — kisses? kisses.

IT’S NOT OFTEN THAT YOU GET TO STAY AT HOME FOR AN ENTIRE DAY. Supposedly, you and your friends had plans for the beach, but due to some circumstances that included one of their cars breaking down, it had to be canceled. You send an “Oh no, that’s too bad. Sad face. Sad face,” through text before punching your fist into the air in celebration and jumping back into the warm, welcoming embrace of your bedsheets, practically melting into the mattress.

Your plan is to stay in bed the whole day. Until you get hungry, so you force yourself out of your blankets and zombie-walk all the way down to the kitchen where you uncharacteristically find Soobin tinkering with the oven. He’s usually holed up in his room doing god knows what, so you’re curious to see what he’s up to.

You clear your throat to indicate your arrival. “Hey.” Your voice causes him to drop the tray a little too early onto the counter. “What’s that?”

“Oh, um. I was baking a little.” You’ve come to discover that Soobin can only talk to you when he’s not looking at you, so you say nothing when he focuses his gaze on the rather delicious looking arrangement of chocolate chip cookies on the tray instead of maintaining eye contact with you. “Y—you can have some— ah, careful! It’s still hot.”

It is still hot but it also tastes really fucking good. The cookie crumbles in your mouth and your eyes sparkle as you shoot him a thumbs up of approval. “Whoa. You can sell these.”

Soobin keeps his head down, but his pink ears are on full display. It’s cute. He lets you snack on as many cookies as you want and unties his equally pink apron. “Ah. I forgot.” You stop munching on the third cookie and raise a curious brow. His voice is hesitant when he says, “I have to leave for an appointment, but the cookies haven’t cooled yet so I can’t store them in the pantry yet.”

“You can leave it to me. Go do your thing.”

“Then...excuse me.”

He takes out the rest of the trays from the oven before shuffling off. Not long after, Heeseung’s nose pokes through the kitchen, beckoned by the scent of the freshly baked goods. “Soobin made them,” you show off on his behalf. He stuffs a bite into his cheeks before leaving. Apparently he also has somewhere to be.

It’s like Soobin’s cookies are luring them all down. Jake rushes down and wordlessly grabs a bunch before running out the door, saying that he’s late for his flight or something. Sunghoon shows up next, asking if you slept well last night as he picks out once from the batch, and your heart swells with tender pride at his attempt to strike a conversation. They grow up so fast. “Take care,” you bid him goodbye. He nods and heads out for his shift at The Lounge.

Jay also comes down for the cookies. “Got any plans today, champ?” he asks.

“Absolutely nothing at all.”

“Cool beans.”

“Very cool.” You push the tray towards him. He steals another bite. “Where are you headed?”

“Some lecture about fabrics. I heard they’ll be giving out some very nice gingham for participants at the end.” You can barely catch what he’s saying with the cookie wedged between his teeth as he pulls on his coat, but you tell him to have fun and, like the rest, watch as he leaves the house.

By the time it grows quiet, there are only five cookies left on the tray and you’re relieved Soobin had made more than one batch. It’d be a shame if he couldn’t even taste his own cooking. You carefully throw them all into a container, but pause upon realizing that Beomgyu is the only one who hasn’t come down, so he also hasn’t tried them yet.

He isn’t exactly your favorite resident. And although you aren’t particularly fond of Beomgyu, you also don’t want to spend the rest of your stay here with any bad blood with any of the boys. So you fish out a few pieces from the container and carefully arrange them on a nice looking plate. You even pour a glass of orange juice for him. Acting like a dumb little housewife for a guy you don’t even like a lot sure hurts your fucking pride, but you want to shove your sincerity up Choi Beomgyu’s ass until it forces him to be nice to you.

You’re extra careful when you climb up the stairs, hands full with the snack you prepared. It poses a struggle when you have to knock on the door, so you call out his name instead and hope for a response.

“It’s open— fucking piece of shit. You useless son of a fuck!”

Well, that doesn’t sound very inviting. 

But you invite yourself in anyway because after clearing things up with Sunghoon, you feel like you can conquer everyone else with ease. You’re overconfident. That was your first mistake.

The moment you crack open the door, your ears are attacked by aggressive keyboard noises and Beomgyu is hunched over in front of his monitor— three monitors, actually. You’re scared he’s about to destroy the computer with how rough he’s smashing every key, but he leans back not long after with an annoyed grunt and starts clicking things on the screen. “What do you want?” he asks without looking at you. It’s starting to rise, your blood pressure. You hope you last until the end of this exchange.

“Soobin baked cookies. I’m here to bring you some.”

He pulls down his headphones to his neck and the chair swivels to face you. An awfully aggravating move which is only exacerbated when Beomgyu’s eyes land on your offering and he stifles out a scoff. “Why? You trying to act like my wife, or some shit?”

You know what, fuck this, you’re not dealing with his ass.

“I’d rather kill myself than be your stupid fucking wife.” The desire to pour the sweet, sweet glass of orange all over his gaming setup nearly overtakes you, but you’re sensible enough. You settle with pouring it on his head instead. “Enjoy your drink, asshole.”

Maybe that was overkill, but you’re mad and sometimes you do impulsive shit (case in point, chasing down Sunghoon to his workplace). You would’ve smashed the plate on his face too, but Soobin’s cookies are too precious for that so you keep them intact when you stomp out his room, slamming the door shut in the process. It’s a good thing the rest of the guys are out of the house because the visual of you angrily marching into the kitchen and stuffing the rest of the cookies into the tupperware with a tightly knitted frown would definitely rouse some questions, and you can’t guarantee answering those questions nicely and possibly making a few of them cry (again).

The pantry door swings open and shut with a harsh noise when you enter to store Soobin’s baked goods. You place them next to the loaves of packaged bread on the middle shelf before letting out a heavy sigh. Beomgyu has ruined your day of relaxation and the only way to fix it is a good nap.

Unfortunately for you, that won’t be possible anymore. Unless you don’t mind napping in the dark recluse of your home pantry because when you attempt to pull open the door— it won’t budge.

Oh no. Oh, for fuck’s sake.

The door is stuck. You’re stuck. You have no one to blame but Choi Beomgyu.

Having an orange juice shower wasn’t part of Beomgyu’s calculations.

In fact, he wasn’t exactly calculating anything. He just spat out the first sentence that popped in his head and it ended up in a citrus-scented disaster. Maybe he should start using his head more the next time he has a conversation with you. That is if you still want to have anything to do with him. Beomgyu may have a dumb mouth, but he isn’t blind or stupid. He knows you don’t like him, and that might be his fault entirely.

Shit, this better not ruin my hair, he thinks as he runs his head under the bathroom sink, rinsing out the sugar from his roots but his shirt still smells of orange juice even after he’s finished drying up, yet he can’t be bothered to get a change of clothes so he just returns to his already ruined game of Counter Strike with a groan.

It’s not that Beomgyu hates you. In fact, he thinks you’re really cool and funny, but he’s emotionally constipated so he masks his chronic rizzlessness by being a massive douche. It doesn’t help that you sound really hot when you tell him to fuck off or swear at his general direction. The problem is, he can’t really tell you that, so he continues being a prick and picking fights with you whenever he can. Aren’t girls supposed to be into that crap? Beomgyu doesn’t watch a lot of romance films, but he’s seen how people thirst over Mr. Darcy. His Twitch chat also goes crazy when he swears on stream, and last time he checked a good chunk of his viewership are women. 

He’s sure he was on the right track. Until today— because that look on your face before you stomped out of the room was less hot-scary and more scary-scary. It haunts his mind as he plays another round with Yeonjun and the others, a ghost behind his eyelids. They’re yelling at him to get his shit together through the voice chat and that’s when he knows he needs to step out his room to get a breather.

Somehow, his feet lead him down to the kitchen instead of the covered deck. And his eyes are searching for your pissed off expression instead of the Red Bull his tongue is craving.

Must be in her room, he thinks. Cold air hits his face when he hooks out the energy drink from the fridge. Now that he thinks about it, it’s oddly quiet in the house. Usually, there’d at least be screaming or noise from Jake’s shitty relaxation playlist, but it’s dead silent right now.

Beomgyu prods around the island, looking for the Soobin cookies you mentioned. The only sign he has of their existence are the crumbs on the three trays splayed out in the sink.

Crash!

Okay, what the hell was that?

Thud.

It’s coming from the pantry. The fuck, is this house haunted?

Now, Beomgyu doesn’t get scared of shit. He makes his entire living from not batting an eye at video game jumpscares, so this is nothing. 

Thunk.

But if it’s his own house that’s haunted, he’s not gonna let the chance of kicking ghost ass slip through his fingers. The only reasonable thing to do is to kick the pantry door open.

So he kicks the pantry door open and bulldozes in.

“Wait, don’t leave the door—”

Slam!

It shuts behind him, depleting all the light in the room. He’s shocked to see you instead of a transparent old man from the 1800s. “Great,” you huff. “Now we’re both stuck here.” You’re the ghost. You’ve been the ghost this whole time.

Beomgyu turns around and rattles the door knob, but the door doesn’t budge. “It’s useless,” he hears you say from behind. His arm deflates to the side and he slumps, defeated. “Do you have your phone with you?”

“No. It’s in my room.”

“Well damn,” you flatly say. “Guess we gotta wait until one of the boys arrives.”

He turns back to face you, eyes narrowed in both suspicion and curiosity because what the fuck could you have been doing in here alone that made so much noise. “Hey, I know you hate me, but you don’t need to look so disgusted.” He isn’t disgusted. He’s about to lose his fucking mind because what’s the point of having a giant ass mansion when the pantry is so, so goddamned tiny that he can practically feel your body heat seeping into his own skin? 

One more step closer and he’d be practically pressed up all over you. It’s a good thing you decide to sink down and tuck yourself as close to the back shelf as possible, pressing your knees to your chest as you look up at him with unmistakable annoyance. “Sit down. We’re gonna be here for a while.”

“I don’t hate you,” he obliges your suggestion, mimicking your position against the jammed door. 

“I’m not stupid. You’ve been a bitch to me the moment I stepped into this house.”

“Well, I fucking don’t. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

“Sure.” You wrinkle your nose. “And I’m absolutely elated by the fact that I have to be stuck with you here for the next two, three hours.”

Now, you don’t need to rub it in his face that you can’t stand him. Looks like that bet prize is as good as out of reach, but at this point he doesn’t really care anymore— undoing his fuckups is the more pressing issue at hand. His throat is dry and burning when he attempts to swallow, but nearly chokes on his spit when the particularly malicious death stare you’re giving him falls into his attention. Maybe he should say something. “Do you really think I hate you?”

“Well,” you cross your arms. “I’m at the very least sure you don’t like me.”

How does he fix this? There’s no tutorial or cheat code for this kind of situation. He’s stumped, he’s totally stumped. “Isn’t like— isn’t enemies to lovers supposed to be a popular trope?”

Something tells him he made the wrong move with how your glare suddenly softens and becomes drenched in pity. He doesn’t like that. He prefers it when you look at him like you want to stab a knife into his gut and twist it counterclockwise. “I don’t know which bastard lied to you, but acting like a stuck-up asshole doesn’t fly in real life, buddy.”

Beomgyu lets your words sink in before slowly uttering, “It…it does not?”

“No. No, it does not,” you confirm. A beat of silence. “Beomgyu, do you have a crush on me?”

The thing about small, locked places is that he can’t run away. Beomgyu wants to run away. He can’t do that. So he swears at you instead. “Fuck off.” You have deemed his enemies to love strategy futile, but you’ve backed him in a corner (literally), so he has no idea what to do. Distraction— a distraction would be nice to ward off the rising heat in his cheeks and the scent of fresh orange wafting into his senses that awfully reminds him of your disdain. There’s a stash of kisses chocolates he’s been raiding on the shelves somewhere. Chocolates are always good for stress, and he’s very fucking stressed right now.

“What are you doing?” you ask, following up your curious glances by standing up and digging your nose a little too close into his business as he fishes out a piece of chocolate hidden behind the stack of spices. A gasp rips out from your throat. “You bitch! You’re the one who’s been stealing my kisses!”

Beomgyu winces and nearly chokes on the sweet. “If you put it like that, people are going to get the wrong fucking idea.”

“What people? There’s no one else here,” you sass, arms crossed with a particularly grated expression. “But alright. I’ll let it slide. Give me a kiss, I think my blood pressure is rising.”

“Quit saying it like that,” he grunts, dropping three pieces onto your open palm. 

You tear one open, carefully placing the chocolate in your mouth. “Speaking of making out.” No one said anything about making out, you’re driving him absolutely nuts. “This sorta feels like we’re back in high school playing seven minutes in heaven.” You pause, chewing on another piece. “Except I’m pretty sure it’s been way longer than seven minutes. Fuck. When are the others coming back?”

It’s like a flip switched after admitting to not hating you. You’ve stopped glaring at him and instead reserved yourself to looking at him like he’s some sort of sick puppy you’ve decided to take in. Like now— lips slightly pursed, brows slightly knitted, and it makes him want to bang his head against the door because bleeding from a self-inflicted concussion would hurt his pride less than being on the receiving end of your pity. “You’ve never played seven minutes in heaven before?” Your tone is so soft, it kills him. 

“Why would I want to play that stupid game?”

“Hey, don’t slander my high school memories! That’s how I got my first kiss.” Again with the goddamned kisses, fuck at this point you’re doing it on purpose. Beomgyu refuses to look at you, grumbling unintelligible complaints under his breath. The chocolate tastes too sweet on his tongue and it’s making him nauseous. “Don’t tell me...you’ve never had your first—”

“What the fuck is up with you and kisses, seriously what the fuck are you trying to—”

He finally snaps, but quickly quells his outburst. It’s all your fault. You’re riling him up on purpose. When he thinks you’d snap at him back like usual, you don’t. Instead you continue looking at him with that unusual softened expression. “It’s alright, Beomgyu. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.” He wants to kill himself. “Wanna kiss?”

His shoulders slacken. He gives up. There’s no way he can win against the impenetrable force that is you. “No, you can have your stupid chocolate all to yourself,” he huffs, scrunching himself up further on the ground.

“I’m not talking about the chocolate. I’m asking if you wanna make out.”

What the fuck.

What the fuck are you saying right now?

“It’s gonna take a while for us to get out of here and it’s not like we have anything better to do.” You throw another kiss into your mouth and you’re talking so nonchalantly like you just asked him to pass the salt, to open the fridge door— not to engage in something totally non-friendly, non-platonic, toeing the line of propriety. Does Jake know your level of insanity when he suggested you live with them? Is Jake aware that you just casually ask people to exchange spit with you and die? “Well, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I’m just giving you the opportunity to experience the two things you have yet to experience. Totally up to you, buddy.”

How could you ask to kiss and call him buddy in the same breath? Beomgyu is convinced you’re not normal, but that should’ve been evident with how much your very presence tortures them every single god damned day.

He says something. He’s sure he says something, but it leaves his mouth before he could register them and the consequences of his impulsivity arrive when you’re suddenly a lot closer than he remembers and his brain jumps ship and he’s panicking. He panics when your fist crumples his orange-stained collar. He panics because he’s never kissed anyone before so what the fuck is he supposed to do now?

Shit, he really didn’t think this through. Holy fuck, you’re actually serious, you’re actually about to kiss him. 

“Did you say the cookies are in the pantry? I’m gonna get— oh shit, this thing is stuck.”

The door rattles. Alarm bells ring. Beomgyu pushes you off in a panic and a loaf of bread falls to the floor when you bump against the rack. Warm light spills into the tiny storage. He can clearly see the ruffled expression you’re wearing.

“Well. These aren’t cookies.”

He snaps his head up to see Heeseung standing at the foot of the entrance, clearly confused and alarmed by the unusual scene in the pantry. Soobin’s head pops in as well. You’re rubbing the back of your head when you spring up to your feet. “Holy shit, thank god. I thought we’d be stuck there for much longer.” 

Huh.

“What happened?” Heeseung trails behind you as you leave.

“Stored the cookies and got trapped in the process. Beomgyu tried helping and failed. Jake needs to fix that fucking door.”

It was so easy for you to leave him behind after the mess you’ve made. Soobin offers to help him up, but Beomgyu’s mood has already soured beyond salvation so he ignores the outstretched arm and shovels himself up with a grunt and quickly catches up to you— you, who’s already sitting on the island and enjoyed your freedom with a box of macarons Heeseung brought. You, who’s nonchalantly offering him the powder pink dessert that probably looks like his very own reflection.

“Want some?” you ask, mouth full. He stares at the crumbs near your lips. It pisses him off. “They’re really good.”

“Don’t talk to me.”

You furrow your brows. “Are you upset because we didn’t get to—”

“I said don’t talk to me.”

He’s not upset. He’s not. He is. He’s not. Maybe he is but that’s not the fucking point here. The point is you’re evil and the absolute worst and how can you dangle a gold chain in front of him only to snatch it back away? Actually, it’s not entirely your fault. Beomgyu’s eyes narrow at Heeseung who’s a second away from booking it because he doesn’t want to get dragged in your crossfire. Too late. He’s already involved. He fucked up the moment he opened that god forsaken door. This has simultaneously been the best and worst day of his life because even though you've told him acting like a dick doesn't work— at least he knows you don't mind kissing him

If only Heeseung hadn't opened the fucking door. Beomgyu’s gonna fuck him up further in League tonight.

HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

[lincolndjarin]

Best Kept Secret

chapter twenty one : te mirci't

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 9.0k

summary : reader does a lot of thinking, and a lot of expressing of said thoughts

warnings, etc. : language, angst, canon typical violence, smut smut smut smut, p in v smut, food play sort of kind of, din djarin nearly creams his pants over the concept of domesticity, sort of a dom/sub thing, switch!reader & switch!mando, din has a breeding kink and it's addressed, reader has like zero chill this chapter, dirty talk, men whimpering (hooray!), light bondage, use of handcuffs, unprotected sex

a/n : ik y'all are hype about breeding kink din but i'm gonna real quick say that i will not throw in like a surprise pregnancy in this fic, cause it hasn't been tagged with that thus far and sometimes it irks me when i'm knee deep in a fic and suddenly the reader is pregnant without warning and it wasn’t tagged,, so yeah. it would be different if i advertised this as a pregnancy fic from the get go but i didn't so i'm not gonna spring that on people. (reader could still potentially end up pregnant at the END of the fic (possibly maybe who knows) but there will not be any surprise pregnancy, sorry!) that's it lmao, just wanted to throw that out there.

“It means I love you.” 

You aren’t entirely sure how long you stare at him, looking rather silly with your jaw practically on the floor. 

How many times has he said it without you even knowing? How long has he loved you? Maker, your mind is racing as you try to recall when the first time he said it would have been.

You’ve already said it to him. 

Albeit you didn’t realize what you were saying but you’d said those words to him. And hearing you say them had worked him up so much that he’d fucked you like it was his last night alive. 

He doesn’t seem to have much to say now that he’s dropped that bomb on you. You just stare at each other in this blistering silence for an eternity. Until the smell of burning has you shooting out of bed, scrambling towards the oven as you grab the lone oven mit off the counter, removing the smoking baking trays quickly, propping open the single window above the sink and tossing the ruined cakes under the faucet.

“Kriff.” You lean up against the counter, staring at where he’s currently getting up from the bed to join you. Are you a terrible person if you just ignore it? Because currently the last thing you want to do is think about it. “I’m gonna start a new batch, I lost track of time with this one.” You whisper towards him, never actually meeting that thin black line of his helmet. 

“You don’t have to say it back.” He whispers back to you, taking a seat at the table. 

You know you don’t have to. 

Honestly the pressure of having to say it is the least of your worries. The most troubling part of this situation is the question that now plagues you which is, do you love him? 

You rinse out the last batch of batter from the bowl before starting a new one.

You’ve always been so hesitant with him. Even from the start. You wouldn’t let yourself think about him, then you wouldn’t let yourself feel for him, care for him, want him. At one point you wouldn’t even let yourself like him. 

So to think about if you love him? 

The only thing you’ve ever let yourself do is hate him. And you never even really did that. 

“I didn’t mean to upset you.” He leans forward in his chair, his elbows resting on his knees. 

Shit. You’ve been quiet for too long.

“I’m fine, sorry, just… upset about the cakes.” You both know it’s a lie. But neither of you says a thing. He just nods. You work in silence, willing your mind to think of anything else as you scrape the burnt cake tin off into the sink before refilling it with the new batch of batter. As you slide the tin into the oven you turn, unable to face him you turn your gaze elsewhere, to the single shelf in his home. 

A few days ago when you were here it was covered in assorted pieces of metal and scrap. Now it’s mostly bare. In a desperate attempt to change the subject you walk over, picking up one of the few remaining scraps. 

“What happened to all your stuff? You hold a small metal ball between your fingers as he walks up behind you, resting his head on your shoulder as he leans down. You feel the chill of beskar against your skin. 

“I used it all.” He’s still being far too vague about all this and you frown, holding the ball up in front of his face. 

“You forgot this piece.” He takes it from you as you say it, you don’t remember him taking his gloves off but they are, his bare hands holding it like it’s a precious gemstone. 

“This isn’t a part of my secret project,” He murmurs, rolling the ball between his fingers. “this belonged to the kid.” 

You have to remind yourself not to pry, that you promised yourself you’d let him talk about it on his own. His free hand snakes around your waist as he stares longingly at the metal piece, you say nothing, giving him the option to go on if he wants. After a brief moment of pause, he continues. 

“I tried to buy him a proper toy. Just once. He used to play with this, I thought maybe he was just bored because we spent so much time on the Crest. On one of my jobs I stopped and got him this little stuffed frog toy.”

You think of the frog he picked up from the lake all those moons ago. A pang of sorrow in your chest.

Every time he talks about the kid it seems like he’s talking more to himself than to you, this time is no different. He adjusts himself, standing up straighter so his chin rests atop your head now. He sways you gently to a song that only he hears.

“He tried to eat the damn thing, I tried to explain that it wasn’t for eating but he didn’t seem to care. Once he realized I wasn’t gonna let him eat it he lost interest, threw it into the fresher and went off to find this again.” He sets the ball back onto the shelf and just holds you for a moment. Just when you’re about to reach down to touch the hand he’s resting on your stomach he speaks again, in a whisper, like he isn’t sure he wants you to hear what he’s saying. “I used to worry that he was bored. Spending so much time on the ship with just me, without any of the things a child usually grows up with.” His grip on your waist tightens. “I thought for the longest time that he’d be happier somewhere else. Now I wonder if maybe he was content with what we had.” 

The more you let him talk out his feelings the more you realize that deep down Din is one thing above all. 

Someone who doesn’t think he is deserving of love. 

You turn around in his grip so you’re facing him and don’t hesitate to wrap your arms around his waist, holding him tight. You might not be ready to tell him you love him but that doesn’t mean you can’t show him that he is cared for. He doesn’t move for a moment but eventually holds you back. 

He makes no effort to pull away so you don’t either. Staying like that until you have to get the cakes out of the oven before you burn another batch. He follows you in silence as you set the new batch on the table, he reaches for one and you smack his hand away. 

“You’re gonna burn your hand, stop that. And I still need to frost them.” 

You turn back to the book for the recipe, happy that the two of you seem to be in mutual agreement to not talk about the current situation. As you start pouring the sugar to make the icing you hear a hiss of air, on instinct you turn to face the noise, not realizing until it’s too late that you shouldn’t. 

You should feel regret.

But Maker, how could you. 

Your eyes fixed on the way he parts his plush lips to take the chunk of pastry he tore off into his mouth, his finger lingering on his bottom lip and that tongue. Darting out to lick his fingers clean. The way the corners of his mouth turn up ever so slightly. You know you shouldn’t look, he’s got the helmet pulled up just enough that you can see the tip of his nose which means he doesn’t even know you’re looking, there’s metal between his eyes and you. You can’t, this is so bad, shit. You just keep finding reasons to not look away, especially now that he’s smiling. You always thought his smile would be condescending, maybe a triumphant smirk, but it’s so… dorky. He’s got such a dopey grin.

Stars, he’s got a dimple. 

Are you still breathing?   

And you can finally see the facial hair you’ve only ever felt brush up against you. Surprisingly well kept, with a few small bare patches. You want nothing more than to lean forward and kiss each one of them but you’re quickly reminded of how bad this entire situation is as you hastily turn back around. Stirring the bowl in front of you, acting as if nothing happened. Only a few seconds after you’re facing the counter again do you hear the airlock reseal. 

You hear a sharp inhale and a part of you worries he knows you accidentally looked but he hisses again before cursing.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” You can hear him breathing heavily through his mouth into the modulator.

Thank the gods.

“I warned you.” You chastise him, turning around and pouring a generous amount of the cinnamon sugar icing onto each of the cakes while they’re still hot so it absorbs into them. “These need to sit overnight in the conservator.” 

“Okay, should I put them in now or when I get back tonight?” 

You know what he’s really asking. 

He wants to know if he’ll be staying with you or coming home alone.

The answer is obvious to you as you nudge the conservator open with your foot, sliding the tins onto one of the shelves. 

“I’ll do this now since you won’t be around to. Should we go?” You slip your shoes back on, watching as a bit of tension leaves his shoulders. 

“Sure.”

★

It’s a quiet walk back but it isn’t really uncomfortable. You just want to get him back to your room, where he’ll hopefully help you forget about this whole mess. 

You waste no time when you get to your chambers. You drag him to the closet, struggling to remove his armor, carefully setting each piece on the floor while he simultaneously lifts your shirt up over your head. Once you have every piece of beskar removed, you find yourself tumbling to the floor as he practically tackles you into the blankets. Both of you fumble for the lamp until finally you manage to flip the switch and it’s like he can’t get the helmet off fast enough because in what feels like a single second, you’re shrouded in darkness, you hear the the sound of air, a thud onto the ground, and his lips are on yours. 

You’re waiting for something more to happen, he’d been so urgent just a moment ago but now that you’re here he’s just kissing you.  

Of course you aren’t complaining. Every kiss with him feels like a blessing from the Maker themself. You’re just a little surprised. 

You had sort of hoped he had plans to ravage you solely for the purpose of distracting you from the question, still searing your every thought, demanding your attention. But instead he kisses you one last time before laying atop your chest, arms wrapped around you. You think about teasing him but there’s something cathartic about this. His willingness to just be with you without searching for more. So you let him.

And when he inevitably falls asleep, his monstrous snores filling the small space, you’re left alone with your thoughts. 

Well, thought. 

Do you love him? 

Do you want to love him? 

Loving him means too much. 

You tangle your fingers in his curls, in an attempt to soothe yourself. 

Loving him is complicated. It means you’ll have to finally answer the rest of the questions you don’t want to so much as think about.

Kids? Marriage? Kodo? Any sort of future.

Loving him puts him at risk. 

He’s always been at risk. His choice to love you meant putting his life on the line. Everyday he wanted to be yours was a day that he could be dragged off by one of your husbands unlimited guard members and killed. 

Loving him means understanding that you’re on a clock. A clock to get off of Naboo as quickly as possible, to somewhere far away to hunker down. To hide from the inevitable onslaught of search parties that would come after a missing royal. 

They’d send bounty hunters.

Kodo doesn’t even like you, but if you ran off with the man he hired to protect you? He would stop at nothing to get you back. The thought of what he would do to Din when he inevitably found the two of you makes your blood run cold. 

But you need to push those thoughts away. Yes, they are important but they shouldn’t impact your feelings. Because at the end of the day you either love him or you don’t. 

And you can’t even seem to figure that out. 

You’ve never been in love before, you don’t really have a frame of reference. 

You’ve certainly never felt for anyone the way you feel for him. 

Is that love? 

If you weren’t already married would you have said it back?

You aren’t even really a wife at this point. 

You’re a prisoner. 

You aren’t sure when he woke up but he brings you back to reality with a kiss to your chest. 

“You should be asleep, princess.” His voice is gravely, still thick with exhaustion. You run your hands along his vast shoulders in an attempt to soothe him back to sleep. 

“So should you.” You whisper into the darkness, he hums softly in response. 

It goes quiet again. His arms tighten around you and you know he remains awake, every so often he’ll place a chaste kiss to your breast. 

Would it be cruel to bring it up again?

At this point he doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest that you didn’t reciprocate the sentiment and you can’t keep fighting these battles alone. 

If you love each other, talking about these things is something you would do. 

It might be nice. To not be alone with these thoughts for once. 

“Din?” 

He hums again in response. You feel the scratch of his stubble against your chest as his head turns in your direction. 

You should let him sleep. Shut up and not bother him with this. 

“What does love mean to you?”

It’s such a corny question but you really are curious.

“What did you say?” For a moment you’re worried you’ve upset him but his tone makes you think he genuinely didn’t hear you. 

“What’s it like, to love someone?” 

He chuckles softly and a wave of relief washes over you. 

“That’s an awfully complicated question, cyare.”

“Okay, then, how did you know?” You purposefully avoid saying the words, “that you loved me.” 

“It sort of snuck up on me. It started my first week with you, when being with you started feeling less like a job and more like an honor.” 

Does he have to be so good with words? Even in this state, barely awake, he manages to be a goddamn poet. 

“Eventually it got to a point where I couldn’t ignore it anymore.” He mumbles his words into your skin. 

“When was that?”

“When you gave me a birthday.” 

Right before he had ended things. 

You don’t have to ask to know now that that's why he did it. 

“And that was when you were sure?”

“Yes. That was when I knew I loved you.” 

If he’s upset about you not saying it back he doesn’t make it known, he says it so casually.

“What does it feel like?” You run your fingers along the scar on the back of his head. 

“It feels like being afraid. There is a certain vein of fear that I had never known prior to meeting the kid, when I los-“ He hesitates. “When he left, I didn’t think I’d ever feel that fear again.” He sighs. “When I met you I learned how to be afraid all over again.” 

You sort of understand that feeling.

You felt it when you thought Kodo knew. And you felt it when you imagined Kodo’s reaction to your hypothetical children with Din. 

You felt it just moments ago. When you asked yourself if you loved him. 

“It’s like all the air leaves the room, replaced with terror. That terror eats away at everything until there’s nothing left.”

All you can think of is the night you found him in the hallway, and you’re certain you’ve never felt that level of fear.

“It’s not all fear though. I assume it’s different for everyone but the fear is only a part of it. For me it mostly feels like devotion and temptation. I know what it is to be devoted, for decades I followed my creed without question, and when I finally did abandon it, it was a matter of life and death, fueled by that fear.”

He sounds half asleep as he says it, like he’s telling himself a bedtime story, and you don’t dare interrupt. 

“That’s how I feel about you, except in your case, nothing could make me question my devotion to you, not even a matter of life and death. And as far as temptation goes…” He laughs quietly to himself. “I was unfamiliar with that feeling before you.”

“Temptation?” You whisper to him.

“When will you understand what you are to me, sarad’ika?” He sits up a little, you can’t see him but you feel his nose bump against your jaw as he rests his face in the crook of your neck.

“I know how you feel about me, you tell me quite often.” You’re only half-joking.

“Not how I feel about you, what you are to me. You are so much more than the one I never meant to love, I swear you were created just to tempt me.” You let your hand rest on the nape of his neck as he absentmindedly brushes his lips up against your throat. “If you asked me to remove my helmet, I would.” He murmurs against your throat. 

That’s a rather serious claim.

“You could have asked me from the moment I met you. It took time for me to realize I loved you but I have always, been sworn to you.” His fingers trail up and down your torso. “From the moment I first saw you, when you tried to remove my helmet, I promised myself that if you ever tried again, that I wouldn’t stop you.

Maker. 

How the fuck do you respond to that?

“We can talk more in the morning. Get some sleep.” He kisses your temple and lays back down against your chest.

He can be annoyingly eloquent when he wants too. You can’t help but wish you were as capable of putting your feelings into words the way he does. Seriously, how are you supposed to top, “When I met you I learned how to be afraid all over again.” 

Maybe tomorrow you could try and show him how much he means to you. Since you can’t seem to find the right thing to say, and even if you could he’s already asleep again, snoring at an ungodly volume like he didn’t just profess his profound love to you.

But talking to him helped, from how he describes it, you might just love him too.

★

This morning is much more coordinated than your last. 

Din wakes you up before the girls arrive. You have plenty of time to pick out one of the simpler pink gowns in your collection, along with a matching pair of slippers. You leave him there with plenty of time to spare. 

The girls don’t question it this time either. Neither of them tries to go into the closet and they waste no time dressing you. Lysa finds you a nice pink nightie from the dresser but you honestly aren’t all that thrilled about it this time around.

It’s getting harder and harder to care about this. 

Being dressed up like a doll every day.

Din certainly doesn’t care about what you look like so why even bother at this point? You’re antsy to get back to him and you’re about to hastily thank and dismiss the girls as they finish but Elaine speaks first. 

“Princess, would you join me for tea this morning?” 

You have no logical reason to refuse and you do enjoy time spent with Elaine.

You just want to be with Din.

But you can’t tell her that. 

“Certainly, shall I meet you in the gardens again?” 

“I will see you there, my lady.” Both girls give you small bows before leaving. Only a few seconds after they’re gone the closet door opens and there stands your Mandalorian. He makes his way to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close.

“Shall I escort you to the gardens, my lady?” He leans down a bit so your eyes are level with the line of his visor.

“Lead the way.”

It’s a short walk and you’re once again surprised by how quickly Elaine has set things up, a table and chairs wait for you in the gazebo.

“Do you think you could find something to do for a few minutes on your own?” You say quietly enough that you know only he can hear it as you approach. 

He doesn’t respond but as you step into the gazebo he doesn’t follow you in, once you’re seated he walks off into the garden. 

“Seems like things are better between the two of you?” She pours you a cup, making it the way you like it before handing you the saucer. 

“Much better.” You smile as you take a sip. 

“May I speak freely ma’am?” She sets her cup down and crosses her arms, staring at you. Her tone has gotten so serious so suddenly you’re a bit stunned. 

“Of course.” 

“Lysa and I stopped coming to help you undress in the evenings many moons ago, we stopped waiting for you to summon us.” 

What a strange thing to say. 

“Okay?” Is all you can manage, still unsure as to what she could possibly mean by that statement. 

“Well, my lady, we just assumed you didn’t need the help anymore…” She stares at you expectantly but you’re still giving her a confused look. “You know…” Her eyebrows are raised but you just shake your head slowly, giving her a blank stare. “With getting undressed.”

Oh.

Oh.

Not much you can really say about that, she’s right, and you hadn’t even noticed because someone else was undressing you. Still, she can’t expect you to outright admit that. 

“I don’t need you to say a word, my lady, I just needed to talk to you, to warn you.” Something about her tone makes you shiver, even out here in the sun. 

“About?” 

“You’ve been reckless, princess.” You set your cup down. 

“Spit it out Elaine, you’re making me nervous.” You laugh anxiously but her expression remains stern.

“Kodo won’t take your absence from dinner lightly. And you’ve been too blatant about your friendship with the Mandalorian. You should act with more caution.” 

Well, you had wanted her to be blunt, you can’t be too shocked about that. 

“He is not a man who takes kindly to disrespect. He will retaliate if you aren’t careful, that’s all.” You nod as she takes a sip of her tea.

That’s all she says on the subject, quickly moving on to another topic.

Her warning was genuine and you’re thankful for it but you push it from your mind. You will right this wrong and attend dinner with Kodo this week.

★

Tea is short after that.

You aren’t in the mood for small talk anymore, you just want to spend the rest of the day with Din.

You whisper a genuine thanks to her before she departs, and you rush over to where he stands in the flowers.

“Cabin?” He asks. Thankfully he doesn’t risk holding your hand in broad daylight but he lets his knuckles brush against yours. 

“Cabin.” You follow him towards the pond and once you’re close enough he scoops you up into his arms to keep you out of the water. “Din! What if someone sees?” You whisper yell at him, eyes scanning the vacant gardens. 

“This isn’t any less damning than you walking in on your own. Besides, no one’s around, promise.” He pushes open the door before setting you down, locking up behind the two of you. “I’ve lived here for long enough to know that nobody comes out this far except us. Now, what do you want for the rest of the day?” He kicks off his boots and you set your slippers next to them.

It’s past noon at this point, you have nothing planned. 

“Do you want to just stay here? I think today I just want to stay here.” You walk over to the bed, lifting your skirt and taking a seat. 

“Works for me, I’m going to get some chores done if you don’t mind.” He removes his gloves, tossing them on the table before kneeling beside the dresser. 

“I don’t mind at all.” You scoot back a bit to rest against the wall, you’re actually quite curious to see what he’ll do, and you need time to think of how you’re going to show him how much he means to you. 

You watch as he takes out different weapons and tech that you don’t recognize. He tosses his gloves to the side and starts methodically cleaning every item. 

You’re sort of hypnotized by his attention to detail, it lets you think.

What does he like? 

Green, you, the kid, classic ships. 

None of those things can really show him how much he means to you though. 

He’s setting different things aside as he finishes any maintenance required, every so often he looks up at you before returning to his work. You feel a little useless just sitting here so you get up to take the cakes out of the conservator. 

Suddenly you have his attention. 

You don’t dare say a word, letting him just observe in peace. He drops whatever he’s working on, you don’t look but you can feel his visor trained on you. 

You take the tins out, setting them on the table before finding a dull knife. Each cake is small enough that you can fit your hands around each tin if you hold your fingers in the shape of a circle. You carve each cake out of its tin and he watches you intently the entire time, you can see him in your peripherals. 

So he likes… watching you do a shitty job at taking cakes out of tins?

It’s crass but you go through the list of things that have worked him up before. Things you’ve said to get him to give you what you want during sex. 

Two instances come to mind. 

The time you unknowingly said I love you.

And then last night, when you told him he could finish inside you.

And now? Your head tilts up just in time to watch him adjust himself in his trousers before sheepishly tuning back to his work when you catch him watching you. It takes a second but eventually things start to click.

He likes watching you look at home in his cabin. He likes the intimate feeling of a simple life. Watching you bake, saying I love you, having kids. 

Things a normal couple might do. 

He tosses something up onto the bed, you stare at it for a moment as he starts putting other things back into the dresser.

Handcuffs. 

Thick, padded, and metal. 

You know he intends on using them on you but you act fast, hurrying over to him, taking his hand. 

“What are you doing mesh’la?” He chuckles as you sit him down on the bed.

This is gonna be a shot in the dark, but if you’re confident enough, (and right) it’ll be worth it.

“Just, let me take care of you.” 

“You already take care of me.” He insists, starting to get up but you firmly plant your hands on his shoulders, pushing him back down. Your plan is rapidly forming in your mind.

“I mean it, now stay put.” He sighs loudly but nods, tilting his head to the side in confusion. No sense in being coy, might as well be clear with your intentions to see if he’s actually into it. “Don’t be a baby, I know you get off on this kind of thing.” The moment you say it he scoffs but you’re already across the room, taking one of the little cakes and putting it onto a plate. 

“Excuse me?” “His voice is already terribly defensive but you just laugh it off. 

“You’re not the only one who can make observations. You think I didn’t notice the way your tone switched when I offered to bake for you?” He starts to argue but you cut him off. “And I’m definitely not going to ignore how quickly you came when I told you you could finish inside of me.” That surprisingly shuts him up. This might actually be the only time you’ve caught him so off guard that he doesn’t have a response. 

You bring the plate over to the bed, setting it on his nightstand.

“You like domesticity.” You lean in to whisper to him. “You want me to take care of you, don’t you Mr. Tough Mandalorian?” You can’t gauge his reaction because of the helmet but you can gauge the tent in his pants perfectly fine. 

“Djarin.” He certainly doesn’t sound stern now. 

“Djarin?”

“Din Djarin.” You hadn’t even realized until just now that you didn’t know his last name. 

You straddle one of his thighs, spreading his legs with your knees.

“Well then, let me take care of you, Din Djarin.” You like the way his name feels in your mouth and based on the way his cock twitches against your leg you’d reckon he does too. 

He’s always been so open with you and you’ve always kept him at a distance. 

Right here right now, if you weren’t dealing with the worst possible circumstances (your husband), you know that you’d tell him you love him, that you ache for him, that you know fear because of him. You know you love him. And you’re pretty sure he knows it too.

You just aren’t ready to say it. 

So you’ll have to show it. (And maybe say a few things that you are ready to say.) 

You love each other, at the end of the day you can’t keep censoring yourself when you think about him, he doesn’t deserve that. 

You want to show him what he deserves. 

You reach behind him and grab the cuffs. As you do his hands wrap around you to tug at your corset strings, an act that he’s getting rather good at. 

“You gonna put those on for me, mesh’la?” He drawls. Once he’s loosened your corset enough so that you’ll be able slip out of it you lean back again.

“No.” You grin at him and he immediately shakes his head. 

“Absolutely not.” He says the moment you start smiling.

“You’re always in charge, just let me be in charge, I’m doing this for you.” You grab one of his wrists but he easily pulls it away. 

“You were in charge last time.”

True, but irrelevant.

“Do you love me?” You stick your bottom lip out a little. 

“You’re terrible.” 

“I know.” But it works, because when you grab his wrist again he doesn’t pull away. 

“You know I can get out of these right? Very easily.” He says, watching you close the first cuff around his wrist, removing the belt around his torso and the one around his waist. 

“I know that too, but you love me, so you’re going to leave them on until I take them off.

“This feels less like you’re taking care of me and more like I’m your prisoner.” He mumbles. 

“Oh hush, you’d be happy either way.” Once again he seems at a loss for words as you cuff his other wrist, he sets his hands in his lap. You smooth out the fabric of his cowl before carefully removing it, folding it and walking it over to the table and setting it down. “I’ll make you a deal.” You say, turning back to face him. “If you don’t like it then I will stop and we can do this your way. But if you don’t then I will assume I was right, and you do want me to take care of you.” You straddle his thigh again and play with one of the releases on his chest plate.

“You’re being purposefully vague. What does taking care of me entail?” The impatience on his voice trails off as you start releasing his chestplate, finding the little locks, undoing them one by one. 

“Well… I just think that you like certain things, and I think you’re too embarrassed to admit it.”

“What things?” 

You click the last release and remove his chest plate, walking over to the dresser to set it down carefully before returning.

“You like that I baked for you.” You remove his gauntlets, setting them on his nightstand.

“Who wouldn’t like that?” You swear you almost hear him stutter. 

“Oh but I think you really like it. Because you know I did it just for you.” You remove his pauldrons and kneel between his legs to remove the pieces of armor on his thighs. “You like when I hold you, you like seeing me here, in your home, in your bed.” You slide his remaining armor down his legs, setting them aside before standing again and spreading his thighs with your knees to slot yourself between them, your hands grip the edges of his helmet. 

“Can I?” You whisper. 

After a moment's hesitation he nods. 

Your fingers snap the airlocks and you gently lift. 

Before closing your eyes you allow yourself one peek. 

You’re graced with a bashful smile, and you know that it’s okay, so you squeeze your eyes shut and completely remove the helmet, setting it on the bed beside him. Almost as if on instinct he leans forward and you feel his lips on yours as you gently push him back. 

“Let me do it, Din.” You laugh softly. “You don’t have to do everything.” You lean forward this time, hands on either side of his face, running your tongue over that bottom lip you wish you could see. “I’m going to take my dress off.” You mumble into his mouth before pulling back, you turn around and quickly slide your gown down your body, you grab the plate on his bedside table before closing your eyes and turning back around. His restrained hands play with the front of your nightie. 

“What are you-” His unfiltered voice is like warm honey, deep and raw, but you silence it by putting two fingers from your freehand to where you assume his mouth is. He starts to speak again so you gingerly slide your thumb between his lips and you hear any more questions he might have flicker out. 

“Can you go more than five minutes without asking me a question?” The moment you say it his lips purse like he’s going to ask again, you place your thumb over his tongue. Once you’re certain he isn’t going to interrupt your actions again you remove your hand from his face and tear a chunk of the cake off of the plate. “Open.” You laugh softly as you bring your hand towards his mouth, he immediately starts to protest again but you take the opportunity to stuff the pastry into his mouth, you get lucky and actually manage to get it in on the first try. 

If you’re being honest, you aren’t completely sure if this is going to work. You’re still acting on a hunch. A very presumptuous hunch, that deep down he wants nothing more than a quiet, soft life. 

A home. 

Unless of course you’re wrong. In that case you’re going to be rather embarrassed. Which is starting to be a worry as you realize he isn’t moving, two of your fingers just barely past his lips, he still hasn’t moved and you fell you nerves starting to get the best of you, just as you’re about to withdrawal and apologize for the entire silly affair, his lips close around your fingers. You can’t help but gasp at the feeling, accidentally taking a step back in surprise.    

His fingers immediately grasp at what fabric they can on your undergarments, trying to pull you closer again. You’re about to say something smug, along the lines of “I told you so.” But you’re stopped dead in your tracks.

Because Maker, he whimpers. 

You let him tug you back between his legs. The cold metal of the cuffs brushes against your thighs. 

You reach down and tear off another chunk of the cake, his bound hands guide you back to his mouth, which you're shocked to find is still open as you gently feed him. This time you don't flinch back, his lips close around your fingers and his tongue licks them clean.

This is the temptation he spoke of. 

You respect his creed. You’ve sort of taken your own creed, a vow to yourself not to look. But right now it takes all of your restraint to not look. Nothing could possibly make you happier than knowing what he must look like right now, lips wrapped around your fingers, trying to pull you closer. 

But just like him, you resist those temptations, finally pulling your hand away. 

“I told you I’d take care of you.” You whisper, a slight teasing edge to your voice.

“You’re a strange woman, sarad’ika.” He whispers back.

“So you don’t like this?” You tear off a piece for yourself, popping it into your mouth, feeling the icing coat your tongue. You bask in his silence before picking up the remaining pastry, gently feeding him, tossing the plate blindly onto the bed.

The only answer you need to your question is the way his tongue drags across your palm when he’s finished, you waste no time after that to push him down into the mattress. Letting your lips find his.

His mouth tastes just like it did the first time you kissed.

Vanilla. 

His arms go over your head, trapping you in his embrace. 

“Tell me I was right.” You pull back from him, grinning.

“I wouldn’t exactly go so far as to say that you were right.” His mouth latches to your chin, peppering a trail of kisses back up to your lips but you pull further back, as far as his arms will let you, eyes still shut.

“You’re a terrible liar, you know that right? Because about thirty seconds ago you were quite literally eating out of the palm of my hand.” He continues trying to kiss you to silence you but you keep turning your head to the side, he settles on your jaw eventually. 

“That doesn’t prove anything, I’ve barely eaten anything today, maybe I was just hungry.” He mumbles against your skin. 

“Mhmm, sure. Are you sure you don’t like playing house? I think you like imagining me as Mrs. Djarin.”

Whoops. Where the hell did that come from? 

“Don’t say that.” His voice isn’t playful anymore as he sits up, keeping you in his lap. 

“Kriff, I’m sorry Din, that was too fa-” You hear a metal thud behind you on the floor and his hands are no longer cuffed, they hold your waist now. 

“If you don’t mean it, don't joke about that.” His breath is hot on your face and his grip on you tightens. 

If you don’t mean it. 

So you were right. 

Your mind screams at you to be rational. You have a husband, there are a million reasons to apologize and to move on from this. 

Stop using the husband that was forced upon you as an excuse.

You can’t keep holding back when it comes to Din. It isn’t fair to him. Not when he gives you everything. 

“If I do mean it, can I joke about it?” Your voice is the quietest it’s been all day. 

He takes your hands and brings them up to his face, so you can feel him nod. 

“I’ll keep joking about it if you tell me I’m right. I’ll joke all night long.” You laugh a little as he brings one of your hands to his mouth so he can kiss your wrist. 

“You’re right.”

You can’t help yourself.

“About?” 

“I like this.” He drags his lips down your arm before dropping it. “I like when you take care of me.” 

“Turn the lights off.” He doesn’t hesitate once you say it, the curtains are all already closed 

Once the lights are off he flips you onto your back, you hear everything on the bed clatter to the floor as he tosses it aside.

His bed is lower than yours so his hands grab you by your hips, lifting your bottom half into the air a little, making you squeak in surprise. 

“Tell me another joke.” He says under his breath as he spreads your legs so he can grind his still clothed erection against you. 

“I thought you were going to let me take care of you?” You scoff at him, hearing his zipper.

“I am,” You gasp as he drops you back down onto the mattress, climbing on top of you. “I’m letting you tell me jokes.” You can practically hear his grin as he guides the blunt head of his cock into your folds. Lazily rubbing it against your clit and leaning down to whisper to you. “You started this with all your talk, is that all it was? Talk? I thought you said you meant it?”  

You’re trying to remember how he got the upperhand so quickly but it’s hard to concentrate when he keeps nudging himself against your most sensitive spot.

Everything always happens so fast with him, just once you’d like to turn things around on him and have it work.

“I-I meant it.” Is all you really manage to get out, he brings his cock down a bit to tease your entrance, never actually pushing in. His voice has that condescending tone to it that tells you he’s willing to play this game for a while and you hadn’t really factored in just how aroused you’d get during your display a few minutes ago. You’re soaked and there’s a good chance he’s going to draw this out in retaliation. He swipes his tip back up to your clit, the both of you hiss in unison. 

You still have one ace up your sleeve as you recall your conversation from last night. 

“So you liked one of my offers?” 

“I might have been interested in one of them”

One thing you know he wants. 

“Come on, sarad’ika. Where are your jokes?” He chuckles against your skin as he kisses your shoulder. 

“I was just trying to think of a baking joke. Can you give me a second?” You gasp out as his free hand reaches underneath you to squeeze your ass before coming up to rest on your hip. 

“I know you can do better than a baking joke.” You can feel him grin against you now, his teeth lightly graze your shoulder.

“It’s a shame, you would have liked it.” He goes back to teasing your entrance, pressing himself into you just enough to make you squirm but not enough to actually be inside you. You try to shift your hips downwards but his hand keeps you pinned in place. 

“I liked your jokes about Mrs. Djarin.” 

It’s now or never.

“Well you liked my cooking as well, so I thought I’d make a joke about a bun in the oven, you’d like that wouldn’t you? Filling me u-”

His hips buck forward and his grip on you tightens to the point of a sharp pain. To seemingly both of your surprises, in an instant he’s buried nearly to the hilt in your heat. 

“Maker, Din!” You’re gonna have a brand new set of bruises tomorrow. 

“Sorry! I, fuck- sorry.” He’s grunting in your ear, not bothering with your shoulder anymore, burying his face into the pillow next to your head. 

“Dank farrik, Din…” You’re reeling from the sudden motion, your head tilted back into the mattress. You need to catch your breath but the muffled groans coming from him distract you. The sting from the sudden stretch you're experiencing is quickly fading and you bring your hands up to his head, one resting in his hair and the other at the nape of his neck. 

He wanted to make this a game so you’re going to play, and you’re going to win.

You’re still panting a little as you turn your head to the side so you can whisper into his ear. 

“Stars Din, it’s that easy to get you worked up, huh?” His breathing is starting to level out, his grip on you lightens up. “I thought I was easy to rile up but look at you, all this just at the thought of a bun in the oven.” 

He isn’t making noise anymore, he’s still against you, listening intently as you run a soothing hand down his spine and back up again. 

“I can’t imagine what you’re going to be like when you actually get me pregnant.” 

You’re surprised by your own words, like your brain is on auto-pilot and you can’t filter yourself but he fucking whines so you don’t care in the slightest. High pitched and needy, muffled by the pillow. His hips start slowly rocking into you and you bite back your moan, wanting to maintain your advantage. 

You tangle your fingers into his hair, pulling his head out of the pillow, savoring the whimper that comes from his as you do.

“Oh come on, you can’t even  handle the thought of it?” You breathe out the words and his head falls downwards as you release him, he bites your shoulder. “What does it for you?” He unclenches his jaw, starting to bury his face back into the pillow but you pull him back up again.

“Is it just the idea of finishing in me?” 

He doesn’t answer, to be fair you’re barely holding it together either at this point.

“Or do you just want everyone to know I’m yours? Want everyone to see that you knocked me up?”  

You get your answer with that because he’s trying to bury his face back into the pillow. A low wail leaves his lips as he frantically ruts into you. How quickly everything’s escalated has you hurtling towards your climax and you can tell by the desperate whine that leaves his lips as he presses them into your collar bone that he won’t be far behind. 

“I know you can do better than that, Din.” You mock his tone from earlier but he’s unfazed, pounding into you until finally you can’t tease him anymore because he’s reduced you to gasps and moans.

It doesn’t take long after that. 

One after the other.

You first, when his hand travels downwards, it takes only a few precise circles rubbed into your clit and your grip tightens in his hair, your walls flutter around him.

Just like that he’s going over the edge with you.

He pulls out, finishing on your stomach. 

You shouldn’t feel upset but there's the tiniest bit of disappointment as you feel his cum against your skin. 

He collapses onto the bed next to you, pulling you into his arms.

“I love you.” He presses a kiss into your hair. 

“I know.” 

★

You sit in the quiet dark for a long while, until finally, you have to ask.

“Do you actually want kids someday?” Your voice breaks the silence of the pitch-black room. “Little Djarin’s running around?” 

He rolls over so he’s hovering above you now.

“Are you trying to start round two?” He chuckles, resting his forehead against yours, your nose bumps against his. “I’ll need a few more minutes before I can go again, sarad, but I can keep you occupied until then.” He kisses you quickly, already starting to move his mouth south but you stop him. 

It’s so effortless right now. To be happy with him, in the darkness, pushing away thoughts of royal responsibilities. Letting yourself be with just Din, even if it’s brief. 

“I’ll take that as a yes?” You ask.

“Yes. Someday.” He kisses your sternum, laying down on your chest.

“With me?” 

“No, with Elaine.” You smack the back of his head when he says it, he laughs against your skin. “Yes, with you.” 

You let him lay on top of you as you nod to yourself. 

“Is it weird that everytime we have sex it turns into a competition?” He starts to laugh once more as you say it.

“It’s weird that you keep losing.” 

You smack him again.

★

Your peaceful break from reality is brief, as always, as you sit up. 

“We have to go. I can’t be out all night.” The last thing you want to do is return to your room right now, you want to stay here, the cabin feels more like home than any room in the castle ever has. 

He seems as unhappy with this as you are. The two of you dress in silence once he flicks the lamp back on, you turn around until you hear him reattach his helmet. 

You hold his hand on the walk back. You don’t have much to say right now, you’re certain at this point that you’ve made it clear that you love him.

That you just aren’t ready to say it. 

And he doesn’t seem to mind. 

You’re ready to just sleep. Your blanket nest seems more and more inviting the closer you get to the castle. 

The two of you sneak in through the back entrance and as always the castle is quiet at night. You keep your hand in his as you make your way up the steps. 

It isn’t until you get to the hallway where your chambers are located that you hear it. 

A persistent banging sound and someone yelling incomprehensibly. 

Din immediately drops your hand. 

Neither of you speaks as you walk but he shifts himself so he’s walking ahead of you, as you get closer you recognize the distinct, nasally voice. 

In the dim light of the hall you see Kodo, banging on your bedroom door.

“Wife, come now, you can’t ignore me, I’m your husband.” He hisses, you can smell the alcohol on him from here.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Kodo, are you okay?” You plaster on a faux look of concern as you approach, Din tries to put his hand up to stop you but you ignore it. 

He turns to stare at you, his clothes are askew and he isn’t even wearing his crown. 

“Wife! Where have you been?” He slurs, leaning in for a kiss that you sidestep, he doesn’t seem bothered by your rejection. 

“I went on a walk.” You answer quickly and he takes hold of your waist, you try not to look too repulsed.

“You skipped dinner yesterday, dear wife.” He teeters a bit, leaning towards you as you again try to avoid his kiss but this time he holds you firmly in place, it’s sloppy and you have to wipe a bit of spit from your face after.  

“I did, I wasn’t feeling well.” Your voice is getting smaller and smaller as you feel fear bubbling in your chest.

“Where are your guards?” There’s no respect in Din’s voice, no “your highness” or “your grace.” No one speaks to Kodo that way, not even you, but he’s too drunk to even notice. 

“I dismissed them, as is customary when one is visiting his bride’s chambers.” Kodo lurches forward, his hands sloppily grope the fabric of your skirt and you make an audible groan of discomfort. 

“We should get you back to your own chambers, come now dear husband.” You try to sound patient, you know he’s capable of violence and you don’t want to push him in this state.

“Why would we do that, wife? Come now, tonight I shall join you in bed. I missed you last night.” He hisses the words and you know he didn’t miss you in the slightest, this is a punishment.

This is what you get for disobeying. 

For skipping your dinner with him.

This is the inevitable thing that has made you unable to tell Din you love him. This looming promise of Kodo.

There’s nothing you could possibly do right now to escape the fate before you. The fear you feel right now is certainly not the fear of love that Din described to you. 

But that quickly changes.

You don’t get a chance to react as Din takes a step between you and Kodo, he doesn’t even wind up, he just drives his fist forward and you hear the sickening crunch of your husband's nose just before he slumps to the floor. 

As you stare at Din, you know your fear has changed. His shoulders heaving, his rage fills the corridor as you listen to his ragged breaths through the modulator. He turns around to face you, but you just stare at his hand, where the evidence of this potentially deadly mistake is dripping down his fingertips. You have never been more terrified for another person's life the way you are right now for Din. 

You’re mesmerized by the little speckles of your husband's blood, a stark contrast to the yellow fingertips of his gloves.

And suddenly it feels like all the air leaves the corridor as you finally look into his visor, you don’t see Din though, all you see is what they’re going to do to him for this.

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[physalian]

Juggling Multiple POVS (Writing Like A Movie)

At one point in a WIP, I had one character being held captive, two characters on a quest to bust them out, two characters racing to join the jailbreakers, four with no idea any of this is going on because they think they’re all dead, and then of those four, two split off on a side quest, and the remaining two also split off on various other tasks.

If you’re keeping track, that meant I had a book rotating between 6 different subplots and about 9 POVS at the absolute worst, and then about 4 subplots once characters finally reunited with each other.

It was… a lot.

Now this was never published so I don’t know how well it would have been received but it was a sequel and its predecessors received good feedback so I think I know what I’m doing.

—

When you’re committing to a book with Multiple POV, you’ve generally got two roads you can go down: predetermined narrators or ~cinematic~.

You can select a set number of characters to narrate regardless of how many exist in your ensemble cast, and no matter how many split off on their own subplots, those predetermined narrators will be keeping up with the story. These types of books tend to have shorter chapters and single narrators for chunks of chapters at a time with no cutting in between and fairly long breaks in between a character’s chunks of POV. Or, they have entire sections of book dedicated to them with clear markers between POVS.

The easy example here is Heroes of Olympus that I believe had up to 4 narrators per book despite a main cast of about 8 characters depending on the book. The first two were 3-POV, for each of the 3 questers, and then once the whole party was together the POVS were determined by who split off into which groups. Rather infamously, in my opinion, the last book of the series did not give a POV to the two legacy characters and the former protagonist of the first series, which was… a choice. I think the point was that Riordan gave them their spotlight in book 4 and was passing the torch to the new batch for book 5, but for many of us, who had no idea we’d never get a POV of these two again, it was mighty disappointing.

These books also had no chapter titles and instead had banner-style chapters where you had NICO or PIPER in massive banners over the start of each chapter, which was also a choice as going without chapter titles (or even numbers, they’re in roman numerals) makes it a lot harder to search things up in books 500+ pages long.

Who narrates when is less determined by who the most important character of the chapter is, for the most part. It might be Hazel’s moment, but she’s not a narrator of this book, so it’s in Piper POV (or Nico’s forced coming out moment in Jason POV which I will never forgive Riordan for). It’s just a dice roll of whoever it lands on which can lead to some moments, like the Nico incident, that really should have been in Nico POV, but the structure of the story demanded otherwise.

I don’t really love this style of multiple POV. Personally, I think it’s rather inflexible and doesn’t take full advantage of what MPOV can do. But that’s personal opinion so here’s some strengths:

It doesn’t jump around as much and with a minimal set of narrators, it’s more streamlined. You know what to expect going in with no surprises

It forces the author to get creative within the bounds of the POV they’re stuck in

The extra time with a single narrator can be a solid guide rail through a complicated plot piece

—

Or, you can write a more ~cinematic~ MPOV. I don’t know the proper term for this, if it exists, but this style of MPOV is when you basically free-for-all. Anyone can narrate whenever the scene demands and this either grants you a book with short chapters, but one narrator per short chapter, or multiple narrators within a single chapter, as you’d film a movie or an episode of TV with multiple perspectives per set piece.

This isn’t a random grab-bag of narrators. It demands a lot of restraint. This kind of MPOV is entirely based on who is the most important character of the scene, or who’s POV would be the most interesting to view the scene through.

ENNS is written in cinematic MPOV, with a far smaller rotating cast than the WIP I mentioned at the top of this post. It starts out slow with the protagonist for the first two chapters as the only narrator, then mid-chapter 3, I give a cue that he’s going to be unable to narrate the next bit, and I switch to my deuteragonist. I don’t give banner headings. I don’t give my characters entire chapters because the POV structure demands it. I just start whichever POV with the narrator’s name within the first 1-3 sentences. If that means one character has an entire chapter to themselves, then at this point in the story, their arc is the most important thing to be focusing on.

In the WIP at the top of the post, it was book 3 of a series which gave me some freedom. Namely that most of those 9 POVs were established characters you’d already be familiar with. I wasn’t throwing my audience into the deep end with 9 strangers and demanding they try to keep up with 6 subplots of equally confusing and unknown characters.

Cinematic MPOV should rely less on “who hasn’t narrated in a while let’s give it to them” and more “who would be the most interesting narrator for this moment”. You could have a villain POV, a one-off that might never narrate again, or a tertiary character who isn’t doing the most action in the scene, but has the richest commentary on what’s going on.

It does demand restraint. If anyone can pick up the narrator hat, then you could find yourself splitting off into unnecessary subplots. Not every piece of the story must be told and letting readers imagine what’s going on behind closed doors is sometimes better than detailing it all out. I could give a captive or missing character some POVS, or I could let the audience anxiously stew with the rest of the cast wondering if they’re even still alive.

In some books I’ve read, the deliberate choice to not let readers see into the mind of a character as they make important decisions, left on the outs with their friend or lover or relative, is maddeningly entertaining. They won’t explain themselves to the people who care about them, and they won’t explain themselves to the audience, either.

Or, you can let a side character have the spotlight for a scene or two as we see our favorites through their eyes, possibly in a way they’ve never been depicted before. A’s lover B might describe them as strong and brash. A’s old rival C might describe those same actions completely differently.

—

In terms of who narrates when, like the 9-POV monster I had going, I had key moments of every POV that had to hit the book's physical layout at specific times. Like episodes of TV, I needed certain scenes and moments and reveals to fit within specific chapters, not dangling off on either end.

I had to remember the time scale that all of this was happening on so every scene that was meant to happen simultaneously actually read like it was all going on at once. I had some chapters with the “A” group of narrators, then skipped them for a chapter for the “B” group of narrators for their scenes. Keeping the pacing as frenetic as it needed to be wasn’t easy, but if you can pull it off, I think it can be quite entertaining.

Some things to keep in mind with MPOV:

Don’t retread the same scenes or conversations. I read a fanfic a very long time ago that had I think 10 different takes on one character’s death with the dialogue copy-pasted over and over again and it was exhausting. If you want to have a character reflect on a previous scene, pull the specific lines as they remember them.

Unless messing up the timeline is the point of the story or you make it very clear that a scene happens before the present, don’t let POVs muck up the continuity. If plot happens on a Wednesday and the next scene is more important plot that happens that previous Tuesday, you might confuse your readers on when everything is meant to be happening.

Sometimes not knowing is better. Prequels tend to fail because whatever fans imagined happening is way better than what the writers explicitly show happening. Practice restraint.

Unless your story is paced very slowly, try not to have POVS butt up right against each other every time. In an action set piece, everything happens in sequence with zero black space between them. But a whole book with zero room to breathe can get tiring to read. Books with a single narrator have scene breaks and mini time skips, not every single part of your characters’ day has to be detailed.

If you don’t have banners, make it clear as quickly as possible who the new narrator is. Eventually, if your narration is distinct enough for each character, you can go a paragraph or two and your audience will know who it is anyway just based on how they think.

If these are all unknown characters, try to hop around minimally at first until you establish a clear protagonist, otherwise your readers might get lost on who the focus of the story is meant to be and lose which character is doing or thinking what.

*ETA: I forgot: typically with multiple narrators for a single “group”, like two characters stuck on a side quest together, I try to flip-flop their POVS. For example, if I have D and E with a whole chapter to themselves, the POV structure would go D E D E. To my eyes, it looks better, as they have equal share of the action. I try very hard to not let any one narrator have back-to-back POVS unless the narrative demands otherwise. But that’s just me.

—

This is personal opinion on what I think works. If you’re struggling on maintaining pacing or clarity with your ensemble cast, consider the above points. Hope this helps!

[uglypastels]

Not Wholly Evil |X| pirate!Eddie au

a/n here it is. the final chapter. I am so excited to share it with you all, just as much as it pains me that it actually is coming to an end. I've worked on this story for almost a year, and it had been a risk I had no idea how it would play out, but seeing how much everyone has enjoyed this story and supported me in my little experiment really made all the days I say in front of my computer screaming worth it <3 thank you all so so much for trusting the process

Series Masterlist

word count: 14.3k

"semi dark fic" - READ the warnings:. (gun/sword)violence. blood. mention of severe wounds. minor character death. allusions to suicide. kidnapping. imprisonment. alcohol. open and deep sea. near-death experiences. hanging. men are pigs: implied mentions of past abusive experiences [of background characters]. malnourishment and weight loss. paranoia. mention of poisoning. abuse. manhandling. lying. prison. capital punishment.

there will be several mentions of other ST characters in this chapter, and some instances might not be the most favourable of portrayals, but this is not to indicate my opinion on them. I am simply intertwining universes. there is also a name spelled differently than in the shows and that's just for the sake of the setting.

Chapter 10: Lock and Key

“Some pirates achieved immortality by great deeds of cruelty or derring-do. Some achieved immortality by amassing great wealth. But the captain had long ago decided that he would, on the whole, prefer to achieve immortality by not dying.” ― Terry Pratchett, The Color of Magic

Everything went into chaos, happening so quickly that you genuinely got the sensation of being frozen in time and space, just letting everything around you go by, unable to intervene. Your mind could not work at that speed to understand everything that was happening, too far down into a shock to catch up. But when you finally did, you screamed. 

‘No, father, no.’ You tried to push yourself away from him, but his grip was too firm. Even if you had, the chances of getting past the barricade of armed bodies to Eddie was impossible. ‘You can’t do that!’ you trashed around in his arms like a wild fish out of water. 

All your father did was pull you closer, further away from Eddie, who you could just make out from between the uniforms and bayonets. The glimpses you got of his face showed a stoic expression. He wasn’t even trying to fight it. The last thing you saw before you were turned around and practically handed over to someone was the chains on his wrists. 

‘Take her away from here,’ your father told his closest guard, ‘she’s hysteric.’ And perhaps you were, as you kept screaming at them to let go of you. The pleas quieted down the further from the harbour you got, changing into silent sobs by the time you reached the gardens of your home.

‘It’s alright, miss,’ the guard tried to calm you as best as possible. ‘You’re safe now.’ 

The pearly white building towered over you as you entered its shadows, and as soon as you did, you saw almost the entirety of the house staff standing in the main hall, awaiting you. Their faces blurred with their welcoming greetings and sweet words of comfort. A woman took you from the guard, immediately guiding you up the stairs, mumbling something to him and shouting about to the rest of the people around. You could not place any name to her face, and having always been quite good with remembering people, you could only assume she had been a new addition to the staff since you had last been home. Looking over everyone around you, most of them must have been. 

That’s right. Your father had always been keen on replacing the staff but usually had been around to witness it, take in the new batch from the beginning, and, most importantly, say goodbye to the old ones.

You wanted to protest at every corner you turned up to your room, but the group of maids that had accumulated around you was like a forcefield, unbreakable. One of them opened the large double doors that led to your room. There was barely any time for you to sink in the feeling of being back in it after so many weeks as you were pushed through another pair of doors. There, a bath had already been prepared, the water steaming hot. You let yourself be dragged to the centre of the room and mechanically put your arms up for the ladies to take your dress off. Had they always been this rough? 

They mumbled about the state of your dress to one another as if you weren’t even there, and in their defence, you weren’t. Your mind was miles away, barely aware of what was going on. The only thing that pulled you back into the room was the gasp of the women as your dress fell to the floor. You looked down at where all their eyes had locked in on. 

‘Did they do this to you, miss?’ One of them asked, pointing in fear at the scar on your ribs. It had gotten much smaller over the weeks, but compared to the rest of you, you could imagine how grotesque it might look to people like them. 

‘Uhm, no,’ you mumbled, ‘I tripped. On our ship.’ You barely recognised your voice as you spoke, too tired to put any emotion into them. The women looked at each other hesitantly before continuing on with their tasks. 

 You just about felt the hot water burn as they got you into the bath or poured it over your head to wash your hair. The scrub of the cloths over your limbs did practically nothing. All you could do was stare out ahead of you at the hawk engraved into the wood panelling on the wall across from you and how you had always seen it as a sign of comfort but now noticed how angry its eye looked. Staring directly at you at all times. You lulled your head slowly, trying to get it to look away, but it just followed you around until someone grabbed you by the side to stop you from twisting. 

‘Sorry, miss. Just trying to get out this knot.’ One of them said as she combed out your hair, tugging your entire head back against the edge of the bath. 

You had not even realised how much grime came with being on a boat full of pirates for weeks. Even though you had tried to wash yourself regularly, there was never enough fresh water. By the time the ladies were done, the water had gone cold, and your whole body was red and sore from the scrubbing.  You could barely feel your fingertips, but your nails were perfect again. 

Trembling, you got out of the bath and quickly were wrapped up in linen to soak up the water. Like any other day, they began to put your undergarments on, preparing you for a dress that you could not even think about the weight of, but no matter how many layers they put on you, you were still shivering.

Someone, you had no idea who, pulled a blanket over your shoulders and put a large cup of lemon tea into your hands. It used to be your favourite, but the sips tasted bitter no matter how much sugar you poured. You stood in the middle of the room, holding the cup and felt all their eyes on you, drinking your tea with a shaky hand. No matter how you held it or steadied your arms, the porcelain clinked together louder and louder until it smashed onto the ground, the hot liquid pooling around you. Before you could apologise, someone was on their knees cleaning it up. 

‘I am so sorry,’ you cried out, tears already threatening to return despite it being only a few minutes since they had dried up. With water pouring over your face and hair in the bath, the tears would have been washed away, but now there was nowhere to hide them.

‘No worries, miss,’ one of the maids said. She looked you up and down, a corset in her hands, clearly seeing a mess of a woman in front of her. ‘We should get you ready; there is a meal waiting downstairs and I am sure you’re famished.’

‘I am alright, I just want to—’ you wanted to disappear. Get out of everyone’s sight. You wanted to lock yourself in your room or run away, just be anywhere but here, surrounded by these strangers. You wanted Eddie. Where was he now? He must have been dragged into the dungeons. 

You pushed back the next load of tears that were breaking through.

‘Miss, we must insist.’ The maid said, somewhat concerned, and hesitated. ‘The food will do you good.’ And yet, the idea of eating now made you feel quite ill to the stomach.

‘I would really just like to be alone now.’ If you had more energy, your statement might have come out more pointed, giving you more edge over the staff. You would have fought them until you’d slam the door behind the last one, but instead, you let yourself be trapped into a dress—a beautiful green garment that the women were not shy to praise as they put it on you—and sent you off to the dining room.

Once, you would have walked these halls alone,  with your head held high and letting the steps of your heels announce your presence in any room, but now the clicking against the marble floors made you wince and the presence of the maids and guards following you certainly did not help to put your mind at rest. 

The dining table was set, filled from one end to the other with dishes, but you could barely stomach a spoonful. The same happened at dinner. You could not think of eating these extensive meals knowing that Eddie was kept locked up somewhere, most likely not given anything to eat since he had been arrested. Your mind was whirring with ideas, but each and everyone was immediately halted when you saw that there was nowhere in the house you could go without onlookers. The chances of you being allowed into the dungeons and speaking to him were close to zero. 

Having eaten exactly two bites from your plate, you excused yourself back to your room, where people were ready to get you out of your dress and into your nightgown. Once done, one of the maids was prepared to blow all the candles out, but you quickly stopped her. 

‘Wait,’ you called, ‘could you leave one on, please.’ 

The woman nodded and left one of the candles in the holder burning before leaving the room. You sat down on the edge of the bed, trying to catch your breath, but the room felt so stuffy—a ridiculous thought considering the room was bigger than Eddie’s quarters, possibly the double of it. The candle only gave light to its nearest surroundings, letting the rest of the space, and you with it, be eaten up by the night. It was overwhelming, together with the hot air swallowing you whole. As your chest tightened, you ran to the window, pushing it open. You greeted the cool night air with a sigh. 

Nights at home were never quiet, but unlike in Saint Claire, it was not drunken brawls that kept the shores alive but the rustle of waves and the chirping cicadas. The streets buzzed with the sounds of nature, illuminated in silver by the moon, now an almost complete sphere. 

You had always loved the view of your room, but now it felt more like a cruel joke as you could look out at the harbour and the gates of Star Port. It was like a million pinpricks stabbing into you. The Hellfire was nowhere to be seen. You didn’t expect anything less. With Eddie arrested, it would have been mad of the crew to stay behind, risking their own capture. 

Still, the feeling you got at the sight of the empty harbour sank deep into your stomach, not helping with how you had felt before opening the blinds, and when you closed them again, the room seemed to have grown in size. Large, cold, empty, with you standing in the middle staring at your bed. Sitting on it, let alone sleeping, was impossible. The second you touched the mattress, you were scared you’d sink straight through the cotton, and the sheer size of it…

You lay there for hours, deciding whether to curl up and make yourself as small as possible or to spread your arms out in a poor attempt at taking up some of the space meant only for you. Every time you moved, your hand would grab for the sheets, hoping that one of those times, you would feel more than air. If you opened your eyes, you would see him sleeping peacefully by your side. 

Most of your pillows had met the ground as you threw them in frustration.  You had spent years in this bed, perfectly fine, and only several days with Eddie. So, why were you feeling this profound loss over his absence besides you? It wasn’t fair. 

Eventually, you managed to fall to sleep, quite literally, as pure exhaustion tipped you over and made your head finally hit down. There were no dreams, nightmares or memories to haunt you, as you were awoken before any of them could take shape. Firm knocks on the door announced your maids, and they filled the room in their designated corners. 

‘Good morning, miss.’ They said chirpily as they got you dressed and ready for another day. All you replied with throughout the entire process was a mumbled ‘’morning,’ which you hoped could be blamed for having only been awake for a few minutes.

‘Breakfast will be served soon,’ you heard. The mention of food again twisted at your guts, but an idea began to bloom in your mind.

‘Will my father be there?’ He seldom dined with you, leaving you to eat your meals in the company of the staff, but you assumed he would want to see you after all these weeks.

‘I assume so,’ the woman brushing your hair said. You nodded curtly, as much as possible, when someone held on to your head. The prospect of speaking to your father face to face brought a new energy into your step. 

You walked out of that room determined and with your head held high, only to be disturbed by footsteps parallel to yours. Two pairs. At first, you thought it was a coincidence, and they just happened to be walking there, too, but they followed you down the hallway, around all the corners. By the time you reached the dining room doors, you had grown tired of it.

‘I am quite capable of walking on my own, thank you,’ you said, coming to an abrupt stop, making the two men behind you  ‘have done it all my life, in fact.’

‘Yes, of course, miss,’ said one of the guards who you bumped into at your sudden halt. ‘It is just—’

‘Just what?’ You crossed your arms.

‘Well, your father—’ he stopped speaking at the sight of your unimpressed, somewhat annoyed expression. He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the confrontation. ‘We are here to protect you.’

‘From what exactly?’ This was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

‘From any danger, miss.’

‘I was not aware this house was so full of threats.’ You rolled your eyes. ‘I appreciate the efforts, gentlemen, but I doubt you will be needed.’

‘But your father, miss.’ The other man tried to argue, but you were not having any of it.

‘I will not be patrolled in my own home!’ You shouted, pushing the doors to the dining room open. Your father sat at the opposite end of the large table, fork mid-air to his mouth. ‘Father, this is absurd.’

‘I think it is perfectly reasonable to want to protect my daughter. What is absurd,’ much to your annoyance, he spoke in his usual collected and cool-toned manner. He waited to continue speaking until you sat at the table. ‘Is you being held hostage for weeks at the hands of some barbarians.’

‘They are not barbarians, Father,’ you ignored the hands that spooned food onto your plate. ‘They took rather good care of me, actually.’ You bit your cheek, trying not to think of the days you spent in a cage. But even considering that, you were aware of your fortune with the circumstances you had been put under. Many more people had encountered enemies at sea, and few had been able to return home and live to tell the tale… or the preferred version of events, at least. 

‘Is that why you look so sick and frail?’ he spoke bluntly, taking you back. ‘Because of how well they treated you?’

‘They did their best with what they had,’ you believed. It was your choice to starve yourself for the first days on board, refusing to eat anything they gave you. And you could hardly expect a feast such as you held in front of you now, every day in the middle of the deep waters. Even on board the Red Tail, the meals had been somewhat shoddy. ‘I just do not think that…’ you stopped yourself from using his name. ‘That man deserves to be in prison.’

‘Of course not.’ Your father took a bite. ‘He will be hanged for his crimes.’

‘W-what?’ Your fork clattered onto the ground. ‘Father, you cannot— I know he had tried to take money from you but—’ Murder and high treason. That is what he was arrested for. Had your father somehow found out about the Red Tail? But how could he… there were no survivors. 

No survivors. He killed them all. He had— 

‘Do you know who that man is?’ Something in your father’s voice sounded sharper, more pointed. 

‘I thought so,’ you hesitated. Yes, you had spent your days and most tender moments with him, but what did you know about Eddie Munson?

‘Then you should understand the severity of this situation.’ Only if you were to believe hearsay and talk of the people on the streets that shaped this image of a blood-thirsty monster that roamed the seven seas, killing everything in his path. It is what you believed him to be yourself until not very long ago until practically every fibre in your body had been proven wrong.

Or at least, God, you hoped you had been wrong.

Your father sighed, ‘I know it is difficult, after all you must have spent a lot of time with them on that ship, and I do not know what lies they had fed you, but these are serious matters that begun long before any of this and need to finally be taken care of.’

‘Well, explain it to me because I would like to know what is happening.’ 

At this, he scoffed. ‘All you need to know is that man is a dangerous criminal and should be treated as such.’ But then, what about everything Eddie had told you? What about all the pieces you had managed to gather of the crumbs he and everyone else left you? There was more to it all, and maybe you did not understand yet, but you would.

‘When?’ you plucked at your food on the plate, defeated, ‘when is the hanging?’

‘In four days.’ If you had been well enough to eat, you would have choked. You had barely come to terms with returning home, if at all, and now this. Prisoners were usually held for weeks before a date was set for an execution. They were clearly adamant about taking care of him quickly. 

For the sake of everyone else, you ate a bit of your breakfast, each bite sticking uncomfortably heavy in your throat.  After that, you got up without saying another word. The two guards who had walked in with you were on high alert again, ready to follow you, but stopped to look nervously at the governor when you glared at them. 

‘Let her go,’ he waved them off, ‘but keep an eye on her.’

You huffed out a breath and walked away. 

The rest of the day you spent walking around the town, mainly the alley of the market that led to one of the entrances to the dungeons. You had no idea why you were there, considering there was nothing you could do. Besides the fact you could clearly see the new set of guards appointed to follow you around the streets, they seemed utterly futile, considering all eyes in the street were on you. Every person there was highly aware of your presence. 

You used to walk around the market nearly daily, making polite chats with the salesmen as you bought fresh fruit to later eat at the shore or in the garden. Most people knew that you had decided to join the Red Tail on their voyage primarily because of your enthusiasm to finally leave the island and go on an adventure.

It must have taken quite some time, they would say in some form or another, to convince your father.

I can be quite persuasive when I have to be; you remember how proud you had felt. After months of begging everyone around you to let you go, promising them that you would be safe and careful and not get in the way of anyone, finally, they let you go. Under Admiral Carver’s watch, you spent weeks enjoying the breeze and the waves, awaiting what the rest of the world would bring.

The ship sailed for four weeks to another naval post. You did not know their exact business, nor did you care, as you now had a whole new land to explore. The city was larger and nothing like home. The people looked different and spoke an entirely different language, but you still managed to get around and on the market behind your house. It had been excellent and eye-opening, only making you more eager to see what else to discover. But unfortunately, there was only so little time, and before you knew it, you had to return home. You remember the last day. It had been raining, but it did not stop anyone from loading the new supplies. Somehow it seemed like much more needed to be brought on board for this half of the journey than the first. 

What’s in those barrels, you asked, but no one ever replied. They barely ever did. It wasn’t your place to ask questions in these matters. You were simply a passenger on the ship, verging on stowaway, spending your days in the quiet of your own room for the most part until…

It was the middle of the day, and the sun burned above you brightly, yet you shivered. You had always known to trust your father’s judgement and his decisions, but there was no possible way in which this was right. That this was how it would end.

The alleyway practically screamed at you for you to go and run in and get him out of there, but with so many people watching, it would be hopeless. The guards would get you before you had even reached the stairs. You would have to wait.

‘It’s good to see you again, miss.’ A voice pulled you out of your thoughts. It took you a few slow blinks to realise who it was.

‘Oh, you too, Mr Bowman.’ you smiled towards the merchant as he smiled at you through his bushy beard. He was sitting next to his table of… you were not sure what to call them. The man was quite the eccentric, and you had barely ever seen him actually make a sale on any of his products, but you doubted he was there for business anyway. ‘Have I missed much in the past months?’ You could always count on him for good stories about the townsfolk. The man had all his senses on sharp, constantly vigilant of everything around him. 

‘I think your return is the biggest news we’ve had in a while.’ He scratched his beard, ‘That, and well, the upcoming execution, of course.’

‘People already know?’ You blinked, not having expected that to be public knowledge yet. Then again, it is an event like no other. Preparations have to be made.

‘Edward the Banished gets arrested, and you expect people not to know?’ He laughed almost mockingly as he usually did, but you looked at him blankly.

‘The Banished?’ you had heard much about Eddie, but this name was new to your ears. 

‘Yes, ridiculous name, if you ask me,’ he waved it off, ‘Pure sensationalism as it rolls smoother on the tongue than deserter or runagate, quisling, traitor—’

‘I understand,’ you stopped him nervously. ‘But how did he get this name? What did he do?’

‘HA!’ he startled you with volume. ‘What didn’t he do, you should ask.’ This caused many of the other merchants around you to weigh in on the subject. 

‘I heard he abducted the governor’s daughter.’

‘That’s her. She’s right here.’

‘Oh. Well, he had attempted to assassinate the king of England!’

‘The Prince, you blockhead. And he did kill him!’

‘He has burned entire islands down. All over a game of cards.’

‘Stole an entire fleet and handed it over to the Spanish, just like that.’

‘He drinks the blood of his enemies!’

‘Sold his soul to the devil!’

Everyone looked at the old man that shouted this out. You were afraid to ask more questions, so let the others do this for you. ‘What do you mean, he sold his soul?’ 

‘He did! Did all those things to offer himself to Satan and do his dirty deeds here on earth. He is cursed to sail the seas in his wicked ship with the unrighteous crew for all eternity.’

‘Well, that eternity won’t last much longer.’ Someone commented, resulting in a chuckle around the street. Most of the people laughed, but you stayed quiet, your mind going back to Eddie, his body covered in unexplainable scars. The wind suddenly grew stronger.

‘I’m telling you,’ the man continued, ‘we won’t get rid of him yet! Not until Hell freezes over!’

‘Someone give the man a hat; he’s had too much sun,’ Mr Bowman called, rich coming from him, whose balding head was burning bright red. He then turned to you, shrugging as the rest had clearly proven his point. ‘And that is why I do not mess around with pirates, deary, no matter how charming they may seem.’

‘Excuse me?’ were the first words coming out of your mouth in the last few minutes, and you quickly regretted having them form into another question. 

‘I saw you two yesterday at the arrest.’ Of course, he had. Nothing around here ever escaped this man. He looked proud of himself for having witnessed the events. ‘It was quite dramatic, seeing lovers have to be broken apart like that.’

‘I think you might have had too much sun today,’ you tried to sound casual as you laughed it off. 

‘I am not here to judge,’ he said, putting his hands up in surrender, ‘simply to advise.’ 

‘Thank you, Mr Bowman.’ You smiled politely, ready to escape the conversation. You had been used to him often throwing around false and farfetched accusations, and even listening to this conversation, you knew it was nothing if not complete nonsense, just gossip gone too far along the years. So now that he had actually been correct, it stunned you, even maybe scared you. What would the people around you think if they knew what happened between you and Eddie? How would they react if they knew how you felt about his death sentence? You would be deemed mad. 

Of course, the not-so-inconspicuous guards followed you back to your room, where you stayed for the rest of the day until it was time for dinner. Your father did not join you this time. As hunger finally struck you, fighting nausea caused by the stress of the last few days, you ate everything served to you. 

On the ship, you had thought that once you came back, you wouldn't be able to stop eating all the things you had been missing for months, but nothing tasted as good as you remembered. In fact, nothing was as good as you remembered. The food was bland, the flowers not as vibrant, and the people not as joyous. Once, you had heard laughter and chatter, but it seemed like the streets grew cold and silent, leaving you alone to your thoughts. 

After your meal, you walked out of the room but turned left instead of taking the right towards your room. People immediately caught on. 

‘Miss? Where are you going?’ A guard called out.

‘Oh,’ you attempted to sound like you had not expected this exact conversation when you moved, ‘just thought of going on a stroll. The night air does me rather well.’ You grinned in a way you hoped would come off naive. 

‘I do not think that’s a good idea.’ The guard said. ‘I would suggest that you return to your room,’ he spoke in a tone telling you that it was not a suggestion at all. Not in the slightest.

‘Am I on house arrest?’

‘See it more as a curfew.’ 

You scoffed at the idea, or more that you had very little choice but to obey. There was a moment in which you stared up at the guard, switching between expressions to get him to crack and let you go, but to your disappointment, he cocked his head toward your room. 

How were you ever supposed to get to Eddie if they constantly watched you? The question kept you up another whole night and the next day. Just for the sake of it, since they so desperately needed to be with you at all times, you decided to sit in the library for about four hours with no book in sight, just staring out the window, letting them stare at you. At a certain point, you had caught one man actually yawning.

‘I am absolutely certain that there are at least fifty things that would be more  productive for you to do then this,’ you broke the deafening, maddening silence, still looking out the window. You had counted all the leaves on the tree branch that kept hitting the pane in the breeze and had recollected every corridor and door in the house. In the reflection of the glass, you could see the guards glance nervously at each other, and with a smile, you turned to face them. ‘You can just go. I won’t tell anyone.’ But they stood their ground. With a groan, you sank back down into the chair. 

It would take much longer for them to break, so much more time that you—that  Eddie—did not possess. Three days left before the execution. Three days left for you to take the chance and do something. Save him. There were a million ideas, one worse after the other, with so many risks and problems that it could eventually end in your own hanging. 

You shut your door at the end of the day, and it must have sounded through the entire house. Another day gone, and you had gotten nowhere. You could see the shadows of their feet come through the gap underneath your door, and they would be there the next morning when you awoke. Sleep deprived from tossing and turning as long as the sun was down. The bed still felt too big for comfort. At one point, they had run into the room at the sound of muffled screams, just for you to pull your head out of your pillow to yell at them to get out. 

You walked towards the dining room for breakfast, this time wearing a rose gold dress, surprised not to be followed by a parade of footsteps but halted at the sound of voices coming from inside the hall. 

‘I think it is safe to say that she does not require any supervision, sir.’ one of the guards said. You never bothered to learn their names, too frustrated to care, but you learned to recognise their voices from the amount of squabbling you had done. 

‘Is that so?’ your father munched away. 

‘She does nothing but mope around all day, quite harmless, I’d say… uhh, sir.’ The other added. 

Mope? You did not mope, if only because they sucked your life out with their constant “supervision”. As much as you wanted to burst into the room, you composed yourself and listened on. 

‘Does she seem well, in the head, I mean?’ Your father asked, but they did not reply. Not verbally, at least; you could imagine them looking at each other in the way they did, and just the idea made you clench your fists until they turned pale.

‘She’s stubborn, a bit immature, a bit aggressive.’ One of them chose his words carefully and slowly.

‘So that’s a no, I take it,’ your father concluded. You took this as your opportunity to announce yourself with a few loud steps, moving back a few paces to repeat them with exaggeration. 

‘Good evening, father,’ you said as you took your seat, not giving him or the other man any more of your attention. The guards glanced at you nervously before leaving the room.

‘Terrorised the guards, I see?’ he asked.

‘No more than they did me,’ you replied in the same emotionless tone as you ate.

‘I just wanted what’s best for you. It had been a tumultuous time, and you had gone through quite– ’

‘Is that a reason to… to lock me up and have me followed around like some kind of—’ You were at a loss for words, so instead, opted for a frustrated groan and stuffing your face with a forkful of lamb. 

‘Well, you’ve proved me wrong. Clearly, you can still care for yourself.’ he wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood up. ‘I’ll make them let you be from now on,’ and with that, he walked away. You couldn’t suppress the smile that rose to your lips once the doors closed behind him, immediately knowing the first place you were heading to with your newfound “freedom”. 

The kitchen. 

Well, that is not exactly the first thing. You had to wait for all the dishes to be cleared from the dining room, so you wandered around the corridors and then headed down the stairs as quietly as possible to not raise any attention to yourself. 

As suspected, the kitchen was empty. Most of the food on the plates still untouched. Quietly, you grabbed a basket and began picking things out here and there, those that would go unnoticed by anyone walking in to grab a midnight snack. The only thing that might have caught someone’s attention by going missing was one of the larger bottles of rum stacked on a shelf. 

You placed a napkin over the basket's content and grabbed one of the staff member’s hoods to cover yourself up with before heading outside. It would help against the cold night air and hopefully make you a bit less noticeable, as the grey hood did not stand out as much as your extravagant dress. As you took the first steps out into the garden, the idea came to you that maybe that was another idea of them trying to keep you inside these walls. After all, while you had always had nice clothing, it did not compare to the dresses you’ve worn since your return. It could be seen as a welcome home gift, but it was undeniable that the dress you wore now could be spotted from miles away.

You pulled the cloak tighter over yourself.

Besides a few men who were too drunk to notice or care who you were, the streets were also empty. The men standing at the prison doors were half asleep, and either way, you were not too anxious about them as they were usually more preoccupied with keeping people in than out. You slipped through the shadows into the alley and only dared to breathe once inside. The steps leading further into the building were uneven, especially in the dark. The only light was half-burned-up torches lining the path. A crinkly small corridor that eventually led to a crooked staircase. You could barely keep yourself up straight, almost tripping over your feet. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, where the dungeon's entrance stood, took almost longer than the walk to the building across town as you held onto the cold wall, doing your best not to fall.

Now, you could only pray that the final door was not locked. The handle wiggled and creaked open. 

You hesitated. What would await you inside? This whole trek had been based on your intuition that he would be put in one of the isolated cells, away from the petty criminals. But what if they kept him somewhere else? What if they had done something to him and… well, there was only one way to find out.

As you stepped into the caved-out room and almost instantaneously, never before had you felt such a cold fall over you. Maybe it was due to the thick walls absorbing all sound or how the slit-like windows below the ceiling only let through the tiniest slivers of moonlight, obstructing any of the day’s heat from entering the room. Or maybe it was the sight of him in the pale torchlight that chilled you to the bone. 

He was seated on the ground, framed by a cell jagged from rock and steel bars. The moonlight managed to just about frame his face, exhausted and fragile. His eyes were closed in pretend sleep. You could tell that much as his brows furrowed at the sound of your footsteps. You tried to call out to him, but your throat was stuck. But you didn’t need to say anything. He called your name in a weak voice, in a hesitant manner, as if he was making sure that what he saw was real. If you were really there. 

‘What are you doing here?’ he asked in disbelief.

What were you doing here?  You had been asking yourself this the entire walk up to the cells, trying to find a reason why it meant so much to you to see him again, to help him, and yet you still could not come up with anything. There was no response besides holding up the basket with a weak smile and saying, ‘I thought you would like some dinner.’ 

Eddie sat straight, pulling himself up by one of the cell bars. As you walked up to his cell and sat down on the ground beside him, you could feel his eyes on you. Pure disbelief at your presence, the food. You held the meat out to him, but he did not move. 

‘It is not poisoned,’ you smiled sheepishly, ‘if that is what you’re wondering.’ Even when you handed him the food to eat. He did so slowly, apprehensively at first, still unable to look away from you. Perfectly understandable. You had barely gotten used to this. How the beading and frame of the dress poked at you from every angle. Your feet hurt, and your hair had been pulled into an intricate hairstyle, causing you to walk around with a headache for hours. Not that it was anything to compare to Eddie’s circumstances. He sat in his cell, too small to stretch his body out in, with no bed, just the cold hard ground. They had removed his jacket and belt, leaving him to sit out the cold of the night in just his shirt. You also noticed a new bruise forming on his jaw, which certainly had not been there when you last saw him. All this to break him down, yet the way he looked at you—you could have sworn you were still lying together in his bed, far away from all this. 

He glanced down at your dress, how it pooled around you, almost leaking through the cell barriers up to him in all its opulence. ‘How the tables have turners, haven’t they, princess,’ he chuckled, and you had never thought to be so happy from hearing such a simple sound. The nickname felt deliberately chosen at this time, too. You pulled at the edges of your dress, collecting it closer to you.

‘I know, I look ridiculous.’ 

‘I think the word you’re looking for is beautiful,’ he said between bites, but you ignored the compliment, knowing that if you let it get to you, it would come together with a shower of tears. As he kept on eating his food, you sighed, letting your side hit the wall as you leaned up to him. You handed him more of the food that you had brought him and the rum, then let him finish in silence. His mere presence beside you already was more than enough. The sound of his deep calm breaths was enough to put you to rest, and it pleased you that the sea had not left him just yet. He still smelled of it. That fresh sea salt air was simply stuck in his hair. You refrained from combing your fingers through it.

This was already so far from what you had expected things to go like. You had thought that once you came home, even with his request for a hefty payment, he would still be welcomed as a hero. That you could make things work and somehow, maybe, naively, be together. Even now, you thought that if he saw you here, you would have some kind of moment of clarity where everything became crystal clear and easy to understand. That you would know exactly what to do, and it would be glorious. You thought he would be happy to see you. Never had you imagined him asking you again, ‘What are you doing here? Really.’

‘I wanted to see you,’ you said, but he could read past all your layers. ‘And… over the past few days, I have heard things. About you. Things that I can hardly believe to be true and yet are seen as such by the majority of people, so I hoped you could clear some things up for me.’

‘You don’t believe your own people but would believe me?’ He took a swig of the rum, already handing it back to you, but you declined, giving it back.

‘I have given you my trust more times than I should have, and so far, it has not led me down any dark paths, but I can only hope that you will not break that bond now.’ After all that you had been through? Was he in any position to do so? ‘So I hope you will tell me what really happened. I—I remember you, years ago, meeting with my father and Carver. You were in the military, right?’

Eddie let his head roll back, hitting the wall behind him with a shallow thud. ‘You remember me?’ 

‘It came to me during the storm. A memory of you walking with them in the garden. For the longest time, I could not make sense if it had been real or if my mind playing tricks on me, but I realised now what it was.  You looked different, but it was you, wasn’t it? You were like them?’ 

‘Turns out, maybe I still am, and more than you’d think,’  he sighed, ‘or less, depending on how you look at it.’ He took another sip of the drink. 

‘Will you tell me, please?’ You pleaded, eagerly awaiting the answers to what you had been trying to figure out long before you had returned home. Eddie looked apprehensive. 

‘What good will it do?’ He turned his head in your direction, still leaning against the wall. You moved over to be closer to him, your legs almost touching. 

‘Perhaps nothing, but—’ you sighed, ‘All my life, I’ve been protected. I’ve had everything handed to me without any trouble. I had spend most of my years never further away than these shores and always under someone’s watch. I had never had the space to make risks or mistakes. There was no such thing as danger. Even now, I had been under constant watch. No one will answer my questions or even listen to me because they want to protect me. Because they think I’m fragile and cannot handle it.’ 

At this, Eddie scoffed. ‘If anything, they cannot handle you, darling.’ 

‘Meanwhile, you,’ you smiled, ignoring the heat burning over your cheeks, ‘Well, perhaps not all your methods were ideal, but you never treated me like I was made of glass. You pushed me, and it actually, for once, made me feel alive and like I am worth being in the room with.’

Eddie reached for your hand. ‘You’re worth so much more than that,’ he mumbled against your knuckled as he kissed them. He held on to you as he began talking slowly, choosing his words wisely. ‘I had joined the navy younger than anyone should have—my parents couldn’t afford me, so I had to make myself useful quickly, and that felt at least somewhat commendable, no matter how it would end. 

‘Started right at the bottom, but I wanted to prove myself. I followed orders, did everything what was asked of me, and more, and I moved through the ranks. As I gained more of a position, I got more of an insight into the men I was working for and with.’ 

As he spoke, you watched his eyes pale, haze over with memories. The dam he had built around them had broken up, flooding out, and he could not stop it anymore.  He wanted to continue, but he hesitated, glancing your way, but you encouraged him to go on with a nod of the head. Even then, he scratched at his face nervously and took a deep breath. 

‘We would find ourselves everywhere around the world, and a certain power comes with wearing a uniform. It is universal, one that everyone understands and is willing to abuse. It was easy to see yourself as better than the poor locals, to excuse yourself from the import taxes and all the bureaucracy around the travel. I had done it myself, flashing a grin with the mindset of superiority.’ He hid his face in his hands, groaning. You reached out for his arm. 

‘Hey, it’s okay,’ you hushed, but was it really?

‘When you get that taste of power when it hits right, it is hard to let go. It had never sat well with me; every time I got away from a port without paying for my ship, I stayed up entire nights as the guilt ate away from me, but it had been what everyone else was doing, and you don’t want to fall behind. It had become a pressure to boast your power over those who did not have any. 

‘And this power…. it turned darker as simple actions of business turned to abuse. Swindling merchants of their products, conning drunks with games, and stealing their money. Taking advantage of… everyone. It had become a sport to them.

‘I was aware of it, but it had somehow never seemed that serious—it happened so gradually—until one day I saw one of the commanders with this girl…’ his breath hitched. You squeezed his hand to remind him that you were there, that you were listening. ‘She was just a child, and when I saw what he—I lost control of myself, lashed out at him. It had been stupid trying to argue with someone that outranked me. There was no one I could tell that would do anything about it, not when they were all just as bad.

‘Then Carver came up to me one day. Said that together we could make a change.’ Eddie’s jaw clenched. ‘I should have known better. He had always been too close with the rest of them, but we planned on making a change.

‘But on the day we were about to tell your father about everything that happened on our voyages—the day we saw each other in the garden, in fact,’ he squeezed your hand back. ‘We never got the chance because I was sent away.’ Something in you caught your breath, making him smile lightly. 

‘There had been talk of a war, and so I was sent out with a fleet to take charge. Carver had promised me he would take care of everything in my absence, but—’

‘He didn’t,’ you finished the sentence for him.

‘In a way, he did. Of course, it was all a hoax. He had needed an excuse to get rid of me. It took me three months to get back, having found no signs of possible ambushes, and when I did, I returned to the news that Hargrove, the commander I had attacked, had been found dead that same evening I left. And there was the missing gold and the rumours of a coup, among other things. Somehow, he had convinced everyone I had gone above and beyond in betraying our country, but the murder charges hit the heaviest. They thought I had killed one of our own.

‘The only people on my side had been those on the ship with me, and they had given up all they had by giving me their trust. They were marked as traitors just for standing up against the accusations. I  already had lost everything I had to lose and could not stand by it, so I left. I took my ship and my crew, and we sailed off. 

Bowman’s words rang through your mind as Eddie said this. Deserter. Runagate. Quisling. Traitor. You still wanted to ask him so much, but you let him speak before interrupting. 

‘The sea was a liberation. We were free to do whatever we wanted, so we did, but I always felt like I was tied back to this place. Like…’ he laughed, ‘like a rope was hanging around my neck, dragging me back here. At first, I thought it was guilt, so I did my best to reprimand everything they had done. I wanted to do something for all those men and women we had hurt, give them some form of protection against those uniforms. 

‘But no matter what I did, who I helped, that feeling did not stop. In a way, it grew worse. I got angry and felt like the only thing that would help me was revenge; I stayed up most nights thinking of unimaginable things. I got lost in the darkness of it. If it wasn’t for Harrington, I don’t know what would have become of me.’

‘Harrington?’ You could see how that would happen, but the mention of him somehow startled you. It's another piece of the story that made it feel so real.

‘He had been in a similar position as me. His commanding officer had been asking him to do all these dirty jobs until he had had enough. It had only been a couple of days since he had given up his post when we met one night at a tavern. He wouldn't have joined us if it had not been for a game of cards. Neither would have Robin.’

You had no idea how long you had sat there, just enough for your body to grow cold and stiff on the ground, but you could not care less about any of that, too focused on his story. As he mentioned Steve and Robin, his smile reached his eyes for the first time since you had arrived, revitalising you, knowing that there was still something in his life that left fond memories behind. You leaned forward, resting your chin on your hand as you listened on. 

‘Either way, I had fallen into a deep, dark pit, and Steve pulled me out. He showed me what I was doing did no good for anyone but them. It was eating me alive, killing me from the inside.’

‘But you still killed them all.’ The words left your mouth sooner than you could think them through. Knowing his reason behind it all made you understand, but it did not lessen the impact of the deed. 

Hearing you say that, Eddie quickly turned his entire body to you, pulling himself as close to you as possible, almost pushing himself through the bars. His eyes were full of an intensity that burned through your soul.

‘I am not trying to make excuses. I did what I did—I led my crew towards the Red Tail and let them sink that ship, but not for myself. That is what Harrington made me realise. I did not need to see them die, but they needed to pay for everything they had done. For ruining all those people’s lives. You must understand that?’ 

He didn’t need to see them die. Moments flashed before you of your very first seconds on the Hellfire. Of Eddie walking up to you, the words he spoke in front of you. 

– Carver? Where is that pesky little bilge rat? 

– Bled out on the ship. 

– Shame. Would have like to have seen that. ‘You weren’t even there.’ you whispered.

‘It wasn’t about me.’ He shook his head. ‘Besides, if I had been the one to kill them, it would have only satisfied them. To see me become what they had told the world I already was. All I wanted was for them to be gone. Just gone. 

‘None of this,’ his eyes darted over your face. ‘Was meant to happen to you. My men were simply looking for the things in the office that had already been stolen. But then they saw you under that table, they couldn’t leave you. You were innocent.’ His hand reached out to brush over your cheek. Only at his touch did you realise that you had started to cry as he wiped down your tears. ‘And to you, I am truly sorry for everything I put you through.’ 

 You had nothing to reply with but a kiss, pulling him close to you. The steel bars of the cell caused an awkward distance between you, yet you never felt closer. It was as if now, you finally, truly, knew who it was you were touching. The kiss had been brief, but the silence that followed stretched on. The two of you sat there, sinking away from reality, but the questions you still had kept you grounded. Just as Eddie had said, a noose dragging you back. 

‘Eddie,’ you called him carefully. ‘What about the letter?’ 

‘What letter, princess.’ His hand kept rubbing over your tear-stained cheek. 

‘You know which one I mean,’ you pulled back slightly to be able to look properly at him. ‘Who was it for?’ 

He laughed, the saddest laugh you had ever heard come from him, and it pained you from within. ‘What does all this matter? I will be dead soon. The less there is left of me here, the better.’

 You watched him pull himself up again to sit, tap his knuckles on his knee. His answer had angered you. ‘Because…’ you took a deep breath, taking the leap you had been too afraid to take. ‘it just gives me that much less time to know the man I have fallen in love with.’ You wanted to keep as much of him as possible. That is what you could do by listening. To give him that voice in his own story. 

Eddie fell silent. His mouth opened to speak, but no voice came out for several tries. He searched for the right words until he finally blinked slowly and looked up at the ceiling. His jaw clenched once again, in the way that he sucked in a deep breath. As he released it, he said: ‘Her name was Christina.’

‘Your wife?’ Again, you thought of what he had told you earlier. I  already had lost everything I had to lose. He must have had people who cared for him before all this had happened.

‘Fiancée,’ he corrected, not that it mattered to either of you. ‘We had known each other our whole lives, having grown up on the same streets. We kept each other strong with this promise that one-day things would get better. That we would escape from all the burdens and create our own paradise. She was the reason I—’ he couldn’t speak of it out loud, and you didn’t need him to. You didn’t tell him to continue the story when he eventually did. 

‘Foolishly, I had not told her anything of what went on. I told her things would finally be good for us when I returned. We would leave and never turn back. I thought I was protecting her by keeping it all from her, but it was the final nail in my coffin.

 ‘She had been the first person I saw after my return, and I could sense that something was wrong.  Then the guards knocked on the door, and she opened it like she had been expecting them. 

‘I could only assume it was Carver. That he told her what he told everyone else. She wouldn’t look at me, touch me, speak to me. No matter how hard I tried to prove myself, he had poisoned her with his words. In the end, she only saw me as a monster.’ 

The last word stung you in your chest, knowing how often you had used that exact word to describe him yourself. How often have you called him a monster or even worse?  But his openness triggered more memories to come up. Your conversations with the crew of the Red Tail. Their stories and lives. 

‘Christina…’ you mumbled the name with familiarity. ‘That was… that was the name of the admiral’s wife.’

‘It does not come to me as a surprise,’ he chuckled that sad laugh again. He had clearly expected to hear those words eventually. You looked at him, feeling the sting in the corners of your eyes. The tears were coming right back, but he quickly wiped those too. ‘Please, don’t. I do not need your pity. I have told you everything there is to know about me, and that is all I could or ever will ask of you again.’

‘I don’t—’ you wanted to speak, but he quickly went on. As he held your face in his hands, his thumb brushed over your lips, 

‘And I will cherish these moments, every second I spent with you, until my last breath. I will think of you as the sun sets, I promise you.’

‘What—what are you talking about?’ your voice choked between sobs. 

‘I never expected you to come here,’ he kissed you, passing all the feelings he had voiced earlier over to you with the touch of his lips, ‘but don’t come here again.’

‘What? No!’ You pushed yourself away. This wasn’t the plan. You were going to help him. You were going to get him out of here. As you got up to your feet, so did he, reaching for your hand again.

‘Listen to me.’ he gritted his teeth in desperation. ‘There is no way out of here, and it will only get worse for me.’ As he said so, your eyes flashed back to the bruise on his pale skin. ‘I do not want you to see me like that. Let this be where we say our goodbyes.’ He held your hand, finger over your knuckles, soothingly. You hated that he was comforting you at this moment.

‘No,’ you whimpered, head shaking. You turned your hand around in his to grab onto his fingers. One of his skull rings slowly began to slide off, and so you stopped before it dropped.

‘Please,’ he squeezed your hand.

‘No!’ you shouted, not caring if the guards outside could hear you. They might storm inside any second now and drag you out, they could try, but you wouldn’t let them. ‘I won’t let you die.’

‘It’s okay.’ He said. With every sentence he spoke, a new piece of the puzzle had been allotted to its place, but the final picture still blurred before your mind. It only seemed like even more gaps needed to be filled in, but it was slowly coming together, and when it did… You wanted to cry out. 

Eddie held you as best as he could through his restraints, the faintest smile painted over his lips. 

‘You knew, didn’t you?’ you stood there, defeated. ‘That if you would come back here with me, that this would happen. You knew you would be arrested and hanged.’

‘At least now I truly deserve it.’ All the crimes he committed at sea trying to help others, what he had let happen to the Red Tail. ‘So, please, just go. I promise, it will be alright.’ 

You wanted to scream at him. Hit him, punch him, and much more for all of this. You wanted him to hurt as much as you did as he told you to leave, but in reality, you doubted anything you could do to him would match even half of the pain you felt as you stood there. You wanted him to hurt, but all you could do was take one last step forward and pull him in to kiss you. 

When you left, you could still feel him on your lips. That feeling let you move step by step out onto the street. Everything else felt not quite right, not quite real. You walked mindlessly across the empty market, barely aware of your surroundings, until you suddenly stood in front of your room door. You dropped the empty basket at your side and practically floated onto the bed.

It was late; you had no idea what time exactly, but too late for anyone to help you get out of that corset. You lay on the bed, now unable to get up, unwilling to move even if you could, staring up at the ceiling. Maybe you never stopped staring or fell into a slumber, but the next morning you still lay on your back, barely changing position over the early morning hours.

 You sat in your room, looking at the tide coming and going, pushing the sand and the rocks through the hours. The hours blurred; days became night, and the moon turned into the sun. The following two days passed, and you spend them in silent disbelief and confusion, just fighting to not return to the prison cell.

There must be something you could do. People you could convince or pay or bribe in any other way to not let the execution take place. Help him escape. 

This could not be the end.

But Eddie had made his final wish clear. You were not to see him again, and what could you do when no one would listen to you? When everyone on the island had his mind set on what Eddie was? You were paralysed with helplessness, and no matter what you tried to do or what to think about, it just would not go away. It grew inside you, impossible to ever leave you again, and you were slowly making peace with that. Your own price to pay for not being able to do anything for him when he truly needed it.

Even when you arrived at the square, which was filling up with an audience hours before the event, were you trying to look for escape routes, but the more people arrived, the more challenging a wall they created to penetrate. You would never be able to run through it, but you thought of it. Holding his hand, never looking back.

The sun that afternoon was flaming hot, burning through all the layers of your dress that pinned into your ribs as you sat down. The governing families got the best seats on the raised platform in the house, with plush chairs to wait on while everything was prepared. There was only the cool breeze of your fan to cool you down, but it did nothing on your nerves. They burned within just as much as the sun's rays. 

You had not been sure if coming was a good choice or if you were prepared to witness Eddie’s death, but your absence would surely be questioned and… and you could not pass on the ever last possibility of seeing him. The dubiety ran through you with a threat of tears.

But more and more people came around to see, and you traced each face to find someone who could help you. Someone on your side. A familiar ally, but no luck. They were all prepared to see a man die tonight. The mumbling amongst them turned into chatter, and the conversations of local gossip turned to absolute mudslinging.

‘I heard he has killed over a thousand men with his bare hands.’

‘Well, I heard he had planned on taking over the army in order to become the next king!’

‘And I heard—’

‘I heard—’

I heard… One thing after the other, each one worse than the last. Could they not see this? All of it nothing but hearsay. They were putting a man on death row for things overheard at the market. Of course, no one would listen if you were to say this. 

The sky slowly turned a warm orange, glowing on the buildings like a soft fire. The bell in the church tower struck seven times, half through instinct and half through custom, people’s heads turned in one direction. All but yours because as they all looked at the procession—the court man carrying a large scroll of parchment, followed by the executioner, who pulled the chains that were locked around Eddie’s wrists and the two guardsmen behind him, weapons at the ready—you stared ahead at the gallows. The rope hanging on it looked short and could only mean one thing. 

A slow and painful death.

The clanking of the shackles echoed through the entire square with each step Eddie took. He was barely visible through the crowd, but the length of the executioner in front of him ensured everyone could follow the death march.

Eddie looked ill—pale and fragile. His steps were shaking, not improved at all by the heavy chains that pulled him forward. He stumbled around up the stairs to the gallow. You could see his eyes look up in fearful amazement at the construction of the gibbet. His Adam’s apple choked up and down, and then his eyes caught sight of you. 

Everything began to move at a slowed-down pace. 

He must not have expected you to come or hoped you wouldn’t because the brave and confident facade cracked for the tiniest moment. The sadness dominated his features for a glimpse of time, but it was all you could see. Too occupied by his view, he had missed his call to step up. The hangman shouted something from underneath his black hood, kicking Eddie forward. You flinched as Eddie kept his balance not to fall to the floor. You couldn’t do this. You could not watch this go down, but you did not want to leave him behind. Not ever. This could not be the end.

The court man stepped forward, unscrolling his parchment as he cleared his throat. It was enough for the people below, standing on the pavement, in the shadows of the buildings, on the balconies, to quiet down and listen as he read: 

‘On this day,’ his voice carried through the entire square, ‘we bear witness to the punishment of Edward Munson, pirate, for his admitted crimes of theft, perjury, extortion, abduction, desertion, high treason and murder, sentencing him to death as decided by the governing council. 

‘He shall hang here for God to give his final judgement and remain a reminder for any wrong-doers and sinners to come!’

You glanced at your father, who sat by untouched. Was Eddie’s body here to stay forever? You could not imagine having to walk around this town every day just to see his body be taken by the elements. 

The sun was nearly at the horizon, shining bright at all of you, its heat still heating your skin. 

The people cheered as the rope was put around Eddie’s neck, who waved to them as if they were not cheering on his demise. One hand pulling the other up, making the chain between them clink. A smile pulled at the corner of his lips, and it astonished you to see that he managed to stay his entertaining self even now. Always playing a role for the other man. Here to entertain. To provoke. To distract.

But the smile faded, body stiffened as the noose was pulled taut.

‘That’s a bit tight,’ Eddie commented, and in response to that, the hooded man pulled it even tighter. It dug into his skin. He looked down at where the floor would soon disappear from underneath him, then up at the sky and with a slight choke, he spoke out his final words, embellished by the last spark of his life: 

‘To reign is worth ambition though in hell: Better to reign in hell, then serve in heaven.’

People gasped, mumbling amongst each other once more until hushed to silence by the hangman walking up to the lever that would set everything into motion. As Eddie took his final breath, everyone held theirs in anticipation. Your hands were shaking; every breath you took felt like a betrayal to him and like a stab in your lungs. Your fan moved faster, the small gushes of wind barely doing anything to cool down your face. This could not be the end. Not this. Not now. It couldn’t be—

The arm was pulled, and it was as if it had removed the ground from underneath your feet; that’s how deep the drop in your stomach was as you saw Eddie fall. It was as much as you could bear seeing before you turned around, hiding your face in your hands, hiding your tears from everyone else. 

When hanging a person, two types of noose could be used. With the longer drop, the fall's impact would cause the neck to break and bring instant death. The shorter rope prolongs the act of dying as the rope digs into their throat, cutting off their air. During this, the square is filled with the sound of choked gasps, encouraged by the hundreds of onlookers. 

If you had been one of them, down there on the ground, with easy access to the podium, you would have stormed it. Cut the rope loose. But you sat on the balcony, surrounded by your father and the other gentlemen and guards, unable to move anywhere. So you could only hope that there would be someone to do what you wanted to do. That someone would show up and save him like you wish you could. But when no one came, and his strangled groans became more sporadic, you had had enough. You couldn’t do this. You could not sit by and watch or even listen to what was happening before you. 

Your father’s call of your name was muffled by the public, and your own internal screams as you ran out. Arms reached for you, but you pushed past them all. As soon as you were out of everyone’s sight, the tears started to flow, and they would not stop no matter how far you ran. And you wanted to run as far away as possible, as far away as your legs could take you. Off this island, away from these people. Yet, you eventually carried yourself back to the square. Each step made you dizzy through the corridors and down the stairs, but you could not stand still. 

You had thought you were faster, but as soon as you pushed the heavy doors open and saw the stream of people walking away, the truth sank into your bones. You pushed your way past the crowd back to the open marketplace. As soon as it was done, people lost interest and continued with their evenings as if nothing had happened, ready for whatever next was to come eventually. By the time you reached the foot of the gallow, there was practically no one else around you. 

The sun was saying its goodbyes, and his body was a dark shadow across the obscuring sky, hanging limp, still swinging from side to side but with every second coming closer to its final halt. Something about the movements looked so serene that you could not come to terms with that this was really it. Just like that… he was gone, but it happened so quickly, so easily. Too quickly. 

You stood in front of him as the last people left, and the sun disappeared at the end of the world until the real darkness fell upon you, and your tears finally dried out until your throat screamed for water and air, and you could barely stand up straight.

This could not be the end.

And you were one of the first people to hear of it. 

First, there was the prickling of the fire in the reading room, the flipping of the pages as you stared ahead at the words of the book, making yourself seem present in the room as your father sat by. Then there were the rushed footsteps in the hallway. The hushed whispers of hesitance behind the closed door as the men contemplated what to do. A creak of the door as they walked inside towards your father and leaned in to whisper so you would not hear what they had to say.

But the room was so quiet, you heard it quite clearly.

‘Sir, there is an…a problem.’

‘What is the matter?’ Your father, as always, did not find much need to express himself largely, but at the guard's response, his eyes grew wide, and for a moment, the glow of the fire seemed that much cooler.

‘The body…. It’s gone, sir.’

‘What do you mean,’ he composed himself quickly, ‘he is gone? How can that be?’ 

The guards never looked so small. ‘We do not know sir, but he is. It is like he has disappeared into thin air.’

‘Absurd,’ your father got up, and so did you. Before you got to say a word or take a step forward, he quickly stopped you. ‘You stay here.’

‘Absolutely not.’ Was all you replied as you rushed out of the room ahead of anyone else. 

You had already made your peace with never stepping a foot inside the town square ever again, not if you would have to be reminded of that afternoon, of everything that happened in the last months, but as you walked back up to it, you could not have been happier that you had returned. 

Only the rope left was where his body had hung and where it had meant to hang for days to come. Its perfectly knotted noose swayed like he had the last time you saw him. 

Everyone else was right behind you, but just before they reached the platform with you, you noticed something in the corner of your eye. A shine against the moonlight on the wooden beams. You could just barely reach it, but with a stretch of the arm, your fingertips just about managed to get a grip on it. Before you could look at it, you heard your father shout orders at the guards, making them search everywhere in the nearby surroundings. Maybe whoever had taken the body was still somewhere nearby. 

Whoever took it… was that what happened? Before you could look around for more signs that could clarify the situation, you were called to return back home. It would do little good to argue now, so you followed the guard tasked with escorting you to your room. Only when he closed your door and you sat down at your drawing desk that you opened your fist to reveal what it was you had found beneath the rope.

The pair of hollowed-out eyes of the skull ring stared back at you. There was no possible way for you to know what this meant if it even meant something, but you couldn’t help but smile. The ring was loose on your finger, but you kept it on. 

This could not be the end of Captain Eddie Munson. 

It wasn’t. 

For most people, he lived on as a ghost story, and as you had learned from a very young age, dead men tell no tales. The living pass their stories around, mouth to mouth, page to page. Blurring the truth with their urgency for clarity, they try to make sense of things they cannot understand. Secrets become myths and legends that barely resemble the truth. 

In most cases, it takes years, decades, if not centuries, but here, on this small island, the conversations on the street already trickled with gossip and rumours the following morning.

I did not want to believe it, but it must be true, what they say. He did sell his soul to the devil! And it came to retrieve his body. 

I told you! It is useless to try and kill the unkillable! No, did you not hear what he had said? “Better to reign in hell!” But he is the devil incarnate!

Well, I’m surprised they caught him in the first place! Why he must be a ghost. The lot of them on that wicked ship. All cursed, and now he will return to haunt us for the rest of our lives! 

Who was to say out of all of them what happened on that square once darkness fell? No one was there to see it or tell the truth, as all who could had long left the island. 

They left at night, days after everything went down after the search for Eddie’s missing body had been called off, “officially” said to have been stolen but never confirmed. Those who knew what happened to it stayed in hiding until it was safe to come out until all suspicions were blurred with the gossip and basically forgotten. Quietly, they ran to the harbour, unseen by anyone, swift as the wind. 

Unnoticed by anyone…but you.

Like most of the nights, unable to fall asleep, you had been looking out your window out at the harbour and the sea. The ships that calmly stood anchored there and the waves that pushed against them. Slowly, they put you to sleep, and so at first, you thought it was just a blur of your tired gaze, the dark spot in the far distance. It wasn’t a ship. And there, on the shore, there were no people preparing a boat. Not this late… 

You rubbed your eyes, trying to better understand what they were doing. Packing in a hurry, throwing things into the bottom of the rowboat. As you watched, you told yourself that it was just the exhaustion speaking, that you were fooling yourself with this hope, but you could not let the chance pass you by.

You left your room without bothering to put anything on over your nightgown. Quietly to not gain any attention, but still as quickly as you could manage. Who knew how much time you had left before they would leave? Then once out of the house, you ran as fast as you could. The past few days, it felt like it had been all you had been doing, running to and from things, running after something without even knowing what you were looking for, but now you knew. You ran until your lungs began to burn from the warm and dry air. Until your feet were ready to give in and until you reached the sandy beach. 

As much as you wanted to scream and shout, you kept quiet. You walked carefully up to the two figures at the shore until they noticed you next to them. It happened when you were only a few feet away; they heard the scuffle of your feet or your shaky breath and pulled their guns out. They were ready to shoot, but the second they needed to notice you in the dark saved your life. That is when you locked eyes with the man in front of you.

‘Eddie?’ you cried. Before he could say anything, you took the final few steps and closed the gap between you, pressing your lips against his. Just to know it was real. Just to make sure you had not gone completely mad. You pressed yourself against every inch of him that you could. 

With the need for air, you pulled back, and instinctually, your palm met the side of his face. ‘How? I saw you—’ You both breathed heavily, chests raising drastically as he turned back to face you with a smile and press his lips against yours again. Like the last pieces of the puzzle, his hands fit on your body perfectly. 

Then he pulled you apart, with his hands on your face, wiping away the tears that had formed along the way. ‘I know,’ he whispered, but the words were so close you could feel them. You could feel him. Just the feeling of his fingertips on your cheeks assured you that this was real and that it was really him. ‘And I’m so sorry.’

‘But why?’ You were trembling in his arms. 

‘I had realised very early on that the only way to truly escape this place was to die,’ he smiled the smile you thought you would never see again, ‘but, well, I was not ready for that just yet.’

‘But I saw you— I watched it all happen there—how did you—’ his being broke you. You could not stop staring at the man in front of you. At all the little knicks and cracks in his skin. The fading bruises, the scars, and the long red gash along his neck that proved everything that much more. 

‘I told you everything would be alright, didn’t I?’ And he never broke his promise. But still, as the truth settled in around you, it opened up a space for a new kind of hurt. 

‘Why didn’t you tell me? Why let me believe that you were gone?’

‘It was the one thing that actually killed me, believe me,’ he pushed the loose hair out of your face, ‘but I needed you to believe it like anyone else. If you believed it—it would make everything so much easier.’

You wanted to ask him what on earth that was supposed to mean, but that is when you remembered the boat at his side. And when you noticed Steve waiting impatiently behind him, the oar already in his hand.

 ‘You’re leaving.’ It wasn’t a question. Of course, he was. He couldn’t hide here forever. Out there, in the waters, he would be genuinely free. 

‘It’s all for the best, and with me gone for good, you could live on; move on,’ he said somberly. 

‘Do you think I could forget about you that easily?’ Your fist had clamped onto the material of his shirt. ‘Do you really think I think so little of you? That I had not spend every minute of the past days mourning you? Missing you?’ and now you had him… just to lose him again.

‘But it would all pass. You can find someone else, someone better, and be happy.’ He looked down at your hand to see the ring you had kept on your finger for the past few days. He kissed his ring and then looked back up at you. ‘Let me go, darling.’

‘No,’ you shook your head, much like you had in the dungeon, but this time, you were more adamant this time than ever. ‘I won’t let you. Not this time.’ 

He mumbled your name, trying to argue, but you were ready with a rebuttal before he even said anything.

‘I do not want to spend another day without you. Not if I know you are somewhere out there—’ you had been looking at the ring too, but then looked at him again as an idea formed in your brain. ‘Take me with you.’

‘I can’t do that,’ his smile was airy and light but filled with regret. ‘You belong here.’

‘No, I don’t. Remember what I told you when I came to see you?’ You pleaded with him. ‘Do you remember?’ You pushed the words out when he didn’t say anything. 

‘Yes.’ 

‘So, please, don’t leave me. Not again.’ At this point, you punched every word into his chest weakly as you began to cry again, and he let you. Then, when you were finally done, he held you, telling Steve off when he tried to put this to an end, even though he was right. There wasn’t much time left. The sun would come up soon again, and people would awake and see you, and it would all have been for nothing.

‘I wish I could give you the world, darling,’ he said, ‘I call you a princess, but we both know you should be treated as a queen and get anything you ask for, but I can’t do that for you. I am not the man you should be with.’ He kissed the top of your head. ‘Please, forgive me.’ And with that, he let you go. 

You had let him do many things in the past, but not this time.

‘Well, I don’t forgive you.’ He had already turned around to get to the boat, but you just stepped past him, stunning him and poor Steve, as you got in. ‘If you wanted the easy way out, Munson, you should have thought twice about who to kidnap.’ 

The two men looked bewildered momentarily, too stunned to respond, but Steve was the first to respond. ‘She’s right,’ and he followed you in. The boat rocked from side to side. You sighed as you looked at Eddie as he stood in the sand. 

‘I’m not scared, Eddie.’ you reached out your hand to him. ‘I want this.’ You wanted him. You wanted this life with him. You wanted to travel the world and have a life of adventures. You wanted to be free.

Eddie looked at you, still in apparent shock at your sudden assertion. You might have thought you had changed so much, but he still saw the same stubborn woman as that cursed day when you were hauled aboard his ship. On the contrary, he had been the one that changed, and he realised that as he cursed himself there on that beach. He knew he might come to regret this, but he thought he had regretted most of his choices, most of what he had done in the past months, and yet, he could not have been happier with where his life had led him, as it all led him to you. So, he took your hand and pulled himself into the boat.

You dropped the weights that had kept you anchored and made your way out into the sea where the Hellfire lay by patiently, waiting for her Captain and his Princess—despite what their titles actually may be—to return home.

The End.

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deeper | j.m  series masterlist! | next chapter!

pairing *:·ﾟjoel miller x female!reader wc *:·ﾟ4.1k an *:·ﾟthis is quite literally two times as long as the first part... oops? lmao i really enjoyed writing this so i hope that everyone enjoys reading it! i have two more parts planned after this, maybe some little drabbles in between or something too? but the series WILL get smuttier as it progresses so i promise you that :) this isn't edited much so if you catch something i didn't... please help ya girl out. hope you enjoy! comments and reblogs are hella welcome

synopsis *:·ﾟthe night has finally arrived: joel and ellie are visiting for dinner. afterwards, you learn more about just who joel miller really is. 

to say you were nervous about having joel and ellie over was a complete and total understatement. 

sure, you've had ellie over at your house before. she practically visits almost every day, sometimes staying for ten minutes, sometimes a few hours. it wasn't really her you were worried about, though, if you were being truthful. it was joel coming over that made you anxious. your fears were confirmed when you talked to him last night: you had a small, itsy-bitsy crush on the older man. 

it's not that there was anything wrong with that, either. but you were a child when the outbreak happened, and then you lived most of your life secluded from others. you simply haven't ever had the chance to crush on someone. not that there was ever really anyone worthy of crushing on until now, but that's beside the point. maybe this wasn't even a crush. maybe you just...liked joel? like as a friend?

no. it was a positively, absolutely a crush. 

it was this revelation that had you cleaning your house for most of the day. it wasn't even dirty to begin with. you simply just couldn't sit around, waiting for the moment that ellie and joel appeared on your doorstep. so, you dusted as much as you could, swept up the main areas of your house, and straightened up the small collection of clutter that you had accumulated within the months of being there. 

as the afternoon started to dip into the early evening, you began to prepare the food. you weren't the best cook, truthfully, so you decided to stick with what you did know. which is why you were going to be serving breakfast for dinner. you felt a little silly, but you figured this was better than serving burnt meat or something. besides, ellie had mentioned to you the other day that she had never tried pancakes before, and you had just so happened to trade a few of your blankets for a batch of mix that one of your neighbors had made.

you had just finished plating the last of the bacon you had cooked when you heard heavy footsteps on your porch, accompanied by a sharp, quick knock on the door. wiping your hands on your dishrag, you took a deep breath before making your way to the front entry way. despite your nerves, the smile on your face was genuine, as was the cheer in your voice as you greeted your two guests with a "hi!" 

ellie grinned up at you, her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail and wearing an oversized flannel that you wondered if it belonged to joel. she gave you a small hug before tilting her head back, sniffing the air. "oh man, it smells amazing in here. what is that?" she asked, leaving the entry way, and rushing into the kitchen without a response. you laughed after her before turning to face joel. 

he stood right in front of you, almost awkwardly. he was holding a giant sack in one hand, and your head tilted in question. "oh, uh," he cleared his throat, motioning to the sack. "ellie mentioned you had a fireplace but hated gathering the wood, so i uh, i brought you some. as a thank you." 

"that's the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, joel. thank you!" did his cheeks flush? certainly not. right? "you can leave it on the porch if you want. i can carry it in later." he nodded in agreement, setting the bag on the ground as you stepped to the side to let him in. 

“i hope you’re alright with breakfast for dinner,” you started, shutting the door behind joel, and leading him to your kitchen. “i found some pancake mix and wanted to surprise ellie.” your back was to him, but you could hear the stutter in his footsteps. turning back around, you saw him standing still, his eyes cinched at the corners. “is that okay, joel?” 

hearing his name must have snapped him out of his trance, as his dark eyes blinked, and his head shook slightly. “yeah, ‘s fine.” his voice was rough, like he forced the words out of his throat. his hand clenched into a fist, the broken face of his watch catching a ray of light. then his hand relaxed, and he started to close the gap between the two of you. 

“are you sure? because i can try to whip something else up if you- “ 

“said it was fine, hon. i mean it.” his hand brushed against yours briefly as he passed, making his way into the kitchen with ellie. one step forward, two steps back, you thought sadly as you took a breath before walking into the kitchen. 

"are these what i think they are?" the excitement in ellie's voice was notable, which put a smile on your face. ellie was curiously lifting the edge of one pancake on the platter until joel walked to her side, smacking her hand softly to make her let go, murmuring something about having manners that you could just barely hear. 

you handed ellie the platter and then turned her around, guiding her to your small dining table by her shoulders. "they are indeed, ellie bellie. i don't have any syrup, though, which is technically what you're supposed to put on top of them. i do have a few different types of jelly we could use, which is still just as good." 

ellie set the platter of food on the table, and the two of you went back and forth from the kitchen to the dining room, carrying plates of scrambled eggs, sausage patties and bacon, some toast, and a small collection of fruit that had started to grow again with the changing season. 

joel watched the two of you as he leaned against the counter, seemingly taking in the domesticity of it all. you bumped your hip against his on your way back in, motioning for him to follow you to the fridge. "here, old man. think you can carry these jars to the table, or do you need some help?" you teased, handing him a few different jars of jelly. 

he shook his head at you. "i see the kid's shitty sense of humor is rubbin' off on ya," he said, but he let you fill his hands with the goods. 

"hey! i heard that, jerk." ellie shouted from the dining room, causing the two of you to chuckle. you grabbed the pitcher of orange juice you had made earlier, as well as one full of water, and carried those to the table behind joel.

you both organized your goods on the table before taking a seat at the table. you and joel were facing each other, and ellie was off to the side. she was already holding her utensils in both hands, bouncing them off the table as she eagerly took in the spread of food. "can we?" she asked, not even taking her eyes off the pancake stack. 

"go for it, kid," you laughed, pouring out the drinks for everyone. joel watched ellie load her plate with a little of everything, and then he waited for you to do the same before he took his turn. you noticed he steered clear from the pancakes, which upset you, but you tried not to let it show. honestly you were just thankful that they had come over. small victories, you guess. 

ellie slathered up her pancakes with a little of each of the jelly spreads you had, and then practically shoved a whole pancake in her mouth. "oh my god," the words were muffled by the food. joel chewed on a piece of bacon, his eyes narrowing at the girl as she continued to boast about how good the food was, with her mouth full. 

"jesus, ellie. what have we talked about? have some manners, please." he asked, his voice a little stern as he handed ellie part of his napkin. you watched the interaction with a small grin on your face. they may not have been biologically related, but joel was every bit a father towards the girl and seeing his care for her in person made your stomach flutter. 

"sorry 'bout that," joel muttered your way, motioning to ellie with his fork. "we're workin' on it." ellie gave you a sheepish look before continuing to eat like she hadn't in days. which you knew was far from the truth, considering you had had her over for lunch just the other day. 

"it's okay. i remember how i was when i first came into the community, too. i'm glad she's enjoying it." you caught the questioning look in joel's eyes, as if he was curious to hear more. it definitely wasn't something you wanted to discuss in front of ellie, though. you knew she had been through a lot, probably more than you had if you were being honest, but you imagined that she was tired of hearing about all the bad in the world. you wanted to help show her, and joel, the good. because lord, did they look like they needed it. 

the conversation flowed easily after that. joel and ellie told you all about life in a qz, which was something you had managed to escape, as you and your family hid away in a secret bunker for the beginning of the outbreak. ellie told you about the school there and how much she hated it, how she would sneak out with a friend of hers sometimes and explore. this seemed to be news to joel, as he stared at her intently while she confessed these secrets. 

you learned how ellie loved to draw, and when you asked her if she would draw some art for your living room she practically shot out of her seat in excitement. you learned how joel used to play the guitar and how he wanted to be a singer before the outbreak, something ellie lovingly poked fun at. you could see it, though. he definitely had the voice for singing, a rich, thick, deep sound that you imagine could've sold millions. 

you practically begged him to teach you how to play the guitar, but he made no promises. ellie let it slip about the time that she found your hidden romance novels in a box in a closet, which had caused you to choke on your orange juice. she quickly steered the conversation to her comic books, though, and you blessed the kid’s short attention span. 

when the food had been demolished (mostly by ellie) you all gathered up the dirty dishes and lugged them back into the kitchen. as you gathered the cups from the table and walked into the kitchen, you saw joel standing at your sink, already washing off the plates. "oh, joel, you don't have to do that. i can do them later," you offered, balancing your cups on the counter near the sink. 

"'s not a problem, really. you cooked, i can clean." his voice was final, as was the firm glance he gave your way as you tried to sneak the sponge away from him. you held your hands up in surrender, laughing quietly as you made your way to the living room where ellie was. she was spread out across the couch, hands rested on her stomach with her eyes closed. 

her chest was rising and falling steadily, and so you poked her foot slightly, waiting a couple moments before doing it again. she didn't even flinch, so you quietly walked back into your kitchen, where joel was drying his hands off with a rag. "well, i'm like seventy percent sure the kid is asleep." 

"only seventy?" he asked, giving you a quirked eyebrow. you watched him fold up your dishrag and put it on the counter, and for some reason you were so enthralled with the gentleness of how he did it. how could anyone in this town be afraid of this man, how could they cross the street to the other sidewalk when he was passing by, when he was in your kitchen, washing your dishes and folding your rags? 

you cleared your throat. "yeah, only seventy. there's a slight chance she's faking it and trying to scare me, but the joke's on her. i'm not going to check on her again." you held your head up high, proud that you could have potentially caught on to one of ellie's pranks (though you would later realize she was, indeed, asleep, and in some turnabout way ellie still won because now she had you paranoid.) 

joel's lips curved, and you heard him mumble "oh, ellie," quite fondly. you both leaned back against your respective counters, and you were scrambling for something to say when joel beat you to it. "do you uh..." he coughed, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "would you wanna go sit on the porch, maybe? give the kid some space?" 

you had to stop yourself from squealing. here you were trying to think of ways to get joel to stay and he volunteered the perfect option himself. you found yourself shaking your head enthusiastically. "yeah! i can make us some drinks if you want?" he nodded in agreement, thanking you quietly before sneaking out to the porch. 

you gave yourself a moment to freak out before getting joel a glass of whiskey and yourself a glass of water. you snagged a blanket off of a chair and quietly shut the door behind you. joel was getting comfortable on the loveseat bench you had near the door, and you handed off his glass before settling down yourself, pulling the blanket around your legs. 

it was that time of year in wyoming where the mornings and evenings were still chilly from winter and more than not, you'd still need to bundle up, but the sun was blazing for the majority of the day. outside the sun was beginning to set, the sky a kaleidoscope of pink and orange and blue hues. the crickets were chirping again, and in the distance you could hear the soft tunes of music coming from the tipsy bison. 

joel turned towards you, motioning his glass of whiskey to you, offering you the first sip. you were never one to drink - you never got accustomed to the strong taste - but you didn’t want to turn joel down, so you accepted it with a grin, your fingers brushing against his softly. your face was already warm when you brought the cup to your mouth, taking a small sip that resulted in you coughing. 

“not a fan?” joel asked, a small smile on his face as he took the glass back from you. amusement sparkled in his brown eyes, and even if it was from your hiccup, you were happy that he was finally warming up to you. 

“not at all. my parents were big drinkers growin’ up so i kinda tried to avoid all of it. it’s not a very welcoming taste,” you laughed at yourself, wiping the edge of your mouth with the blanket. joel was still grinning at you, and he motioned the glass towards you again. 

“tastes better the second time,” he said casually, that sparkle still in his eyes. you narrowed your own eyes at him, a hint of a smile on your lips. “are you lying to me, joel miller?” 

“maybe, maybe not. one way to find out.” he shrugged his shoulders, angling the glass towards you even more. 

and you knew he was lying. you knew it and he knew it, but you wanted to see if it would make him smile again, maybe even laugh. so, you grabbed the cup, took in a deep breath, and took another sip. you wish you could say that you drank it with dignity, maybe just a small cough, but unfortunately that was not the case. the taste was so repulsive in your throat that it made you gag slightly, tears forming in the corners of your eyes, and god you were so embarrassed but - 

a deep chuckle sounded from the man next to you, the corners of his eyes creasing as his mouth spread into a grin. he placed his hand against his chest as he laughed, probably thinking you were a bit too much of an idiot to fall for his teasing. but to you? it was worth it. you wanted to be the cause of that sound forever. 

“that was mean, miller.” you laughed, taking a sip of the water that you had brought out with you. 

“i know, i’m sorry hun. couldn’t help myself,” his voice was teasing, his eyes shining in the pink and orange glow slowly fading from the skyline. you pulled your blanket around you tighter, trying to fight back the blush that always seemed to encompass your cheeks when you were around joel. “so… romance books, huh?” 

“oh, shush. they’re a guilty pleasure of mine, okay?” you confessed, your eyes rolling as you laughed. you had thought he might have missed ellie's comment about them earlier, but apparently not.  maybe it was the whiskey you sipped earlier, or maybe it was simply joel’s comforting presence, but you continued. “it’s kind of silly, but i’ve never been in love before. and i’ve always wondered what it would be like. to just… have someone by your side, fighting for you. those books are as close as i can get.” 

you watched his grin fade slowly and a distant look passed through his dark eyes. “‘m sure the books exaggerate the feeling quite a bit, though.” his voice was rough, and he rubbed his hand across his jaw almost absentmindedly. his gaze was on the bench of the seat between the two of you, where your toes were peeking out from underneath the blanket. 

“well, duh. they are fictional, joel.” you poked his arm that had moved to rest on the back of the bench, subsequently resting behind your shoulders. “but i think the authors had to pull from some real-life emotions, though, right?” 

“touché,” his shoulder shrugged as he responded, his mouth tilting up at the side. he let his hand fall from his jaw, his arm spreading across his legs as his hand reached to play with the tassels on the edge of your blanket. your heart raced.

“have you ever been in love?” your voice was quiet, curious. your fingers traced the edge of your cup, and joel's eyes zeroed in on the movement. you had learned an awful lot about ellie tonight, as you had been for the last few weeks that you've known her. but you were wanting to learn more about the man sitting next to you.

he was quiet, contemplative, even. for a second you worried you pressed too far, that he wasn't even going to respond to you. you were trying to figure out a way to backpedal when he cleared his throat. “thought i was, a long time ago. it wasn’t that kind of frilly romance stuff you read about, though. it was... real. and it didn't last.” you nodded your head, taking in his information silently.

god, did you want to press on more. this man was like a vault, only offering you pieces of himself when he felt it necessary. you wanted to hoard those pieces away for yourself until you collected enough to fully know who joel miller was. you felt like this may have been a topic he wasn't fully ready to dive into yet, so you turned it back to yourself. “sometimes i worry i’ll never be able to experience it. especially with the way the world is right now.”

he took a healthy sip from his glass, and you noticed he had placed his lips where yours had been. that made you shiver, and you tucked yourself tighter with the blanket. “well, i feel like if anyone deserves to, it should be you.” he avoided your gaze with his confession, focusing on the retreating sun and the sky as it grew into a darker hue. 

you were quiet for a second, your eyes squinting slightly as you inspected joel. his dark hair was tousled perfectly, and you could see hints of grey streaking through the strands. the same went for his beard, which he had kept close to his skin. his tan skin complemented the olive-green jacket he had put on, though you knew he wore it for the function rather than the aesthetic. he had freckles on the base of his hairline, near his ear. you wonder if he knew that.

“do you think you deserve a second chance to?” your words cut through the silence, causing joel to put that dark gaze on you rather than the sky. 

“don’t know what i think i deserve. i’m not the knight in shinin' armor hero that you read about, that’s for sure.” his voice was harsh, and he shook his head slightly before downing the rest of his drink, turning his eyes back to the sunset. you felt your heart break at his words.

“joel," you started softly, placing your hand on top of his arm that was resting behind you. you tilted your head to the side slightly to catch his eye. "i don’t know what you’ve experienced or what you’ve done, but the right person wouldn’t let that come between you. you did what you thought was necessary to survive, and honestly? i can’t blame you. you still deserve good things.”

you saw his grip tighten around his empty glass, but his gaze stayed focused on yours. god, did you hope that he understood what you were saying. that it somehow broke through the walls he surely had built around his heart. you could see his head nodding minutely, like his body was able to accept your words even if his head didn't.

the screen door opened just then, tearing the attention away to ellie as she slowly tripped her way onto the porch. she was rubbing her eyes with one of her hands, and while still yawning, she asked, "can we go home, joel?" 

joel shot you an amused look, and you stifled a laugh as he stood up, rubbing his hands together slightly as the air took a sharp chill. "sure thing, kiddo." you stood up too, walking over to ellie and giving her a quick hug. she thanked you for the dinner and lazily made her way down the porch steps, still rubbing her eyes. 

you turned to joel, who was watching his girl on the sidewalk. "thank you for coming over." you nudged a rock on the porch with your foot, wrapping your arms around your middle as you looked up to him. 

"thank you for invitin' us over. we really appreciate it." 

"of course. we could make this a weekly thing, ya know. if you wanted to, that is." you were dangerously close to rambling status, wanting to give joel reasons why he should say yes, so you shut your mouth, leaving it open to him. he glanced down at you, the height difference between the two of you leaving you just at his shoulders. you liked that, for some reason. 

he waited a moment before responding. "i think we could make it work, yeah." you could see the hint of a smile crossing his lips, and you couldn't help but smile back at him, taking a step closer to wrap your arms around his side. 

he froze, and you almost pulled away with an apology on your lips before you felt him shift, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. and then, you froze under him as you felt his lips brush against your forehead. the movement was so faint you thought you imagined it, but when he whispered, "good night, hon," you could feel his breath against your skin.

and so, you whispered back, "good night, joel," and pulled away, waving your fingers slightly as he went down the steps. he caught up to ellie in no time, and you grinned as you watched him put his arm around ellie's shoulders, steering her in the right direction. 

later you would replay the nights events in your mind on a loop. you'd come up with different things you should have done or should have said. you'd wonder about joel's response to the pancakes, and whether he would ever tell you the truth behind his flinch. you hoped he would believe that he did deserve that second chance, and you prayed that he would take it with you. 

but for right now, as the crickets chirped louder than before, as the streetlights started to flicker on one by one, and as the stars began littering the sky with their glow, you were happily content with the way things went tonight. and you knew, for certain, that you were in deep with joel miller. 

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