#should I make more? with other characters maybe? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

noctiva · 2 days ago

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okay so. this was not supposed to turn into a full on series of wtv but y’all ate the first two parts up like dessert SO here’s some more

Clouded By The Smoke [Pt.3]

Toby Rogers x F!Reader [NSFW!]

Part One

Part Two

Playlist!

WC: 9.5k

Summary: Loving Toby seems more and more like a bottomless pit every single day. You wonder if the glimpses of joy he gives you are worth the pain of the in between. He wonders if the warmth of your affection is worth watching you fall apart.

CW: 18+ content, explicit sexual content,, recreational drug use, drugs other than weed, dealer!toby, addiction, toxic relationships, codependency, ‘i can fix him’, but like, can you?, extremely toxic behaviour on Toby’s part, he’s a wee bit mean, but it’s bc he’s coping, unsafe sex, vaginal fingering, creampie, spit and drool, sloppy makeouts, emotional manipulation, angsty angst, two characters going through a horrible time together, he wants to be better though, redemption <3

Reminder to separate reality from fiction! Acts written here aren’t meant to be endorsed or romanticized - be kind to yourself!

NSFW under the cut! Minors do not interact!

You’re not quite sure what you had expected to happen after that confession on the porch.

An overnight change? A complete upheaval of who you knew Toby to be, in favour of something better? You knew it was naive to think that a few simple words would be the catalyst for an immediate rewrite of his character, but with how sincere he had sounded… It had been easy to hope.

It, of course, was never that you didn’t like who Toby was - you did, that’s why you had fallen for him in the first place. It was just that the longer you stayed by his side, the more the cracks had started to show. The constant bags under his eyes. The tremors he’d get if he didn’t get his fix right when he wanted it. The lack of care for himself. Skipping out on proper meals if it meant he could shove a few more pills in his pocket, or pack a few more bowls for the two of you to share.

Toby moved through life like a ghost. Sometimes, you’d catch him off guard when he didn’t know you were watching him. Curled in his sheets as he sat at his desk just staring at the wall straight ahead of him. There was always a wrinkle in his brow and tension in his jaw, his hands clasped together in his lap in attempts to contain the tremble in his joints. He always smoothed it all out the moment he caught your eye.

‘J-Just thinking.’ He’d say. Always ‘just thinking’.

About what? He’d never tell you. Even though you thought you had started to make progress with him.

It was disheartening. Discouraging, knowing that it was so easy for him to just fall back into the habits he knew best. Not eager for change. Not eager for anything that wasn’t just a differently packaged way to turn his brain off.

You were eager. Eager for something more - something better - with him, but evidently not as much as you should be, because you just let him continue on. Never berated him. Never tried to steer him away from the course he had set himself on. Never pushed him when he went back to responding to your ‘I love you’s with a soft hum and nothing more.

None of that stopped you from staying. From crawling back under the sheets with him.

The idea though, stayed like an itch you just couldn’t scratch.

And one night, finding yourself where you always do, with his skin bare against yours and his hair tickling your neck - you decide to pick at it.

“Would you ever… You know.. Stop?” It’s a question that’s been weighing on your tongue for a while now, one that you’ve never asked because you’re already pretty sure you know the answer to it. But, there's that hope. That little flame of something brewing inside you that maybe - just maybe - there's an ounce of him that would want to try.

And the prospect of learning who he could be without it all? It was something you cling onto. Toby was someone you had always thought had so much potential. Potential that he smothered and snuffed out with chemicals upon chemicals and the flick of his lighter. There was someone in there, someone so profound and creative. Someone that you only ever got the tiniest glimpses of in the earliest hours of the morning.

It was someone you wanted to know better.

“Stop?” Toby asks, raising an eyebrow as he pulls his face out of the crook of your neck. “Stop wh-what? Dealing?”

“Everything.” Your voice comes as a breath against his shoulder, eyes closed as you finally pull back and lay your head back against his pillow - hair fanning out against the pillowcase. You can still feel your skin buzzing, your veins pulsing with the heady concoction of whatever had slipped off of his tongue, and onto yours just hours before. “Dealing, doing it, hanging out with people who also do.” Eyelids flutter open, and your eyes meet his - half-lidded and hazy. You’re not quite sure if you’ve ever seen him any other way. “You’ll get tired of it all one day, don’t you think?”

Toby lets out a soft sigh, his shoulders tensing as his head drops forwards to hang low. His entire body sagging like the very idea of what you’ve just presented to him is a weight. It should be something to work towards. Should be the end goal. To him, it seems like some sort of damnation.

“I…” A breath, a twitch of his neck. “I don’t th-think so.” He answers back softly, his voice smoke-roughened and raspy. Qualities you used to adore, now they just settle heavy on your chest. “If I… I-If I could explain it to you proper, I w-would, but I just.. I don’t think you’d g-get it.” His eyes flick away from yours. “This… All of this- It’s j-just who I am, you know? Can’t-Can’t really see myself living any other way.” You can feel the tension leech into his muscles, watch his jaw let into a hard line before a shaky exhale leaves him through his nostrils. “It’s… It’s the only th-thing that makes me feel human.”

Those words hit heavy, making it oh so clear to you that this wasn’t just something he could kick if you asked him to on a whim. It was his crutch. Something that he relied on to keep him moving and ticking.

You can’t help but wonder; is it that he doesn’t want to get better, or is it that he can’t?

“Surely that can’t be true.” You hum back to him - the sentiment more wishful thinking than anything else. You hoped that there was something else Toby had to cling onto, something that wouldn’t rot him from the core.

“I w-wish it wasn’t.” Toby mutters back to you, his eyes flickering back to yours before he purses his lips and reaches down. His hand curls around your wrist, gentle but shaky, pulling your arm upwards until your hand rested over his heart. It was racing beneath his warm, sweat slick skin - to a degree that made your eyes widen a little. Worrying, definitely, and yet Toby looked calm as he ever did. “I’ve t-told you before, I can’t… Feel things.” He mutters. “It’s like every nerve in my body is-is just dead.” His fingers curl around your hand, pressing your fingers into his skin - your nails digging into the muscles beneath with a force you know must sting. But, he doesn’t even flinch. Never has. “And it’s weird, just being n-numb all the time. Feels like… I’m a zombie or some sh-shit.”

Toby’s trembling, and you can feel it. His skin clammy and warm, his breathing shaky every time he exhales. He’s a mess, barely held together at the seams - and you’re really noticing it now. He’s so casual about everything that he does, always acting like it’s just his way of life, something he has ultimate control over. He’s always the one picking you up, not the other way around, but right now - it feels like he’s one wrong move away from falling apart. “Doing all this shit, it-it kind of… Fills in the gaps. If I get h-high enough, I can almost imagine what being… normal, feels like.”

His grip on your hand tightens, your nails dig in deeper - pressing crescent shaped indents into his chest, like he’s trying to get you to claw straight through and into his rib cage. “I can almost…” He swallows thickly. “A-Almost feel it.”

“But you can feel the good things, right?” You ask softly, the frown on your lips deepening. “Would it not be a good thing, to not have to feel pain?”

“That’s what everyone says.” Toby lets out a mirthless laugh, and you can just tell he’s fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “Life i-is about balance. Can’t really appreciate the g-good things if there’s nothing bad to compare them to.”

“But for you that’s just physically.” You argue softly. “It’s not like you’re numb from the inside out-“

“Startin’ to f-feel like it.” Toby scoffs, before letting out a breath and dropping your hand suddenly. It falls to your lap. “Like I’m r-rotting.”

“Well.” You let out a soft breath. “With all the shit you do, you probably are.”

It’s bitter. It’s mean, but - it’s the truth. Toby had been fun when you had first met him. He was carefree, consequence-free, sporadic in a way that kept you constantly entertained. His hedonistic way of thinking was something that you used to envy, how he always just did what he wanted regardless of how it looked from other people’s point of view.

Maybe it was all the drugs he gave you that made him seem so faultless.

Maybe it was your affection for him that blinded you from his misgivings.

You weren’t quite sure what the plan had been when you had first thrown yourself into Toby’s world - float along? Assimilate into him? Become a shell of who you believed you’d grow up to be?

In reality, you had never thought that deep into it at all. He was cute, and fun. Simple as that. If only you knew how dangerous that combination could be when wielded by the wrong hands.

“Yeah?” You watch the tension ripple through Toby’s entire body like a wave. His jaw setting into a firm line, shoulders going rigid, his fingers twitching where they rested against his own thighs. When his eyes meet yours, his irises are flickering with the sparks from whatever nerve you had just struck. “I-Is that supposed to make me feel bad?”

You don’t often see Toby get angry, with how mellowed out he prefers to keep himself, but you can always sense it brewing before he ultimately snuffs it all out again. His voice takes on the sharpness of a blade - low and controlled, but holding a tension that rises goosebumps on your arms and forms of lump of regret in your throat.

He only ever held that tone when you said something he couldn’t refute - like a dog backed into a corner, snapping its jaws at anyone who tried to reach a hand out to help.

Toby always shut you down, and shut you up. Shoved a joint, or a few pills into your palm and held your wrist when you brought them to your lips. Content with feeding you poison if it meant you’d never try to unpack his motives.

If you were as smart as you liked to tell yourself you are, you would’ve dragged your feet as far away from him as they could possibly take you. You would’ve spat the pills out right at his feet. But, you didn’t do that. Why? Because when you buried your face into his neck and let his heat leech into yours, when you looked up at him and got to witness the beauty of his eyes softening - you knew that there was something, someone, in there to save.

You just didn’t know you would lose yourself by doing it.

“No.” You murmur back to him, tilting your head to the side. “It’s just the truth.”

“Is it?” Short, snippy, Toby fires right back at you. Defensive in his every move and word. Protecting himself from you, like the prospect of improving was something he couldn’t bear. “Then w-why are you still here?” He leans down, daring your gaze to shift back to his. You don’t take the bait. “Sitting here, a-acting like some- some saving grace. Letting me feed you drugs while p-preaching against that very thing?” He scoffs. “Telling me you want me to get better, b-but you give in every single time. Just lying back a-and watchin’ a dead man rot.”

You can feel his breath against your skin, and you swallow thickly - your breathing going shallow like your lungs are scared one wrong exhale will blow this all out of proportion. “You say you love me? You d-don’t. How can you watch the person you love d-do this if you hate it so much?” Another breath. “You’re complacent. Y-You’re a coward.”

Your eyebrows wrinkle together as you head snaps back to look at him, his words striking you like a physical hit. His gaze is unwavering - steadfast - locked on you like he means every single syllable he’s said. And yet, with the way he’s trembling, you can tell that there’s more to it. There always is, with him.

“As if that’s not the entire reason you liked me in the first place.” You mutter back to him, so close that your breath mingles with his on every exhale. “You need a girl you can keep mindless all the time, otherwise you might have to actually let someone know you.” You tilt your head to the side a bit. “But I’m the coward, sure.”

It’s right about then that it’s made clear to Toby that you actually did the one thing he had been trying to avoid this entire time. You figured him out. He never thought you would, he thought he had been careful, but he seemed to have gravely underestimated who you were. He liked not having to think so deeply into his own actions. He liked that you just went along with every little thing he said. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to keep things going like this forever, but he had been hoping that it at least wouldn’t end with you trying to search for the answers he kept hidden from you.

He had meant it when he said that he was sure you didn’t love him. You couldn’t. You didn’t know him. Only the person he projected to you.

Some funhouse image of the man he was on the inside. Skewing his vulnerability to look like confidence.

It was easier this way.

It was also easier to push you away before you could dig deep enough to strike gold.

He peels away from you, skin separating from skin like a bandaid being ripped off - leaving behind spots of fading warmth where he had once been. Slipping away further and further until he was sliding off of the edge of the bed, sheets rustling when he stands and adjusts the waistband of his boxers on his hips.

Back to you when he opens his mouth next, probably because he knew your reaction would sting deeper than a backhand slap.

“Yeah, w-well.” He mutters under his breath. “At least I never f-fucked a guy just so he’d get me high.”

It’s supposed to hurt you, it’s supposed to push you away. By proxy, it wounds him too - like a double edged sword. He wanted to keep you around, to change for you, to learn what being better even looked like - but with each passing day it was starting to feel more and more like an impossibility. How do you rid yourself of something that has wrapped itself around your veins? Soaked into your blood? How do you change when you don’t even know who you were before you started tumbling downhill?

How could he accept your love knowing that he would only leave wreckage? That he already has?

He wanted to, more than anything, but he just wasn’t strong enough to weigh his options well. The drugs won out every single time, because feeling numb was safe. It was something he had grown accustomed to. There was nothing to worry about except for when he'd get his next fix.

You didn’t deserve that, always coming second best so some chemical feeling. He had told you that. Had tried to be nice about it. Had even tried to accept it for a little while - the idea of opening up to you - but nothing worked.

You never listened, and he always ended up shutting you back out again by the time the sun rose over the new day.

At this point, what other choice did he have but to hurt you? If you wouldn’t take his kindness, this was the only other route.

You’d crafted some idea of him in your head that was agonizingly far from who he truly was. Some fairytale saviour story, where you find him and twist him into the perfect man.

As much as he'd love to make that a reality for you, he just couldn’t find it in himself to. You needed a wake up call, before you got yourself in too deep to pull yourself out.

(As if you already hadn’t.)

Your mouth gapes open, your eyes widening in shock as the words he spit out at you sink right into your skin and settle heavy in your gut. Not even given the privilege of eye contact, you’re just left staring at his back as his shoulders shake with a heavy sigh. He shakes out his hair out, the knotted strands illuminated by the rays of moonlight streaming in through the window, and then he’s taking a step away. Then another. Forcing distance between the two of you, like he hadn’t just laid you down like a goddess to worship mere moments before.

“What?” You breathe back to him, absolutely exasperated as you sit up properly - pulling the blankets up with you to wrap around your bare skin. The sweat on your skin had begun to cool, and without Toby’s heat to ward off the chills, goosebumps start to raise on your arms. “Did you seriously just say that?”

“D-Don’t make me repeat it.” Toby huffs out, bringing himself over to his desk chair and plopping himself down onto it with a heavy breath. Still not looking at you. Still refusing to though you know he can feel your eyes burning holes into his skin. He’s too tense to pretend he’s completely unbothered. His hands shake too much when he pulls open his desk drawer. “You can lie to yourself a-all you want, but that’s all this has been, right?” A rattle echoes throughout the room when a little bottle of pills slips into his palm. “Free shit, a p-place to crash, dick whenever you want it.” He snorts and shakes his head before popping the cap off of the bottle. “S’not like I c-can blame you. Got too c-comfy. Confused it for love.” He shrugs. “Happens.”

A few pills fall into his palm, then he finally tilts his head to catch your gaze out of the corner of his eye. “You love the person you th-think I could be. But, that person doesn’t exist.” You swallow thickly. “You know that, you j-just don’t want to accept it.”

You watch him roll the two little white pills around in his palm and you’re up in a second, dragging his blankets along with you with a frown so deep it hurt. His words had sobered you in more ways than one, leaving you with an ache in your head and a tightness in your chest. Each breath near hurts, every step feels like a mistake - but he’s right. You push forwards because you’ve convinced yourself there's someone there to latch onto.

You’ve seen him. In the quiet moments. When he’s sober and sleepy right after he’s woken up. When he’s soft and relaxed as he holds you close to his chest. When his eyes light up and the tension in his shoulders loosens. In the latest hours of the night, when his lips spill more than he ever meant to, just for him to take it all back the next day.

You’re not crazy. You know what he’s doing. He’s smothering the part of him that feels, in fear of being hurt. But by doing so, he’s forcing himself into an even worse position.

It’s so backwards it just makes your headache worse.

“Put that shit away.” You snap, reaching out to grasp his wrist before he can tip his palm towards his mouth. “You haven’t even come down from the last dose you took. Do you really need that?”

“With how you’re a-acting?” He wrenches his hand from your grip. “Y-Yeah, I fuckin’ do.”

“How I’m acting?” You snap. “How I’m acting?” You’re not quite sure what spurred it on - the frustration, the anger, the feeling of being so utterly lost - but your wrist flicks, and your hand bats his away. The pills get knocked out of his palm, clattering against the floor and rolling off to be lost in different corners of his room. “You told me! You said you loved me back, and now you’re sitting here trying to take it all back!” You scrub a hand across your face. “Just spewing bullshit because you can’t fathom coming to terms with your own feelings. Grow up!”

“Are you not realizing what situation you p-put yourself in?” He snaps, his eyes flickering to the floor where his pills fell - hands shaking. “You knew w-what type of guy I was, and you kept coming back! I n-never promised you a relationship. I never p-promised you ‘love’. But now you’re acting like you’re entitled t-to it just because I haven’t kicked you out!” A quick once over and he lets out a disgruntled breath, realizing that those pills are definitely lost to the dust bunnies under his desk. “You’re paying for th-those, by the way.”

“Yeah, like hell I am.” You scoff, to which Toby’s eyes narrow.

“Ah, right. Forgot.” He mutters, his tone bitter. “Just gonna s-spread your legs instead?”

“Is that really all you think this is for me?” You ask, your expression wrinkling. “That I’m just sleeping with you as some kind of payment? That’s it?”

“I mean, sh-should we look at your track record?” Toby raises an eyebrow. “You let me fuck you the first d-day I took you home just because I smoked you out.”

“Oh, right, because I’m the one who threw myself at you right?” You snort. “Not you, pawing at me like a dog in heat?” You cross your arms over your chest. “Why can’t you just admit you like me? You’ve already said you love me.”

“L-Lapse of judgement.” Toby mutters softly, leaning back in his chair, the seat creaking under his weight. “What was I supposed to d-do? You wouldn’t let up on that shit.”

It’s getting to the point where fighting feels fruitless. All you’ve ever done with him is fight, and fight, and fight. Try your hardest, put in the effort of two people to try and pull him out of the slump he forced himself into long before you met him. Minuscule progress felt like a gift, the teeniest bit of affection felt like a prize. But with Toby, it’s always one step forwards, two steps back. Progress for a day at a time, before he goes and erases it all.

Pushing you away, and yet you continue to cling. It’s becoming humiliating. You thought you were better than this. Letting yourself stoop so low for a man who would swear he didn’t need you until the day he died.

And so, you give up. It’s been a long time coming.

You let out a breath, close your eyes for a moment, and try to keep a level head - but the words you speak next makes your entire body feel weighted.

“Do you want me to leave?” You ask softly as your eyes flutter back open. “If you do, then look me in the eyes and say it.” You watch his eyes widen a little, searching your expression as that heavy promise washes over him. “Tell me you don’t love me, tell me you want me to leave, and I’ll do it.”

He doesn’t respond right away. That much you expected. “You want to sit here and wallow in your own self-pity?” You mutter. “Fine. I’ve tried, Toby. I’ve tried to help you. Tried to love you. But if you’re just going to sit here and insist you feel nothing for me? What am I supposed to do? You’re making me look like a fucking idiot.”

“I’m not m-making you do anything-“

“Say it.” You snap. “Say you want me gone. I will leave.”

“God dammit- I don’t want you g-gone.” Toby groans out, pinching his eyes shut as he brings two hands up to rub down his face. “I just want you to stop… Stop trying to change me. I want you to-to stop viewing me as something to be f-fixed.” He runs a hand through his hair, his fingers getting caught on the knots in the strands. “That’s a-all I’ve ever been, you know? Something broken. Some fuckin’ fixer-upper. It’s always; ‘I-I love you, but-‘ ‘You’re cool, but-‘. And it’s like… No one considers that m-maybe I’m just happy the way I am. Maybe I don’t n-need to change.”

“Are you?” You ask him. “Are you happy?”

And he hesitates. Little does he know, he doesn’t even need to answer after that little slip up. It’s enough to know that anything he says next is just a lie to cope.

“…I am.” He murmurs softly.

“You’re not.” And you sound far more sure than he did. It irks him. You expected that.

“This is what I’m t-talking about!” He huffs out. “You’re just so sure that you-you know exactly what I’m feeling. You’re not me. You don’t kn-know me.” Toby lets out a bitter laugh, no humour to it at all as his head hangs. “Maybe I am ha-happy, spending all my fuckin’ money on drugs. Maybe I l-like ruining every relationship I make.” Every word he speaks sounds more defeated than the last. Acceptance in the form of self-deprecation. It’s a step forwards, but god is it agonizing to witness. “M-Maybe- Maybe I think that it’s fun to fry my brain. That it’s e-exhilarating, knowing I’ll probably be dead by thirty.”

You watch his shoulders shudder when he exhaled, his eyelids fluttering closed as his fingers curl into loose fists in his lap. “Maybe I’m not s-supposed to be helped, you know? Some people aren’t.”

You let out a breath before taking a step closer, the blanket you held pooling around you as you sunk down to the floor at his feet. One of your hands comes up to gently rest over top of his, and you can feel the tremor he’s trying so hard to disguise.

“I don’t think you’re broken, you know.” You murmur to him, curling your fingers around his in a loose hold. “I… I guess, yeah, I got it in my head that you’re someone I could ‘fix’ - but I don’t think that’s really what it is.” Your eyes flick up to look at him, your thumb smoothing gentle circles against the back of his hand. You’re more surprised than anything that he hasn’t pulled away. “It started out as just fun, but news flash - I care about you now. Even when you act like a complete dick.” You offer him the tiniest of smiles, and he latches onto it. “I just don’t want to watch you keep hurting yourself. You know that’s what you’re doing, right?”

Toby takes in a little breath, his gaze flickering from the curve of your lips, down to how gently you’re holding him. You always held him like that. Like he was something to be cherished. Something you loved. It felt just as foreign as it did exhilarating every single time your skin met his.

It was scary how much he liked it. It made him realize how much he craved it.

“Yeah.” Toby mumbles back to you, his voice hoarse. His fingers curl around yours, returning your touch. His grip is much tighter than you were expecting, like you were his anchor. Borderline clinging to you as a means to protect himself from crumbling. “I-I know.”

“And?” You try to catch his eye. “Aren’t you scared of where that’s going to lead you?”

“Not re-really.” Slowly, gently, his fingers slip down to slot between yours - intertwining like two puzzle pieces locking into place. “I’m more s-scared of you.”

“Me?” You tilt your head to the side. “Why?”

“You…” Toby sighs softly, leaning forwards a bit where he sits. His eyes finally drift back over to yours, gazing down at him with an intensity that makes you shudder. Theres just so much to unpack there - longing, fear, regret, desire. He’s a whirlwind of emotions, sweeping you up and catching you in the crossfire - but knowing what it means to see this? Knowing that it’s him letting you in? You’re more than happy to be here. “You’re n-not the first person that’s t-tried to-to do this, you know.”

Down lower, he leans. Curling his body over to get closer to you, gazing at you through his eyelashes as his fingers squeeze your hand. “This-This whole thing. Wanting to help me. I never cared. N-Never budged. Never really gave a shit about anyone other than m-myself.”

Every other little thing in the room fades away - the hum of the fan blowing, the chirp of crickets outside his window, even the softness of the blanket against your skin - everything just melts. All you can focus on is Toby in front of you, giving you honesty you’ve never found the privilege of being offered before. “But you- I don’t…” His hand slips from yours in favour of finding your cheek, cupping your jaw, his eyes scanning over each and every feature of your face. Like he was memorizing every inch of the woman he had let down over and over again. Coming to terms with it. “Something about you- I just don’t w-want to keep hurting you, alright? You had a real spark when we met, you know that? I w-watched it fade.”

His voice is hoarse and strained, cracking on the end of his words like he’s mere moments away from falling apart right in front of you. Fragile. Vulnerable. It’s the best he’s ever looked. “I want you to g-get that back. Want you to live.” His hand slips back, sliding through the strands of your hair, cupping the back of your neck as his body subconsciously draws him in nearer. Pushing you away was straining. Staying close felt easier than breathing. “And I do-“ With how he hesitates, you know he’s about to melt you with a few simple words. He does. “I d-do love you, okay? I do. I just.. I know that ss-saying it will make you want to stay. And I don’t think you sh-should.”

The emotions warring within his mind only ramp up battle as he watches your expression soften. Half of him is thankful for your devotion, knowing he’s been so horrible and yet here you are still forgiving him. The other half, curses himself for not pushing you away when he was so close to it. You had a knack for always making him cave. “I feel like, e-even if I did quit everything- Even if I got all c-cleaned up, found a real job, got sober… I still don’t think I’d deserve you.”

“Toby.” You breathe back to him softly. “What did I say to you before? It’s not who you are-“

“It’s-It’s who I am, I know.” He finishes for you. “But how can you even know who I a-am? Through all the bullshit I feed you?”

“Because.” You shrug, like it’s the most simple thing in the world. “You’re not as good of a liar as you think you are.”

“That right?” Toby snorts, the tiniest ghost of a smile playing at his lips. “So I’m a dick, an a-addict, and I’m a bad liar.” He shakes his head, raising an eyebrow. “What do you even see in me?”

“Well…” You hum. “I think you’re smart. Funny. Caring, even though you’d try to argue that I’m sure.” He rolls his eyes. “I just like being with you. Can’t really picture myself not being around you at this point.”

“But you said you’d l-leave if I asked.” Toby murmurs back to you.

“I would’ve been back by next week.” You chuckle softly, before letting out a little sigh. “I’m just tired of fighting. Tired of being the only one who wants to try.”

“I… I do want to try.” Toby breathes back to you, voice strained like he’s pulling teeth. But, he’s still saying it. Actually putting in the effort. “It’s… You’re just k-kinda uprooting me, you know? What if it’s all for nothing?”

“And what if it works out?” That’s what does him in. That’s what always melts him when it comes to you. Your unwavering optimism, your assuredness even in the face of his worst moments. When you look at him, it’s like you stare straight through him and into the very core of who he is. And your eyes? All they tell is that you see something good. Something he’s never seen in himself.

“Fuckin’ crazy.” He mutters under his breath, leaning down to press his forehead against yours. He’s still shaking. Maybe even worse now. “You’re nuts. God… No one should just p-put up with what I’ve put you through. You should be long gone.”

“But I’m not.”

“W-Why?”

“Because I love you.” As simple as that. Like it’s just as much of a truth as grass being green, or the sky being blue. You stayed, because you loved him.

Toby lets out an exhale that fans out against your lips, his eyes slipping closed in what almost looks like defeat. It didn’t feel like that though. It felt like surrender.

“You want me to g-get clean?” He whispers softly. “Want me to stop dealing? Be some typical, strait-laced member of society?”

“I want you to stop hiding from who you are when you’re sober.” You murmur back to him. One hand still keeps the blanket held up, but the other one drifts upwards to rest on his shoulder. He tenses up upon contact, but then relaxes. Like his body was getting used to the idea of being cared for.

“Then d-don’t leave me when I am.” It’s a plea. When his eyes open again and his gaze meets yours, you know that. All pride set to the side, he’s begging you. “And know that it won’t be easy. I don’t… I can’t remember the last f-full day I spent without it all. I’ll probably be an asshole.”

“Used to that.” You hum playfully, trying in vain to lighten the mood just a tad. But, it’s you, so it works on him.

“Yeah, well. Worse.” Toby snorts, shooting you a look. “So just like… Just promise that you-you’ll see it through? Because I-I don’t really think I could do it without you.”

“If I was going to leave, I would’ve by now.” You lean into his touch, lips curling into a smile that’s more genuine than any you’ve offered him in the past few months. You know that it’s true. You’re not quite sure when the switch flipped, and infatuation swapped itself for affection and care - but what you did know, was that leaving him just wasn’t in the cards for you. Caught in the web he had woven himself into, more than willing to let yourself be a victim.

But, you’d much prefer to snip the threads that held the both of you captive. You were sure that true freedom must taste far sweeter than the synthetic alternative he had been offering you.

“God…” Toby breathes out as the tip of his nose brushes against yours. “Y-You really do, don’t you? You really love me.”

“Yeah.” Exhaled against his lips without an ounce of hesitation. “I do.”

Silence stretches between the two of you for a few moments, nothing but the soft sound of breathing and the gentle press of his fingers into your skin filling the gaps. He breathed life into you with each exhale, giving you back every ounce of what he had bled you for. The pads of his fingers skirting against your flesh in an attempt to stitch up the scars he had created. Toby could see it in your eyes, how tired you were - so worn and exhausted, yet still so hopeful.

Always hopeful, that what you were betting on wasn’t just a fantasy.

He knew that you’d stay regardless of if it was or not. That was the terrifying part. That you’d just let him tear you limb from limb, so long as he held you gently while he was doing it.

“Why?” His hand slips back into your hair, brushing through a few strands before tucking them behind your ear. God, you’re just so pretty. Even with the bags under your eyes and the hollow in your cheeks. Beautiful, even when ruined by his hands.

“I just do. Not everything needs a reason.”

For someone who had spent the greater deal of the past few years believing that he wasn’t worthy of another person's love - let alone love so unconditional - it was hard to accept. Every molecule in his body wanted nothing more than to fight it. To hold you down, and tell you that you didn’t mean it over and over until you were mindlessly agreeing with tears streaming down your cheeks.

But, he'd be kidding himself if he thought that would ever work anyway. You’d insist on your feelings with your dying breath, he was sure. Your stubbornness was as enviable as it was infuriating. It was one of the things he liked most about you.

He had always known he was going to lose this fight anyway.

“C’mere.” Toby doesn’t even wait for you to respond before his arms are slipping downwards and weaving around you, scooping you up and hauling you up into his lap. “You’re p-pretty stupid, you know?” He murmurs once you’re settled, his fingers interlocked behind your lower back to keep you stable. Unlike earlier though, his words don’t hold even a hint of malice, or annoyance. Just fondness. A resigned form of affection. His voice plays to the tune of surrender, each word laced with the sound of giving in.

“So you’ve told me.” You hum back to him, tired eyes shining when they meet his. “So are you. That’s why we’re so good together.”

Hearing his own words echoed back at him sends a shiver down Toby’s spine. It feels like so long ago that he said that now. So long of denying you - denying himself - of something that could be so good.

“Yeah.” Toby chuckles lowly as his head tilts downwards. “Just t-two fuckin’ idiots.”

It’s expected when his lips meet yours. What’s not expected, it’s the gentleness he brings with his touch. You’ve grown used to how Toby moves - greedy, sloppy, insistent and barely contained. Always kissing you like he needed the intensity to cloud over the thoughts in his mind. All of that was absent this time around.

Slow, controlled, his lips move against yours. Dry and cracked, but somehow feeling so soft as they slot between yours. Shaky exhales leaving his nose and fanning against your face, hands pulling you in closer bit by bit but lacking the roughness that always preceded every one of his touches. His hands weren't expectant, they weren't coaxing, they were grateful. Grateful to still be feeling the curves of your body beneath them.

He held you like he loved you. He kissed you like he was apologizing. His words soon catch up to follow that. “I’m sorry.” It’s murmured in a breath as his hands slip forwards to form a gentle grip on your hips, thumbs resting just below your hipbones. “F-Fuck, I really am. Treated you like-like shit-“

You hush him softly as you bring a hand up to cradle his jaw, pressing your lips back to his as a means to muffle his choked off apologies. For you, he didn’t even need to say it - you could feel it. The remorse was seeping out of his pores, so potent you could damn near smell it. A haze of regret and repentance settling over the room the longer you let him hold you near.

You welcome it. It feels like a detox. Everything he’s kept buried down, every tear he never shed around you, all rising up and spilling forwards for you to collect in your palms.

Kissing him right then felt like a sacrament. Toby giving you not just a carefully curated piece of himself, but him entirely. Pushing past the fear, because you had proven time and time again that you’d never treat him less than gently.

He wished he could say the same thing about himself. “D-Don’t deserve this-“ He slurs against your skin when your lips separate, his mouth brushing a shaky trail across your cheek, to your jaw, to the slope of your neck. It’s a path he’s memorized by now. It feels different this time. “You know- You know I don’t-“

You tilt your head to give him more room anyway.

“Sometimes you don’t need to deserve things.” You answer back to him, eyes fluttering as his teeth scrape the skin just below your ear. “Sometimes you can just have them.” You lean into him, trusting and serene, putting your life in his hands for the nth time over. “And sometimes, it’s best to just not question it.”

“H-How can I not?” His hands work fluidly despite the tremor to them. Slipping under the fabric of the blanket you kept yourself swaddled in and brushing it off of your shoulders to let it pool around your waist. Still bare, still stunning, still bearing the marks his teeth had bit into you. “You-You came into my life like some kind of a-angel.” His fingers dance up your waist, a feather-light touch that gives you goosebumps. “Selfless.” Higher, they map out the grooves of your ribcage - the fragility of the bones that hid beneath your flesh. “Kind.” Cupping the underside of your breasts, his hands shake against the delicate skin. “T-Too damn accepting.”

A shaky breath leaves you and vibrates against his palm as his fingers press into the soft flesh. Not rushed - appreciative. Like it was the first time he had ever touched you.

To Toby, it felt like it. What he had taken hours before had started to dissipate, the effects leeching out of him and leaving the uncomfortable emptiness of sobriety behind. But you, you filled in those gaps. The softness of your body soothed the shakes that were threatening to consume his entire body. The flavour of your skin washed away that stale chemical taste. He couldn’t remember the last time he had touched you without something swirling in his veins to hide his nerves and boost his confidence. In fact, he didn’t think he ever had.

This was new. You felt new. “I th-think I could do it, you know?” His breath fans against your collarbones as his right hand kneads your breast, the other one slipping down to retrace the path it had made up your side. This time though, it slips down lower. Skirting past your hipbone, instead finding the crease where your thigh met your hip. His fingers sink into the flesh there. He can feel the heat radiating off of you, and it makes his heart jump. “I think… I think I could get better.”

“I know you can.” And he believes you.

You feel his fingers twitch, feel his breath hitch, and beneath you - you can feel his body responding to you in kind. The thin material of his boxers does nothing to disguise him, but you like it that way. You like the way it makes your stomach burn hot, like the butterflies that burst to life in your gut.

“…C-Can I?” You like that more. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him ask for permission. Not like this, at least. Hesitant and sheepish. Not expecting you to say yes.

It feels like a breath of fresh air. It feels like freedom.

“Yeah.” You breathe back as you press in closer to him. The chair creaks under your combined weight. “You can touch me.”

Toby breathes out something between an exhale, and a strangled groan as those words wash over him. Like he was wounded by the sweetness you poured out to him. Still, he moves, pressing his face into the crook of your neck - his lips parting in sync with yours when his fingers finally meet your core.

“God-“ His touch dances through your folds, a shudder going through his entire body as he feels your slickness coat the digits. “You-You’re too good-“ You gasp when his thumb finds your clit, jaw going slack when he rolls it beneath the pad of his finger like he’s done so many times before. It feels… Better now though, having all that sporadic eagerness swapped for gentle reverence. Working you over because he wants to watch you crumble, not just as a first step to getting you ready for him.

Toby could tell the difference just as much as you could. The way you trembled, how your voice choked out sounds so sweet he wanted to bottle them up. How you clung to him, bucked your hips towards his touch, leaned forwards to smear spit slick kisses against his throat. He felt like a veil had been lifted, and now he was seeing you for who you could truly be for the first time.

And god, were you a masterpiece. “Pretty-“ He gasps into your hair, his voice raw as his free hand cradles you - keeping you pulled in snug against his chest, not satisfied if he wasn’t feeling every inch of you at once. “So-So fuckin’ pretty- And so good-“ One finger turns to two, and then those two are curling jusy the way he knows you like it, a moan of his own slipping out in tandem with yours when you cry out and sink your nails into his shoulders. “You really- You really are an angel.”

He can feel your wetness soaking his fingers, droplets of slick running down his forearm - the most obscene sound ringing in his ears every time he sunk back into your cunt. Your body just welcomed him so eagerly. Warm and soaked, sucking him back in every time he pulled back. He had half the mind not to bring his fingers to his lips and lap up every drop of your essence, but only because he couldn't bear to leave you hanging. “My angel.”

Your parted lips leak drool against his shoulder, and he’s sure that his words are nothing but the truth. His free hand traces up and down your back, rubbing gentle circles as you shake in his arms. Thighs twitching, your chest heaving against his with every breath you struggle to pull into your lungs. “Yeah, th-that’s it.” He murmurs into your hair as he presses in deeper, the pads of his fingers stroking against your g-spot. And you were crying - clawing at him like you were trying to dig straight through to his bones. One hand in his hair, tugging at the strands for dear life, the other one tearing at his back with your nails.

Even without the pain it felt cathartic. He could feel it in the pressure of your grip, in the wetness of the droplets of blood your nails pulled up; you needed him. It wasn’t just something you said, it was something you felt deep in the core of who you were.

And christ, if he didn’t need you too. “C’mon,” Soft, a near whisper his words find you as your gasps grow higher and higher in pitch. “Cum for me, angel.”

You’re not quite sure what does it - his words, or his touch - but regardless, your body listens like he’s flipped a switch.

Toby catches you when you crumble to pieces on his lap. Murmuring soft affirmations against the shell of your ear as his touch soothes out the shakes. Cradling you like he was trying to keep you from falling apart at the seams, his own eyes fluttering as the sound of your moans circle around his head like a halo. When those sweet noises turn to gasps, and those gasps to shaky breathing, he’s sure that if he died right then as repentance for his sins he'd still be happy.

That’s something he’s only ever felt with you at an arms reach, or closer. “You s-sound so beautiful.” He whispers to you, gently using a hand to tilt your head out of the crook of his neck. Your eyelashes are clumped together, still wet tear tracks glistening on your cheeks as your sniffle. Flushed so pink and pretty, your eyes hazy in the best way as they meet his. “And you l-look even better.”

You let out a shaky little huff, cheeks only flushing darker as you press your pliant body flush up against his. You can feel his heart thudding against his ribcage like it’s threatening to burst free and fall into your lap. You’d catch it if it did.

When your trembling hands slip down lower, it only speeds up. Beating against yours to an uneven rhythm as his breath catches in his throat. You watch his throat bob when you graze a gentle touch along the waistband of his boxers. “H-Hey-“ He manages to choke out. “This isn’t a-about me, it’s about you.” And yet he makes no move to stop you. “It’s always about me.”

“I know.” You hum, your gaze flickering up to meet his. His deep brown eyes look darker than ever with how his pupils are swallowing them up, half shrouded behind dropping lids. “And this is what I want. I want you.” You smile softly. “Always have.”

And how is he ever supposed to argue with that? He always lost against you. Willpower weakened because giving in opened doors to such beautiful things.

Your laugh, your smile. The warmth of your touch when you start pushing the fabric off of his body.

He’s not quite sure he could deny you of anything anymore.

The blanket fully falls to the ground as you shift, uncovering what felt like miles of silky bare skin for Toby to rave over as you got him just as bare. Normally, this wouldn’t be so big of a deal. Something that he was used to.

To think he could’ve ever been so foolish not to rave over ever inch of you whenever he got the chance.

You felt like fire. Intense and overpowering, yet comforting and so warm. Flames of your desire licking at his skin with every move you made. Every muscle in his body so taut he was trembling, gazing up at you like you were a piece of fine art as you lifted your hips. Your fingers curl around him and he’s hissing through his teeth, brows pinching together as his hips jump into your touch.

His hands fly to your waist and squeeze, you being a lifeline. Keeping him intact just by being there.

And then;

“I-I love you.” Unprompted. Because he meant it, and for the first time ever - breathing the words out lifted a weight instead of adding one. He wanted you to stay - needed you to - and he was far beyond tired of acting like he didn’t.

And as you settle yourself over him - the head of his cock kissing your cunt as your slick dripped down onto him - you smile. Sweet, shaky, real. It’s the first time you haven’t had to force the words out of him, and it feels like a blessing.

“I love you too.” The feeling of him stretching you open feels even more like one. It’s slow, controlled - shaky as you let out a shuddering moan and weave your fingers into his hair. Languidly rolling your hips downwards and pushing deep groans out of his lungs, his calloused fingers pressing so deep into your hips that it began to ache - but you couldn’t blame him. You were sure that if he could feel it, he’d be hissing out curses from the strength in which you were grasping at the strands atop his head.

In the past, it always felt like there was an imbalance of power. You melting in Toby’s arms while he sat back and watched with an enviable composure, even when he was higher than you’ve ever been. That wasn’t this. This was equal ground. This was tearing each other apart, until you couldn’t tell when you started and he ended.

This was the way he borderline sobbed when your hips met his. How he gasped into your neck and leaked drool against your collarbone as he clung onto you for dear life. Moaning out your praises between every trembling breath, unrestrained and so raw as his lips left clumsy kisses against every inch of skin he could find. Pressing rumbles of pleasure into your flesh that vibrated through every inch of you.

Hands gently rocking your hips to meet him when he started rolling his up into you. Strained curses that punctuate every thrust - every time he sunk in so deep it made your body jolt. “Toby-“ Your skin ripples every time you sink down onto him, your face wrinkling in pleasure. Tears dot your lash line, threatening to spill over and retrace the already dried tracks on your cheeks. Toby’s leaning forwards to kiss them away before they can even fall.

That only makes more build. “I-I love you- God, I-“

“I know.” Whispered against your skin as he peppers a trail of kisses right back down to your lips. “I love you too.”

You’re half tempted to pinch yourself, to find out now if you’re dreaming before you let your mind fully clouded over. But, you know your mind couldn’t conjure this up. You’ve tried. Imagined this very scenario time and time again in hopes of manifesting it into reality.

It seemed to have worked, because the sting of his nails biting into your skin, the heat of his breath as it fans against your lips - it’s all too potent to be fake. “I-I’m gonna try for you, okay?” The bridge of his nose presses against yours as he keeps you locked in close, his breathing hitching as his cock dragged against your walls on the pull out. Sinking back in is even better though - his little slice of heaven, so warm, and tight, and so fucking his. Just soaking him, getting tighter and tighter with each snap of his hips.

Your thighs tremble, shaking from the strain, but his grip keeps you upright - so effortless it felt like it was his sole purpose to do so. “I-I probably won’t be good at it, b-but I’ll try.” A soft, wet kiss meets your lips. “For you.”

“And I’ll stay.” You manage, though it comes out half choked out between moans. “F-For you.”

“That’s a-all I ask.” Toby’s voice is strained and rough, every exhale sounding like a chore as his hips twitch - gravelly moans slipping off of his lips and straight onto yours. You swallow them down greedily. “Just stay.”

By now, that should be a given, but you’d repeat it until your dying breath if it meant he’d believe you.

It’s a dizzying blur in the most addictive way when his lips slot against yours again, smearing spit against your chin, his teeth knocking against yours and nipping at your lips from his lack of restraint. It’s like his body wanted to consume you, to drink up every last ounce until he couldn’t taste anything but you.

You accepted it - welcomed it - sinking your teeth into his bottom lip and tugging, swallowing back his saliva like you needed it to live.

And when you fall apart for the second time, you spill your moans right onto his tongue as his hands hold you through the tremors. He knows he couldn’t live without it when he breathes them into his lungs.

You’re just such a force to be reckoned with, that he finds himself tumbling over the edge right after you as your cunt pulses around him. His jaw goes slack, his forehead pressing against yours as his nails scrape of thin layers of your skin beneath him. Hips jerking, chests heaving, you shudder when you feel his cock twitch inside you. You smile when you feel that familiar warmth bloom deep within.

Lazy, sated - happy. You gently roll your hips even as your legs tremble from exertion, savouring the feeling of having him so close, milking him for every drop he could possibly give you.

He lets you, easily. Then, you fold. Crumpling forwards, your head comes to rest against his shoulder, eyes fluttering as you struggle to catch your breath. Sticky with sweat, tears, and everything in between, you melt into him. Beneath his ribs, his heart syncs up to the tune of yours.

“I-I mean it.” Toby murmurs after a few minutes, breathing out a heavy sigh as he rests his chin atop your head. His hands had found their way to your back again, calloused palms rubbing soothing circles against your shoulder blades. “I’ll try.”

“I know you will.” You whisper back to him, your words sincere.

“I can be g-good.” You’re not quite sure if he’s saying that to assure you, or himself, but you’re banking on the latter - because you’ve been believing those words for a long time before this.

And so you just say;

“I know you can.”

heyyyyy…… how y’all doin……

wow an actual full length fic from noctiva aint that crazy??? I’ve been putting off asks bc I’ve been working on this and a couple others at once this is just the first one that got freed from draft prison

i think this is going to be the last part of this little series btw!! unless I start thinking too much… which I am… prone to…

wtv!! hope you enjoyed lmfao

thanks for reading!

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borathae · 3 days ago

Text

↳ Index [Chapter 05 - The Wandering Market]

Genre: Fluff, Romance, "friends with benefits"

Warnings: this is a date change my mind, they wouldn't call it a date though obviously ;), idk this is just so nice and comforting and lovely and there is so much plot and lore and i just really really love this universe and these characters :(, there is obviously also so much tension grrrrrr i'm losing it, and so much touching like those two can't stay away from each other, but again! this is obviously not a date ;), i'm going insane, ALSO! ah! besties we are getting new characters ohoohoh

Wordcount: 14.3k

a/n: what if i want to live in this universe? omfg i just love them <3 this might be fave chapter as of now, the tension and the lore and just the vibes are so aaaaah!

Bang!

You sit up straight at the sound.

“Urgh”, you groan, rubbing your dizzy head. This woke you up and you weren’t ready yet.

Bang!

It sounds as if someone is dropping things outside. You are suddenly wide awake. The two Hunters must have managed to break in.

“Jungkook, wake up. Quick. I think the Hunters are in our house”, you say and turn to shake him awake. Except that his side is empty.

Bang!

What is he doing? You decide to get out of bed to check.

The scent of fresh air greets you because the front door is open. The floor is covered in his trophies. Your stomach twists at the view of them. So many dragon hybrids and other monsters lost their lives for these trophies…

“Oh, hey. Good morrow. What are you already doing up?” Jungkook greets you, coming back inside.

“Your banging woke me. Why are those things in the living room?”

“I’m cleaning out my study. It’s about time that I sell them. All they do is collect dust.”

“You are selling your trophies?”

“Yes”, he says and gives you a sweet smile before disappearing outside with one of the dragon trophies under his arm.

It takes you a while to make sense of what is happening. He appears and disappears three times until you can actually react.

“Are you actually selling them?”

“Yes. There is a wandering market in the forest today. Hunting trophies sell so well at those.”

“But they’re your trophies.”

“Not anymore.”

He disappears again. You stay at the same spot, following him with your eyes when he reappears.

“Take your time getting ready. Maybe you could wear something nicer today.”

“What? I’m going to this market too?”

“Sure. You’ll like it.”

“I will? Is it even safe for me to go out in public?”

“Yes and yes.”

“How are you so sure?”

“The market’s different. The laws of the kingdom don’t count there. You’ll be safe.”

“Okay. If you say so.”

“I made porridge. Eat whenever you’re ready. I’ll be here cleaning.”

You cannot move. You are frozen in disbelief.

He appears again.

“What do you mean that they’re not your trophies anymore?” you ask him.

He hoists an especially big trophy onto his shoulder.

“They’re not me anymore”, he says and disappears again.

You use the time to get breakfast, but your confusion remains. He gives you more answers on his return, speaking as he gathers more trophies.

“Truth be told, the two fucktards complimented my collection and called me their brother and it made me want to skin myself just to get rid of the disgust I felt. I can’t have them in our house anymore.”

“I see.”

He disappears again.

This makes a lot of sense and in a way, moves you. He really meant it when he said that he has changed.

“Do you like the porridge?”

“Yes, it’s delicious. Thank you for cooking.”

“Of course”, he says almost cutely and disappears again.

The porridge is sweetened with honey and spiced with nutmeg. He sprinkled fresh berries from the garden over it which are still a little sour. It is a nice contrast to the sweet honey and makes this a very good breakfast.

“Should I help you?” you offer.

“Not at all, I’m almost done anyway.”

He disappears outside for quite a while because he probably has to load his cart. You decide to use the time after breakfast to tidy the kitchen and bedroom. You wash up in a bowl and put on a simple dress over your shift.

Jungkook is loading the cart as expected when you come outside.

“It’s going well, it seems.”

He looks over his shoulder at you, “I promise I’m almost done.”

“Take your time, I’m in the back doing my, you know.”

Jungkook understands, scoffing in amusement.

“Thanks for letting me know. Don’t forget to cover it in sawdust.”

It is a strange thing how comfortable you became with each other. Two months ago, you would have never insinuated something as private as this and Jungkook never would have reacted with amusement. Neither would you have felt so comfortable existing in his proximity nor willingly looked for him after washing your hands in the washing bowl by the privy.

“Jungkook, where are you?”

“Upstairs! Almost done!”

He rummages about loudly, banging and clanging with stuff before his quick footsteps finally appear. He is in nothing but a towel, sending heat straight to your face.

“Found it. I swear I need to organise upstairs, it was a nightmare to look through my stuff.”

“What did you get?”

“Our special clothes. For me and for you.”

“Oh, wait. Really?”

“Yes, try it on if you want to.”

“Alright, alright”, you give in, hurrying to the bedroom.

Jungkook finishes dressing up before you, waiting for a little while before growing impatient. He knocks on the bedroom door.

“Is everything al-”

You open the door. His eyes widen in starstruck disbelief.

“Gods, wow-” he clears his throat, “you look…presentable”, he says, lowering his eyes bashfully.

“Oh. Uhm, thank you”, you say, giving him a little curtsy. You feel beautiful and the dress is very soft on your skin.

He retorts your curtsy, doing so hastily and almost clumsily. You wonder why he seems so nervous all of a sudden. You study him, which makes him seem even antsier.

“I, uh, I have this for you. I think it’s best if you wore it”, he offers.

“A scarf?”

“You never know. People might see your scales and…” He touches the side of his neck. “This is awkward.”

“No, I understand. Thank you.”

You take the scarf and put it on in front of the bedroom mirror. It isn’t a long, warm scarf one would wear in winter. Instead, it is a thin strip of fine cotton which you can tie into a bow at the front. The edges are adorned with the most delicate lace.

You cannot stop looking at yourself in the mirror. The dress is white with colourful flower stitching at the sleeve hems and collar. A comfortable satin belt accentuates your waist and matches with the red hair cloth. The delicate scarf truly rounds up the look, making you feel feminine and worthy of attention.

“This is beautiful.”

“It belonged to my mother. She wore it to praying hour.”

“Your mother wore this scarf?”

“Yes.”

“But I can’t wear that. This is too precious.”

“No, please wear it. If it rots away in a box somewhere, it would make me even sadder.”

“Gods, this is a lot of pressure. Truly.”

“But it fits you very well. You know, each holy day when we went to the praying house, she wore it. She always loved showing it off. I took it with me when I left the village.”

“Just like you took your sister’s rabbit?”

He touches his chest where he keeps the wooden toy in his breast pocket.

“Yes.”

“I see. I shall take very great care of it for the day and show it off just like she did.”

He smiles softly, nodding his head in agreement.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t.” You turn to face him. “So, ready?”

“Yes, ready.”

You share the front of the cart, sitting side by side as Calla pulls you through the forest. Jungkook has the reins while you enjoy the view. It is a sunny day and warm. You like the feeling of it.

“Did you take something from your father as well?” you ask, hoping that conversation can pass the time.

Jungkook instinctively reaches for the dagger on his belt.

“His dagger. He always used it to hunt.”

“I see.” You hug his arm, leaning your chin on his shoulder. “I’m glad to know that you have them with you.”

He looks at you. His eyes show that your affection confuses him, but that deep down he really enjoys it. A small smile curls his lips.

“Thank you.”

You retort the smile and straighten up.

“So, this market. Tell me about it.”

“As I said before, it is a wandering market, but it is so much more. There will be food and music and magic shows.”

“Proper magic shows?”

“Yes and there will be acrobats doing tricks.”

“So it’s like a travelling circus but with market stands?”

“Exactly.”

“Where are they from? I never heard of this market before.”

“From everywhere, really. I don’t know the detailed history of it, but I know that these people are not from this land, which protects them from Foltest’s laws. They travel from land to land, trade and entertain and then move on.”

“That’s wonderful. So how come you see them each year?”

“I think that they’re making rounds. My theory is that they rest in the homeland during winter and then travel in the warmer months.”

“So a life of travel and adventure.” You look up at the canopies. “What a dream.”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything to that. His travels were never nice. He knows, however, that you dream of it. So he stays quiet for your sake.

The market is around three hours by horse cart when pulled at walking speed. A small lake separates you from the market. Even from here, you can hear the lively music of the bards and smell the food from the stands. The tents are unlike anything you have ever seen before. They seem to be made of very strong, red and purpur fabric which is stretched over an octagon shaped base. The area is fenced off with wagons and natural scrubs and people come and go constantly.

One of the river’s side arms flows into the lake. You take the bridge over it, passing by a few people who are on their way to the market on foot. They follow you with their eyes, discussing the trophies on the cart loudly. Some talk about Jungkook as well, calling him this area’s Hunter, and then wonder who you might be.

The stares and whispers stop when you are on the market grounds. It is way too busy here and the streams of merchants coming and going masks your arrival.

Jungkook stops the cart in front of a black tent. It is a little further away from the main attractions and gives you a bad feeling. He jumps off and walks to the back to begin unloading the trophies.

You join his side, “is this the trophy merchant?”

“Yes. Salazar. He is a practitioner of dark magic and needs these things for his rituals and shit.”

“The energy around here is unsettling.”

“I know. You shouldn’t go in there. I’ll go on my own.”

“And I?”

“You can look around the market if you want to.”

“Is it safe?”

“It’s safer than Salazar’s tent. The laws of this land don’t apply here. You should be safe.”

“Understood. Then we’ll meet up on the main plaza?”

“Yes. And ___?”

“Mhm?”

“Don’t take off your scarf.”

“I won’t.”

“And maybe don’t tell strangers your name. Again.”

“Urgh, you’re never gonna let me down for this one, are you?”

He chuckles, “never.”

He disappears in the tent soon after and you make your way through the market.

You always knew that you still have a lot to learn about the continent and its cultures, but you didn’t know just how very little you actually saw. There are fabrics and metals you have never heard of before and spices you have never smelled. Smiths showcase weapons you didn’t know existed and alchemists offer cosmetics made of flowers unfamiliar to you. You wander aimlessly, taking in every scent, view and sound. There is so much to look at that you have to go a second round just so you wouldn’t miss anything.

“You seem to be a lady of great taste, can I interest you in this necklace?” a dwarven jewellery smith calls your attention.

“It’s very beautiful. Everything is beautiful”, you say.

The jewellery is sturdy and geometric, made of silver. Gemstones of all colours and sizes sit in the metal, reflecting the light beautifully.

“Is this silver?”

“This is mythril, my lady. It is lighter yet stronger than silver. It is said that it captures moonlight. My family owns a mine in the Silver Mountains. Which is quite an ironic name for mountains which only offer mythril.”

“I see. It’s so beautiful. If only I had the coin.”

You bid your goodbye, which he retorts with a smile. Mythril, what an interesting metal.

“Young lady! Young lady! Spices of the eastern sea! Can I interested you in spices of the eastern sea?” a human merchant calls your attention next.

“The eastern sea? This is so far away.”

“Indeed it is. These spices travelled by camels and ships. Try them, it is free of charge.”

The spice smells sweet and warm. The merchant mixes it into warm milk.

“This tastes amazing. Gods, what is this?”

“Vanilla, fair lady. A rare and wonderful spice one can only harvest twice a year from the vanilla orchid.”

“It smells so good and tastes even better.”

“Indeed and it is very versatile. Show me your wrists.”

She massages oil onto your skin. It smells just as sweet and warm as the milk, perhaps even stronger.

“Gods, this smells amazing.”

“Yes, it is a very versatile spice. Now this, you will love this. May I?”

“Yes.”

She massages another oil behind your ears. A flowery scent tells you stories of far away warm countries and peaceful days.

“This smells so good.”

“Yes. Ylang-ylang. A plant from my home. It is said that her scent has aphrodisiac properties.”

“Aphrodisiac?”

She whispers as if she was sharing a secret, “your lover will desire you most ardently.”

“Oh”, your cheeks heat up, “I understand.”

You and she share a giggle.

“You can use my oils on them as well. Tell me, are they a man or a woman?”

“Oh, uhm. A man, I guess, but we aren’t really-”

“Wonderful. He will love these oils. Rub them on his skin and yours and bask in the magic of these spices.”

“I, I would love to but I have no coin.”

“Well.” She purses her lips then clicks her tongue, “tell you what? Take this and see for yourself and if it works? Come back and get more.”

And so it happens that you leave with two very small bottles of oil. Vanilla and ylang-ylang. What peculiar names and most importantly, what wonderful scents. You store your presents in the leather bag you carry with you at all times. The merchant’s words haunt you as you travel the market streets. Lovers. Massages. Aphrodisiacs. Lovers. You and Jungkook? Lovers? This is insanity. Utter insanity.

The sounds of the market lapse into silence. A cold shiver runs down your spine.

“___”, a whisper penetrates your skull and reverbs in it.

You whip around, “who’s there?”

Nobody.

Just a tent.

Dark blue with golden trimming. The curtains are drawn closed, showing a symbol of the moon in gold stitching.

“Tent? Did you just talk to me?”

“Come closer and find out.”

You shudder.

“Well, this is definitely not frightening at all”, you mumble.

“Come closer, ___.”

Part of you wants to leave, but the moon looks so welcoming. So welcoming. Yes, so…welcoming. Perhaps if you merely took a peek, it wouldn’t matter. Perhaps. Yes…perhaps. Just a little closer.

The curtains are soft, opening on their own as you brush your hand over them. Clarity returns.

“Oh!” you jump back, but too late. The inside of the tent is visible and in return you are visible to the figure inside.

The smell of incense sticks and myrrh fills your nose. Golden magic dances on the smoke and sticks to the ceiling like stars. Crystals in all shapes and sizes fill out the tent and candles light the way to one lonely desk. Sitting behind the desk, surrounded by books and more crystals, a hooded dark elf studies you with her black eyes.

“I-I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude. I am already, already leaving”, you stutter, bowing multiple times as you inch back.

“Please. Come closer.”

The dark elf doesn’t use her mouth to speak. It feels as if she is whispering the words right against your neck. Shivers run through you.

You enter the tent. You cannot explain why you did, you just did. The curtains close within a second, making you jump and let out a small yelp.

“Sorry.” You stare at her with widened eyes, “I, I am not looking for trouble.”

“Oh, I know.” She points at the chair opposite of her. “Sit. I know that you are seeking answers.”

She has a crystal ball in front of her. It sparkles as if a small galaxy was trapped in it. Beside the crystal, a set of fate reading cards are stacked neatly and on the other side, a can of tea is brewing over a small flame.

“You are a seer, aren’t you?” you ask her.

“Indeed I am. As much as I have predicted your arrival, I can help you find your future.”

“How are you doing this? Why do I hear your voice in my head?”

“Magic. If I use my real voice, I risk speaking a future into existence.”

“I see. So futures aren’t carved in stone?”

“No. You are the stonemason and your choices are the tools made to carve it.”

You sit down, leaning your elbows on the table.

“This is interesting.”

“However the paths which you will carve are already decided”, she says and grabs your hands.

You gasp. Her touch is cold. You cannot pull back.

“Ashnak val dul bulduk”, she begins chanting in a language unknown to you. It is hypnotising and melodic as much as it is ancient and full of history. You know not to speak, staring at the woman in awe. The galaxy inside the crystal dances and swirls. This is fascinating.

You have never seen a dark elf before. The dark elves gained their names because of their origins. Unlike, their cousins the Elves, who grew up in sunlight and under luscious trees, the dark elves had their homes in lands with no sun. They worship the moon and the stars and easily burn in the light. Their black eyes are made to see in darkness perfectly and their skins are thin in order to absorb what little nourishment the moon provides. Their hair, although all textures are represented, are solely silver and more often than not, their ears hang down like those of bunnies.

They became rare these days. With the rise of Sunbringers, trained magicians specialised in sun magic, the lands of absolute darkness became rare and with it, the dark elves. You always felt a connection to them as a fellow hunted species.

The dark-elvish woman before you seems to have survived many centuries. Her long spindly fingers fit around your hands weakly and her long nails are painted blue and are brittle at parts.

“Iraldin hal bakdala”, she finishes the spell and looks at you. She smiles.

“Is it done? Did you see my future?”

“Indeed I did”, her voice in your head sounds closer and louder with a faint echo at the end.

“And? What did you see?”

“I saw coin, lots of coin.”

“Yes, I have a bounty on my head because of my blood.”

“I saw marked arms, those of a Hunter, holding you tight against his chest.”

Jungkook. Your heart flutters. He will hug you.

“Yes. He is my…uhm, he is…”

“I know what he is to you and you will know it too. Very soon.”

You scoot closer, “can you tell me more? Will we be successful? Where will I go? What will happen to him?”

“You will-” Her eyes turn white. She gasps. The candles spit angry flames. “Alaksan! Oht! Yvdabil!”

“What is happening? Mistress fate reader, are you alright?”

“Ropes around your wrists”, her voice in your head sounds tortured.

“What?”

“A curse in your stomach.”

“What?!”

“You will fight.”

“What do you mean?”

“The king. He wants you dead.”

“No. No, what do you mean?”

She opens her mouth and speaks.

“He will get hurt for you.”

“Jungkook? Do you mean him?”

“Jungkook, his name. Argh, he will, argh.”

“Will he be alright? Why will he get hurt? Will our plan be unsuccessful?”

“Your plan will not work how you wish it to work, but he will be happy with the result.”

You fall back in the chair, touching your own forehead.

“I don’t understand. Will he betray me?”

“He will…stay a name in your mind and a weight on your heart.”

“But, so, how…so he will betray me?”

“There are others out there who want your harm.”

You stand up, stumbling back.

“I, I have to leave.”

She closes her mouth. Her eyes return to black.

“You will regret your decision, but it will be too late.”

You leave without biding her goodbye. Your chest feels tight, your head hurts a little. What did all of this mean? Will Jungkook betray you? She spoke of curses and ropes and the king wanting you dead. Will Jungkook claim his coin? Will he stay in your head because he will betray you? But why would he get hurt for you if he will betray you? What does all of this mean?

Heat.

Burning, burning heat.

You yelp and jump back, escaping the flame of a dragon by a hair’s width.

“Gods”, you gasp, looking up into the sky where colourful flames dance in swirls.

They stop. The dragon, a man perhaps two years older than you, looks down at you. He seems displeased.

“You’re a dragon. You can spit fire”, you say, voice filled with childlike wonder.

“You’re blocking the view right now, kid.”

“What?” You look around. Lost in thought, you stumbled right in front of this dragon’s podium. The crowd, who has gathered to watch his fire show, look at you in a mixture of confusion and distaste for blocking the view.

“I am so sorry. I was lost in thought and, and, uhm, I am sorry. I am just going to…go.”

You hurry into the crowd, trying so hard to hide away in embarrassment. The looks follow you at first but jump away with another trick of the dragon. You watch it as well. Fire, flames, so beautiful. So hot. So colourful and alive. You have never seen dragon fire in real life. Sometimes, in your dreams, you can produce flames of your own, but they never come close to the real experience. This fire is truly alive, it is personal and strong, just as much as it beautiful. This is freedom. Right here on the market’s plaza, you watch a dragon show his fire and it isn’t dangerous. He can live as who he is. This is freedom.

Somebody taps your shoulder. You turn, coming face to face with Jungkook.

“Hello.”

“You’re back. How did it go?”

“Good, really good.” He smiles. “Enjoying the show?”

You look at the dragon. He is using his fire breath to knock over bottles. His assistant, another dragon but younger, puts them up on some rocks. The crowd cheers and hollers as the performer easily finishes his trick.

“Yeah, I’m enjoying the show”, you say.

“That’s good”, Jungkook says and for just a second brushes his pinkie against yours.

You glance at him. He is watching the show. So you watch it as well. He doesn’t touch you again, but his presence beside you is felt. In the kind of way which raises your pulse and you cannot explain what this means.

The dragon ends his show with a deep bow, basking in the applause. The crowd dissolves afterwards, but you stay behind.

“Hey, so”, Jungkook begins only to get cut off by you storming away to the dragons. He chuckles fondly.

The performer is sitting down on a bench just out of reach of the sunlight. His assistant hands him a jug of water. Their conversation becomes clear to you as you inch closer. You cannot understand what they are saying because their language is unfamiliar to you.

Their eyes shift to you.

“The great Namjoon will give his signature in an hour, please understand”, the assistant tells you.

“No, I’m not here for that. I just. I’m sorry, I never saw dragon fire before.”

“As I said, please understand.”

“It is alright, Jimin dear”, the dragon stands up, placing his clawed hand on his assistant’s shoulder. He steps into the sunlight, towering over you by at least two heads. His ears are pointy, his black scales cover them as well as his neck and his temples. His pupils are two black slits against golden irises. There seem to be flames burning inside the gold.

“Please excuse my friend. I am Namjoon of Exiloth.” He bows deeply. Sharp, pointy scales cover his spine, shifting with his movements.

You curtsey, “I, I am ___ of…honestly I don’t really have a home. I am just ___.”

He straightens up and repeats your name.

“It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“No, it’s all mine. You are a real dragon, aren’t you?”

“Indeed I am.”

“Gods, I never thought to see this day. I-I’m a dragon too.” You pull down the scarf to show your scales. “But I’m not real like you and I’m not human either. Gods. I’m neither human nor dragon. What even am I? Forgive me, I am rambling”, you say, fixing the scarf.

Namjoon places his clawed finger under your chin and tilts your head up. Compassion looks back at you.

“You are dragon enough.”

“I can’t even produce flames.”

“Yes, you can. You let fear hold you back.”

“I am. All my life, I was punished for my origin. I am scared that it will happen again.”

You thought that he would show compassion but instead anger flares up in his eyes. He looks behind you, showing his fangs in a deep snarl. Jimin appears next to him, showing his own fangs. He is a little smaller than Namjoon but still so much taller than you. His scales are silver with a hint of blue and his eyes are glimmering white and silver like falling snow.

“We are not bound by the laws of your lands. Leave before I melt the flesh from your bones”, Namjoon spits, chest glowing as he prepares to spit fire.

You finally look behind yourself. Jungkook stares at the two dragons with widened, nervous eyes.

“No, he is my friend”, you say and claim his side, “he keeps me safe from the king.”

“He is a Hunter. The murderer of our children.”

“He isn’t like this anymore. Please don’t hurt him. We’ll even leave.”

“No”, Jungkook interrupts you.

“What?”

“No, I will leave. This is your chance to learn about your people.” He caresses your throat tenderly. “To learn about your fire breath.” He caresses your scales. “I’ll just leave.”

“But.”

“It’s alright. Just find me in the tavern tent. I heard the ale’s good here.”

“Are you sure? We’re here together and I-”

“I’m very sure. Just find me when it’s time.”

“Alright”, you murmur, just a little unsure but he gives you a reassuring smile. Then he turns to the dragons.

He bows before them.

“I will spend the rest of my life repenting for my sins. Please forgive me for what I did to your people.”

Namjoon and Jimin relax, but stay on alert.

“Your humility saved you, Hunter. Now stand up and leave. Our patience is thin.”

Jungkook leaves with his head lowered in respect.

“Does he keep you against your will?” Jimin asks.

“No, I stay willingly. He is…”

“Your friend. We heard. He touched you like a lover would, however.”

“What? Oh gods no, we are just friends. Not even that, I think. He will save me from the bounty on my head and then we will be strangers again.”

“I see.”

You step closer to them, “I am sorry. Should I leave too?”

Their faces soften.

“No please, you can stay. Forgive our manners, we do not trust his kind.”

“I understand. I didn’t either before I met him, well, I still don’t but Jungkook isn’t like this anymore. I am so happy. You are like me, wow. Can you both breathe fire?”

“I cannot”, Jimin says, “I breathe ice, cold and sharp.”

“An ice dragon”, you whisper, “gods, this is the most amazing day of my life. Do you know a lot of other dragons? Is it true that we aren’t hated in other lands?”

They tell you many tales that day, sitting under the sahfe of a tent and sipping on water. They tell you stories of distant lands where dragons are still considered gods and that life in these lands are prosperous and good. They tell you stories of riches and comfort, stories of adventure and friendship and stories of good lives.

“And is it true that humans pray to us?”

“Indeed they do. Many are even too scared to look at us in fear of being disrespectful, while others treat us as equal.”

“And can you live in their cities?”

“Of course. Although our houses must be taller than those of humans”, Namjoon jokes, making you laugh.

“I can imagine. You are so tall, both of you. I was blessed by my mother’s height so it seems. My mother was human and my father was a dragon but he left her to fend on her own.”

“What was your father’s name?”

“I don’t know. Truth be told, I know nothing of my parents. My mother died because of me and the nuns who raised me were cruel.”

Jimin reaches out but doesn’t touch you, “my little dragon, may I hug you?”

“Oh? Uhm. Sure.”

He gives you a hug. Your face gets buried in his chest. He is so much bigger than you. It is comforting to be held by him because his spirit gives off a kind energy.

“You have lived through great grievances. I hurt for you”, he says.

“Yes, my life has been pretty bad.”

Jimin pats your head and gives you one last squeeze before he steps back.

“You can come with us if you wish.”

“What?”

“Exiloth has warm summers and fields of wine. The rivers are clean and the trees healthy. The houses are safe and the people kind. War and hatred do not dare to cross our borders. You could find a home there, away from the hatred of these lands.”

“I, I don’t know what to say.”

“We mean it”, Namjoon says, “your life doesn’t have to be cruel. You have a home in Exiloth.”

“Gods, this is more than I thought I would receive from you. I, I don’t know. This is a big decision and I didn’t tell Jungkook.”

“Worry not, you have until tomorrow. We are gathering people like you here, by the lake. You can join us if you wish. We will leave by noon.”

People begin queuing behind you. The signature event. You don’t have time anymore.

“I will think about it.”

They nod, giving you kind smiles. You bow.

“Thank you. I am so happy to have met you.”

“The pleasure is all ours.”

“Hey, lady. Don’t hold up the queue, we wanna meet him too”, a man calls behind you. Rude.

“I will go. Thank you for everything.”

The queue begins moving quickly once you left and the two dragons become busy. Jimin gives you one last wave, which you eagerly return and then you make your way to the tavern tent.

Said tent is on the opposite side of the plaza. The fabric is red with golden trimming and the curtains are drawn open with thick rope. Music and chatter meets your ears just as the scent of grilled meat fills your nose. People don’t acknowledge you as you enter the tent, they are too busy eating and drinking. In the left corner of the spacious tent, a small stage is built. A band of bards plays on it and in front of it, couples and single people dance to the music. On the opposite side of the entrance, a wooden bar is built. Ten bartenders hurry around behind it, serving their patrons. On the right corner of the tent, a big orc in chef attire cooks and grills on open fire. Every now and then, he calls out an order and one of the many foot personnel picks it up to carry it to one of the countless tables. There are a few dragons and dragon bloods in the midst of the staff. There are elves, humans, dwarves and halflings existing together with them. This could be your life. Being part of a community. Having a place to call home.

Your eyes fall on Jungkook. He is by one of the tables, drinking ale all alone. You could have a home, so why does your chest tighten when you think of leaving?

He meets your eyes. His face once stoic, lights up. He gets to his feet, waving with both arms. He seems so, so excited to see you and it is weird because your chest tightens even more from it.

You make your way to him. He rounds the table and pulls the bench out for you, grunting as he does because it is heavier than he thought at first.

“You didn’t have to”, you say, snickering.

“It’s alright. How are you? Did you learn a lot?”

You sit down, watching him sit down as well.

“It was amazing. There are dragons who are free. Can you imagine? They are able to live without worry, they are welcome in villages and people do not spit at them when they pass them.”

“It sounds as if you had a good time.”

“Oh, I did. I really did. They were so kind and so welcoming. One of them even gave me a hug.”

“What? A hug. Why is he giving you a hug?” he asks and, it sounds unbelievable, pouts.

“Uhm…”

“I mean, you don’t know them. It’s weird that strangers hug you, don’t you agree?” he says, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

“I…honestly couldn’t tell you”, you murmur.

Is he jealous? This is awkward. For both of you.

“Welcome. What can I get you?”

Thankfully one of the servants interrupts the moment.

“Uhm. Ale please and something to eat.”

“Great. We have pork ribs, venison in a spiced wine sauce, chicken curry and for our vegetarians we have a roasted roots platter on leafy greens and a savoury pepper sauce.”

“Gods, this sounds delicious. I’ll take this.”

“And for you, Sir?”

“I’ll take the chicken curry.”

“Wonderful. Coming right up. Hey, Grog! We need the CC and the RP at table twenty!” she is screaming at the orc as she leaves to which he gives her a thumbs up and goes straight to work.

“What the hell is a vegetarian?” you ask Jungkook.

“No idea. What the hell is a curry?”

“No idea.”

You exchange a look and break into snickers.

“I feel like our sense of adventure will be our downfall”, you say.

“Right. Hopefully it will be good. I hate nothing more than when you order something and it tastes bad.”

“I agree. I thought I could order it because no animal needed to die for it.”

“I knew you would, the moment I heard what’s in it. I thought I needed to try new things, now that we are here.”

“I really thought that you would take the pork.”

“I wanted to, but changed my mind last second.”

You and he snicker again.

“Oh gods”, Jungkook lets out in a content sigh. He studies your face, eyes softening and lips curling into a faint smile. He reaches over the table, placing his hands over yours. His thumbs draw little circles on your skin.

“What’s the matter?” you ask him, heart racing uncontrollably.

“Nothing. I’m in a good mood”, he says and, believe it or not, his eyes become even softer.

“Hah”, you let out, shifting your eyes to the table in coyness.

He retreats his hands, looking into his ale. He feels things in his chest, which he is familiar with, but knows he shouldn’t when it comes to you. He cannot stop it even if he tried.

“Hey, so”, he begins in hopes that changing the topic will also get rid of the tension.

“Yes?”

“Look how much coin the trophies brought”, he says and holds up two big bags of coins.

“By the gods, this is a lot.”

“It is. Here”, he says and puts the bags in front of you.

“What do you mean?”

“They are yours.”

“Huh? No, they are not?” you push them closer to him.

“Take them.” He pushes them back. “I want you to have them.”

“Why?”

“Because…see it as my apology to your kind. I did a lot of bad things to them and I did a lot of bad things to you. I want you to have the coin I made at the cost of your people.”

You eye the bags.

“But this is so much.”

“Good, you can use it. It wouldn’t feel right for me to own it. I don’t deserve it. A dragon deserves it as compensation. I want you to have it.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am.”

You finally take them. The purses are heavy. You hide them in your bag instantly.

“I don’t know how to react, so I’ll just…”, you squeeze his hands, “thank you.”

His eyes soften. He smiles, “of course. Don’t feel shy now, yes?”

“That is easier said than done when you practically handed me wealth.”

He laughs, “well, perhaps you can spend some of it here. Have you visited the market stands already?”

“I have. I saw a necklace made of mythril.”

“Mythril? This is a rare metal. You can buy it now that you are rich.”

“Maybe. I don’t know. Maybe I’ll safe it for better times.”

“Yes, maybe.”

Your ale arrives. You clink jugs with him and take a healthy gulp. You set it down with a sigh.

“And I saw a fate speaker. She was kind of scary.”

“I never really believed in those. We are the makers of our destiny and it can change at any time.”

“I hope so. She said things about you.”

“Me? Why would she mention me?” he asks, tugging a strand of hair behind his ear.

“She said that you will get hurt and that…” You think back at how he knelt before the dragons, you think of the heavy coin in your bag because he sold his trophies, you think of how he hid you from the two Hunters. And you see how he looks at you right now.

“Nevermind, you’re right. The future isn’t carved in stone”, you say, shaking your head.

Jungkook gives you a sympathetic smile, “it won’t happen. Whatever she said, it won’t happen.”

“I hope so.”

Food arrives seconds later and attention shifts with it. You and he ooh and aah at the view before taking a bite each.

“By the gods, this is good”, you gush, “how is yours?”

“Only the best thing ever”, he says with his mouth full. He chews and swallows, “want to try?”

“Sure. You can try mine too.”

“Gods, yours is very delicious.”

“Yours is amazing. Curry is amazing.”

It is needless to say that late lunch – or early dinner how one might look at it – in this cozy market tavern is very successful. Being adventurous definitely paid off for both of you. The ale is just as delicious as the food, cooling you off because the tent saves quite a lot of heat.

“So this fate reader, did she say anything else about me?” Jungkook asks. You have almost finished lunch by now.

“I thought you said that you don’t believe in this kind of stuff.”

“Yes, well”, he shrugs his shoulders, “I can still be curious. Even if it is just to call it a scam.”

“Well, she said that you will become violently gassy and pop like a bubble.”

“Haha, very funny”, he says and flicks your forehead gently which makes you laugh.

“No but seriously, she said that you will hug me.”

“I see. What a vague thing to predict.”

“But then, she did only predict a hug and didn’t mention you, perhaps she spoke of Jimin.”

“Jimin?”

“The dragon who hugged me.”

“Ah.” Jungkook tongues his cheek. “Either way, future speaking is all just a pile of bull crap”, he says and stabs the last piece of chicken especially roughly.

You have to fight the urge to snicker. Who would have thought that this could get him riled up.

You stay in the tent after lunch, digesting the food and watching people dance. The music is lively and encourages clapping. Jungkook watches you. You are smiling and laughing so much. It is almost as if you are experiencing life for the first time and in a weird way, it helps him see life in a new light as well. Perhaps it isn’t as dark and depressing as he thought it is. Perhaps life is bright and exciting and full of laughter.

“Hear thee, hear thee! The flower dance calls!” The bard screams and people begin cheering and hollering. They jump up from their seats just to get a spot on the dance floor.

You laugh and squeak as you try to follow each of them with your eyes.

“What’s happening?” you giggle, bouncing on the bench in excitement.

Jungkook jumps up and rounds the table. He takes your hands.

“Come on.”

“Wait. What? Where are we going?”

“You heard the bard. The flower dance calls.”

“But I can’t dance.”

“That’s alright, just follow the others”, Jungkook says and drags you into the circle of dancing people.

The flower dance is an unofficial tradition at festivals and markets. When the bards call out, the patrons need to get to the dance floor as quickly as possible. What follows are minutes of pure, unfiltered joy. The bards play a lively and motivating tune while the people dance in a circle. The flower dance is a group dance which doesn’t really have any rules, but which somehow always ends up working out perfectly.

Jungkook partook in this unofficial tradition quite a few times already, while you glow as if this was your first time. It is your first time. People normally go the other way when you appear or refuse you entrance. So this is totally new to you and you fear that you might burst in joy.

The group separates into two circles. One stays outside, jumping clockwise. The other jumps closer to the middle to meet there and clap hands. You and Jungkook are part of this circle, meeting in the middle and holding hands more than you clap them.

“And? What do you think of it?”

“I’m having so much fun!”

The circle breaks apart as your group exchanges spots with the other group. You link arms with two strangers and begin jumping in a clockwise direction.

Truly, you believe that this is what life is about. You finally know. Existing together with other people, having fun with them and not caring about their origin. To think that this is the reality other lands experience. It is unbelievable to you.

The dance changes into its third and final phase. The bards play their hearts out on stage, the mood in the tent has reached its peak. Now it is each person for themselves. The circle formation remains, but you break up so each person can jump to the music. It happens naturally that the outer circle and the inner circle melt together as either closes the distance in rhythmic jumps. You meet your partner for the next part. A halfling woman who smiles up at you with bright eyes. You hold hands and twirl, jumping at the same time. Laughter is splendid. You change partners again, using the moment of the jump and twirl. Human, elf, dragon and dwarf. Pale, tan or dark skin. Young or old. Tall or small, thin or thick. It truly doesn’t matter how one looks right now, what flows through their veins or how much coin they own. You hold hands and dance with each other and equality exists. For just a short moment complete equality exists.

The hands you hold next are familiar to you. They touched you, held you, caressed you in countless ways already and this current connection is sparkling.

His cheeks are flushed by now and his eyes sparkle as if entire galaxies were in them. He intertwines his fingers with you and begins to twirl with you.

You squeal loudly, throwing your head back as the world around you blurs. You can hear his laughter as well. He sounds so young and carefree. And for just a short moment in time, you feel invincible.

The dance comes to an end. As tradition demands it, the bards sing the ending acapella while the patrons scream the words back at them enthusiastically.

“Hoi!” the tent ends the dance with a happy yelp, following it up with laughter and applause as everyone agrees that this was the most fun in years. Naturally, the dance floor empties itself again.

The song changes to something slow. This should be your cue to go as well, but Jungkook keeps you on the dance floor. You are face to face, his left hand is on your waist, his right holds your hand.

“What’s this?”

“Dancing.”

Dancing. You have been dancing for three songs already and yet this doesn’t feel like it did before. It is just you and him. No other people, no moments of distance, no feeling of community. Just you. Just him. Face to face and eyes unable to break connection.

His face softens when he smiles at you. He runs his hand up and down your back. You swear that you will be able to recall this touch forever.

“Was this your first time?” he asks.

“It was.”

“How was it?”

“Wonderful. I still feel giddy. I’m out of breath”, you say, having to laugh as you speak.

He chuckles, eyes sparkling playfully, “good to know that I get this reaction out of you twice.”

“What?”

He smirks.

“No, you.” You slap his chest gently. “You are gross. I didn’t mean it like that.”

He laughs, “I had to.”

“No, you didn’t, you could have stayed quiet. You are inappropriate.”

Jungkook genuinely has to fight the urge to squeal, masking his joy by squeezing your waist and grinning brightly. This kind of banter sets his heart aflame.

“I’m glad that you decided to join me”, he confesses.

“To be fair, you kind of said that I should go.”

He laughs, “you could have said no, but you didn’t.” He smiles with his eyes. “Thank you.”

“Hah”, you laugh nervously, looking to the side. What the fuck is he doing and why is it making your heart feel so funny?

“Yes well, you probably would have found good company here as well”, you say, hoping that he can’t see your nervousness.

He doesn’t say anything to that, he just keeps looking at you.

“No”, he finally says and before you can react, twirls you.

The dance naturally asks of you to change partners, but your eyes keep lingering on him. What does he mean with that? He meets your gaze, dancing with a woman without touching her. You shift your eyes away. Now that you think about it, your current dance partner isn’t touching you either.

“Are you enjoying the market, kind lady?” he makes conversation.

“I am. And you?”

“Yes, yes it is a good opportunity to get out of the house for once. Gods know we need our small moments of respite in these trying times.”

“Indeed. War has been cruel to us all.”

“Yes, yes very cruel. Damn the king.”

“Yes, damn him.”

You swirl and change partners again. Further away from Jungkook. Your back is turned to him, making it impossible to look at him. Your new partner doesn’t touch you. He is an old man barely able to stand, but who seems in a good mood despite it.

“G’day, young lady.”

“Good day, sir.”

“Me ol’ bones are slow, I hope ye don’ mind.”

“Not at all”, you assure him to which he gives you a smile, showing you his missing front teeth. You retort the smile, feeling warm in your chest. This market is healing you. To have strangers smile at you fixes a lot of cracks on your heart.

You twirl and fall into the arms of your new partner. His touch seeps into your skin, drawing your eyes to his face.

“Hey, there.”

“We aren’t supposed to touch.”

Jungkook laughs softly, “so why is your hand on my shoulder gripping me as if you needed it?”

You pull your hand back, “shut up. You’re not all that.”

He laughs and leans in to whisper.

“Don’t pretend. I know you like it with me.”

“Urgh, you’re such an ass”, you hiss and try to flee in embarrassment. He pulls you back, twirls you once and catches you. His hold on you is even tighter afterwards.

“Fuck the rules, am I right?” he coos.

You huff out air.

“Don’t pout”, he chuckles as he speaks, “I’m sorry that you’re so fun to tease. I wasn’t serious.”

“Whatever. You’re still an ass.”

He chuckles, squeezing your waist. He leans closer, letting his voice tickle your ear as he talks.

“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Being sweet and drawing me in. You smell so good. You didn’t smell this way when we left”, he says and brushes his nose against the spot behind your ear. Next he guides your wrist to his nose, meeting your eyes afterwards.

“What did you do? You’re trying to seduce me, aren’t you?”

“No?” You chuckle nervously. “There is this merchant. She sells spices and she gave me perfume oil made of ylang-ylang and vanilla. I simply tried it because I was curious.”

“Whatever it is, you smell wonderful”, he says and brushes his nose against your neck a second time. He pulls you closer, hand slipping to the lowest part of your back before his touch would become indecent. “My head’s fucking foggy because of you.”

Your stomach tingles. The merchant was right.

“People are staring”, you whisper.

“Of course they are. You’re beautiful.”

“What?” You step back, eyes widened in shock.

He seems flabbergasted at first before he masks it with a chuckle.

“I’m fucking drunk. The ale’s strong”, he lies, but the damage was done. Your heart races and he feels warm in the face.

“Right, I’m drunk too”, you lie. “We should probably take a walk to, uhm, sober up”, you say, playing with the sleeves of your dress nervously.

“Right. I haven’t seen the booths yet.”

“You haven’t.”

The sun is beginning to set behind the forest, but the market is still busy with life. The two dragons Namjoon and Jimin perform on the plaza, too busy to spot you as you pass them. A group of sword dancers show off their skills under a sycamore tree. Little children watch the show with big, sparkling eyes and no worries in their hearts, all while their parents enjoy the moment of peace to relax under the setting sun.

“You! Hey, you!”

You and Jungkook stop in front of a tent. A young man calls you over with a wave.

“You two seem like good throwers. Why don’t you try your luck at the game and win one of my exclusive prizes?”

“No, thank you”, Jungkook dismisses him.

“But kind sir, you can win rare items.”

“Thank you, we are happy.”

The man gives up, calling over other people instead. They accept, chatting in the background.

“Why did you dismiss him?”

“These booths are nothing but coin grabs. He promises you victory but the games are rigged. Come on, let’s go somewhere else.”

You stay by the booth, watching with sparkling eyes as people try their luck at the throwing game. Jungkook calls your name, but you don’t hear him.

It seems that the player needs to throw a small ball into buckets around four meters away from them. It seems easy, however, the booth owner moves various wooden shields in front of the bucket by turning a lever as quickly as possible. The mechanism seems highly complicated and outerworldly.

“Hey”, Jungkook finally calls your attention with a gentle touch to your waist.

“What?” You look at him.

“I asked you if you were coming.”

“Oh. Uhm, yeah sure”, you mumble, eyes drifting to the game.

“You want to play, don’t you?”

You nod your head.

“Forget about it, it’s a fraud.”

“I haven’t played at carnival booths, they wouldn’t let me”, you say in a whisper, eyes carrying a hint of a beg.

Jungkook melts in defeat.

“Alright fine, one game. Whoever wins gets a favour from the loser.”

“Yes okay”, you giggle, bouncing in happiness as Jungkook leads you back to the booth with his hand on your lower back. He doesn’t regret it. Not when he can make you smile this fucking wide.

“You are back”, the booth owner greets you.

“The fair lady wants to try her luck”, Jungkook says, sliding over two coins.

“If that is so, good luck my lady. The rules are simple, get the balls into the bucket and win. The more balls the higher the price. Good luck”, the booth owner says and places six small balls on the table in front of you.

“Remember, if you lose you owe me a favour”, Jungkook tells you, stepping aside.

“So this is a competition? You are going to play too?”

“Naturally.”

“I’m really good at throwing things.”

“We’ll see”, he says, eyes gleaming mischievously.

You scoff, “alright then, bring it on.”

The ball is made of a sturdy fabric and judging by the weight and feel of it, is filled with sand. You lift your arm, readying yourself for the throw.

Pinch.

“Eek!” You squeak and escape with a giggle as Jungkook playfully pinches your side to tickle you. “Hey! This is cheating!”

He snickers, lifting his hands.

“Stay. Away”, you warn with a glare. He thinks that it is adorable, watching as you ready yourself for the first throw. It bounces off the shield.

“Bad start. Doesn’t look good for you”, he teases.

“Shut up. It’s because you distracted me”, you mumble, throwing the second ball. It bounces off and lands in the bucket. “Yes! Did you see that?”

“Total luck. You won’t be able to do it again.”

You ready yourself for the third throw. Jungkook pushes you to the side gently, making you mess up.

“Jungkook”, you hiss, shoving at his chest, “this isn’t fair. This is against the rules!”

“I never said anything about rules.”

“Urgh, you are so aggravating”, you grumble, stomping your foot before you return to the task ahead. You only have three balls left and you need to make them count. You need to prove it to him.

The fourth one lands in the bucket. The fifth one bounces off the shield, making you curse and Jungkook tease you.

This is your last try. Jungkook inches closer to you, placing his hand on your lower back.

“Don’t mess up now”, he whispers against your ear. Shivers run down your spine.

“Shut up”, you get out through gritted teeth, trying not to let his touch distract you.

You lift your arm.

“Careful now.”

“Be quiet.”

“Ah-ah are you sure that you want to throw it like this?”

You lower your arm again, facing him.

“Step away. Stop trying to distract me.”

Jungkook smiles the kind of smile he never showed you before, looking at your lips. It makes your heart flutter.

“Forgive me”, he isn’t serious. He steps back. “Go ahead.”

“Tch”, you scoff and pick up the ball again. You have to prove it to him - and yourself - that his antics aren’t distracting, that this means nothing to you. You aim, prepare and throw.

The ball bounces off the shield, falls against the edge of the bucket and….scores.

“Yes!”

Jungkook claps into his hands, “lucky. You were lucky.”

“No, I wasn’t lucky. I’m skilled”, you throw back cockily, nudging his chest, “so suck it. I got three balls into the bucket.”

Jungkook smiles brightly, staring at your face. He seems obsessed.

“I, uhm…” his teeth are so nice. What? Why are you looking at his mouth?

“Congratulations, fair lady. Here is your prize.”

Yes, right. The prize. The reason why you are supposed to play this game. You clear your throat and look at what you won. A small doll made of cloth.

“Oh, this is pretty. Thank you”, you say, cradling her in your hands. “Look, I won a doll.”

“It’s wonderful. My turn, sir”, Jungkook says, placing two coins down on the table. He has his serious face on, staring the bucket down as if he was trying to hunt it.

You decide to enact revenge. You stuff the doll into your neckline so it was facing him.

“Are you confident that you can beat me?”

“Very. I’m better than you.”

“I doubt it. After all, you say these things are frauds and now look at me. I got a doll.”

Jungkook hums and prepares to throw.

“Hey, sir! Why don’t you crank up the speed?” he tells the booth owner.

“Wow, look at you trying to show off”, you tease in a coo but Jungkook is locked in.

With a serious face he lifts his arm. You instantly pinch his side. No reaction. So you shove him, barely moving him.

He cracks up, lowering his arm.

“Seriously?” his eyes gleam in amusement, running over your face.

“If you can do it, I can.”

“It’s not going to work on me, so keep trying.”

He manages to throw the first ball despite your vigorous attempts of throwing him off balance. The ball lands in the bucket with ease.

“Hah!” He laughs victoriously. “See? Try all you want, you will still lose.”

“Yeah?” You pick up his second ball and throw it on the floor behind the booth so he automatically loses it.

“Hey!”

“That was for making me drop mine.”

“No, that was cheating, you cheated.”

“You cheated first.”

“Urgh, you”, he gets out through a big smile, grasping your waist just once to tug you closer. “You’re making me mad, you”, he rasps, inches away from stealing a kiss. You can smell his sweetened breath, feel the memory of his lips.

“There’s people”, you stop him before he can have you, heart pounding uncontrollably.

“Fuck”, he whispers and breaks away, tugging at the collar of his shirt. “Stop trying to make me mess up. I’m not going to lose.”

You collect yourself as well, trying to act normal.

“Are you sure?” you challenge and shove another ball down on the ground.

Jungkook gasps your name. You snicker, fluttering your lashes innocently.

“Fine. You are asking for it”, he says and picks up his fourth ball. He has to get in all of them to win. His eyes flicker black for just a second. You can count to three and then everything is already over. He scored.

“What just happened?” The booth owner gasps, staring at the dented bucket Jungkook’s aggressive throw caused.

“You cheated. I saw your eyes”, you whine, eyes widened in shock.

“You saw nothing. Sir, my price.”

“Go, take your price. Bloody Hunter, ruins my good bucket”, he grumbles and shoves Jungkook his price over the table. A bigger doll.

“Ha! Mine is bigger than yours.”

“Whatever. You didn’t win fair. You used your powers, I saw it.”

“Aw, are you a sore loser?” he coos, leading you away from the booth by holding your waist and walking backwards.

“No? You just didn’t win fair”, you complain with a chuckle, letting him tug you away.

“Oh and you would have? You threw two of my balls.”

“You tickled me and shoved me.”

Jungkook laughs, “I know, gods I know”, he does a twirl so he is beside you and drapes his arm over your shoulders, pulling you into him, “gods, you. I’m sorry it’s too fun to tease you.”

You let him hold you like this. You have no explanation as to why. Perhaps your guards are already lowered after the dance you shared. Perhaps the “no laws apply here” rule also applies to the laws you and he set for each other. Somehow it feels natural to be held by him.

You give up with a soft chuckle, draping your arm around his waist. It feels natural to hold him like this.

“Whatever. It was just a stupid game.”

“Yeah, right”, he teases and gives you a glance. “But how was it for you? Did you have fun?” he asks, wandering the market streets with a slight bounce in his steps. He is visibly happy.

“I did. I think we should do this more often.”

“What? Get knocked off at carnival booths?”

“No. Have fun like this. You know, dance and play fraudulent carnival games and have stupid competitions. It’s fun.”

You meet his eyes briefly.

“Whatever you want, just tell me. I can provide”, he says in a soft voice, eyes carrying That emotion.

What if you kissed him? Here in public in front of hundreds of people? At a time when the sun is barely beginning to set and night hasn’t come yet? What if you just broke every single rule and kissed him?

You step a little closer. Jungkook reciprocates, eyes flitting to your lips.

You shouldn’t. This is taking it too far.

“So, uhm”, you step out of the hug, scales feeling hot. “Where to next?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath. By the gods, his heart might be the end of him.

“I don’t know, uhm, maybe over there?” he gets out.

“Sounds good. Lead the way.”

You and he walk side by side awkwardly. The previous moment built so much tension between you and him that you can feel it drag after you with each step you take.

“Do I actually owe you a favour?” you ask, hoping that conversation will lighten the mood.

“Hm? Ah that. Obviously. A deal’s a deal”, he says, instantly jumping into teasing mode. It worked.

“What if I refuse to fulfill it?”

“Then, I’m going to take it anyway.”

“Now, I’m scared what the favour will be.”

“Mhm I do not know yet. Maybe I’ll ask you to buy me a nice, new sword. I need stuff to display in my study anyway.”

“A sword? That’s expensive. That’s at least twenty coins.”

“Mh-hm or maybe I’ll ask you to…” He twirls so he is walking in front of you, facing you with playful grin. “...run around naked and serve me breakfast on your chest”, he teases, wiggling his brows.

“Shut up”, you laugh, hitting his chest, “you’re seriously not funny.”

“I’m not? Then why are you laughing? Mhm?”

“I said; shut up. I’m laughing because you are foolish.”

Jungkook snickers and returns to his previous position, giving your back a soft rub.

“Don’t worry, I am not going to ask for something you do not want to do.” You look to the side, trying your very hardest to get your scales to stop flushing. You hate your own mind because it is currently torturing you with thoughts of Jungkook eating breakfast off your chest.

The tent of the herb merchant is closest to the game booths. You have to pass by a group of mimes who currently act out a sword fight. People laugh until their bellies ache, cheering for the two clumsy fighters.

“This is where I got the perfume from”, you tell Jungkook.

“Let’s go in.”

The merchant is currently busy, chatting with other customers. You drag Jungkook to the oil table. He follows with his eyes trying to be everywhere at the same time.

“You have to smell all of these things.”

“Alright. Let me see”, he says, keeping his hand on your lower back.

You test a jasmine oil together. It is floral and feminine. The oil labelled “patchouli” is musky and masculine in contrast. Next you test rose oil.

“This is nice”, Jungkook says, moving his head so he is facing you. His eyes flit up and down your face. “It would smell nice on you.”

You move your head. His lips are so close to yours. By the bloody gods, why do you want to kiss him all the time today? What is wrong with you? What the hells was in this ale?

“Hah”, you let out and break the moment by looking at the oils again. “Maybe, uhm, I should get it.”

Jungkook clears his throat, looking at the oils as well. Thankfully the tent is dark enough that nobody can see his heated cheeks.

“You should”, he says and picks up an oil labelled sandalwood. “This is good.”

“Let me smell too.”

“It’s nice, don’t you think?”

“I do. Gods, this is very nice.” You glance at him. “You should get it.”

“Yes? Would you like it on me?”

“Me? Why me?” You chuckle nervously, tugging on your earlobe to calm yourself.

“Uh…”

Jungkook thankfully gets saved by the merchant. Quite frankly, he had no good excuse.

“I see that you have returned.”

You and he face her.

“I have.”

“And I see that you have brought your lover as well.” She nudges your arm. “Did I promise too much?”

“He isn’t my lover!” “No, we aren’t lovers!”

You and Jungkook call out at the same time, breaking apart.

The merchant studies you, cocking a brow. Soon, she clicks her tongue.

“My deepest apologies then. I must have misunderstood the situation. How may I help you?”

You end up purchasing the rose and sandalwood oils and for some inexplicable reason, the merchant manages to sell you a big bottle of massage oil as well.

Truth be told, you cannot look at Jungkook once you leave the tent, face feeling on fire. He seems to be feeling the same.

Awkwardly, you walk side by side, looking at the market stands without actually looking. The sun sets in the time you do, but the market stays bright. Lanterns, candles and strings of lights illuminate the streets.

You stop at an especially bright string of lights.

“What’s this? How are there so many candles burning at once? And how are they so small?”

“Those are actually called fae lights.”

“Fae lights?”

“Yes. They’re named after the Fae because they invented them. Small pieces of illumite are strung on rope and then hung.”

“Illumite? The glowing mineral?”

“Exactly.”

“I heard of it. It charges with sunlight and glows the entire night. Gods, I never thought that it actually works. This is so beautiful.”

“It is, isn’t it? I saw them here for the first time, a few years ago. I remember that it was the hottest summer day and that I talked…” He glances at you. “Nevermind.”

“It’s alright. We aren’t lovers. You can talk to other women.”

“Yes I guess I can, but it’s not that easy is it?”

“What do you mean?”

He looks at your lips.

“Nothing. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter”, he says and walks off.

You follow him, wanting to hold his arm but deciding not to.

“We are still nothing, aren’t we?” you ask.

“Yes, of course we are.”

“Alright. Well then, where to next?”

Jungkook stops. You stop. A drink stand. Something alcoholic.

“Do you want to have a drink?”

“Fire mead, yes. You should try”, Jungkook says.

“What’s fire mead?”

“Only the best drink ever. It’s sweet and spicy and you cannot taste the alcohol.”

You order a jug each, walking a few meters before finally taking a sip. Jungkook didn’t lie. The drink is sweet and just spiced enough to heat up your insides and most of all, it is delicious.

“And? What do you think?”

“This is amazing, by the gods.”

“Isn’t it? I am glad that you agree.”

“I kind of wish to drink it somewhere we can sit if I’m being honest. My feet are killing me.”

“I have the perfect spot. We have to cross the bridge.”

“You know this market well, don’t you?”

“I do. I love it. This year more than others. I feel so light, as if I’m my own person and not someone following a voice.”

“Maybe because you don’t hate dragons anymore.”

“Yeah, definitely because of this. In the past, I hated that I met free dragons here. I thought how dare they enjoy life when their kind ruined mine. But I don’t think like this anymore. I was a hateful fool.”

“You had your reasons, but it’s good that you realised most of us aren’t how those dragons were.”

He nods his head, “I just hope that one day this little voice in the very back of my head stops telling me to keep killing.”

“So your curse is still present?”

“Sometimes, whenever I see a new dragon or dragonborn.”

“Do you hear them with me?”

“No, only when you make me angry. It says that it told me so, that I finally needed to wake up and fulfill my destiny.”

“Well, that’s comforting.”

“Forgive me”, he says, eyes sad and honest, “I would never listen to it. I don’t know how to shut it up.”

“Oh Jungkook, I want to help you but I don’t know how”, you say, reaching for him.

He meets you in the middle, thumb instinctively rubbing your skin as his fingers close around your hand.

“Just don’t get me angry”, he jokes.

“Haha, very funny”, you say, rolling your eyes. You find yourself laughing a second later, sending him an annoyed look fondly.

He chuckles, “forgive me. You are so easy to tease.”

“Shut up”, you murmur, cheeks and scales feeling heated up.

Jungkook draws just a little closer to you.

The night quiets down as you cross the bridge. The songs of crickets and frogs are louder and the moon becomes your only source of light.

“We are here.”

“Here?”

“Yes. Sit down”, he says and takes off his coat so you can sit on it.

“Thank you.”

The forest is quiet behind you. The market is just opposite side of the lake. Its lights dance in the water together with the stars. High grasses are on each side of the very small dirt bay Jungkook chose to sit by. It is tranquil here. Even the air seems clearer and colder than at the market. Which makes sense because you are so far away from other people.

“Yes, this is nice”, Jungkook says, stretching out his legs.

“It is”, you agree, doing the same.

Very rarely, you hear people leave the market. Some walk silently, while others sing or lull drunkenly and others talk to each other. The reeds hide you from them. The anonymity is nice after living such a busy day.

“This is truly so nice”, you say, enjoying the taste of the mead together with the silence.

“I like that you can really hear the crickets here.”

“Right. I think their songs are wonderful.”

“Yes. Although it can get pretty loud when I’m trying to sleep.”

You chuckle, “right. Although, I like it. When the crickets sing, I know that everything around me is safe. When I lived in the forest, I always used their song to relax. It helped me fall asleep many times.”

“Well, then we can be glad that they exist. Did you like living in the forest?”

“Gods no”, you say and scoff, “it’s scary. I had to look out for wild predators, for monsters and for Hunters. I was constantly exposed to the elements and the amount of times I woke up because massive insects and snakes were crawling up my clothes is criminal.”

“I see. Forgive my question.”

“That’s alright. I look back on it fondly because it made me resilient. It sucked that it happened, but I’m still here. Stronger.”

“You are.”

You and he take a sip of the mead.

“So if you had to rank them. Would you say that the forest is low or high on your list?”

“Maybe in the middle? Your house is definitely first and the convent is definitely last. I hated the streets as well because people spat on me and kicked me all the time and I was only a child. I think the cave was better than the forest though. So maybe it’s third place? Yes, third place.”

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Talk so casually about what happened to you? I didn’t know that people spat on you and kicked you. Yet you talk about it as if it is something normal.”

“Because it is normalised in these lands. I’m dragonborn. My blood, my history, my looks decided that I have to just accept it. If I don’t talk about it casually, I would go insane.”

“I am so sorry.”

“I know. I have known for a while now.” You kiss his cheek. “Thank you for changing.”

“I would do it again. I, I was such a fool, so stupid.” He furrows his brows. “Before I met you, I never talked to your people. I hated all of you and did so much harm. If only I had tried to talk sooner, I could have prevented so much.”

“Plaguing yourself with the what ifs will only drive you mad. You cannot change your past but you can learn from it. And you do. You are learning and bettering yourself, so don’t be too harsh on yourself.”

He nods his head in understanding.

“Besides, I am going to break my own rule here, what if you talked sooner? We never would have met and I would have fallen into the hands of someone truly evil. I would already be the King’s prisoner, tortured and raped or perhaps even dead.”

He scoots closer instinctively, “the king won’t get you.”

“I know”, you say and smile.

He looks at it. You might be really drunk already, but you have started to notice something unfamiliar in his eyes. An emotion you cannot name, which seems to be growing each time he looks at you. This phenomenon has only begun today and it is unexplainable to you. You think that it is a good emotion. One which is honest and which comes very deep from within him.

“I think you still would have changed them”, he says.

“The king?”

“No, the other Hunter.”

“Why do you think so?” you ask in a chuckle.

“Because…that’s what you do. You change people.”

“Oh.” You lower your head. “I see.”

You meet his eyes again. This emotion. It is so strong, glowing brighter than the moonlight. You cup his cheek. His breath hitches because of it and trembles slightly when you run your thumb under his eye.

“Your eyes seem so different today.”

“Different?”

“I think that I can see the curse, but in a good way. There is something so deep and heartfelt glowing in them.”

“Ah”, he lets out and turns his head away. He laughs nervously, rubbing the side of his neck. “No, that’s just the alcohol. I get, like, weird eyes when I’m drunk.”

“I see. You must be really drunk already.”

“I am.”

“Maybe we should stop drinking then. What if you wake up with a headache tomorrow?”

“I’m going to be alright”, he assures you and forces a smile to his lips, “but what about you? How did you like the market?” he asks.

“It was amazing. I didn’t even know that so much magic still exists and all these cultures I had no knowledge about.”

“Yes, the world can still be pretty magical if you think about it.” He relaxes back on his palms. “I go to this market whenever it comes to the forest. It was nice having company this year.”

Your heart does that weird fluttering thing again. You don’t know what it means.

“I’ve never been to this market before. I’m glad that I was.”

“Me too.”

“I liked that there were others like me and that they were free. Do you think that I can be like them one day?”

“I do.”

“I really hope that you’re right. I’m tired of running and hiding and being hated for my blood”, you say and remove the scarf to reveal your scales. The golden edges of them reflect the moonlight in a silvery gleam.

Jungkook thinks that it looks like pure starlight.

“You will be free. I promise.”

You nod your head, before you chuckle.

“What’s so funny?”

“It’s just funny to me that you of all people say that to me. I remember when you kept me tied up and drugged and now you’re the one who will free me.”

“I feel a lot of shame for my past.”

“Don’t be too harsh on yourself. It was just a light-hearted comment of mine”, you say and rest your head on his shoulder.

He puts his arm around your waist and rests his head on yours.

“Maybe, once we freed me of the bounty, I can join the market. Wander through the lands with them, be free. I’m pretty good at making baskets.”

Jungkook chuckles, “you are”, he says, trying his very hardest to ignore the weird feeling of emptiness in his stomach your words brought forth.

“You know, Namjoon and Jimin actually offered me a place in their home.”

“What?”

“Yes, Exiloth. Apparently there is no war there and we aren’t hated and there are supposed to be lots of vineyards and kind people. They said that I could live there.”

“Oh. I see.”

“They are gathering others like me and then we’ll leave by noon tomorrow.”

“What? Tomorrow?”

“Yes. I haven’t decided yet whether to join them or not.”

“Then don’t.”

“What?” You meet his eyes.

“I, I just meant that we still have to free you of the bounty. You can’t just flee. It means that you could never return home.”

“Well, these lands have never been my home anyway so if I could never return, so be it.”

Jungkook seems taken aback, but masks it. He drinks and looks at the lake.

“I see”, he murmurs quietly and for quite some time he is silent.

“Well? Do you think that it’s a bad idea?”

“Of course I do. We didn’t try so hard all these months just for you to become an outlaw. Besides, you don’t even know them and now they are offering you a home? It sounds untrustworthy to me.”

“No, I trust them.”

“Just as you trusted me and then you ended up getting kidnapped.”

“You’re an ass”, you say and turn your shoulder to him.

“You asked for my opinion.”

“Well, you can keep it if it’s only going to be negative. This is my first real chance at freedom and you are shitting on it.”

“I’m not shitting on it. It’s just going so fast and you know nothing of them.”

“And? I knew nothing of you either and look at us now. Friends.”

“Friends?”

“I meant…whatever, you know what I meant. Strangers and acquaintances of forced proximity or whatever.”

“Right.”

You glance over your shoulder, meeting his eyes. The moon illuminates his features.

Friends.

“I don’t want to fight”, you confess.

“Me neither, not tonight. Lets just…think about it more.”

“Fine, we’ll think about it more. But only if I have your word that you will respect my decision once I make it. No matter what it is.”

Jungkook sighs in defeat, “fine, I guess I have to.”

You turn to him, giving him a coy smile. He retorts it just a little hesitantly, eyes glued to your lips.

Friends. The word haunts the silence. Friends.

“I have something I want to tell you”, he says and sits up.

“Tell me”, you say, stomach tight in nervousness.

“Xenia knows a lot about our history and so I asked her about your mother.”

This is not what you had thought – hoped – he would say.

“My mother?” you ask.

“Well, not directly, I simply asked. Alright listen. It isn’t your fault that she died.”

“What?”

“Human women do not have to die giving birth to dragon babies. Your heritage didn’t kill her, an unsafe birth did.”

“What do you mean?”

“I asked her if your mother died because you are half dragon, but it wasn’t because of this. The nuns merely didn’t help her enough.”

“I…didn’t kill my mother?”

“Are those happy tears?”

“I don’t know. This isn’t what I expected you to say and now it is suddenly a lot to handle.”

“I understand. You’re alright”, he says and cups your cheek to wipe your tears.

“Hold me”, you choke out and sob, falling into his chest.

“Hey there, hey. Shit, I feel like I just did more damage than good.”

“No, I’m so relieved. And sad. And happy. And, and angry. At the nuns and my father. They killed my mother.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry”, Jungkook whispers, holding you safely.

“And at you. Why would you tell me this?”

“I’m sorry I thought that you should know.”

“Well”, you sniffle, “I thought that you would say something else.”

“What did you want me to say?”

“Doesn’t matter”, you say and hug him tighter, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

Jungkook allows it to happen, closing his eyes.

“I didn’t kill my mother”, you get out and laugh as much as you sob, “I didn’t kill her.”

“You didn’t”, he whispers, holding you safely as you have this very emotional moment. And perhaps he holds you a little longer than he needs to, basking in the scent of you and the pressure of your hug.

He definitely holds you longer than he needs to.

“Jungkook?” you murmur, having long stopped crying.

“Yes?”

“Will you hold me all night?”

“If you wish me to.”

“No, I meant”, you snicker, “you can let go now.”

“Oh. Forgive me.”

“It’s alright.”

You stay close to him, studying his face while he studies yours. Your arm brushes against him every now and then.

“Thank you.”

“Of course. I hope that it can give you peace.”

“It does.”

He lowers his eyes, laughing breathily.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. Just. I’m really drunk.” He meets your eyes. There it is again, this emotion. “Would you push me away if I kissed you?”

You shake your head. Jungkook cups your cheek and meets you in the middle. He went into this kiss blindly, while you closed your eyes the moment your lips touched. Seeing how easy it was for him to find you, somehow makes this kiss so sweet.

It is night already, so this is allowed.

And it lasts way too short for your taste. He is the one to break it, holding you under your chin and looking at your lips.

“Do you have to go with them? Can’t we talk about it more? What if you found another way to leave? Later?” he asks.

“Do you not like this idea?”

“It’s so soon. What if they are dangerous? Just because they are your people, doesn’t mean that they are good people.”

“Is this what bothers you?”

“It’s so soon. You know nothing of them.”

You sit back, forcing his hand to slip from your face. You inhale and exhale deeply.

“I think I need more fire mead if we are having this conversation.”

“Of course. I will get it.” He stands up. “You’ll still be here when I return?”

“Of course. I’m not leaving this place, it’s so beautiful. Although give me a warning when you come back, there is the possibility that I will relieve myself in the reeds. My bladder is killing me.”

“I really didn’t need to know that”, he laughs.

“Well, now you do”, you laugh.

“Gods, you.”

He leaves the little bay with a hearty chuckle on his lips.

The walk back to the mead booth is peaceful. Jungkook can feel the night air on his skin and can take in the beauty of fireflies as they fly past him. The summer is especially nice this year, he thinks, that even he is able to notice the little things.

He feels like greeting strangers when he passes them and smiles at the person who prepares the mead for him. He cannot wait to return to the lake and to you.

His steps are quicker on his way back. He has been gone for a while because he walked slowly and he doesn’t want to keep you waiting any longer. There is a little, exciting thought circulating in his head ever since the merchant sold you the massage oil. He could kiss you hidden in the reeds until your body begs for more.

Jungkook smiles, chest beginning to tighten in excitement when he reaches the small bay. His coat is still there but you are gone. So you are really peeing. Just like you had said.

“___, this is my warning. I am back”, he says.

You give him no answer.

“___, hey I’m back.”

Nothing. Not even the sound of peeing.

“Answer me at least, you tease.”

Silence. Jungkook furrows his brow. This feels weird.

“___, hey”, he tries and rounds the grasses even at the risk of disturbing you. The spot behind them is empty.

“___!?” he calls out, twisting and turning in search of you.

The lake is empty. The forest is empty as well. Jungkook tries not to panic, but panics.

“Fucking hells. ___, where are you?!”

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vylosinbound · 3 days ago

Text

Too sweet for words

MC gets emotional when words hit just right.

Part two

Characters: Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon, Simeon, Raphael, Thirteen, Mephistopheles.

Genre: Fluff / Light Comfort

MC tends to get visibly emotional, whenever someone says something truly heartfelt or sweet to them. The side characters begin to notice, and their reactions vary… from teasing, to affectionate, to downright protective.

DIAVOLO

He’s laughing with you about something ridiculous when he pauses, eyes softening. “You really bring light into this realm, you know that? I think… the Devildom’s a better place because of you.”

You blink up at him, trying to keep your smile steady, but the warmth in his voice and the weight of his words hit like a wave. Your eyes shine almost instantly.

“Are you, are those tears?” he asks, startled but endeared. “Oh no, did I go too far?” You shake your head with a laugh that’s half-sigh, and he just pulls you into a bear hug. “I’ll tone it down,” he whispers. “Or maybe I won’t. You’re adorable like this.”

BARBATOS

The butler sets down a freshly brewed cup of your favorite tea. “I remembered how much you liked this blend from last week,” he says, voice smooth like the drink he offers. “And I must say… Your presence is a rare kind of peace, even in a timeless castle like this.”

Your lips tremble in a smile, and when your gaze lowers with emotion, Barbatos tilts his head.

“Ah, I see,” he muses. “You’re the kind of person who truly feels. That is… remarkable.” He gently dabs beneath your eye with a silk handkerchief. “Shall I continue, or would it be too dangerous?”

SOLOMON

“You know,” he says, nonchalantly leaning against the table, “for all the magic I’ve seen, nothing surprises me quite like you. You make immortality seem… less lonely.”

You glance at him, heart fluttering, and your face betrays it all. The emotion rises before you can stop it.

“Oh,” he chuckles, nudging your chin up. “Got you, didn’t I? Caught you right in the feels.” You roll your eyes with a smile, wiping the corners of your eyes. “I should say nice things to you more often. For science, obviously.”

SIMEON

He’s always gentle, but today he reaches out, taking your hand. “You have a gift… You listen like every word matters, and you care with your whole heart. The Celestial Realm could learn something from you.”

It’s said with such honest reverence that your breath catches, and your lashes flutter with the effort of holding it in.

Simeon just smiles warmly. “You don’t have to hide those feelings,” he whispers. “They’re what make you radiant.”

RAPHAEL

He doesn’t usually say things outright, not like the others, but this time, his voice is quiet. “It’s rare… to meet someone who makes me reconsider the way I see the world. But you do.”

Your throat tightens. The sincerity behind his normally stoic facade cuts deeper than expected.

“You’re doing it again,” he murmurs, noticing the shimmer in your gaze. “The soft eyes thing.” You lightly elbow him, and he gives the smallest smirk. “I’ll be careful next time. Or not.”

THIRTEEN

“You’re like… stupidly good, you know?” she says, arms crossed. “Like, disgustingly sweet. And sometimes I wonder how someone like you even likes hanging out with someone like me.”

You try to reply, but emotion chokes the words. Thirteen squints.

“Are you crying?? Omg, wait, no, don’t do that! I didn’t mean to make you sad!” You reassure her with a watery laugh. “Ugh, you’re such a softie. Okay fine, I’ll hug you. But only this once! …Or maybe twice.”

MEPHISTO

He rolls his eyes mid-conversation. “You’re infuriatingly likable, you know. And somehow, I don't even mind it. You… brighten rooms. I hate that it’s true.”

He scoffs as you turn away, blinking fast.

“Are you tearing up right now?” You nod a little, flustered. “Oh great. Now I feel bad for saying something genuine.” He hands you a silk pocket square with a grumble. “Here. And don’t tell anyone I made you cry. It’ll ruin my reputation.”

@scr0lling4days0nend

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cherry-flavoured-thot · 2 days ago

Text

✩ Haha Just Kidding... Unless? ✩

✩ One Piece ✩

✩ When a joke about being a couple gets a little serious ✩

✩ Characters: Ace, Sanji, Robin ✩

☽ ◦ ◦ ◦ ✩ ❤ ✩ ◦ ◦ ◦ ☾

Frankly, you and Ace flirt enough that most people probably assume you're already together. It's playful though, nothing too serious, or so you both keep saying. Even when other people bring up the idea of you two being together.

"I don't think the world could handle if we became a couple." Ace voices with a laugh that's a bright as the flames he uses to fight with.

"I don't even think you could handle us being a couple." You retort with a grin that he just matches with one of his own.

"I think I can handle you just fine." Does the way he says handle make your heart thrum and body feel warm? Yes, very much so.

"Mhm a lot of talk but not a lot of action." And you try to brush it off with another joke. But as silence settles between you the feeling doesn't go away. It hasn't for sometime now, always lingering around the corner making itself known as the game starts again. "Could we?" You ask aloud.

"Could we what...?" He repeats back.

"Be a couple?" Your question brings him pause. Turning slightly red before he replies.

"I mean yeah we could. It's not like the world would actually implode if we did." He laughs nervously at his own joke. Eased ever so slightly by seeing you smile. "Do you want to?"

"Maybe a little..." he dramatically brings a hand up to clutch his chest.

"Only a little? With all the flirting we've done together?" You huff but still respond.

"Okay maybe a lot. What about you?"

"More than anything." He shoots you a wide smile that has your heart beating faster than before. How could you possibly resist?

☽ ◦ ◦ ◦ ✩ ❤ ✩ ◦ ◦ ◦ ☾

Do you mess with Sanji sometimes just to watch him react? Yes. There was an occasion where you asked him to help with the zipper at the back of your clothes, only to note how his hands were shaking and breathing heavy as he pulled the zipper up. And knowing this is how he reacted did you ask him to undo the zip later? Yes.

There's other things you do, but he hasn't exactly asked you stop any of them. In fact you've found he's been hovering around you more since you started. So it's not too improbable to assume he actually likes when you do that.

It's all harmless for the most part. No real intent behind it, at least that's what you keep telling yourself.

You and Sanji are alone in the kitchen, he's made you some snacks that he's put down in front of you. Only for you to grin at him. "You should feed me Sanji." He goes completely red, but doesn't back down.

"It would be my pleasure!" Before you know it he's pulled up a chair beside you. "Please say 'ah' for me." You find yourself hesitating at his sudden earnestness, but given that it was your own fault you got into this situation do as he asks.

It's as he's put a biteful in your mouth, Usopp walks in. Jaw dropping at the sight in front of him.

"...I didn't realise you two were together like that..." you don't even have a reply, scrambling to find something to say. Sanji rises from his seat, glaring at the new presence in the room.

"Usopp you're ruining the moment, get out!" Usopp puts his hands up defensively before exiting. You two are both silent, before Sanji speaks. "...I didn't really help our case there, did I? I can go get him and-" you cut him short.

"What don't want people to think we're together?" You joke.

"Nothing would make me happier than people thinking that I was lucky enough to get with someone as beautiful as yourself." You feel flustered at hearing the cook's honest words.

"Don't sell yourself short, I'd be pretty lucky to be with someone like you too." The silence comes back, neither of you looking at one another.

"...you could be. In a heartbeat." He eventually says. "No pressure of course!" He quickly adds.

"Only if you finish feeding me my snack." You reply with a laugh. He's sitting back next to you in a flash, another fork full of food ready to eat.

☽ ◦ ◦ ◦ ✩ ❤ ✩ ◦ ◦ ◦ ☾

Robin invites you to go shopping with her, an offer that you happily accept, you don't think much about it until you catch Nami giving you a sly smile. As you're getting ready to leave the ship. "What?" Your cluelessness seems to cause her to smile wider.

"Oh nothing just interesting that you and Robin are going shopping alone..." you tilt your head at her words.

"You and Robin go shopping alone all the time," Nami sighs at that.

"Yeah but Robin doesn't also offer to give me massages when I complain about neck pain or lets me use her shoulder as a head rest when I'm tired." She does have a point, Robin has done both of those things for you on several occasions.

"She's just being nice?" You attempt to justify.

"Oh come on you don't even seem to believe that!" She shouts her reply. But when she sees how her words don't seem to be getting through to you, shakes her head with a loud sigh.

You don't really worry about the interaction any further as Robin appears moments later and you both head into town to do some shopping. She looks at clothes and asks for your opinions, to which you smile telling her she'd look great in them.

When she purchases the items, you carry the bags on her behalf. You also notice items in there that she hadn't shown you.

"They're things I think would like nice on you." She explains with a small smile seeing you gazing at the items.

"You didn't need to get me anything!"

"If I told you it's more for my enjoyment for you to wear these clothes would it bother you as much?" Your brow furrows as you attempt to interpret her words.

"What do you mean?" Her attention turns to another store.

"Oh look another sale." And off she goes without giving you a straight answer. You follow behind her, deciding not to dwell on it.

At the end of the day you're both having a seat together before returning back to the ship. You yawn, slightly exhausted and she offers you her shoulder. You lean your head against her as an acceptance of her offer.

"We probably look like a couple right now." You joke thinking back to Nami earlier. She laughs.

"Well I'd hope so, given how much I like you." You sit up straight at her reply.

"Huh?"

"You're lucky I find your cluelessness endearing." While you're happy to hear her words, you just hope Nami doesn't spend the rest of your days going 'I told you so.'

#my writing tag #one piece #ace #portgas d ace #ace op #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #nico robin #robin #one piece x reader #ace x reader #sanji x reader #robin x reader

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m-robinavitch · 18 hours ago

Note

❛ i want you like you used to have me. like we had nothing else to live for. ❜ & Pope

we’re doing Thirsty Thursday Freak Nasty Friday this week with these prompts. send me a prompt and a character and I’ll write a little blurb.

Andrew “Pope” Cody x Reader

feels like it should be a continuation of this

Andrew had this look on his face- soft and pleading with you to let him in. In the door or in your heart again? You’re not sure but it was working. Maybe it was the rain pounding on the roof- the way he was soaking wet and shaking just a little bit, although his eyes were wet with tears. He tried to stay away. Andrew fought with himself the entire walk to your house, not caring about the rain or thinking if you even wanted to see him.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fucking fair because he was the one who would push you away. Andrew was the one who stopped answering you- who dropped off the face of the earth for months because it was the only way you’d leave him. He had to force you away because he was too fucking weak to stay away. Even now, standing outside your door while your husband was away on some business trip. Andrew would never leave you if you weren’t fully his. He would never let you spend a moment alone.

“Just let me in, one more time. Please.” You don’t step back when he gets closer to you, standing on the porch shielded from the rain- watching as Andrew drops to his knees in front of you. He can’t stop himself. He pushed you into another man’s arms and yet he still needed you more than he needed air- wrapping his arms around your thighs and pressing his cheek into your stomach. “I want you like you used to have me. Like we had nothing else to live for- just each other.” You sighed- working off of muscle memory alone because you run your fingers through his hair when he looks up at you with those hazel eyes that you never learned how to say goodbye to. You nod- smiling a little when he sighs in relief and with those strong arms tightening around your thighs he stands and wraps them around his waist to carry you back into the house and slam the door behind him.

It was instinct, how your hands worked to shove his jacket off his shoulders and peel the wet shirt from his body while he walked through your house- already knowing the way to your bed. The bed you shared with another man. The bed you would also have Andrew in. You barely had his pants past his thighs when he dropped you onto the bed- shoving your underwear and flimsy sleep shorts to the side before easily sliding into your aching heat. You were already wet. It was like your body knew he was coming. The desperation in his thrusts told you how much he needed this- uncoordinated movements with shaky breathing mixed together with the needy way his lips and tongue moved along with your own. It was perfect.

Your thighs started to shake- the force of his hips into your own made you whine his name because each thrust slid you both higher up the bed until Andrew used the headboard to brace himself and slow his movements into your cunt. You’d be embarrassed by the sound of the headboard knocking into the wall if you weren’t already cumming around his cock- wet obscene noises making the slide of his thick length along your gummy walls so much easier.

“I love you- fuck I love you.” You repeated in his ear- over and over like a prayer for him because you did. You never stopped. And Andrew nodded into your neck- begging you to keep repeating the words because they went straight from his heart to his cock and before he could pull out he was spilling every drop of himself inside you with a choked off groan.

#thirsty thursday #freak nasty Friday #my random typings #Andrew Cody #andrew cody x reader #andrew cody x you #andrew pope cody #andrew pope cody x reader #andrew pope cody x you #pope Cody #pope cody x reader #pope cody x you

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starship21zedna9 · 2 days ago

Text

Things About A Space Adventure Hour

Okay, I have been neutral on Paul Wesley so far but he was hilarious in this episode. He was having the time of his life doing his Shatner impression. I'm slightly more endeared to him now.

DRAG SHATNER! DRAG HIM! I may love Jim Kirk but I do not love William Shatner. I pretty much take anything that comes out of his mouth as a lie unless someone else corroborates.

Uhotty interaction. I've never believed that people actually ship those two. It's more of a pair the spares situation. Especially in AOS. You all just wanted them together so she would be out of the way for Spirk. But, on the chance anyone does genuinely ship them, this episode should make you happy.

Celia looked amazing in this episode. Both as Uhura and as Joni Gloss.

Una's hair is back down! Thank Surak, the prophets, etc. etc.

I love seeing La'an enjoying life. She's suffered enough. Let the woman have some fun.

Love that they let Jess use her natural accent in the holodeck.

So. Much. Meta. I particularly liked this exchange with Jess' character, Adalaide. 'I'm good at what I do!' 'Yet all anyone wants to talk about is your love life.' That had to be a comment on Chapel and how she's in the center of so many of the romance stories.

Spock/La'an. Well, I thought they would tease it more before they just went for it. But, maybe they want it to be different than the constant instability of Spock/Chapel.

Kind of proud of both of them for shooting their shot with each other after they both got thoroughly rejected by their previous love interests.

I miss Pelia. I'm not liking Scotty just taking her place. Give her back to me, please.

I like the murder mystery until the resolution. It wasn't a bad conclusion. It was just anti-climactic. She should have had her revelation in front of all the other characters. That's how these things are supposed to work.

I liked that they took advantage of Jess and Babs' chemistry by making them a couple in the holodeck but they should have kissed at least once. Come on!

One more thing. The fake bloopers at the end? Absolute perfection.

I lied. One more one more thing. Where the hell was Spock during the 'we're all gonna die' situation? I know there was the twist with him being a hologram in the program so they wouldn't show the real Spock and ruin it. But, it seems like he should have been there during a red alert. But, I guess he was too busy dancing the tango by himself.

#star trek #snw #star trek spoilers #strange new worlds #a space adventure hour #la'an noonien singh #paul wesley #celia rose gooding #ethan peck #montomgery scott #nyota uhura #christina chong #spock #Uhotty #spocklaan #jess bush #james t kirk

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loveeruri · 2 days ago

Note

can yoo make a prt 3 to the pervy men with Nagi’s story a little more in detail or like the bf and her break up and she geos to nagi ykwim🙏🙏

its okay if not !! great story btw loved it sm

definitely:) thanks sm for the request, i'm starting to love this series! part 4 is gonna have new characters, maybe with sae, kaiser, ness and some others.

pervy childhoodbsf!bllkmen and their crush on you part 3

part 1 here ♡ part 2 here ♡ part 4 here

!! mdni, nsfw, pervy bllk!men, f!reader, aged up characters, reader has a boyfriend, cheating, toxic relationships, reader leaves bf for nagi.

nagi's brain talks to him. four hours now? what could she possibly be doing? ever since we were younger, she's always taken a while to respond to texts. even more so, now that she's always hanging out with that dude she's dating. "that dude" that doesn't even treat her right. i should be the one-

bing. a message interrupts his racing thoughts.

it's you. asking him if he's free to talk.

i mean, he's not doing much else. just been waiting around for you.

nagi types out "yeah" and picks up your call.

"hey." nagi utters, his chest beating excitedly.

"hey" your vocals sounding pained, "you think i could come over again tonight?"

"yeah you can" he hesitates touching his cock to your voice, "why? what's up?"

"well, i kinda fucked up and told my boyfriend about what we did and he yelled at me" your words shaking as they come out of your throat, "i'm so sorry sei."

"it's okay don't apol-"

"i mean he was just asking so many questions, i couldn't lie to him! i'm not a liar."

"all we did was makeout, he'll get over it." he tries to reason.

"that's cheating sei! fuck i- ... i'll just see you in a few okay?"

"sure see-" the call ends before he could mutter "you."

now he's awaiting you once again.

how dare that pig shout at my precious girl. what is his problem? .....her voice made me hard...... i could just jerk off right now- no, she lives too close......maybe if i do it quick?....nah... plus, it would be a hassle to clean. nagi is thinking.

he wants to tidy the place for you, but he's not in the mood. you don't care about that though, you're the only girl in his life who never minded. the only girl in his life, period.

he imagines that if he were to, he'd put charming little candles around the room to flicker and dance. your favorite scents. he'd have the lights low and maybe cook you something tasty, displayed on the kitchen table.

he dreams about giving you anything you ask for, spoiling you and milking his bank account for all its got.

he knows he'd fuck you way better than that fool. he's obsessed with the way he'd just fold you, lick you, caress you and pound you into next month. he would make love to you as if he was put on this earth to solely do just that.

seishiro would never yell at you.

you could burn his entire house down and he'd only look at you like he's underneath the wedding arch on your big day.

yeah he rubs his dick to the thought of you, yeah he watches your soft ass when you grab something off the floor, yeah he's a little touch starved, and maybe he's a bit gross with his words, but he values you. he's always desired you. made you feel desired.

once you've entered his home and settled down on his comfy couch beside him, you decide to end the speechlessness.

"thank you for this sei." you nuzzle your head onto his shoulder.

"mhm." he's still bricked, which explains why he has a fluffy cushion sitting atop his lap.

"you've always been there for me." you lift upwards to observe his features that are already lustfully staring at you.

he glances into your unique eyes, down to your plush lips, then back up.

i wanna dry hump this fucking pillow so badly.

"you look pretty." he spouts out.

the panic abandons your body for a second with his kind compliment.

"sei..."

"yeah?"

"kiss me."

he pauses but does so. the white-haired man brings his mouth onto yours gently, very gently, with wet smooch sounds following soon after. his veiny hands move towards your thigh, resting there as he escalates it to a french kiss a bit too quickly with sex clouding his thoughts.

he stops himself, with his nose inches away from yours.

"leave him" he quietly demands, "i wanna watch you do it."

"already did" you whisper, "called him on the way here and told him it's over."

"yeah?" his eyes gain life as if they've been dull this whole time.

"mhmm" you hold the side of his pale cheek with your palm, "i'd rather be with you."

#seishiro nagi #seishiro nagi x reader #seishiro nagi smut #smut #x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock #bllk #nagi x reader #nagi smut #bllk smut #bllk x reader #bllk x you #nagi bllk #fanfiction #anime x reader

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fantennaspam · 1 day ago

Text

Spamton's journey truly is a fascinating one to pick apart. Especially with the context given to us by multiple other characters. Spamton an Addison in the for of SPAM emails, who was unable to make sales unlike his other bretherin. And we can only speculate not only how both parties felt in that situation, but how they acted. Spamton would always keep telling them how he was going to be a big shot. Despite his constant failings, he never let go of his aspirations.

Even after each failure he kept trying again and again. I'd like to hope the other Addisons supported him, but I'm not certain if they ever believed in him. Did they try to be supportive? Did they laugh off his claims? Joke about Spamton behind his back when they thought he wasn't listening? Was Spamton happy for their successes or was some part of him bitter and resentful?

At the end of each day did he agonize over what he was doing wrong? What he could do better? Why did nothing he did ever work? Wasn't he an Addsion too? Didn't he also deserve some recognition? What was he doing wrong? Why won't people pay attention? Why won't anyone notice him?

And then he got the phone call that changed his life forever. Someone who was whispering advice in his ear and it worked without fail. His dreams and his visions quickly became reality. But rather than be happy for Spamton's success the other Addisons distanced themselves from him. Maybe slowly over time. Maybe because they hated that this shrimpy Addison who once had nothing to show for his efforts suddenly had more than any of them had. Maybe it was because they knew or suspected he wasn't working alone.

Whenever the phone rang, Spamton was always the first to answer it. Spamton never missed a phone call. Never mind that none of them could ever understand what was being said.

Did any of them try to get in on his secrets to success? I can't imagine they wouldn't have at asked him at least once. And of course he wouldn't share his secret. He probably wasn't allowed to, and why the hell should he anyway? They were the ones who mocked him, who thought he wouldn't amount to anything. Who gave him smiles of encouragement to his face while sniggering behind his back. Their smiles of pity, their smiles as they humored and indulged his aspirations, their stupid, patronizing smiles as they looked down on him in every sense of the term. They were seared in his mind like the afterimages of bright headlights behind his eyelids.

He still never missed a phone call. He rarely ever let it get past the second ring.

But he certainly wouldn't be afraid to show off just how successful he was. Probably paying for everyone's meals whenever they all went out. 'My treat,' he would say. They used to take turns but suddenly it was always his treat. At what point did they get fed up? Did they all leave at once in a big blow out? Or did people just stop coming to his hangouts, one by one until it was just him sitting in the restaurant drinking alone?

At least he still had his phone calls. He hasn't missed a single one.

Maybe that's when he decided to move out of Cyber City proper and into Queen's mansion. He began schmoozing with the best of the best. The cream of the crop. The specially chosen. Maybe that's when he decide, maybe I'm not an Addison. Maybe I could be something better. Something more. After all, the others didn't have ambitions like him. Not really. Unlike them, he was willing to do whatever it takes to make it big. He had what it took to take a risk, to go where none of them dared or aspired to. They were all happy to stay in their lanes. Him... he would rule the whole goddamn highway.

His phone calls always came first though. Always.

Maybe that's when Spamton decided to change up his looks, to set himself apart. After all, to be a big shot, one needed to stand out. Maybe that's around the time that laptop ended up at the Dreemurr house and Spamton met Tenna.

Both men had what the other needed, wanted. Tenna could help Spamton gain even more recognition. He would be bigger. Better. His name and his products for all the world to see in every home with a TV. And Spamton had what Tenna wanted, the chance to stay relevant. To keep up with the times. To plug in and make it BIG.

As long as Tenna respected the fact that Spamton had to be there for his phone calls. No exceptions.

Both of them are men with high aspirations. And I can imagine how in sync the two would probably feel in working together. The many late night hours of organizing and planning. Plans for the future. Plans of a partnership that would take them both to incredible height they'd only dreamed about. I could imagine Tenna telling Spamton that he has what it takes to be a star, a face that everyone recognizes and adores. I could see him even meaning it.

I can imagine Spamton feeling seen for the first time. Finally there was someone who actually believed in him. Who didn't laugh at him for having lofty dreams, but laughed with him as they toasted to their glorious future. I can see the two exchanging advice after hours, sharing stories, tips and tricks that have helped them along. Tenna is open, wanting this collaboration to work. Spamton is more careful about what he shares. When he shares it. But he is enticed by what Tenna is promising as the two grow closer and more familiar.

At some point, maybe Spamton is practicing his magic, and he creates a pipis. And maybe Tenna walked in at that moment and started asking questions. And maybe Spamton got embarrassed and told Tenna it was a gift for him, since the partnership has been going so well. Tenna, being a sentimental family man, is touched. Even though he isn't certain exactly what it is, he cherishes it. Keeps it hidden and guarded.

Despite all the extra work, Spamton made the phone calls his priority. Any of Tenna's people that just happened to be wandering by could never quite figure out what was being discussed. Sorry boss.

After so much planning, schmoozing, collaborating, after so much time spent working together, Tena implores Spamton to share his secrets. He promises his fame. His face everywhere. Everyone would see his adds. He would get so much more business. All he had to do was just tell him what it took to be a big shot. Maybe the promise of fame got the better of Spamton. Maybe he genuinely felt a connection with Tenna. Maybe he just wanted to succeed. Whatever the case, it was enough for Spamton to overplay his hand.

Maybe he upset his benefactor, or maybe Spamton did everything right and his part to play was simply over. But he couldn't be allowed to run around speaking his benefactor's secrets. Suddenly Spamton's voice was no longer his. His body was no longer his. His will was no long his. He turned from a real success to a puppet on strings, because that's what he'd been all along. Whatever he did, his benefactor, his angel, his friend, was no longer looking out for him. And in reaction, Spamton ran away.

So quickly he had risen, only to plummet ruthlessly to rock bottom just as fast. Maybe even faster. He lost it all. His business, his profits, his place in Queen's castle. When he desperately tried to explain his situation, his words are censored. Replays of advertisements play in wake of his true thoughts, mocking him and robbing him of agency in one fell swoop. He could no longer reach Tenna, and his former friends, the Addisons, were no where to be found. He was alone. Utterly and completely alone.

The phone didn't ring anymore. Even though he waited. And waited... and waited... Sometimes he would imagine it ringing. Sometimes he would wake up hearing it. He would answer. But no one answered back. Nobody came.

But when had failure ever stopped Spamton? He'd heard stories about something incredible hidden away in Queen's mansion. He broke it, attempting to disguise himself as Swatch, the head butler. He found the means to get what he was after, but got caught before he could carry out his plans. Possibly taking a swim in the acid river for his troubles. Security increased from there. But he bides his time, spending his nights in various dumpsters, huddled under trash bags and newspapers. He never stopped trying.

And then along comes Kris...

#spamton g spamton #tenna deltarune #deltarune #mr ant tenna #mr tenna #spamtenna #spamton addison #spamton deltarune #ant tenna #swatch deltarune #queen deltarune #kris dreemurr #ramblings #this is all pure speculation on my part

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selfloverrrrrr · 1 day ago

Note

Nanami x reader

- secretly dating

Going camping with geto gojo shoko

-getting caught doing the nasty by gojo..cuz we wanted to do a quicky while the others went to collect wood and gojo forgot the axe to chop wood and he started hearing moans and then he found us etc

Comedy

NOT AGAIN!

Warnings : fluff, comedy, smut , biting, size difference, protective, obsessive.

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Minors Do Not Interact

Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

Y/n's pov

It all started with a totally innocent group camping trip. Geto claimed everyone needed a break. Shoko wanted booze and trees. Gojo just wanted to show off that he could make a fire without Jujutsu. (He couldn’t.) And Nanami… well, he didn’t want to come. But I had to request him badlyyyy. So, here we were. In the middle of a forest, surrounded by bugs, with a secret relationship that had lasted almost a year without the others finding out. No one knew. Who? Me and Nanami.

Yes. Mr. Stoic. Mr. Clock-in-clock-out. Mr. “This is not overtime.” That Nanami. And I don’t know how we managed to keep it quiet for this long, but somehow we did. Maybe because he always looked so annoyed all the time that no one assumed he was capable of... romance. And me? I was a damn good liar when I needed to be. Anyway... The camping trip was supposed to be a two-day escape from sorcery, curses, and civilization. There were tents, a campfire pit, a portable speaker, and a cooler that Shoko insisted was more important than her luggage.

The first night went...surprisingly okay. Except for the part where Gojo tried to summon a fire spirit with two sticks and a rock while his boyfriend, Geto just rolled his eyes and lit it with a lighter. Yeah they were dating. Officially. The tent was huge. Like a house. Day two.... It was supposed to be chill. Shoko woke up at 11 a.m., wrapped in a blanket burrito, sunglasses already on, sipping from a suspicious flask. Geto was sprawled on a log, swatting mosquitoes like he was being paid for it. And Gojo… well, Gojo decided to take charge. “Okay campers!” he announced like he was hosting some twisted nature reality show. “We need wood. Not just any wood. The manliest, most choppable, axe-worthy logs this forest has to offer.”

“Wow,” Shoko deadpanned. “That sounded deeply sexual.” she said. Geto chuckled. “Everything sounds sexual when you say it with Satoru’s face.” he replied. “Thank you,” Gojo bowed. “Now—Nanami, Y/N, you two stay back and guard the base. Try not to die of boredom without me.” he said. "Can you please get out now?" Nanami said. Gojo pouted dramatically like he’d just been evicted from his own game show. “Fine, fine. But if a squirrel steals the marshmallows while I’m gone, that’s on you two.” He grabbed the axe, sunglasses, and Geto’s ass all in one swoop, then marched off into the woods with the grace of a man who definitely didn't know what he was doing.

As soon as the sounds of leaves crunching and Gojo's voice faded into the distance, I turned toward Nanami. He was already rolling out the sleeping bag. "You look... Hot. Even when you just woke up" I said. He stood up. So did I. "That’s not how you compliment someone in the forest," Nanami said, raising an eyebrow. "You should say I’m bear-resistant or I smell like cedarwood and competence.” he said. I grinned and leaned against the side of the tent. “Okay, fine. You look like you could chop wood with one hand and read Nietzsche with the other. Happy?” I asked. He looked at me for a long second. “Almost.” he replied.

Before I could ask what would make him fully happy, he walked over, cupped the back of my neck with one of those warm, big hands, and kissed me. Deeply. The kind of kiss that made me forget we were supposed to be guarding the base and not defiling the tent. It started slow. His lips moved against mine like we had all the time in the world. But we didn’t. Which made it worse. Or better. I tugged at his shirt, and he didn’t even hesitate. My back hit a table. He made me sit on the table.

He stood between my legs. His lips never once left mine. His hands slipped under my shirt, fingers dragging up my spine so slowly it made me shiver. "Nanami," I whispered, breathless. His mouth trailing down my neck. “We have ten minutes,” he said against my collarbone. “Seven if they realize Gojo doesn’t know how to swing an axe.” I replied. His lips twitched. “Then I’ll be efficient.” he said. I laughed—tried to, at least—but it came out more like a broken moan when he pushed me back onto the table and dragged my shorts halfway down in one practiced motion. The way his hands moved like he was calculating every second, every angle God, it was unfair. How could a man this logical also be this good at! “Focus,” he murmured like he was reading my thoughts. “I am focused—on you, Einstein.” I replied. “Nietzsche,” he corrected, smirking slightly before ducking down to kiss a trail along my hip. I definitely gasped. I clutched the edge of the table like my life depended on it.

I looked down. He unzipped his pants. He leaned over, kissed me again, this time slower. Hotter. Deeper. The kind of kiss. I felt him sliding my panties aside. Then I felt the tip of his dick rubbing on my clit. I gasped. "God. I need you bad. Can't take it anymore" He said then both looked down. My pussy clenched around nothing. He lined his dick on it. He was about to push in.

*zip*

The tent opened. I whipped my head toward the tent flap, panting, skin flushed, shorts halfway off, panties shoved to the side, Nanami’s dick literally hovering at the gates of heaven. And there stood Gojo Satoru. Holding an axe. Looking way too smug. “…Well,” he said, blinking slowly behind his sunglasses. “This is not what I expected when I came back for the axe I forgot, but I am impressed.” he said. And did he just took a picture?! And run out yelling "I've to show them. " Gojo–wait " Nanami said and ran following Gojo struggle to put on his pants.he ran behind Gojo clutching his pants with one hand. Yeah Gojo Satoru is once again success to piss off Nanami Kento.

Give me your requests guys...

I love when you give me your requests 💗

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mullermilkshake · 2 days ago

Text

Coffee and a chat

Part 1 <- Part 2 -> Part 3

Satoru gets some interesting information dropped right in his lap.

Serial Killer!Satoru Gojo x Fem! Police officer!reader Tags - Implied corruption, Derogatory names (bitch), implied kinks (degradation, masochism), Side character,

<<< For more Satoru content, click this link to go back to the Masterlist! >>>

<<< Or this fics Masterlist >>> (Refer for master tag list it'll be constantly updated and changing)

Art work by @/FCKG0JO on twitter (Can't find the specific tweet, so if anyone does, please let me know so I can credit this fully. I couldn't find specifics) - Picture on right - Divider by @/diviniyae

Watching you speak about Satoru the way you did, just intrigued him in a way that no one had.

Getting the nickname ‘The Hollow Purple Killer’ was something fascinating as well as hilarious. Yet the way you said it, well, did something to Satoru the way no one else had.

That’s why you were so special.

And he wanted to get to know you personally as soon as possible.

Satoru slumped in the passenger seat, watching the city go by in a blur. The detective was driving, sitting in an awkward silence next to him like he was waiting for Satoru to say something. So, he broke the tension the old man was intentionally creating.

“She’s pretty, huh?”

“She’ll eat you alive. Don’t even bother.”

Yeah, he was just waiting for it.

Exactly the response he hoped for too. Seeing your no bullshit attitude was what drew him to you so quickly, the way you handled and commanded a room full of testosterone and egos. It was fucking hot.

Except, Satoru already knew you, knew as much about you as his line of work would allow. A detective chief inspector with your personality, who knew how to make an entrance. Satoru admired your ruthless approach, meticulously studied your past arrests and what you looked for in the cases you were assigned to, the finer details.

He enjoyed seeing what made you tick, the way your bottom lip twitched when your patience was thinner than a piece of fine china, and how the tone in your words heightened when you were frustrated. And when he couldn’t learn anymore about you, he went for the next best thing.

Working alongside you personally.

The group of idiots you had working for you were never close to finding Satoru out and they wouldn’t ever get that chance. But you? You were fun, and on a whole other level than the rest of them. If anyone had a chance to find out Satoru’s identity, it was you.

“C’mon.” Satoru turned in the passenger seat as Sukuna drove with his hands firmly planted on the steering wheel. “She can’t be all that bad.”

Sukuna turned off down a back street. “That bitch is a Venus flytrap. Get too close and she’ll ingest you without a second thought. She eats guys like you for breakfast.”

Shit, that’s hot.

He wished. Satoru Gojo was a glutton for punishment, to which he was yet to receive with substance from anyone. Humility was another one. It excited him, because no one had the balls to go full force and attempt to find him out.

Sukuna sounded like he was either jealous, or hated you. By the way that other officer hung around you, what was his name? Who cares. Satoru noted how he watched you on the sidelines of the briefing immediately, so it could have been jealousy. Maybe you and Sukuna had fucked before, or you let him down in a fashion Satoru expected? Laughed in his grumpy face maybe? Could be.

Now that was amusing.

“See, you’re making me want to get to know her more just by sayin’ that. I’m not intimidated by an assertive woman, it’s actually kind of a turn on.”

Sukuna stifled his laughter, it was automatic, intuitive to know you so well. “You say that now, just give it a week. That’s if you make it that long. She’s partnered you and me together as punishment, don’t enjoy this. I’m fucking not. She knows I don’t play well with others, and in doing that, makes her a bitch. She gets under your skin in a way no woman should. The last guy who tried it lasted two days.”

Oh yes, this was going to be interesting.

“We’re gettin’ on well enough, I think I’ll last just fine… Partner. ”

Sukuna made a sound grumble from his throat. “Don’t call me that, not if you want your balls intact. I’m being neutral right now so she doesn’t ride my ass, and she will. She always does. I’m hungover, I don’t need her yapping in my ear again.

Riding ass, sounded hot. Maybe in time, Satoru could get you to chastise him too? But he kept that to himself. “Sounds like you admire her.”

He cackled in response, turning down another street and pulling his second cigarette out of the box since being in the car. “I respect very little. She’s hot, that’s why I tolerate her, But, like I said, she’s a bitch. I say it to her face all the time. You’ll understand when you spend time with her, if she lets you.”

“Sounds fun.”

“Fucking new guys, you’re all the same.” Sukuna pulled up down a side street and proceeded to get out with or without Satoru.

Satoru climbed out and matched Sukuna’s pace down the illuminated side street. “How so?”

Sukuna fiddled over his pockets for his lighter, taking no notice of the neon signs during the day, or the gambling centres wide open before midday. They bustled as they always did inside the entertainment district, all professions, all times of the day. The city that never slept, tucked just out of reach though prominently in your face.

Or in his case, it was home to Satoru.

Sukuna clicked his lighter and took a drag of smoke into his lungs. “Make obvious gaga eyes at the woman you'll never get and cry to your mommy when she kicks you to the dirt.”

“I’m not like most new guys.” He was definitely unlike any man you’d ever met. Satoru couldn’t wait to give you the run around.

“I’ll have to see that to believe it…”

“So you never…”

Satoru wanted to dip his toes into the assumption rather quickly, once he figured out if anything went on, he could rule out people as potential competition. It was a risk after meeting someone so dickish to ask something so personal, but this was Satoru Gojo.

Nothing was personal to him if he could own it himself.

“Me? Ha! I wouldn’t touch the woman with a barge pole, I like my women lacking in the brain department, it makes it easier to dump and run when they try getting serious.”

Perfect. Satoru grinned, he tried to hide it. But how could he?

“I like intelligent women, it makes the conversations more interesting.”

And boy, the conversations Satoru imagined with you were interesting enough to fantasize about.

You, with glasses and a presentation pointer. Professor fantasy? Maybe. Speaking down to him with condescension and a crack across his ass until he submitted… Ha, he'd never.

He was yet to find someone he’d even dream of submitting to.

“I bet it does… She’ll still turn you down, so don’t bother trying.”

Sukuna led the way and turned right, pushing his way through the coffee shop door, letting it close on Satoru if he hadn’t walked fast enough. For a week day, it was pretty busy, most tables sat occupied. Satoru people watched as the detective babbled about boring stuff, he leant against the counter and zoned him out to see what sort of people the coffee shop brought in today.

A nerdy boy, looked like he’d just finished college, nose in a book that Satoru had read three times by his last year in high school. His glasses sat too low on the bridge of his nose, possibly due to the lack of a proper prescription, he even adjusted them when a girl came in to sit opposite him, they could have been too big for him. A girlfriend perhaps? Nah, he’s way too formal. A crush then.

Across the way, a woman nursed her child, cooing at it like a puppy. Babies were boring, older kids not so much. Satoru enjoyed teaching the kids when they visited the academy, and being the NPA’s wonder boy had its perks, shaping young minds and pushing them to more promising careers. If Satoru hadn’t decided that killing was his favourite, he probably would have become a teacher at some point in his life.

Then, in the furthest corner, Satoru shifted his attention to the lone man on his own. A recognisable man from somewhere, though nowhere, totally engrossed in his newspaper. He donned tattoos up the neck underneath the loose collar of his shirt, his frail body didn’t match as though he didn’t fit his skin.

“Fucking- what is that prick doing in here?”

Sukuna stormed over to the man and sat down with his coffee without warning, Satoru followed. When he finally looked up from his paper, he squeaked and made a move to run. Satoru grabbed his shoulder and sat him back down.

“Easy, guy. We just wanna chat.”

He didn’t know who the guy was now that he was up close, but there was something about him he wanted to know more of. Why was Sukuna so bothered by his presence?

“Tanaka, fancy seeing you here. You skipped out on me last time, I haven’t seen you for a while.”

”W-Well…” He shuffled around, watching Satoru closely as he perched on the edge of the booth seat beside him. “I uh- you know…”

“Playing on those Pachinko machines again, hm?” Sukuna pointed out the stuffed yen notes in his coat pocket the man still had on in the warm coffee shop.

“Just a lil bit… I got paid so-“

”With my money? Or money you hustled?”

He didn’t reply, he just watched Satoru hunch over in his seat almost bored. Why did he look so out of place? Did he recognise Satoru?

”Listen up, new guy. This is your first of many of my shitty lessons.” Sukuna nodded to the man. “This here, is Tanaka, my informant. A slimy little rat who decided not to play nice and bolt when he took my money. I don’t play well with people who take my money and don’t give me what I want in return. I'll just take it next time.”

Oh… So that’s why he looked so familiar. An informant. If he recognised Satoru at all, he’d need to disappear somehow.

Satoru sighed, scratching his head at why Sukuna would even bother to use a bottom dweller to do his dirty work when there were plenty of other people who’d do the job far better and were much more reliable. He could reel off four people right now from the black market

”Why’d you use a gambler to give you information?” Gamblers were walking hazards, total flight risks.

Sukuna sipped on his coffee, playing with his cuffs in the other hand, clicking them like a metronome to set the guy off. “See in this city, Mr. small-minded, traipsing around looking for someone can be tiresome, so getting other people to do it for you helps a bunch. You think all the information I bring in is off my own back? Work smart, not hard, or you’ll get cock performance issues.”

”Right. Makes sense. But what do you want with him if he skipped out on you?”

”I-I didn’t. I promise you I didn’t!”

”Be quiet. Don’t make a scene.”

Tanaka nodded and had trouble clearing his throat. “L-Listen… My mom is ill, I needed to get her help, b-but I have information on what you asked-“

Sukuna sighed, clicking the cuffs harder this time to jitter the man. “That was news I wanted two weeks ago. Do you know anything on the Hollow Purple Killer, or know anyone who does? This is your last chance to redeem yourself, so don’t waste my time.”

Tanaka glanced at Satoru briefly, his eyes wide with the uncertainty about the consequences of his actions. “I uh… I’m not sure- I might know someone who does!”

Oh? Who could that be? There’s only thee people who know who I am, I guarantee he knows none of them.

“And who’s that?”

”Mei Mei, you remember Mei Mei, right?”

Sukuna had pretty much given up on life, Mei Mei wasn’t a name Satoru was familiar with. But Tanaka seemed adamant, nodding to him like he wanted to believe it himself.

”Mei Mei might know something. If anyone does, it’ll be her.- please don’t send me back to that place, I-I won’t run off again, I promise.”

Satoru was intrigued. Was she someone to challenge? Could she put Satoru on the edge of his seat like you did? As of this city, Satoru was sure he knew all of the informants, well, ones worth knowing. Clearly he was wrong.

Wonderful.

Part 1 <- Part 2 -> Part 3

If you would like to be tagged, please let me know! 🤗

Tags - @iamrgo @hoe-biscus @vampir-queen @livelaughlovekuni @rawrpardkitty

@nosleepinsomniaking @merceriee @ciciley97 @lilbxtchsyndrome @residentdragon18

DISCLAIMER - Crossposted from my AO3 - I do not own any of the characters or anything from the anime. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

Also please don’t post any of my work, thank you!

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trothplighted · 2 days ago

Text

largely inspired by @artemisia-black’s absolutely beautiful post about mixed-race Harry and how the fandom treats him, I want to add my own two cents about

~assimilated/mixed things I personally wish showed up in fanfic more~

I’m not that kind of Indian, so I can’t and won’t speak to those specific experiences, but I am indigenous with some European ancestry and urban/assimilated + used to being one of the only nonwhite people in the room, and rather than ask one person to take the burden of going “hey white people please stop” I’m going to add my voice to the conversation.

this is not a how-to guide. I’m one idiot on the Internet. but if you are interested in authentically engaging with assimilated and/or mixed-race characters of color, here are my own personal thoughts, because I agree that a lot of racebent headcanons or examinations of canon POC in HP feel shallow as fuck. I will occasionally add advice but that advice is Only From Me, it’s not a rulebook.

not all of us speak our ancestral/cultural languages. I feel like this is fairly obvious with Harry since we see him speaking English, but James might not speak anything except English either. this doesn’t make either of them Less Mixed or More White. maybe explore how James feels about this, and how Harry feels as an adult when he learns more about his family and discovers that he potentially has relatives in India. also consider the difficulty in learning a new language as a teen or an adult, and the racism you face when you pursue learning it. Harry’s also not alone in being someone severed from his ancestral language! Seamus also would have experiences being expected to primarily speak English, and if you have headcanons surrounding other characters being Welsh or Cornish they’re also going to know a bit about how he feels.

having connections to whiteness is a complicated thing. Artemisia talked about this but I also want to reiterate it. it’s not only about visually fitting in. what if you like Western movies or music or books over art made by people from your culture? what if you don’t like your traditional foods much? what if your white family or white friends are less toxic/abusive than your nonwhite ones? What if you know you’re connecting with Western art and media because that’s how you were raised and you feel like you should like “cultural” things more? What if there are Western values you like more than “traditional” ones? What if you’re a member of an alternative subculture or you’re queer, and you’re better understood among “your people” - who are predominantly white? How this plays out with Harry could take a number of forms. In AUs where Sirius raises him, how’s he going to cope with being expected to be very English and connect solely with his white Pureblood ancestry (as opposed to his Indian Pureblood ancestry, something he must have for any of the lore in this story to make sense while he’s also brown) - what does that look like? In canon, what about the Dursleys - does he feel pressured to focus on his nonwhite identity while also very obviously connecting with predominantly white English wizarding culture? Is he going to feel out of place if he goes to India and discovers that Indian spellcasting and magic work totally differently? Is using a wand a sign of becoming Western? These are a ton of questions worth exploring but all of them are going to make you engage with Harry’s identity beyond “food and skin color”.

Not all of us have cultural clothing, and not all cultural clothing looks “traditional”. Setting aside the question of what traditional clothing for wizards looks like in non-European cultures, Harry and his family might only have Western clothing. More broadly, assimilated and mixed people might have modern clothes by designers from their cultures, jewelry blending traditional and Western aesthetics, or a few cultural pieces that get worn at special occasions. Harry might be envious of the Patil twins for their ability to blend Indian and English aesthetics, or he might be envious of Dean because Dean has a connection to the black community in London and access to street fashion and contemporary clothes. He might have a few pieces from his grandparents that he finds in his vault - how does he feel about them?

Not all of us pass down both sides of our culture to our kids. Does James pass down just his Englishness to Harry, because he’s clearly okay with it and connected to it? Does Harry teach his kids about how their great-grandparent came from India? Does he come to terms with the language loss, or does he raise his children to be bilingual? Would James have wanted Harry to speak more languages than English? Is Ginny pressuring Harry to “pick a side” and assimilate fully? Did Lily pressure James that way? If this is an AU where James is with Sirius, how do they navigate Englishness vs Indianness? Also, does Harry resent his family for being so assimilated? Does he regret not growing up aware of his heritage? Does James wish Fleamont and Euphemia had taught more?

The problematic fave racist text. This is kind of a silly one but it speaks to something really deep for me. In many cases if you grow up assimilated into whiteness you’re going to have a Problematic Fave that was your sole source of connection as a kid. For me and countless other Native kids it was Disney’s Pocahontas, but for a Latine friend of mine it was The Road to El Dorado. Basically, if there was a “diverse” movie or book featuring someone who was Kind Of Like You that you were allowed to watch as a kid, you’re going to have a soft spot for that thing, even if in hindsight it’s actively offensive. What’s Harry’s? What’s James’s? What’s Dean’s? What about the Patils? What pieces of his culture, even bastardized and appropriated, is Harry latching on to, and how do they shape his view of himself?

Not all of us like traditional food or like “typical” traditional food. Harry liking Indian takeaway is not a sign of anything except general good taste, because plenty of people in England like Indian food. But more to the point - Harry might have negative associations with Indian food because of Petunia’s racism. Harry might never have tried Indian food until that summer he spent in Diagon Alley in PoA, because until that point he’d been subjected to the Dursleys’ control of what he ate or he was at Hogwarts, which seems to serve English-American cuisine with occasional possible forays into “Irish” or “Scottish” food (in parentheses because it’s probably about as authentic as what I can get at a chain restaurant here). Harry might have only tried for-white-people Indian food, and been unimpressed. He’s not less brown or less mixed because of food, and his relationship with it will probably be more complicated than simply “oh yeah I love curry”.

this is not an exhaustive list but it’s a place to start. other assimilated and/or mixed people PLEASE add things, because I know I’m not alone.

#hp #hp meta

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theprettynosferatu · 3 days ago

Text

CW / AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Please please for Christ's sake don't skip this section, I'm begging you.

This story is obviously fiction. It is *very dark* fiction. Our lead character, Julia, is a VILLAIN PROTAGONIST. She's a sadist and a sociopath. Just because she is mostly the point of view character it does NOT mean she somehow represents the author. Depiction and approval are different things.

It might seem obvious but I've seen too many people idolizing Patrick Bateman after reading / watching American Psycho to leave what I feel should be clear unsaid.

If you feel in any way that reading this text might have any negative impact on your emotions or mental health, please skip this one. There's plenty of other stories here.

CW: Noncon, corruption, psychological and physical sadism, anal, betrayal.

I - Emptiness

For as long as she could remember, Julia knew there was something missing inside her. What that was, she couldn’t rightfully say. It didn’t even bother her that much most of the time- hell, if anything, it had helped her career immensely, showering her with promotion after promotion even at her relatively young age.

Julia had gained a reputation for being able to make the tough calls, for efficiently breaking the bad news. She was aware there was an undercurrent of judgement behind those corporate terms. The tough calls were invariably cutting this or that department, eliminating these redundant positions, downsizing that sector. The stated reasons changed: a merger, a refocusing of the company’s efforts, a streamlining of the workflow. The effects were always the same, as was the ultimate goal. The line had to go up. If it went up, that was acceptable. If it went up faster than the previous fiscal year, that was good. If it went up by a record amount, that was great. She knew, of course, that the line left scores of bodies in its wake, tossing workers into the ranks of the unemployed; but the line also gave her perks, privileges, fat bonuses. Almost no one in the boardroom felt guilty about it, despite what they may say in P.R. statements, so why should she feel bad?

Maybe it was just… evolution, Julia thought. Her missing part made her exquisitely suited for her environment, and so she thrived. Did a shark feel remorse for being able to hunt?

There was, however, a tradeoff, and this Julia did mind. That lack of… whatever it was she was supposed to have, came with a rather annoying side effect. As far as she could tell, Julia was significantly less interested in sex than her peers. Certainly less interested in the topic than her best friend Claudia, and Claudia was considered a prude by most people.

Sure, Julia masturbated every now and then. But she did it with the same spirit and intent that she applied to going to the gym, or trying new attractive looks, or lasering off her body hair. It was maintenance. Simply an annoying task to keep her body fit for purpose and her mind free of distractions. She wished she could reach orgasm quicker, efficiently. That would free up time for more valuable matters.

Relationships had been tricky, of course. Julia had learned quite quickly to mirror her partners and their particular sexual interests, and that had provided some temporary entertainment. She had been with men, women, non binary partners. She had been with cis partners and trans partners. She had performed the role of the loving, tender, nurturing figure and of the wild party girl; she had been the willing slut and the passive, almost virginal trad girl. She had taken part in threesomes and swap parties and… and it was all so exhausting. Inevitably she got bored. Inevitably her partners noticed the cracks in her facade. After that, everything always went downhill, sometimes in a quick and explosive way, sometimes in an extended agony.

What was, then, the point? Relationships were too much of a hassle for too small and temporary a reward.

Julia pushed such thoughts down as she opened her laptop, comfortable between her expensive sheets. She wasn’t exactly sure why she looked at porn when she felt she had to masturbate, except that she knew others masturbated to porn. It did nothing for her. She usually picked a video at random from the biggest porn site and got to work, but she might as well masturbate to a nature documentary. Seeing others having sex didn’t inflame any passion in her, and neither did the often ludicrous scenarios the films presented, when they bothered to present any narrative at all. Julia sighed. Better to get it over with.

Yeah, sure, schoolgirl needs better grades. Whatever. It would do, Julia figured. A part of her wondered about the school’s dress code, while another noticed the three token seats that were meant to evoke “a classroom” in the scene. Clearly the budget for the production had gone somewhere else, presumably the post-filming cleanup. Shit. This would not do. There was nothing remotely erotic about the whole thing… not that she was a good measure of what was erotic, anyway. She absentmindedly clicked on another video, lamenting the fact that her pussy was informing her in a rather annoying way that yes, it needed attention and no, Julia couldn’t just skip this particular rubbing session. She let her hand wander between her legs with something akin to resignation.

With porn in the background, Julia tried to relax. She closed her eyes, desperate to let herself be in the moment, to focus on the sensations of her body, to finally fucking cum and move on. Then something caught her attention. She looked at the screen.

Huh. A… japanese scene? Sure, why not. But there was something strange in the way the actress moaned, the expression of her face. Julia sat up. She could feel something new, something unknown stirring inside her body. She stared at the screen, enraptured. This scene had something different, something she couldn’t pinpoint at first, something that made her unconsciously rub herself faster and faster…

It dawned on her as she looked at the actress’ eyes. She was not enjoying a single second of it. She was not acting disgusted or humiliated. She was genuinely ashamed of herself, of her actions, of every choice in her life that had led her to the moment when the camera had been turned on. The tears in her eyes were not fake, the yelps of pain and discomfort were not an act. The whole story was there, written in her every expression for Julia to read. This woman’s dignity, forever gone. The moment she knew she would have no prospects for a normal life was right there, immortalized by a digital recording, to be replayed over and over for the enjoyment of people who couldn’t give less of a shit who this person was. The deep, intimate pain of her failure, exposed for the world to see. The utter humiliation of her body betraying her when a pang of pleasure made her twitch.

This woman had never desired to be a porn star. Need and desperation had led her down that path, and now she realized, too late, that the price she was paying was far too steep. This woman had a family, Julia imagined, who would never talk to her again. This woman would never hold a job that didn’t involve spreading her legs like a whore. Her scene partner didn’t give a fuck about her pleasure, her comfort, her well-being. He just used her body like it was a ragdoll, grabbing her and moving her from position to position while the light in her gradually dimmed to nothing.

Right there, on the screen, was a life being utterly ruined.

With a scream, Julia came like she had never cum before.

II - Simulacra

“I’m so sorry. I was looking forward to going down there! It’s just… you know, when it rains it pours and work is pummeling me right now. I’ll make it up to you, love… I promise.”

“It’s okay. I know how your bosses are. I’ll just have to miss you for a little bit more. I love you”, said Tim.

“I love you too”, lied Julia before hanging up.

She took a deep breath. It took effort to sound like a good girlfriend. She reminded herself that Tim, dear, poor Tim, was her best choice. She was even fond of him in some strange way, a bit like someone might care for a cherished pet. Having a boyfriend -on paper- was useful. It kept unwanted advances at bay and projected an image of someone that had it all figured out, had a solid life: that was crucial in business.

She went over her mental checklist of the reasons she should keep Tim around. First, he lived out of town. That was a big plus. She could mentally prepare to see him, brace herself for the work of playing a role she didn’t particularly enjoy, and there were no surprise “dropping by”, no expectation of spending quality time together every day, or even every week. Then there was the way Tim adored her. He felt he had struck gold with Julia, that for some reason he had landed someone absolutely out of his league- which wasn’t wrong, but wasn’t as extreme as he thought, either. His self-image was a distorted mess, which came in handy to Julia. He would endure and go along with anything she desired, and she knew exactly how to measure affection to provoke the desired effects. Just a vaguest hint that she might not be happy with him was enough to turn Tim into a desperate mess, eager to please her.

Julia had pondered, a bit as an academic exercise, why Tim felt so inferior. He wasn’t a handsome man, but he wasn’t bad-looking either; in fact, he had poured his insecurities into a very strict gym regimen, so his physique could probably land him a few girls, if he didn’t insist on constantly underestimating himself. He was self-employed, and wealthy enough to live in his own house by a lake seventy miles outside the city; that would be another plus should he choose to enter the dating game. And he was kind, which apparently was valuable to some people.

Julia had her own pet theory about where the trauma that characterized her beloved little ball of insecurities had originated. It seemed silly, but she had a feeling it was right, or at least in the right ballpark, and it came down to the simple fact that Tim was not, in fact, called Tim; Tim was not short for Timothy- hell, it wasn’t short for anything. His real name was Tiberius.

Now one could imagine a couple of history professors naming their kid that, and while it wouldn’t make the playground taunts go down any easier, it would have at least some sort of dignity. The fact was that Tim’s parents were most definitely not history buffs. They were Trekkies, and had named their only child in honor of their favorite fictional spaceship captain. Why they hadn’t gone with “James” was anyone’s guess. Julia didn’t really care about the adventures of some made up, stupid, space hero. But Tim did, on a deep level. It was as if his parents had engraved the label of “nerd” on his DNA, and no matter how successful he got, he could never shake the feeling that he was an outcast, a pariah, and he didn’t deserve the attention of any woman, let alone one like Julia.

Well, whatever it was, it worked for her. Tim hadn’t pushed back when she canceled her trip to see him. She knew he wouldn’t. She stretched and got ready for a weekend of exploration.

After her sudden discovery two nights before, Julia had gone on a ravenous search for more. She found that japanese porn tended to be more palatable to her, the girls in it often pretending to hate every act they were engaged in- but all too often, Julia could see that they were just acting. Sure, every now and then she would get to experience the last, dim, lights of dignity and self worth die in front of a camera, but she sadly found these were the exception, rather than the rule. It was then that she had broadened the search, like a bloodhound honed in on a particular scent.

She discovered a few delightful things. The first was a psychological phenomenon commonly known as sexualization of trauma. Julia didn’t give a fuck about the psychological underpinnings or emotional quandaries of the phenomenon, only the end result; that end result being a community of victims willing to not only recount their experiences for the pleasure of others but getting off on their own victimization as well. And, of course, there were legions of anonymous posters cheering them on. Now this was something she could enjoy.

She was aware that a lot of it, perhaps most of it, was pretend. After all, there was no way of knowing or verifying anything at all- for all she knew, the texts posted by these women were written by random men playing out their own fantasies; or the videos of women rubbing and begging to be raped again were performances by otherwise vanilla girls with a rape kink. She didn’t truly care as long as the simulacra felt real enough, as long as it scratched that itch inside her. For too long she had been looking for something that made her feel real, primal passion. Now the answer stared at her in the face, simple and undeniable: it was pain. Not the pain of whips and spankings. The pain that made her blood run hot was deep, scarring psychological pain. And now that she knew what she desired, she couldn’t get enough.

The event that would change her life came, as such things often do, by complete happenstance. Julia was enjoying her fourth hour of Saturday debauchery, looking deep into the eyes of some slut fucking herself with a hairbrush while begging to be used like a cumdump and discarded in some alley when a notification popped up on her phone. A simple text message from her friend Claudia.

“Hey, what you up to?”

Somehow, her mind fused everything together. Suddenly, the girl ravaging herself with a brush, tears in her eyes, was Claudia. Suddenly, the person begging to be made to feel less than human, was Claudia. Suddenly, the woman thanking random internet strangers calling her a worthless cunt, was Claudia. And Julia came with a scream.

The notion took root instantly. Still panting, the idea was undeniable, solid as steel, inevitable.

Claudia. Julia would watch Claudia be broken.

III - Such a Good Person, Such a Good Friend

While they didn’t truly understand, Julia’s sudden change in the way she approached certain aspects of her job was welcomed by the higher ups. Having someone other than HR take the time to do in-person meetings when a position was terminated sure looked better than sending an email, and Julia was able to explain, with a face of absolute sadness, the reasons why someone was fired. The way she had explained it had been so noble, too. “I make the choice, I have to at least be decent enough to look people in the eye while I let them know.”

Not that it mattered a whole lot in that environment, but a few people started gossiping that maybe Julia was not just ruthlessly efficient: she was, deep down, a good person.

Most employees -or rather, former employees- appreciated the gesture, even as the news wrecked them. That someone from the executive levels had deigned to come down, to talk to them and explain to them as people the situation made them feel seen as more than mere cogs in a machine. It made them feel like at least there was some humanity there, in the middle of all that pain.

And there was pain. Julia pretended to be saddened, to understand their concerns, to listen to their pleas. Meanwhile, she did her best not to let her arousal show, fighting against a pussy that got soaked watching someone’s entire life plan crumble, taking in the way the light reflected on their tearful eyes, the delightful melody of their voices breaking. Every distraught face she saved in her memory, etched in her mind for later enjoyment. There was something marvelous in knowing these losers thought they were being treated like proper people, when they were simply being made into porn.

Often, when there was a big round of layoffs, Julia couldn’t even make it home. She just locked her office and let her fingers play with savage intensity, reveling in what she had caused. Had she recommended more “streamlining” as of late? Certainly. And it was worth it, just for the sensations her body rewarded her with.

Ah yes, she was such a good person, watching dreams crack. Mid-masturbation she sent Claudia a text, reminding her of their upcoming night out. Her plan was in full swing.

“I’m not sure, Jules…”, said Claudia. Only she called Julia “Jules”, a privilege earned from their shared highschool years, long before. Claudia took another look in the mirror.

“Come on, girl! What’s the harm? You have a great body, so might as well show it off a bit! Maybe get a few free drinks and everything. I mean, how long has it been since…”

Julia didn’t have to finish that sentence. The answer was implicit, as was the rest of the question. Claudia had not gotten laid since her fiancee had dumped her, eighteen months before. She wasn’t ready to date yet, or even to have some casual fling… but Jules had a point, in a bit of a twisted way. Some male attention might be just what she needed to boost her confidence, maybe get her back in the game. Eventually. Still, the outfit Julia had suggested was a bit much, hugging her body tight, giving onlookers a rather generous view of her cleavage.

Then again, Julia herself was wearing a pretty revealing outfit. It was unlike her. Then the thought occurred to Claudia that Jules was dressed that way for her. To make her feel more at ease being a bit sexier. To help her reclaim some sort of power, rather than moping around her apartment. Jules was such a good friend…

That settled it. Fine, time to play the sexy minx for a night at the club.

The girls came back to the apartment wasted. To be more precise, Claudia was wasted. Julia had measured her drinking with clinical precision. They laughed and giggled as they collapsed on the couch.

“...and the blonde guy! He so had the hots for you!”

“Me? Claudia, the guy was drooling all over you! And don’t pretend you didn’t tease him like a little slut, you heartbreaker!”

Claudia couldn’t help but explode in joyful laughter. It was true. She had flirted with that guy. A lot. That guy and several other guys, and fuck it, it had felt great. She had even felt one man’s boner while they danced and damn it, knowing she could still get someone hard had been such a relief and a source of happiness. It was silly, but after the last year and a half…

Suddenly, Julia leapt out of the couch. She opened Claudia’s laptop and put on some old school dance music. Nostalgia filled the air. It was the soundtrack to their adolescence, their early adventures.

“Come here!”, shouted Julia. With great effort, Claudia peeled herself off the couch. There was a website open on the laptop.

“What is that?”

“I say we use the wonders of the Internet to have some more fun! Just play along!”, said Julia before clicking something.

Soon a man’s poorly lit, grainy face was on the screen. Claudia, dizzy, tried to make sense of it.

“Dance with me”, said Julia. “Let’s put on a show for this rando!”

It felt naughty. It felt a bit wicked. But after a night of feeling sexier than ever, the idea of cockteasing people who could never touch her felt fun to Claudia. She tried to forget that the camera was there, to move the way her body wanted her to, the way the music demanded her to. Then, Claudia looked at the screen and shrieked. There was a cock there. The man was jerking off furiously. Claudia leapt out of frame, paused and broke out in giggles.

“What the fuck?”, she said between laughs.

“Well, I can’t say I blame the guy!” said Julia. “Two hot girls like us dancing? I take what he did as a compliment!”

“We are not, like… hot girls, Jules. At least I’m not.”

Julia went silent. With a serious look on her face, she took her friend’s hands.

“Claudia. Look at me. You. Are. A. Sexy. Woman.”

“Jules, I’m not…”

“Stop that. You are sexy, end of discussion. And that you can’t see it breaks my fucking heart. You had guys fawning over you left and right tonight, and now, without even trying, you got a guy so hot and bothered he had to jerk it on camera!”

“I guess…”

“No, no guessing. It’s a fact. You are hot. And you like to tease men. And that’s okay! It’s fucking fun! You deserve to have some fucking fun!”

“I’m not, like, a cocktease…”

“Yes you are! Yes, you are. And that’s perfectly fine. It’s fun, it’s harmless and it makes you happy. So stop running away from it!”

“I… I don’t know”, mumbled Claudia, making her way back to the couch. Julia sat next to her, and together they stared at the ceiling.

“I guess… maybe it did feel kinda good”, confessed Claudia.

“I know”, said Julia.

She let a moment pass. Let that admission sink in. Then she added, with a devious smile: “You know what would be fun?”

“What?”

“Well, my boyfriend has a house by a lake, did I tell you that?”

“Yep.”

“Well… lake, bikinis for a splash, you, me, him…”

“I’m… not following, Jules.”

“You like to tease, and he’s a little kitten of a guy. To be honest, to see his face all flustered if you flirt with him, and he knows he can’t do anything, and I’m there… God, that would be so funny!”

“Wait. Bitch, you want me to turn your boyfriend on?!”

“Yes! Come on… just as, like, a prank.”

The idea started swimming in Claudia’s head. It wouldn’t be wrong, if Jules was up for it… and having a guy wanting her for an entire weekend… the concept was at the very least intriguing.

Julia looked at her friend’s eyes. She had her.

For some reason, Julia closed her eyes, and the image of a snake coiling around its prey came to her mind.

IV - Fun in the Sun

“She looks great, doesn’t she? I mean, considering she’s been depressed for like, almost two years… I guess she managed to keep hitting the gym”

“Uh-huh”, mumbled Tim.

Julia was barely holding it together. Her mind raced with expectation, with fantasies, with the simple delight of watching her boyfriend squirm. Poor man. So simple. So good hearted. So ashamed.

The shopping trip had most certainly been worth it. Sure, Claudia had gotten cold feet, as Julia knew she would, but a little prodding, teasing, and a lot of love bombing her with how amazing she looked in micro bikinis and tight shorts had swayed the tide. In the end, Claudia had bought something that could be called a swimsuit in only the most generous use of the term, which covered just enough to avoid an indecent exposure charge. Paired with a top which left her midriff exposed and the shorts that let her toned legs in the open… well, the effect had been immediate.

How Tim had avoided staring! So cute. Adorable, in a pathetic sort of way. He had welcomed the girls into his home with a stammer that had bordered on incomprehensibility. Claudia had noticed it too, of course, and the women had shared a mischievous smile. When they declared that it was so hot and so sunny out, and that they should take a nice splash in the lake, Tim had tried to look for an excuse to, simply, not be there. He had come up with nothing, and the girls cast their clothes aside right there, in his living room. Suddenly Tim became incredibly invested in the little crumbs on his table. He looked at them as if they held the secret to the Universe, grasping at straws to avoid being swept in the torrent of desire that he could almost smell in the room. Of course, Julia had made sure there was no escape. With a simple “Honey, look how cute these are! We bought them yesterday”, she forced Tim to confront the simple fact that this girl, her beloved girlfriend’s best friend, was objectively, mathematically, and empirically hot as fuck.

He waited for them to return, steeling himself, stewed in guilt. He loved Julia, he reminded himself. Julia. The woman he didn’t deserve, who due to a fluke error in some celestial paperwork loved him back. How could he do this to her? Even when not acting on it, he felt the desire itself was a form of treason. And now, Julia prompted him to look at Claudia again, glistening and wet, fresh from their lake adventure.

“Are you listening to me?”, said Julia.

“I am! I am. Sorry”, said Tim. That tone of voice, that hint of displeasure was all he needed to know he had to be better. Do better. But what did “better” mean in this context? Looking at Claudia more? Managing to expunge his thoughts about her before Julia realized?

“Whatever. I’m taking a shower”, said Julia, making sure to pour a substantial dose of disappointment in her voice. Better to keep his man nice and servile.

Claudia struggled for a second, but only for a second. After all, Julia had come up with the plan, it was just harmless fun, and god damnit, it felt so fucking good to be desired again. As soon as her friend left the room, she sat next to poor, shrinking Tim. The man seemed to be trying to disappear into the couch. Claudia gave him her best smile.

“What’s up with her?”, asked Claudia.

“Nothing! She, huh, just wanted to, you know… shower. Get the lake water off her skin, I guess. I… yeah.”

It was just too cute. Claudia leaned over Tim to grab a beer, letting her breasts brush against his lap. Could she have gone around the table? Sure. But where was the fun in that?

“If you ask me, Jules has been a bit weird lately. Guess it’s because she hasn’t been able to come down here for a while, you know what I mean?”

“I… yeah. This place is really nice to relax, and, well, the lake and the trees and…”

“I meant, you know, she might be needing some fun.”

“Yeah, work has been rough with her, so resting up will be nice for her.”

“Tim. Look at me. I’m saying Jules needs to get some good cock.”

Tim’s face went from red to bright neon. To hear that word, spoken so casually by the woman next to him… he forced himself not to pay attention to the tension growing in his pants.

“Anyway”, continued Claudia, “I guess she’ll get some soon, right, Tim? I don’t mean to cockblock her by being here, so… you do what you gotta do, you know? I don’t mind. And if you two happen to be loud… well, that wouldn’t bother me one bit.”

“I… if we… we’ll keep it down.”

“Don’t! Come on, Tim. You know I haven’t gotten a good fuck for months! So at least listening in would be something… and I’m sure you can make Jules scream. You have that look in you. All proper and polite in public but a beast in the sack, right? Oh, I envy her…”

Tim was about to mumble something, anything, when he saw Julia walk back into the living room. Hallelujah! Saved by his own personal angel.

“Julia! How was the shower?”

“Quite nice, actually. Hey Claudia, let me show you my favorite spot in the yard!”

The women left. Tim breathed again.

Outside, the girls laughed.

“You really told him that?”, giggled Julia.

“Yeah! You should have seen his face!”

“We need to step it up a notch!”

“I… I don’t know, Jules. Feels a bit cruel, you know?”

“What, getting him all hot and bothered? I’ll make sure he gets some proper release for that. And after dinner, when it’s all dark and in a good mood, you can lay it on thick, you know? So I can see his reaction. Plus, don’t pretend you aren’t having fun.”

“Fine, I am having fun toying with him. A lot of fun, actually!”

“That’s my girl! And tonight we’ll have so much more fun!”

Claudia agreed with a smile.

She would regret that smile, come night time.

V - White Wine Under the Moon

The night was warm, and the wine abundant- none of these things helped Tim, who was trying desperately not to sweat too much. In fact, he was soaked. Claudia, downing glass after glass, had become anything but subtle. She laughed and winked at him as she put her hand on his knee. She hugged him tight, declaring him to be “adorable” after some mumbled comment uttered by the poor man. She whispered in his ear, letting her warm breath tickle him, sending shivers down his spine. Even Tim, who assumed by default that no woman was interested in him, ever, had to admit that Claudia’s interest was rather obvious. But that wasn’t the worst part.

He shot a glance at Julia. Surely she had noticed everything too. Tim tried to be polite, to remain calm, to go to his girlfriend; but every time he attempted to pull away from the drunk temptress, she found some excuse to keep him by her side. It was, he felt, like sitting down for a nice evening with a fully armed nuclear device. Julia would explode sooner or later. Oh, he could imagine it so clearly… the screaming, the tears, perhaps even the damning evidence of his traitorous erection being levied against him. He didn’t want to lose her, not ever- but especially not like this. He felt guilty, as if his body and mind had cheated on Julia, in front of Julia, despite his titanic effort to do absolutely nothing with Claudia. He wasn’t quite sure what crime he had committed in a past life to deserve this hell, but it must have been nothing less than murder. Maybe he had been Jack the Ripper?

He tried to distract his mind with such musings, to ignore the heat coming from Claudia’s legs, now comfortably set on his lap, to let her comments (“wine always makes me horny…”, “I’ll just be in my bikini, it’s so hot here!”) slide. Then, the dreaded moment came.

“Honey, can I talk to you for a sec?”, said Julia, her face a mask of absolute seriousness.

“Oh, Jules, but I’m so comfy!”, objected Claudia. Tim, for his part, leapt up, ready to accept his sentence. What defense could he possibly offer? Blame Claudia? No, Claudia had not put those fantasies in his head. And he had been the one unable to stop her, to set the proper boundaries. If a head had to roll, it would be his. But maybe, just maybe, he could salvage his relationship with Julia…

Without a word, they walked outside, leaving Claudia to pour herself yet another glass.

“So?”, said Julia.

“I… look, I tried to… I don’t know, to be a good host, I guess. And your friend, she’s very… friendly? Look, I know you’re upset with me and you have every right to be, but…”

“But what? But what, Tim? Are you going to let the little slut just get away with it?”

“The… what? Julia, I don’t…”

“You fucking pussy. You pathetic little excuse for a man.”

“Why… what the hell are you talking about?”

“What I’m saying, Tiberius, is that you have a little piece of cockteasing meat right there in your living room and you’re letting her walk all over you! She has been toying with you since the moment she got here and you… what? You are just going to let her? You expect me to deal with your cock after she has been teasing it all day? What am I, your relief maid because you’re too much of a fucking coward to do what you know you have to do? What you know you want to do? Any real man would have bent that cunt over five hours ago! And you stammer and talk about being polite? You expect me to stay with a weak, feeble little manlet because he’s oh so polite? I am a woman. I want a man! That thing inside is a little slut that needs to be taught some fucking manners.”

“Julia, what the fuck? That’s your best friend!”

“Yes. And even I, her best friend, can see that she’s asking for it and I’m disgusted that you don’t have the balls to punish her!”

Julia took a step forward, whispering in Tim’s ear.

“Come on. I know you like her. She has been slutting it up all day. I don’t blame you for wanting to fuck the living shit out of her. The way she has been rubbing against you… showing off her skin… and you know why she does it? Because she thinks you’re a pussy. Because she thinks you’re a little pathetic nerd that won’t do anything about it. Because she thinks she can get away with using you for entertainment and then find a real man to fuck her. Well, is she right? Are you going to be a coward or are you going to go in and use the slut for the one thing sluts are meant to be used? Am I with a boy or a man?”

Claudia had to admit she was having a bit too much fun, but Julia hadn’t objected. Maybe she had crossed the line a bit, she couldn’t be sure; but even if she had, Claudia was sure Jules and herself could talk it out. She stretched on the sofa and watched the couple walk back in. Jules was smiling, so clearly everything was fine. Tim, on the other hand, seemed a bit… weird. Not shook, not exactly, but a tad… out of it. Maybe the wine had finally gone to his head? That certainly could make things more fun…

Suddenly, she was on the floor. Her mind caught up with the moment a second too late, the shock and the wine making her head feel as if underwater. Then, the conclusion: Tim pushed me down.

“Dude, what the f-”

Her statement was cut short by a strong, authoritative slap in the face. She looked at her best friend, who had just sat down and watched the scene with enraptured attention.

“Jules, fuck! What are you…?”

Hands on her wrists, pinning her to the floor. The entire weight of Tim’s body on her back, paralyzing her. His cock rubbing between her asscheeks, like some animal in the middle of mating season.

“Well, play with fire and you’re going to get burned, you fucking whore.”, smiled Julia.

Teeth biting down on her shoulder. Tears pooling in her eyes.

“Jules…”, she pleaded.

Julia leapt up.

“Don’t pretend you don’t want it, you cunt. You’ve been acting like a complete slut lately, haven’t you? Then you get to be treated like a slut. It’s that simple. You did this to yourself, my wonderful friend.”

Julia’s words wormed their way in Claudia’s head. She knew they weren’t true. She knew she didn’t deserve… whatever it was that was going to happen. And still, somewhere deep inside her, a tiny voice echoed in her brain. It’s my fault. This is all my fault. I deserve this. I’ve been a slut and I deserve this.

Julia went on one knee and caressed her friend’s face. “Pay close attention, now. I want you to feel everything.”

A sound, strange, incongruous. Just a little snap. Scissors cutting her tiny bikini bottom. Had Julia been carrying scissors around all day?

Then, pain. Searing, mind-breaking pain. Claudia screamed as Tim, in his frenzy of revenge, shoved his cock inside her with no mercy, no concern for her feelings. It stretched her and made her feel invaded, under attack in the most intimate way. Tim felt as if he was finally doing what he should have done so long ago, to so many bitches who had treated him like dirt. Julia simply opened her legs, pulled her bottom aside and rubbed her pussy, inches away from her friend. Yes, this was it. This was what all had been leading up to. Every scream was a melody. Every futile attempt at struggling, a delicious treat. She took it all in, the way Tim mercilessly bounced on Claudia’s toned buttcheeks; the expressions on Claudia’s face, the pain, the shame, the little traitorous needles of pleasure. Yes, by teasing Tim, Claudia had set herself up, made herself horny and needy, and now it all came together in a beautiful agony of contradictions. Oh, how Claudia would hate herself, thought Julia.

Claudia screamed and begged in half-formed, desperate pleas, her mind twisting to the point of feeling it would tear itself apart.

My fault. I deserve this. The words tormented Claudia even more than her body. Horror grew inside her as her own pussy betrayed her, as her screams mixed with moans, as her breathing grew quick and ragged, and not from pain. It was as if her body was doing its best to confirm what she feared the most. I’ve been a slut. I am a slut. This is what I get.

Julia pulled out her phone, making sure to keep Tim’s face out of the frame. Insurance and a nice memento. Besides, she wanted to make a certain moment live forever, and she could tell it was close.

“Please… Julia… please make him stop… why…?”, mumbled Claudia between panting in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

Julia got closer to Claudia, and licked a tear off her face.

“Why? Aside from the fact that you deserve it for being such a huge slut? Well… because I want it to happen. That’s simply it. Because it makes me fucking wet. No other reason. How does it feel, to know your pain is just my porn?”

Porn? The humiliation felt so deep, so personal. Claudia was just a spectacle. Her suffering, just entertainment. Her mind felt overwhelmed, repeating words like poison. I’m just porn. I’m a slut. I deserve this.

Then, it came. The surrender. The moment Claudia went limp, accepting her fate. Julia bit her lip. Yes, this was perfect. All fight gone. The light fading from her friend’s eyes. A wound opening deep in her soul. One that would never heal.

An orgasm caught Julia almost by surprise. It was heaven. She laughed and moaned and screamed, her hips bucking wildly, hitting Claudia in the face. She had never felt anything as strong as the orgasm wracking her body. Julia howled as, for the first time in her life, she experienced something she had only seen in videos and had never even considered a possibility. She squirted her brains out, soaking her friend’s tearful face with her juices. As the sensation subsided, she looked at the denigrated, humiliated face of her dear friend, stared deep into Claudia’s green eyes. Julia could read the struggle inside them.

“Come on, you fucking whore. You know you want to cum. You need to cum because you wanted this. You are going to cum because this is what you really are. Just a fuckhole, a slut, a worthless cocksocket. Stop fighting it.”

In the end, Claudia gave in. Maybe it was exhaustion, and maybe it was Julia’s words, and maybe it was just that she felt so helpless, so ashamed, so useless… but she simply stopped trying to fight it. She screamed, her orgasm an ultimate hymn of defeat. She collapsed, physically and mentally. Sluts cum. I’m a slut. I deserve this.

Julia giggled, every moment captured on her phone. But she wasn’t done.

“Tim, this slut is enjoying it way too much. I say her tight asshole needs some of your tender care.”

And so, the pain returned. Claudia had always been terrified of it, denying everyone who proposed to try anal, no matter how much they pleaded. It had always seemed to her to be degrading, humiliating. Now, she had no choice, no chance to say no. And the pain was worse than anything she had ever feared. She cried with each thrust, feeling as if she was being split in half. She wanted her mind to somehow fly away, to disassociate, to experience that sort of out of body phenomenon she had sometimes read about. Her mind didn’t give her that mercy. It was as if Julia’s words had anchored her in a way she couldn’t fight. Feel everything.

It hurt so bad. Claudia could only mutter the words through gritted teeth. “Stop… stop… stop…”

Claudia blinked away tears. Julia wasn’t there anymore. For some reason, the full extent of her betrayal hadn’t fully sunk in until the moment she felt fingers skillfully playing with her pussy. Julia. Her friend. Her support. Her found sister, linked not by blood but by love. Had she ever loved her? Had Julia ever cared for her? Did she even know the real Julia?

As the pain dulled a bit, horror took over. Julia’s fingers. Claudia could feel her own body responding to them, to the way they teased, the way they moved, their deliberate speed, the calculated way they applied pressure and relief… No. Not like this. Not with a cock in her ass. No. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t. She…

She had no chance. She felt something new, something hot flooding her. The sensation, along with the realization pushed her over the edge. He came in my ass. My ass. Used it like his cumdump.

Julia laughed as Claudia's dignity melted away in one overwhelming orgasm..

Epilogue - Shopping

If you were to come across them, say, at a mall, you’d probably think a few things. Maybe you’d be struck by their beauty, both women irrefutably fair. Maybe you’d envy them their shared laughter, the complicity born from years of close friendship. Maybe you’d notice them going into a lingerie store, and your mind would imagine them in provocative garments before a night of passion.

You would never know the truth. You’d never guess one of them had been broken by the other. You’d never divine the humiliation of being forced to pretend they were still just the best of friends. You’d never fathom how, night after night, one of them became less and less of a person. You’d never suspect the gigabytes of videos stored in one of their phones.

And you’d never assume the real reason these two beauties were at the mall was to scout the next victim. You’d see them walk up to the cute salesgirl, all smiles and banter, and think nothing of it- besides, maybe, such good friends.

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