#me dying at the end is me the entirety of making this

[hxnbi]

Hallooo I love your writing sm it’s literally so yummy٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶ Would it be possible to do a scenario with the boys in which reader calls them and it’s really vague (like maybe reader just got off from a fight and they’re really hurt and kind of loopy because of the blood loss or something but they’re not dying just taking a punch induced sleep (but the boys don’t know that LMAO)) and then just ends it with “I might not be able to come today, I love you” (imagine if the boys couldn’t pick their phone up at first so reader leaves a voice message 👀) (With suo if possible🙏(and maybe any of the other boys)) Once again thank you so much for making these works, they’re such a fun read٩( ᐛ )و

⸻ ❀°。❝ HIS WORLD IN A LOOP ❞

₊˚✿ pairings. hayato suo x gn. reader ₊˚✿ contents. reverse angst, comfort, fluff ₊˚✿ note. hope it was to your liking :)

SUO was busy that day, that was apparent. The entirety of Furin was dealing with a water leakage in the school as a result of a recent thunderstorm, and everyone, regardless of their commitments, volunteered to help patch up the school that was their meeting place, including Suo. 

Umemiya came up to him with a sheepish expression, musing, “Mannn, sorry about this you guys. Are you sure you all don’t have anything else to do?”

Mitsuki, finally pulling his head out of the clouds, looked up from his phone. “Hm? Oh, sure. But can I finish my game first? I’m almost past this round.”

Tsugeura, shouting it to the entirety of the classroom, declared, “I will help out as well! To restore the school to its former glory! That’s my virtue!”

‘He’s definitely dying young…’ everyone deadpanned.

Sakura narrowed his face into a grimace. “Then get to working instead of spitting nonsense, you lazy lump.”

“S-Sakura-san! Y-You can’t say that!!”

“What? Who says you can tell me what I can and can’t say?”

“Aww, don’t be such a jerk, Sakura-kun!” Suo chimed in.

“HUH?”

Hiragi, who was leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed, exhaled a sigh. “What about you, Suo?”

Suo shook his head. “If everyone else is pitching in to help, then it’s only right that I should, too," he said, flashing a smile that made Hiragi feel a sense of relief that there was at least one sane person in this room of madness.

Sakura, paying little attention, scoffed. “Figures. Of course, something like that would come out of your mouth.”

Hard labour followed as they all got to work, with blood, sweat, and tears being poured into their tasks. So much so, that, when Suo’s phone, which was in his pocket, rang, he could hardly even hear it. Rather, he attributed it to a hallucination. But seeing that it was your name on the caller ID, he excused himself almost instantly. 

He held the phone to his ear, “Hello?”

Silence. 

“Hello? Hello? Y/n? Are you alright?”

“...”

Silence again, but Suo could’ve sworn that he heard something else, and it didn't help his already confused state. Right as your voice came through in the most stomach-churning way imaginable.

“Hayato, I might not be able to come to the cafe today… I love you.”

And then the phone cut-off, making Suo’s face scrunch up in confusion. Suo was silent for a second, and then another. What on earth did you mean by that?! Suo could've sworn that he heard the sounds of ambulances from the other end of the phone, which didn’t exactly ease his worries, but it was as good a start as any. And so, that’s where he was going to go.

And after sweat and quite literal tears being shed, Suo arrived, and banged his heads onto the counter of the font desk. 

“Is a patient named y/n here?!”

The nurse nodded her head, typing rapidly on the monitor before directing him with a wave of her hand and a short message of where you were supposedly located.

The elevator ride felt excruciatingly long, all the while tapping his foot up and down in agitation—and the worried looks from the other people in the elevator (at a rather far distance, mind you) didn’t exactly calm his nerves.

“Hayato!" you lit up. "You’re here! Sorry about that, I called you earlier, but my phone cut off at th—”

But before you could mutter another word, Suo took you into his words, making the nurses and doctor quickly scramble out of the room so they didn’t ruin this “romantic moment.” Romantic moment in hell, perhaps.

“What happened? How did it happen? Did you fall? Where did you get all those injuries??” It was so unlike him to worry, and yet, you felt his concern seep through every word.

“I just tripped and fell face-first onto the ground! Nothing serious.” You exchanged a smile, in hopes to assure him that your jury wasn’t serious, but Suo begs to differ. But regardless, you continued to ramble. “The doctor told me that I’d be better as soon as in 24 hours, once I get some proper bed rest and medication.”

Suo’s entire face went pale. “How could you ever say that is enough for you to be fine?!? Do you not know that the ground you’re talking about is concrete?!”

“Well, now I do.”

“Y-You… You had me so worried,” he exhaled in and out with deep, laborious breaths, and who could blame him? For all he knew, he assumed that you were seriously hurt. “I thought…”

Gently, you placed your hand over his. “Oh, Hayato, you worry too much.”

He exhaled a sigh. “I’d argue that I don’t worry enough…”

“Don’t be such a worrywart,” you chuckled, remaining lighthearted. “Look! I can get up and walk just fine! Just watch me walk out of here with no problem!”

“Y-Y/n?! What are you doing?! Stay in bed!!!”

“Fine~” Doing what you were told, you sunk your body back into the mattress and blanket, which, admittedly, you found rather comfortable. You stifled a chuckle once you saw the expression on Hayato's face, a mix of exasperation, relief, and sweat that dripped from his forehead down to the ground

Seeing the chaotic scene that is you finally deciding to rest and taking a heartfelt breather, Suo collapsed back into his seat, leaning his head backwards and fixing the mess of his heart from the mess you made. “You’re lucky that I love you…”

You cracked a smile. “I know, Hayato. I know.”

Before long, you drifted off to sleep.

Suo hardly found it amusing, not when he was scared half to death that even he—someone usually so composed—could act this way over someone else. But then again, you were not just “someone else.”

Suo stifled a smile when you were asleep. His heart ached, and he gently reached out to caress your hand with both of his, careful as to not wake you. Holding your hand to his face, he felt the warmth of your soft, tender, yet bruised skin against his cheek.

He was just glad that you were okay...

With a tenderness that belied his usual enigmatic manner, he kissed your ring finger softly, his lips lingering close by as if to imprint the moment in his memory forever. A simple act filled with unexpressed affection that he could not bring himself to voice.

“You’re exhausting, but I love you so much…”

Unbeknownst to him, you weren’t fast asleep, nor were you dozing, but fully awake and dazed out of your mind from Suo’s sudden confession.

©hxnbi. comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated ♡

[lloydfrontera]

related to that last post that's kinda why i think cpsm revealing that javier had died three years earlier than lloyd is poignant in a very understated way.

javier's original fate was to live when everyone he cared about didn't. he was meant to be the protagonist of that world, to face all kind of threats and survive all of them, but with no one at his side.

he's the narrative's favorite but the narrative's love is not gentle and it is not kind and it will hold you close until you suffocate under its themes and parallels. for the world would bend itself for javier to be at it's center but it would not allow him the comfort of sharing that spot with anyone else.

he was always meant to be the last one standing. fate won't kill him but it won't allow him to die either.

and then comes lloyd with his plot breaking meddling saving everyone around them and shoving his way into the protagonist role, sharing the burden javier wasn't even aware he was carrying. and fate tries so hard to correct itself, it tries by all means possible to put things back the way they were meant to be, but in the end the best it can do is to try and make it so there will only be one main character in the world. the way it was always meant to be.

it concedes. it won't take away everything from its favorite anymore. but it won't stand for there to be two of them.

and the thing is. it wins. it gets what it wants. in the end javier can't save lloyd, he can't take his place, he can't keep him alive, he has to stand and watch him sacrifice himself for everyone else. for javier himself. in the end when the battle is over javier is again the last one standing.

when lloyd comes back and the fate restoration doesn't start up all over again, he thinks it's because lloyd frontera's original body disappeared and he came back in his own body. i don't think it was that. i think the reason fate didn't try to restore itself again is because it had already achieved what it wanted.

the narrative won. not completely. not the way it was originally meant to. but in the end javier ended up as the lone protagonist who watched his loved one die before his eyes.

only then was it satisfied and allowed javier to leave its grasp. only then was he allowed to become a person and not just the main character.

a person who could spend a lifetime with all of his loved ones and when the time came, die peacefully in his sleep, knowing at least the person he came to care the most about will outlive him. at least this time, he won't be the one left behind.

[sparrowposting]

Periklea/Illdaria Playlist, but it's just Mitski, aka, Clown Emotions

Never underestimate my ability to be extremely, embarrassingly earnest and emotional about things. I cried about a snail on the sidewalk the other week. I haven't had brainworms about an ttrpg/rpg/oc character like this in ages so here's the Periklea/Illdaria playlist I threatened, except it's just Mitski, in the spirit of this post. It's heavy on the angst because recency bias and who I am As A Person, and also, it's Mitski, but I wanted to get it in before the campaign ends. (Who knows? Things might turn out alright, and I am definitely not in Denial, my next character is going to be SO well adjusted and happy I am not going to Liam O'Brien this even tho he always makes my faves).

8tracks annotations I miss you so much, but I've restrained myself to just pulling lyrics, and not giving actual annotations to the campaign. Trust me, as impossible as it sounds, I CAN be even more embarrassing and cringe, I CAN and WILL read silly little emotional connections into every little word, 'the curtains are fuckin blue' people hate me. I make THEE most annoying character playlists, esp when it's wlw sadgirl hours.

Strawberry Blond - I love everybody because I love you / I don't need the city, and I don't need proof / All I need, darling, is a life in your shape / I picture it, soft and I ache  Francis Forever - I don't need the world to see / That I've been the best I can be, but I don't think I could stand to be / Where you don't see me / And autumn comes when you're not yet done / With the summer passing by  Pink in the Night - And I know I've kissed you before, but / I didn't do it right / Can I try again, try again, try again  The Only Heartbreaker - If you would just make one mistake / What a relief that would be / But I think for as long as we're together / I'll be the only heartbreaker [...] (I apologize) / (You forgive me) / (I apologize) / (You forgive me) And make me the only heartbreaker / So I'll be the only heartbreaker  Texas Reznikoff - It's somehow in the city / You make it there / And you make it anywhere, anywhere / But I've been anywhere / And it's not what I want / And I wanna be still with you  Thursday Girl - Glory, glory, glory to the night / It shows me what I am / I'm not happy or sad, just up or down / And always bad / Tell me no / Tell me no / Tell me no / Tell me no / Somebody please tell me no  The Deal - Now I'm taken, the night has me / You won't hear me singin' / You're a cage without me / Your pain is eased, but you'll never be free for / Now I'm taken, the night has me / There's a deal that I made / There's a deal that I made / There's a deal that I made / There's a deal  Why Didn't You Stop Me? - I know that I ended it, but / Why won't you chase after me? You know me better than I do / So why didn't you stop me?  Should've Been Me - I thought, "Must be lonely loving someone" / Tryna to find their way out of a maze [...] I haven't given you what you need /You wanted me but couldn't reach me / I'm sorry, it should've been me  A Horse Named Cold Air - I thought I'd traveled a long way / But I had circled / The same old sin  I Will - And we're not out of the tunnel / I bet you though there's an end Stay with me / Hold my hand / There's no need / To be brave / And while you sleep / I'll be scared /So by the time you wake / I'll be brave  Star - You know I'd always been alone / 'Til you taught me / To live for somebody / That love is like a star / It's gone, we just see it shining / 'Cause it's traveled very far, I'll / Keep a leftover light burning / So you can keep looking up / I am yours  Goodbye My Danish Sweetheart - There's nobody better than you / It took me a while 'til I knew / But you knew from the start it was us, didn't you? [...] And I don't blame you / If you want to bury me in your memory / I'm not the girl I ought to be, but / Maybe when you tell your friends / You can tell them what you saw in me / And not the way I am / And I don't mean to make your heart blue / But could we be what we're meant to be? / I'm just about to beg you, please  My Love Mine All Mine - Nothing in the world belongs to me / But my love mine, all mine, all mine / My baby, here on earth / Showed me what my heart was worth / So, when it comes to be my turn / Could you shine it down here for her?  Fireworks - One morning this sadness will fossilize / And I will forget how to cry / I'll keep going to work and you won't see a change / Save perhaps a slight gray in my eye [...] And then one warm summer night / I'll hear fireworks outside / And I'll listen to the memories as they cry, cry, cry  The Frost - You're my best friend / Now I've no one to tell / How I lost my best friend  I Guess - I guess, I guess, I guess this is the end / I'll have to learn to be somebody else / It's been you and me since before I was me / Without you I don't yet know quite how to live If I could keep anything of you / I would keep just this quiet after you / It's still as a pond / I am staring into / From here I can say / Thank you / From here I can tell you / Thank you 

[asidian]

This scene destroys me every time, but one incredible detail that I haven't seen anybody mention is the position of the bedding.

In the first shot, when Edwin arrives, we can see that Charles has taken one mattress and one blanket to huddle in the corner with them.

In the final shot, all of the bedding has been rearranged on the floor to make Charles' little blanket nest as Edwin reads to him.

But Charles spends the entirety of these scenes growing weaker with each passing shot. He's sitting upright and shivering, then leaning against the shelves and shivering, then leaning hard on a table and coughing as the internal damage starts to catch up to him, then leaning much harder on the shelves after the shivering has stopped (a bad sign when someone is hypothermic), then leaning so far down he's near reclined, then finally lying flat on the floor amidst the bedding.

My point is, by the time that final scene comes around, Charles doesn't have the strength left to have moved the bedding for himself anymore.

That was Edwin. Edwin sat with this dying boy, and brought him light, and made him laugh. And when the end was near, he made him a blanket nest on the floor, so that he could die in comfort while someone read him off to sleep.

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

Pure as the Driven Snow || Tom Blyth x Singer!reader

Summary: You surprise Tom as you sing Pure as the Driven Snow at a concert that he watches.

Warnings: none :)

Wc: 678

Tom Blyth x singer!reader au masterlist

Divider by @pommecita

You’ve had the idea for quite a while now after watching the new Hunger Games with Tom. Rachel even thought it was a great idea as you practiced the song with her without Tom knowing.

You were at a concert in London, Tom slightly to the side of the crowd as he watches you like the supportive boyfriend he is. The crowd screamed the second you stepped on stage as you performed your songs with them, Tom singing along as he takes videos and photos of you.

Just as everyone thought the concert was going to end, Tom included, you speak up. “I have a little surprise for everyone,” You smile as you hear cheers, “I’m going to sing one final song,” You say as you grab your guitar.

You look directly at Tom as you start playing the tunes to the song as the crowd erupts in screams, immediately recognising the tune you were playing. Tom stood there stunned.

“Everyone’s born as clean as a whistle,” You sing into the mic as you close your eyes, really feeling the music. Tom’s eyes never left you. He watched with a smile during the entirety of the song as he couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest man in the world.

“I’ve taken some hits, so no wonder I’m wary, It’s why, I need you,” You direct your gaze at Tom who looks at you with so much love in his eyes. Fans catch the interactions between the two lovers as they record it and take photos, going absolutely crazy. “You’re as pure as the driven snow,”

Tom takes a moment to feel his cheeks, they were hot as he smiles like a silly man at you. He had no idea that you were going to sing this at all. “This world goes blind when children are dying, I turn into dust but you never stop trying,”

You were an incredibly talented singer, everyone knew that. Your voice was perfection, perfect for this song as if it was made for you to sing. Your singing entranced everyone in the crowd, including Tom. “It’s why, I love you,” You once again direct your entire body towards Tom. “you’re as pure as the driven snow,”

You couldn’t help but slightly let out a laugh as you sing when Tom blows kisses at you. Fans caught this on camera as they screamed, finding the two of you so wholesome. The moment you finish the song, Tom wastes no time on running up on stage and sweeping you up from your feet, you giggle in pure bliss.

“I loved it,” He says in your ear over the loudness of the crowd. “I love you,” You take either side of his face in your hands as you stare at each other before he kisses you deeply. You almost got carried away until you remembered you had a crowd of hundreds watching the both of you.

~

“Tom, everyone knows how your girlfriend, Y/n Abrams sang one of the songs from the movie, Pure as the Driven Snow was it? At her latest concert, can you tell us a little more about it?” Tom rubs his jawline as a smile makes it to his face, the memory of you singing that song to him still fresh on his mind.

“Yes uh well first of all, caught me by surprise that’s for sure,” He chuckles. “I’m a lucky man, she made me fall even more in love with her if that is even possible,” He admits as the interviewer smiles at him.

“Made you fall in love with me even more?” Was the first thing you say when Tom picks up the call. You hear silence on the other end before you hear his laugh, making you smile. “It’s true what I said darling,” Tom huskily says as you play with the ring he gave you on your finger.

“When are you coming back home, I miss you,” Tom could hear the pout through your voice as he chuckles. “On my way home right now, sweetheart.”

[medusas-graveyard]

Loved By Time

Part 1

An idea that has been plaguing me (that, mind you, entirely deviates from canon) is an au where instead of dying due to The Accident™, Danny becomes a 'bridge' between the living and the dead. In a sense of yes, he's still affected by Ectoplasm, could be mistaken as an Ecto-entity, could place curses and spells, but by entirety is just a guide or psychopomp, whereas he could ask help and favors from every ghost in an exchange of his help or something else.

His official title would be a 'Grave Keeper' because, well, yk.

But another problem arises; Danny is human. His rogues are not. His rogues are not aware that he's human, because he could keep up with them. (barely.) So when he gets actually, genuinely, critically injured— almost dying for real, they realize how awfully human he is; that he's really just a kid trying to not die, they make a relapse on judgement.

So he grew up surrounded by ghosts and even appointed as the Royal Archivist after he helped seal Pariah Dark. All is well.

And then his sister and friends were killed.

Naturally, he avoids Vlad's attempt on housing him like the plague.

Fortunately or unfortunately, he was placed within the care of a nicer looking fruitloop over in Gotham.

...

Ehhh...the worst that could happen is him ending up dead.

&—

Read: Part 2

[oreoluvskento]

choso calling you mommy???

a/n: been thinking about this for dayyssssss, i had to give yall a taste, I NEED ITTTTTTT, I NEED HIM BADDDDDD

wc: 596

cw: female reader, wrote with black reader in mind but no mention of specific race, use of mommy, no use of y/n, handjobs, blowjobs, mention of face sitting (literally one time at the very end), choso is a good boy, reader is a dommy mommy

~~~

"is this enough, cho?" you ask sarcastically as you stroke your boyfriend's dick agonizingly slow.

"pleasee, you know its not enough," he whines, trying to thrust his hips up and you immediately let go. he groans at the loss of contact and you smile sadistically.

"you know what i want to hear," you sing, running your finger up and down his weeping cock. choso shudders at the sensation and rolls his eyes once he accepts what he has to do.

"mommy, please give me more," he deadpans and you frown. you take his dick in your hand and hold onto to it tight as you suddenly begin to stroke him quickly, taking him by surprise.

"say it like you mean it, cho. did you forget how well you did for me last time?" you ask, your pace unrelenting.

choso hisses and reaches out to grab your wrist when you begin jerking him off again. "ahhh, mommy, 's too fast, i'm going to cum early," he cries and you let go.

he's stuck jerking his hips up, the pleasure slowly but surely dying down. "now was that so hard?" you ask him, leaning down to kiss his tip. you lick your lips of the precum that stained them and lean in to give him a kiss.

he kisses you back, lips trembling at your constant teasing. "you want mommy to suck your cock?" you ask against his lips and he begins to nod furiously, his eyebrows furrowed. "use your words baby, let me hear you"

"i want mommy to suck my cock," he sheepishly admits and you sit back, taken by surprise.

"such a good boy!" you exclaim as you clap your hands. choso blushes as he looks away from you, but you noticed his cock jump and it makes you smile to yourself. you make your way in between his legs and lay down, looking up at him through your lashes. "i'll tap your thigh when i'm ready for you to cum, okay cho?"

he nods again, his bottom lip in his mouth as you lick a stripe up his cock, gathering precum at the tip of your tongue. without warning, you engulf the entirety of his dick into your mouth, pushing it straight into your throat, and choso jerks his hips up at the sudden pleasure.

"fuuucckkk, mommy, thats so good," he whimpers as you bob your head. the sounds that were coming out of you were so wet and loud, it was pushing him even closer to his orgasm.

choso grips the sheets hard as he tries not to cum, his toes curled and his chest heaving. you watch as his abdomen caves in and out and you know he's close. you tap his thigh, signaling for him to cum, and he begins breathing harder.

"thank you mommy, thank you, thank you, thank youuuuu," he moans hoarsely, as he cums, shooting cum straight down your throat. his orgasm last a while, his voice making sounds so pathetic you think you might cum just from hearing them.

as choso regains his sanity, he realizes that you're still sucking him off and that he's beginning to feel overstimulated. "'s too much, please- ah mommy please!" he whines and you finally pull away with a pop.

"that felt good? you liked that, cho'?" you ask as you wipe your mouth. you place your hand on his cheek and he leans into it, his eyes closed.

"mhm," he hums and you smile and give him a quick kiss.

"good, baby. now let mommy ride your face."

pt. 2?

[locked-tomb-shenanigans]

Listen I’m sure someone has already talked about this scene, and way better than I ever could, but it makes me so feral and I need to talk about it too

This is hands down the most depressing scene in the entirety of NtN in my opinion.

Surface level it’s Gideon yelling at Crux, but the significance here comes from the exact word choice. “You could have lived for her. But you didn’t know how.”

She uses past tense.

It’s not about Crux (who arguably did live for Harrow, considering his purpose was raising and protecting her, and could by all means still do this if he changed his mind about dying for Harrow.) It’s not about the congregation who worshipped her.

It’s about Gideon, who can’t live for Harrow anymore, because she’s dead. It’s about the promise she broke at the end of the first book. She’s talking about herself.

Harrow made her promise that when it comes down to it, Gideon needs to save herself. If only one of them can survive, it has to be Gideon.

At the end of the first book, Harrow is actively planning to sacrifice herself so Gideon can live, bringing up the promise and then diving into what this is actually about. Namely, how she owes Gideon her life back.

And Gideon breaks that promise, instead deciding to sacrifice herself for Harrow.

“I can’t keep my promise because the entire point of me is you. There is no me without you.”

Gideon doesn’t know how to live for Harrow, how to exist without her, even though it’s the most important thing Harrow ever asked of her—and so she dies for her instead.

“You could have lived for her. But you didn’t know how.”

And the sacrifice ended up being rejected by Harrow, because it’s not what Harrow wanted. It never was. So Gideon ended up feeling rejected and like her life and giving it up wasn’t worth anything. And she still immediately offers herself up again without hesitation. She’s ready to die for Harrow all over again, even now that she’s already dead.

“Die. Die for her. It’s the only goddamn good you’ll ever do her.”

Gideon is fucking furious—so much that Nona can’t even place her voice anymore—but not at any of the people who would rightfully deserve her fury. Not at Crux. She’s furious at herself. This whole scene is so damn heartbreaking to me.

And out of all the cruel things Crux has done to Gideon throughout her life, this might be the worst one: telling the girl who died for the Reverend Daughter once and was ready to die for her a second time that she couldn’t even get that right. That she managed to screw up the one purpose she was actually supposed to serve, the only good she’s ever done for Harrow.

Gideon is dead. She can’t do what Harrow asked and live for her anymore. What the hell is she supposed to do if she can’t die for her, either?

[scaredpigeons]

Aqua Regia — experimentation is for the bold.

Read Aqua Regia // masterlist

Neuvillette x Fem!reader x Wriothesley (heavy heavy wriothesley x neuvillette)

Word count: 8.6k

After being married for a few years, your husband asks if you’d be willing to… experiment a little within your intimate life. Your best friend wriothesley is happy to help.

WARNING: SMUT, NSFW 18+ MDNI

CW: m/m/f threesome, m/f and m/m sex. Wriothesley fucks you and your husband. possessiveness(neuvi), danger kink(wrio), growling, slamming into walls, making out, vaginal fingering, anal fingering(male rec), vaginal sex, anal sex(male rec), Neuvillettes inhuman tongue, mentions of Neuvillettes dragon dicks, biting, minor mentions of blood at the end, clitoral stimulation, teasing.

Authors note: okay, okay. Listen. Listen. I had to, okay? Look— it doesn’t have to be AR canon if you’re not into it. It’s not imperative to the plot. It was just so eaaaaasssyyyyyyyyyy. No, Wriothesley isn’t joining the marriage, it’s not becoming a thing, but I am a firm believer that people can fuck their besties if they wanna and it can be chill. Fuck your besties!!! Especially if they look like wriothesley!!! Let your boy best friend fuck your husband!!! Especially if your husband looks like Neuvillette!!

“Have you ever had sex with a man?”

Wriothesley spit his tea across the entirety of his desk, soaking the morning paper crossword puzzle he was half paying attention to.

“I’m sorry, what?” He sputtered, wiping the leftover tea from his mouth and gaping at you with his blue eyes wide.

You simply shrugged, pretending like his reaction wasn’t the most hilarious thing you’ve seen in months. Though, you were expecting him to react something like that.

He was your best friend, but you’d never really talked about either of your sex lives before, mostly because you didn’t have a sex life before Neuvillette, and you always felt too awkward to talk about these things with Wriothesley.

The past couple years with Neuvillette had really whittled down your self consciousness on the subject though, and your more recent conversations with your husband had left you quite curious.

“Just a question, you don't have to answer if you’re not comfortable talking about it though.” You said, nonchalantly sipping your tea, trying to hide the grin threatening its way into your cheeks.

“No, no.” He said, rolling his neck as if the shock of the moment had put a crick in it. “You just caught me off guard, that’s all. You just… don’t ever talk about this kinda stuff.”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d be comfortable discussing it with me, that's all.” You said, setting your tea down. “That and— up until Neuvillette, I didn’t really have any experience to speak of.”

He rolled his eyes. Wriothesley often joked about how gross you and your husband were. Flirting when no one was paying attention, stolen glances across the room, poorly concealed marks on your bodies— he called you shameless, teasing you but never prying.

“Well I mean, some people may find it a bit awkward, talking about the sex life of their two best friends… who happened to be married to one another…” he said.

”Do you?” You said, tone light and teasing, almost as if challenging him. “Find it awkward?”

“Not really,” he grinned. “Actually I’ve been dying to know what he’s got going on, y’know… with the whole dragon thing.” Wriothesley made a lewd gesture towards his crotch as he spoke, making you laugh.

“Ah ah, I asked first, your questions can come later.” You teased.

He chuckled, rolling his eyes again. “Fine, fine. The answer is yes, I’ve done almost everything under the sun with as many different kinds of people as there are out there.”

“Your Grace!” You said in a mock fluster. “How scandalous! What would the people say if they knew the Duke of Meropide was such a common whore!”

”Hey!” He laughed, taking your teasing just as intended. “Just because I’m not interested in a long term relationship doesn’t mean I need to be abstinent! Let a man enjoy the simple pleasures in life, you prude.”

You snorted, covering your mouth a bit as you tried not to laugh harder, Wriothesley’s wide grin and accusatory index finger pointing at you wasn't helping.

“What’s your, uh— preference in role when it comes to that type of sex?” You asked once you’d calmed down a bit.

He snorted again, making your laughter bubble back up and threaten to burst out once more.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “it's just so funny to try and see you talk about this shit.”

“Answer me!” You giggled, trying to brush him off. “I’m trying my best, here!”

He cleared his throat, attempting to take the conversation a little more seriously. “I’ve done both, and I favor neither one nor the other. It all depends on the partner, really.”

Not that you’d ever really entertained the thought of what Wriothesley looked and acted like in bed, but you could very easily picture him in a more dominant role, taking charge and leading the experience with a well practiced hand.

But picturing him in a more submissive role? Being the receiver, his broad shoulders pressed into luxurious blankets, large hands reaching up to grasp at long, silky white hair as he—

Oh. You were getting ahead of yourself.

You took the time to clear your own throat and calm your heated cheeks, trying to keep a proper posture.

“What is your opinion on people having casual sex with close friends?” You said, trying to keep your tone level and casual, as to not expose your nerves and ruin the entire conversation. If things took a sour turn, you could easily play it off as morbid curiosity.

He seemed to answer without really thinking. “I mean, I personally don’t see a problem with it, as long as everyone is consenting and, you know… chill.”

You rolled your eyes at his ridiculous and frequent use of cryo puns. You swear he did it just to get a rise out of you sometimes.

But he suddenly paused, most likely connecting some dots, as you figured he would.

“If I didn’t know any better, I might think this illustrious personal assistant was propositioning me on behalf of the Iudex, which would never happen,” his eyes thinned, turning a bit dark, but you could see the remnants of a grin threatening their way onto his face once more. “Would it?”

“Quite preposterous in theory, for sure.” You bit the inside of your cheek, refusing to meet his eyes and instead taking a delicate sip of your tea, proper and poise. “Though in practice it might not be so improbable.”

Wriothesley’s eyes glimmered as he leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers together and watching you avoid his gaze.

He made a noise of affirmation before clicking his tongue against his teeth. “Yes, yes. Well, even so, I would find it hard to believe, considering everyone in Fontaine is aware of how devoted the honorable Iudex is to his most beloved wife.”

“Yes, well.” You sat your teacup down, eyeing the rows of books he kept while willing the heat from your cheeks. “One does not live life without developing… curiosities. And perhaps his beloved wife is curious too? It’s not so obscene to imagine.”

Wriothesley tilted his head, and out of the corner of your eyes you caught him licking his lips.

“Obscene isn’t the word I’d use when imagining it, that’s for sure.”

———————

“Are you sure about this?” He asks.

“You know you can say the word at any time and this doesn’t have to continue,” You add.

“Exactly.” Wriothesley agreed. “I’m here to do what you want, there’s no expectations. I won’t be upset or offended, literally anything that happens tonight will not affect our relationship whatsoever.”

Your heart thudded against your ribcage as you watched Neuvillette look between the two of you.

Sitting down in the living room with Wriothesley and your husband was a common occurrence, many nights of cards and drinks and laughs were shared here. But tonight was very different, the air seemed electro-charged and the fire crackling in its stone fireplace was only adding more distracting noise to the sound of your heart beat thrumming through your eardrums. Could Neuvillette hear it so loudly too?

Neuvillettes eyes still danced between the two of you, and his brow raised slightly as if in disbelief.

“You are both aware that I was the one who initially proposed this idea, correct?” He asked, slow and steady as if to make sure the words really resonated. “It would be rather foolish of me to ask something like this of the two of you, only to change my mind at the last second. Unless… you both are having second thoughts on the matter?”

Both you and Wriothesley tried to express your refusal of such an accusation at the same time, making the two of you chuckle at each other with your eagerness.

“It’s not us, it’s just…” Wriothesley paused, making a circling gesture with his spread hands, as if he was trying to gather the thoughts he couldn’t quite conjure.

“My love, you have a tendency to be a bit…” you started, looking for the right phrase to not offend him too terribly much.

“Sometimes you can come across a little…” Wriothesley looked at you, cringing a bit as he hoped you would finish as if to soften the blow.

You sighed, deciding to just come right out and say it.

”Possessive.” You said. “You can be quite possessive.”

Neuvillette only nodded, seemingly unaffected.

“It is true that I can be rather possessive of my wife, as is in a dragon's nature to protect their mate, to guard their treasures carefully.” He looked to you. “Though I don’t see how that would be a problem in this situation?”

”My darling, you growled at that tea seller from Liyue when he tried to offer me a discount.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I did not enjoy the way his eyes were roaming all over your body, as if you were some kind of confectionary treat to drool over.”

“You’ve almost broken my hand just for touching her arm.” Wriothesley deadpans.

“Unrelated.” Neuvillette huffs. “I was experiencing a fluctuation in elemental energy when the full power of the hydro sovereign was returned to its rightful owner. Any irresponsible choices I might have made during that time can be written off as flukes, one time mistakes, nothing more.”

“Any irresponsible choices like, for example, courting your personal assistant without the knowledge that she was aware that was what you were doing?” Wriothesley stood from his chair, rounding the little end table that held your books to stand behind the armchair you were perched on, facing Neuvillette on the couch.

You could see the tips of your husbands ears glow red in the firelight, and you suppressed the urge to giggle when he clicked his tongue against his teeth.

“Nonsense.” He looked at you, and his eyes softened. “The decision to court you may not have been a very well thought out one, but it was a decision I will stand by for the rest of my existence.”

You flushed. He always found a way to make your heart flutter. You were so in love with this man— dragon— you were in love with your husband, and it seemed his devotion to you was an endless pool as well.

“Well, if it's unrelated, you should have no problem with me touching her again now, hmm?” Wriothesley said behind you, and you froze a bit in shock. You didn’t think he would start this so soon, but better to get going naturally, yes? Surely if you tried to talk about it forever, it would never happen.

His large, still wrapped up hands slid down your arms, fingertips dragging along your exposed skin until he was bent over the back of the chair, nuzzling into the side of your neck. His index fingers smoothed over the insides of your wrists as he breathed in your scent, a soothing gesture surely— but it only served to rile you up even more.

You looked up at Neuvillette and involuntarily whimpered at how strained he looked. His eyes were dark, menacing. His gloved hands were gripping the edge of the couch, straining the fabric as if it was seconds away from tearing and exposing the cushion. He looked like he was about to pounce, a murderous glare trained on where Wriothesley was touching you, breathing you in.

“You smell so sweet tonight, is that a new perfume?” Wriothesley whispered, making sure his breath ghosted over your ear, causing you to shiver.

“Yes,” you squeaked, still watching Neuvillette watch you.

“Just for me?” You caught him flashing that cheeky grin in your peripherals. “You shouldn’t have.”

His hands smoothed up and down your forearms, his lips barely ghosting along your throat, the tease of it all making you breathless.

“You seem far too comfortable doing such things with your best friend, Your Grace.” Neuvillettes' tone was dark, his voice was steady and smooth like usual, but there was an underlying madness creeping around the edges of his words that set your skin on fire. “Should I be concerned?”

Wriothesley pressed his smile against the sensitive skin beneath your ear, not quite a kiss but it ripped a growl from Neuvillette’s chest all the same.

“It’s fun to play pretend sometimes, isn’t it?” The Duke whispered your name softly in your ear, and you could see his eyes dip up to finally look at Neuvillette. “We can play pretend for a little while… can’t we, doll?”

You met Neuvillettes gaze. He was livid, yes. But there was a flush on his cheekbones that wasn’t there before— a heaviness to his breath that didn’t seem to come from his anger. You nodded to Wriothesley.

“I haven’t even touched you properly yet and he looks like he’s about to burst.” Wriothesley chuckled, low and breathy in your ear, but loud enough that you were sure your husband could hear. “Tell your puppy to heel, hmm? I’m just trying to get the fun started.”

Your thighs clenched together, heat pooling to your core in droves as you watched Neuvillette, all while receiving Wriothesley’s gentle and teasing ministrations.

“Neuvillette—“ you gasped as Wriothesley moved his hands to your thighs, blowing cool air in your ear. “Are you… still okay?”

Wriothesley’s warm palms gripped onto the plush of your thighs, making your legs spread almost on their own, a natural response to the kind of feelings stirring inside you, but it still made you squirm knowing it wasn’t your husband who brought such a response from you.

Neuvillette still hadn’t responded, but you figured he would voice his concerns if he truly had any. He looked as though he was fighting against all instincts, but from a quick peek to the crotch of his pants—you could tell he was just as excited as you were.

Your hips bucked up and arms tensed as Wriothesley kissed you gently on the junction between your neck and shoulder, your thinly strapped top giving him easy access to plenty of skin.

“So responsive…” Wriothesley groaned. “Aren’t you just a little treat for me.”

You bit your bottom lip as his kiss turned wet, his tongue dragging across your skin with each press of his lips.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you whined when he nibbled on your jawline, making your hands grip the arms of the chair even tighter as his hands continued their leisurely strokes on the tops of your thighs, fingertips only slightly teasing the fabric covering the inner flesh here and there.

“Such pretty little noises too,” Wriothesley said, bringing his fingertips further into the flesh of your inner thighs on the next stroke of his hands, watching the way Neuvillette lurched at the sound of your whimpers. “Does she make such pretty noises for you too, Iudex?”

Neuvillettes voice was chipped at the edges, wavering and dark, anger and lust and all other conflicting emotions swirling in the syllables as he growled out into the firelight flickering along the dark walls.

“My touch commands sounds more beautiful than you will ever pull from her, I can assure you that.”

“That sounds like a challenge to me, Monsieur.” Wriothesley was pushing it, he really was. You were honestly shocked at how well Neuvillette was handling himself thus far, but there had to be a breaking point.

The Duke of Meropide looked your Husband dead in the eyes (you only knew he did because you watched as Neuvillette met his gaze, his pupils thinning into tiny slivers,) and dragged his fingertips up your thighs, bringing his left and to press his middle and ring fingers deeply along the seam of your pants— the seam directly covering your aching core.

Your cunt throbbed at the attention and you cried out, a little startled but mostly just overwhelmed at such a heavy and sensual touch after all the light teasing.

As quickly as the touch was there it was ripped away, your body jolting back in shock as Neuvillette was suddenly upright, bolting across the few feet between the chair and couch to push Wriothesley away from you, making the Duke stumble backwards a few steps.

If he pressed him back where he stood, his back would surely collide with the bookshelves behind him, and somewhere in his instinct driven lizard brain he must have realized that, so he grabbed Wriothesley by the lapels on his vest and hauled him against the wall perpendicular to the shelves, which happened to line up quite nicely with your field of view as you turned around in the chair.

You sat on your knees and gripped the edge of the chair back as you watched them. Their profiles illuminated by the stone fireplace, the breaths in their chests heaving as they looked at each other.

Wriothesley was no small man, but he seemed so tiny as Neuvillette loomed over him, his eyes blazing down and piercing into the Duke.

“Your impudence knows no bounds, does it, little boy?” Neuvillette growled.

Oh.

Oh, did that ever do something for you.

Wriothesley cheekily grinned under his murderous glare, looking up at him without a care in the world— like one of the most powerful beings in Teyvat wasn’t pressing him up against a wall, looking like he wanted to tear him limb from limb.

Or maybe that's exactly why he looked so happy. Wriothesley used to be a bit of an adrenaline junky, didn’t he? Nothing crazy, just jumping into the water from high cliffs, picking fights with bullies much bigger than him, that sort of thing. You figured that spark must’ve died down since his sentencing to the Fortress, but it looks like it was still alive and well, glimmering up at your husband.

“Oh,” Wriothesley breathed, shifting his knee up in between Neuvillettes thighs. “I know plenty of ways to disrespect the honorable Iudex, if he’d like me to show him.”

Neuvillette let loose a sound halfway between a growl and a moan as Wriothesley pressed his thigh into Neuvillette a little harder, grinding against what was surely an aching erection.

“Or would he rather disrespect me?” Wriothesley’s breath was heaving in his chest as he pulled Neuvillettes hands from his lapel to his throat, steadying his grip there as he moved closer, pressing further. You watched as his gaze flickered from Neuvillettes eyes to his lips, before that sinful tongue came out and absentmindedly swiped across his own bottom lip.

And that was all it took.

Neuvillette crashed into him in a flurry of teeth and tongues as he devoured Wriothesley, pinning him further against the wall with his slender hands cupping around his throat.

You gaped as Neuvillette managed to slip a knee between Wriothesley’s legs now, and you nearly moaned he ground his hips against the duke, the tents in their pants pressing against each other's hips. Every few strokes they would bump into each other until Neuvillette must have decided that he preferred when they did, because he shifted until they were pressing against each other's cocks with every grind of their hips, making Wriothesley whimper out a pitiful sound that had you feeling your heartbeat pounding between your legs.

The Duke managed to pull his arms up and over Neuvillettes shoulders, wrapping his hands around the back of your husbands neck, pulling him closer as they devoured one another.

Their breaths were heavy, the grinding of their hips making you squeeze your thighs together as you watched them. You had half a mind to think that maybe you were a bit perverted for enjoying this so much, but the other half was too enraptured by the sight in front of you and the wetness pooling in your underthings to worry too much about it.

“You kiss—“ Wriothesley breathed between kisses, “—like it's a conquest.”

Neuvillette growled, pressing himself closer, squeezing the sides of Wriothesley’s throat in warning. “Only when I have a partner so desperate to be conquered.”

Neuvillette moved his hands in favor of sucking and nibbling along the exposed skin of Wriothesley’s jawline and throat, nibbling between the black wrappings and making the Duke’s knees shudder while he moaned.

His eyes caught yours where you sat and a grin pushed its way onto his heated face.

“Look at your little wife, Monsieur.”

Neuvillette turned his head, and his pupils dilated in the firelight as he caught you so shamelessly staring, face flushed and thighs surely squeezing together.

“Bedroom.” He said, voice leveling out but having no less of its ever commanding tone.

“Bedroom.” You squeaked, nodding as you nearly fell off the chair.

—————————

“I never imagined that Madame Neuvillette would be so shameless…” Wriothesley breathed in your ear as you squirmed in his lap, head lolling back onto your husband's shoulder as the Iudex sucked along your throat from where he sat behind you.

Your clothes were long tossed off, and you pulled at Wriothesley’s tie and hand wrappings, desperate to expose more of his skin. Wriothesley chuckled and moved to take it all off, his coat and vest long since discarded into the darkened corners of your bedroom.

Satisfied with Wriothesley following your needy directions, you reached over your own shoulders to pull at your husband's shirt, wanting to feel his bare skin pressing against your own.

“My love…” you whined. “More, more— I wanna feel you.”

Neuvillette brought his fingertips to your mouth, and you whined as you pinched the tip of his glove in between your teeth, holding on as he slipped his hand from the offending fabric. He brought his other hand up to do the same, and you watched as Wriothesley’s pupils blew wide at the movement.

Your tongue lolled out of your mouth as you dropped the gloves in your lap, looking at Wriothesley with a face that was surely more lewd than he’d ever seen on you before.

Finally, his upper body was bare, and your hands roamed the wide expanse of his scarred skin.

“Kiss me?” You asked, looking at him through your lashes.

“What kinda question is that?” Wriothesley grinned as he leaned up to capture your lips. He tasted like tea, and a vague hint of your husband's lips from their earlier tryst downstairs.

You moaned as the duke's hands caressed your waist and cupped your breasts, his hips rocking up into you as your tongues danced together, messy and uncoordinated but so enjoyable.

Wriothesley pulled back and his eyes flickered behind you before a pained expression washed over his face.

“Damn it. Fuck. That’s so fuckin’ unfair.” The duke whined.

You looked back to see your husband shirtless, finally. You knew exactly what Wriothesley was whining about too.

Neuvillette was always beautiful, but all his finery and fabrics hid just how stunning he actually was.

His pale skin was flawless, glowing in the moonlight streaming in your bedroom window. His shoulders were broad, arms sculpted and showcasing the odd blue veins here and there. His abdominals were strong and lean, his trim waist dipped into his hips with a perfect v cut that drew your eyes directly towards the light speckling of hair that trailed below his navel. He had the body of a strong swimmer, he had the body of a being so beautiful not even the gods could compare.

He was stunning, he never failed to take your breath away even after years of the privilege of seeing him this way.

“I know exactly what you mean,” you pouted as you looked at him over your shoulder.

Neuvillettes long silky hair fell over his shoulder as he leaned in to crowd you against Wriothesley, his bare hands tipped in the faintest pale blue— the element he commanded pulsing through him too powerful to stay hidden away— running along Wriothesley’s sides to paw greedily at his chest, his arms caging you in and forcing you deeper into the dukes lap.

“You both act as if your forms do not beget a reaction so feral and obscene that it makes ones insides shudder in anticipation.” Neuvillette growled, his fingers trailing through the dark hairs coating Wriothesley’s chest.

Wriothesley groaned as you reached down to join your husband's perusal of his chest. Neuvillette was right about one thing at least— as beautiful as your dragon sovereign was, Wriothesley was a different sort of attractive altogether.

Wriothesley was thick. All broad shoulders and corded muscle, large arms that looked like they could pick you up and toss you across a room without issue. His waist didn’t cut in as narrow as Neuvillettes, his abdominals less defined, but you could still see the strength in him tense as you ran your hands across his body. Scarred, marked by his past tribulations and coated in a speckling of hair that just screamed that rugged sort of sexy that made your mouth water.

“Fuck,” the duke said, tossing his head back as Neuvillette ran his nails from chest to navel. “Is he always so quick with the flowery dirty talk?”

You smiled, squirming down on his lap, surely making a mess of the front of his pants. “You act like it didn’t make your cock jump.”

You bit your lip and moaned as Wriothesley grinned and bucked his hips up against your cunt as punishment.

Neuvillette leaned closer, his head dipping above your shoulder to mouth at Wriothesley’s jawline as you were squeezed between them, helpless and turned on with the Duke's erection pressing at your core and your husbands twitching against your ass.

“Your insistence on tormenting my wife will not go unchecked, Your Grace.” Neuvillette whispered as his hands pawed at the Duke's chest once more.

You could hear Wriothesley’s breath hitch as you squirmed further into his lap, and you felt your husband grab and squeeze at him while dragging nibbling kisses along his throat and jawline.

“You’re so fucking good, Neuvillette, shit—“ Wriothesley moaned, stumbling over his words a bit. “Damnit— I want to fuck you so badly.”

Everything seemed to still for a moment. Neuvillette leaned back, letting you look at Wriothesley’s flushed face and heaving chest. His cock was straining against his pants beneath you, you could feel it twitching as he looked up at both of you.

“Do you really?” Neuvillette asked.

“Wha— what?” Wriothesley breathed.

“Do you want to fuck him?” You said, sounding equally as breathless.

Wriothesley seemed confused for a moment, before his eyes darted between the two of you, his face still tinged pink.

“With the way things were going… I figured he’d be the one to— but if you—“

“Do you want to fuck Neuvillette, Wriothesley?” You asked, lowering your tone into something more sultry as you looked at him through heavy lashes.

“Fuck—“ he groaned, his eyes rolling back a bit. “Fuck yes. Yes— you have no idea.”

You both slid off of him, and Neuvillette grabbed at his thighs to pull his legs to the edge of the bed. You sat beside the Duke, watching intently as your husband lowered himself to the ground between Wriothesleys knees.

Wriothesley sat up, looking at the Iudex on his knees in front of him, and his face suddenly turned a whole new shade of red.

“You don’t have to— I mean, I said I was—“

“I want to try. Let me try it?” Neuvillettes' tone was a lot softer now that Wriothesleys hands weren’t actively on you, and you knew that would be the case.

Wriothesley propped himself up with his hands behind him. “Fuck, yes. Yes— okay.”

You leaned over to help Neuvillette undo Wriothesley pants, wanting an up close look at the way his face would change when he saw Wriothesley’s cock. And he did not disappoint you.

His eyes widened and pupils dilated as Wriothesley’s cock burst from its confines, the weight of it making it droop a bit to the side instead of smacking against his stomach. You felt your own mouth water at the sight of it. He was long and obscenely thick, you think he was perhaps even thicker than your husband, and you could see the way Neuvillettes gaze took it in, watching the gears turn in his mind as he realized he was going to try and fit this thing inside him.

A taste of your own medicine, much? You wanted to snicker.

Neuvillettes eyes dipped over to you, a look of hesitation flickering across his features. You smiled down at him, reaching a hand to card your fingers through his hair.

“Take it slowly, darling. You know what feels good, just let yourself have fun with it, okay?” You said.

He looked to Wriothesley, who just silently nodded in agreement, hands fisting the blankets and staring in almost disbelief at Neuvillette between his legs.

Finally, finally, Neuvillette leaned in and let his hot and wet tongue lick up Wriothesley’s shaft before releasing its inhuman length out to curl lewdly around the head of it, lapping up the pre-come dripping from the tip.

Wriothesley shuddered, his eyes widening even more as a desperate sound of shock was ripped from his throat, and he pulled away, scurrying himself back up the bed.

“OH!— okay okay OHkay—“ he yelped as he scrambled back. “If we keep doing that shit I’ll be done in five seconds flat. What the fuck?”

You giggled, looking at Neuvillettes' disappointed pout as Wriothesley panted beside you.

“Yeah, I had about the same reaction the first time too— though I let him keep going.”

Wriothesley sighed. “Yeah well— I said I was going to fuck him.”

The Duke shuffled out of his pants fully, tossing them on the floor. His thick thighs flexing as he kneeled on the bed.

“Sorry, sorry. We can try that again another time.” He took a deep breath, grounding himself. “If it pleases the honorable Iudex, I’d have him lie on the bed and make himself comfortable.”

Neuvillette eyed the cock still hanging hard between Wriothesley’s thighs, but listened without complaint, laying himself down on the pillows.

“Good.” Wriothesley said, the flush in his cheeks slowly dying down to something more reasonable.

He crawled closer, kneeling in between Neuvillettes spread legs, eyeing him for signs of discomfort as he slowly reached for the buttons of his pants. Neuvillette simply relaxed his face, lifting up his hips when Wriothesley pulled at the waistband to tug them off his body.

To Wriothesley, it probably looked like Neuvillette was in calm indifference, just going with the motions, but underneath, you could see your husband brimming with nerves and anticipation, his eyes blazing with need. Your husband was just incredibly used to schooling his own emotions into a mask, he was doing so now to hide his nervousness.

As his pants and undergarments were finally pulled from him, his cock twitched, long and hard and leaking as he laid there, and you simply couldn’t help yourself. You leaned down and took the head of it into your mouth, giving him a few firm sucks just to loosen the tension in his spine.

He moaned, his hand coming to your shoulder as he squirmed. You pulled away, smirking at the flush now coating his face.

Wriothesley whistled as he took in Neuvillettes completely naked form, running his hand along a smooth milky thigh, thumbing gently where it meets his hip.

Neuvillette squirmed, his hand reaching for yours. You grasped it gently, smiling up at Wriothesley. “He’s fine, just getting all quiet because he’s nervous.” You explained when wriothesley looked to you in concern.

“Nervous?” Wriothesley chuckled. “After all that? He’s nervous now?”

“Se—“ Neuvillette stuttered. “Nervousness during sexual exploration is normal, however sharing new experiences with someone that one has no sexual experience with prior can be cause for some anxiety. I am… I am fine— eager, even.”

Wriothesley smirked affectionately, rubbing Neuvillettes thighs. “Well that's good. Is it alright if I touch you now?”

”You may.” Neuvillette breathed.

You continued to hold his hand as you sat down by his hips, eyeing the way Wriothesley squeezed his inner thighs appreciatively.

His large calloused hands spread up and cupped around Neuvillettes pelvis, his thumbs gently running along his balls, watching gleefully as the Iudex twitched under his teasing touch.

A hand finally came up to grasp his cock, starting a slow pace of languid strokes, making you both eye the precome beading at his tip as Neuvillette bit his lip and watched.

“You know, I was expecting something a little more… dragon-like down here.” Wriothesley teased, eyeing Neuvillettes cock before tracing his gaze appreciatively all over his naked body. “You’re fucking ridiculously big, and so damn flawless it’s certainly a little inhuman… but not what I was expecting.”

Neuvillette watched as Wriothesley’s hand picked up the pace, only to slow right down once more, his calloused fingers squeezing here and there as his other hand still teased the junction between his pelvis and thigh.

“This is my… least alarming form.” Neuvillette breathed, and you watched as his brow twitched. he was certainly holding back. “I thought it appropriate to keep the experience as close to… normal as possible.”

“His other form is so pretty,” you pouted, twirling your index finger around Neuvillettes pert nipple, the pink flesh pebbling from all the attention. “But he wont let me play with them… he says I’ll just end up hurting myself.”

“Them?” Wriothesley’s hand paused as he looked at you with a raised brow.

You gave him a cheeky grin, raising up two fingers as you glanced down at Neuvillettes cock. Wriothesley audibly swallowed as you gestured a measurement well over a foot with your hands and mouthed the word big with some finality in your expression.

“Your mortal body is not equipped to deal with such—“ Neuvillette was cut off by his own choked groan as Wriothesley bent down to lap at the head of his cock, blue eyes still staring up at your husband with such intensity.

“You’re telling me you have two cocks?” Wriothesley teased between strokes of his hand and tongue, watching as Neuvillette writhed on the bed. “And you’ve been holding out on our girl here?”

Neuvillette’s head snapped up, glaring at Wriothesley between his spread legs.

“Mine.” His voice was a rasping growl, eyes aflame. “Not yours.”

You watched Wriothesley shudder, his grin ever present as he simply continued the strokes and little licks around your husband's leaking cock.

“Oh fuck, that’ll never not be hot.” He murmured almost to himself as Neuvillette settled back down at your soothing touch running along his chest.

“He’s just teasing you, my love.” You whispered to him, nibbling along his pointed ear. “Everyone knows I belong to you.”

“You have to let me see them,” Wriothesley chuckled as he sat back up, pinching along Neuvillettes thighs. The sight of your husband spread wide and flushed was enough to send pulses of searing heat between your legs, and you simply couldn’t take it anymore.

Neuvillette cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact with The Duke as you settled to lay down on the bed beside him, rolling on to your side to face him. You nuzzled into your husbands neck, kissing and nibbling at his skin as if it would soothe the ache in your core.

“Perhaps another time.” Neuvillette didn't sound very thrilled, in fact he sounded rather embarrassed. You remember how long it took to convince him to let you see his more dragonian features.

Wriothesley smiled at the premise of another time, another instance of this happening between the three of you. It seemed that he certainly wasn’t going to object.

“Lubricant?” The Duke asked.

“Top drawer, right side.” You mumbled from your mission of scattering purpling marks along your husband's collar bones.

You felt Wriothesley shift as you wrapped your arms around Neuvillettes neck, bringing your lips to his for a fervent kiss. He consumed you, his inhuman tongue twirling with yours and dipping deeper than usual, teasing your gag reflex and pushing little tears to form at the corners of your eyes.

Wriothesley was back, spreading the lubricant along his fingers. “I’ll start slow, okay?”

“I am not made of glass, your Grace.” Neuvillette scoffed slightly as he paused your kiss.

“Have you done this before?” He looked between the two of you.

“No, I didn't want to hurt him, I’ve never done anything like this.” You said, looking up at Wriothesley before your eyes were pulled right back to the lewd sight of Neuvillette running his tongue along his bottom lip.

“Exactly. I know what I’m doing. Let me do it.”

You and your husband nodded, seemingly more interested in sucking on each other's tongues than Wriothesley’s scolding. That is, until Neuvillette paused, his eyes widening.

“There, there's one. How is it?”

A rough breath pushed from Neuvillettes nose, as he shifted, and you watched the muscles in Wriothesley’s arm flex as he pumped the digit in and out of your husband, slowly and with a careful gaze.

“It is… different.” Neuvillette finally said, letting you nibble on his bottom lip.

“Good. Please say something if you feel any pain or discomfort.” Wriothesley’s eyes were sparkling as his eyes flipped between watching the two of you and watching his finger sink in and out of Neuvillettes hole. “Think you can take another?”

“Yes.”

Wriothesley’s fingers were thick, you knew that. Watching Neuvillettes face change color as Wriothesley pressed a second finger inside made you writhe beside him.

A small noise left Neuvillette as Wriothesley started his slow pumps once more, and your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head. You rolled to your back, immediately spreading your legs and running fingers along your clit, still watching your husband try to hang on to his composure.

You whined as Neuvillette gripped the blankets beneath him, his breaths becoming heavier as his face grew more red. Wriothesley was picking up the pace, slowing every now and then with a focused expression, as if he was looking for something.

The Duke watched you as he kept going, smirking down at your shameless display.

”Awe, you both just have such greedy little holes, don’t you?” His hand wrapped around your ankle, pulling you down the bed closer to him. A surprised squeak left your lips, and you watched with wide eyes as Wriothesley reached his free hand over to pet at your leaking cunt, fingertips slipping through and pressing so wonderfully.

He pressed the tip of one finger into your hole, before pulling back out and squeezing two inside you, slow and hot and so good. You keened at the stretch, your achey walls screaming at the sensation of finally being stimulated.

“There you go, ‘that what you needed, pretty girl?” he asked.

You nodded obediently, spreading your legs further as he pumped his fingers in and out of your hole, your back arching as you moaned and cried for him.

You turned to look at your husband, who was surely fuming at another man touching you so blatantly, but you were only met with a flushed and panting mess.

It seemed in your distraction, Wriothesley had added another finger, and Neuvillette was reacting sensationally to the pleasure. His voice was still held back, but you saw his eyes glazed over with lust, his little fanged teeth biting into his bottom lip.

Before you could get too distracted, Wriothesley crooked his fingers inside you, making you sob out and arch your back as he prodded at your g-spot.

To your surprise, Neuvillette cried out at the same time as you, a loud whine being ripped from his throat.

“Found it,” Wriothesley grinned.

The dam had finally cracked, though only a trickle of Neuvillettes true expressions were leaking through. He softly groaned, his eyes rolling back as his horns glowed, his hands nearly tearing holes in the sheets.

“Yeah?” You breathed, still spinning from Wriothesley’s fingers stroking inside you. “Does it feel good, my love? Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Your Grace,” Neuvillette panted, tilting his head up to meet Wriothesley’s heavy gaze. “I… I need—“

“What do you need, Your Honor?” Wriothesleys hands pumped in sync now, heavy strokes of his fingers stimulating you both. His smirk was smug, his eyelids heavy and cool eyes blazing.

You could feel your core tightening, the pleasure mounting inside you.

“Wrio…” You keened.

“Fuck, who knew that you’d both be such sluts? You’re both just begging for cock, aren’t you?”

He leaned down, pressing a messy kiss to Neuvillettes lips, and you watched Wriothesley nibble on his bottom lip before pulling away from your husband completely, slipping his hands from the both of you.

“Let me get you riled up before I fuck you, hmm? You’re so hot when you’re being possessive.”

Neuvillette looked confused for a moment but the realization dawned across his face as Wriothesley moved to gather your thighs in his hands, pushing your knees back until they rested on either side of your head.

“Just need a little taste of it, sweetheart.” Wriothesley murmured, running his ridiculously thick cock along your folds.

You squirmed, hands balling into tight fists in anticipation. Looking at Neuvillette, you watched as his eyes grew dark once more, and he looked as if he was going to rip Wriothesley away from you at any moment.

“The more fuss you put up, the longer I’ll fuck her— which means the more you’ll have to wait.” Wriothesley teased the head of his cock against your hole, and your back arched as if to encourage him.

Neuvillette settled back, though a deep predatory noise rumbled from his chest, and you could feel Wriothesley’s cock twitch against you.

“Fuck, I’ll never get over that.” The Duke nearly whined.

“Please,” you whimpered, your words starting to slur from the fog clouding your mind. “I wan’ it”

”Yeah? Think you can handle it?” Wriothesley added more pressure, wetting the tip of his already weeping cock, teasing you further. “You only took two fingers, you think that's enough to take this?”

”Please, please,” you bucked your hips, whining again when he pulled back. “I can take it, I can take it, I swear.”

Wriothesley chuckled, low and deep and so seductive. “If you say so…”

After a moment that felt like it dragged on for hours, Wriothesley finally pressed into you, and your eyes blew wide, your mouth hanging open in a silent scream.

He was thick. You were so insistent on taking him, you didn’t think about the consequences of not being adequately prepared. In a perfect world, you’d have likely taken three or even four of the Duke's lovely fingers and perhaps a couple orgasms to loosen yourself up before taking this claymore of a cock.

But oh, were you a glutton for punishment.

It stretched you so completely, not unlike the way it felt the first time your husband entered you this way, though he always seemed to prepare you more than necessary to ensure your comfort and pleasure.

“Think I can wring one out of you before I fuck your husband?” Wriothesley grinned as he bottomed out, watching your face as you tried to process how ridiculously full you felt. It was like he was in your throat, carving out a new space in your insides just for him to fit into perfectly.

Then he started moving.

Your cunt instantly fluttered around him, the position he had you pressed into forced the fat head of his cock to press against your g spot with insane precision, and the Duke slowly worked his thrusts into a rough slapping of your hips, until he was fucking you at cruel and brutal pace.

“Oh, oh!” You cried out, unable to do anything but take it, staring at the ceiling as your walls fluttered around him, squeezing and clenching as your orgasm built.

You could hear your husband's low growls, but you could also hear a secondary wet noise, prompting you to glance over in your haze of pleasure.

You keened out as you saw Neuvillette stroking himself in time with Wriothesley’s thrusts, his eyes dark and menacing but the twitch of his cock was unmistakable.

“Yeah, that's it sweetheart,” Wriothesley groaned. “Give it to me.”

And you did.

It shattered through you, the build up so quick and harsh that the tipping point had you crying out, writhing around in his hold as you came with such force it made you squeal.

“Good,” Wriothesley whispered, gently pumping his cock into you, prolonging your pleasure. “Good girl.”

You felt a cool hand reach for your thigh, your husband's possessive growling reaching closer to your ears, before Wriothesley’s hands pushed him away, his cock slipping from you rather quickly as he pinned Neuvillette to the bed beside you.

“Nuh-uh,” he chided. “Good boys wait their turn, monsieur.”

“I‘ll tear your hands from your body if you do not use them properly in the next five seconds, Wriothesley.”

“Ooh, violent.” Wriothesley smiled, pinning both of Neuvillettes hands within one of his own, bringing the free one down to run a thumb along your husband's bottom lip. “But I believe that would be a most heinous crime, Monsieur. And though I don't think you’d last a week down in the fortress, I’d make sure your time there was very, very comfortable.”

Wriothesley pressed his hips against Neuvillette, rubbing their cocks together in a lewd squelch that made you whimper and flush, realizing that it was your own arousal coating Wriothesley and making the slide of their lengths so wet and smooth.

“Let me fuck you,” Wriothesley breathed as he stared into Neuvillettes heated eyes. “Fuck, I need it.”

Neuvillette keened, his cock twitching and drooling where Wriothesley pressed against him. Though his brow was still furrowed, his hands still thrashing in the Duke's grip, he nodded, murmuring something that sounded like a breathy “please”.

Wriothesley wasted no time reaching down to thrust three fingers back into Neuvillettes hole before pulling out and lining his cock up, still dripping in your juices.

“It’ll be a lot at first, just try to relax for me.” He murmured against Neuvillettes ear, his muscular forearm tensing where it held him up.

You watched as he pressed forward, as your husband's mouth fell open, his eyes widening as he gazed up at The Duke, his hands clutching the sheets beneath him.

Your mind was in a haze, watching as Wriothesley started his slow and sensuous pace, the line of his hips driving into Neuvillette in a way that made your insides shudder.

His voice was a symphony of broken little sounds, smaller and more vulnerable than you were used to hearing, but his flushed face and bite-swollen lips looked so enticing.

“Is that good?” Wriothesley whispered as he leaned over him, pushing your husband's thighs wider, further back. “You like it?”

Neuvillette released a weak whimper, and you could see the wetness pooling behind his ethereal eyes. Even so, he gave a delicate little nod.

“You’re squeezing me so tight, beautiful.” Wriothesley groaned, his pace quickening. “Fuck, between the two of you, I’m not going to last long.”

You realized you were absently swirling your fingertips along your puffy clit, the pleasure in you from watching them too much for you to handle— you needed release.

Wriothesley’s eyes flickered between the two of you, watching you both, and you could see the muscles in his abdomen tighten.

“Gods—“ Wriothesley made the mistake of moaning out that dreaded word.

Neuvillettes legs snapped around his waist, his clawed hands gasping at his shoulders, at his back as he pulled Wriothesley closer and growled.

“No.” He rasped, fire burning in his gaze as his claws pulled at Wriothesley’s shoulder blades, making the duke shudder and cry out. “No gods. Only me.”

Your fingers stuttered as your thighs shook, your high approaching much sooner than you realized, your sensitive folds dripping and aching for it.

“Oh, fuck—“ Wriothesley groaned, leaning down to breathe into the crook of Neuvillettes neck as his hips stuttered too. “Neuvillette—“

Neuvillette did something you’ve only seen him do a few times, on occasions of high intensity and emotional wreckage during your intimate moments. It was a primal and animalistic act, a response brought on through his instincts and inner feelings, typically hidden by his proper decorum and high intellect.

He opened his mouth wide and latched his teeth possessively into the meat of Wriothesley’s trapezius muscle, deep and firm.

Wriothesley nearly screamed, his hands white knuckling the sheets as he came, gasping and pumping into your husband with a shocked and embarrassed expression, the blush on his face so extreme it trailed down to his shoulders.

Neuvillette groaned, and you watched his cock jump and spray deep splatters of white across his chest and abdomen, even up onto Wriothesley— all while still latched onto him, teeth baring down possessively into the flesh. Small rivulets of blood began pooling where his tongue wasn’t laving it up, and you shuddered and came at the sight of it all.

Your body arched, mind going blank as it hit you.

When your sight returned, all you could hear were three sets of panting breaths, three pounding hearts in the moonlight pooling in the room.

Your heart stuttered out a little bout of jealousy at the sight of Wriothesley petting your husbands silky hair as he soothed him away from his aching shoulder, watching the droplets of blood pool in the wetness left behind from his mouth.

But as Neuvillette relaxed back into the pillows, wriothesley looked up at you with a cheeky grin, wriggling his eyebrows at you, and suddenly the stillness of the room was broken by your unfiltered giggles.

Wriothesley joined you, his chuckling making Neuvillette look at you both in utter confusion. The Duke of Meropide raised his hand, and you limply sat up to meet it, clapping your hand against it in a high five both childish and out of place for the aftermath of such a heated exchange.

“That was… crazy.” Wriothesley said, pulling himself from Neuvillette and sitting back on the bed.

Your giggles calmed, and you snuggled up against your still gaping husband, who continued to look between the two of you with a flushed face and furrowed brow.

“Yeah, I was not expecting it to be like that.” You said as you ran your hands along Neuvillettes chest, soothing him.

You were expecting a bit more awkward tension— but then again, Wriothesley was your best friend. Everything felt easy with him, and even in the aftermath, you couldn’t help but feel light and happy, not an ounce of shame or awkwardness to speak of.

“This exchange…” Neuvillette looked between the two of you, wincing as he tried to sit up less than gracefully. “…is it a positive one? I understand that laughing has more than one meaning, I trust that this means you both enjoyed yourselves?”

You and Wriothesley looked at him, and then each other before you both burst out in another fit of giggles.

“Mmn.” Neuvillette hummed, his face now relaxed and serene. “I take it you’re staying to do our laundry, Your Grace?”

Wriothesley’s laughter sobered up in an instant. “Uh, what?”

“Well, considering that you’ve yet to clean up the mess you left between my legs, which I can feel attempting to drip onto my silk bed sheets, I assume you’re planning on washing them after you’re done relaxing?”

Neuvillette wasn't one for unnecessary messes, always rushing to clean you up after your trysts. He wasn't opposed to a mess or two, but would very promptly strip the bed afterwards to avoid staining his very expensive and very old silks.

Now it was your turn to giggle alone as Wriothesley’s eyes widened at the space between your husbands open thighs, tumbling off the bed in his haste with a grumbled “oh, shit!” As he raced to find a cloth.

“Thank you for indulging me, my love.” Neuvillette whispered against your temple as he pressed a kiss there, holding you closer.

“Do you have any more ideas?” You smirked, and he smiled finally, scrunching his nose playfully at you.

——————————————

Authors note: not my finest work, i kinda lost interest halfway through if you can’t tell. I still wanted to finish it and actually have something to post for y’all while i crawl my way out of this creative block, so visiting the old wips is a must. Anyways, let me know what you think, comments and reblogs are most important!! Love you all so much. —Rae🖤

[matrixbearer2024]

I really love you "Get off my screen" series! And I just and couldn't stop thinking about Reader just texting out of nowhere saying "Bruh I'm fucking dying"

And Vox is just going haywire(See what I did there?) Worried about you and ask what they mean and Reader be like "I'm dying because of BOARdom(Get it?)

You're Just Being Mean!

A/N: Omg I am absolutely writing this AHAHAHAHA- Vox is always the one screwing with dear Reader so I think it's about time to return the favor. Thank you @crazylzp143 for the inbox idea! I love how much this story is expanding and the ideas y'all have for it. As always, I hope you all enjoy this filler interlude and please keep the ideas coming! Happy reading!

You cheered, flopping backwards on your bed in a cheerful mood.

On your computer monitor was an empty assignment box.

You'd successfully accomplished all your required tasks before the semester's end which left you with a whole lot of free time to burn.

And did you absolutely just unwind and relax.

Playing games, watching movies, bingeing shows-

You practically spedran the chill pill treatment.

To the point where you managed to bore yourself before the day was even over.

You stared up at the ceiling with an annoyed look-

Wasn't there really anything else you could do?

And why did time pass by so slowly?

God you were bored.

In the middle of your TV show binge, your phone buzzed to life.

Considering you'd quickly found the plot line to be quite a drag, you just let the drama play while you no longer paid attention to it.

The white noise the show provided helped make it feel like you were actually doing something.

Even when you knew you weren't doing anything productive at all-

Looking over at your phone, you smiled upon opening the familiar chatbox that you saw almost daily.

"Heya Voxxy, what's up?"

"Well aren't you in a good mood today! Anything special?"

You playfully rolled your eyes, Vox really thought he was being cheeky this time wasn't he?

"Managed to complete all my work for the semester, so now I can just chillax until exams come around!"

"Wait what? Holy shit! You've got a whole two weeks of nothing then!"

"IKR! I can just laze around and do what I want after class hours!"

It wasn't surprising that Vox quickly got used to your schedule, you'd also grown slightly accustomed to his.

He knew the basic rundown of your schedule, like when your classes started and ended-

Just as much as you knew when he had to leave for his daily broadcast and when he would come back.

You could only guess him knowing when exam season happens was from looking at the calendars and schedules you had meticulously prepared in your computer.

There were times he would even remind you of things due on a day, like quizzes or projects to which you would grow embarrassed that it slipped your mind.

You were the one who made the calendar, how could you forget it???

Though it was probably helpful on his end that he quite literally had a digital reference to look back on.

You still wondered sometimes how he managed to end up with a TV for a head but didn't look into it much.

"Guess that means you'll be spending more time with me?"

"Dude, I already spend so much time with you! Any more and I'd have to call you my boyfriend!"

That message really shouldn't have caused Vox to bluescreen but it did.

He was just so flustered that his system crashed in it's entirety because of what you said.

Not that you noticed when all you got in reply was some keysmash and middle finger emojis.

Vox could only imagine you were laughing at his expense, and even then he couldn't bring himself to be annoyed with you.

It was only recently that he'd become hyper aware with how much you meant to him so jokes and comments like that easily sent his mental careening.

Not that he quite understood why he felt this way yet, a part of him still blamed some unknown untraceable malware that your devices shoved into his system.

Though he highly doubted that a stupid virus would make his stomach do flips whenever he saw your silly smile.

Oh whatever, he'll just have to run another malware check later or something.

You just continued to tease Vox for a good while before he had to excuse himself and leave for a meeting.

He was slightly glad that he had just a little respite from your teasing onslaught.

Any more of it and there was a high risk he would've accidentally caused another citywide blackout.

You tossed your phone onto an adjacent cushion and just laughed.

No wonder Vox liked to embarrass you so much.

It was downright hilarious and entertaining.

You couldn't help but feel slightly flattered with his reactions though, was your friendship that important to him?

So he really did care after all, what a dork.

The funny high you were running on, much to Vox's chagrin, didn't last long.

So you decided to go back to fucking with your TV headed companion since he usually did the same to you.

"Dudeeeee I'm fucking dyingggg-"

Vox made the mistake of checking his phone in the middle of the meeting and nearly gave himself a stroke upon reading your message.

What in Lucifer's name even happened?!

Last he checked you were completely fine???

He hadn't even left you for-

Taking a look at his internal clock, Vox glitched from sheer panic.

It hadn't even been an hour!

Was this supposed to be a joke??

Were you just fibbing with him?

Or god forbid you were actually hurt and needed help-

He was about to just bolt out of that meeting before another messaged snapped him out of it.

"I'm dying- dying of BOARDom! HAHA see what I did there?"

Vox felt the last of his patience leave him as rings appeared on his other eye.

The absolute nerve of you-!

"Oh fuck off (Y/N)."

With that, he angrily pocketed his phone and once again paid attention to the meeting.

The poor presenter in the front nearly shat himself from how irritated Vox looked, they didn't know that frustration was because of you though.

You just couldn't stop laughing at his reply, not realizing how badly your overlord friend took the joke until some noticeable time passed and there wasn't a single message or notification from him.

Now that started to concern you.

You'd be lucky to get through an hour with less than a hundred notifications at a time-

It's been two and there was still absolutely nothing.

Did something happen?

Was he upset or dealing with something?

Perchance... did you do something to upset him?

"Vox...? Hey, you good dude?"

You grew more concerned as the minutes ticked on.

Whatever it was- Vox was probably genuinely upset.

And you had a gut feeling it had something to do with you.

"I'm not talking to you."

You almost wanted to roll your eyes at his message, was he being childish?

So your hunch was right, you did manage to upset him- somehow.

"Ehhhh??? Why? What did I do?"

"You know what you fucking did (Y/N)."

Not really- that's why you asked.

Your hands dropped onto your lap tiredly as you looked up towards the ceiling.

What... what did you do wrong?

Scrolling up to read your chats, it didn't take long before you realized where it went wayside.

Oh.

"Right, you don't really like it when I joke about dying huh."

"No."

"You never really told me why, and you never cared this much before. You would just laugh it off when I delivered the punchline."

"You're still young (Y/N). You have your whole life ahead of you. Dying puts you at risk of ending up here in hell with me."

"You know that doesn't sound as horrible as you paint it right?"

"Pardon?"

"I'll end up where you are, that can't seriously be that bad."

Vox genuinely wondered if you had a screw loose or something this time.

He continued to try hammering it into you that it was hell he was talking about.

Eternal damnation, the never-ending inferno, etc.

Ya know, where all the sinners went to suffer??

But again and again you would just keep repeating-

"But I'll be where you are, it won't be that bad- it can't be that bad."

Until he finally understood what you were insinuating.

It wouldn't be so bad, because he was there.

He would be there with you.

At that point the state of hell or where you were wasn't important.

Vox could only chuckle at his own foolishness.

Not to mention just how oblivious you were to your own words.

"I guess. Just don't do that again."

"I'll try not to. Besides, if I croak and end up at the heaven gates- I'll put in a good word for you."

"You? In heaven? Nice joke dollface."

"Oh fuck you too Vox, I was being optimistic."

The tech overlord just rolled his eyes, there was a real risk that he could lose you soley because heaven would take you away but he didn't dwell on it.

You were still here texting him, cracking jokes and being your obnoxiously cute self.

You were still on the other side of the screen furiously typing up a comeback of why you would be able to get into the pearly gates.

Vox just chuckled, as long as you were with him in the here and now-

He found he wouldn't care even if hell froze over.

A/N: Our Voxxy is starting to catch feels, well- slightly- he's just in the stages of caring a bit too much but not realizing it's romance yet. Writing this stuff is hilariously entertaining, plus the slow burn is just yummy hahahahah I'll be putting out some more interludes tomorrow but the direct continuation is finished! I just need to post these things chronologically XD

[90sbee]

Dying is not an option (when you're by my side)

Leon S. Kennedy x Gn!reader

1k words. Also on a03

Soft fingers caress his lips, keep his body warm, his belly full and his back massaged.

“I’ll always have a home,” Leon finally manages to get out, a complete sentence, voice without hesitation.

He closes his eyes, kisses the skin of your shoulder.

Hell, he is trying.

When his mind seems to get too clouded by the visions of monsters, you pull him out of the depths of his trauma. He does his best to love you. He tries.

Or the fic in which you make Leon repeat comforting phrases so it finally gets in his head that he is loved.

Just a very soft idea that wouldn't leave my head and that's been too long in the wip folder. The warnings make it seem worse than it is, but happy ending I promise!!! Had re4r in mind for this one but can be read with other older versions of him. (Though the older the Leon, the angstier it gets lmao)

Content: No use of y/n, very very soft love, hurt/comfort, some angst, established relationship, living together, sitting on his lap, a tiny bit of possessive Leon (yay!)

Warnings: +18 ONLY. No smut but some suggestive lines. Mentions of blood, suicide, guns and overall (some brief) gore. Leon's mental struggles (depression, anxiety). I'm not a native English speaker but I (lazily) proofread and edited this one.

You lean forward, just a little closer to his body. Leon groans, his face unreadable still.

“Don’t want to,” he muses, kind of annoyed at your proposal.

“Just trust me.”

He reluctantly nods, as you get comfortable on his lap. His firm thighs under you, the warmest and comfiest seat you could ever ask for.

You worry about him, worry so much.

You know now: know what he does, what he works as. At first it was hard to believe it, the stories about human turned monsters, about creatures that linger between heaven and hell. But you had to believe him, you were forced to the first time Leon crumbled down in your arms, sobbing the entirety of the night, the immensity of his body reduced to shivering and tears.

“I love you,” you had told him that time. “I’m not letting you go. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

You whisper the same things again now, your voice reverberating close to his ear. Leon eases the grip on your hips, replaces it with a soft touch. He tries to calm down, closes his eyes for a moment too long.

“You love me,” he seems to ask, as if trying to convince himself of it, as if trying to find himself worthy of such a feeling from someone like you.

“I do,” you confirm, cupping his cheeks.

He nods, though his heart is thumping in his chest still. Your hands move to his shoulders, then to his arms, caressing the skin with soft strokes.

“I love you… Look at me.”

He obliges, eyes like the ocean, marked by the heavy and dark eyebags.

It breaks your heart to see him like this. Your lip trembles as you lean closer, shortening the distance.

It is entirely possible —as you’re so much aware of— that one day you’ll come home to an unlocked gun and his body in the bathtub. Or maybe it would be the rifle, the carpet stained with blood and pieces of what used to be his jaw.

A jaw that you love so much, that you kiss now.

Leon sighs, seems content with such affection, his hands getting lost down your thighs.

“Listen to me. You’re gonna repeat as I say, okay?” an attempt to get him out of his head, to remind him of who he is.

“ …‘Kay,” he mumbles, seemingly distracted.

“I’m… good.”

He scrunches his nose, pinkish lips downturned. Naturally, he doesn’t dare to say those words. He doesn’t want to trick his brain.

“C’mon,” you egg him, patting his shoulder gently.

The action seems to at least make his lips curve slightly.

“I’m good,” he whispers, his voice insecure.

He tries. You can see how hard he does it: coming home as much possible, the dirty laundry now clean and with a soft cinnamon scent. A sunflower in the kitchen vase next to the window, the coffee mug always clean even when you leave it in the sink, ready to be washed in the morning.

“I’m a good partner,” you resume, reminiscing.

That does stops him in his tracks, a gentle blush rooting on his cheeks, the smile more pronounced now. Leon presses his face against your neck.

“… Do I really have to say it?”

“Yep.”

He breathes on your neck, as if trying to take in a bit of your kindness, a bit of your peace. He closes his eyes, tries to control his breathing. But his hands grip your hips harder.

He fucking loves you.

Leon is not sure he deserves this yet, the warm body on the bed, the pretty smile that kisses him goodbye, lets him go away even in the middle of the night.

“I love you,” he backtracks, pressing a kiss on your neck.

You chuckle, and allow him that admission.

“Very cute but that’s not what you had to repeat.”

Leon raises his eyebrows, feigning annoyance. He keeps his fingers on your hips, dancing on your skin, drawing patterns as he keeps you close. He wishes he could sign his name there, mark you forever so you’d never get too far away from him… So he’d always have a right to come back to you.

“But I love you…” he pouts.

You grab his face with utmost care, force his cheeks to look upwards at your face.

“I love you too. Lots.”

You kiss his forehead. His body melts under that touch.

“ ‘m a good partner” he mumbles, quickly.

“My baby loves me.”

Now Leon chuckles.

“My baby loves me,” he hides again on your neck, his smile etched constantly on his face now. You hug him closer, kiss his forehead once more, as if sheltering a lost angel in your arms.

“I’ll always have a home.”

Oh, that one seems to break him a little. Leon immediately whines, his hands gripping your body with ferocity against his. He can’t say… He shouldn’t. He… he can’t and…

His heart starts beating faster and he gulps.

“You can do it…” you encourage him and he wants to try. He knows, deep inside, that is true and that he is now safe. It takes him several minutes until his anxiety dissipates and he can look up at you, your eyes encapsulating warmth that he had never experienced with anyone else.

Soft fingers caress his lips, keep his body warm, his belly full and his back massaged.

“I’ll always have a home,” Leon finally manages to get out, a complete sentence, voice without hesitation.

He closes his eyes, kisses the skin of your shoulder.

Hell, he is trying. It is seen not only in how much he makes time for you, but also in the way he follows along with your little silly ideas, suggestions to try to build himself up again.

And though he wouldn’t directly admit it, since you two are together he has promised himself to fight his hardest in every mission. He spits his own blood, wipes off the exhaustion from his face and keeps pushing forward. Because, he’ll be damned, he wants to see you once more. And once more. And again and again… And when he comes home, to you, Leon immediately checks —for the tenth time— the safety on each gun and leaves them in locked boxes, his fingers slowly forgetting what it’s like to toy with weapons in the sanctuary that you’ve built for the two of you. The cold of the metal is now replaced by the warmth between your thighs, the flesh on your hips, the softness of your hands.

Hell, he is definitely trying.

And it’s fucking working.

God to be on his lap honestly!!! A dream. And if you've made it to the end, thank you!! Mwah, sweet soul 💙

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

You know what really gets me about ATSV

ATSV: How to do a face reveal right

[A SHORT essay on why I think Miguel and Hobie are Hot On Purpose.]

Jessica's face is completely uncovered. Ben's face is shown right away. Pavitr appears in his mask but immediately shows his face in his own intro. Margo is always unmasked too.

CMIIW but: Miguel and Hobie are the only new characters whose faces were hidden until WAY after their first lines.

You mean to tell me, two of the finest characters in the movie. The characters who look like THIS

Are shown first as this:

- for a reason!! The writers knew what they were doing 😭

They - knowing the two would receive the most fan attention - deliberately delayed their face reveals simply for the sake of the drama.

When we first meet Miguel - it's as Spider-man

He's playing the cool, cold, heroic leader (despite Gwen's teasing). We come close to seeing his face, but like him, we stop short.

They give us a taste of Miguel before we actually meet him, or see his face and full design.

The opening scenes of ATSV leaves us holding our breath.

The end of ITSV sets Miguel up to a big problem in ATSV, but he's abscent for the majority of the movie, working behind the scenes.

We spend the majority of the movie holding our breath, knowing that eventually Miles will have to meet him, we'll have to meet him, and it leaves the viewer even more excited - or anxious - for Miguel.

When we meet Hobie - it's as Spider-Punk

Just the same as Miguel, we're given a HUGE dose of Hobie before he even hits the screen.

Hobie is the talk of the town. Miles has an imagined problem with him - so we have a problem with him: We don't know who he is!

ATSV sets us up for Hobie. We know we'll meet him, but unlike Miguel - as so very in character for Hobie - we don't know where, or when, or how.

Even after his first appearance - he kicks it up a notch.

And although he could've remained masked for the entirety of his intro, instead - the animators choose to have fun with it.

They highlight the fact. Hobie outright taunts the viewer; He KNOWS you want to see his face. Sure, he'll demask himself - but he doesn't give you the satisfaction.

But Hobies face is an intentional mystery. He wants to keep you guessing, revealing in the anticipation.

He's already told you his name - but it's his character design that we're left dying for.

I know as soon as they got in the elevator I was like 👀 - he not gonna keep that mask on right. cause I know he fine

I find it so funny that the two characters that are thirsted after on the highest level are the only ones that reveal their faces in later scenes.

Like even when they walk into Miguels lair

Like bro what the fuck are you posing for? Dramatic effect 😐

It goes to show that writers genuinely know who will be fan-favorites.

The ATSV design and animation team made a ridiculous amount of content for Hobie - going so far as to design his house, and make detailed imagery of his world.

They knew it'd never be included in ATSV. But they didn't care.

They made it anyway cause they knew people would want more of him. They knew that either in BTSV - or a solo entry of his own - people would really like Hobie, and really want to know more about him.

The knew that people would go NUTS over Miguel's redesign - because it's such a stark difference and upgrade from his teaser seen in ITSV.

In the beginning of ATSV, the design changes aren't that apparent. But as ATSV goes on, and we see Miguel's behavior, we immediately understand why they chose to make Miguel SO MUCH LARGER than what they were planning in ITSV.

They knew that you'd hear Oscar Issac's voice and it'd be a wrap. The way he looks is just ICING on the cake. They don't need to show you Miguel right away, they're going to make you thirst the whole movie before you actually get to see him.

They knew you'd see Hobie kick through that force field and be shook over him.

Gwen and Pavitr yell out 'Hobie!' when he arrives - because that's what we're all screaming in our heads.

'Oh shit - he's HERE.'

His face reveal is just the final nail in the coffin of 'yeah, im down bad for this dude. it's a wrap.'

I just LOVE IT i LOVE IT it SO CLEVER

the writers being like 'nah make them thirsty hoes wait'. Im watching Mumbattan fall apart in front of my very eyes and I'm still like... 'So about that Hobie bloke.... what's his deal'

We are all so predictable. They're laughing at us. They made Miguel dummy thicc because they knew. They just knew.

[soobnny]

swipe — lee felix.

trope. lee felix. strangers to lovers. chronicles of a dating app. felix is extremely flirty. just fluff.

synopsis. i’m not looking to date right now, but my parents just sent me some computer parts and i saw on your tinder bio that you like assembling computers

word count. 3.2k words

warnings. none except for a few curse words

note. hi hello i got sent this rly funny photo of a conversation so i took inspiration from that and wrote this fic like a whiiile ago. i’ve had this in my drafts for a while so why not let it see the light of day!

Left. Left. Left. Left. Pause. Left. Left. Left. Left.

“(Name)!”

Yunjin offers no warning when her hands move to claw at your shoulders, intent on startling you without sparing a thought on your poor phone that had jumped out of your hands.

When you scare, she laughs, open-mouthed and loud as she plops herself on the spot next to you on your dorm’s mini couch. “You should’ve seen the look on your face.”

“Honestly, how do you even do that? I barely heard you walk into the living room!” You grumble.

You spare her a glance and notice she’s too dressed up to be staying the night in–white crop top that sits just above her hips with some low rise jeans to accentuate her features. Her hair is curled on the ends, recently dyed black and styled to look a little messy.

She must be going out.

Though you try not to think about it, the amount of times Yunjin goes out with her friends in a week is a constant reminder of how pathetic your social life is. While it didn’t quite bother you enough to accept her invite, it’d be nice to leave your dorm once in a while. It’s just that you haven’t found anyone you really clicked with like Yunjin.

“What are you doing?” She cranes her neck to try and see what you were so busy with that you didn’t see her from your peripheral vision.

You show her the app with no shame. It only makes her laugh tenfold, hands clutching her stomach with her head thrown back as if she wasn’t the one who had suggested you download it in the first place.

“Yunjin, this is stupid. I’ve only had this downloaded for a day and I already feel sick.” You groan, throwing your phone down in the space between you. Though, maybe you should’ve thought twice about that when Yunjin decides to grab so she can have a go herself – swiping left and left and left and… oh?

“What about him?” You curl into her side, peering over your phone.

Oh, he’s pretty cute. Lee Felix?

“He added dog lover. You love dogs and… music?” She goes over his interests quickly, eyes scanning his profile like a pro. You suppose it’s because she’s used to it, quick to read a guy’s intentions just by their Tinder profile.

“I like assembling computers. Oh, this guy’s a dork, you’d love him.”

Right.

It’s a match!

“Yunjin!” You shift in your seat, immediately grabbing your phone from her grip before she can do any further damage. Sure, you had humored yourself into downloading the app for Yunjin but you never thought of actually swiping right for anyone.

“What? He’s cute, and you matched!” She giggles, trying to grab your phone back so she can craft you the perfect first message.

She knows you won’t do it yourself.

You lock your phone before she has a chance to do anything stupid, shaking your head in reprimand. “I know what you’re trying to do and it’s not happening.”

She simply smiles at you, shrugging her shoulders and calling it a day for her trial in meddling with your love life. “Well, I tried. Alright, I have to go. I’ll be back late, you sure you don’t wanna come with?”

You return the smile, shaking your head as you drop yourself to lay down on the entirety of the couch once your roommate gets up. “I think my computer parts are coming in today so I have to be here to sign off the delivery.”

“Nerd.” She snorts, waving you goodbye and locking the door behind her. It’s your cue to grab your laptop and continue binging that new drama that had just been released.

This is your ordinary Friday night, curled up on the sofa with your most comfortable blanket and your laptop on your lap. Despite the desire to socialize sometimes, you think nothing else really goes above wearing your favorite PJs and eating snacks without guilt as the opening song of your new drama plays.

Though, you only get to finish one episode when your doorbell rings, and you waltz yourself to your front door to happily accept the package sent by your parents. They had won it as one of the raffle prizes in a foreign business trip, and since your parents had no use for a computer, they decided to ship it off to you. “Could help with college,” is what your dad says.

It’s only when multiple boxes come rolling in when you realize one small problem. You don’t know how to fucking assemble a computer, and you doubt Yunjin would know how either.

“That’s it. If you could please sign here, here, and here.” The mailman still sounds enthusiastic despite having done hours of his shift already, and you comply immediately as to not add on to the downpour of stress that’s handed to them every single day.

When you shut your door, you quickly turn around to stare at the multitude of boxes on the ground. Maybe Beomgyu would know how? He looks like he’d know a thing or two about computers. So, you shoot him a text.

Turns out, he doesn’t know how. And he’s currently scamming Yeonjun out of a free dinner, and so even though he tells you he’ll try to be there, you know he probably won’t arrive (unless to laugh at your situation).

You think, maybe you can just go to the Computer Engineering department and ask someone to help you, but could you risk socializing with numerous college students face to face? Absolutely the fuck not.

You’ve just about given up when your head strikes an idea and your back immediately straightens in posture at the stupid thought. “Should I?”

You rush towards where you had left your phone, letting out a sigh as you stare at the one person on your Match list. Lee Felix who likes assembling computers.

Lovely fucking timing.

Fumbling with the device, you finally decide to shoot him a message. What are the odds of him responding, anyway?

You’re tempted to throw your phone while waiting for his response, though your plan goes down the drain in a second when he responds almost immediately.

yn (6:03pm): hello!

felix (6:04pm): hey! i didn’t think you would message first :))

yn (6:06pm): oh, i’m sorry i hope you don’t get my intentions wrong. it’s just that … my parents sent over some computer parts and i rly don’t know how to assemble a computer

yn (6:06pm): i know it’s kind of random, but could u possibly help me by any chance?

yn (6:07pm): i don’t rly know anyone who knows how to and you’re the only person that came to mind

You cringe at yourself for triple messaging, face visibly scrunching as you let out a pained noise. And then he replies, and your hand shoots to grab your phone and stare at his message.

“Yeah, why not?” is what he replies, followed by where he should meet you. Is it a good idea to invite a stranger to your dorm? Probably not, but you can’t possibly assemble your computer somewhere else and bring it back to your dorms. So, you tell him to meet you at a cafe nearby – to test out the waters and see if he isn’t some variant of a serial killer.

“Be there in 15,” is his next reply.

15 minutes?!

You look down at yourself in sudden panic, still clad in a big shirt and some shorts. How were you supposed to pick something decent to wear in 15 minutes without Yunjin? You suppose could facetime her but you know it takes her hours to even decide on what to wear for herself.

Bringing your feet towards your closet, you say a silent prayer and start picking out what to wear for yourself. While this wasn’t technically a date, Lee Felix from Tinder is still fucking cute and you would hate for him to think he got scammed into swiping right on you.

You double check yourself in the mirror, chewing at your lips thoughtfully before sighing out in approval. At least you looked as if you put some sort of effort into what you’re wearing. That should be good enough in itself.

The nerve of meeting an entirely new person begins to set in when you repeatedly dart your eyes from the coffee shop back to your phone to try and see if anyone who looked like Felix was in the coffee shop. It’s like watching a game of ping pong the way you repeatedly look back and forth. And when it seems that no one with long black hair is here yet, you take it upon yourself to take a seat by the window where he can find you easily.

The scraping of the chair catches your attention, and holy fuck. Lee Felix is not a catfish. He is way far from it, and you think you might’ve lucked out when he takes the seat in front of you.

“Sorry, I hope I didn’t startle you.” Deep, thick accent. It feels like shots of espresso when he speaks and it physically manifests goosebumps from you. You shake your head, telling him you’re fine. “(Name), right?”

He smiles, and it feels like your whole world stops.

“Uh, yeah. You must be Felix?” The man in question nods his head, reaching out to shake your hand and the gesture has your cheeks flushing. It’s an act of basic human decency, but can you really be blamed for acting like a shy little school girl when someone as beautiful as Felix is sitting and talking to you.

The coffee shop is still bustling, and everyone around you converses as if the most beautiful man hadn’t just stepped foot into the coffee shop. The freckles sitting just below his eyes look like constellations, and his black hair is styled just messy enough to achieve the hot boy who doesn’t know he’s hot look.

“Do you want some coffee before I set your computer up?” You shake your head, suddenly feeling shy.

Instead, you tell him to get whatever he wants so you don’t feel guilty enough for taking time out of his evening just to assemble your computer. He accepts your promise in pretense, but he comes back with his order and a few pastries and it’s clear he’s already paid for it from the way he ignores any mention of how much it cost.

“I didn’t know what you preferred, so I got a bit of everything.” There’s a crinkle just at the corner of his eyes when he smiles, sitting back down adjacent of you as he pushes the plate closer to you.

You look at the array of pastries, a little hesitant. “Please don’t feel shy. Here, let’s take one together.”

He grabs a cookie from the platter, and you shyly follow by grabbing a strawberry muffin.

“Mmm, strawberry muffin. Very good choice.” Felix comments, watching you closely as you take a bite out of the muffin. “Is it good?”

Your eyes widen in delight, nodding your head as you chew slowly. “So good.”

Your words come out as a mumble, and it triggers a sweet laugh out of Felix. You feel familiar, the way you smile with your eyes and close them shut to savor the taste.

“You’re cute.” He says unabashedly, as if his words won’t cause drastic consequences.

A chunk gets stuck on your throat.

Felix is quick to hand you a glass of water when you start choking, rushing to stand by your side. You would’ve hoped the first skinship for the evening would be handholding, and not repeated pats on your back to remedy your choking.

“Are you okay?” His hand is still on your back, gently running small circles as he leans down to check on you. You think you might start choking again if he keeps looking at you like that, 1080p view of his eyelashes and the specs splashing his irises.

“Mhm, sorry.” You put the glass down, refusing to meet his eyes as he remains hovering over you. You want to leave out of embarrassment. He notices your silence, notices the way you cross your arms in mock defense.

“Don’t worry, I still think you’re cute.” There’s a smirk on his face. You can tell without even looking up at him. “I’ll take these out.”

He says it so casually, as if he’s simply asking about your day. His outward flirty-ness is new, but it isn’t unwelcome.

“Ready to go?”

With the plastic bag in his hand and his order in a takeout cup, you sigh gratefully. “Yeah.”

The walk to your dorm is short, but it’s spent in conversation. Lee Felix is talkative, has lots of stories to offer. Whatever it takes to make you laugh.

You like that about him. You like that you don’t have to talk so much. He doesn’t even force a comment out of you. Just needs to know you’re listening.

So you do. You listen intently as he shares pieces of his life with you—his friends, his course, games he plays. He’s chatty, and the way he smiles with every word reminds you of a cat. Deep whiskers and crescent eyes.

“So, really, this is a great way to end the day, assembling a pretty girl’s computer.”

His mouth drops a little when he realizes he’d vocalized the latter part of his sentence, yet he doesn’t make a move to take it back. You are pretty, one of the prettiest he’s ever seen. And the blush on your face is well worth the slip of his tongue.

“As long as you’re sure this isn’t a hassle.” You mumble, looking down at your feet as you reach your building.

That you aren’t getting anything out of this.

Though, before you can step forward, you’re tugged back to where Felix is standing. He’s holding your hand now, grabbing your full attention. “I promise this isn’t a bother.”

The way he looks at you answers your silent question—he doesn’t mind that you’re simply asking for his help without any intention.

“I enjoy building computers, especially with good company. You don’t even have to do anything. Just sit there and be yourself.”

“Okay. Thank you.” He squeezes your hand for extra measure, allowing you to drag him to your dorm room.

True to his word, Felix doesn’t so much as let you lift a finger. You stay seated on the couch, watching as he sets to work on the floor. From time to time, he’d tell you what he’s doing. Something about screwing some parts in and a mother board? You don’t understand much, but you listen as much as you can.

“Tell me about yourself.” Felix looks up from his work, and your eyes widen a little at the boy’s sudden request.

You’re sure you’re simply imagining the gentle interest in his eyes. “Hm?” You ask him to repeat himself, even though you heard him loud and clear.

“I’ve been yapping about myself all night. I wanna know more about you.” He teases.

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything. Everything.”

“Soooo… do I start with the year I was born?” You laugh when he throws you a look, quick to throw your hands in the air in mock surrender. “Joking, joking.”

“You’re an interesting girl, (Name).” Felix grins, locking eyes with you for a second and a half before turning back to his work.

“There’s nothing much to me, really. I go to school and go home and that’s about it. I just try and survive college the best I can.”

He shoots you a disapproving look. “Well, I beg to differ.”

“What do you mean?” You bring your legs up on the couch, sitting cross-legged as you wait for what he had to say.

“For one, your eyes lit up when I talked about Chan’s Pokemon collection, or how Seungmin is obsessed with Kdramas.” He points out, reaching for his takeout drink and taking a few large gulps. “And you smiled when I mentioned the little chicken plush I own.”

You don’t expect Felix to notice any of this, and the thought that he did has a blush fighting to creep up your face.

You grab a throw pillow to hide behind.

“Oh, and you like strawberry muffins. So, I’d say there’s a lot to you. And I’m hoping to learn everything more.”

You have to force your eyes to look away from him in fear that your flustered cheeks would appear too obvious to the boy. Though, if he’d noticed the mere brightening of your eyes, you’re sure he’s already caught on to the silly schoolgirl smile on your lips.

“Stop looking at me.” You mumble, burying your face in your pillow. All you can hear is his sweet laughter.

“Come here, I’m just about done.”

You clap your hands in small when he turns on your computer, fully functioning and fully assembled. It surprises you how a task that would’ve taken you 6 hours is done in under 2 by Felix. Even more that it didn’t even feel like two hours.

You suppose that’s just the thing with Felix. He makes it so that time disappears with the whole night sky in his eyes—the moon for eyes and stars littering his face.

“Thank you, Felix. Like really.” He dismisses you, telling you it was nothing. The satisfaction on your face is enough compensation for his work.

There’s a few do’s and don’t’s that he mentions, and you try to list them down the best you can.

“Or, I can just text it to you?”

You pause mid-writing, looking up at him. “Sure, that’s… that’s fine with me.”

You’re unsure of how to say goodbye to him after giving him your number, unsure even of how you can make it up to him for the 3 hours you’d taken away from him. If it were anyone else, you would’ve said it in ease, so you don’t know why you can’t do the same for Felix.

It’s different with him because you don’t want to say goodbye. You could go hours longer listening to him and watching him assemble your computer. Though, before you can contemplate to do anything, Felix interrupts your inner monologue.

“Actually, I have an idea on how you can make it up to me.”

You look up at him expectantly, and you see the hint of a smirk tracing on his features.

“Let me take you out on a date. A real one.”

“A date?” You stutter.

“I know you said you texted me just because I could fix up computers, but I really enjoyed talking to you today.” He’s holding back a smile. “So, what do you say?”

“Okay.” His eyes light up, glazed with happiness as he processes your response.

“Okay? As in, I can take you out on a real date?”

“Yes.”

Felix can feel something sweet in his heart, can feel it flutter like it’s being squeezed. To his surprise, you’d actually agreed, and the genuine excitement in his smile is too wholesome to not stare at.

“So… goodnight then?”

“Goodnight.”

“I’ll text you?”

“Okay. I’ll be waiting.”

Felix fixes you with a look one last time, almost romantic with the soft glaze in his eyes. And then he’s stumbling out into your hallway.

With a second glance, he turns his back away from you and walks away. You can’t help but still feel the warmth of his smile.

You feel a compelling force telling you you’ll see much more of Lee Felix in the near future.

[solarwonux]

Business Proposal || knj (9/?)

pairing: namjoon x f!reader || ex friends to lovers!au friends to lovers!au

Genre: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, fwb!au, non idol!au, unrequited love

Warnings: slow burn, angst, fluff, flirting, semi-edited, smut, fingering, eating out, unprotected sex.

Rating: mature, 18+

w.c: 8.0

Synopsis: Namjoon is living on borrowed time, and it’s time to cash in. His father is months from taking his last breathe and his life long dream is to watch his oldest son say “I do.”

A/n: lol, hello, I'm sorry for being so MIA lately. I kinda have had half of this written since November but my mom came to visit me in Korea and I forgot about it haha. If you are still here thank you for sticking around! Enjoy! Let me know your thoughts!

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m.list | series m.list | wattpad

10 Years Ago

Things were finally looking up.

“If you just remember everything we have gone over you'll be fine.” He simply says like it's no big deal, waving you off. 

You on the other hand are filled with the gnawing pain of your nerves. As you look down at your notebook filled with an equal mixture of correct and incorrect answers. 

Maybe things weren't really looking up. 

“I think we should do a few more.” You rush out, flipping to a new page. In that exact moment, the buzzer in Namjoon's hand goes off, and he stands up. 

He pushes in his chair and walks to stand beside you, putting a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Over studying is not the answer.” He says gently, giving your shoulder a light squeeze before walking away to pick up your drinks. 

Your protest dying as you burn daggers into his back. You aren't sure if it's a good thing that he has so much faith in you. When you don't have an ounce in yourself. Especially when in two days you'll hopefully end your misery with the dreaded math final. 

It's been two whole months since you've started your weekly tutoring sessions with Namjoon. You aren't completely lost in class anymore. If you are, you just come to the broad man and drown him in all kinds of questions. With this tactic you've even managed to get an eighty-five present in your last math test. 

The only thing left for you to pass is the stupid final.

You have been seeing Namjoon a lot more this week. Scheduling, and practically begging him to squeeze you into his tight schedule since Monday. A request to brush up on equations and gain some clarity on things you might have forgotten. To say the least, your test anxiety has reached a whole new level. You visibly look exhausted, your skin is oilier than usual, sporting a few painful pimples on your chin, and your hair looks so greasy despite just washing it in the morning. You should feel slightly ashamed for even leaving your house looking like a hot mess, but your thoughts are suffocating. Staying in would make the panic in the pit of your stomach worse. 

Especially when you and your tutor have recently discovered your inability to do word problems. The main reason why you keep calling Namjoon at three in the morning. Even though he thinks you're just being paranoid, especially with the silent sigh of defeat you hear through your phone speaker. He tries his best to reassure you that you're going to be fine at the end of the day. 

“There will probably be three, five at most. He had said last night when you called. 

Thankfully he had stayed up revising his final paper, instead of being three dimensions deep in dream land like on Sunday when you called. Still, even though he had muttered out a tiny complaint, he stayed on the line with you. Until you were calm enough to fall asleep again. 

In just three months your acquaintance has blossomed into a full on friendship. Along with your sneaking suspicion that both Taehyung and Jimin like him better. It was obvious last Friday night when Jimin had a small end of the semester get together at his apartment. Namjoon got so drunk he performed the entirety of Grease Lightning on karaoke. Including the dance break with special guest and step brother Jeon Jungkook. 

Later on in the night the older of the four cried about the final scene in the Titanic. It was a rollercoaster of emotions, but heartwarming to be able to see a different side of the Philosophy student. 

“Look who decided to join us.” You jump, placing your pen down in your notebook, closing it to hold your page. You turn around, feeling a wide smile come onto your face when you lock eyes with the other source of your happiness these last few months. 

“Hobi,” you exclaim, holding your arms out to him. He chuckles, and leans down giving you one of those awkward hugs one gives when the other person is sitting down. It only lasts a few seconds and then he is leaning his head back to plant a sloppy kiss on your cheek, making you cringe. 

“Ew,” you pout, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand. He chuckles, pecking your lips lightly and then taking the seat next to you. 

“Joon says you need a break from being a math wizard.” He chuckles, dragging your notebook to him. He places his arms over it keeping it hostage.

You whine crossing your arms in front of you, pouting like a child. “But what if I don't pass. I don't want to have to take the class a third time.” 

Namjoon shakes his head, sets your chamomile tea in front of you, and sits down. “I already told you, you won't. I did the math last night. Even if you get a sixty five percent, you'll still be able to pass the class with a B.” He states firmly and takes a sip from his coffee. 

You huff, sinking further into the chair. “I don't want a B, I want an A.” 

Hoseok snakes an arm over your shoulders and brings you close to his side.” “Then you will pass the class with an A honey cakes.” He kisses your temple before resting his cheek on top of your head. You take a deep breath, nodding and snuggling closer to him.

“So are you two dating now?” Namjoon leans back in his seat, crossing his arms in front of him.

Hoseok waves an arm, brushing off the question that has been surrounding the two of you these past three weeks. “You know it's not like that.” He answers before you can. He pulls his arm away and sets them both on top of your notebook. He sends you a knowing wink. 

“Yeah you out of all people should know it's not like that.” You back up Hoseok, sticking your tongue out at the other. “How's Rina by the way?” You challenge making the man next to you burst out in a fit of giggles. 

You see, most of the things Jungkook told you about Namjoon prior to your first meeting have all been lies. Or just not the whole truth.

Namjoon was a broody person. He did put his studies as one of his priorities in life. And he didn't want a relationship. 

Yet in the last few months you have gotten to know the career driven man. You've also managed to peel back some of his layers. 

He did have his moments of indignation, but he could also be very playful and funny. This side mostly comes out when Hoseok is around or when he wants you to get your mind off the things that have been stressing you out. He does have a strong work ethic, but he also knows when to take a break. 

There have even moments in your tutoring slash now study sessions when he forces you to take walks. He says it helps clear your head, but you also know it's his way to get his ideas to flow again whenever he feels stuck. 

During these walks you've managed to find out more things about him. He loves museums because he's shit at art, and knowing that there are people out there who aren't makes him appreciate the art a lot more. At least once every two months he visits the tree he and his father planted his mother’s ashes at to update her on his life. He cares so much for Jungkook and his mother even if he doesn't show it all the time. And despite not wanting a relationship he has been head over heels for the girl he's been casually hooking up with for the last two years. 

Though he won't come out and say it himself. You have witnessed the way his face settles down into something calmer. And his eyes light up whenever his phone rings and her name pops up on the screen.

He once spent thirty minutes talking about a joke she had told him one night. Spoiler alert, it wasn't a good one, but it was adorable watching him try to get it out in-between chuckles. 

You also know he shares the same negative sentiment Jungkook has about your current relationship with his best friend. But just like he claims that his relationship with Rina is complicated. So, is yours with the ray of sunshine you get to now call friend.

“She's fine.” He shrugs, clearing his throat and looking out the window. You share a look with Hoseok before letting out a fit of shared giggles. 

If someone had once told you that your strict math tutor slash friend would turn into a shy mess with just the simple mention of a name. You would've thought they were fucking with you. Even if it still surprises you a little bit. 

“You should just ask her to be your girlfriend.” Hoseok chimes in. 

Namjoon throws his head back groaning. “It wouldn't work out if I do, plus that would require for me to act like a boyfriend and I'm not ready for that kind of commitment.” He speaks with his eyes trained on the high ceiling of the cafe. 

You lean forward placing your elbows on top of the table and wrapping your arms around the hot mug. “You already do Namjoon. A switch of labels is not going to change anything. And don't you think she deserves some kind of confirmation and respect when it comes to your relationship?” You finish tilting your head to the side. 

“I do respect her though, which is why I don't want to ask her, like you just said a label won't change anything.” 

You let out a sigh, “I didn't say that you didn't respect her. I just think that from a girl's perspective she might be feeling a little bit confused with your words and actions. You say the two of you aren't anything serious but then you act like you can't live without her. If I was in her shoes I would feel very frustrated. So, maybe you don't have to make this big grand gesture or ask her to officially be your girlfriend but just clarify things between the two of you. If you aren't serious about her then so be it but if you are then tell her that.” You finish and take your first sip from your tea. 

“I agree with honey cakes, just be a little more straight forward that's all.” Hoseok shrugs before standing up. 

Namjoon rolls his eyes, and looks between the two of you. “And what about you?” He counteracts childishly. You knew it was coming. In his eyes the two of you giving him advice when you're in a similar situation is a bit hypocritical. Plus you and Hoseok are on the same page so it's di–

“That's different.” Hoseok speaks before you. “And this is about your love life not ours.” He states stuffing his hands in his pockets. 

“Whatever.” Namjoon brushes off. You sigh, aware that if you choose to continue the conversation it will end in the three of you having a petty argument. You look at Hoseok as he leans down, placing a delicate kiss on your cheek, making the man witnessing the affectionate gesture scoff in annoyance. 

If he wants to say something he doesn't voice it instead he opens his leather bound notebook to a new page. 

Hoseok ignores him and stands up straight. “Are we still on tonight?” 

You nod. “I can't stay for long though I want to catch up on sleep.” 

“Fine then just one movie it is.” He winks before turning on his heels. Leaving you behind with the grumpy man. He looks up from his journal, opening his mouth, but you raise a hand to stop him. “It's different Namjoon.” 

Namjon clicks his tongue in annoyance and shrugs. “Whatever, let's just do one more world problem before calling it a day.” 

“Fine,” you huff, sliding your notebook in front of you and opening it to a clean page. 

Just one more day and you'll be free from this torture. 

Hoseok's apartment is everything you expect from the maximest man. Just upon walking in you are hit with waves of bright colors. By the doorway there are different KAWS figurines that you can only imagine cost a fortune. Yet they greet you with their x'd out eyes as you remove your shoes. 

Then you have to pass by the Supreme beaded curtain to finally enter the living room. A bright red leather couch is settled in the middle. With wine colored pillows and a black throw blanket that you've adopted since the first night you spent in Hoseok's arms.

Abstract art lines the walls behind the television. There are more figurines lining the shelves in between books, records, and framed pictures of his friends and families. Along with a few miscellaneous items that he's told you he's obtained over the years.

His TV is huge. Takes up almost the whole wall, but your favorite to watch movies since he installed a surround system upon moving in years ago. 

You still remember the first night he invited you over. It was after spending two whole weeks texting non stop. He simply asked if you wanted to watch a movie with him and you thought why not. 

One night led to another and now another. It always starts the same. The two of you spend days teasing one another through text. Lewd texts along with pictures. You come over for a movie and then you end up underneath him. 

When it's over, he lets you use his shower while he orders takeout from the vegan restaurant a block down the road. And the two of you resume watching the movie as if neither of you were panting each other's names in pleasure. 

A simple arrangement with absolutely no strings attached.

It was what you were expecting when you came over tonight. Not that you don't mind the nights in which you do come over and nothing happens other than the deep hearted talks over a slow record playing in the background. But that wasn't happening either, because ever since you arrived at his doorstep, the overzealous man has been quiet. Biting the inside of his cheek and moving around you far enough to raise suspicion. 

It has your mind traveling back to the conversation that occurred in the afternoon. Was Hoseok having second thoughts? Or was there more to his actions than what you were picking up? 

“Hobi,” you whisper the minute he enters his living room with a bowl of popcorn stepping over your legs that were resting on his coffee table. He silently settles down next to you, on the other side of the couch with a gap wide enough to fit a person in between. 

Now you're more than positive that something is wrong. 

You groan, “I think I'll just go home then.” You mumble, pushing the throw blanket of your shoulders. 

This is enough to catch his attention. His eyes are wide behind his dark rimmed glasses and he sits up. “What why?” He tilts his head in confusion. 

A dry chuckle escapes your lips. “You obviously don't want me around, so I'll just go. I need to go to sleep early anyway.” You shrug, slipping your feet in his fuzzy slippers and swiftly start making your way to grab your stuff in his room. 

“No I–wait.” Finally, he speaks up, earning an eye roll from you that he can't see as your back is still turned. 

With haltered steps you spin on your heel to face him again, “What? You've been acting strange since I got here. So, if you don't want me around I will just go home.” 

At lightning speed he sets the bowl of popcorn on his coffee table, and stands up. He makes hasty steps towards you and when he is finally standing in front of you, he sets both of his hands on top of your shoulders. 

“Don't leave…I'm sorry.” Hoseok's eyes cast down past your face. They settle upon the graphic on your old washed out t-shirt. He takes a deep breath and looks up again. His face twists into something you can't decipher. It's a look you've never seen him wear, and it settles hard into your chest. 

He looks troubled, chewing on the inside of his cheek. His eyes dart to five different focal points. You know he's arguing with himself. When he finally looks at you in your eyes again. You can't help but shrink a little bit. 

His features have hardened, and you want to reach out to smooth over the little worry lines in the middle of his forehead. Guilt washes over you. 

For what? 

You don't know but you hope more than anything that you'll soon find out. 

“Can we talk?” He speaks up, letting his arms fall down, his knuckles brushing against your skin. 

For a second you think he's going to pull away. Retrieve into his body, but when he grabs your hands and laces his fingers with yours. The guilt in the pit of your stomach dissipates and you're left with confusion. 

When you don't answer his question, he repeats himself. This time differently, “I just think we need to talk, I've been thinking since this afternoon. I want to check up on you, and I guess us.” He clarifies, and now you're filled with a different kind of emotion. As much as you're relieved that you didn't do anything wrong per se. You are slightly annoyed that he couldn't just tell you that when you first arrived. Instead of ignoring you until you reached your breaking point. 

Frustrated, you say slowly, “Then just say that, instead of ignoring me.” 

Hoseok closes his eyes and sighs, nodding his head before speaking, “you're right I'm sorry. I just have a lot on my mind and I am not sure how to bring any of what I'm thinking about up.” 

“Hobi, just say it. We agreed on clear communication when we realized that this was going to be more than just a one night stand.” You sigh, beginning to walk in the direction of his couch, stringing him along. “Whatever is on your mind, just say it.” You push him onto his couch and take the seat next to him, your body fully facing his, and you fold your legs beneath you. 

He nods, running a hand down his face. “I don't think this is working anymore.” He whispers, eyes trained on his ceiling. 

Okay you were definitely not expecting that, but instead of voicing your surprise, you squeeze his hand. Encouraging him to continue. 

He does, “I think I'm slowly falling for you, well I don't know I'm confused about my feelings.” He whispers the end and falls quiet. 

As much as you want to run away and hide at his confession. He looks troubled and you wouldn't be a good friend if you just left him to wallow in his thoughts. No matter the pressure that has settled in your chest. Or the fact that your heart thinks you're running a marathon, making your ears feel like they're about to fall off too. 

With every passing moment you're finding that it's getting harder to breathe. You aren't dumb, the atmosphere has also changed, but it isn't because of his confession. It's because you are also a bit confused about your feelings.

You clear your throat, “W-What are you confused about?” 

He stops his staring game with the ceiling, shifting his whole body to finally face you. “Do you know why both Kook and Joon are so against us?” 

The question throws you off guard but you suppose it has to do with what he's going through. You do have an idea as to why your friends are raising a brow at your relationship. Jungkook’s warning the first day you met the barista is enough for you to get a rough idea of what they mean. But you want to hear it from him. 

Still you don't know if you can trust your voice so you shake your head. 

He continues, “I've never been in a relationship because I don't trust people to love me the way I know I can love them. So, I just sleep around, and when I get bored I break it off.” 

 “I know. They warned me about you when you immediately showed interest. And trust me I knew what I signed up for when we agreed to keep seeing each other. I don't expect anything more than what we are doing.” You tilt your head to the side.

“I know that's why I'm confused. At first that's all I expected and wanted. But then I don't know I feel so full and empty when I'm with you. I don't want you to leave when the night is over. You're the last thing I think about and the first thing I want to see. I've never felt this sure and comfortable with anyone ever, and I don't know what to do because we both know this isn't forever, your forever is with someone else, and so is mine. But for now I just want to be with you and know what it's like to fall in love and with you.” He takes a deep breath. “Even if it's just for a little bit. You know that next year I'll be leaving for that design school, and I'm sorry but nothing and no one is going to stop me. I've waited too long for this opportunity. I know I'm being selfish to ask you this, but can you please find it in your heart to let me be yours until then?” 

Hoseok finishes. And you're left to your own devices. To deal with your emotions as they spill out of you in hot tears. You've never had someone confess to you so passionately before. Actually nobody has ever bothered. And even though it's semi depressing you can't help but feel on cloud nine with all his words wrapping around you in the warmth that he radiates. 

Without thinking you kneel, and wrap your arms around his neck. “Okay let's do it.” You beam and he matches your smile. He leans in to kiss you but you place your hand over his mouth to stop him. 

Confusion plagues him like a bitter sting. You laugh, “But only if you agree that when everything is over there's no drama between us, and if I ever get married you have to design my wedding dress.” You remove your hand, and cradle his cheek, rub your thumb over his eyebrow. 

He chuckles, rolling his eyes. “You will get married.” 

“Nah, but it's okay. I've accepted my faith.” You shrug, resting your forehead against his. His hands come up your cheek, squishing them slightly.

“You will honey cakes, that's why I'm already planning your dress design in my head.” He wipes your forgotten tears, and tilts your head to the side. 

You feel your breathing get faster, as his heart shaped lips rest centimeters apart. “How are you so sure?” You whisper, swallowing thickly at the end. 

He smirks, with a glint in his eye. Like he knows something you don't, “because I know someone who is also falling for you but they’re to dumb to notice “ 

“Who?” 

“Secret,” he says before finally crashing his lips onto yours.

Hoseok’s room is equally as loud as his living room. It’s a little more diluted with simple decorations and a huge abstract painting on the wall in front of his bed. His bed takes up most of his space, adoring a black duvet with black sheets. He has three pillows and two of those you’ve taken ownership of. His brown dresser holds little trinkets of things he buys or finds in the pockets of his pants. It’s also home to a series of designer colognes. Your favorite one was definitely Terre d'Hermes. Somehow the smell always fills with comfort. 

Your favorite part of his room–other than his bed–was his desk. They say you can tell a lot about a person by just looking at their work space. 

He’s a messy artist. His sketches are always thrown around, or pinned on the corkboard hanging over his desk. He has two bookshelves filled with sketchbooks and magazines. Sometimes if you’re lucky he will leave his sketchbooks open, awarding you with a small glance of his work. He has different notebooks for different magazine cutouts. Each one labeled something like, ‘street’ or ‘formal’ or ‘one-day.’ The latter always peaks your interest but you’ve never thought to ask. He has a thousand different sketching materials, and so many colorful markers. You just know that he was that kid in class with the sixty-four crayola back. 

He's passionate about his craft. A passion that shines through everything that he does. Especially when he’s sharing that passion with you. Now, as he lays you down onto his soft mattress. He kisses his way down your neck, slowly pushing your shirt up to reveal your stomach and the few stretch marks that appeared one day in your early adolescent years. 

For years it was hard to be intimate with someone in fear that they would disgust your partner. But the one thing you learned while growing up was that most men didn’t give a shit unless they were getting it. 

Yet Hoseok, your boyfriend, now. 

He cares. 

In a good way. The first time he saw you naked he almost came in his jeans. Your curves were all in the right places. You have enough skin to grip onto, and he loves all the marks and imperfections your body has. 

He couldn’t understand why you were so beautiful in the soft glow of his bedroom lights? Why he didn’t have the words to describe how his heart was literally beating against his ribcage?  Why for the first time in his casual dating experience he feared he wouldn't be able to give you the pleasure you deserved? 

So, that first night together, he took his time. Trying to get his thoughts under control. He painted your body with featherlight kisses. Determined to leave his trace imprinted in your body for however long you two would engage with each other. 

Everytime you came over. He did just that. He took his time, choreographing a dance with your body. It was a no-brainer that he had fallen for you. Something he knew shouldn’t have happened. He had plans for himself. He had a future mapped out since he was teenage. Though, he had the sneaking suspicion that you wouldn’t stop him from achieving his goals. That you would support him through everything. He should’ve stopped his feelings for you from growing. 

He kept them quiet until his portfolio got accepted. Until he saw the brief glances Namjoon gave you when he thought you weren’t looking. Perhaps it was the jealousy that made him confess. Or that his time with you was now limited. Whatever the reason was that led him to his confession, he only hoped that you felt the same. 

You giggle, the beautiful melodic sound grounds him as he wraps a calloused hand around your right breast, circling his thumb around the pebble. 

You're his girlfriend now. 

He, your boyfriend and he will bring down the moon for you tonight if you asked him too. 

“What’s so funny?” His curious stare meets your amused one. 

You had failed to keep your giggles at bay while he made out with you on his couch. He let a few of his own out when he had had enough of kissing and grinding in his living room, and guided you into his room. 

He loved the sound, and he loved that it was only because after months of dancing this tango you were still shy underneath him. 

“Nothing, it’s just that Mickey is staring at us.” You whisper gasping when he grinds his lower half against yours. Hoseok playfully rolls his eyes, reaching and turning around the newly added picture of his family dog on his bedside table. No more prying dog or human eyes around to interrupt the two of you. 

His attention returns to you. Gaze burning with lust as he leans down, pecking your lips lightly. “Can you stay over?” He says, kneading your breast again. The teasing touches were driving you insane. But this is how you preferred it. Slow and intense, tangling your body with his, until the two of you became one. 

“I’ll make an exception if you promise to drive me to my class tomorrow with a free coffee.” You smile, pushing your chest into his hand. 

He shook his head, reaching down to your lips. “Hustler.” He mumbles, capturing your mouth in a slow sensual kiss. “You got yourself a deal baby girl.” 

Your body shudders at the nickname. He only used it when it was just the two of you. He knew the effect it had on you. “Can I take your shirt off now?” He smirks. 

You let out a pleasurable sigh, nodding your head, before verbalizing a soft, “yes.” 

He pulls away, sitting back on his heels, peeling his shirt off before helping you with yours. He discards the two of them somewhere behind him. He pulls you towards him again, resting his forehead against yours. A bright smile adorning his perfect face. 

It makes your stomach crumble, knowing that from this moment on.

Hoseok would always be the one who got away. 

Your big “what if.” 

Your biggest treasure. Your safe place. Your blueprint for a future with someone else. The love story that was made to end. But one that burned so bright that would have you telling your future daughter to never be afraid of love. 

“Can we go slow today?” You run your hands down his torso, playing with the belt buckle of his expensive belt. 

“I’ll go at whatever pace you want me to go, baby girl.” He reassures,  his fingers play with the bra strap that had fallen down your shoulder. 

You tilt your head, looking at him with soft eyes. And he swears he feels himself melt. 

The next few minutes were a mess of soft kisses and clothes being discarded. Each article of clothing, landing with a soft ‘thud’ against his bedroom floor. You’re on cloud nine, his lips kiss down your neck, your collarbone. His hands part your thighs, baring your cunt to him. He sits back, mouth watering at how wet you are. He couldn’t wait for a taste. 

He could never wait. And he never did. 

He kisses your mound before wrapping his lips around your clit. He savors the sigh that escapes your mouth. He smirks when he immediately feels you grip his hair, pushing him further. Just like he couldn’t resist, you also couldn’t.

He sucked, distracting you from his finger circling around your entrance making you gasp in surprise when you feel him insert one. Slowly thrusting it as he licked you like a man who has been starved for weeks. 

“Hobi,” You sigh, pushing his head further. He fingers you faster until he feels you clench around him, and he stops, making you whine. 

“Please,” you plead. He chuckles against you, inserting another finger. This time he doesn’t give you time to adjust. You feel him thrust into you with no hesitation. His mouth sucking on your clit, swirling his tongue around it playing with the nub. 

You were withering, moaning his name, and anything your mind could conjure up in this moment. 

Overwhelmed with blissful pleasure, you grip his bed sheets, bucking your hips into his face. He groans, knowing you were on edge from how tight your grip on his head was now. And he did the one thing he knew would drive you insane. He slowed down, until he came to a complete stop. 

“Hoseok,” you groan, slamming your hand onto his comforter. He chuckles, lifting his head. Your body was flushed, your lips swollen, your hair splayed out around you. He loves bringing you to this moment. 

“You said you wanted slow.” He grins, taking his fingers out of your pussy. Loving the way it clenched over nothing now. Almost as if it was begging to be played with again. 

You roll your eyes, pouting. “Not this slow. I want to come.” You say, sitting up on your elbows. 

“Oh baby you will.” He winks, licking his fingers clean. He leans over, pecking your lips quickly. “You will come as many times as you want. But I want the first one to be around my cock tonight.” 

You gasp at his words. You knew his mouth was lethal but sometimes it still surprises you. The lust lacing with his soft timbre made you weak in the knees. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, grabbing his face and kissing him hard. 

The word ‘slow’ is forgotten from either of your vocabularies, while the two of you kiss hungrily. Sucking on tongues, teeth clashing, hands touching and clutching onto anything and everything. 

Hoseok lays you down on your side, climbing in behind you. His teeth nips at your bottom lip and he wrapped your leg around his hips. He kisses down your neck, while you help guide his cock to your entrance. He locks his eyes with yours as he slowly pushes himself in. His arms wrap around your torso, and he pushes you closer to his chest. 

Both of your heartbeats are in sync. Racing against the clock, basking in pleasure that you never want it to end. 

“Move please.” You say, lifting your face to kiss him. 

He begins to move his hips, making you gasp into each other's mouths. It’s a sloppy pace from the start but you don't care. You want more, so you met his thrusts halfway. One of his hands palms at your breast. He alternates between swallowing your moans and leaving his mark on anything he can get his lips on. 

“B-Baby.” He moans, resting his forehead on yours. “I’m close, are you?” He thrusts, letting out a low moan when he feels you clench around him.

He didn’t give you a minute to answer, before he was lifting your leg higher around his waist, allowing himself to reach the deepest part of you. “Touch yourself baby.” 

You moan his name, letting go of his hand, your finger meeting your clit, rubbing it in circles. Trying to keep up with his unrelenting pace. And soon you feel him still behind you, eyes shutting in pleasure as he spills himself inside of you. His orgasm triggers the coil in the pit of your stomach as you feel your release wash over you in a tidal wave, making you push his cock and cum out of you. His fingers frantically come down to meet yours as he helps you ride out your wave. He whispers praises against your skin while you come down.

Hoseok kisses your lips slowly, chuckling before whispering words that you will forever hold near and dear to your heart. 

“I love you.” He pushes your hair away from your face. “I love you so much to know that one day I’ll have to let you go.”

You giggle, turning in his arms, nuzzling your head into his neck. “I love you.” 

You feel him laugh, twinkling his fingers down your spine, “Let’s get matching tattoos.” 

You look up at him, raising a brow before shaking your head. “You just made me squirt, told me you loved me, and now you want to get matching tattoos?” 

“What better way to commemorate the best ego boost.” He shrugs. 

“You’re insane.” You untangle yourself from his embrace. You stand up, putting on his shirt. 

“I didn’t hear a no.” He says smugly, putting his arms underneath his head. 

“Because you’re an insane idiot who makes me agree to things like these.” You smile, before walking out of his room. 

“Great, I’ll make an appointment.” He shouts after you, “I love you.” He adds after a moment. 

You enter his kitchen, and turn on the lights. You can feel your smile take up your entire face. For a moment you realize that for the first time in a long time you felt happy. 

So yeah, maybe, things were finally looking up. 

“You’re late.”

Namjoon says after taking a slow sip from his coffee. He looks at you from over the rim of his glasses. 

You roll your eyes, setting your bag down on the empty chair. “It's raining, and I forgot my umbrella. I had to wait for the rain to stop.”

“You could’ve texted to let me know.” He shrugs, setting his cup down on the coaster and flipping the page of his book. 

You sigh, before (gently) throwing your phone onto the table. “It’s dead. And before you ask, no I didn’t bring a charger. No, Jungkook wasn’t in class today so he couldn’t give me a charger, an umbrella, or a ride. Jimin is sick. And Taehyung doesn’t even go to our school. He's probably getting high with his new fling, so I wouldn’t have been able to ask him either.” You say, listing all the solutions he would’ve thought about in seconds. 

“Mhm,” he nods, closing his book. “And your boyfriend?”

Annoyed, you let out a whine, crossing your arms in front of you. “I don’t know, let me go downstairs and ask him. I’m sure he can stop managing a business to give me an umbrella.” 

Namjoon leans his elbows against the table. “Trouble in paradise?” He tilts his head, clasping his hands on top of his book. 

You shake your head, pulling out your chair and slumping down in it. “Hobi and I are fine. It’s not like he’s leaving in two months or anything.” You throw your hands up in exasperation. 

It’s month seven into your shining relationship with Hoseok, and you should’ve known that things would start to hit the fan sooner rather than Later. Your boyfriend was in the middle of the most tumultuous change of his life. Things were moving quickly and his time dedicated to you was bumped down his monstrous daily to-do list. 

Yet you couldn’t do or say anything because isn’t this what you signed up for? 

“Ah, so there is trouble.” Namjoon chuckles before opening his book again, setting his fancy leather bookmark aside. “This is exactly why I don’t do relationships, they just attract problems.” He adds, giving you a pointed look. 

You roll your eyes, “Shut up asshole, not all of us can be like you and Rina.” 

“Sure you can, it's simple just don't attach any strings to it.” He shrugs, underlining a sentence in his book. 

“Two people who have been only exclusively seeing each other for years literally the definition of strings attached. You can keep denying it all you want but she’s your girlfriend. You guys do all the couple-y stuff.” You grumble, leaning back in your chair, looking out of the window. The gloomy weather adds to your shitty mood. 

“She’s not, we are not dating, and I don’t need to talk about this with you again. Rina and I are on the same page.” He finishes, taking a long sip from his coffee.

“Well, how would you feel if Rina was spending time with another guy, completely ignoring your presence when you walk into her coffee shop all wet and angry because your professor basically told you your topic for your essay was shit.”

Namjoon smirks, leaning back in his chair. “Sounds like you’re jealous of Yuri.” 

“So what if I am?” You bite, “I understand that he’s training her to take over his position, but all he talks about is her and what he needs to teach her when we’re together. And whenever I come in they’re always laughing at something behind the coffee machine. And I know she’s nice and all but I would like his attention too.” You scoff. 

Namjoon hums, tapping his index finger against the table. “Do you trust him?” 

The question doesn’t catch you off guard, the obvious answer is on the tip of your tongue. But with how things have been going lately. You can’t help but hesitate. 

“I don’t know anymore.” You whisper looking down at your hands, turning the ring on your middle finger. “I know I should, and I do…I think I do. It’s just things have been so shit lately and I feel like a burden to him because of everything he has to do.” 

Namjoon lightly kicks your foot under the table, making you raise your head to meet his gaze. “I don’t know if I am being of much help, but he loves you. I know that whatever is happening he’s not doing it intentionally. Just talk to him about it.” 

If only it were that easy. 

“I’d love to but he never has time.” 

“Why not talk to him now then.” He says reaching into his bag to take out his cigarettes and lighter. 

“He’s busy downstairs with Yu–” 

“No, I’m not busy now.” 

You jump at the sound of your boyfriend's voice. You turn your head to look at him. A small tray with a mug of probably chamomile tea on top of it. His hair is shorter than the last time you saw him two days ago. He got a haircut and didn’t even tell you about it. That’s how low you have made it on his list. He can’t even send you a stupid picture of his new haircut. He can’t even send you a ‘goodmorning’ or ‘goodnight’ text. He also probably forgot that you were nervous for the meeting with your professor about your essay topic.

All these realizations make you want to roll into a ball and cry. You knew your time with Hoseok was limited. You just didn’t expect for the end to be so torturous. 

“That’s what I told her.” Namjoon speaks, narrowing his eyes at you for a second before turning his attention to his best friend. “She’s jealous of Yuri, because you’ve been spending too much time with her.” He shrugs, walking quickly to the stairs before you can bury him ten feet underground. 

You hear Hoseok let out a heavy sigh, and take the seat next to you. “Honeycakes,” he starts.

“Nice haircut.” You interrupt, slumping into your chair more. It earns another heavy sigh from the man sitting next to you. 

“Is Yuri the reason why you’ve been so upset lately?” He says placing a hand on top of your knee underneath the table. 

You let out a dry laugh before shaking your head. “No, it’s not her. It’s how you’ve been acting lately, it’s the time you’ve been spending with her. It's never having time for me anymore. It’s forgetting our date last week. It’s not even telling me that you got a haircut.” You finish, closing your fists to keep yourself from crying. 

Hoseok gives your thigh a squeeze before leaning back in his chair. “You know how things have been lately. I’m trying so hard to do everything I need to do. I don’t mean to be so dismissive but I can’t juggle everything at the same time.” 

You flick off a piece of lint from your jeans. “It’s nice to know that I’m just something you juggle around.” 

“That’s not what I meant. You knew what would happen when I started my application process. You said you understood.” 

“I did, or I thought I did Hoseok. I didn’t think I would become so secondary to you.” You sniffle. “I love that you’re chasing your dreams, but this is me trying to support you. I’m trying to understand how you’re feeling. But you stop me. You have shut me out and now I’m just something you remember sometimes.” You close your eyes, feeling the tears fall down your cheeks. 

The last thing you wanted was to be crying like this in public. 

“I-I want you to tell me when you’re having a hard time like you used to. I want you to feel like you can relax around me when we’re together. But every time we are together, we either argue, you don’t talk, or you talk about work, deadlines, or how you can’t wait to move. How do you think that makes me feel Hoseok?” 

Hoseok sighs, and wraps his arm around your shoulders. “I’m sorry.” He kisses your temple. “I wish you would’ve told me earlier before it got to this point.” He whispers, rubbing your back, while you lean your head onto his shoulder. 

“But Hobi like you said, this is what I signed up for. This is what I agreed to.”  You add bitterly. 

“Yes Honeycakes, but you’re still my girlfriend. And I know that I haven’t been the best boyfriend lately, but I do care about you and I do love you.” He lifts your head from his shoulder. He gently grabs hold of your face, making you look at him. “Just like how you want me to talk to you when something is bothering me, I also want you to talk to me.” 

You close your head sighing, “You’re right, I’m sorry that I keep making things difficult.” 

He shakes his head. “You don’t. I’m the one that can’t seem to keep my girlfriend from doubting me. I’m the one who hasn’t told her how much I yearn to be in her presence at every waking moment.” He says, his thumbs wiping away your tears. “I love you, and I think that’s why I’ve been so avoidant lately. I know that our days are numbered and I would rather ignore the fact that I’m moving away soon than cherish the moments I get to spend with my family, my friends and you.” 

You nod, holding out your pinky out to him. “I promise to keep trying my best.” 

He hooks his pinky with yours bringing your laced fingers up to his lips. “I promise to keep trying my best too.” 

“I love you,” You whisper, letting go of his finger and wrapping your arms around his waist. 

His low laugh makes his chest vibrate against your head, “I love you.” He adds, rubbing soothing circles over your back. “Now, can you please drink your tea before you get a cold. I texted you earlier asking if you needed an umbrella but you didn’t answer. And now look at you coming in here all pouty and wet.”  

You raise your head to look at him, opening your mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by the forgotten voice of your friend. “Her phone’s dead.” Namjoon throws his lighter onto the wooden table. 

Hoseok tsks shaking his head, reaching over to push the tray of your lukewarm tea closer to you. “I should’ve known. I knew you didn’t charge it last night, just like I knew that you left your umbrella at my place.” He pinches your cheek. “How did your meeting go?” 

“He basically said that I need to restart my essay topic over again.”

Hoseok laughs, bopping your nose with his own. “Well did he say those exact words?” 

“No but it was basically implied.”  You emphasize. 

“Fine, I’ll talk to your study partner if my baby isn’t being told that she’s a genius all the time, then what am I paying him for.” He jokes, which earns a glare from said study partner. 

“You’re not paying me, idiot.” Namjoon rolls his eyes, grabbing his brown leather messenger back and stuffing his cigarettes into the front pocket. 

He’s grateful that he came back to smiles and not tears. The stoicness of his actions makes the two of you laugh hard. Your laugh resonates longer in his mind. It always does. No matter how much he tries to deny it. You always resonate longer in his mind. But he pushes that fleeting thought aside. 

Namjoon is happy. 

His friends are happy. 

Things in his life were finally looking up. 

“I have to go, but don’t be late next time and charge your phone.” He says hoisting his bag onto his shoulders. 

You nod, saluting in his direction, before bursting out into a fit of giggles as Hoseok tickles your side. 

Namjoon doesn’t stay for longer than he needs to. He’s already running late to meet Rina, but he can’t hide the smile taking up his space.

He can’t help but feel proud that things were finally looking up for you too. 

a/n: I hope you have enjoyed it. I will try not to be so MIA and upload a little more frequently rather than every 6 months haha. But my life has been pretty busy lately. In the past few months. I have moved to a different part of Seoul and I got a new job. I basically just hang out with my friends when I have free time haha. I also do dance class 3 times a week, and I started personal training last week. But I will try to manage my time better because I do miss writing and this story!

[blushweddinggowns]

Steddie Drunk Dialing Fluff

Steve Harrington-Munson was probably one of the happiest men to be alive in the modern era. He had the perfect life, against all odds. Because apparently having your late teens and early twenties ruined by demons equated to a fantastic adulthood.

He had it all. A loving family, the best friend/surrogate sister he could ever ask for, and he was married to the love of his life. And okay, yes. That had included some extremely embarrassing revelations and internal meltdowns and... a pretty brutal disownment. But he had figured it all out in the end. And here he was, a decade later with a ring on his finger and a nice hyphenated name. Not to mention how he was basically a trophy husband.

Eddie hadn't wasted a moment of the last decade. A symptom of almost dying it would seem. He went for the GED, gathered the band back up, moved across the country to chase his dreams and play in every shitty dive bar he could until they were discovered. All while dragging Steve along for the ride.

As much as Steve had believed in him, neither of them had been prepared for his music career actually taking off. Especially not to the level it did. It was undeniable that his husband was an A-Lister, despite how universally hated he was by half the country. You don't get many out and proud metal front man who loved parading around his high school sweetheart at every social event he could. But Europe loved him, as did the entirety of gay, rebellious youths world wide.

It was so stupid. There Eddie was, painted as an insane freak who was fake-married. With tabloids running story after story about his secret children, his drug addiction, a wife from another country, anything that they could think of. All while Eddie spent every free moment at Steve's side, always opting for a night in with his baby when given the choice. And when he wasn't doing that, he was busy playing surrogate fun uncle to the kids, who were definitly not kids anymore. But that didn't stop them from all getting together for Dungeons and Dragons once a month, hundreds and hundreds of campaign hours on everyone's belts. And that was his life. Spending time with his family, forcing them on hikes and runs, volunteering, working occasionally to help Robin with her translating work, all while coming home to the sweetest thing that ever existed.

God, did Steve love that man. Reminiscing about the love of his life while he was on tour was not helping his fretful sleep. He just... really had given him everything. He loved him so much in fact that he was only slightly pissed when he was woken up at three a.m. from the phone ringing off the hook.

Steve reached for it blindly, still half-asleep when he mumbled, "Mm-Eds?"

"Steeeeeeeeeevie," Eddie's voice slurred back at him, "Baby booooy. How's my baby boy? I miss my baby boy."

Steve smiled despite himself, yawning into the phone. Eddie was lucky he was so cute, considering how the love of his life who could not remember what time zones were, "He misses you too. And he's a little tired right now babe. What's up?"

"Day drunk," Eddie sighed, "Guys, morning show, mimosas, hotel room to sleep it off. Missing you."

"You won't be missing me for long," Steve softly laughed. Though... hearing his voice was quite the reminder of how cold the bed suddenly felt, "Just... one more week. That's not too long right?"

"Too long!" Eddie groaned, dramatic, "I miss you now. Why can't I see you now? Wait-Can I see you now? Cause planes and trains and-"

"And no," Steve interrupted with a chuckle, "You'd only get me for a few hours before you'd have to leave again."

"Worth it," Eddie mumbled out, his voice a little muffled as he tumbled around in his hotel bed, "Want my baby."

The pathetic tilt to his voice was enough to make Steve's heart clench. God he was too precious. Suddenly a red-eye in the middle of the night for a two hour make-out session didn't sound like such a bad idea. But he could be the strong one for tonight, "You have me sweetheart. Want me to stay on until you fall asleep."

"Yes please," Eddie sighed, "Love your voice. It's so... nice. Like... audible perfume. Like poetry or something."

"Oh baby you are wasted," Steve said as he laid back down, nestling the phone to his ear, "Please tell me you drank some water before laying down?"

"... maybe?"

"Babe."

"I knoooow. Keep nagging me though. I missed that too."

"Is my bitching your bed time story?"

He could hear Eddie nodding, rusting against the fabric, "And it's the best. Keep going?"

Steve rolled his eyes, but he did what he was asked. Saying every silly little grievance he could think of. He whined about how cold it was in bed without him, how Eddie had promised to take out the trash before he left and forgot. Again. How he hated how quiet it was without him, how much he missed hearing his voice trailing in and out of every room.

And Eddie listened, mumbling out a few sleepy m'sorrys and I love yous along the way. Until all Steve could hear was the slow, steady sound of his breathing. But he didn't hang up. Not when that was one of his favorite sounds in the world. And the perfect thing to fall asleep to.

Steve smiled to himself as he closed his eyes, a little amazed that Eddie could still make him feel so loved, from hundreds of miles away.

But one thing was for sure. He still had to be the happiest man on earth.

[uglypastels]

Not Wholly Evil |X| pirate!Eddie au

a/n here it is. the final chapter. I am so excited to share it with you all, just as much as it pains me that it actually is coming to an end. I've worked on this story for almost a year, and it had been a risk I had no idea how it would play out, but seeing how much everyone has enjoyed this story and supported me in my little experiment really made all the days I say in front of my computer screaming worth it <3 thank you all so so much for trusting the process

Series Masterlist

word count: 14.3k

"semi dark fic" - READ the warnings:. (gun/sword)violence. blood. mention of severe wounds. minor character death. allusions to suicide. kidnapping. imprisonment. alcohol. open and deep sea. near-death experiences. hanging. men are pigs: implied mentions of past abusive experiences [of background characters]. malnourishment and weight loss. paranoia. mention of poisoning. abuse. manhandling. lying. prison. capital punishment.

there will be several mentions of other ST characters in this chapter, and some instances might not be the most favourable of portrayals, but this is not to indicate my opinion on them. I am simply intertwining universes. there is also a name spelled differently than in the shows and that's just for the sake of the setting.

Chapter 10: Lock and Key

“Some pirates achieved immortality by great deeds of cruelty or derring-do. Some achieved immortality by amassing great wealth. But the captain had long ago decided that he would, on the whole, prefer to achieve immortality by not dying.” ― Terry Pratchett, The Color of Magic

Everything went into chaos, happening so quickly that you genuinely got the sensation of being frozen in time and space, just letting everything around you go by, unable to intervene. Your mind could not work at that speed to understand everything that was happening, too far down into a shock to catch up. But when you finally did, you screamed. 

‘No, father, no.’ You tried to push yourself away from him, but his grip was too firm. Even if you had, the chances of getting past the barricade of armed bodies to Eddie was impossible. ‘You can’t do that!’ you trashed around in his arms like a wild fish out of water. 

All your father did was pull you closer, further away from Eddie, who you could just make out from between the uniforms and bayonets. The glimpses you got of his face showed a stoic expression. He wasn’t even trying to fight it. The last thing you saw before you were turned around and practically handed over to someone was the chains on his wrists. 

‘Take her away from here,’ your father told his closest guard, ‘she’s hysteric.’ And perhaps you were, as you kept screaming at them to let go of you. The pleas quieted down the further from the harbour you got, changing into silent sobs by the time you reached the gardens of your home.

‘It’s alright, miss,’ the guard tried to calm you as best as possible. ‘You’re safe now.’ 

The pearly white building towered over you as you entered its shadows, and as soon as you did, you saw almost the entirety of the house staff standing in the main hall, awaiting you. Their faces blurred with their welcoming greetings and sweet words of comfort. A woman took you from the guard, immediately guiding you up the stairs, mumbling something to him and shouting about to the rest of the people around. You could not place any name to her face, and having always been quite good with remembering people, you could only assume she had been a new addition to the staff since you had last been home. Looking over everyone around you, most of them must have been. 

That’s right. Your father had always been keen on replacing the staff but usually had been around to witness it, take in the new batch from the beginning, and, most importantly, say goodbye to the old ones.

You wanted to protest at every corner you turned up to your room, but the group of maids that had accumulated around you was like a forcefield, unbreakable. One of them opened the large double doors that led to your room. There was barely any time for you to sink in the feeling of being back in it after so many weeks as you were pushed through another pair of doors. There, a bath had already been prepared, the water steaming hot. You let yourself be dragged to the centre of the room and mechanically put your arms up for the ladies to take your dress off. Had they always been this rough? 

They mumbled about the state of your dress to one another as if you weren’t even there, and in their defence, you weren’t. Your mind was miles away, barely aware of what was going on. The only thing that pulled you back into the room was the gasp of the women as your dress fell to the floor. You looked down at where all their eyes had locked in on. 

‘Did they do this to you, miss?’ One of them asked, pointing in fear at the scar on your ribs. It had gotten much smaller over the weeks, but compared to the rest of you, you could imagine how grotesque it might look to people like them. 

‘Uhm, no,’ you mumbled, ‘I tripped. On our ship.’ You barely recognised your voice as you spoke, too tired to put any emotion into them. The women looked at each other hesitantly before continuing on with their tasks. 

 You just about felt the hot water burn as they got you into the bath or poured it over your head to wash your hair. The scrub of the cloths over your limbs did practically nothing. All you could do was stare out ahead of you at the hawk engraved into the wood panelling on the wall across from you and how you had always seen it as a sign of comfort but now noticed how angry its eye looked. Staring directly at you at all times. You lulled your head slowly, trying to get it to look away, but it just followed you around until someone grabbed you by the side to stop you from twisting. 

‘Sorry, miss. Just trying to get out this knot.’ One of them said as she combed out your hair, tugging your entire head back against the edge of the bath. 

You had not even realised how much grime came with being on a boat full of pirates for weeks. Even though you had tried to wash yourself regularly, there was never enough fresh water. By the time the ladies were done, the water had gone cold, and your whole body was red and sore from the scrubbing.  You could barely feel your fingertips, but your nails were perfect again. 

Trembling, you got out of the bath and quickly were wrapped up in linen to soak up the water. Like any other day, they began to put your undergarments on, preparing you for a dress that you could not even think about the weight of, but no matter how many layers they put on you, you were still shivering.

Someone, you had no idea who, pulled a blanket over your shoulders and put a large cup of lemon tea into your hands. It used to be your favourite, but the sips tasted bitter no matter how much sugar you poured. You stood in the middle of the room, holding the cup and felt all their eyes on you, drinking your tea with a shaky hand. No matter how you held it or steadied your arms, the porcelain clinked together louder and louder until it smashed onto the ground, the hot liquid pooling around you. Before you could apologise, someone was on their knees cleaning it up. 

‘I am so sorry,’ you cried out, tears already threatening to return despite it being only a few minutes since they had dried up. With water pouring over your face and hair in the bath, the tears would have been washed away, but now there was nowhere to hide them.

‘No worries, miss,’ one of the maids said. She looked you up and down, a corset in her hands, clearly seeing a mess of a woman in front of her. ‘We should get you ready; there is a meal waiting downstairs and I am sure you’re famished.’

‘I am alright, I just want to—’ you wanted to disappear. Get out of everyone’s sight. You wanted to lock yourself in your room or run away, just be anywhere but here, surrounded by these strangers. You wanted Eddie. Where was he now? He must have been dragged into the dungeons. 

You pushed back the next load of tears that were breaking through.

‘Miss, we must insist.’ The maid said, somewhat concerned, and hesitated. ‘The food will do you good.’ And yet, the idea of eating now made you feel quite ill to the stomach.

‘I would really just like to be alone now.’ If you had more energy, your statement might have come out more pointed, giving you more edge over the staff. You would have fought them until you’d slam the door behind the last one, but instead, you let yourself be trapped into a dress—a beautiful green garment that the women were not shy to praise as they put it on you—and sent you off to the dining room.

Once, you would have walked these halls alone,  with your head held high and letting the steps of your heels announce your presence in any room, but now the clicking against the marble floors made you wince and the presence of the maids and guards following you certainly did not help to put your mind at rest. 

The dining table was set, filled from one end to the other with dishes, but you could barely stomach a spoonful. The same happened at dinner. You could not think of eating these extensive meals knowing that Eddie was kept locked up somewhere, most likely not given anything to eat since he had been arrested. Your mind was whirring with ideas, but each and everyone was immediately halted when you saw that there was nowhere in the house you could go without onlookers. The chances of you being allowed into the dungeons and speaking to him were close to zero. 

Having eaten exactly two bites from your plate, you excused yourself back to your room, where people were ready to get you out of your dress and into your nightgown. Once done, one of the maids was prepared to blow all the candles out, but you quickly stopped her. 

‘Wait,’ you called, ‘could you leave one on, please.’ 

The woman nodded and left one of the candles in the holder burning before leaving the room. You sat down on the edge of the bed, trying to catch your breath, but the room felt so stuffy—a ridiculous thought considering the room was bigger than Eddie’s quarters, possibly the double of it. The candle only gave light to its nearest surroundings, letting the rest of the space, and you with it, be eaten up by the night. It was overwhelming, together with the hot air swallowing you whole. As your chest tightened, you ran to the window, pushing it open. You greeted the cool night air with a sigh. 

Nights at home were never quiet, but unlike in Saint Claire, it was not drunken brawls that kept the shores alive but the rustle of waves and the chirping cicadas. The streets buzzed with the sounds of nature, illuminated in silver by the moon, now an almost complete sphere. 

You had always loved the view of your room, but now it felt more like a cruel joke as you could look out at the harbour and the gates of Star Port. It was like a million pinpricks stabbing into you. The Hellfire was nowhere to be seen. You didn’t expect anything less. With Eddie arrested, it would have been mad of the crew to stay behind, risking their own capture. 

Still, the feeling you got at the sight of the empty harbour sank deep into your stomach, not helping with how you had felt before opening the blinds, and when you closed them again, the room seemed to have grown in size. Large, cold, empty, with you standing in the middle staring at your bed. Sitting on it, let alone sleeping, was impossible. The second you touched the mattress, you were scared you’d sink straight through the cotton, and the sheer size of it…

You lay there for hours, deciding whether to curl up and make yourself as small as possible or to spread your arms out in a poor attempt at taking up some of the space meant only for you. Every time you moved, your hand would grab for the sheets, hoping that one of those times, you would feel more than air. If you opened your eyes, you would see him sleeping peacefully by your side. 

Most of your pillows had met the ground as you threw them in frustration.  You had spent years in this bed, perfectly fine, and only several days with Eddie. So, why were you feeling this profound loss over his absence besides you? It wasn’t fair. 

Eventually, you managed to fall to sleep, quite literally, as pure exhaustion tipped you over and made your head finally hit down. There were no dreams, nightmares or memories to haunt you, as you were awoken before any of them could take shape. Firm knocks on the door announced your maids, and they filled the room in their designated corners. 

‘Good morning, miss.’ They said chirpily as they got you dressed and ready for another day. All you replied with throughout the entire process was a mumbled ‘’morning,’ which you hoped could be blamed for having only been awake for a few minutes.

‘Breakfast will be served soon,’ you heard. The mention of food again twisted at your guts, but an idea began to bloom in your mind.

‘Will my father be there?’ He seldom dined with you, leaving you to eat your meals in the company of the staff, but you assumed he would want to see you after all these weeks.

‘I assume so,’ the woman brushing your hair said. You nodded curtly, as much as possible, when someone held on to your head. The prospect of speaking to your father face to face brought a new energy into your step. 

You walked out of that room determined and with your head held high, only to be disturbed by footsteps parallel to yours. Two pairs. At first, you thought it was a coincidence, and they just happened to be walking there, too, but they followed you down the hallway, around all the corners. By the time you reached the dining room doors, you had grown tired of it.

‘I am quite capable of walking on my own, thank you,’ you said, coming to an abrupt stop, making the two men behind you  ‘have done it all my life, in fact.’

‘Yes, of course, miss,’ said one of the guards who you bumped into at your sudden halt. ‘It is just—’

‘Just what?’ You crossed your arms.

‘Well, your father—’ he stopped speaking at the sight of your unimpressed, somewhat annoyed expression. He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the confrontation. ‘We are here to protect you.’

‘From what exactly?’ This was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

‘From any danger, miss.’

‘I was not aware this house was so full of threats.’ You rolled your eyes. ‘I appreciate the efforts, gentlemen, but I doubt you will be needed.’

‘But your father, miss.’ The other man tried to argue, but you were not having any of it.

‘I will not be patrolled in my own home!’ You shouted, pushing the doors to the dining room open. Your father sat at the opposite end of the large table, fork mid-air to his mouth. ‘Father, this is absurd.’

‘I think it is perfectly reasonable to want to protect my daughter. What is absurd,’ much to your annoyance, he spoke in his usual collected and cool-toned manner. He waited to continue speaking until you sat at the table. ‘Is you being held hostage for weeks at the hands of some barbarians.’

‘They are not barbarians, Father,’ you ignored the hands that spooned food onto your plate. ‘They took rather good care of me, actually.’ You bit your cheek, trying not to think of the days you spent in a cage. But even considering that, you were aware of your fortune with the circumstances you had been put under. Many more people had encountered enemies at sea, and few had been able to return home and live to tell the tale… or the preferred version of events, at least. 

‘Is that why you look so sick and frail?’ he spoke bluntly, taking you back. ‘Because of how well they treated you?’

‘They did their best with what they had,’ you believed. It was your choice to starve yourself for the first days on board, refusing to eat anything they gave you. And you could hardly expect a feast such as you held in front of you now, every day in the middle of the deep waters. Even on board the Red Tail, the meals had been somewhat shoddy. ‘I just do not think that…’ you stopped yourself from using his name. ‘That man deserves to be in prison.’

‘Of course not.’ Your father took a bite. ‘He will be hanged for his crimes.’

‘W-what?’ Your fork clattered onto the ground. ‘Father, you cannot— I know he had tried to take money from you but—’ Murder and high treason. That is what he was arrested for. Had your father somehow found out about the Red Tail? But how could he… there were no survivors. 

No survivors. He killed them all. He had— 

‘Do you know who that man is?’ Something in your father’s voice sounded sharper, more pointed. 

‘I thought so,’ you hesitated. Yes, you had spent your days and most tender moments with him, but what did you know about Eddie Munson?

‘Then you should understand the severity of this situation.’ Only if you were to believe hearsay and talk of the people on the streets that shaped this image of a blood-thirsty monster that roamed the seven seas, killing everything in his path. It is what you believed him to be yourself until not very long ago until practically every fibre in your body had been proven wrong.

Or at least, God, you hoped you had been wrong.

Your father sighed, ‘I know it is difficult, after all you must have spent a lot of time with them on that ship, and I do not know what lies they had fed you, but these are serious matters that begun long before any of this and need to finally be taken care of.’

‘Well, explain it to me because I would like to know what is happening.’ 

At this, he scoffed. ‘All you need to know is that man is a dangerous criminal and should be treated as such.’ But then, what about everything Eddie had told you? What about all the pieces you had managed to gather of the crumbs he and everyone else left you? There was more to it all, and maybe you did not understand yet, but you would.

‘When?’ you plucked at your food on the plate, defeated, ‘when is the hanging?’

‘In four days.’ If you had been well enough to eat, you would have choked. You had barely come to terms with returning home, if at all, and now this. Prisoners were usually held for weeks before a date was set for an execution. They were clearly adamant about taking care of him quickly. 

For the sake of everyone else, you ate a bit of your breakfast, each bite sticking uncomfortably heavy in your throat.  After that, you got up without saying another word. The two guards who had walked in with you were on high alert again, ready to follow you, but stopped to look nervously at the governor when you glared at them. 

‘Let her go,’ he waved them off, ‘but keep an eye on her.’

You huffed out a breath and walked away. 

The rest of the day you spent walking around the town, mainly the alley of the market that led to one of the entrances to the dungeons. You had no idea why you were there, considering there was nothing you could do. Besides the fact you could clearly see the new set of guards appointed to follow you around the streets, they seemed utterly futile, considering all eyes in the street were on you. Every person there was highly aware of your presence. 

You used to walk around the market nearly daily, making polite chats with the salesmen as you bought fresh fruit to later eat at the shore or in the garden. Most people knew that you had decided to join the Red Tail on their voyage primarily because of your enthusiasm to finally leave the island and go on an adventure.

It must have taken quite some time, they would say in some form or another, to convince your father.

I can be quite persuasive when I have to be; you remember how proud you had felt. After months of begging everyone around you to let you go, promising them that you would be safe and careful and not get in the way of anyone, finally, they let you go. Under Admiral Carver’s watch, you spent weeks enjoying the breeze and the waves, awaiting what the rest of the world would bring.

The ship sailed for four weeks to another naval post. You did not know their exact business, nor did you care, as you now had a whole new land to explore. The city was larger and nothing like home. The people looked different and spoke an entirely different language, but you still managed to get around and on the market behind your house. It had been excellent and eye-opening, only making you more eager to see what else to discover. But unfortunately, there was only so little time, and before you knew it, you had to return home. You remember the last day. It had been raining, but it did not stop anyone from loading the new supplies. Somehow it seemed like much more needed to be brought on board for this half of the journey than the first. 

What’s in those barrels, you asked, but no one ever replied. They barely ever did. It wasn’t your place to ask questions in these matters. You were simply a passenger on the ship, verging on stowaway, spending your days in the quiet of your own room for the most part until…

It was the middle of the day, and the sun burned above you brightly, yet you shivered. You had always known to trust your father’s judgement and his decisions, but there was no possible way in which this was right. That this was how it would end.

The alleyway practically screamed at you for you to go and run in and get him out of there, but with so many people watching, it would be hopeless. The guards would get you before you had even reached the stairs. You would have to wait.

‘It’s good to see you again, miss.’ A voice pulled you out of your thoughts. It took you a few slow blinks to realise who it was.

‘Oh, you too, Mr Bowman.’ you smiled towards the merchant as he smiled at you through his bushy beard. He was sitting next to his table of… you were not sure what to call them. The man was quite the eccentric, and you had barely ever seen him actually make a sale on any of his products, but you doubted he was there for business anyway. ‘Have I missed much in the past months?’ You could always count on him for good stories about the townsfolk. The man had all his senses on sharp, constantly vigilant of everything around him. 

‘I think your return is the biggest news we’ve had in a while.’ He scratched his beard, ‘That, and well, the upcoming execution, of course.’

‘People already know?’ You blinked, not having expected that to be public knowledge yet. Then again, it is an event like no other. Preparations have to be made.

‘Edward the Banished gets arrested, and you expect people not to know?’ He laughed almost mockingly as he usually did, but you looked at him blankly.

‘The Banished?’ you had heard much about Eddie, but this name was new to your ears. 

‘Yes, ridiculous name, if you ask me,’ he waved it off, ‘Pure sensationalism as it rolls smoother on the tongue than deserter or runagate, quisling, traitor—’

‘I understand,’ you stopped him nervously. ‘But how did he get this name? What did he do?’

‘HA!’ he startled you with volume. ‘What didn’t he do, you should ask.’ This caused many of the other merchants around you to weigh in on the subject. 

‘I heard he abducted the governor’s daughter.’

‘That’s her. She’s right here.’

‘Oh. Well, he had attempted to assassinate the king of England!’

‘The Prince, you blockhead. And he did kill him!’

‘He has burned entire islands down. All over a game of cards.’

‘Stole an entire fleet and handed it over to the Spanish, just like that.’

‘He drinks the blood of his enemies!’

‘Sold his soul to the devil!’

Everyone looked at the old man that shouted this out. You were afraid to ask more questions, so let the others do this for you. ‘What do you mean, he sold his soul?’ 

‘He did! Did all those things to offer himself to Satan and do his dirty deeds here on earth. He is cursed to sail the seas in his wicked ship with the unrighteous crew for all eternity.’

‘Well, that eternity won’t last much longer.’ Someone commented, resulting in a chuckle around the street. Most of the people laughed, but you stayed quiet, your mind going back to Eddie, his body covered in unexplainable scars. The wind suddenly grew stronger.

‘I’m telling you,’ the man continued, ‘we won’t get rid of him yet! Not until Hell freezes over!’

‘Someone give the man a hat; he’s had too much sun,’ Mr Bowman called, rich coming from him, whose balding head was burning bright red. He then turned to you, shrugging as the rest had clearly proven his point. ‘And that is why I do not mess around with pirates, deary, no matter how charming they may seem.’

‘Excuse me?’ were the first words coming out of your mouth in the last few minutes, and you quickly regretted having them form into another question. 

‘I saw you two yesterday at the arrest.’ Of course, he had. Nothing around here ever escaped this man. He looked proud of himself for having witnessed the events. ‘It was quite dramatic, seeing lovers have to be broken apart like that.’

‘I think you might have had too much sun today,’ you tried to sound casual as you laughed it off. 

‘I am not here to judge,’ he said, putting his hands up in surrender, ‘simply to advise.’ 

‘Thank you, Mr Bowman.’ You smiled politely, ready to escape the conversation. You had been used to him often throwing around false and farfetched accusations, and even listening to this conversation, you knew it was nothing if not complete nonsense, just gossip gone too far along the years. So now that he had actually been correct, it stunned you, even maybe scared you. What would the people around you think if they knew what happened between you and Eddie? How would they react if they knew how you felt about his death sentence? You would be deemed mad. 

Of course, the not-so-inconspicuous guards followed you back to your room, where you stayed for the rest of the day until it was time for dinner. Your father did not join you this time. As hunger finally struck you, fighting nausea caused by the stress of the last few days, you ate everything served to you. 

On the ship, you had thought that once you came back, you wouldn't be able to stop eating all the things you had been missing for months, but nothing tasted as good as you remembered. In fact, nothing was as good as you remembered. The food was bland, the flowers not as vibrant, and the people not as joyous. Once, you had heard laughter and chatter, but it seemed like the streets grew cold and silent, leaving you alone to your thoughts. 

After your meal, you walked out of the room but turned left instead of taking the right towards your room. People immediately caught on. 

‘Miss? Where are you going?’ A guard called out.

‘Oh,’ you attempted to sound like you had not expected this exact conversation when you moved, ‘just thought of going on a stroll. The night air does me rather well.’ You grinned in a way you hoped would come off naive. 

‘I do not think that’s a good idea.’ The guard said. ‘I would suggest that you return to your room,’ he spoke in a tone telling you that it was not a suggestion at all. Not in the slightest.

‘Am I on house arrest?’

‘See it more as a curfew.’ 

You scoffed at the idea, or more that you had very little choice but to obey. There was a moment in which you stared up at the guard, switching between expressions to get him to crack and let you go, but to your disappointment, he cocked his head toward your room. 

How were you ever supposed to get to Eddie if they constantly watched you? The question kept you up another whole night and the next day. Just for the sake of it, since they so desperately needed to be with you at all times, you decided to sit in the library for about four hours with no book in sight, just staring out the window, letting them stare at you. At a certain point, you had caught one man actually yawning.

‘I am absolutely certain that there are at least fifty things that would be more  productive for you to do then this,’ you broke the deafening, maddening silence, still looking out the window. You had counted all the leaves on the tree branch that kept hitting the pane in the breeze and had recollected every corridor and door in the house. In the reflection of the glass, you could see the guards glance nervously at each other, and with a smile, you turned to face them. ‘You can just go. I won’t tell anyone.’ But they stood their ground. With a groan, you sank back down into the chair. 

It would take much longer for them to break, so much more time that you—that  Eddie—did not possess. Three days left before the execution. Three days left for you to take the chance and do something. Save him. There were a million ideas, one worse after the other, with so many risks and problems that it could eventually end in your own hanging. 

You shut your door at the end of the day, and it must have sounded through the entire house. Another day gone, and you had gotten nowhere. You could see the shadows of their feet come through the gap underneath your door, and they would be there the next morning when you awoke. Sleep deprived from tossing and turning as long as the sun was down. The bed still felt too big for comfort. At one point, they had run into the room at the sound of muffled screams, just for you to pull your head out of your pillow to yell at them to get out. 

You walked towards the dining room for breakfast, this time wearing a rose gold dress, surprised not to be followed by a parade of footsteps but halted at the sound of voices coming from inside the hall. 

‘I think it is safe to say that she does not require any supervision, sir.’ one of the guards said. You never bothered to learn their names, too frustrated to care, but you learned to recognise their voices from the amount of squabbling you had done. 

‘Is that so?’ your father munched away. 

‘She does nothing but mope around all day, quite harmless, I’d say… uhh, sir.’ The other added. 

Mope? You did not mope, if only because they sucked your life out with their constant “supervision”. As much as you wanted to burst into the room, you composed yourself and listened on. 

‘Does she seem well, in the head, I mean?’ Your father asked, but they did not reply. Not verbally, at least; you could imagine them looking at each other in the way they did, and just the idea made you clench your fists until they turned pale.

‘She’s stubborn, a bit immature, a bit aggressive.’ One of them chose his words carefully and slowly.

‘So that’s a no, I take it,’ your father concluded. You took this as your opportunity to announce yourself with a few loud steps, moving back a few paces to repeat them with exaggeration. 

‘Good evening, father,’ you said as you took your seat, not giving him or the other man any more of your attention. The guards glanced at you nervously before leaving the room.

‘Terrorised the guards, I see?’ he asked.

‘No more than they did me,’ you replied in the same emotionless tone as you ate.

‘I just wanted what’s best for you. It had been a tumultuous time, and you had gone through quite– ’

‘Is that a reason to… to lock me up and have me followed around like some kind of—’ You were at a loss for words, so instead, opted for a frustrated groan and stuffing your face with a forkful of lamb. 

‘Well, you’ve proved me wrong. Clearly, you can still care for yourself.’ he wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood up. ‘I’ll make them let you be from now on,’ and with that, he walked away. You couldn’t suppress the smile that rose to your lips once the doors closed behind him, immediately knowing the first place you were heading to with your newfound “freedom”. 

The kitchen. 

Well, that is not exactly the first thing. You had to wait for all the dishes to be cleared from the dining room, so you wandered around the corridors and then headed down the stairs as quietly as possible to not raise any attention to yourself. 

As suspected, the kitchen was empty. Most of the food on the plates still untouched. Quietly, you grabbed a basket and began picking things out here and there, those that would go unnoticed by anyone walking in to grab a midnight snack. The only thing that might have caught someone’s attention by going missing was one of the larger bottles of rum stacked on a shelf. 

You placed a napkin over the basket's content and grabbed one of the staff member’s hoods to cover yourself up with before heading outside. It would help against the cold night air and hopefully make you a bit less noticeable, as the grey hood did not stand out as much as your extravagant dress. As you took the first steps out into the garden, the idea came to you that maybe that was another idea of them trying to keep you inside these walls. After all, while you had always had nice clothing, it did not compare to the dresses you’ve worn since your return. It could be seen as a welcome home gift, but it was undeniable that the dress you wore now could be spotted from miles away.

You pulled the cloak tighter over yourself.

Besides a few men who were too drunk to notice or care who you were, the streets were also empty. The men standing at the prison doors were half asleep, and either way, you were not too anxious about them as they were usually more preoccupied with keeping people in than out. You slipped through the shadows into the alley and only dared to breathe once inside. The steps leading further into the building were uneven, especially in the dark. The only light was half-burned-up torches lining the path. A crinkly small corridor that eventually led to a crooked staircase. You could barely keep yourself up straight, almost tripping over your feet. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, where the dungeon's entrance stood, took almost longer than the walk to the building across town as you held onto the cold wall, doing your best not to fall.

Now, you could only pray that the final door was not locked. The handle wiggled and creaked open. 

You hesitated. What would await you inside? This whole trek had been based on your intuition that he would be put in one of the isolated cells, away from the petty criminals. But what if they kept him somewhere else? What if they had done something to him and… well, there was only one way to find out.

As you stepped into the caved-out room and almost instantaneously, never before had you felt such a cold fall over you. Maybe it was due to the thick walls absorbing all sound or how the slit-like windows below the ceiling only let through the tiniest slivers of moonlight, obstructing any of the day’s heat from entering the room. Or maybe it was the sight of him in the pale torchlight that chilled you to the bone. 

He was seated on the ground, framed by a cell jagged from rock and steel bars. The moonlight managed to just about frame his face, exhausted and fragile. His eyes were closed in pretend sleep. You could tell that much as his brows furrowed at the sound of your footsteps. You tried to call out to him, but your throat was stuck. But you didn’t need to say anything. He called your name in a weak voice, in a hesitant manner, as if he was making sure that what he saw was real. If you were really there. 

‘What are you doing here?’ he asked in disbelief.

What were you doing here?  You had been asking yourself this the entire walk up to the cells, trying to find a reason why it meant so much to you to see him again, to help him, and yet you still could not come up with anything. There was no response besides holding up the basket with a weak smile and saying, ‘I thought you would like some dinner.’ 

Eddie sat straight, pulling himself up by one of the cell bars. As you walked up to his cell and sat down on the ground beside him, you could feel his eyes on you. Pure disbelief at your presence, the food. You held the meat out to him, but he did not move. 

‘It is not poisoned,’ you smiled sheepishly, ‘if that is what you’re wondering.’ Even when you handed him the food to eat. He did so slowly, apprehensively at first, still unable to look away from you. Perfectly understandable. You had barely gotten used to this. How the beading and frame of the dress poked at you from every angle. Your feet hurt, and your hair had been pulled into an intricate hairstyle, causing you to walk around with a headache for hours. Not that it was anything to compare to Eddie’s circumstances. He sat in his cell, too small to stretch his body out in, with no bed, just the cold hard ground. They had removed his jacket and belt, leaving him to sit out the cold of the night in just his shirt. You also noticed a new bruise forming on his jaw, which certainly had not been there when you last saw him. All this to break him down, yet the way he looked at you—you could have sworn you were still lying together in his bed, far away from all this. 

He glanced down at your dress, how it pooled around you, almost leaking through the cell barriers up to him in all its opulence. ‘How the tables have turners, haven’t they, princess,’ he chuckled, and you had never thought to be so happy from hearing such a simple sound. The nickname felt deliberately chosen at this time, too. You pulled at the edges of your dress, collecting it closer to you.

‘I know, I look ridiculous.’ 

‘I think the word you’re looking for is beautiful,’ he said between bites, but you ignored the compliment, knowing that if you let it get to you, it would come together with a shower of tears. As he kept on eating his food, you sighed, letting your side hit the wall as you leaned up to him. You handed him more of the food that you had brought him and the rum, then let him finish in silence. His mere presence beside you already was more than enough. The sound of his deep calm breaths was enough to put you to rest, and it pleased you that the sea had not left him just yet. He still smelled of it. That fresh sea salt air was simply stuck in his hair. You refrained from combing your fingers through it.

This was already so far from what you had expected things to go like. You had thought that once you came home, even with his request for a hefty payment, he would still be welcomed as a hero. That you could make things work and somehow, maybe, naively, be together. Even now, you thought that if he saw you here, you would have some kind of moment of clarity where everything became crystal clear and easy to understand. That you would know exactly what to do, and it would be glorious. You thought he would be happy to see you. Never had you imagined him asking you again, ‘What are you doing here? Really.’

‘I wanted to see you,’ you said, but he could read past all your layers. ‘And… over the past few days, I have heard things. About you. Things that I can hardly believe to be true and yet are seen as such by the majority of people, so I hoped you could clear some things up for me.’

‘You don’t believe your own people but would believe me?’ He took a swig of the rum, already handing it back to you, but you declined, giving it back.

‘I have given you my trust more times than I should have, and so far, it has not led me down any dark paths, but I can only hope that you will not break that bond now.’ After all that you had been through? Was he in any position to do so? ‘So I hope you will tell me what really happened. I—I remember you, years ago, meeting with my father and Carver. You were in the military, right?’

Eddie let his head roll back, hitting the wall behind him with a shallow thud. ‘You remember me?’ 

‘It came to me during the storm. A memory of you walking with them in the garden. For the longest time, I could not make sense if it had been real or if my mind playing tricks on me, but I realised now what it was.  You looked different, but it was you, wasn’t it? You were like them?’ 

‘Turns out, maybe I still am, and more than you’d think,’  he sighed, ‘or less, depending on how you look at it.’ He took another sip of the drink. 

‘Will you tell me, please?’ You pleaded, eagerly awaiting the answers to what you had been trying to figure out long before you had returned home. Eddie looked apprehensive. 

‘What good will it do?’ He turned his head in your direction, still leaning against the wall. You moved over to be closer to him, your legs almost touching. 

‘Perhaps nothing, but—’ you sighed, ‘All my life, I’ve been protected. I’ve had everything handed to me without any trouble. I had spend most of my years never further away than these shores and always under someone’s watch. I had never had the space to make risks or mistakes. There was no such thing as danger. Even now, I had been under constant watch. No one will answer my questions or even listen to me because they want to protect me. Because they think I’m fragile and cannot handle it.’ 

At this, Eddie scoffed. ‘If anything, they cannot handle you, darling.’ 

‘Meanwhile, you,’ you smiled, ignoring the heat burning over your cheeks, ‘Well, perhaps not all your methods were ideal, but you never treated me like I was made of glass. You pushed me, and it actually, for once, made me feel alive and like I am worth being in the room with.’

Eddie reached for your hand. ‘You’re worth so much more than that,’ he mumbled against your knuckled as he kissed them. He held on to you as he began talking slowly, choosing his words wisely. ‘I had joined the navy younger than anyone should have—my parents couldn’t afford me, so I had to make myself useful quickly, and that felt at least somewhat commendable, no matter how it would end. 

‘Started right at the bottom, but I wanted to prove myself. I followed orders, did everything what was asked of me, and more, and I moved through the ranks. As I gained more of a position, I got more of an insight into the men I was working for and with.’ 

As he spoke, you watched his eyes pale, haze over with memories. The dam he had built around them had broken up, flooding out, and he could not stop it anymore.  He wanted to continue, but he hesitated, glancing your way, but you encouraged him to go on with a nod of the head. Even then, he scratched at his face nervously and took a deep breath. 

‘We would find ourselves everywhere around the world, and a certain power comes with wearing a uniform. It is universal, one that everyone understands and is willing to abuse. It was easy to see yourself as better than the poor locals, to excuse yourself from the import taxes and all the bureaucracy around the travel. I had done it myself, flashing a grin with the mindset of superiority.’ He hid his face in his hands, groaning. You reached out for his arm. 

‘Hey, it’s okay,’ you hushed, but was it really?

‘When you get that taste of power when it hits right, it is hard to let go. It had never sat well with me; every time I got away from a port without paying for my ship, I stayed up entire nights as the guilt ate away from me, but it had been what everyone else was doing, and you don’t want to fall behind. It had become a pressure to boast your power over those who did not have any. 

‘And this power…. it turned darker as simple actions of business turned to abuse. Swindling merchants of their products, conning drunks with games, and stealing their money. Taking advantage of… everyone. It had become a sport to them.

‘I was aware of it, but it had somehow never seemed that serious—it happened so gradually—until one day I saw one of the commanders with this girl…’ his breath hitched. You squeezed his hand to remind him that you were there, that you were listening. ‘She was just a child, and when I saw what he—I lost control of myself, lashed out at him. It had been stupid trying to argue with someone that outranked me. There was no one I could tell that would do anything about it, not when they were all just as bad.

‘Then Carver came up to me one day. Said that together we could make a change.’ Eddie’s jaw clenched. ‘I should have known better. He had always been too close with the rest of them, but we planned on making a change.

‘But on the day we were about to tell your father about everything that happened on our voyages—the day we saw each other in the garden, in fact,’ he squeezed your hand back. ‘We never got the chance because I was sent away.’ Something in you caught your breath, making him smile lightly. 

‘There had been talk of a war, and so I was sent out with a fleet to take charge. Carver had promised me he would take care of everything in my absence, but—’

‘He didn’t,’ you finished the sentence for him.

‘In a way, he did. Of course, it was all a hoax. He had needed an excuse to get rid of me. It took me three months to get back, having found no signs of possible ambushes, and when I did, I returned to the news that Hargrove, the commander I had attacked, had been found dead that same evening I left. And there was the missing gold and the rumours of a coup, among other things. Somehow, he had convinced everyone I had gone above and beyond in betraying our country, but the murder charges hit the heaviest. They thought I had killed one of our own.

‘The only people on my side had been those on the ship with me, and they had given up all they had by giving me their trust. They were marked as traitors just for standing up against the accusations. I  already had lost everything I had to lose and could not stand by it, so I left. I took my ship and my crew, and we sailed off. 

Bowman’s words rang through your mind as Eddie said this. Deserter. Runagate. Quisling. Traitor. You still wanted to ask him so much, but you let him speak before interrupting. 

‘The sea was a liberation. We were free to do whatever we wanted, so we did, but I always felt like I was tied back to this place. Like…’ he laughed, ‘like a rope was hanging around my neck, dragging me back here. At first, I thought it was guilt, so I did my best to reprimand everything they had done. I wanted to do something for all those men and women we had hurt, give them some form of protection against those uniforms. 

‘But no matter what I did, who I helped, that feeling did not stop. In a way, it grew worse. I got angry and felt like the only thing that would help me was revenge; I stayed up most nights thinking of unimaginable things. I got lost in the darkness of it. If it wasn’t for Harrington, I don’t know what would have become of me.’

‘Harrington?’ You could see how that would happen, but the mention of him somehow startled you. It's another piece of the story that made it feel so real.

‘He had been in a similar position as me. His commanding officer had been asking him to do all these dirty jobs until he had had enough. It had only been a couple of days since he had given up his post when we met one night at a tavern. He wouldn't have joined us if it had not been for a game of cards. Neither would have Robin.’

You had no idea how long you had sat there, just enough for your body to grow cold and stiff on the ground, but you could not care less about any of that, too focused on his story. As he mentioned Steve and Robin, his smile reached his eyes for the first time since you had arrived, revitalising you, knowing that there was still something in his life that left fond memories behind. You leaned forward, resting your chin on your hand as you listened on. 

‘Either way, I had fallen into a deep, dark pit, and Steve pulled me out. He showed me what I was doing did no good for anyone but them. It was eating me alive, killing me from the inside.’

‘But you still killed them all.’ The words left your mouth sooner than you could think them through. Knowing his reason behind it all made you understand, but it did not lessen the impact of the deed. 

Hearing you say that, Eddie quickly turned his entire body to you, pulling himself as close to you as possible, almost pushing himself through the bars. His eyes were full of an intensity that burned through your soul.

‘I am not trying to make excuses. I did what I did—I led my crew towards the Red Tail and let them sink that ship, but not for myself. That is what Harrington made me realise. I did not need to see them die, but they needed to pay for everything they had done. For ruining all those people’s lives. You must understand that?’ 

He didn’t need to see them die. Moments flashed before you of your very first seconds on the Hellfire. Of Eddie walking up to you, the words he spoke in front of you. 

– Carver? Where is that pesky little bilge rat? 

– Bled out on the ship. 

– Shame. Would have like to have seen that. ‘You weren’t even there.’ you whispered.

‘It wasn’t about me.’ He shook his head. ‘Besides, if I had been the one to kill them, it would have only satisfied them. To see me become what they had told the world I already was. All I wanted was for them to be gone. Just gone. 

‘None of this,’ his eyes darted over your face. ‘Was meant to happen to you. My men were simply looking for the things in the office that had already been stolen. But then they saw you under that table, they couldn’t leave you. You were innocent.’ His hand reached out to brush over your cheek. Only at his touch did you realise that you had started to cry as he wiped down your tears. ‘And to you, I am truly sorry for everything I put you through.’ 

 You had nothing to reply with but a kiss, pulling him close to you. The steel bars of the cell caused an awkward distance between you, yet you never felt closer. It was as if now, you finally, truly, knew who it was you were touching. The kiss had been brief, but the silence that followed stretched on. The two of you sat there, sinking away from reality, but the questions you still had kept you grounded. Just as Eddie had said, a noose dragging you back. 

‘Eddie,’ you called him carefully. ‘What about the letter?’ 

‘What letter, princess.’ His hand kept rubbing over your tear-stained cheek. 

‘You know which one I mean,’ you pulled back slightly to be able to look properly at him. ‘Who was it for?’ 

He laughed, the saddest laugh you had ever heard come from him, and it pained you from within. ‘What does all this matter? I will be dead soon. The less there is left of me here, the better.’

 You watched him pull himself up again to sit, tap his knuckles on his knee. His answer had angered you. ‘Because…’ you took a deep breath, taking the leap you had been too afraid to take. ‘it just gives me that much less time to know the man I have fallen in love with.’ You wanted to keep as much of him as possible. That is what you could do by listening. To give him that voice in his own story. 

Eddie fell silent. His mouth opened to speak, but no voice came out for several tries. He searched for the right words until he finally blinked slowly and looked up at the ceiling. His jaw clenched once again, in the way that he sucked in a deep breath. As he released it, he said: ‘Her name was Christina.’

‘Your wife?’ Again, you thought of what he had told you earlier. I  already had lost everything I had to lose. He must have had people who cared for him before all this had happened.

‘Fiancée,’ he corrected, not that it mattered to either of you. ‘We had known each other our whole lives, having grown up on the same streets. We kept each other strong with this promise that one-day things would get better. That we would escape from all the burdens and create our own paradise. She was the reason I—’ he couldn’t speak of it out loud, and you didn’t need him to. You didn’t tell him to continue the story when he eventually did. 

‘Foolishly, I had not told her anything of what went on. I told her things would finally be good for us when I returned. We would leave and never turn back. I thought I was protecting her by keeping it all from her, but it was the final nail in my coffin.

 ‘She had been the first person I saw after my return, and I could sense that something was wrong.  Then the guards knocked on the door, and she opened it like she had been expecting them. 

‘I could only assume it was Carver. That he told her what he told everyone else. She wouldn’t look at me, touch me, speak to me. No matter how hard I tried to prove myself, he had poisoned her with his words. In the end, she only saw me as a monster.’ 

The last word stung you in your chest, knowing how often you had used that exact word to describe him yourself. How often have you called him a monster or even worse?  But his openness triggered more memories to come up. Your conversations with the crew of the Red Tail. Their stories and lives. 

‘Christina…’ you mumbled the name with familiarity. ‘That was… that was the name of the admiral’s wife.’

‘It does not come to me as a surprise,’ he chuckled that sad laugh again. He had clearly expected to hear those words eventually. You looked at him, feeling the sting in the corners of your eyes. The tears were coming right back, but he quickly wiped those too. ‘Please, don’t. I do not need your pity. I have told you everything there is to know about me, and that is all I could or ever will ask of you again.’

‘I don’t—’ you wanted to speak, but he quickly went on. As he held your face in his hands, his thumb brushed over your lips, 

‘And I will cherish these moments, every second I spent with you, until my last breath. I will think of you as the sun sets, I promise you.’

‘What—what are you talking about?’ your voice choked between sobs. 

‘I never expected you to come here,’ he kissed you, passing all the feelings he had voiced earlier over to you with the touch of his lips, ‘but don’t come here again.’

‘What? No!’ You pushed yourself away. This wasn’t the plan. You were going to help him. You were going to get him out of here. As you got up to your feet, so did he, reaching for your hand again.

‘Listen to me.’ he gritted his teeth in desperation. ‘There is no way out of here, and it will only get worse for me.’ As he said so, your eyes flashed back to the bruise on his pale skin. ‘I do not want you to see me like that. Let this be where we say our goodbyes.’ He held your hand, finger over your knuckles, soothingly. You hated that he was comforting you at this moment.

‘No,’ you whimpered, head shaking. You turned your hand around in his to grab onto his fingers. One of his skull rings slowly began to slide off, and so you stopped before it dropped.

‘Please,’ he squeezed your hand.

‘No!’ you shouted, not caring if the guards outside could hear you. They might storm inside any second now and drag you out, they could try, but you wouldn’t let them. ‘I won’t let you die.’

‘It’s okay.’ He said. With every sentence he spoke, a new piece of the puzzle had been allotted to its place, but the final picture still blurred before your mind. It only seemed like even more gaps needed to be filled in, but it was slowly coming together, and when it did… You wanted to cry out. 

Eddie held you as best as he could through his restraints, the faintest smile painted over his lips. 

‘You knew, didn’t you?’ you stood there, defeated. ‘That if you would come back here with me, that this would happen. You knew you would be arrested and hanged.’

‘At least now I truly deserve it.’ All the crimes he committed at sea trying to help others, what he had let happen to the Red Tail. ‘So, please, just go. I promise, it will be alright.’ 

You wanted to scream at him. Hit him, punch him, and much more for all of this. You wanted him to hurt as much as you did as he told you to leave, but in reality, you doubted anything you could do to him would match even half of the pain you felt as you stood there. You wanted him to hurt, but all you could do was take one last step forward and pull him in to kiss you. 

When you left, you could still feel him on your lips. That feeling let you move step by step out onto the street. Everything else felt not quite right, not quite real. You walked mindlessly across the empty market, barely aware of your surroundings, until you suddenly stood in front of your room door. You dropped the empty basket at your side and practically floated onto the bed.

It was late; you had no idea what time exactly, but too late for anyone to help you get out of that corset. You lay on the bed, now unable to get up, unwilling to move even if you could, staring up at the ceiling. Maybe you never stopped staring or fell into a slumber, but the next morning you still lay on your back, barely changing position over the early morning hours.

 You sat in your room, looking at the tide coming and going, pushing the sand and the rocks through the hours. The hours blurred; days became night, and the moon turned into the sun. The following two days passed, and you spend them in silent disbelief and confusion, just fighting to not return to the prison cell.

There must be something you could do. People you could convince or pay or bribe in any other way to not let the execution take place. Help him escape. 

This could not be the end.

But Eddie had made his final wish clear. You were not to see him again, and what could you do when no one would listen to you? When everyone on the island had his mind set on what Eddie was? You were paralysed with helplessness, and no matter what you tried to do or what to think about, it just would not go away. It grew inside you, impossible to ever leave you again, and you were slowly making peace with that. Your own price to pay for not being able to do anything for him when he truly needed it.

Even when you arrived at the square, which was filling up with an audience hours before the event, were you trying to look for escape routes, but the more people arrived, the more challenging a wall they created to penetrate. You would never be able to run through it, but you thought of it. Holding his hand, never looking back.

The sun that afternoon was flaming hot, burning through all the layers of your dress that pinned into your ribs as you sat down. The governing families got the best seats on the raised platform in the house, with plush chairs to wait on while everything was prepared. There was only the cool breeze of your fan to cool you down, but it did nothing on your nerves. They burned within just as much as the sun's rays. 

You had not been sure if coming was a good choice or if you were prepared to witness Eddie’s death, but your absence would surely be questioned and… and you could not pass on the ever last possibility of seeing him. The dubiety ran through you with a threat of tears.

But more and more people came around to see, and you traced each face to find someone who could help you. Someone on your side. A familiar ally, but no luck. They were all prepared to see a man die tonight. The mumbling amongst them turned into chatter, and the conversations of local gossip turned to absolute mudslinging.

‘I heard he has killed over a thousand men with his bare hands.’

‘Well, I heard he had planned on taking over the army in order to become the next king!’

‘And I heard—’

‘I heard—’

I heard… One thing after the other, each one worse than the last. Could they not see this? All of it nothing but hearsay. They were putting a man on death row for things overheard at the market. Of course, no one would listen if you were to say this. 

The sky slowly turned a warm orange, glowing on the buildings like a soft fire. The bell in the church tower struck seven times, half through instinct and half through custom, people’s heads turned in one direction. All but yours because as they all looked at the procession—the court man carrying a large scroll of parchment, followed by the executioner, who pulled the chains that were locked around Eddie’s wrists and the two guardsmen behind him, weapons at the ready—you stared ahead at the gallows. The rope hanging on it looked short and could only mean one thing. 

A slow and painful death.

The clanking of the shackles echoed through the entire square with each step Eddie took. He was barely visible through the crowd, but the length of the executioner in front of him ensured everyone could follow the death march.

Eddie looked ill—pale and fragile. His steps were shaking, not improved at all by the heavy chains that pulled him forward. He stumbled around up the stairs to the gallow. You could see his eyes look up in fearful amazement at the construction of the gibbet. His Adam’s apple choked up and down, and then his eyes caught sight of you. 

Everything began to move at a slowed-down pace. 

He must not have expected you to come or hoped you wouldn’t because the brave and confident facade cracked for the tiniest moment. The sadness dominated his features for a glimpse of time, but it was all you could see. Too occupied by his view, he had missed his call to step up. The hangman shouted something from underneath his black hood, kicking Eddie forward. You flinched as Eddie kept his balance not to fall to the floor. You couldn’t do this. You could not watch this go down, but you did not want to leave him behind. Not ever. This could not be the end.

The court man stepped forward, unscrolling his parchment as he cleared his throat. It was enough for the people below, standing on the pavement, in the shadows of the buildings, on the balconies, to quiet down and listen as he read: 

‘On this day,’ his voice carried through the entire square, ‘we bear witness to the punishment of Edward Munson, pirate, for his admitted crimes of theft, perjury, extortion, abduction, desertion, high treason and murder, sentencing him to death as decided by the governing council. 

‘He shall hang here for God to give his final judgement and remain a reminder for any wrong-doers and sinners to come!’

You glanced at your father, who sat by untouched. Was Eddie’s body here to stay forever? You could not imagine having to walk around this town every day just to see his body be taken by the elements. 

The sun was nearly at the horizon, shining bright at all of you, its heat still heating your skin. 

The people cheered as the rope was put around Eddie’s neck, who waved to them as if they were not cheering on his demise. One hand pulling the other up, making the chain between them clink. A smile pulled at the corner of his lips, and it astonished you to see that he managed to stay his entertaining self even now. Always playing a role for the other man. Here to entertain. To provoke. To distract.

But the smile faded, body stiffened as the noose was pulled taut.

‘That’s a bit tight,’ Eddie commented, and in response to that, the hooded man pulled it even tighter. It dug into his skin. He looked down at where the floor would soon disappear from underneath him, then up at the sky and with a slight choke, he spoke out his final words, embellished by the last spark of his life: 

‘To reign is worth ambition though in hell: Better to reign in hell, then serve in heaven.’

People gasped, mumbling amongst each other once more until hushed to silence by the hangman walking up to the lever that would set everything into motion. As Eddie took his final breath, everyone held theirs in anticipation. Your hands were shaking; every breath you took felt like a betrayal to him and like a stab in your lungs. Your fan moved faster, the small gushes of wind barely doing anything to cool down your face. This could not be the end. Not this. Not now. It couldn’t be—

The arm was pulled, and it was as if it had removed the ground from underneath your feet; that’s how deep the drop in your stomach was as you saw Eddie fall. It was as much as you could bear seeing before you turned around, hiding your face in your hands, hiding your tears from everyone else. 

When hanging a person, two types of noose could be used. With the longer drop, the fall's impact would cause the neck to break and bring instant death. The shorter rope prolongs the act of dying as the rope digs into their throat, cutting off their air. During this, the square is filled with the sound of choked gasps, encouraged by the hundreds of onlookers. 

If you had been one of them, down there on the ground, with easy access to the podium, you would have stormed it. Cut the rope loose. But you sat on the balcony, surrounded by your father and the other gentlemen and guards, unable to move anywhere. So you could only hope that there would be someone to do what you wanted to do. That someone would show up and save him like you wish you could. But when no one came, and his strangled groans became more sporadic, you had had enough. You couldn’t do this. You could not sit by and watch or even listen to what was happening before you. 

Your father’s call of your name was muffled by the public, and your own internal screams as you ran out. Arms reached for you, but you pushed past them all. As soon as you were out of everyone’s sight, the tears started to flow, and they would not stop no matter how far you ran. And you wanted to run as far away as possible, as far away as your legs could take you. Off this island, away from these people. Yet, you eventually carried yourself back to the square. Each step made you dizzy through the corridors and down the stairs, but you could not stand still. 

You had thought you were faster, but as soon as you pushed the heavy doors open and saw the stream of people walking away, the truth sank into your bones. You pushed your way past the crowd back to the open marketplace. As soon as it was done, people lost interest and continued with their evenings as if nothing had happened, ready for whatever next was to come eventually. By the time you reached the foot of the gallow, there was practically no one else around you. 

The sun was saying its goodbyes, and his body was a dark shadow across the obscuring sky, hanging limp, still swinging from side to side but with every second coming closer to its final halt. Something about the movements looked so serene that you could not come to terms with that this was really it. Just like that… he was gone, but it happened so quickly, so easily. Too quickly. 

You stood in front of him as the last people left, and the sun disappeared at the end of the world until the real darkness fell upon you, and your tears finally dried out until your throat screamed for water and air, and you could barely stand up straight.

This could not be the end.

And you were one of the first people to hear of it. 

First, there was the prickling of the fire in the reading room, the flipping of the pages as you stared ahead at the words of the book, making yourself seem present in the room as your father sat by. Then there were the rushed footsteps in the hallway. The hushed whispers of hesitance behind the closed door as the men contemplated what to do. A creak of the door as they walked inside towards your father and leaned in to whisper so you would not hear what they had to say.

But the room was so quiet, you heard it quite clearly.

‘Sir, there is an…a problem.’

‘What is the matter?’ Your father, as always, did not find much need to express himself largely, but at the guard's response, his eyes grew wide, and for a moment, the glow of the fire seemed that much cooler.

‘The body…. It’s gone, sir.’

‘What do you mean,’ he composed himself quickly, ‘he is gone? How can that be?’ 

The guards never looked so small. ‘We do not know sir, but he is. It is like he has disappeared into thin air.’

‘Absurd,’ your father got up, and so did you. Before you got to say a word or take a step forward, he quickly stopped you. ‘You stay here.’

‘Absolutely not.’ Was all you replied as you rushed out of the room ahead of anyone else. 

You had already made your peace with never stepping a foot inside the town square ever again, not if you would have to be reminded of that afternoon, of everything that happened in the last months, but as you walked back up to it, you could not have been happier that you had returned. 

Only the rope left was where his body had hung and where it had meant to hang for days to come. Its perfectly knotted noose swayed like he had the last time you saw him. 

Everyone else was right behind you, but just before they reached the platform with you, you noticed something in the corner of your eye. A shine against the moonlight on the wooden beams. You could just barely reach it, but with a stretch of the arm, your fingertips just about managed to get a grip on it. Before you could look at it, you heard your father shout orders at the guards, making them search everywhere in the nearby surroundings. Maybe whoever had taken the body was still somewhere nearby. 

Whoever took it… was that what happened? Before you could look around for more signs that could clarify the situation, you were called to return back home. It would do little good to argue now, so you followed the guard tasked with escorting you to your room. Only when he closed your door and you sat down at your drawing desk that you opened your fist to reveal what it was you had found beneath the rope.

The pair of hollowed-out eyes of the skull ring stared back at you. There was no possible way for you to know what this meant if it even meant something, but you couldn’t help but smile. The ring was loose on your finger, but you kept it on. 

This could not be the end of Captain Eddie Munson. 

It wasn’t. 

For most people, he lived on as a ghost story, and as you had learned from a very young age, dead men tell no tales. The living pass their stories around, mouth to mouth, page to page. Blurring the truth with their urgency for clarity, they try to make sense of things they cannot understand. Secrets become myths and legends that barely resemble the truth. 

In most cases, it takes years, decades, if not centuries, but here, on this small island, the conversations on the street already trickled with gossip and rumours the following morning.

I did not want to believe it, but it must be true, what they say. He did sell his soul to the devil! And it came to retrieve his body. 

I told you! It is useless to try and kill the unkillable! No, did you not hear what he had said? “Better to reign in hell!” But he is the devil incarnate!

Well, I’m surprised they caught him in the first place! Why he must be a ghost. The lot of them on that wicked ship. All cursed, and now he will return to haunt us for the rest of our lives! 

Who was to say out of all of them what happened on that square once darkness fell? No one was there to see it or tell the truth, as all who could had long left the island. 

They left at night, days after everything went down after the search for Eddie’s missing body had been called off, “officially” said to have been stolen but never confirmed. Those who knew what happened to it stayed in hiding until it was safe to come out until all suspicions were blurred with the gossip and basically forgotten. Quietly, they ran to the harbour, unseen by anyone, swift as the wind. 

Unnoticed by anyone…but you.

Like most of the nights, unable to fall asleep, you had been looking out your window out at the harbour and the sea. The ships that calmly stood anchored there and the waves that pushed against them. Slowly, they put you to sleep, and so at first, you thought it was just a blur of your tired gaze, the dark spot in the far distance. It wasn’t a ship. And there, on the shore, there were no people preparing a boat. Not this late… 

You rubbed your eyes, trying to better understand what they were doing. Packing in a hurry, throwing things into the bottom of the rowboat. As you watched, you told yourself that it was just the exhaustion speaking, that you were fooling yourself with this hope, but you could not let the chance pass you by.

You left your room without bothering to put anything on over your nightgown. Quietly to not gain any attention, but still as quickly as you could manage. Who knew how much time you had left before they would leave? Then once out of the house, you ran as fast as you could. The past few days, it felt like it had been all you had been doing, running to and from things, running after something without even knowing what you were looking for, but now you knew. You ran until your lungs began to burn from the warm and dry air. Until your feet were ready to give in and until you reached the sandy beach. 

As much as you wanted to scream and shout, you kept quiet. You walked carefully up to the two figures at the shore until they noticed you next to them. It happened when you were only a few feet away; they heard the scuffle of your feet or your shaky breath and pulled their guns out. They were ready to shoot, but the second they needed to notice you in the dark saved your life. That is when you locked eyes with the man in front of you.

‘Eddie?’ you cried. Before he could say anything, you took the final few steps and closed the gap between you, pressing your lips against his. Just to know it was real. Just to make sure you had not gone completely mad. You pressed yourself against every inch of him that you could. 

With the need for air, you pulled back, and instinctually, your palm met the side of his face. ‘How? I saw you—’ You both breathed heavily, chests raising drastically as he turned back to face you with a smile and press his lips against yours again. Like the last pieces of the puzzle, his hands fit on your body perfectly. 

Then he pulled you apart, with his hands on your face, wiping away the tears that had formed along the way. ‘I know,’ he whispered, but the words were so close you could feel them. You could feel him. Just the feeling of his fingertips on your cheeks assured you that this was real and that it was really him. ‘And I’m so sorry.’

‘But why?’ You were trembling in his arms. 

‘I had realised very early on that the only way to truly escape this place was to die,’ he smiled the smile you thought you would never see again, ‘but, well, I was not ready for that just yet.’

‘But I saw you— I watched it all happen there—how did you—’ his being broke you. You could not stop staring at the man in front of you. At all the little knicks and cracks in his skin. The fading bruises, the scars, and the long red gash along his neck that proved everything that much more. 

‘I told you everything would be alright, didn’t I?’ And he never broke his promise. But still, as the truth settled in around you, it opened up a space for a new kind of hurt. 

‘Why didn’t you tell me? Why let me believe that you were gone?’

‘It was the one thing that actually killed me, believe me,’ he pushed the loose hair out of your face, ‘but I needed you to believe it like anyone else. If you believed it—it would make everything so much easier.’

You wanted to ask him what on earth that was supposed to mean, but that is when you remembered the boat at his side. And when you noticed Steve waiting impatiently behind him, the oar already in his hand.

 ‘You’re leaving.’ It wasn’t a question. Of course, he was. He couldn’t hide here forever. Out there, in the waters, he would be genuinely free. 

‘It’s all for the best, and with me gone for good, you could live on; move on,’ he said somberly. 

‘Do you think I could forget about you that easily?’ Your fist had clamped onto the material of his shirt. ‘Do you really think I think so little of you? That I had not spend every minute of the past days mourning you? Missing you?’ and now you had him… just to lose him again.

‘But it would all pass. You can find someone else, someone better, and be happy.’ He looked down at your hand to see the ring you had kept on your finger for the past few days. He kissed his ring and then looked back up at you. ‘Let me go, darling.’

‘No,’ you shook your head, much like you had in the dungeon, but this time, you were more adamant this time than ever. ‘I won’t let you. Not this time.’ 

He mumbled your name, trying to argue, but you were ready with a rebuttal before he even said anything.

‘I do not want to spend another day without you. Not if I know you are somewhere out there—’ you had been looking at the ring too, but then looked at him again as an idea formed in your brain. ‘Take me with you.’

‘I can’t do that,’ his smile was airy and light but filled with regret. ‘You belong here.’

‘No, I don’t. Remember what I told you when I came to see you?’ You pleaded with him. ‘Do you remember?’ You pushed the words out when he didn’t say anything. 

‘Yes.’ 

‘So, please, don’t leave me. Not again.’ At this point, you punched every word into his chest weakly as you began to cry again, and he let you. Then, when you were finally done, he held you, telling Steve off when he tried to put this to an end, even though he was right. There wasn’t much time left. The sun would come up soon again, and people would awake and see you, and it would all have been for nothing.

‘I wish I could give you the world, darling,’ he said, ‘I call you a princess, but we both know you should be treated as a queen and get anything you ask for, but I can’t do that for you. I am not the man you should be with.’ He kissed the top of your head. ‘Please, forgive me.’ And with that, he let you go. 

You had let him do many things in the past, but not this time.

‘Well, I don’t forgive you.’ He had already turned around to get to the boat, but you just stepped past him, stunning him and poor Steve, as you got in. ‘If you wanted the easy way out, Munson, you should have thought twice about who to kidnap.’ 

The two men looked bewildered momentarily, too stunned to respond, but Steve was the first to respond. ‘She’s right,’ and he followed you in. The boat rocked from side to side. You sighed as you looked at Eddie as he stood in the sand. 

‘I’m not scared, Eddie.’ you reached out your hand to him. ‘I want this.’ You wanted him. You wanted this life with him. You wanted to travel the world and have a life of adventures. You wanted to be free.

Eddie looked at you, still in apparent shock at your sudden assertion. You might have thought you had changed so much, but he still saw the same stubborn woman as that cursed day when you were hauled aboard his ship. On the contrary, he had been the one that changed, and he realised that as he cursed himself there on that beach. He knew he might come to regret this, but he thought he had regretted most of his choices, most of what he had done in the past months, and yet, he could not have been happier with where his life had led him, as it all led him to you. So, he took your hand and pulled himself into the boat.

You dropped the weights that had kept you anchored and made your way out into the sea where the Hellfire lay by patiently, waiting for her Captain and his Princess—despite what their titles actually may be—to return home.

The End.

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