#just lying down and feeling the waves of sensation wash from the base of your neck down your throat to your core.

[neverendingford]

.

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: purely fuck buddy relationship with angst

“Buck-ahhh!” you gasped as Bucky licked his thumb and rubbed your clit.

The sensation was overwhelming and you stopped rocking your hips to enjoy his massage.

“Who said you could stop?” Bucky asked sternly from beneath you.

“Since I was doing most of the work to begin with,” you sighed and resumed rolling your hips.

“You insisted on being on top.”

“Well, we had so much fun last time!”

“How do you even remember the last time?” Bucky laughed. “You were wasted!”

“I remember having a good time!” you insisted.

“Last time, I distinctly remember you being closer,” Bucky said, tugging at your arms.

“You’re just saying that so you can reach my boobs.”

Bucky smirked, “now would that be so bad?”

Laughing, you leaned forward, placing one hand on either side of his head. You immediately remembered why this had been so fantastic, as your clit brushed over the base of his erection. Bucky moaned beneath you as you bucked your hips faster, pushing against him to maximize the ecstatic sensations spreading through your neurons.

Bucky propped himself up on his elbows and the two of you were now face to face, close enough for him to brush his lips on yours. His hot breath on your lips made you long for more. Before you knew it, his tongue was in your mouth, both of you moaning through your orgasms.

When you’d eventually recovered the use of your legs and caught your breath, you lifted yourself off Bucky’s lap.

“That really was as fun as I remembered!” you smirked, as you collected your clothing and headed to the bathroom.

You didn’t notice the change in Bucky’s expression as you left the room. When you returned, he was still lying naked on the bed.

“Get dressed,” you bent down and picked up his boxers and threw them at him. “You’ll catch a chill.”

“I’ll be fine, thanks.”

“Well don’t expect me to come back and take care of you if that happens. You know how I feel about sick people!” You fished your shoes out from under the bed and put them on.

“You’re leaving?” he asked, choosing to not correct you about his super soldier physiology.

“Yeah, I have a meeting at 7 am. Need to be up bright and early to stay ahead of the competition!”

“They don’t stand a chance against you.”

“Thanks, Buck! And thanks for the roll in the hay! I needed it.”

“No problem.”

He watched you adjust your suit. Just as you were ready to leave, he asked you to stay.

“You don’t have to leave, you know. You could stay here.”

“What would be the point?”

Bucky shrugged. “Don’t know, forget I mentioned it. Good luck with that meeting… not that you need it!”

“Well, you sure know how to make a girl feel special! I’ll see myself out. Not sure the neighbors will enjoy your birthday suit as much as I do!”

And without a backward glance, you left him lying naked on his bed.

Bucky lay there for several more moments before it became too cold to tolerate.  Goosebumps erupted on his flesh as a cool breeze wafted over his sweat-covered body. He may have been the Winter Soldier, but it didn’t mean that he didn’t feel the cold. He forced himself off the soft bed sheets and into the shower.

Standing under the shower head, Bucky let the steaming water wash away your scent. As the water pounded his face and rushed past his ears, he thought back to the day you had come into his life.

“Well, you look like someone who needs something a little more fun than…” you picked up his glass and tasted the amber liquid. “Mmmm, bourbon.”

Bucky looked at you with surprise and annoyance. “Excuse me? Who are you?”

You had introduced yourself with such charm, but it had been the mischievous glint in your eyes that had made Bucky forget his exasperation.

“What makes you think I need more fun in my life?” Bucky asked.

“Well just look at you!” you waved your hand over all of him, taking the opportunity to admire his tight black t-shirt and jeans.

“I’m aware of what I look like, thank you very much.”

“Oh really? Well then, why are you sitting here alone, drinking?”

“I’m not sitting here alone. I’m sitting here with you!” Bucky said, indignantly.

“Well then the least you could do is buy me a drink!”

“Where’s the need? You’ve pretty much finished mine.”

“But I have a proposition to make.”

Your tone was coquettish and Bucky was captivated despite his irritated demeanor.

“And drinks are required to make said proposition?” he conceded.

“A little liquid courage never hurt anyone,” you flirted.

“You don’t look like the type of person who needs any.” Bucky motioned towards the bartender, indicating that he wanted to order two drinks. You waited in silence until they arrived.

“Maybe it’s just my way of getting you to buy me a drink,” you winked.

Bucky smiled and set the drink in front of you. “One bravery beverage. Now spill… the proposition, not your drink. That was expensive.”

“Relax, will ya?”

“I am relaxed.”

“No you’re not, but you could be!” you smirked.

Bucky stepped out of the shower and laid a blanket down on the floor. It was probably best you had left, he thought. He wasn’t used to sleeping in the bed, anyway. At least, that was the excuse he gave himself as he drifted off to sleep.

Bucky answered the door to find you leaning against the wall opposite his apartment.

“Hey, you,” you smiled, seductively.

Bucky stood back to allow you entrance.

“Little hot for a trench coat, don’t you think?” Bucky asked, smirking at the amount of leg he could see under your coat.

“It’s about to get a lot hotter, Sergeant Barnes,” you whispered, after sauntering over and standing barely an inch away from his lips.

“I’m already sweating,” Bucky hummed, pressing his lips to yours.

“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” you managed to get out as Bucky slipped his tongue in your mouth.

His hands made his way up your thighs, fingers dragging over your silky skin. You wondered how long it would take him to notice that you weren’t wearing panties, in fact, you had on nothing but the tan coat.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you let Bucky move his lips down to your neck, his hands firmly pressed in your rounded cheeks.

“A little further down, please,” you breathed.

He had started sucking on your neck and you didn’t want to have to work too hard to cover your hickey tomorrow. Makeup was a wonderful thing but you didn’t want to use it all covering his love bites!

“Take off the coat!” he tugged at your collar with one hand.

“Patience, Barnes.”

“How can anyone be patient? I’d like to see what kind of underwear doesn’t cover your ass.”

“No such thing, Sergeant,” you smiled, slyly.

“Prove it.”

With a coy smile, you proceeded to unbutton your coat at an excruciatingly slow pace. Bucky watched you, the thirst in his eyes abundantly clear. As you reached the last button, you dropped your hands, the only thing left holding your coat in place was a flimsy belt.

Bucky reached forward and pulled apart the loosely knotted belt with one swift tug. He pushed the coat off your shoulders and it slid off your body in what felt like slow motion to Bucky, revealing your alluring figure standing naked in the middle of his living room.

“Well, Sergeant, thoughts?” you turned away from him and arched your back, highlighting your butt.

“Only one.” Bucky wrapped his arms around your waist, running his hands all over your body greedily.

"Do I need to offer a penny for you to share it?” You lifted your arms and pushed your fingers through his freshly washed hair. Making a fist, you tugged slightly.

“I think you know exactly what it is,” he murmured, burying his nose in the nape of your neck.

He kissed your shoulder gently, almost lovingly, one hand on your breast and the other fluttering teasingly over your thighs.

“Oh, come on, Bucky. I didn’t come here so you would make me come with kisses,” you cried impatiently, pushing back against his crotch and rubbing your ass against the increasing swelling in his pants. “I want you to fuck me. Now!”

Bucky laughed, “and what if I want to take my time?”

“Mr. Barnes, we both know what the deal is here.”

You spun around, hooked your fingers into the hem of his pants and pulled him against you. Throwing one arm around his neck, you pulled him into a kiss. He pulled you in so that your naked form was flush against him. You hooked one leg around his waist, Bucky naturally reacted by lifting you up, letting you wrap both of them around his waist as he carried you to the bedroom.

Bucky knelt on the edge of the bed and tenderly lowered you onto it. As he leaned forwards in his action, you used his momentum to pull him forwards, enjoying the pressure his body provided, loving that his polo shirt rode up, exposing his belly and the feel of his skin on yours.

Before you could demand any more pleasure, Bucky kissed you, with more passion than you had felt in a long time. When you both stopped temporarily to catch your breath, Bucky’s face stayed close, so close. His nose rubbed yours gently, and you opened your eyes to meet his piercing blue ones.

The gaze that returned yours frightened you. You had seen it before, you knew exactly what it was. It wasn’t just lust, there was longing … possibly even love. No, you had to put a stop to that immediately.

Pushing at his shoulders, and said, “Barnes, why don’t you make better use of that smart mouth of yours.” You dipped your head, indicating for him to go lower with his appreciation of you.

He smirked and complied without hesitation. Swiftly, he hoisted your legs onto his shoulders and proceeded to devour you, stopping just as you started to feel that familiar coil in the pit of your stomach.

“What the hell, Barnes?” you demanded, as he licked his lips.

“It’s not fair that you get to have all the fun!”

“You saying that wasn’t good for you?” you asked, cheekily.

“Not as good as this is going to be for me,” he growled, removing his belt with a smirk. It wasn’t long before he was bare below the waist and ready for action, but you gave him a few firm strokes to be certain!

As you started positioning yourself on his bed, with enough space for him to enter you, you realized that he hadn’t moved from the end of the bed where he had stood to remove his attire.

“What’s up now?” you tried to stop from rolling your eyes. Tried, but failed. Why wouldn’t he just fuck you already?

“I just thought you could … you know … return the favor.” He almost sounded a little shy.

You scrunched up your lips and tried to make yourself look thoughtful, with little success, since Bucky’s expression was too funny to keep a straight face. You pushed yourself up onto your knees and teased him with your lips and tongue until he was squirming and trying not to thrust too hard in your mouth.

After several minutes of teasing, you looked up at Bucky. “Want to finish this together?”

“That would be nice.”

And it was! Bucky felt so good inside you, pushing into you over and over, giving you pleasure in ways you had never thought possible. But why did he always have that look in his eyes while he pounded into you? Like he was searching your soul for some kind of connection, a meaning for your meetings.

The more you thought about it, the more uncomfortable it made you feel; that was, until your orgasm drove all those unsettling thoughts from your mind.

Bucky watched from his spot on the bed as you got dressed, as usual, after your encounters. You had left a bag of clean clothes at his place, for emergencies.

“You normally finish early on Thursdays, right?

"Yeah, you free for a fuck?"

"Do you want to go to dinner?”

Bucky tried to sound nonchalant, as he smoothed the bed sheets around him.

“Dinner? That’s new, we never go out together,” you countered.

“Maybe we can start?” Bucky’s blue eyes were focused on you now, waiting for your response.

“Sure, we can get food … but why?” you knew where he was going with this but you hoped he wouldn’t.

“Because that’s what people do when they date, they eat together.” It was as if Bucky was trying to point out the obvious.

“But we’re not dating ….” you sighed. This was exactly what you had hoped to avoid!

“We could be,” Bucky mustered up the courage to voice the thoughts that had been on his mind for a while now.

“Buck, you know I’m not looking for a relationship right now.”

Bucky didn’t move. He swallowed, to keep the muscles in his face occupied, to keep his guard up, to give him a moment to think of what to say next.

“I thought… maybe that might’ve changed…” he gave it another attempt. “I mean, you leave your clothes here.”

“Nope, still the same,” you continued to dress. “I enjoy our time together, Buck, but this is it. I don't want anything more right now.” You shrugged, all you wanted was for things to continue as they were, for them not to change. Was that too much to ask? The look on Bucky’s face was so hard to bear. And it wasn’t the first time you’d seen that look on a man. You’d known how he had felt for some time now, but you had chosen to ignore it because you had enjoyed his company.

"Maybe in the future?" He sounded desperate and he knew it.

“I’m not looking for that kind of relationship, James. This was such a great thing, why did you have to ruin it?” You bit back the tears that were stinging your eyes. You truly weren’t as ruthless as you sounded in this moment and you hated that you were hurting Bucky, but you knew what you wanted and it wasn’t being dragged into a relationship you weren’t ready for.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

The pain in his voice when he said those words, he shouldn’t have to apologize for caring for you. “We shouldn’t do this anymore,” you turned your back, letting your tears fall silently. You picked up the empty bag and your trench coat.

Suddenly, you felt Bucky’s hand on your arms. His grip was gentle. “Don’t go. I’m sorry I mentioned dating. Let’s keep things as they are now.”

“It’s too late for that, Buck,” you sighed again. Now that you knew how he felt, it would be cruel to continue with your current arrangement. “It’s a pity, I thought we were having a great time.”

“We were.” He smiled down at you sadly, knowing that you wouldn’t change your mind.

Standing up on your tiptoes, you placed a soft his on his cheek. “See you around, Buck,” you whispered, leaving him standing alone in his bedroom.

[bump1nthen1ght]

Playtime (Male! Vampire / Male!Reader)

Pairing: Male!Vampire x Male!Reader

Warnings: Explicit Content Ahead (18+ ONLY), Blood kink, Non-Consensual ( Hypnosis/ Compulsion), Biting, Rough Sex

Word Count: 1610 Words

Based off this Request (by @harukisakisblog ): Vampire x male reader. Non con (but reader enjoy it) also rough. Breeding i guess (bonus point if reader did get pregnant) also just reader begging to stop but in the end got turned into a cockslut. Mm、let's see.... I guess reader holes got so full that the cum started to get out of it while reader is just looking at the vampire asking for a second round. Idk man i'm horny so go wild please

If you had to describe the feeling of being compelled, the most apt metaphor you could think of is lying down on the beach. The sand leaves little pinpricks of fuzz on the nape of your neck and the back of your arms, the ebbing tide rund between the crevices of your vertebrae and rushes into your ears. It’s a billion different sensations that feel so small, yet so all encompassing.

That’s what your brain feels right now, body limp in the arms of this monster. Your conscious thoughts seem to ebb at the edge of being actionable, but fade before you can grab on. Your skin feels tingly, the freezing touch of the vampire now sucking on your neck so jarring yet unreal.

“Well, don’t you taste delectable.” The vampire purrs, not even wiping the fresh blood off his lips before kissing you on the cheek. “Yes, I think I made a fine choice. Don’t you agree? ”

The words are like slurry in your head, the vampire not waiting for an answer as he runs a clawed hand under your shirt.

“N-no….stop.” You slur, hand grabbing his wrist in the imitation of force. The vampire laughs, pushing your chest down and forcing you on your back. He wastes no time in throwing your legs over his shoulders, lifting your hips and slipping off your pants. A long, painted claw draws circles in the meat of your thigh, pushing up the hem of your boxers.

“Goodness.” The vampire moans, pressing his mouth right up to the skin and taking a deep breath. “You smell so sweet, I simply must have more.”

The sting of fangs biting into your leg barely registers in your mind, but your hands still push and claw at the vampire's chest, even as he remains immovable. The suction of his mouth, draining the blood from your thigh, is damn near erotic.

The vampire licks at your wound, face smeared in your blood and a wicked smile. His wandering hands moves across the fabric of your underwear and squeezes your cock. Your lower half jolts, unintentionally bucking into his grip. As your cock grows hard the vampire kisses down your leg, eventually reaching your clothed crotch. In a move far too gentle for the situation, he kisses your shaft, dangerous sharp teeth glistening in the low light. The open cut on your leg begins to burn, though it only lingers in the back of your mind

“P-please.” You beg, globes of tears dripping from your eyes. “Please don’t do this.”

The vampire tchts, moving his hand to stroke your erection.

“Aww, sweetheart. I’m only doing what we both want. What we both need.” He laughs again, that taunting laugh that tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. “Now, just relax for me, hmmm?”

Another wave of compulsion washes over you and your hands go limp against his chest. The vampire presses another kiss to your crotch before pulling down your underwear. Your hard cock bounces out, standing stiff against your stomach. The vampire licks his lips, flicking your boxers to the side of the room, off of your ankles.

The vampire sticks its two pointer fingers into its mouth, sucking languidly before releasing with a pop. You know immediately what he plans to do, especially when he smears more blood onto his fingertips. He presses against your tight entrance and you actually thank how the compulsion has relaxed your muscles, letting him sink into your asshole with little pain.

“That’s it. Open up for me, darling.”

A shiver runs down your spine. The pads of his fingers curl inside of you as the vampire reaches his knuckle. He sets a gentle pace of fucking you open, cooing petnames that glide right over you. The sensations shoot all the way to your toes, the vampire quickly finding your prostate and massaging it gently.

Your cock is left unattended, but not for long. The vampire spits into his free palm and begins jerking you off, matching the pace of his fingers and just teasing the heat in your belly. You bite your lip, your subconscious desperately telling you to fight this off. But instead your body whines when his ministrations stop, the burning in your crotch needing more when the vampire pulls his fingers out.

An animalistic keen leaves you, making the vampire laugh.

“So desperate. Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

With the sound of an undone belt buckle and some shuffled fabric, the vampire throws your legs over his shoulders, bending your limp body into a mating press as something cold touches the bare skin of your ass. Your lazy eyes shoot upward, meeting the vampire's ravenous gaze as he strokes his cock in preparation. That desperate voice, trying to fight, is scared by his size. But the one in control, the unconcious running you right now, is excited by how it might feel.

“Now, I want you to scream for me, can you do that?” Another bout of compulsion, though much weaker than before. “I want to hear my name coming out of that pretty little mouth of yours.” A clawed finger runs across your bottom lip. “Say it for me, dear. Say Emil, please fuck me.”

“Emil, please fuck me.” The unconscious says and you wish it was the compulsion that pushed it to do so.

“Good boy.”

With that, he begins to push his cock inside of your asshole, spitting into his hand and stroking his cock as he does. The pressure is less intense than it could have been without the fingering, but Emil’s girth is still formidable, the compulsion only doing so much to the burn. It doesn’t help that he continues to make lewd comments, Emil groaning as he stretches you open on his dick.

When his hips hit your backside, he moans again.

“Look at that, it’s a perfect fit!” Emil spanks one of your ass cheeks, moaning again when you clench around his cock. “Now, for the fun to begin.”

A strong grip grabs your jaw and pulls you into a sloppy kiss, Emil hunched over your body when he begins pounding your asshole. He shoves his tongue in when you gasp from the pressure, already that tight knot stirring in your belly.

The sound of skin slapping skin is debaucherous, which Emil seems to revel in. He makes sure to elevate his moans and gasps, hands holding tight around your jaw and forcing you to look into his crimson eyes. He licks his lips as he presses and swirls his hips against yours, drinking in your reaction.

“I want you to be loud.” The hand around your throat tightens, just enough to be a threat. You feel your eyes rolling unto the back of your head, your breathless moans getting caught at the back. “Scream for me.” Emil squeezes your throat again, pushing your head onto the bed and sitting himself up as he increases his pace. The compulsion and the way he’s brutalizing your prostate send stars behind your eyelids, your crotch canting towards Emil’s thrusts.

“Fuck! Yes, please, more!” The pleasure is all you know in the moment, your balls feeling tight as Emil laughs. His thumb brushes against your cheek while his other hand spanks your ass again. The buzzing has shot down to your toes again, you cock aching from the lack of attention. You’re actively meeting Emil’s thrusts now, tightening your core and throwing up your backside against Emil’s hips, trying to search for more.

That dizzying feeling approaches again, only elevated when Emil wraps a hand around your cock and begins jerking you off. You gasp, trying to focus in on Emil’s face but everything feels blurry. You recognize his laugh, the way his grip tugs and fondles you, but the context of it all is lost.

“Aww, thats right dearie, come for me. Cum on your master’s cock.”

Even without the psychic powers you feel the tug at your brain and your core, cock twitching in Emil’s hands as fucks you. He’s laughing amidst his moans, his pace growing sloppy as he reaches his own orgasm. “Cum all over yourself, watch as I fill you up.” Emil punctuates his words with powerful thrusts and you know you can’t take much more.

“Shit! Fuck!” You cry out, lower half tightening as your orgasm exploded outward, cum splattering up to your chest. Emil’s moan is beastly as he cums inside of you, spurts of his semen filling you up.

The after glow is short, Emil pulling out with a filthy schlick, brushing his long black hair out of his face. He looks down at you, a self- satisfied smirk taunting you. You can barely lift up your head, limbs shaking from the exertion. Your mind feels like it’s sunk into jello, warped and fruitless to move.

Emil sits back on his haunches, patting your thigh as he just watches you tired body. His cum drips out of you, bite marks on your neck and thigh only confirming your place. You’re his, his play thing.

He moves to sit up, feeling gracious enough to get you a wet rag to wipe yourself off, but is stopped. Your ankle is still hooked around the back of his knee, although you couldn’t stop him completely, it's enough to get his attention. Emil looks down at your face.

Your voice, croaking and desperate, calls to him.

“More.” You pant, weak calves trying to pull him back closer to you. Emil sees your cock, half-hard again, as your pretty eyes practically beg for another round.

Emil smirks. Seems he won’t be needing the compulsion anymore.

[queenshelby]

Making Babies

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 1,345

Warning: Smut, Breeding Kink

Requested: By Anon

It’s been two months since you stopped taking the pill and your cycle had finally started to regulate itself.

A welcoming side effect from coming off the pill was your increased libido. It was through the roof and your poor husband Cillian was exhausted from all this baby making action.

But, who was he to deny you your pleasure? He couldn’t, he never did and he probably never will and, just like this, when you were lying in bed together and he was, once again occupied between your legs, he ran his hands over your hips and pelvis, feeling your muscles rippling and contracting as your body writhed in pleasure once again.

Your body felt like it was being consumed though your sex and you pulled at the sheets in futile desperation as your body strained with the almost electrical shocks of pre-orgasmic energy that coursed through you while Cillian was licking and kissing your most intimate body part.

When he began focusing directly on your clit with what seemed like an evilly lustful intent, the slowly building pressure in your belly suddenly exploded within you, sending powerful waves of pleasure rolling through your body and crashing into your mind.

The breath you had been holding in your chest was expelled with the force of your orgasm, and you screamed out with the force of your release.

‘Yes Cillian, oh god yes’ you moaned and your body convulsed powerfully in Cillian’s grip. He pulled his mouth of off your pussy and laid his hand over your mound, applying gentle pressure until you finally stopped trembling.

You were once again blown away by the force of your orgasm. Your entire body felt like it was bathed in static electricity and your pussy purred in contentment. You lifted yourself onto your elbows and smiled at Cillian.

‘Fuck, you are so damn good at this’ you giggled, looking at him, your eyes full of pleasure.

‘I can keep going if you want’ Cillian grinned just before he moved down and gave your clit another gentle lick, causing you to jump violently in his grasp.

‘No! I want you to put a baby in me now Cill’ you said, biting your lips suggestively.

Despite, you couldn’t really handle any more of his wicked tongue. Your clit was throbbing so hard that you was sure if he touched it again you would fly right off of the bed.

‘Let’s make a baby then’ Cillian chuckled and crawled up over your, rolling you onto your back again and kissing you hard on the mouth. You succumbed to his probing tongue, sucking it into your mouth and savoring the taste of your residue on his lips.

You had always loved having him on top of your like this and trailed your hands down his sides until you found his hips. You never ceased to be turned on by him and your body relaxed beneath him as he settled himself into the comfort of your thighs.

You touched his chest with your fingertips, slowly drawing invisible circles on his skin while looking into his beautiful blue eyes. Cillian could feel how much you loved him, and his heart swelled in his chest, straining to go out to you. He touched your face and gently caressed your cheek.

‘I love you babe’ he said gently before pressing his lips onto yours gently.

‘I love you too’ you said just before you began cradling his cock in your hand.

With his cock in your hand, you guided him towards the moist center of your sex. Taking a moment to rub his head up and down your pussy, you coated him with your juices until he was moving easily through your labia. Once you were satisfied that he was well lubricated, you drew the glistening head downwards and gasped as he suddenly parted you and began pressing forward, dipping into your velvet passage.

‘Oh god yes Cillian, I want you inside me so bad’ you moaned. The words had an unnatural taste to you at first, but when Cillian responded by suddenly plunged into you, you began to understand the value of urging him on which was something he loved.

Before long, Cillian was stroking into you hard, with steady, regular thrusts that made you huff every time his cock sank into you. Your pussy was still throbbing in post orgasmic spasms and clenched tightly at his ridged shaft, rippling with sensation each time he pulled back, only to be forced open again by another hard thrust, until your channel finally conformed to his shape.

The warm sensation of fullness spread quickly into your belly, and like a moth to a flame, you tilted your pelvis upwards until his long shaft was easily slicing into you.  Your body began to quake and tremble as you found your rhythm, and your hands clawed at the bed sheets in vain desperation as he drove his cock into you with fevered abandon.

Your quiet huffs and moans grew in volume as your body was relentlessly plundered, and Cillian grinned lustfully at your eagerness to be taken. The louder you became, the more you summoned the most base of his animal passions.

His hands moved under you and gripped your ass tightly, causing you to cry out as he lifted your hips high above the bed. Rising to his knees with you, he held your body against him and slammed into you with all his strength, rocking you hard with ferocity of his intimate assault.

You had desperately wanted him to be as excited as you was about your baby making sex, and the reality of finding yourself at the center of his unbridled passion connected with you on a level far deeper than you ever thought possible. Even as he used you so roughly, you felt a wave of ecstatic joy crest and wash over you, setting off a cascade of sensations pouring over. Every nerve in your body suddenly fired, merging together in a torrential rain of pleasure that flooded your mind. This connection flashed in your mind like lightning and you embraced it totally, knowing that your coming orgasm was caused more by your love for the man than by the pleasure he was giving you.

In a single, thunderous burst, your body exploded in orgasm and brightly lit colours of light danced in front of your eyes as if the entire room was being consumed by fireworks. The pressure gripped and rolled in your belly and you cried out in the pure elation of your release.

Cillian was already close when you came and the incredibly erotic sight of seeing you so consumed by the throes of your orgasm tore away what little control he had left. He lifted your legs to his shoulders and added his own voice to the music you had made as he buried his cock one last time and erupted into you, filling you with his warm cum.

‘Oh god yes Cillian’ you whimpered, turned on by the thought of him filling you with his cum now that you weren’t on birth control.

When he finally slid out of you, you succumbed to the urge to close your legs tightly, trapping his seed where he had left it. As he lay down next to you and pulled the covers over you, you melted into his arms, feeling an indescribable contentment creep over you.

‘You are beautiful, you know that?’ Cillian said quietly, his fingers running through your hair.

‘If you say so’ you giggled and, despite the fatigue of your body, your mind was racing as you thought about what could potentially be transpiring in your womb. You smiled secretly, and your eyes sparkled in the darkness as you thought about it and the warm glow you had been feeling continued to pulsate through you.

‘I know so and I think that you will make a fantastic mother’ Cillian said before kissing you gently.

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[harrywritingsbyme]

A Mess

Based Off Of This Ask

And This One

A/N: Something hot for you guys. I decided to throw in a lil ddlg (daddy dom little girl) vibe so yeah. It’s crazy hot with a dash of cute. I hope it doesn't suck...Enjoy🙃

Daddy looked so good. He’d just gotten off from work and now he was finally back at home with you after a long day. He had on a nice pair of black dress pants that hugged his lower body in all  of the right places, a crisp button-down shirt that was loosely cuffed up to his elbows, and his hair was a bit messy on the top of his head from a long day of running his fingers through it. From the moment you saw him walk through the front door, the warm area between your legs got even warmer and you began to feel a bit of a sticky sensation down there as well. It took a lot for you to stop yourself from pouncing on him as he poured himself a drink in the kitchen. You knew that if you just told Harry that you wanted him, he’d be more than willing to take care of you. He always took care of his little girl. It’s just that you knew he had a long day at work and you wanted to be a good girl for daddy. You were able to disguise your ever growing need for him by following his every move the way you normally did and making a little conversation with . As he made his way back into the living room to relax a little bit, you pitifully followed behind him and stood in front of him as he sank down into couch.

“Come here baby, daddy wants your cuddles.” Harry coos, making sure to poke out his lip and stretch his free arm out to pull you over onto his lap. He hadn’t even finished his sentence before  you were lifting the flowy little dress you had on up a bit to straddle one of his thighs. Since his legs were spread a bit, you were able to straddle one of his thighs and rest your bare pussy against his one of his clothed and hard thighs. When he first sat down and spread his legs, there was a sudden throb that went right through your already very sensitive clit. You were a bit obsessed with Harry man spreading. It just made him look so powerful and you absolutely adored the feeling of being small when you were in his presence. Before you sit down, Harry takes one final sip of his drink before moving back into his original position and tapping his lap for you to sit down. Once you’re comfortable on his upper thigh, Harry wraps an arm around your back and brings his free hand up to softly wrap around your throat. When he does this, an involuntary hum of delight leaves your mouth and your eyes close at the feeling of his strong ringed hand around you like this.

“You like this sweetheart?” Harry whispers to you, giving your throat a little squeeze.

“So much daddy.” You huff, relaxing into his light grip. “Can you do it tighter?” You ask him timidly.

“Like this?” Harry asks, tightening his grip a little bit.

“Tighter.” You softly instruct. 

“How about this?” Harry chuckles cynically, tightening his grip even more. That was what you wanted. His grip was nice and tight around your throat. 

“Perfect.” You whisper through his grip, digging yourself down into his thigh a little.

“Good, now open f’me.” Harry instructs, using the grip he had on you to pull your face closer to his. And upon his command, you part your lips for him. Harry then wastes no time removing the space between your lips and pushes his tongue into your mouth. When he does this you let out a muffled moan and you begin to rut against his thigh. You though that you were throbbing before, you were going even crazier now. He had a deliciously tight grip on your throat, he was holding you, and he was deeply kissing you. To say that your pussy was sticky and aching would be a complete understatement. As he continues to lick into your mouth and smack his lips against yours, you move yourself against his thigh. It felt so good to relieve some of the mounting pressure between your legs. And the fabric of his pants felt so good against your clit.

Harry could feel what you were doing and he decides to let you have your little moment. He gives your throat one final squeeze and relinquishes his grip on you. His now free arm goes around your waist and he lets you take control. You continue moving yourself back and forth against his thigh and you take the opportunity to move your lips off of his and down his neck. 

“Feelin’ good doll?” Harry hums, squeezing at your waist as you continue.

“Mhm.” You whimper through your kisses. You were feeling so good and as you continued dragging your cunt up and down his thigh, you could feel yourself getting and closer to your release. 

“Doing so good my sweetest girl.” Harry praises, continuing to gladly receive the kisses to his neck and the feeling of you using his thigh to get yourself off. Harry couldn’t get enough of what you were doing. He loved how you were making yourself feel good on his thigh. He loved it all so much that he was getting hard himself. By the way your whimpers got higher and your movements becoming a bit all over the place, Harry could tell that you were getting closer. To push you right over the edge, he unwraps one of his arms from around your waist and he pushes his hand up under your dress. After feeling around a little, Harry pinches the flesh on the upper area of your parted pussy lips. “You can do it, cum for daddy sweetie.” Harry encourages, bringing a finger down to wag it against your puffy clit. With this, your toes tightly curl, you dig yourself down into his finger and his thigh, and you lightly bite down on the skin of his neck as you let go. It felt so good to cum. The wave of your release washed right over you and it made you body go limp. It was amazing.

After a few minuets of Harry running his hands up and down your back along with telling you how good you did, you finally lift your head up from his shoulder. You were still in a loopy haze but you were able to move yourself back a bit and look down to see the damp spot in his pants from your release. 

“M’sorry daddy.” You whisper to him shyly, bringing your head back down to rest against his shoulder.

“If you wanna make it up to daddy, you can let me stuff that pretty little pussy of yours.” Harry leverages, pushing both of his hands under your dress and up to your hips. “Wanna do that doll?” Harry asks.

“Yes daddy.” You readily whisper back, nodding your head against his shoulder.

“Good girl.” Harry hums, tightening his grip on your hips before lifting your both up from the couch. He swiftly carries you both up the stairs and to the bedroom. When he reaches the foot of the bed, he loosens his secure grip on you and he lightly tosses you down onto the bed in front of him. When he sees you cutely staring up at him made Harry’s need for you grow even more. He wanted to make an even bigger mess of you. As he undresses himself, his mind wanders to all the things he wanted to do to you. He could picture you whining and crying below him as he pounded his cock into your tummy. “Want it baby?” Harry asks with a smirk, motioning down to his hard cock that was standing proudly between his legs.

“So much daddy.” You whine out to him. You were salivating at the sight of his cock. Even though you wanted him inside your pussy, you really wanted to feel the weight of his hard cock on your tongue too. But that could wait because you were dying to feel his cock stretch you out and push deep into your tummy.

As Harry climbs onto the bed, you keep your eyes glued to his cock. Once he’s kneeling between your legs, Harry is quick to tug the thin dress off of your body, tossing it onto the floor behind him. He then tugs you closer to him by your thighs, pulling you right up to his cock.

“So pretty when you’re hungry for m’cock.” Harry admires, looking down at you and pushing his cock back and forth, up and down your slick folds.

“Need it daddy!” You whine, pushing your hips up to move against his cock.

“You do baby? Need t’feel full?” Harry asks, moving his hips back to position his cock at your weepy entrance. But before you could even respond to his questions, you begin to feel his heavy cock begin to enter you. “Fuck!” Harry growls as he continues to push inside. He can feel your amazingly warm and spongy walls envelop his cock and stretch to make him fit. Ever since you sat in his lap, he was aching to be inside you.  He was dying to feel this.

After pushing all of his cock inside, you’re filled to the absolute brim with his cock and Harry was more than ready to pound into you. Before beginning though, Harry maneuvers your body into the position he wanted you in. Keeping you on your back, Harry lifts your legs that were lying on either side of him up and together before pushing them towards your chest. This was going to put a bit of pressure on your lower half, intensifying every last thrust he sent into you and pushing you closer to the edge even faster. Once youre in position, Harry delays no longer and begins to pour everything he has into you. His thrusts are so deep and filled with power. You could feel him slamming into the deepest part of you, the part that was in the pit of your stomach every time he drew his hips back into yours. He could feel his cock slamming into the back of your pussy every time and it felt amazing.

“Look even prettier when you’re stuffed.” Harry expresses, alluding to his previous statement of how pretty you looked when you were hungry for his cock. You looked so adorable while you whined and moaned about how deep he was going and how it felt so good. And in the process, you had a little bit of a dribble coming from the corner of your mouth. You were already loopy from your first release so you were definitely high from twice the pleasure. Your eyes were rolled back into your head as you took the extraordinary pleasure that Harry was relentlessly pounding into you. 

As he continues his attack on your cunt, Harry can feel you getting wetter and wetter. So wet that he pushes your legs down even more towards your chest (causing you to let out a little scream at how intense it was) to get a better look at your gushing pussy. The thick flesh of your pussy was glistening with your juices, you were soaking his cock and yourself. He couldn’t wait to mix his cum with those delicious juices that were streaming from your pussy. 

“Goodness baby, you’re making daddy’s cock a big beautiful mess.” Harry moans, feeling the ever familiar tingling sensation mounting in the pit of his stomach. Your pussy felt so good and he was in desperate need of a release. He then lets go of your legs, lowering them back down onto the bed and spreading them wide open. By doing this, he got a better view of your fucked out and dazed figure. You were clinging on by a thread, and Harry wanted to cut it. And to do that, he only had to do one thing. He brings a hand up to your lower stomach, lining it up right in the middle where he knows you are the most sensitive, and he presses down. He puts as much weight on your lower stomach as possible and he shoves you right over the edge. You were still very sensitive from your first release downstairs that this one was enough to suck the life out of you. Harry’s hand caused you to squirt heavily onto him and his cock. It felt so good to really let go. As you were letting go, Harry was also falling into his release. The way your walls quaked around his cock as you came did wonders for him, sending one final blow to the tight and fiery knot that was in the pit of his stomach and causing him to explode inside of you. He released all of his milky cum into your quivering walls before collapsing on top of you. He knows how much you love having his weight on top of you when the two of you were done.

The both of you were a complete and utter mess. And it felt really good. 

Masterlist

[whosjunglejim4322]

Umbra | J.Seo (m) 2

》 Genre: vampire au! Smut, fluff, minor angst and mentions of violence, This story also features Yuta, Taeyong, Jaehyun, Jungwoo, Doyoung and Mark as his coven members, hints towards poly x reader

》 Warnings: dick sucking, pussy eating, Johnny lowkey being a soft dom, daddy kink....I know y'all saw it coming don't even yell at me, you almost get eaten by a bad vampire but Yuta says not on my watch, Jungwoo being THEE bestest boy, mentions of marking/biting, masturbation...this is nasty I'm sorry, this story also eludes to action based violence, guest appearance by Kim Jongin

Johnny's self control wilts down to almost nothing with you, a real issue when you're in situations like this, literally begging to suck his cock despite the fact that his immortal brothers are right downstairs.

"Please, let me suck you off, pleaaassse?"

You're too good at this, but more than that you actually really are that desperate to have him in your mouth. He can feel it all around you, like a current rippling around a vibrating force. More so, he can smell it. His mouth waters.

"Fuck - you're really really misbehaving right now," He clenches his jaw as if he's agitated but you know by the way he allows you to stroke his length, by the way that he grinds his hips along with your rubbing that you've won.

"You really want it that bad? Hmm?" He grasps your chin firmly between two of his fingers, eyes low like that of a wild animal while he gazes into you. Your fervent nod is all that you use to reply while you shuffle down onto your knees, splaying your fingers across the meat of his thick thighs.

"You've barely even kissed me all day Johnny, it's the least you could do for me." You're exaggerating about the kissing part, but your teasing smile makes up for it, so does your palm tracing the protruding outline of his hard on.

Your eyes are so big, so innocent staring up at him from between his legs and he can't take it. Not when you're acting as if sucking him off is something that is an act of pleasure for you, like you need it.

"I'm sorry baby, didn't mean to neglect you," His resolve has been completely demolished, smashed to smithereens as your fingers undo the button of his jeans. "go ahead."

He presses his heels off the ground and lifts his hips, aiding you in pulling his pants off of his narrow hips, along with his black briefs. You really are impatient, not even bothering to pull either of the garments all the way down past his knees and barely letting his dick spring free from the confines.

He lets out a hiss when you wrap your hand around him so eagerly, bringing your lips to the thick of his shaft near his balls and pressing open mouthes kisses along the silky skin, ascending. He cradles your face all the while, biting back a groan when you circle your tongue around his plum tip.

You hum while he slips to the back of your throat, his cock only halfway in your mouth, pressing against your uvula. His jaw clenches, fingers clawing at his couch and chin in the air with the way he's thrown his head back against the cushions.

He always forgets just how good your mouth feels, how warm and wet and soft it is. You're so sloppy in your gratitude, and it's so endearing, so sweet and nasty. You pull him out just to kitten lick the tip, and the muscles in his thighs tense.

"Oh shit baby, yeah," he pants, reaching out to move bits of your hair that have fallen into your face. You take just the smooth head past your lips, hollowing your cheeks. "juuuust like that."

You sort of regret looking up at him through your lashes and seeing the downright dirty expression he's wearing so unabashedly, tongue wetting his plush lips while he captures your gaze like a deer in headlights.

The eye contact causes a profuse flutter to swarm in your belly, the burn of lust seeping between your thighs and engorging your clit until it's throbbing. You whine, the sound reverberating around his length as your throat constricts around him, and you gag, saliva dribbling down the veins of his shaft.

"Fuck, be careful baby," he taunts, purposely bucking his hips, only slightly as to prompt the sound from you again. You oblige him happily, driven by the gruffness of his tone. "your little throat might not be able to take all of daddy's dick."

Need surges through you like you've just been submerged in ice water, the feeling starting from the tips of your fingers and toes, the tip of your tongue. It leaves a tingling sensation in it's wake.

Without thinking, you use your free hand - the one that's not wrapped around the rest of his length that you aren't able to reach - and slip it down between your legs, rubbing yourself through your bottoms. It's all too much and you're so wet, so lost in the way prospect of it all.

He sees you, of course, but he doesn't have the heart to stop you. Not when he knows how horny you are, how badly you need to be touched. Really, if it weren't for the fact that you're so jubilantly sucking his dick right now, he'd rip you from off the floor and eat you till you're raw - but that'll come soon enough.

He's content for now, holding your face while you swirl your tongue around his aching dick, and he can hear the squelch of your wetness as you fuck yourself with your fingers. His throat burns at the thought of tasting it.

You quiver, and he realizes the pleasure you're giving yourself is making you falter, and he coos your name. "Look at you," he sounds awed, high off of the moment. "I'm gonna fuckin' cum, keep touching yourself like that."

And you do, despite the fact that it's got you all wobbly and sloppy. But he's okay with you just suckling the tip of his dick like you are, cheek against his thigh while your tongue licks his frenulum. It's when you look up at him like he's the whole world and more and he can see just how fucked out you are, lost in the haziness of the act, that he feels the muscles in his abdomen tense, eyes going black while the wave of ecstasy washes through him.

You swallow his cum greedily, moaning around his twitching length while the sweetness envelopes you from inside out. He hisses through his teeth while you mouth at his still inflated cock, before the floor shifts from underneath your knees and suddenly you're lying back against the bouncy cushions of the leather sofa.

"Look how wet that made you," cool air breezes against your sopping, naked sex, and you realize that the blur of fabric that you've just seen tossed behind him is your pants. "your little clit is swollen and everything."

His index and ring finger form a v shape as he spreads your lips apart, marveling at the stickiness that decorates your folds in wet strings. His free arm hooks around your right thigh and with a simple jerk he pulls you just inches away from his awaiting mouth.

Only one whine slips from your throat before he encapsulates your bud with his soft, cool lips - eyes trained on you while he twirls his skilled tongue in circles around it. He pulls away with an obnoxious, lewd sucking sound before diving back in, and your fingers reach for the front of his hair where it falls in his face.

You wonder how someone can be so skilled in all departments, it's utterly unfair. His tongue is fast, avaricious yet somehow so precise, never concentrating on one place too long and always giving you exactly what you need where you need it.

Even the image of him between your legs has you jerking, trying desperately to fight the way your eyes are shutting closed. The sound you made must have been pleasant to him - you're not sure yourself because all you can hear is his slurping and your own heartbeat - and he chuckles menacingly, pulling back to admire your spit soaked center. He keeps the pad of his thumb against your swollen clit.

"Talk to me baby, come on," he brings his mouth to hover over your heat, teasing you will the coolness of his breath. His smile is toothy when you whimper. "tell me how good I make you feel."

You writhe, grinding against his face when he uses the tip of his pink muscle to lick at your folds, your entrance. "You make me feel so good, so so good please please, don't stop." This satiates him, his vigor returning while you feel two of his fingers abruptly slide into you, the glide effortless.

You're loud now, completely forgetting about the rest of the houses inhabitants - and he has to from there way he curls the two digits, massaging your spongy walls in a come hither motion.

It's just what you needed to be on the verge of bliss, eyes shut tightly while you lose half of the strength in your already wobbly limbs, allowing him to hold you against his face while he eats until he's full.

You manage to reach down and grip onto his bicep, flexing and bulging underneath your fingertips from the way he fucks his fingers into your hole.

"Daddy...ohhhh daddy, mmm." You're slurring on your words but he hears them loud and clear, and a sound so jarring leaves his throat that you manage to pull yourself together enough to look down.

It never doesn't cause an automatic reaction of thrill to surge through your chest, like having the wind knocked out of you. The inky darkness fills his eyes, waterline violently red and you can see sharp, white teeth behind parted lips each time he licks a stripe through your cunt.

The force of your orgasm leaves you silent for a moment, like being submerged under water and all you can hear is the sound of your own blood rushing through your veins, the outside world a muffled melody.

You're still aware that his mouth hasn't given up, even as you leak and twitch and pull at his hair with a force that would hurt a human - but it only makes him harder, more greedy.

The pleasure still thrums in your bones as you come down, muscles flexing reflectively from the aftershocks, your palm against his forehead finally convincing him to hold off. Gentleness replaces his covet, and soft wet plucks of warmth are being spread across your thighs, in between them. Then, against your lips.

"Are you okay? Open your eyes so I know you aren't dead." The boop of his nose against yours along with his silliness has you giggling suddenly, despite the fact that you're still throbbing between your legs.

"I'll keep them closed as long as I want, I deserve it after that." You state, feigning resistance while crossing your arms over your chest. He's Johnny, though, so you're not surprised to feel the ghost of his mouth against the collumn of your throat, his breathing deliberate.

"Can you blame me? You don't make it very easy." He kisses your jaw, down to your chin and then to your lips, and you succumb. Just as he grasps your face, you feel the tip of his dick graze your sensitive center, and your gasp has him smiling against your mouth.

He pulls away, pulling his jeans up fast - but not fast enough - and you pout seeing that his dick is still so hard, obvious and bulging. As if already sensing what you're gonna say, he rolls his eyes, grabbing your bottoms from the floor and slipping them past your feet, up your thighs.

"I'm fine, more than fine. It's just vampire stamina, baby." He smirks and you fight back your whine, not being able to stop the joyous swelling of your heart whenever you even glance in his direction.

Once your pants are on you curl up to his side, nuzzling your face against the firmness of his chest. "Why do you want to neglect yourself so much? Is having sex with me soooooo taxing?" You tease, knowing he's scowling at you for the implication at all. What can you say? You're a menace.

"You're silly, ridiculous even. If I put my dick in you now, we won't be done until the sun falls. I'd rather not push it," he strokes your arms, your back. You wrap your arms around his torso. "plus Jungwoo and I were going to stop by the bank and feed, I'll need to get you home before then."

At this you sit up, his expression neutral while you turn to face him. "Why can't I stay?" You aren't quite sure how he feels about this, his dark eyebrows furrowing slightly, as if contemplating, while his hands play with your fingers.

"You want to spend the night in a house full of vampires?" Anyone else who hears his tone would think he's upset, mocking your judgement even - but you know him enough to tell that he's actually just perplexed, curious.

"I want to spend the night with you, in your room. I know it may seem stupid but I just-" his hands come to cradle your face, lips shushing you with a gentle peck. The contact has you hazy when he pulls away.

"None of that, remember? It's not stupid, I want you here too, of course. But I'll be gone come midnight to go with Jungwoo, I know that no harm will come to you but I have to know that you're comfortable."

You stroke his cheek with your thumb, heart doing flips at the prospect of actually being able to sleep in his room surrounded by things he enjoys, in a setting that involves him more than it does you. You smile shyly.

"I'm comfortable, really. I trust you, and I trust your weird vampire rules too." You're being honest, and maybe it sounds sketchy from an outside perspective - but nothing in your body feel inherently afraid. Maybe it's Jungwoos warm aura despite being frozen and youthful, or maybe it's your own stupidity - but you feel safe, oddly enough.

"I have shirts and pants in the closet there, in the black drawers," he points to a door just to the left of you both, and you realize you completely missed it. "and I can order some food for you."

You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him again while pleasant thoughts about the evenings plans begin to fill your head.

You're not sure what time it is when you awake, the blare of the movie you'd passed out while watching playing on his flat screen. It's the only light in the room and between flashes of scenes you struggle to find your phone, grabbing it once it's in your grasp.

12:30 AM.

You sit up, stretching your arms above your head. Once you'd eaten the takeout Johnny had delivered, you couldn't fight the need for sleep, and you're a bit annoyed now that you hadn't stayed up a little while longer. At least until he had to leave.

You yawn, and it occurs to you than your throat is dry, very dry. You search your surroundings for the water bottle you had earlier, but your hand smacks the empty container and sends it flying - a sigh leaving your lips.

You shouldn't. You really shouldn't, this wasn't part of the agreement - wandering off through the house on your own, especially not when he's gone. Your feet are moving before you make a conscious decision.

It's not like he expected you to just stay in his room, right? He would have told you specifically, sternly. Plus, you want something to drink, hopefully they have ice, or water. Of course they have water, dummy. Your hand wraps around his doorknob, and the darkness of the home greets you when you walk out, dressed in one Johnny's shirts and a pair of his sweats.

It's eery, you'll admit that much. The pale, bright moonlight streams through the huge picture windows at the end of the hallways, and you keep track of the turns you're making as to not get lost. The floor doesn't even creak, despite the house looking so historically ancient; a mirror of their age, in some ways.

Once you've arrived at the grand staircase, you're confident that the huge double doors to the left at the end of the steps, is the kitchen. Or a dungeon. You'll know soon enough. You take a paranoid look behind you, into the hallway you've just come from and back down to the corridor, before making your descent.

It is a kitchen, in fact. You can tell even that much in the dim lighting, a huge high wooden table sat elegantly in the middle, lined with stools that look as though they swivel. In the corner you can make out the shape of a fridge.

You feel too lucky, giggling like a schoolgirl whos just found a jar full of candy in her teachers desk. It's a miracle you haven't been caught, but your thoughts are suddenly elsewhere when your fingers wrap around the handle of the refrigerator, victory seeping into your bones at last while you think of the ice cold glass of water you get to enjoy and-

"There's nothing in there that will suit your tastes, sweetheart."

The yelp you let out is loud and echoes in the obscenely large kitchen, your hand clamping over your mouth while the muscles in your body ache with the aftershock of your fright. You turn around only to make sure you haven't just been spoken to by a ghost, almost positive that no one was here when you entered.

Yuta sits casually, perched in a stool at the far end of the dining room table. His skin is like silk in the little light that gleams from outside into the room, and you find yourself frozen; despite the fact you so vehemently swear to yourself you're not afraid.

You see his head cock to the side, only his smile visible from where you're at, blinding and oddly menacing considering the context. "Don't be so shy, I won't bite." He coos, and you unthaw just a bit.

"I'm not shy, you just scared me." You speak quietly, slowly but surely moving towards the table, only a few seats away from where he's sat. Your answer seems to ruminate in his mind for a while, his lithe hands clasped together.

"What are you searching for, anyways? Hmm?" His tone is oddly soft, melodic like music traveling through the air. You answer him almost immediately, deciding to sit directly next to him in an effort to prove you're not intimidated. Even if it's a lie.

"I was just thirsty...for water." He chuckles and suddenly his features are clearer somehow, standing out against the onyx shadows. You can feel his eyes on you but you keep your head down, worried about slipping up.

"Certainly, after the night you've had," he's there one minute, in his seat and as still as stone, and then he's gone. Before you have a chance to gasp at the cool breeze that whips past you, a glass is sat in front of you, straw included. "It must be so easy for him to forget how much you little humans need for survival."

He's back in his seat and suddenly you feel naked, knowing that well, they probably heard, but forgetting that they aren't bashful about their thoughts. Yuta finds it fascinating, the way you're shrinking in your chair. You swallow.

"Why didn't you and the others go with them? Johnny and Jungwoo, I mean." You take a sip of your water, and then other, and soon half the glass is gone as the vampire next to you eyes you with his inquisitive gaze.

"I prefer less orthodox methods of satiating my hunger, blood banks are just too...diluted." You ignore the shiver that wracks through you, humming in response. He leans forward, further into the light, and you meet his wild eyes for the first time tonight.

"Your pulse is fluttering like butterflies in a jar," The corner of his plush mouth turns upwards, pearly whites on show. "are you sure you aren't scared?" His lilt is too imperceptible, and you're not able to tell if he's genuinely concerned or testing your ability to maintain composure under pressure. You steady your breathing.

"If I were scared, I would have run out the moment you spooked me in the dark like a madman." Your reply prompts a laugh to bubble from his throat and the sound is surprisingly gleeful this time, his normally menacing eyes forming into crescent moons.

"You are funny, aren't you? Tell me, then," he tilts his chin, raven hair falling against his cheek as he questions you. "why didn't you run?" His eyebrows furrow, and the genuine query takes you by surprise.

To be honest, you're not exactly sure how to answer. You aren't sure yourself, but you answer anyways. You're here, after all. Turning back around would be worth nothing.

"I don't really know. I think you're kind of...unexpected. I mean, I was told you guys aren't a lot different than him, than Johnny. But it's even more striking up close." You don't expect the truth to be so freeing or easy to say out loud once you've spoken, but you're oddly more at ease. The vampire is quiet for a moment.

"Striking? My my, you are perplexing. You're telling the truth too, so often your kind are deliberately... deceptive...how odd." He sounds as if he's talking amongst himself rather than to you, but his eyes still implore into yours.

"What do you mean? If you can tell whether or not some ones lying, then what use is it to lie?" You question, interest piqued. If his mischievous smile is anything to go by, he's willing to indulge you.

"Out of fear, lust, greed. Nothing unusual. It's only natural to tell someone exactly what it is they want to hear, especially when their teeth are against your throat."

Strangely, he doesn't sound as ferocious as the statement may make it seem. If anything, it's as if there's more than one meaning to what he's said, but you don't ruminate on it. You're not even sure how long this willingness to conversate will last.

"And vampires don't fear? Or lust, or covet." You're probably pushing it, but it's too fascinating not to. It's like being in a cage with a great white just inches away from you, as if it couldn't break through the barrier and eat you alive if it were hungry enough. The faux security blanket makes you feel invincible.

"Of course we do," his thumbs twirl casually, long black nails clanking together. "but you see, we are only living up to people's preconceived notions, aren't we? Volatile, bloodthirsty...why put on a show if you aren't going to finish it?"

You shake your head at the vampire, and he clicks his tongue. "That may be true, most of us do think that way. I don't think I ever really had an opinion, until I met Johnny. And even meeting you, of course you're all capable of horrible things but look at what humans do to others on a daily basis."

Silence follows, not awkward or tense, just the steady rise and fall of your breathing, his impenetrable irises examining you for a minute. You figure he's had enough of talking to you for tonight, and you press your heels to the floor in an effort to get up from your stool - but his cold hand is pressed against your chest before you can get move from your seat.

Your heart beats a total of two drums before you're suddenly pulled behind him, your brain trying to process what's just happened in such a short amount of time. He's almost crouched, nose in the air like a bloodhound while his hand reaches back behind him to keep you pressed against him.

"Yuta what-"

"Someone's....here."

A loud, intrusive cracking sound erupts through the kitchen, splinters of wood flying around the shield of Yutas lithe body while what seems to be violent hissing leaves the vampires throat. Your face is against his shoulder blades and you regret taking a peek to see what - or who - is growling like that in front of him - and panic fills your throat with bile.

The man is unfamiliar and you'd think he was a vampire if it weren't for how different he looks from the others - wild, crazed. His lips are pulled back in a snarl as Yuta shouts something at the creature in a foreign language, and your body shakes with tremors at the sight of the mans mouthful of razor sharp teeth.

Another blur bursts through the kitchens mangled doors, and then another, and another, and you don't know what else to do so you cling on to the back of Yutas silky shirt, unaware that the new visitors are some of the homes residents.

"Take her!" Yuta shouts, and your blood runs cold at the implication, the snarling still ripping from the creatures throats. You let go of him and prepare to run but you slam into something hard, nearly falling to the ground if cool hands didn't reach out and steady you by your shoulders.

You look up, and Jungwoos serene expression sends a wave of calmness through your bones, his voice soothing and steady despite the whirlwind happening around you both. Something made of glass breaks behind you.

"It's okay, I'm here to protect you but we have to go, now." You're pulled to his chest before you can object, getting just a small, nearly missable glimpse of the ugly creatures that Yuta and what seems to be Jaehyun - maybe Taeyong but you can't tell - are fighting off, and you suddenly realize just how scary vampires can really be.

It's like being in a car, a nice car that doesn't even jolt when it passes deep potholes in the asphalt. Except, of course, this theoretical car doesn't have doors or a windshield and you can hear - and feel - the wind whipping around you, whistling in your ears.

It's only a few more seconds, maybe even just a minute before his inhuman pace slows and you recognize the hum of an conditioner, the scent of alcohol and the padding of his shoes against a hardwood floor. He stops completely and your eyes are still shut tight, fingers clinging onto the front of him as though you might fall off the face of the earth if you let go.

"You're like a newborn deer, your legs are all wobbly." Jungwoo chuckles, amused and the sound of his voice breaks you from your fear induced reverie - eyelids peeling open to see where exactly it is that your boyfriends coven brother has taken you.

Violet and maroon lights glow around you, illuminating the place with a neon aura. It's a bar, from what you can tell, the stools and countertop and bottles of miscellaneous substances stacked on shelves behind it. It's pristine, you can see even that in such dim lighting.

"Why - what's going on? I don't underst-" Jungwoo shushes you with a finger to your lips, shaking his head as if to dismiss any of your worries before they come to a front.

"It's okay sweet pea, don't worry your pretty little head about it." You grit your teeth, but before you can offer any sort of rebuttle, the door to what you assume is the entrance you came in, swings open and a swarm of familiar faces fill the space around you, your eyes searching for Johnny in the midst.

He's not there, and your chest begins to ache badly with anxiety. This whole thing is confusing and bewildering and you're not sure what to make of it, especially when no one seems to be answering your questions, talking amongst themselves.

"It was a Lampir, a fucking Lampir." Yuta spits, chest heaving and eyes still black. Doyoung approaches him, arms crossed over his chest.

"We know why, the minute we get involved with a human those pests come to bother us." You see why the vampire had been so indifferent before.

"Hold on hold on, if it's a Lampir then it had to have been sent by Jongin. They wouldn't come to our home without orders." Taeyong reasons. You find a seat in one of the bar stools, lying your head down on the countertop.

"Definitely. Jongin is like, super old and stuff and you know how he can get - do you think he wants her?" Mark inquires too casually, your body alert now, and your need for Johnnys presence becoming unbearable.

As if your thoughts were as loud as your yearning, the door opens once again and a familiar head of raven hair is the first thing you see, messy and disheveled. You're on your feet and slamming yourself against him before your eyes even meet, and at once you're home.

You don't even realize you're crying until he's patting your head gently, then your back and down your arms while he cradles you against his chest, cooing in that warm velvet tone. "Shh, it's okay you're okay, I'm here. You're safe." He's reassuring himself, as well.

You sniffle, pulling away just a fraction of an inch to peer up at him, to confirm you're not going through panic induced hullicinations.

Warm, honey eyes stare back at you and you breathe a true sigh of relief, large hands cradling your face. Reflectively, the words leave your mouth.

"Who's Jongin?" While wiping a wet tear from tour cheek with the pad of his thumb, his expression sours, and you are suddenly fully aware that something bigger is happening, something that you've been left out on. he looks up at one of his brothers.

"That thing...he was definitely ordered." He holds you close and continues stroking your skin, the sound of his voice - even when laced with annoyance and anger soothing to your senses. A strange scent dances underneath your nose and it's only now you realize his shirt is stained with something black, like tar.

You remove your head from his chest to examine the front of his garment, wondering how you hadn't noticed it before. It's in this brief moment that you realize they've all gone completely silent, faces contorting as if they're speaking but their mouths are closed - eyes shifting back and forth from one another.

You back up a fraction of an inch, enough to capture Johnny's attention and his brothers alike, your eyebrows furrowing accusingly. They're hiding something. Your skin feels itchy.

"What are you all doing?" You glance from Jaehyun, who's dimples are on show as he holds back a laugh - to Jungwoo who looks as though he'd be flushing in shame if we able - and then to your boyfriend, who couldn't hide his feelings or emotions even if he tried.

He takes a step towards you, preparing to open his mouth but Doyoung steps in front of him, pressing a hand to Johnny's chest. "Don't. She knows enough about us." His tone is bitter, filled with resentment and your stomach lurches uncomfortably, your boyfriends fingers wrapping around his brothers wrist and flinging his hand off of him in an instant. His eyes are suddenly furious, and again, you're missing something.

"Stop this at once, you're being childish. This involves her now whether we like it or not," Yuta steps in, expression so fierce you shrink yourself, his voice authorative. You're not sure anyone could defy him even if they tried, goosebumps erupting along your skin.

"are you prepared to take care of the situation yourself? To betray your brother and harm his human mate? Or perhaps you'd like to hand her to Jongin with your own hands?" The fury in Yutas voice is unmissable, everyone standing as still as statues as he locks eyes with Doyoung. Your gasp from his statement isn't even heard.

How the fuck did this happen?

Doyoung swallows, lips turned downwards into a rueful scowl, backing away from Johnny and his elder. He sounds apologetic when he speaks, but you know it's for his sake and now yours.

"Of course not, I just think this is all a bit ridiculous. We haven't had trouble with Lampir's for years."

"Do they really make that weird screeching sound when you rip their heart out?" Mark quips at Johnny enthusiastically. You feel dizzy, steadying yourself against the bar, desperate to feel the cool marble against your hot skin. Everything is becoming too hard to comprehend.

"Hey hey, look at me." Johnny is by your side, examining you with featherlight touches. He pulls your gaze up by your chin, and you can't force yourself to give him reassurance with a smile, not even a glimmer.

"You h-had to...to kill it. Your shirt, it's all messed up." You stutter.

"Hell yeah he did, it was awesome - nasty too, fresh Lampir blood reeks." Jaehyun and Mark high five. You hear a faint, hushed 'Shut the fuck up!' from Jungwoo.

"Yes, I did kill it. It - well it wanted you. That's why it was there," he looks pained, walking you to a nearby booth and sitting you down, slipping in beside you. "Jongin is a true elder, he's over a thousand years old and Lampirs aren't like us. They're driven only by hunger and greed, they possess almost no humanity." He explains. Taeyong finds a seat across from you, taking over.

"You see, because of Jongins age, these creatures believe that he is their leader. They're feral, and we believe that he somehow got word of you...and Johnny. Someone must have seen you come over tonight and reported back to him that a human is being shared by a coven." You tremble against Johnny’s sturdy frame, Yuta moving in beside Taeyong.

"If you think we are selfish and vile, you've seen nothing yet, little bird," the eldest of the coven inquires. "If we are correct, he wanted that Lampir to take you to him. He probably even promised it would get to taste you, if the task was completed. He'll know one of his little soldiers were slaughtered, it won't be long now."

Your eyes are already wide and welling with panic, jaw slack. You're not sure what to do with the fresh wave of tension that forms an uncomfortable knot in your belly, Johnny's arms holding you steady as if it'll stop the tremors.

"W-what do you mean? Is he coming here?" You look to the vampire holding you and his sorrowful, agonized expression only confirms your fears. You just want to sleep.

"Yes. He is. We can...feel it." Gears start to shift in your head.

"And that thing earlier, all of you going silent like that...?" You question, lilt more aggressive than you intend for it to be. Jungwoo bounds over, and as always, smiles as if not a thing in the world could tear it from his bouyant face.

"We can communicate through our minds, because we've been together for so long. And since Jongin is an elder, it's like a premonition of sorts - but it's also kind of a given, considering you did rip out that things heart." He sighs at Johnny, and you rest your head against his shoulder, too tired and overwhelmed by tonight's turn of events to ask anymore questions, to deal with the flurry of feelings that are rippling through you.

"You don't have to worry, you are safe. We know how to handle the situation, alright?" Your eyes stay close, head nodding. "Just, one thing," his octave lowers and you can sense the importance of whatever he's about to tell you, looking up at him through tired eyes.

"If he speaks to you, and only if he speaks to you, call him Kai. He won't take too kindly to a human using his formal name." Your skin crawls further, not only at the situation but also at the fact that such a pompous prick is doing this to you, seemingly for nothing. Despite your disgruntled expression, you nod in affirmation.

"He's close." It's Doyoung, facing the door, slender body rigid. You stiffen in your seat and Johnny leans down to kiss the crown of your head, the only reason you're not having a full mental breakdown in the middle of such a situation.

"What should I do? Should we stand?" You whisper urgently, having no need to be so quiet but scared to raise your voice any louder, as if the vampire on his way may hear you and it'll entice him all the more. Johnny shakes his head.

"It's best to to remain neutral, casual. Even though he already knows we know he's coming." he remarks, worried eyes giving you a once over that has another round of questions at the tip of your tongue. Jaehyun snorts at this, following mark to the booth behind you both.

"Yeah, she does look like a treat doesn't she," he says it in a reflective sort of way rather than crass. This still doesn't help your nerves, or the sudden feeling of being naked. "If he doesn't already know she's involved with you, her scent will definitely give it away. She'd have his mouth watering from a mile away-"

A harsh smack lands to the back of Jaehyuns head and he winces in faux pain, rubbing his burning scalp. Jungwoo curses him, muttering something in that same language that you don't understand, what looks so be a scold.

Knock knock knock.

The sound has you cold, still in your seat while the door handle is twisted, from the other side, slowly and deliberately, as if to draw this uncomfortable moment out even longer.

"Not going to invite me in?" The voice is musical and chastising, feigning offense. The door is then pulled open and a figure waltzes through the threshold, elegant and poised with his hands behind his back. His clothing is the first thing you notice, ostentatious and regal, purposely.

"Pardon our lack of hospitality, we unfortunately had to kill one of your pets." Yuta stands, and leisurely strolls towards the bronze, man and you realize that Yuta must be the only one old enough to address him so informally. The others stay put.

"Hmm....what a pity, I must say. I see your plaything is here," His dark eyes flit towards you like a snake, and his gaze is something you can't avoid. It's not like the others, this time it's like a magnetized force, and your body feels as if it's been pumped with morphine, though you're still very much conscious and aware. "come, I'd like to get a good look at you."

"Please, don't do that." Johnny growls, and the beautiful man chuckles, a lively sound that matches his youthful exterior, the malice hidden underneath such a pleasant mask.

"She hasn't been tainted with your blood, I see. Her mind is still susceptible...how very intriguing." The vampire tilts his head curiously, tapping his foot impatiently. "must I ask again?" The tension is only adding to his fascination and he breaks eye contact to glance at Yuta, enough time for you to squeeze Johnny's hand and give him a reassured nod.

It won't do anyone any good to sit here and defy the man anyways, and you aren't as scared as you should be, as always. Whatever happens, happens. Though you're confident that it won't be without a fight from the six other vampires in the room. Maybe minus Doyoung.

Johnny looks even more agonized than before, reluctantly slipping from the booth, hand still in yours as he allows you to walk towards Jongin. Kai. Call him Kai. Only if he speaks to you. Your boyfriends word repeats like a mantra as the excitment rolls off of Kai in rivulets.

Once in front of him he stares at Johnny's hand in yours, and the touch is abruptly gone, arm swinging lonesome by your side. Kai is tall, and his energy is as captivating as it is terrifying, in many ways. Knowing he sent that creature than almost attacked you earlier...

The breath leaves your lungs as the vampires smooth, golden face appears in front of your face in just one blink of your eyes, before he moves it to the side of your neck - hovering his nose over your throat.

Your pulse is hammering but there's nothing you can do about it, even as he takes a deep and dramatic inhale before blowing cold air against your skin. He hums, a content sound.

"It's so strange...surely if you're associating yourself with seven vampires you'd be at least a little marked up," he stands to his full stature, supple hand reaching out as he extends his index finger and traces the apple of your cheek. You remain outwardly calm, steady.

"But you are just as perfect as a rose petal, aren't you? And you only smell of that tall one." The gears shift in his head and something in his irises flickers, as he glances towards Johnny, sending shivers down your spine. The whole room senses it, you can even tell and you aren't immortal. Kai's stare feels as though it might burn right through you, but Yuta's velvet voice distinguishes the burn.

"She's marked, they're just not visible. We haven't all had the chance to mark her yet, I'm sure you know how those bonds can take some time."

Your thundering heartbeat pauses for just a fraction of a second, the absolute unequivocal tone in his voice giving you whiplash. Kai's neat, dark eyebrows raise, in what seems to be genuine surprise. Yuta steps closer, as does Johnny. A presence walks behind you as well but you aren't sure who it is just yet.

"Marked...you say? So this human..." Jongin smirks devilishly and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, soothed quickly by Yuta's touch against your nape. The presence behind you is Doyoung, you're also able to conclude, as his melodic voice is the next to speak.

"Ours. The human is ours." His tone is so factual, so unequivocal that for a moment you wonder where these acting skills even came from. Not even five minutes ago he was giving you the stare of death, now he presses himself closer to your back, Johnny on your side opposite to Yuta.

Jongin tongues his cheek, utterly fascinated. Something falls over the energy in the room and it's oddly safe, the old vampires shoulders slumping only slightly, eyes still lit with animation.

"She must melt in your mouth, to be so fawned over by seven immortals. Hmm...if only you weren't claimed, this sure put a damper on things," He pouts like a child, one hand perched underneath his chin whole the other arm wraps around his torso. He takes a step back and examines you, licking his gums.

"I surely would have had my Lampir take you to me instead of ripping you apart for himself. What an unfortunate set of circumstances." For the first time, you're genuinely disturbed by a vampire, and Yutas hand soothingly massages your skin, ever so slightly. The movement probably wouldn't be perceptible to others, if it weren't for the fact that the room is filled with supernatural creatures.

"This means that the meaning for your visit has been concluded? Has it not?" Johnny asks, jaw clenched and teeth gritting together. You can tell this is winding him up, that the tips of his ears would be red right about now if possible.

Jongin sighs dramatically, placing his hands on his hips while he gives you all a once over, smiling wickedly to himself. "For now, I'll leave you be. This whole ordeal has gotten me so thirsty...I'll enjoy my variety for now. You all enjoy your little bunny," he extends his hand towards you, stroking your cheek one last time. "hope you're all at least giving her a break between turns."

Your skin burns hot and he giggles, twiddling his fingers in goodbye as he turns his back, expression neutral before he disappears from the room. The front door swings idly in the wake of his dash.

You let out a breath, finally able to think somewhat clearly as the blood returns to your limbs. Johnny's arm is around your waist at once and you're suddenly so used to Yuta's touch that it feels odd when he lets his hand drop, lingering for only a moment. You bury your face in Johnny's chest, relieved, as sketchy as Jongins behavior might have been.

"I need a drink." Jungwoo muses, and the statement brings you somewhat back to current reality, though you refuse to move from Johnny's arms. Your voice is muffled against him.

"Where are we?" You hadn't had the chance to think if it previously, too busy like, fearing for your life and all.

"This is our place, you're looking at bartender number three baby," Jaehyun boasts, and you're amused by the way he's so proud of it, Mark rolling his eyes. You look up at your boyfriend, incredulous.

"You guys...own a bar? Why didn't you tell me?" You're past the point of being angry, stupidly perhaps but after tonight you've realized that a lot of things stay hidden for good reason, as irked as it makes you. You're somewhat grateful that things are coming to light later than never.

"Yeah, we do. We own a few actually, they're not normal bars, of course. This ones Umbra, Yuta's." He looks a bit shameful, as if expecting you to be angry, or even sad. Deep down, maybe you should be, but in reality, you and Johnny have been so caught up in each other this past year, you understand how things have ended up this way.

"Can vampires even get drunk?" You ponder, and Taeyong shares a fleeting, humorous look with Doyoung, who smiles for the first time since you've met him. He looks like a completely different person, like that.

"Dude, yeah they can. It's kind of a vampire set back, imbedded in our DNA by whatever created us - after drinking a certain amount of blood we can get fuuuucked up." Mark explains with exaggerated hand motions, and you can feel Johnny sigh. You wish he weren't so abstinent about telling you all of this.

"It's a lot more than that." Taeyong cuts in, though your yawn has Johnny suddenly cupping your cheek, his tone gentle and soft. "Hey, there's a bed upstairs. Or, I can take you home, I understand if-" you yawn again, slumping yourself against him. Exhaustion is beginning to weigh you down.

"Shhh, I'm fine now. Wanna go upstairs." Your eyes are already closed and his large hands are quick to scoop you from the back of your knees, pulling you into his arms. You wrap yourself around his neck, breath against his throat.

"She's staying here tonight," one minute you're hearing the chatter of the rest of his brothers around you, and the next, silence is all you are able to perceive other than the low timbre of a pair of voices.

"listen I don't know if the house is secure, I wouldn't put it past Jongin to pull something. I don't want to leave her but-" Johnny sounds conflicted, the urgency in his voice perceptible even through the haze of the first stages of sleep.

"I'll watch over her. Jungwoo will be with me, Doyoung and the youngest can get everything repaired, there's enough of a mess to clean."

Your back meets plushness, so soft you're curling against it on instinct pleased to be met with a fluffy comforter, thick and warm.

"Listen I...I want to say thankyou, for what you've done. I'm only saying this because I could feel what you were feeling, and I know that it was genuine," you almost wonder if you're dreaming. You feel like you're eavesdropping on a conversation you're not supposed to hear, despite the fact that they're speaking in front of you.

"I'm not the most thrilled that the first human you've been even remotely generous towards, is the one I love or course. But I can tell she's safe, and comfortable with you. And that's what matters." There's a silence for a second.

"I can't pretend that I'm a changed creature over night, but I will say that she is somewhat pleasant to be around." You'd smile if you weren't already half asleep, faintly aware of the soft stroke to the back of your arm. Johnny.

"I could feel...her, too, you know. It's more than just seeing, she's not scared around you as I thought she would be," you wish you could the sleep that's consuming you, because this part of the weird dreamy haze has you a bit embarrassed, perplexed, even.

"Just keep her safe. Whatever she wants, that's what goes. I'm sure she has a lot of questions, and I'll be back in the morning to answer them."

This time, you're down for the count, a scene already beginning to unfold in your mind, the onset of a vibrant dream. Somewhere in the back of of your mind, your conscious tries to make sense of the picture, of what exactly it means.

Surely, your mind is playing tricks on you.

[boykingsw]

fell through the floor

buck/eddie, angst, 2.1k

Some nights are worse than others. 

Tonight, it seems, is no exception. 

Buck wakes up gasping, the cold air of the room rushing into his lungs only to be forced back out in a cough. He tries a few times, lying on his back, taking carefully measured breaths until he feels like he’s regained control. Only then does he sit up and take in the darkness that surrounds him. Glancing at his alarm clock, he blinks a few times to focus on the glowing numbers that read 3:04am.

He throws the covers away from his body and sets his feet down on the cold hardwood floor, letting the chill seep into his heels and toes and remind him where he is; at home, on dry land. No fiery explosions or huge waves. Just a dark, empty apartment in the middle of the night.

He sighs and rubs a hand over his face, stands, and drags himself to the bathroom. He leans on the sink for a moment, drumming his fingers against the porcelain, before switching on the tap and splashing water into his face. The small light plugged in beneath the mirror illuminates his body, and he stares as each droplet slowly trails down his cheeks, meeting at the base of his chin before falling onto his bare chest. He tries to keep his focus on that. Drive away any lingering thoughts that had come to him in his sleep. 

It doesn’t take long for them to rear their head again, and the cold water is quickly replaced with hot tears. He blinks them away, turns on the tap, and rinses them off. Does it again. And again. And again.

Eventually, it seems the tears forfeit the battle, and he’s left staring into his own blank, red rimmed eyes.

I’m fine, he tells himself, and pretends that it’s true.

He pushes himself off the basin, turning and stopping in the doorway to stare at his bed. He doesn’t see himself getting much more sleep tonight, so he heads for the stairs instead. Walks to the kitchen, crossing the room in his bare feet to grab a glass from the cupboard. 

He fills it. Raises it to his mouth in a trembling grip, but before he can take a sip, a car backfires in the street below his apartment, a loud bang coming in through the open window. The sound is harsh, and far too familiar. It bounces off each empty corner of the apartment; pierces through every wall of distraction that he’d put up between himself and the events of the evening.

The glass slips from his hand and shatters on the ground. He stares at it as the pieces fly across the floor, tries to watch as each tiny sliver spreads itself out across the room to keep his mind from reeling him back to the last call of his shift. It doesn’t work this time. The sounds dig into him, unburying every image he'd been trying to ignore.

His vision goes blurry. He blinks, a tear falls and bounces against the black tile of the floor.

He tries to stop it -looks around the room with blurry eyes and tries to grasp the ghosts of the people who often make it feel so warm- but the tears come anyway. He stumbles backwards, his back hitting the edge of the counter before he sinks down onto the floor, pulling his knees to his chest as the tears flow freely from his eyes. 

Out with them pours every image in his mind he'd been trying to ignore since he woke up, until all those memories are sitting right in front of him. Filling the happy, useful room with nothing but dread. 

He doesn't try to blink the tears away. Every time he closes his eyes, the pictures are more vivid. The darkness isn’t darkness -it’s bright flashing explosions; blood burning the inside of his throat; a huge blue wave washing over him -consuming him. 

It’s the barrel of a gun pointed right between his eyes.

It’s a ridiculous thing to set him off, he knows it. Of all the things that have happened to him in the last year and a half, this is the most mundane. He hadn't gotten hurt. A call went wrong. A man pulled out a gun. He didn’t shoot anything except the doorframe above Buck’s head. 

But there was a moment -the moment between the gunshot going off and the realisation that the bullet hadn’t hit him- where he couldn’t help but think, after everything, this is how I die? 

It was a paralyzing thought, and it pulled him back into every moment of his life that he’d been working tirelessly to move past. Placed him right back in the middle of them. Right back under that truck, right back on that pier. Every horrible thing that had ever happened to him replayed in the back of his mind like a slideshow, flashing before his eyes like some cliché movie trope. 

It’s happening again, and he desperately needs to get away from it. Buck grabs his phone off the floor from where it had fallen from his pocket. Takes a shuddery breath and stares up at the ceiling as the dial tone sounds in his ear, willing the tears to stop falling. He counts; Eddie picks up after only three rings. 

“Buck?” He sounds tired. Buck feels a tiny twinge of guilt, but it’s swallowed by everything else swimming around in his head. “It’s late. Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

He tries to speak, but the only sound that leaves his mouth is a quiet sob. 

“Buck?” He sounds fully awake now. "Talk to me. What’s going on?” 

“Eddie, I-” He chokes out. It doesn’t go any farther than that.

“Stay right where you are, okay? I’m coming to you.”

Buck tries to speak again; beg him not to hang up and leave him alone with his thoughts, but Eddie is gone before he gets the chance. And with nothing left to ground him in the present, the memories crawl right back under his skin.

He shuts his eyes and feels the searing pain in his leg; the weight of the truck on top of him; the heat of the orange flames licking at his feet.

He feels the blood fill his lungs and come sputtering out. Sees the wide-eyed looks of every party guest as they watch him collapse onto the grass. Hears a faint shout of somebody call 911! before he’s consumed by darkness. 

He feels the pressure of a huge wave slamming him back into the wall of the game stand. Feels the burn of salt water -cold, cold water, a contrast to the warm blood- filling his lungs. Feels a tiny hand slipping from his grasp, and the bone deep dread that comes with the realisation that the boy who had been in his arms just a few seconds earlier was nowhere to be seen. 

He’s finally pulled back to earlier this very evening, to the moment everything went sideways. 

It all plays on a loop, over and over and over again.

Hot explosion, blood in his lungs, a huge wave, a gun. Hot explosion, blood in his lungs, a huge wave -a presence by his side- hot explosion, blood in his lungs, a huge wave -a hand on his face- explosion, blood, wave -”Buck.”- explosion, blood, wave -”Buck!”

-Eddie. 

His face seems out of place. A very kind thing in a sea of ugliness.

But Eddie’s not supposed to be here. No, Eddie is supposed to be far, far away from all of this mess. Buck shakes his head. Tries to push Eddie away, but his arms feel very weak, and he can’t seem to find enough air in the room to breathe.

“Buck.” Eddie says, not moving an inch. He places both hands on Buck’s face. “Look at me.”

Buck shakes his head. Doesn’t want to look -to associate something so good with all the terrible things in his head. He tries to wrench himself from Eddie’s grasp, but Eddie doesn’t budge.

“Look around, Buck. You’re here. You’re right here in the kitchen. I don't know if your brain has convinced you that you're somewhere else, but you’re not. You're here, at home, with me. Can you focus on that?"

Buck blinks. Looks around the room, and tries to follow Eddie's advice. Catalogues everything he sees -the coffee mug he left on the counter this morning, no time to wash it before work. The bottle of wine from his dinner with Maddie a few nights ago, sitting on the table. The slow drip of water from the tap he hasn't had time to fix. 

He looks at Eddie, finally, and is met with wide, concerned eyes. He stares, blinks away each tear that obscures his view, and keeps his gaze there. 

“Just breathe. In and out." 

Buck swallows. Takes a deep breath in through his nose. It’s shaky, but it reaches his lungs this time.

Eddie nods. He tries again. And again. And again.

He keeps his eyes focused on Eddie’s. Takes note of the warm hands against his cheeks and the cool tile floor beneath him. He can smell the brand of soap that he used to mop the floor last week -It was lemon scented, he remembers that. It’s a funny thing to think about, right here as he falls to pieces in front of his best friend, but his brain focuses on it, along with every other sensation he can name, and it brings him back to the present.

“Eddie.”

“I’m here. Are you with me?”

He looks at Eddie for a moment, then nods. 

“Good.” Eddie’s eyes sweep over him, stopping at Buck’s hand, lying palm up beside him on the floor. “You’re hurt.”

He sniffles. “What? No, I-” He looks down at his hand. There’s a gash in his palm, blood smeared all over it. He doesn't know where it came from. “Oh." He stares. "I don’t- I don’t remember doing that.”

Eddie glances at the broken glass on the floor. “Must’ve cut yourself when you sat down. One second.” He stands, and Buck misses his warmth immediately. Eddie arrives back a moment later with a wet cloth, gauze, and a rolled up bandage in his hand. Crouching back down in front of Buck, he comments; “Good thing I know where you keep your first aid kit, huh?”

Buck tries to smile. He figures it comes out as more of a wince.

Eddie takes his hand, cleans and dresses the wound, and wraps the bandage around it gently. Buck watches. The small point of contact keeps him grounded in the moment. Eddie finishes and lays Buck’s hand down onto his knee, taking the uninjured one and squeezing. “Better,” he says. Buck’s not sure he feels it.

“I’m sorry,” Buck says, meeting Eddie’s eye after the silence stretches for too long. “I was doing better, I am doing better, I just-”

“Hey, these things take time. One setback doesn’t throw away all the progress you’ve made.”

Buck looks away, towards the window where the sound of the city is still coming in. “It kinda feels like it does.” He wipes the tears from his cheeks. Another small one escapes. He lets it fall. “It’s not even about what happened tonight, it’s just… everything it reminded me of.”

Eddie nods. “Lots of things can set us off.” 

“I just want to be over it. All of it.”

Eddie hums. “I get it. But there are some things, I’ve found, that you just have to learn to live with.”

Buck swallows, nods. 

Eddie stands, holding out a hand for Buck to take. 

“It’s late,” He says. “Let’s try and get some more sleep.”

Buck is struck with a realisation. “Chris-”

“Is at my aunt’s. Always is when I work a late shift.” Eddie reminds him.

“You don’t have to stay,” Buck says.

“I know.”

He does anyway. 

When Buck wakes up a few hours later, the sun is just starting to creep over the horizon. It comes in through the windows, painting the apartment in a much different light than it had appeared in the night before. He feels calmer, in the light of day. Lying in a warm bed, with a strong arm around him, keeping him in place. 

He takes it all in, and is reminded that some days are better than others too.

[whimperwoods]

Arms of the Enemy - D&D whump - 16b

This is part 16b! It could be 17, but I want the whole wound cleaning thing to be kind of of a piece.

There is now a masterpost, which can be found here.

Castor is a warlock, in service to the Great Old One and the Dark Emperor, in that order. Ed is a fighter, a knight and battle master in the service of the True King of Lumenea. They have always been enemies. Away from it all, they might be able to become something else. Maybe even friends.

(This time: Ed blushes. Castor makes a choice.)

tw: aftermath of torture, tw: mind reading, tw: captivity, tw: forced to entertain captor, tw: wound cleaning, tw: medical, tw: burns, tw: he doesn’t want his butt touched, in particular, but that’s where some of the injuries are that need tending, but it’s not sexy, but it still probably needs a warning?, tw: bone setting

taglist: @redwingedwhump, @fanastywhump, @insanitywishes @bluebadgerwhump,@burtlederp, @newandfiguringitout, @kawhump , @extrabitterbrain, @kixngiggles​

***************

It hadn’t been particularly embarrassing before, lying on his stomach like this, but as gentle as Castor’s hands were on his ass, Ed still hated the sensation of being touched somewhere so private and, even more, the knowledge that the water woman was watching, staring, giggling periodically.

He knew more of the welts across his buttocks and thighs were closed than the ones across his back, but it didn’t mean much when Castor made full contact with one of the open cuts and he had to stifle another noise of pain.

“I know,” Castor murmured softly, “I’m sorry. I’ve almost got all the straw out of the wounds, though. That’ll be the worst part for a while.”

“It’s an interesting problem,” the woman said, her voice still sounding vaguely satisfied. “Doesn’t happen when you live in the water.”

Ed’s blush darkened, the burning intensifying across his face, his ears, and his neck, all the way to the tops of his shoulders. It almost itched, and he wanted to hide his whole head at once, just tuck the damp blanket he was lying on all the way around himself and hide.

Castor was right about the straw - once the open cuts were free of dirt and detritus, the gentle motion of the damp cloth across his posterior got at least a little less agonizing, if not less embarrassing.

By the time Castor was helping him into a pair of clean smallclothes they’d found in with the wizard’s old belongings, it was enough of a relief to have his more sensitive parts shielded that he almost managed not to think about the fact that he was wearing second hand underthings.

Castor seemed to notice, his eyes lingering a little too long on his flushed face before he helped him back down again. Every time he thought he couldn’t blush harder, his skin seemed to find a way, getting ever hotter and itchier.

Castor pulled him into a hug and he went willingly, burying his face in Castor’s shoulder so he wouldn’t have to look either of them in the eye. He took the moment to breathe, to calm himself.

“You ready to keep going?” The advantage to talking aloud was that he could feel the vibrations of Castor’s voice humming against his burning cheek, and he wanted to say no, wanted to ask to stay there, to ask Castor to just keep talking to him, but that would just drag out the whole thing, just keep him under the strange woman’s eyes for longer.

“Yeah,” he whispered, “Sorry.”

He didn’t know what he was apologizing for, but Castor accepted it with a soft little hum and the woman giggled again, keeping the hot, itching blush in Ed’s cheeks that he didn’t seem to be able to ease.

*****

There was a gulf in the pit of Castor’s stomach as he helped Ed back to the ground and started working on his left leg. Somewhere inside, he knew himself to be a coward. Ed’s right knee was as swollen today as it had been yesterday, his ankle was still broken, his foot still a grotesque mass of broken-bone swelling and bloody nail beds, and Castor didn’t know how to face those things, didn’t know how to fix them, and was chicken enough to start with the other leg, with cuts and burns he knew what to do with.

Their captor was clearly growing bored, an entirely separate problem he didn’t have any good answer for, either. She was moving around a lot more, restless, and he couldn’t help worrying that in her restlessness she’d find the amulet hidden in the healer’s kit or rush them back to the underground lake before they were finished or poke at Ed’s wounds again.

The cuts, welts, and bruises along the backs of Ed’s thigh weren’t good, but they weren’t as bad as the burns marring his better foot and running up his calf.

As soon as the soap touched Ed’s burns, he tensed again, the effort of staying quiet raising a thin layer of sweat across his brow, even as he failed to hold back soft grunts of pain in spite of the effort.

That, at least, might be fixable. Sort of.

<<I hate to say this,>> he began, tentatively, <<But I think she’s getting bored. You might need to make a little more noise.>>

Another grunt escaped Ed. <<So you want for me to - agh - scream for her? No more sweetness?>>

He sounded tired, and Castor couldn’t get his head around the comment. Was Ed tired of sweetness? Was he not? Was he just - tired? That was probably fair, all things considered, but it was hard to know if the exhaustion was the main thing, or if it was covering up the old irritation from before.

<<I don’t mean to be dramatic about it, or make extra noise. I just mean don’t work so hard keeping quiet. Let her - fuck, Ed, I don’t know. I just don’t like how restless she is.>>

He didn’t get an answer right away, but then he washed across one of the burns again, and Ed let out a yelp, the tension in his stomach relaxing as he stopped fighting quite so hard for silence. Castor felt his own muscles relaxing with him, even as a wave of guilt washed over him.

The yelps seemed to get the woman’s attention again, and she leaned into Castor’s back again, pressing against the bruises and reminding him with a twinge that they were there, but at least that meant she wasn’t focused on anything else, like the hidden amulet.

<<Thank you,>> he told Ed, <<And I’m sorry.>>

*****

Letting go of himself, letting out the little yelps and shouts his body wanted to make as Castor cleaned his wounds, felt strange, but as it went on, Ed adjusted, relaxed further, sagged into the ground and let the soft, now mostly dry blanket cushion him.

There was still something about it that kept the heat stoked in his cheeks, that ached through the base of his throat, and he found that he could only stand it if he kept his eyes locked on Castor’s face or the too-blue sky above them, away from the woman’s intently focused eyes.

Then Castor switched to his other leg, and any thought of silence, of embarrassment, of anything left him.

Castor pressed fingers against his swollen knee, touching it directly instead of trying to avoid it, and Ed cried out before he could stop himself, his back arching against the pain.

“No, hold still!” Castor half-shouted. “I need to know how bad it is.”

Ed wanted to answer, wanted to tell him off, to tell him how bad it was, but all that made it out of his throat was another full-bodied shout, one that left him breathless and gasping.

“Castor don’t-” he panted, “Don’t, please, I can’t-”

“Your, umm. Your kneecap is definitely in pieces.”

“Please, Castor-”

Ed made it up to his elbows, looking up at the warlock and meeting his eyes, more noticably blue than usual with the skin around them going faintly pale.

“I know,” Castor said, still blanching, “But if I can’t push the pieces closer together and bind them that way, it’ll never heal at all.”

“You can’t, Castor, I-”

“I have to.”

Castor’s hands were resting lightly around his leg, below the knee, and Ed could feel a faint trembling in them.

The woman’s grin was all teeth, her face no longer doing a particularly good impression of a human. “Oh dear. That is a problem, isn’t it?”

Castor broke eye contact with Ed, and even before the warlock spoke, Ed found his body reacting, letting out a soft, despairing moan.

“I’m going to need an extra set of hands, ma’am.”

<<Don’t let her touch me. Please Castor, don’t let her touch me.>>

<<I can’t fix your ankle. I already know that. But this one - this one I might be able to help. I can’t just - Ed I have to.>>

<<You don’t.>>

<<I do.>>

Ed cried softly, his eyes locked back into Castor’s again, but he could see the resolve building in Castor’s eyes, could see any hope of keeping the woman’s hands off of him fading, and this time he looked away first, closing his eyes and twisting his face away.

“Do it,” he said softly, not even sure, anymore, whether agreeing was a deal with the devil or, if it was, who was the devil.

The woman’s hands were not gentle, her fingers following behind Castor’s, pressing the two halves of his bone back together, her sharp nails digging into his flesh where it hurt the most. He screamed, his back arching again as his voice cracked, shooting impossibly high.

“I know,” Castor said, moving fast now, “I know. I’m moving as fast as I can.”

What Castor built both was and wasn’t a splint, strange and complicated and holding his kneecap in place from multiple angles, and when he pulled the bandages tight enough to dig into the swollen area around the joint, Ed screamed again, his voice trailing away to nothing and leaving a lingering hoarseness behind.

It was a relief when the woman’s hands let go, when the bandages were the only thing holding his knee too tight, but it still hurt, oh gods it still hurt, and he could feel his pulse thrumming through the knee, pounding harder at the base of his throat than it had before.

When Castor pressed gently against his ankle to find the fractures, the world went black.

*****

It was a relief to feel Ed drop into unconsciousness under his hands, because his ankle - gods, Castor didn’t know how to make heads or tails of his ankle.

“Do you need me to hold that in place, too?” The water woman’s voice was sweet and sickening, making his stomach crawl.

“No,” he said, his voice coming out unexpectedly hollow, “There’s no point. I can’t fix this one. I’m not even sure I fixed the other one, but with this one -” he sighed. “Just - I’m gonna bandage up his toes, but then I-”

Her pale green eyes were unreadable. He sighed, bowing his head just slightly as he knelt beside Ed, and looking down at her bare, half-webbed feet instead. “Please let me stay up here with him until he comes to again, ma’am. I - I don’t want him to wake up in the dark.”

Her sharp-nailed hand ran suddenly through his hair and he barely held back a flinch. “Hmm, sweet indeed. Yes, my friends will like that story, I think. Are you going to hold him? Cuddle up again? I hear humans like kissing. Or are you only kittens, after all?”

A blush colored Castor’s cheeks, and he knew two things all at once. One was that he’d never manage to carry Ed away from here, amulet or no amulet. Not with the woman still so - whatever it was that she was. The other was that there were only two ways to handle this, and he knew which one he could accept. He could either hurt Ed more, or he could give something of himself up choosing tenderness instead. He could hide away, keep himself hidden and let her be interested in Ed, or-

He blushed more deeply. “I want to wash his hair, ma’am. I - I always thought that felt good, having my hair washed, and I -” he bit his lip, blushing more deeply as he looked back up at her. If he was going to take the attention, he needed to take it fully. “It’s my fault, ma’am. I could have stopped this. Some of this. Maybe. And I didn’t. I knew, and I -”

The best lies were ones you couldn’t be sure were lies at all. The words came out as a hoarse whisper, his throat thickening up. “I didn’t stop this, and now I owe him,” he said, “Please, let me pay him back. He - he deserves something kind. He’s been through so much.”

Her head cocked to the side, and he knew it had worked.

“You can wash mine until he wakes up, then,” she said. “It does sound interesting.”

[monstersandmaw]

Male vampire x male character - Part Three (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

This is going to be a four-parter, folks! And here's 3866 words of Part Three for you. Angst ahoy, but you know me, ok, so trust me. Here we meet Alec's little brother, and you'll find out why Sebastien was so jumpy and weird about the Twayblade name.

Part One, Part Two

Alec’s ‘one night stand’ with Sebastien turned into a whole month of of ‘one-night-stands’, and culminated in Sebastien asking him to dinner the following weekend - a pattern which repeated itself every weekend after that.

Sure, the sex was probably the most incredible sex that Alec had ever experienced in his entire life, but what he came to enjoy even more was the time they spent over meals and cups of tea in the intervening time, talking about everything from history to politics to video games and books and everything else besides. Sebastien talked about literature a lot, and Alec sketched him and illustrated his conversations while he spoke.

“You could really make something of yourself with talent like that,” Sebastien had murmured once as Alec had doodled a quick rendition of the Victory of Samothrace on the back of a coffee shop receipt one afternoon in the park.

“Meh,” he shrugged without looking up. “I’d like to, but I’ve got a steady job now, you know? I’m not going to throw it all away just because some gallery might take my work and I might make something of a name for myself, you know?”

Sebastien sighed. “Talent is such an overused word, and great art is rarely based on raw talent alone, but with your dedication over the years, you’ve really honed what natural abilities you have into something exceptional, Alec. I think you should make a go of it at least.”

Alec had flushed, and Sebastien had been distracted by the rising colour his cheeks long enough to abandon that train of thought in favour of kissing him silly on a park bench, and Alec hadn’t much minded.

At an Iranian restaurant near Alec’s place one Friday, four weeks after Halloween, Sebastien leaned on his elbow and popped a fragrant and decadent zoolbia into his mouth, and Alec watched, oddly fixated by the way his fingers held the little fried treat. His eyes, dark and warm and inviting, blinked slowly and he offered Alec a slow-dawning smile that stole his breath.

“We should go to the museum again,” Alec he blurted, thinking back three days when they’d spent their lunchtime meandering around the Italian Renaissance gallery together.

“Mmm?” he asked, licking his fingers in a way that made Alec’s jeans tighten and his throat close.

“Yeah,” he croaked. “I mean, I know you’re not sick of me waxing endlessly about quattrocento art just yet…” he said, sipping his delicious cup of tea and trying not to choke on it as Sebastien’s ankle skimmed up his leg beneath the table.

“No,” Sebastien admitted. “You’re right. I’m not.”

With the bill paid by Sebastien this time, after Alec had bought them lunch the previous day, the two of them left the cosy warmth of the restaurant and stepped out into a bitter November night. “Oh fuck it’s cold,” Alec swore immediately, drawing up the collar of his coat.

“You want to head home?” Sebastien asked, a hand on the small of his back.

Unconsciously, Alec leaned into it and smiled up at him. They’d not yet been to Alec’s apartment, and he found himself more and more reluctant to let Sebastien in now that he’d seen the stunning penthouse that he called home. “If you’re sure? I think your wardrobe has more square footage than my entire place though…”

“Alec,” he purred, taking Alec’s hand in his and squeezing his fingers. “I —”

“—You’re freezing,” he commented, interrupting whatever Sebastien had been about to say.

“I don't tend to run hot,” he conceded, “But neither do I feel the cold much. I’d like to see your home, and you have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

He leaned in close and kissed the junction of Alec’s jaw and neck for a moment, his lips lingering, tongue just lapping at his skin and sending shivers down Alec’s whole body, shorting out his brain for a heartbeat or six. Sebastien raked his teeth over Alec’s pounding pulse point and he went still, frozen in a paroxysm of pleasure and, oddly, a strange thrill of fear he couldn’t quite place. Instead of pulling away when he recovered himself, however, he tilted his head further to one side, offering himself to Sebastien’s mouth, and the other man moaned decadently, deepening his attentions.

Sebastien’s hands found Alec’s belt and he tugged him sharply closer so that their hips met. Alec tried not to grind himself against Sebastien — they were still on a public street for goodness’ sake — but desire was washing through him in pulsing waves and it was becoming harder and harder to think rationally. That wasn’t the only thing that was becoming hard either, and he let out a harsh grunt before forcing himself to step back with a sheepish grin.

When he looked up at Sebastien, he found that the slightly taller man had frozen and was breathing hard, eyes closed, lips pursed together as though restraining himself from something.

“You ok?”

“Fine,” Sebastien hissed, still not opening his eyes.

Alec frowned. Sebastien looked like he was in pain of all things. “You sure? You look —”

“I’m fine!” he snapped through a clenched jaw. “Let’s go. You’re right. It is cold.”

The short walk to Alec’s apartment passed in tense silence, with Sebastien keeping his eyes locked downwards on the pavement, though he did deign to hold Alec’s hand. He couldn’t help wondering if perhaps he’d pushed things too far in public, given how proper Sebastien tended to be, but then again, Sebastien was the one who had deepened the gesture by practically mauling at his neck for three minutes straight back then.

Alec’s apartment building wasn’t fancy at all, and it certainly didn’t have a doorman, and once they’d stumbled in through the hallway with the busted light fitting in the ceiling, Alec smashed the elevator call button only to find it dull and non-responsive. “Damn,” he cursed. “Out of order again. Stairs?”

“If needs be,” Sebastien said with a gracious smile.

“This would never happen over at Buckingham Palace,” he quipped back, and Sebastien cracked a smile at Alec’s silly nickname for his apartment block.

“Exercise will shake all that dinner down,” he conceded.

Alec twitched his eyebrows in agreement and held the door open to the stairwell for him. As he passed by in the confined space, Sebastien stopped and leaned in, taking Alec’s jaw in his cool hands and kissing him gently, reverently, on the lips.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I was rude back then.”

Alec shrugged, feeling awkward at the sheer, heartfelt tenderness in the gesture.

“I got carried away. It won’t happen again.”

“I like it when you’re rougher with me,” he smirked. “You should know that after a month of fucking me senseless.”

As if Alec’s words had hit him like a sledgehammer to the nuts, Sebastien rolled his eyes and grimaced, but he did laugh. “You do seem to like a firm hand, granted,” he said. “Let’s get upstairs shall we? Before I take you right here, and I’m not sure how sanitary this situation is…”

Alec needed no more encouragement, and he didn’t even get to give Sebastien the fleeting, one-minute tour of his tiny flat before the man was on him, kissing him blind and backing him into a wall hard enough to knock the wind from him. Sebastien came alive in moments like that, when he could kiss him and lavish attention on Alec, and the latter was not about to stop him.

It wasn’t long before Sebastien’s wandering lips found Alec’s neck again, and as Alec gasped, fists balled into Sebastien’s shirt collar, he felt the sharp prick of teeth quickly followed by the generous suck of a love bite in the making. His knees went weak and he nearly staggered as a huge rush of endorphins swam through his mind, leaving him limp and wobbly all over. Well, almost everywhere.

“I want you,” he gasped, and Sebastien lost no time in locating the tiny bedroom and tossing him onto the bed, stripping them both with startlingly attractive efficiency. Alec barely managed to yank a bottle of lube and a box of condoms from his top drawer before Sebastien was spreading his legs and laving his tongue up over the curve of his balls.

“Oh fuck me,” Alec exclaimed as Sebastien’s slick finger slid into him and he hissed at the intrusion. A moment later, he was lying with his head flung back into the pillows while Sebastien slid a second inside him and began to do just that with his fingers until Alec was finally ready — and more than desperate — for Sebastien’s cock.

Sebastien had a beautiful body, all lean, corded muscle and slender lines, and as he got more and more aroused, his deep olive skin seemed to glow almost supernaturally. He was perfection incarnate. Bernini couldn’t have carved him, even if he’d been given a lifetime to try. Alec was no Bernini but he’d still love to sculpt him.

Sebastien chuckled sweetly and crooked his finger, sending a jolt of searing pleasure through Alec so hard his vision whited out for a moment and his back arched. “I’m flattered,” Sebastien murmured, placing open-mouthed, messy kisses down Alec’s leg as he spontaneously bent that knee up.

“Shit, I said that out loud…” he laughed, still vague and giddy with the sensations sparking under his skin.

“Mmm,” he smiled, lowering his face to Alec’s inner thigh and kissing fervently all up his leg to the crease of his thigh and hips before smoothing his leg back down onto the bed. His breath fanned out across Alec’s sensitive skin and he quivered and bucked, causing Sebastien’s curled finger to brush his prostate again and he yelled.

“Please…”

Moments later, Sebastien entered him at last and stilled, allowing him to adjust to the new intrusion.

When he fucked him like this, Sebastien seemed to take on a new energy, becoming something almost more primal, and Alec lived for it. The expression on his face as he closed his eyes and simply enjoyed the heat of Alec’s body closing around him, taking him, drawing him in, was something he would never get used to, no matter how many times it happened. He was certain of it.

“You’re so tight,” Sebastien grunted, easily shifting Alec’s hips up a degree or two and adjusting his own angle so that he could thrust into his prostrate with every stroke.

Alec’s words failed him as immense pleasure ripped through him, building and building. “You’re gonna make me come if you keep that up,” he barely managed to grunt as Sebastien somehow picked up the pace and began to pound into him with renewed vigour. The man seemed utterly devoted to Alec’s pleasure, as if it was the only thing driving him.

With an utterly inhuman snarl, Sebastien opened his mouth and whispered, “Come for me.”

The sheer weight of command in his voice tore through Alec and he came instantly, untouched, painting his torso with ropes of his release and wrenching Sebastien’s own orgasm from him by sheer force a second after.

Sebastien curled forwards with a hiss, hips spasming as he released, and his lips found Alec’s neck again, and then his collarbone. In the daze of his own peak, Alec thought he saw a flash of red in Sebastien’s eyes again, but he was out of sight too quickly for him to believe what he’d seen. Instead, he found Sebastien kissing his hammering pulse while he finished. Finally going still, Sebastien slumped atop him, breathing hard, his white-blond hair spilling everywhere and tickling Alec’s stubble. He was too tired to care though.

When he woke, hours later, he realised groggily that it must be the middle of the night. Sebastien was curled up beside him, obviously having found the tiny bathroom to clean up, and he was now spread out beside him on his small, lumpy mattress as if this were a palace and he a prince, not some tiny, shitty apartment in the rough bit of town.

Something about the way Sebastien slept still freaked Alec the fuck out. He didn’t seem to be breathing, and when he had laid his palm on Sebastien’s chest on their first night together, the man had gasped and jolted awake like the living dead, sucking in air like he’d been underwater for hours. This time, he refrained from touching him, and instead stared at his inhuman beauty. There wasn’t a mark or scar or freckle on him, and his darkly tanned body spread out over the white sheets like a bronze sculpture arranged in a gallery for the adoration of thousands. And yet he chose Alec to be his only supplicant. Something lurched in his chest and he smiled bashfully, blushing, although there was no one to witness it.

Awake, Sebastien looked maybe thirty, thirty five years old, but asleep, he looked far younger; closer to eighteen or nineteen perhaps, with an innocence around his white-lashed eyes and the natural downward curl of his beautiful lips.

Unable to resist touching him completely, Alec kissed him and rolled over, drawing the duvet up around his ears and sinking back into a deep, dreamless sleep. His whole body felt heavy and satiated in a way he’d never experienced before with anyone. Something clenched in his heart; this felt right somehow.

But nothing is fated to last forever, is it?

Alec stirred groggily, unwillingly, the next morning, becoming aware of a rapid-fire knocking on the apartment door. Grunting, he kicked back the covers and fished for a pair of boxers and a shirt from the floor beside the bed. Sebastien slept on, apparently not having moved at all since the previous evening. Did he have sleep apnoea or something? It was something he’d have to bring up after he’d sorted whatever this was. It wasn’t natural for a man to sleep like that.

Like the dead.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming,” he grumbled, stumbling across the apartment and peering though the peephole in the door. Twitching back in surprise, he opened it. “Theo?”

His little brother’s bright, sunny grin beamed back at him. “Hey bro,” he chuckled jovially, stepping in as if he owned the place and shooting him a cheeky look back over his shoulder. “Brunch?”

“Brunch?” Alec frowned. “Since when do you do ‘brunch’? And since when is it brunchtime anyway?” He glanced at the clock in the kitchen and his eyebrows rose. It was well past eleven o’clock.

“Late night, I see,” Theo snickered, eyeing Sebastien’s shirt which was still on the floor outside the bedroom door, currently ajar from Alec’s hasty exit.

“Shut up.”

Theo’s grin doubled and his blue eyes glittered. Like Alec, he had the unusual combination of dark hair and blue eyes, and like Alec he could be described as ‘roguish’ at times. Now though, it bordered on downright Puckish. Looking not his actual twenty-one years but somewhere closer to sixteen, Theo shook his head.

“Brother mine, when will you —” he snorted but then stopped and his expression fell, shattering from playful to horrified in a heartbeat before he rapidly attempted to cover it by turning towards the bedroom. “Is he still here?” he whispered.

“Yeah, so keep the jokes to a minimum, would you?” Alec snarled. “What did you want anyway?”

But Theo had changed completely. Gone was the ebullient Labrador puppy and instead a tense, alert, wary young man stood before him.

“What the fuck’s wrong?” Alec hissed, heartbeat ticking faster like an over-wound clock.

And Theo spun and then froze as the door to the bedroom opened and Sebastien appeared on the threshold.

Theo’s lip curled into an ugly snarl and Sebastien regraded him steadily, apparently unfazed by the unexpected hostility.

“The younger Twayblade, I assume,” he said with such ice in his usually warm tone that it shook Alec into stunned silence. “Well, this is unexpected.”

“You’re shitting me,” Theo whispered, horror thickening his tone.

Alec blinked and looked from Sebastien to his little brother and back again. Never in all his years of dating men had he felt so uneasy around a family member. “What’s going on…?” he finally croaked.

“That’s what — who — you’re sleeping with?” Theo practically spat out.

Cold, defensive vitriol bubbled up inside him and he might actually have lunged for his brother had Sebastien not crossed the room in three rapid strides and laid a gentle hand on his forearm. “I take my leave,” he said quickly.

“Not so fast, fang-face,” Theo sneered and Sebastien froze. “Get away from my brother.”

“Or what?” Sebastien said in the quietest and steadiest of voices.

“What the fuck is going on!” Alec blurted into the tense silence that followed Sebastien’s taunt.

The other two blinked, and Sebastien sighed. He met Alec’s eye as he asked, “You really didn’t know at all, did you?”

“Know what?” Alec snapped, rage rolling through him. “Do you two know each other or something? What am I missing here?”

“I think this is a family matter that you need to work out between you,” Sebastien said, voice still tinged with frost. “Alec, you know where to reach me if you decide to continue what we’ve shared this past month.” And with that, he turned and walked from the apartment.

“Wait, stop!” Alec yelled after him, but he was gone down the stairwell and Theo was at his side, tugging him back into the apartment. “Fucking explain yourself!” he snapped, rounding on his brother.

“You’d… better sit down.”

“No. Tell me what’s going on. Right now.”

Theo stared him down, meeting blazing sapphire stare with blazing sapphire stare. “Sit. Down.”

The tone of his voice shocked Alec into doing exactly that, and he sank numbly down onto the saggy old couch in the living room without a word.

What followed next was like something from a movie.

“The Twayblades are an ancient family of monster hunters,” Theo said gently. “Father’s not in the military. Well, he is, but it’s not a normal unit or anything. That’s just a cover.”

“And mother?” he asked mechanically, the information-dump that Theo had just heaped upon him not sinking in, but floating like scum on the surface of his churning mind.

“She’s one too. And Ellie.”

“Ellie hunts… monsters?” he asked. “Like… what… the Boogeyman? Bigfoot?” Incredulity made his tone flippant, but something in the calm sincerity of his brother’s eyes told him it was true, no matter how stupid it sounded.

“Dracula…?” Theo added darkly.

“Dracula.” And then the penny dropped. “Wait. ‘Fang-face’. You’re saying you think my boyfriend is a vampire?”

Theo levelled him with a look from where he was leaning against the windowsill, arms folded over his chest in a manner eerily reminiscent of his big brother.

Now as Alec regarded him, he saw the harsh young man that this little kid had become. The puppy fat had melted into a steel jaw and a hard gaze, and his body seemed coiled for action at any moment. He had the body of a soldier, Alec realised with plunging horror. He knew Theo worked out — he was apparently a personal trainer and nutritional coach for celebrities in London, but even that seemed to have been a lie after what he’d just learned. Apparently the Twayblades actually hunted monsters — he and their parents and their older sister Ellie. Alec and Angie had been left out because they were apparently not ‘hunter material’ whatever that meant. Maybe it meant he was a monster fucker instead. He almost laughed.

“Theo, come on… I can’t believe any of this,” Alec said, leaning back into the sofa and pressing the heels of his palms to his aching eyeballs. All he’d wanted to do this morning was to wake up and maybe have Sebastien fuck him into the mattress a few times before breakfast until he was wrung out and softly buzzing like they had every weekend for the last month.

Now he was having some bizarre fairytale forced at him and he was supposed to believe it like it was some kind of sick joke. But he did believe it, and that was what scared him most of all. It wasn’t a joke. Theo showed him videos his father and he had captured on some of their ‘hunts’, exterminating a poltergeist here and eradicating a revenant there, and in the end Theo phoned their father on speaker, opening without preamble, “Dad, Alec’s dating a vampire.”

“Do you have proof?” was their father’s instant, chilling response. No ‘I'm sorry, what did you say, son?’ or ‘What’s all this nonsense?’. No. He went straight to the heart of it. With a stake.

“Just walked past the sucker leaving the flat.”

“Ancient?”

“No, thank goodness. Maybe just a century at most?”

“Can you eliminate him without alerting Alec?” their father asked, at which point Alec’s heart cracked.

He leapt to his feet and blurted, “Fucking what?”

After a heartbeat of silence, their father sighed. “Unfortunate. I had hoped to keep you and Angela out of this.”

“You’re telling me it’s all real?”  he asked, goggling at Theo who held the phone out on speaker between them like it was a live grenade. “You’re all insane!”

“Tell me something, son,” his father said flatly. “Have his eyes ever flared red during a moment of passion? Does he seem to fixate on your neck? Do you find yourself willing to do as he wishes without question?”

Theo interjected quickly, “He’s not compelled. His eyes are clear.”

“Well, that’s something at least,” their father scoffed. “Theo, you know what you have to do. Kill it.”

“‘It’?” Alec shot, eyes bulging, and Theo did have the grace to cringe. “Kill it? You’re going to kill him? He’s a lecturer at the university, Theo. You can’t just fucking kill him?!”

“He might be under the guild rules…” Theo said. “He might be a blood bank user, not a live-feeder… I’ll look into it first.”

Alec’s knees turned to water but he kept himself upright through sheer force of will.

“Fine. But don’t hesitate. And don’t make concessions just because Alec might be compromised.”

Theo nodded and hung up without farewell. “Look, Alec,” he grimaced. “I’m… I’m sorry, ok? I didn’t come here to —”

“— to kill my boyfriend?” he growled, taking a step towards his little brother. To his credit, Theo did actually take half a step back in the face of Alec’s confused, hurt, betrayed ire, holding his hand palm-up.

“No. I came here to see if you wanted to grab lunch, but —”

“—Get out.”

“What?”

“Get out!” he roared, jabbing his index finger at the door and pulling out his phone.

Theo surprised him by nodding and leaving, shutting the door behind him with a click and leaving Alec standing in the centre of the living room, chest heaving, phone in hand, ears ringing.

As his brother’s footsteps disappeared down the stairwell, he unlocked his phone and dialled Sebastien’s number.

Three rings in, Sebastien answered.

“It it true?” Alec asked without preamble.

After a long inhale, Sebastien answered. “…Yes.”

__

Sorry for the cliffie!! More soon, but it’ll hit Patreon first, then Tumblr. Don’t let me forget, either!

Part Four

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I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me  know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

__

| Masterlist | Patreon | Ko-fi | Writing Commissions |

[marvel-ousfairy]

“Flesh eating plants, are you kidding me???” NALU Oneshot

Author’s Note: Ummm... So I don’t normally post my own writings, but I wrote this literally years ago and figured it was about time I posted it. Better late then never, right? *Chuckles nervously* Anyways, there are a few plot holes and things but I’m honestly too lazy to change it sooo, here you go! Let me know what y’all think. (Also I appologize in advance for any wierd formatting issues. I blame Tumblr.)

Warnings: Fighting, angst with a fluffy ending, killer plants? idk what else to put haha. If you read it and think there are any other warnings I should add, please please let me know.

Pairing(s): NaLu

_____

“Open, Gate of the Golden Bull: Taurus!” Lucy Heartfilia shouted, summoning the celestial spirit to her side.

“Mooo! It’s nice to see you again, Miss Luuucy.” Her celestial spirit, Taurus, drawled as the golden light of Lucy’s magic dissipated.

A large crash echoed through the forest near Magnolia as Lucy dove to avoid getting hit by a thick plant root, only a gaping hole left of the earth where she previously stood.

“Not the time,” Lucy panted before struggling to her feet again. “I need you to get in there and snap those vines!” she directed.

Celestial Wizard Lucy Heartfilia, her partner Fire Dragon Slayer Natsu Dragneel, and their cat companion, Happy, had taken a simple job helping out a local farmer. The request had asked for a few wizards to come assist in the extermination of the vermin rampaging through the owner’s crops.

“Stop pouting,” she said as the trio walked through town towards the agricultural district. “At least you get to beat something up.” She smiled, glancing around at the fruit and vegetable stalls lining the streets.

The pink haired wizard crossed his arms before letting out an offended huff. “I’m a dragon slayer, not an exterminator.” He whined.

The blonde let out a giggle, ignoring his petulant child act. Her laughter didn’t last long, however. Upon their arrival at the little farm, the trio soon realized that things weren’t as they appeared. Much to Lucy’s horror and Natsu’s delight, the vermin that needed bashing turned out to be full-fledged, plant-based monsters.

“’Let’s do it’ I said. ‘This will be easy’ I said. How does a Venus Flytrap even grow this large?” Lucy grumbled as she jumped over another stream of murderous plant roots. Finally finding solid ground, she pointed Taurus towards the twisted nether of roots and stems that kept the frightening flora grounded. Meanwhile, Natsu busied himself with torching the other five or so reanimated plants that littered the forests edge.

“Fire Dragon: Roar!” He let out a manic laugh as his flames transformed an entire line of trees into glittering torches, burning friend and foe indiscriminately.  

“Natsu, watch where you’re aiming,” Lucy scolded, letting loose a disgruntled shout as she once again narrowly missed a blow to the side via killer plants. The self-proclaimed farmer, apparently, was a wizard himself who specialized in foreign herbs with magical properties. Their current foes were the result of his latest creations gone very wrong.

“We already owe a great deal in repair costs as it is. The master will kill us if we burn down another building,” she reminded him, hand on her hip.

“Yeah, Yeah.” Natsu shrugged as he incinerated yet another row of trees and crops.  “Stop with your naggin’ already. We’ll be fi– Hey Lucy, watch out!” The dragon slayer let out a roar as Lucy whipped around. A faint gasp swept past her lips as a verdant blur crossed her vision. Pain ricocheted down her left side as a stray vine from the Flytrap knocked her to the ground, tangling with her legs and whipping her towards the Venus’ awaiting jaws.

“Argh,” Natsu screamed, face contorted in anger. “Fire Dragon: Wing Attack!” The vines that dug at her skin, slowly encroaching upon her torso, were suddenly engulfed in flame and burnt to a crisp. She yelped as Natsu’s flames left her stranded in the open air. With nothing left to catch her fall, she plummeted back down to the rigid ground, her head smacking against the dirt with a harsh crack. A muffled yowl came from beneath her and she rolled over to find a disgruntled Happy scowling back at her.

“You alright, Luce?” Natsu questioned, finishing off the last of the nasty creatures.

“I’m the one in pain,” Happy cried, indignantly. “Lucy squashed me with her fat butt!”

“WATCH IT, CAT!” she screeched at the little blue exceed, the pain from her fall quickly washed into the foreground.

Natsu cackled, causing the celestial spirit mage to turn her glare on him. Noticing the change in atmosphere, he yelped as a certain red-haired wizard came to mind.

“Scary,” he whined. Lucy’s scowl deepened before gifting him with another one of her signature Lucy Kicks.

“Humph,” she muttered, smiling in satisfaction. “Serves you right.”

_____

Later, at the Fairy Tail guildhall, the pair found themselves curled around the bar. Mira wiped down the counters, glancing at the two while she worked. Lucy sat on Natsu’s left with reequip mage Erza Scarlet on his right. Gajeel, Levy, and Pantherlily were located at a table behind him, while Gray was doing his best to avoid an overly exuberant Juvia. Happy had disappeared soon after their arrival back at the guild, dreams of fish and a particular white feline dancing in his head. An overall jubilant air had settled on the guild as members had returned from their missions to settle in for the day.

Lucy leaned against the bar, head spinning, with a strawberry concoction clutched between her palms. A dull ache had settled into her bones since their mission earlier, winding around her mind like a snake. A slight burning sensation danced along her side as a pair of onyx eyes watched her with intensity.

“I’m fine,” she said with a huff, not bothering to turn towards the dragon slayer gazing at her worriedly.

“Lucy, I–”

“Really, Natsu, I’m alright.”

Natsu grumbled, unconvinced, as he finished off the plate of food Mira had set before him. He knew Lucy was lying, but he also knew that she could be just as pigheaded as him. She had been acting strange ever since their return from their earlier expedition. Despite her claims otherwise, he could tell something was up.

Lucy stood up abruptly, letting out a heavy sigh, before turning towards Natsu once more. Ignoring the stars that threatened to consume her vision, she forced a wide smile onto her lips. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll be okay. I think I’m just gonna head home and get some rest. The fight today really took it out of me. Thanks for the drink, Mira.”

She gave one more wave to the white-haired woman before making her way towards the entrance. Before he could make any move to stop Lucy’s departure, Erza placed an armor clad hand on his shoulder. “She’ll be fine, Natsu,” the red-haired warrior assured him. “She can take care of herself.”

He simply nodded, giving Lucy another intense stare before promptly getting knocked off of his barstool by a half-naked Gray. Mira giggled as Natsu let out an enraged scream. Apparently, Juvia had finally caught up to her beloved Gray.  

“What the heck was that for, you pervert?”  Natsu yelled as he quickly shifted into battle-mode, fists blazing with fire.

“Who you callin’ pervert, flame for brains?” Gray challenged.

Soon after, a fight broke out between the two, eventually expanding into a guild-wide brawl after another slice of Erza’s strawberry cake was destroyed. Lucy, who had been watching from the towering guild doors, shook her head. She let out a yelp as a chair smashed against the wall to her left, before finally disappearing out the door and into the streets of Magnolia.  

 Despite a slight limp in her step and pain in her side, the walk home wasn’t as bad as she’d first expected it to be. It wasn’t long before she was weaving her way past the ferrymen and stumbling into her apartment with a heavy sigh.

“Home at last,” she hummed to herself. She stretched out her limbs, cringing as her ankle buckled a bit in pain, before making her way toward the bathroom. “Maybe a shower will help wash off the pain from today,” she mused, ridding herself of her blood-stained clothes. With steam flooding the little room and the water temperature set on high, she stepped carefully into the scalding water. A shaky breath escaped her lips, but her mind continued to spin at a rapid fire pace. Groaning in frustration, she tried for another calming breath. Despite her chance to finally relax a bit, she couldn’t manage to quiet her mind. It had already been a long day, now made even longer by the pain that constricted her mind and body. A glance towards her numerous bruises sent a frustrated sigh past her lips, before her features contorted in confusion. A second glance down at her body caused her gaze to quickly slip from confusion to fear. Thin green lines painted swirls and complex designs across her torso, leaving angry red marks in their wake. The vines, she thought. They don’t just feed off human flesh… “They steal magic power!” She shouted, mentally kicking herself for forgetting the farmer’s warnings. He’d told them that this was a possibility.

Her hands shook as she slowly grew more and more hysterical, tearing frantically at the small vines cutting at her body. Just as she made some headway clearing the thin vines, however, the dizziness from before threatened to overtake her. She reached for her keys, only to find them rendered useless. My magic power is too far gone, she cursed. “Loke, Virgo, someone please!” She cried out desperately. They can’t hear me, she sobbed. A single step towards the bathroom door sent her vision shaking. By two steps, the light in the room began to dance. By the third, Lucy could feel herself losing her will to stand. By the forth, she found herself hitting the ground as the ceiling grew further and further away. “Natsu…” She whispered as vines tangle around her mouth. Her vision slipped away as she soon felt herself get swallowed whole by a cocoon of roots and vines, before she finally lost consciousness altogether.

______

Back at the guild hall, things had finally settled down. Luckily, the aftermath of the brawl had been minimal. A few burnt spots, some broken tables and chairs, and a few missing pillars. The building, by some miracle, still stood proudly in the heart of town.

“Where’s Lucy?” Natsu asked, having finally cooled down from his fight with Gray.

“Oh. Lucy? She went home a little bit ago.” Mira said, smiling sweetly from behind the bar.

“You even watched her go, you idiot.” Gray said with a laugh. Natsu shot the Ice mage a scowl.

“He loooooves her.” Happy drawled from his place next to Charle on the bar top.

Natsu reddened in embarrassment, brushing salmon strands out of his face. The dragon slayer stiffened as a ball of anxiety settled into his stomach. His nose twitched as he took in the stale undertones in the air, confirming some unknown fears. He could be wrong, but he knew Lucy. He knew her scent and how it changed depending on her mood. Right now, the thick smell of fear curdled his blood. Something was wrong.  

With one last vengeful fireball to Gray’s face, he ran off towards Lucy’s apartment with the blue exceed following close behind. Fellow mages and townsfolk cried out in protest as he pushed by them, but Natsu didn’t notice. Blood pumped in his ears, matching his racing footsteps as he hurtled himself down the stone streets. As Lucy’s apartment came into view he pushed his legs faster, using his fire to boost himself through her window in a single bound.

Once safely inside, the first thing he noticed was the silence. Despite the distinct sound of a shower in the background, the stillness hung like a thick fog in the air, suffocating him.  Steam seeped from beneath the bathroom door as he flung it open to reveal a horrific jungle. Vines grew up and off the walls, roots digging out of cracks in the floor.  Leafy plants twisted in midair like worms burrowing through the dirt, dragging curious fingers along his face and down his legs. “Lucy!” Natsu shouted, digging through twists and snarls in the vines. “Lucy!” No answer. Frantic, he set his body ablaze, burning down every vine he could get his hands on. The twisted nether of green squealed and screeched, cutting at his arms and face as every vine soon turned to ash. Finally, there was nothing left but a pale sleeping beauty curled up on the scorched and broken tile.

“Lucy…” his voice was barely a whisper as he pulled the blonde into his arms, swaddling her in a nearby towel. Ashen vines were like cobwebs arching across her ghostly pale skin, her fingers tinged blue as if frost bitten. Even her hair seemed somehow drained of life, as the last of her magical energy seemed to fall dangerously low.

“Nat-su,” a shuddering gasp swept past her grey, cracked lips. “Help m-me… S-so c-cold…” Her words came out in little puffs as her eyes fluttered open, straining to gaze up at his face.

“Lucy. Lucy, look at me. I – I’m here. I’m here. I’ve got you.” He hugged her into his chest, his tears melting into sobs as the smell of strawberries and vanilla wrapped around him. Desperately, he looked around the small apartment before his eyes settled on his blue companion, standing wide-eyed at the door.

“Get Wendy!” He cried out to the little exceed.

“Natsu?” His little eyes rounded with horror.

“NOW, HAPPY!”

“A-Aye, sir!” Happy jumped up and gave him a determined nod before soaring back out the open window from whence they’d come.

A shaky hand grasped onto his scarf, pulling his gaze back down to Lucy’s shaking form.  She curled like a sunflower into his warmth before letting out a shuttering gasp.

“Don’t leave me,” she wheezed. Every note grated against his ears, her normally melodic voice cracked and broken. Regret settled like a stone in his stomach as he cradled her closer to his chest.    “Never,” he whispered.

A soft kiss warmed her clammy skin, flowering across her cheek, as exhaustion finally pulled her into a deep, restless sleep.

______

Warm hands wrapped around her as the smell of wood smoke and cinnamon swirled through the air. She knew that scent. It meant safety, warmth. It meant home.

A slow smile stretched across her lips as her eyes fluttered open to see a chiseled chest and strong arms holding her close. A quick blink shot her eyes upward, only for them to be met with slightly parted lips. As her eyes roamed over the curved planes of his jaw, the slightly parted lips morphed gradually until she was met with a wide, toothy grin. One more shift left her breathless, as she tumbled deep into the depths of his obsidian gaze.

“Natsu –” she stammered.

“Welcome back.” He pulled her closer, resting his forehead onto hers before finally releasing a heavy sigh of relief.

All the pain that had previously ensnared her was gone without a trace. The telltale signs of the guildhall infirmary told her that she had Wendy’s sky magic to thank for that. The warmth that flooded her senses, however, was thanks to her one and only favorite dragon slayer. Although, she doubted it was his naturally higher body temperature that caused warmth to flood her cheeks. Curious eyes peered up at him as his eyes danced behind hooded eyelids. Her very presence seemed to melt him, soften his normally sharp edges.

“Natsu?” She questioned as his face lowered towards hers, their noses brushing together.

“Hmm?” he hummed a response, not quite focusing on her words.

“I –” she began, her words causing their lips to brush. Fire raced through her veins at the sudden touch. A gasp escaped her as their lips finally connected, the sound muffled by the gentle caress of his lips on hers. She felt the fire that raced through him swirling just beneath the skin, held back by an unseen floodgate. He nipped playfully at her bottom lip as their lips danced together in perfect harmony. Abandoning its previous position around her legs, his right hand slid up her side to cup her face while his left hand snaked around her waist, tugging her closer still to his chest. Trails of fire blazed across her skin wherever his fingers danced, sending a shiver of delight down her spine. Her delicate fingers dug into his silky salmon locks as all of their raw emotions were poured out, left open and vulnerable for the other to see. Their kiss grew desperate as the spicy taste of cinnamon filled her senses, causing her toes to curl and her fingers to tug harder at his cotton candy locks. With one last shuddering breath Natsu pulled away, studying her rosy cheeks and her chocolaty brown eyes alight with joy and complete contentment. A deep, throaty chuckle escaped his lips, vibrating against her chest, as he took in her dopey smile. Swollen red lips downturned into a pout, enticing him into another sweet kiss upon her lips, before her dopey grin returned with renewed vigor and her laughter intertwined with his. Lucy gazed sleepily up at Natsu as he mindlessly spun her golden locks through his fingers, a gentle lullaby to her tired mind.

“I –” she began slowly.

“She loooooves him!” came a teasing voice, followed by fits of laughter and giggles. Lucy’s eyes widened, taking in the audience staring at them from the doorway. Spotting the culprit for the interruption, her eyes narrowed on a certain blue exceed hidden in the crowd.

“SHUT IT, CAT!” She screeched as Natsu’s chuckles rolled into cackles, his body shaking as his face twisted with laughter. Lucy burrowed into his scaly white scarf, groans mixing with laughter as she took in a beautiful, terrifying truth. Happy was right about her and Natsu. She really did looooove him, and the adoration he showered down upon her told the mage that he really did looooove her, too.

[yawnjunie]

so you’re the artsy type, huh ❦ cbg (1)

Genre: fluff, university au, crack (get ready for a bad take on comedy)

Pairing: broke artist!reader x art sponsor!beomgyu

Word count: 7k

Summary: After spending way too much time chasing after an impossible dream, you weren’t too sure you wanted to continue with your lifelong passion— art. One eventful day at the museum steered you onto a road full of twists and turns, and you unexpectedly found yourself wading deeper into murky water with your new employer.

A/N: a huge thank you to @noiaeu​ and @halohyuka​ for being my beta readers! anyways here is a long overdue fic that was a 20k+ word monstrosity but is now a series. happy reading!

— blu and struz

You tapped your feet absentmindedly against the grimy tiles of the cheap burger chain as you waited. The atmosphere that usually felt bustling and welcoming now felt stuffy as your stomach churned each passing second. The waitress walked past your seat as she served the customers behind you, the fragrant aroma of the burgers on her tray prompting a vicious growl from your stomach. Sighing, you checked the time on your phone: 8:52pm. Scrolling past the inactive conversations with your “friends” (you didn’t really know what to call them because you tried to ask them out and got rejected; you’d kept those conversations anyway because you were too attached to them), you sent a quick message to a number you wish you didn’t need to text today. Without a second thought, you picked up your belongings and left the small burger shop.

Thank goodness, you knew just the perfect place to drown your sorrows in.

You called for the nearest taxi to the small food shop by the name of Mrs. Lee’s Mandu House.

“What happened this time?” A stout lady with an apron asked, peeking her head out of the kitchen, setting down a large bowl of dumplings in front of you. She made her way to the condiments shelf. “Kimchi?”

“Yes, please. I got stood up again.” You grumbled, stuffing a large dumpling into your mouth ravenously. Then, speaking through mouthfuls of food, you continued. “Maybe I should just stop trying altogether. Change my major to agricultural studies and move to the countryside while I’m at it.”

Food had never tasted so good! The savory filling of the dumplings literally melted in your mouth, and soon the blaring sound of the old AC and the sound of the kdrama from the TV had just blended into the background. It was nice not having to listen to anything.

“Aw, don’t say that.” The woman replied as she set down a pot of kimchi and a plate of kimbap on your table. The friendly ahjumma took her seat across from you and set down a bag of melon seeds. “Trust me, it’s going to be hard. You’re just in your first year of college! You’ll get there someday.” Then, she continued on to tell you about other people she knew who had it harder than you, but all that faded into the background noise, along with the AC and the TV. That sentence was the only thing you heard, and although there weren’t any lemons in the soup, everything that you ate suddenly started tasting sour. Sometimes, even the best food cannot drown out the bitterest words.

You’ll get there someday.

Foomp. You flopped onto your bed with a small grunt as your back met the soft mattress. Throwing off your glasses to the side, you massaged your eyeballs and then looked at the ceiling. It was grey. The same grey that you saw before going to sleep at night, the very same grey that greeted you when you awoke in the morning to another unexciting day. The more you stared at it, the more the popcorn ceiling looked just like a grey mass with a few monotone specks here and there.

You were always told to look to the future and stop dwelling on the past. And that was a long shot, given that all you saw in front of you was a blurry ceiling.

What is this feeling? You let yourself sink a little deeper into your mattress, lazily shifting your gaze to the left, where you saw your huge Gabriel Garcia Marquez poster taped to the wall. Solitude. Looking back, you supposed that was how you’d been living your life thus far.

Doing jobs here and there, never really achieving anything big.

Single as hell.

It was days like this that made you feel not quite sad, but just really demotivated. A reminiscent smile flickered on your face as you turned your head to stare at the wall, unto which the light that peeked through the overcast sky cast a faint shadow. Words like “lonely” and “outcast” didn’t mean a thing to you. The fact of the matter was, you didn’t have anyone, and the universe sure didn’t put an effort to sugarcoat that fact.

Rolling lazily to the edge of the bed, you finally sat yourself up. You walked over to your desk, pulled out the wooden chair, and turned on the lamp. Then, you took a moment to tie up your hair before looking down at what was lying under the spotlight of the lamp.

Amidst the blizzard of eraser shavings and the familiar scent of freshly shaved wood stood the lead outline of a girl. Shoulder-length hair up in a high ponytail, a soft, rounded nose, chapped lips, and blank, unsuspecting eyes with dark circles hanging below them. Looks like she’s never seen a day of joy in her life. Looking into the mirror standing to the left on your desk, a very tired girl with a dark face stared right back. Dusting off the eraser shavings into the trash bin next to the desk, you commended yourself for the superb self-portrait. 

At the insistence of the tightness in your right wrist and the crick in your neck, you set the pencil down and extended your arms to stretch your back. When your eyes fell upon the drawing once more, a wave of disappointment washed you back onto the shore of frustration. Yet another addition to the ever-growing pile of wasted white paper. A part of you argued that art was not a waste, which was true enough. Art made by you, however, was a different story.

What happened to me? All that time, effort, and energy never really amounted to much. After all, you’d only seen the world in black and white. It was as if someone took a giant paint tube and squirted an awful lot of grey paint everywhere.

After all, who’d ever heard of an artist who couldn’t tell orange from blue?

–––

Even the song playing in the background mocked you with every word.

♪ I see trees of green,

red roses too ♪

♪ I see them bloom,

for me and you ♪

♪ and I think to myself

what a wonderful world ♪

You glanced around tiredly as you saw your classmate’s boyfriend carry a stack of canvases for them. For someone who, one: saw the world in grey, and two: had never gone on a date, the world was anything but wonderful. You felt your eyelids drooping despite the hard, wooden stool jutting into your buttcheeks. Drowsily, you turned your gaze to your art pieces. Noticing the other students coming in to set up their pieces, you straightened up your back and set your bag down on the stool. You took a deep breath and swung your arms nervously in an attempt to garner a sense of purpose and hope. You got this! You whispered encouraging phrases to yourself under your breath, smiling at the students who bothered to greet you first.

Today was your first time participating in a student exhibition. Although it was quite unconventional for first year students to be showcasing their work in the advanced exhibition, your teacher had been nice enough to make a spot for you. Well, it was more like you practically begging her to consider you, because of your current family situation. You terribly did not want to sound like that broke college student™, but sometimes, a little bit of courage to fight against the stone cold reality was useful. And of course, Ms. Kim, being the benevolent soul she was, granted you special rights to participate.

This year, the exhibition was being held in the empty room at the Museum of Modern Art. Attendance of the students was optional, but a good handful of them came, hoping to get a professional review, or even a sponsor for their art. The moment you walked in, you held your breath—the entire room was empty, all six surfaces painted white. It was the brightest room you’d ever been in, yet the temperature seemed to drop 100 degrees.

It’s fine. This time, things will be different, you told yourself in an attempt to shake off the dread that settled in the pit of your stomach. Fifth time’s the charm, after all.

It may have been your first time participating in a college exhibition, but you’d participated in countless art competitions as a kid. You were like a wildfire, and there was no award for a competition you entered that you didn’t win. Now, it felt like you were back to base one. After all, who has that easy of a life? Those days of your easy childhood life were long gone.

You tried not to think much as you sat uncomfortably next to your paintings. For the first hour or so, you made a point to look each passing person in the eye, a wide smile plastered on your face. The second hour, the corners of your mouth started to twitch beyond your control. By the third hour, you found yourself staring at people’s shoes more often than their faces. As the minutes ticked by, you kept your eyes trained intently on the floor, mouth pressed firmly closed. Glancing around the room, you tried to take your mind off of your worries. But you couldn’t help but be envious of your classmates, who were getting noticed by the professional guests.

That’s okay, there’s always next time. Guess today just wasn’t my day.

It was beginning to feel like no day was your day. A warm sensation pricked at the corners of your eyes when a voice pulled you out of your thoughts. 

“Ma’am, excuse me.” A woman in a worn out blue outfit approached your stand. 

Being as desperate as you were, you hastily wiped away your tears from all the yawning and slapped a smile on your face, mustering up the peppiest voice you could manage. “Hey! How can I help you? As you can see, I work exclusively in grayscale, and I mostly do portrai–” “Miss–” the lady interrupted, “it’s closing time. Could you please pack your things?”

Upon processing the sight of the tattered mop in her hand, realization hit you like a truck, and not just any ordinary truck— it was a Belaz 75710 filled with 496 tons of rocks and sharp glass. That was a fun fact you stumbled upon while scrolling on Instagram; the fact that you somehow retained this useless information made you silently curse yourself. Your smile was frozen in place as you gave a series of curt nods. “Oh. Okay, I’ll start packing.”

The kind woman nodded back and started to walk away, but stopped and turned just a few steps away. “Don’t feel too down. Sometimes, life just doesn’t go the way you want it to. It’ll get better, trust me.”

“Yeah.” You replied coldly, not bothering to mask your sadness. Attempting to muster a small smile in gratitude for her kind words, you gave her a thumbs up before she left the room. It kind of hurt, getting pity from the janitor. But in a way, you felt a little comforted. At least you knew you weren’t the only person struggling. Robotically, you placed the canvases onto your utility cart one by one, then started folding up the easels. When the janitor’s footsteps had faded away, the only thing disrupting the silence was the rain. 

Plip. Plop. With the accompaniment of the beating of the raindrops on the rooftop that rang in your ear like a dull symphony, it only seemed natural for your tears to fall. And this time, there was nobody to interfere with your sob session. 

And on that afternoon, in the empty art hall, you cried your heart out. There was only one question that gnawed at the back of your mind relentlessly, like a famished dog on a bone twice its size. Should I just give up on art? The thought of it just made you cry even harder. Art was your everything.

From the moment you’d grasped the thin body of the paintbrush on your doljabi, you’d fallen in love with art. Throughout your childhood, you’d spent your days drawing. From drawing on plain computer paper to painting entire murals on your bedroom walls - you did it all. Everyone was sure you’d become an artist when you grew up. You’d even kept a money jar by your bed, which you’d used to store money for new art supplies and eventually, art school. You were happy. You had a good eye for color. 

Thunder crashed outside as that memory resurfaced in your mind. Back then, you drew like there was no tomorrow when you could see colors. Until the world became dark when your colors, your precious colors were taken away. And the world remained dark ever since. They all pitied you, sending a sigh your way in condolence for your loss. You didn’t need or want their pity, of course. All you’d ever wanted was an answer, a reason to why they left your eyes. 

You wanted to blame it on something, but what could you do? Every night you prayed, praying desperately for your colors back. But every morning, the ceiling remained grey. So did the sky when you walked to work. Pushing your shabby cart with a loose wheel down the hallway full of eccentric art pieces, you didn’t even spare a glance at them. Well, other than to avoid being noticed by the few people who were still in the museum, to which you hid your swollen face in the opposite direction and choked back your sobs. Well, what can you do now, y/n? It’s not your first time participating in an exhibition anyway. There’s probably someone out there having it harder than you, so suck it up! Everything will be better once you get back home… 

Just when you were nearing the entrance of the museum, you heard a different pair of footsteps from your own behind you.

“Hey.” You jumped out of your skin at the tap on your left shoulder. Caught by surprise, you found yourself stumbling backwards into your cart. You lost your footing and down crashed your rear end. By attempting to hold onto the cart handle for balance, your art pieces now seemed to fall in slow motion, the cart suspended in the air as your mouth hung open in horror. You reached out to grab it, but unfortunately, you were an aching 2 centimeters short of saving your artwork. The cart toppled on top of your canvases with a comical crack, wooden splinters flying everywhere. The empty utility cart squealed defeatedly as it toppled to its side, a loose wheel still spinning.

You felt your head spin even faster, as you grew increasingly frustrated by your inability to comprehend what had just happened. Holy shit.

Strewn across the floor, battered and broken, lay hours upon hours of your time, your hard-earned money, along with the last strains of your hope of becoming an artist. F*ck!

Eyes wide and mouth agape, you turned to face the perpetrator of the tragedy. 

This is the part where he apologizes and promises to make it up to me, then gives me his contact info and we go on a date and he falls for me and we live happily ever after. Or so you hoped, you thought. The thought was so ridiculous that you could have burst out into laughter if it hadn’t been for the fact that the fruit of your blood, sweat, and tears was now a bunch of broken wood and torn cotton on the floor. F you and your last brain cell, y/n. Get yourself together and snap out of it. You were convinced that you were so sleep deprived from your K-drama binging session this morning at 4am that you’d convinced yourself that you were living the next episode.

Chances were low that the two of you would get together and live happily ever from an offense like this, but even so, he would have to compensate for the damages somehow. Now that you came back to reality, you realized that you couldn’t even make out what the guy in front of you looked like. “Okay, but what if he’s like, your next patron or something.” You don’t know if you muttered that out loud, but your odd behavior was really annoying you today. Shut up, it's not like he's Song Kang! Stop it! Nevertheless, you bet on the Balenciaga slides that he was wearing that he would pull out a business card the next moment.

You stared into the boy’s eyes expectantly and he met your gaze. You felt your pulse quicken as he opened his mouth to speak, eagerly awaiting your compensation. Hello hello, my next patron. This is the moment that marks my upgrade to a better life.

“I am so, so sorry about this.”

“You should be.”

As he spoke, the boy pulled his cap lower and threw on his hood. “Not just about me breaking your paintings, but also this.” Dammit, what have I gotten myself into?

And then he bolted.

🏃 💨

“Wha– hey! Where do you think you’re going?!”

He slammed his body against the glass door and ran into the rain while you followed in close pursuit. However, after a few wobbly steps, it occurred to you that you weren’t exactly dressed for the occasion, so you took off your heels and continued the hunt barefoot. 

Still, even under normal circumstances, you weren’t much of a track star. Wearing a blazer with suit pants and no shoes wasn’t helping your chances either, and the weather didn’t seem to plan on making things any easier.

The two of you ran through the heavy rain like cat and mouse. Clenching your teeth and your fists, you chased after the boy. He ran about two blocks before you caught up to him. As your calves grew sore, you considered hurling one of your heels at him.

The boy slowed down for a couple of seconds, looking around frantically. Mr. Kim.....! I told you to wait for me out here—!

Heaving a sigh, he turned around and began to run in another direction. And although he'd hate to admit it, today was one of the days where he had no choice but to admit that his choice of footwear today was a fatal flaw.

Somehow, despite the odds against you, you weren’t the one who ate the pavement. The boy tripped over the curb and slammed into the sidewalk, bellyflopping straight into a gargantuan puddle. Those Balenciagas did not help him run through the rain very well. You laughed in triumph and squatted next to his almost-lifeless body. 

“Gotchu now, you jer–” 

Boom! The world went white for a second, illuminated by the blinding clap of lightning. In an instant, the downpour increased tenfold, the raindrops now feeling like bullets against your skin. 

“Okay, maybe this isn’t the best place to have a conversation.” 

–––

The two of you trudged through the rain—or, more accurately— you dragged the boy through the rain, your grip on his hoodie sleeve iron-tight. When you finally reached your car, you opened the passenger door and he went in obediently. From an outsider’s point of view, you might’ve been mistaken as an undercover cop. In fact, you were sure feeling like one as you apprehended the criminal.

You went around to the back and opened up the trunk, where after rifling through months' worth of empty bottles, fabric bags for shopping, and a variety of other car junk, you finally found your stash of somewhat clean clothes. After careful consideration, you chucked a worn hoodie and the swimming shorts you’d worn to the beach last year over the seat. Just in case, you also tossed your first-aid kit over. You threw your heels in and swapped them for a pair of nylon flip flops before slamming the trunk closed. 

You went back to the passenger’s side and opened the door. Taking in the figure of the drenched and bleeding boy, you kind of felt sorry for him. Which was stupid, considering he had just wrecked your life’s work and made a run for it. You tilted your head back and sighed, trying to sort your thoughts out. 

With all of your best art pieces now reduced to splinters, it was a cold, hard fact that you weren’t going to get a sponsor. Besides, even before they’d been smashed into smithereens, nobody had been willing to give you a chance. The probability of you finding a sponsorship was like the graph of the height of a ball thrown from a cliff at sea level, or the number √-1. It was not just in the negatives, but it was also imaginary.

Taking a sharp inhale, you talked as quickly as you could. “Listen. I’m going to go get what’s left of my art from the gallery. Just change your clothes and patch yourself up, then you can leave.” You paused to dig out a few crumpled dollars from your wallet, which you promptly threw at him. 

“Here, take this to get a taxi. I don’t know how far you live, but that’s all I have. Don’t get me wrong– I still think you’re a massive schmuck. And there’s nothing you can do to fix the damage you’ve caused.” Despite your best effort to remain composed, your voice cracked a little at the end. You stopped talking before you were to break out into tears again.

Without waiting to hear what the douchebag had to say, you slammed the door closed and strode through the rain back to the gallery, where your pieces still lay broken on the ground where you’d left them. A part of you was hoping that maybe, by some magic or miracle, the whole thing had been a dream, and nothing really happened. 

But reality was as cold as stone, and you were powerless to change it. So, as you always did when confronted with the unchangeable, you picked yourself up and carried on, struggling against the current. 

By the time you wheeled the broken canvases back to your car, the boy was long gone, all traces of his presence vanished except for the dampness of the left side passenger seat. You buckled on your seatbelt and tuned into your favorite radio station, then sped off into the summer storm. The storm, your artwork, it was all so out of the blue– well, in your case, grey.

The situation on the freeway was like a stuffy nose: irritated and congested. In fact, it would’ve been faster to moonwalk down the road. To make matters even worse, instead of music, the radio station was streaming ad after ad. Is this even legal? Exasperatedly, you tuned into a different station, then another one, but to no avail; all of them were on ad break. 

It was frustrating enough that the gallery was a complete flop, not to mention that your best art was demolished in a hit and run and that you were sitting soaking wet on a leather seat stuck in the middle of traffic. Now, even the radio had turned against you. You shut it off and sat in silence.

Thump. You sighed and leaned your head back against the seat, willing the migraine that was building up in your head to f*ck off. After craning your head to check the backseat one more time, to your vexation, you found that the asshat hadn’t even bothered to close the first aid kit.

Muttering obscenities under your breath, you reached for the kit, cracking your inflexible spine 4 times in the process. You rummaged through its contents, straightening them out, counting how many were left, and you were about to slam the lid closed when you saw the note. 

XXX-XXX-XXXX

“Well, gee, that’s REAL helpful.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes at the ten numbers scrawled on the note. Your half a brain cell told you to quit being stupid and toss that note out the window.

The rest of your stupid self told you to call it. I mean, why not? You cursed yourself for how your brain worked– or rather, didn’t work– sometimes.

You licked your lips in brief contemplation before punching in the numbers in. The person on the other end picked up immediately. 

“Hello, welcome to Papa John’s Pi–”

You hurled your phone into the backseats and ripped the note up, throwing the scraps into the air like confetti before continuing the wearisome ride down through the rain. 

–––

It took an eternity, but you made it back to your apartment, where you promptly crashed onto the couch. As per usual, you spent the rest of your waking hours scrolling through baking videos, even though you had neither the ingredients nor the time to be making any of the confections. At around 8pm, exhausted from crying and the events of the day, you dozed off without having a bite of the frozen pizza that’d just finished baking in the oven.

Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt! Your dreamless slumber was disturbed by the vibration of a string of text notifications and the glow that lit up the dark ceiling. Still half-asleep, you blindly felt around for your phone and attempted to read the message through bleary eyes.

It was from an unknown number.

Rubbing your eyes to clear out the nasty gunk, you sat up and read the message again, this time with clearer vision. 

[XXX-XXX-XXXX] Hello, sorry for ruining your paintings today. I will make it up to you.

[XXX-XXX-XXXX] Thanks for bothering to call, let’s meet at this address to talk about your compensation. My parents can’t know that I did this so it would be great if you could keep this a secret :(

What the f*ck. You muttered under your breath, eyes half shut. Did I call anyone? In your half-asleep state, you didn’t bother to recall. For a second, you considered blocking the number. But just in case this was just one of your dumbass friends who changed their number, you decided to give that person a reply.

[You] hello? is this papa john’s?? i would like a cheese pizza

[XXX-XXX-XXXX] oh sorry the voicemail was a prank for someone else

[XXX-XXX-XXXX] i’m the guy from the art museum earlier, remember

[You] okay why do you have my number

[XXX-XXX-XXXX] because you called me

[You] right. okay, what do you want

[You] unless you want to pay me back for all those damages back there, no i am not interested in anything else sry i’m a very busy person you know

You hesitated a second before pressing the send button. You’d just sent a lie; in fact, you weren’t really that busy. Apart from your part time job at the boba shop, you were actually quite free most of the time. During the summer, at least. In fact, your screen time had gone up by 42%, your daily average now totaling to a whopping 12 hours. After a minute or so of silence, you threw your head back onto your pillow and let out a loud sigh of relief. Peace at last! It also made you quite happy that the person who texted you was in the least, not some weird scammer. 

Ping! You celebrated too soon. Reaching for your phone groggily, you read the new message.

[XXX-XXX-XXXX] okay then i was going to ask if you were free tomorrow

Am I being asked out? You squinted at your bright phone screen in the dark. You might have been nearsighted, but you weren’t illiterate in pick-up lines.

[XXX-XXX-XXXX] i want to return the clothes you lent me

[You] it’s fine, you can keep that

Oh good, he was talking about the clothes, not anything else. Your millisecond of relief ended quickly when he sent another message.

[XXX-XXX-XXXX] oh also it would be great if we could meet up anyway? i want to talk to you about something that i had been meaning to say for a while

Oh, god. I knew it wasn’t just about the clothes. Lonely as you were, you would shoot yourself in the foot if you got into any relationship without landing a stable job or having any money. Scoffing amusedly, you stared at the screen as he continued to type. But dating someone like this? Never in a million years. Turning over to your other side, you thought about the many ways you could reject him.

[You] no sorry :(

[XXX-XXX-XXXX] we should set a date at the cannoli restaurant to talk about your compensation costs. i’m extremely sorry for ruining your beautiful artwork, and i know that my apologies will do nothing to change your current situation. since this is my fault, i’m willing to pay any amount you request (and i’ll pay to the best of my capabilities)... i’m assuming $50,000 would be enough to cover the costs for most of the damage? if monetary compensation doesn’t work for you, we can discuss other forms of compensation as well.

[You] i know it may not seem like it but i’m actually caught up in too much work to have time for dating anyone. you see, it’s just that i have lots of work on the side so i can’t really spare time at the moment. please don’t take this personally haha i’m sure you’ll find someone,,, like i don’t know how to say this but yeah…..you don’t wanna be w someone like me, it’s me not you

Huh? Just as you sent your message, another message popped up before yours. And if your life had a background narration, this very moment would have been “and in that moment he knew. He fvcked up.” 

Fml.

With just one single message, you perhaps have ruined the only god-given opportunity to turn your life around ever. He’d just offered you money to cover the costs of your broken paintings... now that you thought about it, he could even be your patron! You couldn’t even get a patron even if you went out of your way to look for one on Craigslist, pestered Ms. Kim for any news from the Art Teacher’s Association, or even begged random people on the street in hopes one out of the million people would be willing to promote your art. Now, someone was asking to compensate you with tons of money, and you’d just rejected him in the most embarrassing way possible. 

[You] oh shoot

[You] i mean wrong chat, uh can you please stay on hold, i will get back to your compensation offer, yeah i will see you at the restaurant sometime thanks

XXX-XXX-XXXX is typing…

You did not bother to see what he had to say. Hurtling your phone onto your carpet, you let out a guttural scream of “I AM SUCH A DUMB@$$$” before pulling the strings on your hoodie tightly. And for the second time that day, you cried.

———

Leaving behind the upsetting events from a couple of days ago, you listlessly shuffled through the entrance. It was Saturday morning, and that meant groceries. The local Asian market was one of your favorite places to be; breathing in the familiar blend of spices that hung in the air was a cathartic feeling. The corners of your lips were turned slightly upwards as you bent to grab a basket.

First stop was the meat section, where the bugged-out eyes of dead fish followed you as you walked down the aisle. Cooking raw animal flesh wasn't really your thing, so you simply picked up a package of pre-cooked chicken and went on your way.

Next came the produce section where you felt up all the tomatoes, only bagging the ones that felt the right amount of firm and soft. You also added a pack of bok choy and mushrooms, perfect for cooking up a lazy soup.

Now that you were nearing the end of your expedition, it was time to head into the best part of the store: the snack aisle. Sometimes, when you were feeling more down than usual, you would blow the whole sum of your weekly grocery savings on off-brand shrimp chips and chocolate banana Pocky. One by one, you were doing all the things your mom had told you not to do when you moved out, from coating the entirety of your insides with nothing but sodium and sugar to shifting your sleep schedule by 15 hours. 

What was next, the-no-dating-boys-until-you’ve-gotten-your-Master’s-and-have-a-7-figure-job rule? You scoffed and rolled your eyes. Even if your stomach was totally trashed and your sleep schedule was nonexistent, you would never let yourself fall that far.

As you stepped foot into the chips aisle, you beheld the holy grail. From Hello Panda to rice crackers, wasabi peas to Yan Yan sticks complete with a chocolate dip, cream wafers to dried seaweed, you were in a sea of temptation. Being that broke college student™, you just gulped and kept walking. I can just feast on these goodies with my eyes.

Your initial plan had been to just walk through the aisles to admire and drool over snacks you knew you couldn’t afford, but you were stopped in your tracks when you reached the instant noodles section. 

At the end of the aisle, the shelf was bare except for a single lone pack. Even from a distance, you recognized it, all right; there was no mistaking the outline of your favorite instant ramen brand. 신라면. More like 神라면 (it’s more than just spicy noodles— it’s noodles made by the gods) you thought, eyes already tightly clutching at the packaging from 5 feet away.

From many a sleepless night of binge-watching third-rate rom-com dramas (though you cringed thinking back on it, this was an integral phase of your dark “past”), you knew where this was going–– but you weren’t going to sit around and let yourself fall into some overused trope. You gripped your basket tight as you swiftly made your way over to the shelf, just about setting a world record for speedwalking with a basket.

Sure enough, if you had been one second slower, you would’ve been ensnared in a sticky situation. Just as you were snatching up your prey like the pterodactyl you were, another figure was rounding the corner. Another broke college student™, it seemed, judging by the state of their hoodie, which was pulled over their messy hair, the strings tied in a bow to make sure the hood wouldn’t fall. Even though their face was concealed by their hood, you could see their reaction as they connected the dots from the bare shelf to the ramen pack in your hand.

“Hey–” they started, reaching towards you, but you promptly dropped the pack into your basket, spun on your heel, and noped out of the aisle before you could be confronted. You felt sorry because you could sympathize with their situation, but you were in no place to be kind to others. Not in this dog-eat-dog world. To survive, you’d have to stay on top of the food chain.

You were about to fall in line when you remembered that you were all out of Sriracha sauce. You could deal with giving up your Pocky and shrimp chips as long as you had your favorite condiment in stock; no matter how down you were, scrambled eggs with a heaping squirt of Sriracha always took you up to Cloud Nine. If you were going to leave something behind, it would never be the Sriracha sauce.

After grabbing a bottle from the condiment aisle, you scanned the checkout desks for the shortest line. Luckily, a new checkout desk had just opened on the left, so you scampered over and placed your basket onto the counter. The clerk was a kind-looking old woman, but was surprisingly agile for her age. As you waited for her to bag the large span of items that belonged to the grandpa in front of you, you opened up your phone to check your budget. You eyed the message app with two unread messages temptingly before going into your bank app. This was a lucky trip~ thankfully ramen isn’t too expensive. Even if it wasn’t on my grocery list, a few cents won’t make too much a difference. I think I can spare enough to get a Pocky next time.

At long last, the grandpa shuffled away with his cart filled with some veggies, a thick stack of newspapers, and an unusually large stash of rice crackers. While the clerk scanned and bagged your items, you continued to fiddle with your phone until she cleared her throat. 

“Would you like a single receipt, or two separate ones? Because there’s a divider between your items.”

“Excuse me?” “You and your boyfriend. By the way, you guys look really cute together, especially with your hoodies~ are you on a date?”

You spun around only to come face to face with the broke college kid from the ramen aisle. Well, that’s awkward. The cashier must have been blind or deaf (or both) because you didn’t even interact with that boy. You stole glances of the customer through your peripheral vision, trying to see what he looked like. Hmm, do I know him? He looked uncannily familiar. Just then, another realization dawned on you. A terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad one. Your expression quickly changed from one of confusion to one of pure shock.

Surprise, surprise. It was the douche from the art gallery. And he was wearing your old hoodie.

“I-I don’t know him.” Before he could open his mouth to say anything, you quickly looked away, feigning ignorance. Unfortunately for you, the old clerk had seen much in her day and your little ruse wasn’t going to slip past her that easily. 

“From the flushed look on your face and the stammer in your voice, I’m pretty sure you do. And I’m sure he would agree, wouldn’t you, lover boy~?”  

And… cue to the horrified look on lover boy’s face. The conflict that was playing out in his mind showed on his face; he knew that if he answered this wrong, he would be facing your wrath.

“Uh, well, the thing is…” He shot you a nervous glance, but your features were stone cold. At a total loss for what to say, the boy just trailed off and turned his eyes to his basket. Following his gaze, you looked over his items and immediately recoiled in disgust. 

Not a single leafy green (grey) in sight, no meat, no rice, not even one of the food groups necessary to sustain life. Strawberry ice cream mochi, Taiyaki, strawberry Melona bars, Choco Pies, strawberry Hi-Chew, strawberry Chocorooms, strawberry Pocky–– it seemed that strawberry was a recurring theme among his groceries.

Even though the sheer amount of sugar made you gag, a pang of jealousy flashed across your face. That was the life you’d longed for ever since you finished high school: living off of nothing but sugar and carbs, looking like a bum and not giving a damn about it, just chilling. 

Unfortunately, with the number of failures and setbacks that stained your past, a carefree life was something you could no longer afford. 

“Yeah, okay, we’ve met,” you cut in, saving the boy from the tricky situation. Skeptic, the clerk stared into your unblinking eyes for what seemed to be a solid 15 seconds before shrugging and handing you your groceries. You snatched up your fabric bag and went on your way, walking fast. The color in your cheeks was probably the same as a tomato. Your least favorite fruit.

Why him, of all the places? Why, universe? Where did I go wrong? You were about to drop dead from embarrassment. As you closed your eyes, you could see your tombstone: “Rest in Peace y/n, died alone and patron-less.”

However, what you didn’t know was that your day was about to get worse. A whole lot worse. It all started when you felt a familiar tap on your left shoulder. I swear– You took a deep breath in and let it out slowly to compose yourself and answered without turning around. 

“What in God’s good name do you want. And why are you wearing hobo clothes.” My clothes, you realized, a tiny bit weirded out.

“They’re comfy,” he pouted, stuffing his hands into the pocket of his newfound hoodie as if to show off. “Anyways, how come you didn’t check your phone earlier?

“Oh, uh,” you felt the pressure in your head rising as you recalled how you threw your phone down in embarrassment and cried. “Sorry, I was feeling kinda down because a certain someone sorta trashed my life’s work and my only chance of being successful in the industry, sooooo yeah. My bad.” 

Sniff. You looked up, startled, only to find that the boy in front of you had tears glistening in the corners of his eyes. His mouth was clamped closed, but his bottom lip was quivering and his eyebrows were turned up, resembling a small child trying to keep himself from bursting into tears after falling and scraping his knee on the pavement. “I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

Well shit. There were two ways you could go about this: one, let your superego do the talking like a good person and prevent the boy from having a total meltdown in the middle of the sidewalk. The second was letting your id run rampant, taking full advantage of his feelings of remorse and overall just being a jerk. Maybe you could be distant and lacking in empathy, but you weren’t an asshole because you wanted to be one. 

“Listen, I’m sorry for calling you a schmuck. A schmuck would not have bothered to keep in contact and a schmuck would not be on the verge of tears out of guilt. ...I accept your apology.” You were going to say that what he did was unforgivable, but you decided no to say that. After a pang of guilt jabbed into you, you bit your lip and softened your tone. 

“I know you feel bad, but you don’t need to cry; there’s no way to turn back time. So instead, let’s move forward and keep looking up. I’ll start.” Smiling slightly with a tilted head, you held out your hand. “Hi, my name is y/n. I know that we’ve technically met, but this is the first time we’ve met met. So, nice to meet you.”

He wiped his tears away with the butt of his palm and tried to return the smile, though his was more watery. “Nice to meet you, y/n. I’m Beomgyu.” You noticed the corners of his lips curl upwards in a small smile as he took your hand, shaking it firmly.

There was a pause of awkward silence as you let go of his hand, wiping your sweaty palm on your sweatpants. Well that was the most awkward introduction I’ve ever had in my life. Clearing your throat, you spoke again to clear the tense atmosphere.

“About my compensation.”

[firefly464]

The Gilded Cage - Chapter 1

if you cant tell the first part of this was written by pami a couple weeks back when we first decided to actually do a prequel :D

Written in collaboration with @i-have-this-now :D

Thank you @rivys for beta reading, editing, and writing :D

Master Post

First - Next

~~~

The first thing that Eret noticed when he woke up was the aching pain in his head. Before he even opened his eyes, he could feel the side of his head throbbing. Every tiny movement sent another wave of pain through his mind. 

Tentatively, he cracked open his eyes, only to shut them almost immediately as a bright light pierced his vision. The light only caused his headache to grow ten times worse. A wave of nausea washed over him, making him groan internally. The last thing he could clearly remember was being on stream, with each memory after that fuzzy and unreachable. 

All things considered, he was probably hungover. He couldn’t remember ever getting drunk, which probably wasn’t a good sign. 

Eret tried for a second time to open his eyes, this time pushing through the pain in his head. As he looked around, he noticed his surroundings were blindingly white. It was as if someone pointed a flashlight directly at his face. Squinting, he tried to see where he was. 

It was way too bright to see anything he recognised, but even with the weird light he saw, he couldn’t see any of the familiar outlines of his desk or chair. It looked like he was inside some sort of strange room from the looks of it, only just barely able to make out the bright outlines of a couple windows. Oh god, did he get kidnapped? Was he already in the second location? What was going on?

“Whoa, slow down. You’re going to make yourself sick. The potion still hasn’t fully left your system,” Eret was forced to swallow a scream of surprise as he heard his friend's voice. Wilbur’s voice was coming from somewhere beside him, though it was far too bright to actually see him. “Wait, here’s your glasses.”

Glasses? Since when did he wear glasses? “My wha-” Eret began, cut off as  an object was pushed into his hands, plasticine and cool to the touch. A pair of sunglasses. He slipped them over his eyes and immediately realized why Wilbur had given them to him. Everything darkened significantly and he could see a lot more than he could before. He was in some sort of van, metal sheets were hammered into the walls of it, as if it had been built by people who didn’t really know what they were doing. 

“Hey, so uh, how are you feeling?” Wilbur asked, his voice filled with tension. 

He glanced over, surprised to find his friend wearing a strange, revolution based outfit. Maybe they were at a con? That would explain the strange cosplay, but it still didn’t make sense. For one, Eret couldn’t remember ever actually going to any conventions, and besides, he was fairly certain that all all conventions were canceled because of covid.

“I feel like shit,” he admitted, slowly pushing himself up into a sitting position. 

Will chuckled slightly, but it sounded forced. “That makes sense. The potion took a toll on all of us.” 

“Potion…?” If he was being honest with himself, he didn’t know where he was, or why Wilbur was there too. He didn’t know what was going on. He was confused, lost, and just wanted to go back to bed. 

The door to the strange van creaked open and someone poked their head in. “How’s he do- oh! You’re up!”

Eret had to do his best to suppress a shriek of surprise. Entering the van was Fundy, but he was… well, different. Peeking through Fundy’s brown wavy hair were two pointed fox ears, and swishing behind him was a fiery orange tail, tipped with a patch of snow white fur. What the fuck?

“Fundy?”

Wilbur furrowed his brow. “He might be experiencing some memory loss. Eret, do you remember who I am?”

“What?” He shook his head, trying to focus. “Yeah, I don’t-- Memory’s good. Just uhh…” He tried to think of a viable excuse, but nothing came to him. “Y’know.”

“Right.”

A tense silence fell over the room as the three of them stared at each other, unsure of what any of them would say next.

Fundy cleared his throat. “Well, sir, I’ll assume my post at the door again. Let me know if he causes any trouble.”

Wilbur nodded in return. “Make me proud, son.”

With a sharp salute, the fox began towards the door of the van. “Of course, father.” Just as soon as he had entered, he was gone, his tail flicking behind him.

Eret furrowed his brow. Father? That didn’t make sense, Wilbur was only three years older than--

Oh.

Memories came rushing back to him as the pieces clicked into place. He remembered the Final Control Room, the strange falling sensation and... being in the game? No, no. That can’t be right. It wasn’t real, right?

“Eret. I need you to focus. I’m going to ask you a few questions.” Wilbur asked, now more forcefully.

“Er, sorry about that. What- sorry- what was the question?” Eret was tempted to ask him what was going on but he thought he should just answer the questions for now.

Wilbur sighed, as if disappointed. “Why didn’t you press the button?”

“Why didn’t I- what?”

“The button was supposed to open up the walls, wasn’t it? You were going to open up the walls, let Dream in, and drug us all. You were supposed to betray us, why didn’t you?” 

“I- I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Eret, don’t lie to me, we found the needles in your bag-”

“I’m not lying.” He steadied his voice, there’s no use shouting at Wilbur. It would only end up making things worse. “I didn’t know what was going on. Wilbur, you have to believe me.”

“You were going to betray us. Why should I believe you?”

Eret didn’t know what to say. This wasn’t real. This isn’t supposed to be real. It was just a game. It was… It was right in front of him. Wilbur didn’t act like himself, he was stern and precise. Was he really even Wilbur? The one he streamed with and joked around with? The one he gathered resources for in Minecraft? He just didn’t understand. 

“Wil, what the hell is going on?” Eret started. “One minute, I’m at my PC. Next, I’m here in this… whatever this place is.”

“What do you mean? Eret, you-” Wilbur was cut off.

“Wilbur, I don’t think I’m from here.”

“...what?” 

“I- This whole world- This isn’t supposed to be real. I’m not supposed to be-”

Click.

Darkness creeped into the edges of Eret’s vision, spots dancing in front of his eyes. Blood rushed past his ears, drowning out any other sounds. It felt as if his mind was filled with static noise, whizzing and humming. “What the…” He blinked a few times to clear his vision. Wilbur sat on the wooden stool, his eyes glazed over. “Uh, Wilbur? Are you alri-”

Wilbur snapped out of his strange trance and shot to his feet, his gaze filled with anger and hatred. “Eret. You heartless bastard. Do you have any IDEA-”

“What? Wilbur, why-”

“Why the fuck are you even here?! To mock us?! To rub your victory in our faces?!” he was screaming now, his voice echoing through the small room, making Eret’s head pound.

"What the hell are you talking about?! I didn't do anything!" he was on his feet now, his arms raised to protect himself. He didn’t know what was going on, but the look in his friends eyes was enough to make him fear for his safety. 

The door to the van slammed open as Fundy came rushing inside. A rush of emotions flew across his face as he took in the situation before him, going from confusion, to shock, and eventually settling on pure hatred, mixed with a hint of fear. His tall, pointed ears were flattened against his head. In any other situation, Eret might have found it funny, but in the moment he was in no mood to laugh. “What the fuck is going on? Why is Eret here?” 

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to figure out. This son of a bitch was here when I came in, who knows what he might have done.” Will snarled, never taking his eyes off Eret.

“What the fuck do you mean? Wilbur, you brought me here! I’ve been here the entire time! You- Fundy, you saw me!” 

“Excuse me? What the hell do you mean by that? I’ve been standing outside this entire time!” Fundy’s hand was on the hilt of his sword, ready to unsheath it and attack at any moment. 

Wilbur’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Fundy, trying to figure out what Eret was talking about. “Enough!” he cried, “Fundy, I want you to go and ring the alarm bell. I need everyone here at once. Understood?”

“But what if he-” 

His eyes narrowed even further. “Now.” 

Eret’s mind raced a thousand miles a minute as he watched his friend scamper outside, most likely to go and sound the alarm. He needed to run, to escape. He didn’t know what was going on, or why Wilbur was so angry at him, but he knew that he needed to leave. The murderous look in his friend’s eyes made it very clear that he wasn’t just going to let Eret walk away peacefully. 

The far off sound of a bell ringing echoed through the small van. Eret could feel his heart rate increasing. Any second now, the others were going to come into the room, and it would make escape ten times harder. If he was going to make a run for it, this was his chance. 

He glanced at Wilbur, then to the door. Although the taller man was in a defensive stance, he wasn’t armed. There was no weapon in his hands. This could be his only chance. 

He crashed through the door, and didn’t look back.

~~~

Master Post

First - Next

Taglist (feel free to send me an ask if you want to be added) @hismilw @violet–majesty​ @chiera99​ @koi-boye​ @waffle-time-god​ @miss-oleum​ @porkgavor​ @crafted-dreams @harley-the-pancake @lemonaid-ruru @luminousart @somethingtocrowabout @bee-tubbo @firepowder @boombahey @rayjayo

[hyungwonmyheart]

Holiday Delight

Group: Pentagon Pairing: Wooseok / Female Reader Words: 1,611 Tags: Valentine’s Day theme, oral (male receiving), love making, vaginal sex, protected sex, fluff Summary: With a break in his busy schedule, you get to spend a passionate Valentine’s Day with Wooseok.

“You really didn’t need to do all of this,” Wooseok exclaimed, glancing around at the dozens of tea light candles scattered on surfaces around the room. He sat anxiously on your bed, having not been in your apartment for a couple months due to his busy schedule.

You walked out of the bathroom, a satin robe hugging your body. “I know,” you said, coyly casting your eyes at the floor, “but I’ve missed you. I wanted this to be special.”

A smile played on his lips as his eyes surveyed every inch of you. “I missed you, too.” He held his arms open towards you.

You made your way over to him, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” you mumbled into the hug.

He nuzzled close to your ear to say, “I got you something.”

You took a step back, though remained standing between his legs. Curiosity plagued your expression.

Reaching into his pocket, Wooseok pulled out a small jewelry box, and you could have sworn your heart stopped.

“What is it?!” You asked, so impatiently it almost sounded like you said one word.

Popping the box open, he displayed the heart-shaped necklace within. “It’s probably lame, but I wanted to give you a heart...that represents mine…” He cleared his throat, realizing how lame it did, in fact, sound. He had to finish what he started, though. “...That way my heart is always with you.”

Your eyes widened. “I love it!” You squealed, touching it delicately. “Can you put it on me?” You turned around, exposing your back to him.

He stood and brushed some of your hair away from your neck, but it wasn’t enough. “The robe’s in the way…”

“Oh!” You loosened the sash and draped it a bit off of your shoulders. It exposed the pink straps of your new babydoll top.

Wooseok swallowed hard at the sight. He couldn’t wait to ravish you. He carefully hooked the clasp and settled the necklace onto your skin. “How about that?”

You glanced into the nearby mirror and looked up at him with a bright smile. “It’s so beautiful! Thank you, baby,” you cooed, turning to him. You lifted onto your tippy toes to give him a kiss.

As soon as your lips touched, the mood changed. Wooseok’s fingers caressed the smooth skin of your shoulders to push the robe even further down your arms. Your breath was heavy, mixing with his. Within seconds, his shirt was on the floor and you were working at the button of his pants. He noticed how eager you were to get them off, too. Steadying your hands with his own, he helped guide the zipper down and eased the pants off his legs. He was left in underwear while you were completely untying your robe.

His mouth started salivating at the sight of your nipples peeking through the sheer fabric of the babydoll top. His eyes barely even drifted any further before you were shoving him onto the bed. He flopped down on the edge, staring at you with alarm at your sudden assertion.

You fell to your knees in front of him and met his gaze. “I love you,” you said just above of whisper, pressing a kiss to his knee.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, but froze as he felt you kiss his inner thigh. He was so speechless that he nearly forgot to answer you. “I love you, too,” he exclaimed, his legs instinctively widening to make more room for you. “So much.”

Slipping your fingers under the hem of his underwear, he lifted his hips and you slid them down his legs. When you were face-to-face with his hardening length, you felt your pussy clench around nothing in a desperate plea to have it inside you. You continued to trail kisses up his thigh until you reached the glorious cock you were proud to call yours. Gripping a hand around the base, you squeezed it a bit as you dragged the tip of your tongue across its slit.

Wooseok’s dick twitched in your grasp as he tilted his head back at the sensation of your tongue. “Shit,” he swore quietly.

You smiled, lapping up the precum that was beginning to seep from his slit. After smearing it on your tongue, you dragged it along the underside of his dick, teasing the veins along the way. You moaned softly. You missed this. You missed being between his long legs with his cock in your mouth, completely absorbed in the pleasure of the moment. His legs tensed as your breath fanned out along his nether regions before your lips wrapped around him.

His hands rested on his knees, their nails digging into them as he immersed himself in this ecstasy. The way your head bobbed, the spots you knew just where to tease; he was quickly approaching release, but he didn’t want that yet. It had been so long since you’d been together, and he wanted to make you feel good, too. “Wait, baby,” he urged, slowly pushing your head away. When he finally took a good look at you, he felt like all the air had been sucked from his lungs.

You were clearly taken off guard. Your lips were swollen and pinker, and your hand was tucked between your legs, petting your wet heat. “What?” You breathed.

Wooseok couldn’t take anymore. He reached down and helped you out of your lingerie before hoisting you onto the bed. You were lying on your back with his hands roaming your body. “You’re so fucking sexy,” he groaned, taking your hand in his. Your fingers were glistening with your arousal, so he sucked them clean for you.

Watching him in silence, you ended up squeezing your thighs together as he hovered over you. The spanse of his shoulders was wide and protective; they always made you feel safe. Your other hand traveled down between your bodies to stroke his cock that was left all to its lonesome.

Letting out a grunt, his brows drew together in a tight knit while his hips thrust into your hand. “Don’t--”

Your lips cut him off. You thrust your tongue into his mouth, tasting yourself on his. A soft whine slipped through the kiss. You felt his hips starting to jerk with your movements and immediately let go of him. “Get a condom,” you whispered, motioning at the nightstand.

No longer than a minute passed for Wooseok to grab a condom, tear the foil, roll it on, and present himself between your legs that were now spread wide for him. His eyes were hypnotized for a moment as he tentatively rubbed himself against your pussy. No matter how many times you had sex, he always adored your body like it was the first time. “Ready?” His voice was low and warm as he questioned.

You gave a nod and took a deep breath, preparing yourself. You whimpered in bliss as he entered you. It had been so long. Throwing your arms up, you beckoned for him to embrace you again.

He happily obliged. Pressing his lips to yours with such a heartfelt tenderness, he slid an arm under your back and rolled his hips with each thrust. His other hand cradled the curve of your neck.

Endless waves of desire washed over you as you needed to feel more. As your bodies moved together, you powerfully met his thrusts. Panting and hitching breaths created a heated atmosphere, full of passion and devotion.

“Harder,” you begged before biting at his bottom lip.

Wooseok sighed against the sting, the pressure of your teeth egging him on. His intensity spurred forward, chasing the pinnacle you both so badly needed.

Your hands had been intertwined with the wavy locks on his head, but one slipped down to vigorously rub your clit. “I’m so close,” you cried into his ear.

Resting his forehead on yours, he grunted a simple “Same!” before his thrusting became sporadic. He kept pounding into you, despite the overstimulation from just coming, until your entire being tensed. You were holding your breath as the strongest orgasm roared through your nerves. Everything went numb for a few seconds, and then suddenly faded into a haze.

You gasped for air.

Wooseok was in shock as he watched you come down from your high. He hadn’t seen you come that hard before, but he felt pride in knowing he helped take part in it. His cock was spent for the time being as he pulled out and disposed of the condom in the bedside trash can. Laying back on the bed, he brought you into his arms and nipped at your lips.

“Wow,” you sighed after returning the kiss. “That was…”

“Unbelievable?” He gloated.

You laughed lightly. “Yeah!” You rested your head against him, fiddling with the heart-shaped pendant that hung around your neck.

“I’m glad you like it,” he said, pointing to the necklace.

“I told you I love it! Not as much as I love you, but it’s up there.” You grinned at him.

That made him chuckle. He ended up sighing deeply as his body began to calm down from being so worked up. He continued to hold you as he stared at nothing in particular. “I’m so glad I was able to see you today…” He found himself saying.

You nodded, snuggling closer to him. “Thankfully everything worked out!”

You knew things wouldn’t always be this fortunate when it came to getting together outside of his hectic work schedule, but in the end, you still loved Wooseok and he still loved you.

That was what mattered.

[dancinginthesliverglow]

Marooned in the Caribbean

By: @art-in-the-sunlight for @comingupwriting in the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange (and a huge thank you to @jelly-pies for beta reading and editing).

Rating: General Audiences. There’s a few depictions of violence and two characters drown (but they survive). No character deaths.

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Morgan Stark, May Parker, Pepper Potts/Stark, a mention of Happy Hogan

Summary:  Peter celebrates his seventeenth birthday with May, Tony, Morgan and Pepper on Tony's yacht. However, trouble strikes in the shape of a horrible storm which sends Peter and Morgan into the ocean. How will they survive?

Prompt chosen: Peter protecting Morgan with a touch of Everyone Lives!Au domestic life of the ironfam.

Ao3 link  Enjoy :)

“... and Happy Birthday to Petey!” Morgan sings at the top of her lungs before jumping into Peter’s arms, barely missing the candles in front of him. 

“Aww thanks guys!” Peter grins looking around at his friends and family. Tony had invited him and May to his yacht to celebrate Peter’s 17th birthday. Peter turns back to Morgan. “Do you want to help me blow out the candles?” 

“Yea!” Morgan turns to the cake, and blows out all the candles in one attempt. 

“Woah! Are you sure you’re not the one turning 17?” Peter jokes, earning a giggle from Morgan. 

“Alright there kiddos, it’s cake time!” May pulls out a fork, takes a piece of icing and holds it up for Peter to taste. As Peter takes a bite, he hears the shutter of a camera and turns to Pepper with a smile. 

“Aww that’s a great picture.” Pepper smiles back at him kindly. 

“My turn!” Morgan jumps out of Peter’s arms.

“I don’t know about that… Did she eat all her vegetables yesterday?” Tony pretends to think about it, turning to Pepper. 

“Hmm.. I don’t remember. But I suppose if she promised to eat all of them tonight…” Pepper mimics Tony’s expression, hiding a smile.

“I promise! I’ll eat it!”

Everyone laughs. “Alright, Morgana. But only one slice. They’ll be more after dinner, if you want.”

Morgan nods eagerly, and impatiently waits as Pepper and Tony cut and distribute the cake. 

May pulls Peter into her side and presses a kiss on his forehead. “Happy birthday, Peter. I love you.”

Peter leans into her and closes his eyes contentedly as May runs her fingers through his hair. “Love you too, May.” 

Pepper hands Peter a slice of chocolate drip cake. Peter finishes it, leans back and looks around at his family. He had really gotten lucky, all things considered. A few months ago - well, 5 years ago really, an alien named Thanos had come to earth with the infinity stones and turned half the population of everything in the entire universe to dust, him and May included. 

A few months ago, Tony and the rest of the Avengers had put together a desperate attempt using time travel - Peter was still spotty on the details - but long story short, they brought everyone back, and survived. It was a close call for Black Widow and Tony, the former was paralyzed from the waist down from a fall on an alien planet, and Tony had lost his arm.

But all of that was in the past. The important point was everyone was alive, they defeated possibly the toughest villain ever and got their happy ever after. There would always be more villains for the Avengers to defeat and more muggers and thieves for Peter to web up in New York but that was normal. 

Peter snapped out of his train of thought when Tony sat down next to him and slung his nanotech arm around Peter. “What do you think, kiddo? Birthday party up to your standards?”

Peter laughs. “Mr. Stark, we’re on a yacht in the Caribbean ocean! This-this is amazing!”

Tony’s expression seems to soften, into a gentle smile. “Anything for you, kiddo.” 

Peter leans into Tony’s embrace but doesn’t say anything. It’s a comfortable silence. Before the blip, he and Tony had grown close. Peter had never said anything but somewhere between patrolling New York City together, training and fighting, and upgrading their suits and working in the lab together, Peter had stopped thinking of Tony as genius, billionaire, superhero, philanthropist and more along the lines of… father. Dad. 

Based on what he managed to piece together from Tony's behaviour, Pepper, Happy, Rhodey and the other Avengers's comments about Tony during the blip, Tony thought of him as his son too. Just the thought of it filled Peter’s chest with warmth. 

“Daaaaaad! Mom says that we have to go inside!” Morgan runs up to Tony and Peter, and points to the left. A massive… cloud -  if it could even be called that - is rolling in. Peter sees flashes of lightning inside the massive cloud.

“Yea okay. Morgana, help Peter take the chairs inside?” Tony stands up and stretches, before moving to the yacht sails. The gesture seems unconcerned but Peter can see a line of tension in Tony’s expression when he looks at the cloud.

Peter’s spidey senses tingle when he looks back at the cloud, and he gets a dark feeling which sends goosebumps up his arms. “That storm seems pretty big.”

Tony smiles at Peter reassuringly. “Don’t worry about it. I outfitted this ship myself. She has nanotech in her walls, along with FRIDAY. If all else fails, I can call a suit.”

~ ~ ~

An hour later, everything is decidedly not okay. The yacht is swaying side to side in the ten foot waves, each time coming closer and closer to flipping over. Pepper, May and Peter are huddled together on the sofa, while Tony taps angrily at the yacht’s interface. The storm was interfering with FRIDAY’s connection. 

Morgan presses her nose against the door staring outside. Peter supposes that if he could get past the dark feeling from his spidey senses, the dark scene with waves crashing and lightning flashing would’ve made quite the enjoyable scene.

As if on cue, Pepper looks up and spots Morgan. “Morgan! Come here!”

“No! I want to watch the lightning!” 

“Morg-” Pepper’s response is lost as something dark flies and knocks the door open. A large branch slides into the center of the room, quickly followed by gallons of water. Morgan falls and screams in terror. 

The room instantly explodes into chaos. Tony, Peter and Pepper instantly jump up and lunge to grab Morgan. The yacht sways in the opposite direction, and the branch and ocean water slide out, along with Morgan. Tony and Pepper’s fingers scantily miss Morgan by centimetres. Peter jumps up to the ceiling, sticks there for a millionth of a second and then throws himself at Morgan as she slides out the door.  

He catches her - in fact he nearly lands on top of her. He has a moment of relief, where he wraps Morgan in his arms tight. A split second later, he realizes his mistake. He used too much force, and now the momentum, along with the yacht’s slick deck sends them both over the yacht rail into the roaring ocean. 

He hits the water head first and it’s agony. He feels like someone with his strength had punched him in the head. The next sensation is ice. The water is ice cold, and he instantly feels frozen to the core. Dazed, he opens his eyes underwater and realizes that Morgan is no longer in his arms. Morgan isn’t anywhere near him, from what he can tell with his limited vision.

 He frantically kicks until he reaches the surface. He sucks in a breath of fresh air and yells, “MORGAN!” before another wave yanks him back under. Peter’s lungs burn as he swallows ocean water. He frantically kicks upward again, trying to get back to the surface. Peter doesn’t see the same tree branch floating on the surface, right above his head. He smashes into it, head first, and the world goes dark. 

~ ~ ~

Peter wakes up coughing. He rolls onto his side and spits out ocean water and bits of seaweed, before throwing up what was left of his birthday cake. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and slowly sits up.

Something digs into his side. He pats his side, and then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a red, metal swiss knife just slightly bigger than his thumb. He tries to remember where he got it but he comes up blank. Peter sticks it back into his pocket and looks around. 

Peter’s on a sandy beach. The sun is slightly angled in the sky, and isn’t quite scorching hot yet so Peter estimates that it's sometime in the morning. There isn’t a cloud in sight. Waves peacefully lap at his feet. 

Shakily, Peter stands up and turns away from the ocean. He stumbles a few times before righting himself. Several meters in front of him the beach slowly transitions into sandy dirt with a few shrubs, and then into what seems like a thick jungle.

Peter touches his head, and hisses in pain. His fingers come away clean, if not a little sandy. Based on the sharp sting that's now fading and the underlying throbbing, Peter knows he has a head injury. 

What happened?

It comes back to him in pieces. His birthday, The swiss army tinker knife gift in his pocket. The yacht. May. Tony. The cake. The storm. Morgan.

Oh god, Morgan.

Peter swallows and forces tears back. He’s no use to Morgan if he allows his emotions to overcome him. He needs to stay positive. Peter and Morgan had fallen in the ocean at the same spot. Maybe there’s a chance Morgan washed up on the same shore as him?

Peter stumbles across the beach squinting in the sunlight, looking for Morgan’s figure. He tries to stave off his panic. Why did the sun have to be so… intense in the Caribbean? He knows the answer to that, of course. The tilt of the earth in combination with the curvature of the earth causes the sun’s rays to be more concentrated over~

The sight of a figure lying in the sand, close to shore in the distance stops Peter’s train of thought. Could it be?

Peter sprints towards her, and practically falls beside her. Carefully he rolls her over - and yes, it’s Morgan. She’s pale and there’s sand and seaweed covering her face, but it's definitely Morgan. 

Peter shakily holds his hand over her mouth. She’s breathing. Peter sits back on his heels, closes his eyes and sighs in relief. Morgan’s okay. Something in Peter relaxes. Morgan’s going to be okay and he’s okay. All he has to do is send up some type of flare or signal so that Tony can find them. A dark thought passes through Peter’s mind. What if the storm had been too much? What if Tony and Pepper and May-

Through sheer force of will, Peter stops the thought in its tracks. Tony is the strongest superhero, the strongest person he knows (maybe aside from Pepper, May and MJ). Not even Thanos or the Infinity Stones (arguably the strongest weapons in existence) could kill him. Tony definitely survived the storm, which means that May and Pepper survived as well. 

Peter focuses on Morgan. He puts a hand to her head. Her forehead is hot, but not worryingly so. He carefully picks her up and looks around. To his right, he spots a huge tree with large branches hanging over the beach, casting shade over the area. Perfect. 

Peter walks over and gently lies Morgan underneath. He rips off a piece of his shirt, soaks it in water, and gently places it on Morgan’s forehead. She wrinkles her nose and softly huffs, but doesn’t wake up. Peter kisses her head and sits down next to her. 

In the sandy dirt, he makes a plan. His first priority is to find shelter. Peter looks at the tree he and Morgan are taking shelter underneath, and decides that it’s good enough for now. Next on the list is to find water, followed by making a signal for Tony and then finding food. Peter sincerely hopes they won’t have to stick around on the island too long. He has never had to hunt for food before, and he isn’t quite sure what’s poisonous and what’s safe. He regrets not taking MJ up on borrowing her survival guide.

First things first, Peter needs to find water. He goes to stand up, but then looks back at Morgan. She’s especially vulnerable like this, and Peter doesn’t want to leave her alone. He figures carrying her around is an option, although it’s not one that he likes. There’s too much that could go wrong. 

Peter scans the shoreline, looking for inspiration to a solution, when he spots a palm tree several meters away. His eyes follow the trunk. Twenty feet up, Peter spots a few coconuts. He smiles. This should be easy. 

Several minutes later, Peter sits back down next to Morgan, looking slightly worse for wear with a few bug bites and three coconuts. He pulls out the army knife and begins carefully hacking away at the top of the first coconut.  

After what seems like forever, Peter finally cuts through the coconut shell. He carefully pours a bit of coconut water on his palm, and then sniffs it. It has a faint odor, but more importantly, it doesn’t trigger his spidey senses. Peter raises the hole in the coconut to his mouth and takes a sip. The taste is a little weird, but to Peter, it’s the most delicious thing he’s ever had. He’s halfway done drinking the rest of the water when he hears Morgan stirring. 

Carefully, he leans the coconut upright against the other coconuts, and then rushes to Morgan’s side. 

“Hey Morgan! Are you waking up? Morgan?” Peter gently taps Morgan’s shoulders.  

Morgan opens her eyes and squints at him. “Wha - Petey?”

Peter’s face breaks out into a huge grin. “Hey Morgan!” He helps her sit up.

“Where are we? Where’s Mom and Da-” Her raspy voice breaks off into a cough. 

Peter hands her the coconut. “Here, drink.”

She takes the coconut with two hands and drinks. Peter nearly chuckles at the sight. It's adorable. 

“What do you remember?”

Morgan frowns for a moment, before her face clouds and she looks on the edge of crying. 

“Hey- nono! We’re going to be okay! Don’t cry!” 

Morgan’s lip trembles, and Peter pulls her into a fierce hug. “I promise you, Mr. Stark-Dad is out there looking for us. And he’s going to find us as soon as… as we complete our mission.” 

“M-mission?” Morgan still looks scared, but the threat of tears are beginning to retreat.

“Yea! The first step was getting coconut water.”

Morgan makes a face. “Coconut water tastes weird.”

Peter laughs. “It does! But it’s part two of the mission. We have to drink coconut water whenever we get thirsty.”

“Fine… But I’m only doing it so Dad can find us.” Morgan looks oddly determined for a kid. “What else do we have to do?”

“Hmm, let’s see. Find coconuts, drink coconuts…” Peter makes an exaggerated thinking face, and Morgan giggles. “Next is making a signal!”

“A signal?”

“Yea! Mr. St- Dad is already looking all over for us. But he doesn’t know where exactly to look, so we have to tell him!”

“How do we do that?”

“Well, I’m fresh out of flares, what about you? Are you hiding any under… here?” Peter lunges at Morgan and tickles her sides.

“Hey!” Morgan giggles and starts squirming. “Petey stop it!” 

Peter withdraws his arms with an exaggerated thinking face. “No flares then. I guess we’ll have to make a smoke signal. See those pieces of wood?” 

Peter points to the driftwood lying around the beach, presumably dragged in by the storm. “We’re going to use it to build a bonfire, and then cover it in leaves!” 

Morgan claps her hands in delight. “Ooh just like the fire I built with Dad! We wanted to make it as tall as the sky but Mom said no.” Morgan looks disappointed.

Peter laughs and agrees. “Just like that, except the smoke will be as tall as the sky!”

Morgan’s eyes widen in excitement. She jumps to her feet. “I want to start now! Can we build it now, Petey?” 

Peter stands up next to her. “Sure! But you have to promise me that if you feel tired, you’ll come back to this tree and take a break. And if you get thirsty, you’ll tell me so I can open another coconut.”

Morgan nods eagerly. “I promise! Can we go now?”

Over the course of the next few hours, Peter instructs Morgan on how to tell if the driftwood is dry. He shows her how to pile the pieces of wood together, so that they don’t immediately fall over. When the pile gets too tall for her to stack pieces of wood on, they take a break and finish off another coconut, and part of the third. He tells her to use rocks to spell out “SOS” in the sand, while he piles the bigger pieces of driftwood- some the size of Morgan - on their pile, along with some fresh branches he broke to create smoke. 

They finish around midday, and Peter sends Morgan under the tree to rest. In the end, the pile is nearly as tall as Peter. He takes out the army knife and pulls out the two small magnifying glasses. He arranges them so that the sunlight is directly shining through both glasses and onto the wooden pile, and then goes under the tree to wait. 

It doesn’t take long for the wood to catch on fire. They cheer and hug. Peter retrieves his army knife, and they watch in satisfaction as their pile of wood catches on fire, sending black smoke billowing up into the air. 

They settle back down underneath the tree with the last coconut. Just as they finish it off, Morgan spots something in the ocean, near the horizon. As it approaches, the shape becomes more distinguished until Peter can tell it's a ship.

Morgan and Peter run out onto the beach and start waving their hands above their heads, trying to get the ship captain’s attention. Slowly, Peter watches as the ship veers off its course, and begins heading towards them. Morgan cheers and hugs Peter, but Peter doesn’t share the same sentiment. His spidey senses are giving him a dark feeling and sending goosebumps up his arms. 

Peter’s in the middle of trying to convince Morgan to wait beneath the tree when a shot rings out. Driven by instinct, Peter immediately tackles Morgan to the ground. Barely a second later, something hits the ground a few feet away from them. Peter turns back to the ship, and spots a glimmer of a sniper’s scope in the sunlight. 

“Petey!” Morgan cries out in fear, as Peter practically lifts her to her feet.

“Come on Morgan!” Peter’s pulling her off the beach, towards the jungle as fast as he can. “We have to hide!” 

Morgan stumbles after him. Another bullet hits the sand a few feet to their right, and they both flinch.

“Wai- NO!” As they reach the tree, Morgan jerks her hand out of Peter’s. “I don’t want to go in the forest! It’s scary! And Dad… how’s Dad going to find us in there?”

Peter pulls Morgan behind the tree so they’re temporarily hidden. He looks at Morgan. She’s terrified, shaking and there’s a few tears falling down her cheeks. He softens his tone. “Listen, Mr. S-Dad is going to see the bonfire, and then he’ll search every inch of this island, okay? But now we have to go-” Both Peter and Morgan flinch as another shot rings out. “-right now. Okay?”

Morgan nods, and Peter doesn’t waste any time. He picks Morgan up and runs as fast as he can through the jungle, crashing through the undergrowth. 

After what seems like an hour of running, Peter slows down, and then stops when he comes across a moderately small stream. He sets a strangely quiet Morgan down, kneels next to the river and splashes his face with water. To his surprise, it doesn’t smell salty. 

He cups some of the water in his hands and brings it up to his face. When he doesn’t get a warning from his spidey senses, he takes a sip. The water is cool and soothing. 

“Morgan, here.” Peter gently helps Morgan to the edge of the stream. “Cup your hands like this, and then drink.”

Morgan makes a face. “Isn’t the water mucky?”

“Uh, nope! I mean, probably not? But it’s a freshwater stream, and we really need to stay hydrated with this heat…” Peter takes another drink of water, and then looks around. His path of running through the jungle is clearly outlined with trampled plants and vines and branches snapped, and pushed out of the way. He had essentially led whoever was on that ship to their current location. 

“Petey, what are we going to do?” Morgan’s tearful brown doe eyes stare up at him. 

Peter rubs her head and stands up. “We just have to add a few steps to our plan.” He tries to sound confident. 

“What steps?”

“I’m not sure yet.” 

To his left, Peter sees a tall, sturdy looking tree with large branches and fairly thick leaves. To his right, there’s a few old branches with dried leaves falling off. Peter moves towards them, and lifts one up. There’s a large hole, maybe ten feet deep underneath.

Peter smiles. “We’re going to set a trap.”

~ ~ ~

Almost two hours later, four armed men enter the small clearing by the steam. Grunt number one turns to the guy at the back and says, “The trail ends here, sir.”

The boss snarls in anger. “Spread out and find them! We’re not letting those two Stark brats get away! We need the ransom money!”

Grunt numbers one, two and three spread out around the stream, looking for clues. 

After a few moments, grunt two spots a shoe lying on top of a few branches to the right. “Hey bo-” He steps closer to pick up the shoe, but the ground disappears, and he falls down, into a hole. 

At the same time, grunt number three spots a shoe lying on top of a couple vines to the left. He steps closer, and picks up the shoe. All of a sudden, a large rock with vines wrapped around it falls down and the vines jerk up, sending the man flying upwards in the air… in a net made of vines. He drops his gun in the commotion and starts swearing. 

The boss and grunt number one immediately move together so they are back to back and raise their guns. “What the hell…”

A large figure swings from the top of the tall tree that grunt number three is hanging in and crashes into grunt number one. They roll on the ground, and the figure manages to disarm the grunt and loop the vine around him, immobilizing him.

The click of bosses’ gun safety turning off stops the figure in his tracks. The boss has his gun trained on the figure’s forehead. “Don’t move! I’ll shoot!”

The figure stops moving and yells, “Now!”

A bright light is shone directly into the boss’s  eyes. He stumbles back disoriented and raises an arm to shield his eyes. The figure takes the opportunity to disarm the boss and tie him up in vines. 

Peter grabs the boss and drags him to the ten foot hole. He holds the guy by his arm and dangles him over the pit, in such a way that the boss can’t see beneath him. 

“Wait - no please! What-what do you want?”

“Why did you attack us?” 

“You’re Stark’s kid, right? He’s looking all over for you, there's suits flying everywhere. He’s looking in the wrong area though, any experienced sailor can tell you that. We figured we’d grab you guys and make some cash.”

Peter’s face is stone cold. “How many of you came here?”

“Just us four, kid. Now let me go-”

Peter smiles. “Okay.” And lets him fall into the pit. The boss screams, and then presumably falls on top of grunt number two. There’s a lot of muffled cursing. 

Peter looks up to the tall tree. “Morgan! You can climb down now!”

Morgan carefully climbs down and runs to Peter. “Petey! He said Dad’s looking for us!”

“That’s right! Good job with the light!” Peter takes the Swiss army knife from her, guides her around the traps and tied-up grunts and back to the path in the jungle. “We’re going to see if their ship has a radio we can use to call Dad.”

Morgan stops walking and turns to Peter. “But… I don’t want to go aboard the ship. It’s scary.”

Peter kneels down next to her so they’re face to face. “We defeated all of them back there, Morgan. They can’t hurt us anymore.”

“But what if they escape? Or if-if there’s more bad guys on the ship.”

“Then I’ll protect you, Morgan. Always.”

Morgan hesitates. “Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise.” Peter stands back up. “You know… Dad always told me that you loved adventures.”

“I do! Me, Mom and Dad always go on adventures!”

“Yes? Well think of this as another adventure. We’re pirates and that ship on the beach has treasure!”

Morgan stares at Peter, her eyes glinting in delight, before she grabs Peter’s hand and pulls him toward the beach, “Come on Petey! We have treasure to find!”

~ ~ ~

A few hours later as the sun is setting, one very stressed-out Tony Stark steps out of his iron suit on the beach. Peter and Morgan immediately hop out of the ship to meet him. 

“DAAAAAAD!” Morgan runs up to Tony and hugs him. Tony kneels down and catches her and presses a kiss to her forehead. “You’re never going to believe what happened! Me and Petey had the best adventure ever! We drank coconuts and made a bonfire and then we raided the ship-”

Tony pulls back slightly without releasing Morgan from their hug to look at her. “Hold on, what?” Then he spots the black bandana on her head. He tugs at it. “Morgana, what is this?”

“We’re pirates! ARRRRRRRR!”

Tony looks up at Peter in confusion. “What?” Then he spots the chicken leg Peter’s eating.

Peter just smiles and responds, “We’re pirates.”

Tony shakes his head and picks Morgan up with one arm. He steps toward Peter, wraps an arm around him and kisses his forehead. “Mom’s on her way, and May is waiting with Happy in the Quinjet.” Tony pauses for a moment. “I’m just glad you guys are okay.” 

Peter relaxes into the hug, in a way he hasn’t since he arrived on the island. The same feeling of happiness and warmth he felt on the yacht while sitting with Tony is back. “Me too.”

“Hey Morgan,” Peter starts. “Do you want to show Dad your pirate key?” Peter feels Tony tense slightly and he realizes what he just said. Dad. Shit-shit-shit-shit-

“Yea! Look Dad!” Morgan pulls a key attached to a string from around her neck. “Me and Petey found it on the ship-” Morgan is interrupted with the sound of another suit flying by. The trio looks up, and its-

“Mom!” Morgan starts wiggling and Tony puts her back down on the beach, but he still keeps a hand on her shoulder until Pepper lands. Morgan runs up to her, and Pepper catches her and wraps her up in a tight hug. 

Peter steps away from Tony awkwardly. “Sorry about uh, calling you Dad-” 

“Hey, no it’s okay.” Tony gently pulls Peter back to him. “I know I’m not your biological dad, and I wasn’t the one to raise you, but I still think you as my kid. I wasn’t just worried about Morgan, I was worried about you too.”

Peter feels his face heat up. He wraps his arms around Tony and buries his face in the side of Tony’s neck. Tony chuckles, and runs a hand through Peter’s sandy curls. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Dad.” 

[i-write-sometimes-blog]

Cold Eyes (Dark Rey x Reader) [Part 9]

Summary: A time after the destruction of your home planet you found yourself caught in a living nightmare.

Words: 1,842

A/N: I know this is a bit weird but I promise it'll make sense. It's not an existing chapter to be honest but I needed to explain some things. Hope you enjoy it anyways.

It was dark, very dark. The sounds of the downpour outside filling the atmosphere, a thunder rumbled through the air lighting the sky made you shiver as you walked through the room, your footsteps echoing in the tall black walls of this place you couldn’t recognized.

Felt the gaze of a thousand eyes lying on you from above but didn’t dare to look up the fear in your body already taking over you and the cold wind sending shivers down your spine. Another thunder crossed the sky carrying your name with its sound as if was calling you. Then a voice resonated in the air making goosebumps form in your skin.

“Y/N” she whispered, her familiar voice sounded very close to you making you turn already fearing to see her face. But instead of what you were thinking you found a soft smile waiting for you as you faced her. Rey was standing there, in her light clothes as if nothing had ever happened. Unable to believe your eyes you stepped forward and stretched a hand to cup her face as she smiled at you. The softness of her skin beneath your fingertips making you clear she was there.

“Rey” you murmured pulling her into a desperate hug, urging to feel her close as if she were going to disappear any moment.

“Come with me” she said in a tender and calming tone breaking apart just enough to lay her eyes on you.

“Yeah, let’s get back to the base” you chuckled admiring her features. For a moment you forgot about the place you where in, didn’t even remembered how you ended there, and then a big thunder placed you back to reality, the light flashed in the room scaring you with every new roaring thunder. The woman in your arms seemed to change as the light and the darkness danced in the night sky revealing her new form when the thunders stopped.

The black cape casting shadows on her pale skin that covered half of her face, the sight of her like this made you flinch in fear.

“Come with me” she said again offering you her hand. Your feet started to drag you back slowly, the intense need of run inside your body as the panic washed over you. The woman in black lifted her head allowing the thin light in the room hit her entire face, a loud gasp let you lips when her eyes met yours.

Her yellow eyes focused on you filled your body with a pure fear. The whole thing you were seeing turned a mix of shades of orange and red and suddenly the image of your home planet appeared in front of you just before it became a burning mess, you heard screams, millions of them from those lives in the planet, women and men and children crying in pain as the fire consumed them. Then you heard familiars voices from your friends in the Resistance, you heard Poe and Finn screaming in agony… Leia crying. The voices became louder and louder with every passing moment. A scream let your throat and the planet exploited, in that exact moment you turned around to find Rey smirking before she stab you with her red lightsaber.

The intense pain in your stomach woke you up, your hands instantly traveling to that place where the pain was stronger right below your ribs where she had stabbed you. No wounds, not blood, there was nothing. Panting you propped yourself in the bed looking around the small empty room, still feeling the pain and the fear in your body as a lump started forming in your throat and the tears started to pool in your eyes.

It all had been just a nightmare.

Another bad dream about her, just like the rest of them that hunted you every night as soon as you close your eyes. Nightmares that were consuming you slowly, keeping you awake most of the times. Dreams full of regret and terror.

Soon the tears began to run down your face, your lips were quivering as you sniffed shaking your head, trying to get the ugly feeling the nightmare had left on you off, the pictures of the nightmare repeating over and over again inside your head.

“Stop” you murmured barely audible to yourself, your words shaking a little as you tried to contain the tears. “Stop thinking” were the only words to tried to comfort yourself alone in the room that had nothing more than your bed.

You forced yourself to get out the bed running your hands through your face cleaning every tear off you before getting ready with the dark robes carefully folded in a corner of the bed. The pictures of the horror dream refusing to go away at the point that you could see them as you closed your eyes. With all the strength you could you force yourself to ignore them.

The real world wasn’t much better than the nightmare, sometimes you couldn’t even tell when you were sleeping and when not. It was hard to know with the First Order flag waving in almost every planet of the sector. After the attack to your home planet the whole system start to surrender, letting the First Order rule upon them.

You walked through the dark and tall hallways of the Fortress, after this time you knew almost every turn and every hall in the interminable labyrinth of the place. Serious you kept your way, a handful of troopers marched in your direction but instead of pointing their blaster at you they stepped aside and slightly bowed with their head at you before continuing marching. It was still weird for you, you used to take down every stormtrooper that came your way back in your days in the Resistance and now they treated you as a superior.

The sound of your boots meeting the floor was the only sound you could hear in the place as you came closer to your destination in the underground of the fortress, the place Rey had showed you the very first time you arrived to this lava planet.

Time had passed, how much? you didn’t remember, but it was quite a lot after the last attack. You lived your days crying in regret, submerged in your own misery. Overthinking most of the time, about your past, about the Resistance, about Rey… and all the atrocities she had done. And in the nights exhausted for long hours of crying you let your body melt in the bed but the warm sensation never lasted enough as the nightmares invaded your head.

You hoped with the time those feelings and nightmare would disappeared but after all this time they still hunting you. The pain being constantly remembered by her presence. Rey would come every day to check on you, always cold, always asking you the same question, offering you to be train in the dark with her. You gave her always the same answer “No”

Everything changed when you overheard a conversation, the General Hux and someone else were talking about plans to end with the Resistance that included you. The message you sent before Endor, they were using your connection with them to send wrong locations and times.

"You're late" you heard Rey said as you stepped into the black room, your gaze traveling to find her in the corner of the room.

"I'm sorry… Master" you said looking at the ground "Won't happen again"

She came from the shadows and stepped closer to you, your gaze unable to meet hers.

"Good" she said and handed you a lightsaber that burned red when you ignited Rey didn't wait a second more and started hitting with her own weapon.

The room filled with the sounds of the humming sabers moving and crashing against each other. Attack, then back, attack again. Your mind kept telling you what to do as you dodged Rey's unstoppable movements, she seemed so calm swinging her deadly weapon with ease while you were already panting, trying your best to keep going, but she was way more stronger than you. With a simple move she slightly pressed her lightsaber on your arm causing you to scream in pain.

"Concentrate!" She yelled.

The pain in your arm brought back the nightmare you had last night, as flashes of the dream crossed your mind you circulated your saber sword thrusting back at Rey.

Feeling your heart racing and your head aching for the memories that came back to you. You focused on your goal, to learn the ways of the force so you could help your friends in the Resistance, contact with them without needing any kind of device. You wanted to reach them with the force, that was the only thing you could do. You felt so useless so powerless and impotent the you weren't able to help or even know about them while the First Order kept adding more planets to their side.

You shook your head in a desperate try to shake your thoughts off and concentrate but your mind had other plans as the nightmare kept coming over and over again.

Growling your swang your saber with strength making Rey back off but you kept thrusting feeling how the tears began to form in your eyes until with a last move you took Rey's saber out of her hands and pointed it and your red weapon at her.

"Perfect" she said a soft smile dancing on her lips. "You let your emotions guided you" she told you and you turned off the sabers. "I'm proud of you, Y/N"

"Thanks" you told her cold already turning around to let the room.

"You've been crying" she said.

"Not that you care" you responded without looking back at her, your hand rushing to clean the small tear on your cheek.

"I do care, Y/N" she said with a much more tender tone before rushing to you before you could left. This past months she’ve been… nicer, not the angry monster that destroyed your planet without blinking, her eyes went back to the normal light brown from time to time, like in this moments. You sighed, you didn’t want to make her angry again, so did everything she said as an order.

“I’ve been having… nightmares” you said finally meeting her eyes. “Every night”

“It’s okay you can tell me” she encouraged you noticing the doubt and insecurity lying on your face.

“It’s always different” you told her “But… it always ends the same way. With a lightsaber across my body” you told her feeling a new lump closing your throat.

“And who’s holding that saber” asked Rey with pure concern on her features. You eyes went to the ground as you forced yourself to breathe letting out a shaky breath. You needed to focus or you were gonna break down with the pictures of the bad dream hitting you. Then you looked directly into her eyes.

“You” you murmured before leaving the room.

Tagging: @cpt-bolter , @elvencantation , @jay-birf03 , @x-a-gay-disaster-x , @sheogasms , @hstoria , @iamafangirl-fightme

(In case you want to be tagged for specific things, just let me know)

[dusky-dancing]

The Prince and the Pirate - CH 5

For SoKai Week - Day 5

Story Summary: Sora finds himself far away from the walls of the Radiant Garden he's known his whole life, kidnapped by a rowdy group of pirates whose captain is as alluring as she is mysterious. What he thought was a simple hostage negotiation turns into an adventure that Sora couldn't have anticipated. He doesn't know which is worse, not knowing what's up ahead, or liking it that way.

Rating: T

Genre: Romance, Adventure, Pirate AU

Length: ~ 2900 words

——————————————————–

Links for story navigation:

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 6 | Part 7

——————————————————–

The first sensation that hit Sora was just how cold he was.

No, it wasn't just cold, he was soaking wet in his clothes, his hair, everything. He tried to breathe in but only found himself choking.

Breathe.

I can't breathe!

Waking in a startle, his lungs forcefully coughed up sea water until air rushed into his lungs.

The lullaby of gently tossing waves almost tempted him to lay back down, but then his memories came flooding back to him. Specifically, his memories of the one who'd saved him from drowning.

"Kairi!"

He pushed himself onto his knees and glanced around. Besides the beach sand, whatever island they'd washed ashore was covered almost entirely in green, from the lush bushes to the tall palm trees.

Well, atleast it seems livable, he thought to himself.

Then his eyes caught a splash of pink, and he was on his feet not a moment later.

"Kairi!" He shouted over and over as his weakened legs carried him across the beach.

Besides the wind tossing her damp hair, she wasn't moving. His knees crashed into the sand beside her.

She lay on her back, breathing - thank the gods - but he knew the sight of a broken leg anywhere. His heart ached, like he'd just watched priceless porcelain shatter. She wasn't going to feel great when she woke up, and she wasn't going to like what he'd have to do.

The break was recent enough that there was still time to set it back into place. It wouldn't heal perfectly, but atleast she'd be able to walk normally again.

"Kairi." He lifted her torso and brushed the hair out of her face. "Please, wake up."

His only warning was a gurgling sound in the back of her throat before she began coughing sea water into the sand. Her eyes slowly opened, and for a moment relief washed across her face before it was replaced with a painful wince.

She glanced down by her leg, but he kept her down. "It's broken pretty bad," he said. "Probably best that you don't look before I… I have to…"

She nodded in understanding. "Just give me something to bite."

That part was easy. With the amount of plants and trees just in their vicinity, spare branches and sticks lay just beyond the shore. Sora picked one that was hard enough to do the trick, but soft enough to not damage her teeth. At the same time, he gathered sticks and vines sturdy enough to serve as a temporary splint.

He returned quickly, dusted it off, and silently handed it to her. No words could properly communicate how hard it would be for both of them, but the quicker it was over with, the better.

Kairi bit down on it and rested back on her elbows. Closing her eyes, she nodded in preparation.

Sora knelt by her leg. In any other circumstance the act would've felt much more intimate. Her legs were so smooth yet hardened from her life on the sea. Sora took several deep breaths before gently placing his hands above and below the break.

Just focus on putting it back in place.

Don't think about who it is.

Counting down would only make it worse, so he just went for it. After a final inhale, he flexed his hands and moved her bone back into place.

Even when muffled, the blood-curdling scream that followed made Sora shudder. In that moment, he felt like a worse monster than the Kraken that had caused this. Her back arched as she kicked and tore through the sand with her healthy limbs. After securing her leg with his improvised splint, He rushed back up to her upper half and pulled her close.

"The worst is over, Kairi," he tried to remain calm despite his accelerating heartbeat. "I'm so sorry."

She muffled more cries of pain in his chest, and he endured the punches to his torso. The stick finally fell from her teeth as her breathing steadied. Jabs turned into tight grips on his jacket.

"Thanks," she breathed.

Now that he knew she'd be okay, the reality of their proximity hit him. He'd barely done more than shake her hand before, and now she was lying in his arms. Even the chilled ocean breeze couldn't stop his face from warming. Afraid he'd crossed a line, he set her back down to support her own weight once she relaxed.

"I should be thanking you," he said. "You saved me."

She met his eyes for the first time since waking up, though her own were still wide and unfocussed from the pain.

"And you saved my crew," she smiled before turning her gaze away. "Besides, I worked hard to get you. I wasn't about to lose you to some sea monster."

Sora wasn't about to let her sincerity hide away again. "Oh, so you'll just toss me to the sea once we're done?"

She tensed up. "No, of course not! I-" her eyes narrowed once she noticed his smirk. "How mean, to tease a girl when she's down."

"Couldn't help it," he smiled. "Speaking of which, though, what do we do now?"

She sat up further and turned her gaze to the sea. "Now we wait. I told my crew to get the rescued to safety first, then circle back for us. It hopefully shouldn't take more than a few days."

"A few days is pretty fast."

"You're right. Plus, the Leviathan won't be as fast without my magic." She closed her eyes, but the growing anxiety showed itself all over her face. "Let's make it a week."

"Hey, on the bright side, this isn't the worst island to be stuck on," he smiled.

Careful of her leg, she turned around and took in the cliffs, waterfalls, and endless green that stretched all around the beach. The island was small, but not uninhabitable. Under different circumstances, it would've been a paradise. Some relief washed over her, and she relaxed again.

"First thing's first, though," he continued, "we gotta make you a better splint."

One thing neither of them could deny was that the island was beautiful. It transformed as the sun moved through the sky. The tide crept up the beach, but not too far or too violently. Salty air complimented the scent of life-filled trees and shrubbery.

But what caught their eyes the most was a small sub island just off the shore.

During their slow journey up the beach, with Sora practically needing to carry Kairi, they'd spotted food like mushrooms and coconuts - nothing as bright and yellow as the star-shaped fruit that rested on that tiny island. Sora laid her down within some nearby shade and stared out at it.

"I'm sorry," Kairi said after a moment.

He sat beside her. "It's okay, Kairi, but you'll have to get more specific," he cracked a smile in an attempt to lift her spirits.

"For not being entirely honest, from the beginning."

He lay back and laced his hands behind his head. "You were being vague for sure, but anything that pulled me from home was going to be exciting."

Her fingers traced random lines in the sand. "Remember the story from the other night?"

"The Leviathan one? That's the quest you're on, right?"

She nodded. "There's more to it. I'm not the only piece to the puzzle. Although the Kraken is powerful, he's not omnipotent. Remember how I said he had to lock away her heart?"

Sora sat up and regarded her curiously.

"Well, where there is a lock, there is also…"

His heart stopped. She'd paused to let him think, but Sora blurted the answer before he could stop himself.

"A key."

Besides the smile that graced her features, Sora couldn't pay attention to the rest of her explanation. Something about the same light creating a key and bestowing it upon a worthy heart. His mind was racing. It all made perfect sense why she needed him and why the Kraken had attacked him. But why had Kairi been so...forceful?

"You figured it out," her voice drew him back from the pit in his stomach.

"Why didn't you just ask?" he shook his head. "I would've gone with you still, without the kidnapping or anything."

She hummed. "Maybe you would've, but would your kingdom have let you?"

"What about your powers?" he asked. "They come from Leviathan. People would believe you in a heartbeat."

She laughed, "As always, you give people too much credit, Sora." Her gaze drifted out to sea. Though the evening had begun to darken their surroundings, she seemed focussed, possibly on the sound of tossing waves or the smell of the ocean breeze.

"In a world where the ocean is terrifying and monster-infested, what would people think of a girl with water-based magic?"

Her eyes were filled with sadness, and Sora wasn't sure if he wanted to know how many times she'd tried to win people over, only to be feared and tossed out.

"I suppose I've always been believed." His hand extended forward between them, and his Keyblade manifested before her. Her eyes grew wide, and she shuffled closer. "When my Keyblade appeared, my father took it as a sign of strength and heroism, and therefore that our family must be blessed. The irony is, I don't think I've done a single heroic deed with this blade. Fought some battles, sure, but nothing to actively help people." He chuckled, "If this whole time I'd been kept locked away, I was supposed to be helping people by ridding the ocean of those monsters, then my life's been a waste."

She reached a hand out and hovered it over the neck of the blade. Her eyes asked for permission, which he answered with a simple nod. She waited not a moment longer before touching the cold metal. Her fingers ran slowly from the hilt to the teeth a few times before she glanced up to him again.

"You're here now," she said, "that's not a waste." With her curiosity satisfied, she drew her hand back and regarded him fully. "It seems we're both missing something the other can provide. You need a heroic quest, and I need a hero to complete my quest."

The chilled night air suddenly grew warmer. Sora's chest tightened, but in a way that just made him want to sit closer to her. Instead, he cleared his throat and turned away.

"Well, we both need a way off of this island first."

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A day passed, and still Sora couldn't shake the island with the star-shaped fruit from his mind. Though it sat easily within swimming range, even at high tide, he found the rock and soil too slippery to climb.

It was a strange little sub-island, able to sustain a single tree that didn't grow anywhere else. He swam back to the main shore, bested again by the mysterious island.

"Still trying, huh?" Kairi giggled.

"It's killing me." He turned back to face it with his hands on his hips. It mocked him, standing just out of reach.

Kairi sat up and began unfastening her splint. "I have an idea," she said. "Take me with you."

"What? No! Kairi your leg-"

"Will be fine," she finished for him with that stubborn smirk of hers. "See, I'm taking the splint off so it doesn't get wet."

He was never given the chance to deny her again, for as soon as it was off she extended her hands out for assistance. He pulled her to her feet and supported her weight as they made their way back into the water. A hum of delight escaped her throat when the water hit her ankles. He hadn't thought of how much she must have missed the water. It probably pained her to be sitting a few feet from it all day yet unable to go in.

Once waist-deep, Kairi sighed and let her legs float. "Oh man, why didn't I think of this earlier?"

Sora chuckled. "Feel better?"

"Amazing." She closed her eyes and let her legs suspend in the gentle waves while Sora supported the rest of her weight.

If she hadn't been injured, this would've been the perfect moment to splash her while she'd been distracted. Later, Sora promised himself.

He shifted so they both floated on their backs, with her upper body weight supported on his chest. Through the blush spreading across his face, he told himself the position was necessary to get them to the small island. Gently, he began to kick his legs and guide them along. He half-expected Kairi to use her abilities to push them through the water, but she remained still in his grasp.

"Letting me do all the work, huh?" He teased.

Her torso shook as she laughed. "You'll see."

Sora's feet soon touched sand again as they neared the island.

"Stop here," she commanded, "and stand with me."

He did as she said. Using one hand for balance on him, she brought her other up in a familiar elegant motion. As expected, the water followed her lead and swelled around them. He suddenly felt less like he was in the water and more like the water was gripping him.

His instinct proved true when she raised her hand even further, and the water lifted them. Quickly, he was the one clinging to her for support as their roles reversed. In one smooth wave, they glided up and onto the raised sandy platform.

Even up close, it looked like any tropical tree that bore colorful fruit. Sora couldn't quite place what had drawn him so deeply to this tree, whether it was the fact that it only grew there or just his own stubbornness wanting to prove itself. Regardless, it felt anticlimactic as he stood beneath it.

"Well?" Kairi's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Only then did he notice she'd hopped herself over to the tree and pulled herself up to sit on its tilted trunk. "Are you gonna stand there, or are we gonna try this fruit?"

He joined her side and stood under the star-shaped fruit. "I was just thinking, how do we know it's not poisonous?"

She shrugged, "We don't, but something tells me it isn't." Without further hesitation, she reached back and plucked one from the leaves.

Sora winced, feeling a bubble of guilt for ridding this tree of half of its harvest. As she offered the fruit to him, however, the guilt subsided into a sense of peace. They knew this was a one-time trip, and surely the tree would grow more fruit soon in the perfect environment. He picked the final fruit, sat beside her on the trunk, and extended it to her in return. The fruit she'd picked was much larger than his, and she smiled victoriously.

Instead of taking the fruit from his hand, she leaned her head down and bit from it.

The sight sent Sora's mind spiraling, compounded by the pleased look on her face as she took in the flavor. His eyes glanced down at her own offering staring him in the face. With a move like that, how could he not respond in kind?

The flavor burst onto his tongue immediately, and he understood Kairi's expression. It was sweet, unbelievably so even for an island fruit. A bite of tang danced across his mouth just enough to purse his lips a little. The flavor only deepened with each second, and this was only the first bite.

A pleasant aftertaste lingered, enough to leave him happy for the day, but when he opened his eyes to the woman beside him, he found his heart stuttering.

He knew her appearance, understood her cause, and had seen her in both joy and pain, yet as he took her in again, he saw much deeper into her as a person. It wasn't only understanding her, but knowing her, feeling her emotions right alongside her. Not only appreciating her beauty, but cherishing every inch of her. Not only tagging along with her mission, but desiring nothing more than to see it through to the end and beyond.

And based on her wide eyes, she was experiencing something similar.

"Sora…" She dared to speak, with an affectionate hint in her voice that drew him in further.

Sora blinked and shook his head. This was the woman who had him kidnapped to use for his abilities. She was a pirate.

A pirate who was kind and hospitable. And only raided those who committed evil. And cared for her crew. And was drop-dead gorgeous even after washing ashore a deserted island.

Her hand touched his arm and startled him. "You felt it too, didn't you?" she asked.

He couldn't even parse what had happened in his own mind, so how was he supposed to articulate it to her, whatever "it" was?

"Yeah," he responded as calmly as he could, turning away.

Her hand retreated. "Must just be something in the fruit." her voice had returned to normal.

He nodded, trying to convince himself that was the case. Even when each subsequent bite hadn't caused the same reaction as the first. Even when the sensation hadn't subsided hours after they'd returned to the main island.

Up until the very moment he admitted it to himself:

He didn't want to leave her side…

Because he was in love with her.

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A/N: This whole fic began when I asked myself, "What if two pirates reluctantly working together were stranded on a pre-civilization Destiny Islands, unknowingly shared paopu fruits, and intertwined their destinies forever?". Then of course I answered myself, "Yes, and make it SoKai," and it just kept building from there! There's still much more to happen though, so I hope you enjoy! Thank you for reading and leaving your feedback :)