#these also occur nearly every day

[haneulislearning]

Little Habits I Have Picked Up While Learning Korean

Some of these are strange and slightly unhinged, and more inside jokes between my friends and I since we are all in the same Korean program, but I just wanted to know if anyone else does the same:

Sometimes when writing I will start writing in Korean obviously, but I will randomly switch to English in the middle. Not even like the translation of the word, it will be like "언제n-" and I will write one letter in English and immediately catch myself. Idk why I do this, but it happens like every other day, and I've never used romanization before so idk where or why this started????

I will say something in English and then pause for a really long time and go "하지만-" and continue whatever I was saying in English.

When we learn loan words we often come up with our own "Korean equivalent" to them, because we think "elevator" just being "엘레베이터" is boring, so we call it "위아래방"

We are never silent. Everything needs a reaction. If someone doesn't go "아이고," "아~~~~," "그-," or make a hissing sound, they're not having a good day.

Word association of when someone is speaking in English, one of us immediately translates a word we know into Korean. "I went to the cafeteria-" "ahhh the 학교 식당"

Speaking Korean in a horrible American accent. Or any accent for that matter. Typing it out doesn't do it justice.

Integrate a single Korean word into our sentences or adding English conjugation to verbs. Some fave quotes of mine: "WE ARE AT 회사. WE DO 회사 THINGS." or "I was 춤 춰ing it up man." or the classic "We are gonna need a 쓰레기장 for all these 인간 쓰레기."

[gloomwitchwrites]

Missed Hints

King Thorin Oakenshield x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): fluff, light angst, humor, pregnancy, suggestive themes, fade to black, established relationship

Word Count: 1.8k

With the pregnancy confirmed, you decide to drop little hints until Thorin makes the connections.

A/N: for @protosslady

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist

“You’re pregnant, your majesty.”

Those two little words are enough to make time freeze. You are cold, a bit hesitant, and completely unbelieving of what you’re hearing.

“Are you sure?” you ask slowly, needing to know if you’ve heard her correctly.

The midwife, Lena, smiles broadly. “As sure as the sun rises in the morning. I’ve been doing this for close to thirty summers now. Rarely am I ever wrong.”

Lena’s assistant, Petal, matches Lena’s smile with one of her own. It is radiant and sunny, a stark difference from your sudden anxiousness. “This is wonderful news,” she exclaims. “King Thorin will be so pleased.”

“Indeed,” agrees Lena. “And so will the people when it’s formally announced.”

Both women sigh at the same time, but you are not nearly as excited as they are.

You and Thorin did try for a child many times in the beginning of your marriage. It was enthusiastic—and constant—but nothing ever came of it. While it bothered you, Thorin never seemed to care. He told you that all he wanted was you and that anything else was a bonus.

That is still true. Thorin loves you.

But Thorin is being pulled in a different direction. Erebor needs attention, and Thorin throws himself into service attempting to tackle every obstacle and difficulty on his own. Most nights, he comes to bed late—usually when you’re already asleep. When you wake, he is usually gone, off to take care of his abundant duties. They are piling up, becoming a burden. Thorin does too much, and while you admire him for his dedication, you miss him.

To know that you’re pregnant is a surprise. It’s not that you and Thorin haven’t been intimate, it’s just that it hasn’t been nearly as frequent as in the past. While Thorin is gone, you have your own duties and responsibilities. When the two of you do have quiet time together, intimacy is brief but passionate and almost always followed by the two of you falling asleep in each other’s arms.

“How far along?” you ask, trying to place exactly when it might have taken.

When your cycle never came, you didn’t think much of it. That happens sometimes. But then didn’t occur during the next expected timeframe. With its absence came irritability and random bouts of sudden crying you couldn’t explain. Certain foods smelt odd, and while you weren’t emptying the contents of your stomach, constant nausea made it difficult to complete daily tasks. You knew then that something was different. And now the midwife has confirmed it.

But even with an answer, you’re not sure how you feel.

“I’d place you at about ten weeks. Perhaps eleven,” answers Lena with a slight shrug of her shoulders.

“That far?” you squeak, wincing immediately with how upset you sound.

Lena and Petal’s smiles start to diminish. Their enthusiasm melts away, replaced with furrowed brows and soft lines of concern.

“Is everything all right? You look a bit faint?” Lena places her hand on your shoulder.

“Yes,” you reply, though it sounds like you’re gasping for air. “Surprised is all.”

Their smiles return but it’s subdued.

This is supposed to be a happy occasion. A child means an heir, and it also gives the people hope for the future. Much of Erebor is still in pieces from Smaug’s habitation. That doesn’t even begin to include all the damage and death from the battle. Dale, which was once abandoned and forgotten, is starting to see life again as well. The races of Men are returning to it, hoping to rekindle its long-extinguished flame.

A royal child is a symbol of hope. It’s a moment of celebration for everyone.

“I think a bit of rest for the remainder of the day will do you some good,” says Lena softly. “We will prepare some ointments that you can use to relieve any aches or pains. Bloating is likely, and as the body makes room for the little one, you’ll have some discomfort.” Lena taps her bottom lip and then turns to Petal. “We’ll need to prepare some liquid supplements to take with meals.”

“Of course,” nods Petal. She begins packing up their supplies.

Lena squeezes your shoulder before letting go. “I’ll come check on you in a few days. Bring a few things with me. We’ll talk more then, preferably with the father present.”

“Yes,” you reply, absently rubbing your belly. “That would be best.”

The two women bow and depart quickly, leaving you alone in the royal bedchambers. The room is quiet and your breathing sounds too loud in such a large space. With hands clasped, you twist them over and over again in agitation, needing to move but unsure of how to quell the anxiousness. It’s stubborn like the deep roots of a tree that refuse to give up the dirt.

How are you to tell Thorin? How do you approach this when you rarely see him. It’s just one more thing to burden him with. Perhaps, if you dropped a few hints? Covertly toss the pregnancy in his direction and see if he picks it up?

You know deep in your gut that you shouldn’t worry over this. Thorin will be happy. He will be.

You spend the rest of the day as Lena instructs. Reclining, resting, and reading. Thorin is supposed to return tonight for evening meal. Whenever he promises an early arrival, Thorin means it. Rarely does he make promises he cannot keep.

As dinner is brought in, and the table is set, Thorin walks through the door. There is a bit of soot on his cheek like he’s been in the mines, and his cheeks are slightly flushed. When he notices you, he beams, and there is so much love there that you simply want to melt into a puddle on the floor.

“My love,” he says, moving toward you swiftly. The embrace nearly sweeps you off your feet. He plants a kiss on your forehead and draws back.

“You’re filthy,” you laugh, looking him over. Thorin has been in the mines.

Thorin shrugs sheepishly. “I had to help dig. Structural issues.”

“Wash your hands at least,” you playfully tease.

“Not interested in eating a bit of dirt?” he asks with a laugh.

“Go,” you giggle, pushing away from him.

Thorin disappears and you take a seat at the table. He reappears a few minutes later, face and hands clean. The clothes he wore before are also gone, replaced with simple, fresh attire. He takes a seat next to you, gaze darting over the spread.

“I’m starving,” you begin because it’s true even though you’ve been consistently snacking all day. “It’s like I’m eating for two.”

First hint dropped.

Thorin laughs, and the sound is sweet like honey cake. “I promise, love. You couldn’t eat for me. My appetite is insatiable.” When Thorin says insatiable, he pointedly glances at you with a heated stare.

You perfectly understand his meaning.

You attempt a different angle. “I’ve also been having the oddest cravings,” you say, starting to load your plate.

“What do you mean?” asks Thorin before he pops a chunk of bread into his mouth.

“Different foods. Things I’d never eat together otherwise.” It is common knowledge that pregnant women will often crave highly specific foods and food combinations.

But Thorin doesn’t appear to pick up on the hint. He frowns, then shrugs, continuing to eat without making a comment.

Sighing, you pick up one the freshly made rolls. “I think these buns need a bit more time in the oven.” You stare hard at Thorin, mentally sending message after message. “What do you think?”

Thorin glances up at you then down at his own plate that has five of them. “I think they’re perfect but if you’d like them more done, I’ll let the kitchen know in the morning.”

“Thorin,” you say flatly.

“Yes, my love?” His head slightly tilts, and his gaze becomes pointed. He’s starting to pick up on your agitation. You don’t mean to be cross, but you were hoping that he’d figure it out so you wouldn’t have to tell him outright.

Setting the roll down on your plate, you promptly divert the conversation to a different hint. “We’ve never talked about where we’d put the nursery.”

Thorin’s brow rises toward his hairline. “I didn’t think you wanted to discuss that until we crossed that hurdle?”

Does he hear himself? Does he understand the context of what’s coming out of his mouth?

“You’re right, Thorin. I didn’t want to discuss it until we needed to.” You repeat his words back to him, slightly leaning toward him as you speak to emphasize the point.

Still, it brushes right over his head.

“Some of the advisory council members have brought up financial concerns. Rebuilding Erebor is important but the needs of the people are pressing. Food. Proper housing.” Thorin begins slicing into the chunk of roast on his plate.

Maybe you are going to have to say it outright.

Licking your lips, you ignore Thorin’s change in conversation. “I did receive a few inquiries about baby clothes. Offers to knit a few items,” you shrug.

“That’s kind of them,” says Thorin slowly. “But why—” he pauses, “you’re not—"

Thorin’s features suddenly shift, becoming almost unreadable. His jovial expression is gone, replaced with a stern consideration.

Are you going to have to shout it at the top of your lungs?

Thorin’s lips part. Promptly shuts. Opens again. “Are you…” he begins but does not finish.

You start to nod, urging him on.

Finally, like light igniting in the dark, Thorin’s face transforms into one of shock, then pure joy.

“Truly?”

“Found out just this morning.”

Thorin abruptly stands, pushing himself and his chair away from the table. He is moving toward you, grasping your hands, bringing them to his mouth to kiss your fingers.

“Why not say anything?” he asks.

“I did,” you laugh. “Many times.”

Thorin momentarily frowns before his mouth turns up into a soft smile. “Clever.”

“You’ve been busy and I was unsure of how to tell you.”

Thorin’s thumbs rub little circles over your knuckles. “You can always tell me anything. Whatever is happening. Whatever is on your mind. I wish to hear it.” He kisses the tops of your hands. “Especially something like this.”

“Are you happy?” you ask, voice cracking at the end.

“Happiest I’ve ever been.”

Thorin pulls you up from your chair, his large, muscled arm sliding behind your waist. He drags you to him, his eyelids lowering seductively, all gentleness leaving him to be replaced with desire.

“Are you up for a bit of celebrating?” he asks.

“What kind of celebrating?”

“The kind that landed us here.”

“Thorin,” you gasp, lightly slapping his chest. He snatches your wrist, kisses the pulse point there.

“The food can wait,” and his voice ends on a soft growl.

“Thorin,” you repeat, this time with a rasp to your tone.

He seizes it, draws you even closer. “The food can wait?”

You nod. “It can wait.”

taglist:

@foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @singleteapot @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @protosslady @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @cherryofdeath @mrsdurin @therealbloom @ninman82 @thewulf @ferns-fics @beebeechaos

[inknopewetrust]

𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐅𝐥𝐲

Summary: Tyler’s always wanted to show you something he loved—it just took some bad weather for it to appear. [Tyler Owens x Reader] [WC:2.6k}

Warnings: language, college-aged Tyler & reader, fluff, romance, this is a comedy? Idk folks. No smut though—sry :/. Just good ole fashion kissin’ in the rain. And what if I said this story was my real life experience, then what?

Quick Links: Masterlist [including other twisters fics]

“Where are we going?”

The tires of the truck were clunking along the rocky path to… well, nowhere. Thick trees surrounded you; the sun barely peeking through them as it began to decline in the sky and yet the truck kept tumbling along.

Shit. You thought for a brief moment as he didn’t reply. He might murder me.

“I told you,” his voice rang through your mind like a pinball machine. “It’s a surprise.”

“What if I said I didn’t like surprises?”

Tyler glanced at you as the truck hit a rough patch. Your hand was white-knuckling the grab handle above the window and your face was torn up in concern for the locale.

“I’d say, ‘honey’,” he put a hand on your clothed thigh. “I ain’t gonna murder you.”

“Well now that makes me think you are gonna murder me.”

Tyler laughed, squeezing your thigh joyously.

He was a maniac—Tyler Owens.

But he was also many things you did not know of yet. The first time you laid eyes on him was around eight months back when he walked in two minutes before the chemistry lecture. Every seat in the room was nearly filled except for the lone seat on the inside of the lecture hall beside you.

And when he sat there, you couldn’t focus on one goddamn thing.

It was silly—being twenty-one and having a crush on a guy in your science class. You weren’t in high school anymore but you sure as hell felt like it. When he asked for an eraser, you were too eager to provide it. One day he forgot his computer so he asked for some paper in the notebook you elected to use.

Each day you’d arrive a minute earlier than before with a childish hope that he would too and you’d be able to talk to him, learn about him. You weren’t in the same lab section so it was growing increasingly difficult to manifest a semblance of potential when it only occurred twice a week for an hour and fifteen minutes.

Fuck college schedules, is what you had concluded when he wouldn’t show up twenty minutes early to class.

Yet fate had a funny way of dictating what happens when.

Three months into class, your roommate suggested getting out and heading to a frat party one Saturday night and it shouldn’t have been a surprise to see him there. And out of some kindness, he went out of his way to say hi to his “lecture buddy” who’d helped him in times of need.

Every class that followed grew something in you. He came early to lecture to talk to you, joking about anything but the subject and going on and on about what he wanted to do when he graduated. His smile was contagious, as with his laugh. Bellowing and loud; Tyler Owens was everyone’s friend and everyone’s crush and you happened to be lucky enough to sit beside him until it was all over.

The semester ended and your interactions with Tyler ceased.

And it made you feel a little crazy for feeling down and out about your luck. Your roommates and friends tried everything to get you on the market: going to parties, joining strange clubs, playing trivia at the bar on Wednesday nights but nothing.

It was all nothing until something caught your eye.

You saw a flier for a meteorology seminar with a guest speaker from your local news. The premise wasn’t overly exciting for any one student at the university but for you, it was interesting enough to attend on a vacant Tuesday evening.

Like fate had promised before, it dealt you a winning hand.

Tyler spotted you as you walked through the door and waved you down. In your dumps, you forgot to think his attendance was a possibility even after he mentioned time and time again that he’d love to be on television, that he’d die to help people protect themselves.

So when he got ready to leave after the lecture, you weren’t going to die without facing a fear. You had to protect yourself from another six weeks of imaginary mourning and asked for his number.

And six weeks later you concluded he was going to murder you in some remote location in the plains of Arkansas.

“I’m not gonna murder you, alright?” He chuckled. His eyes were illuminated with a mischievous glow you couldn’t escape. You saw his eyes in dreams and knew you’d never want to imagine a day without them.

Fuck, you thought. It was way too early to be thinking of that.

“Then tell me!” You looked over at him with reason. “This road is so shitty I can’t imagine what’s on the other end!”

“Paradise, baby!” He smiled. “When I was a kid, my pops used to take me and my brother down here to go fishing. It’s this picnic area that I think,” he glanced at you with raised eyebrows, “no one else knows about. So don’t go runnin’ and tellin all them about this, ok?”

Oh.

It was personal.

“I won’t,” you promised.

“When my grandpa died I was,” he thought back on it as if it were long ago. “Nine and I came here with my mom and just sat. We stared out at the water and watched the ducks and the birds fly over until the sun went down. This was his spot and he passed it on to me.”

You suddenly felt an urge of regret pass over you as the comments from before soured.

“Tyler,” you said solemnly. “I didn’t—“

He brushed the nonverbal apology away.

“It’s alright,” he reassured. “There are plenty of reasons why you could have felt that way.”

It was heartwarming that Tyler didn’t dismiss your fears. There were so many guys, barely men, who would have called you crazy for a lot less. Tyler never made you feel that way.

Being with him was like chasing a high of the greatest strengths. Everything he did revolved around his ability to be free and willing to do what scared him the most and it was enchanting.

You could feel the sparks hit your heart.

“I’ve never taken anyone there before.”

“No?”

“You’d be the first.”

The two of you let that sit in the air as the road became more suitable for driving. The smoothness was welcome as his admission settled between you.

The first. He thought you special enough to be the first person to witness this place. You could have been ten feet tall at that moment. Never had anyone ever made you feel so special.

As the roads improved, the clearings of trees and bushes began to open up to a wider area with a paved lot on a taller hill.

It was beautiful.

Only the fairy tales could conjure a place like that. Billowing pines and lush greens on the bank of a river cut off by a large damn. The rushing water filled your ears amidst the squawking of wildlife uninterrupted by human activity.

It was so peaceful, charming.

The sun’s orange rays twinkled down onto the water and made it sparkle. Flowers in bloom, the buzzing of cicadas at the arrival of a hot and early spring warmed your cheeks as Tyler put the truck into park.

He watched you take in your surroundings of pure nature. A slight awe in your eyes, shallow breath at the sights. You were a vision in his favorite place.

“I thought we could have dinner here,” he tipped his head to the back seat where he had plastic Walmart bags full of food, unprepared and prepared for whatever fit your fancy. “And then, if we’re lucky, maybe it will rain.”

“Rain?” You turned to meet his eyes and they crinkled at the sides. Endearing, charming—just like this place.

Tyler hummed. “You mean to say you’ve never heard of rain?”

His words quickly became a joke. You rolled your eyes, hitting his chest with the back of your hand. It was solid under your touch and you were reminded that he was real. It wasn’t a fairytale and you were very much living it.

“Ha-ha,” you replied dryly.

“I’ll keep that one as a surprise.”

“I checked the weather before we left and,” you pointed to the sky. “No rain.”

Tyler unbuckled himself and opened his door.

“They just don’t see what I do.”

“And what’s that?” You asked him but he shut the door, moving to the backseat to take out the bags of items he procured, and then as ever the gentleman, opened your own door.

“Magic.”

You laughed but he was being serious. His eyes still gleamed with the same sly nature he was born with, but his touch was comfort. Hands carefully guiding you to a spot that he had meticulously planned out—even if this appeared to be a spur of the moment outing for you.

Everything was planned. Tyler wasn’t going to take just anyone to this spot. He’d be a fool to lie and say he hadn’t spoken to his mother about his plans just to hear her perspective on whether it was creepy, brilliant, or just plain sad.

However, he carried on to face his fears of bringing someone he liked to a place near-sacred to him. Tyler wasn’t a fool of love, he just hadn’t found anyone worth sharing these bits of him. And he also didn’t expect the feeling to come about so quickly.

Those fears he let simmer never truly came about in the reality he lived.

You were smitten. Absolutely fallen into this little spot in this tiny corner of the world with a man who was opening up before you. Tyler made the puzzle pieces of a perfect date fit together wonderfully.

The food, the drinks, the atmosphere—he hit an apex of the paragon of “partner,” “boyfriend,” or “lover.”

And you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face as the sun began to truly fade.

You took a sip of your drink, coming down from a high of laughter at a story Tyler shared at his brother’s detriment. The sky was a shimmering shade of reds and deepening blues now; orange melting away for the sake of night.

“No rain,” you pointed out. He shrugged his shoulders, moving from a lounging position on the worn blanket to a lying one. His arms perched behind his head.

Tyler stared at the stars beginning to form.

He could see the shapes of the clouds, the movement quickening and the air cooling. It was as special as this place, his talent for finding the storms. Whether they brew inside or out, he found them and chased them with a passion—unrelenting and fierce. He sought the thrill.

“The night’s not over yet,” he said coolly. “Don’t count me out.”

“I’m not counting you out,” you defended, moving scraps of discarded food away from you to lay next to him. You shuffled to get comfortable in his vicinity.

“How often do you stargaze?” Tyler asked.

“Not often. I don’t think there’s an opportunity for it when I have nowhere to go.”

He agreed with a grunt. “I think you’re lookin’ in the wrong spots, honey.”

Oh those godforsaken nicknames. The country in him seeped out at their mention.

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” he removed his arms from the back of his head and pointed to the now appearing stars the darker it became. “See here?”

You moved closer. “Not really.”

“There,” he pointed again. “Right there in the middle of those two clouds.”

There were two stories at play here: one of him proving that rain was coming in the guise of stars and the second of you trying to be aloof in order for him to touch you.

You’d spent the last hour with him. Watching him talk, eat, smile, and laugh at anything that brought him joy. Those lips begged you to kiss them. They beckoned you like a ship lost at sea and in the clouds, the water would find it.

You shook your head innocently.

“I don’t know what I’m looking at, Ty.”

“Here,” he took your hand in his and pointed to the stars. “Look.”

In the sky above, a faint outline of the Little Dipper appeared in your vision. You smiled lightly. His hand with his finger pointing was still outstretched and connected to yours which made it grow wider.

You were giddy.

Tyler moved his finger to fully cup your hand but as you kept looking at the sky, he looked at you. You could feel his eyes on you, the turn of his face and the low breaths he released through his nose.

“What else do you see?” He asked lowly.

You breathed in deeply. It was just too beautiful to explain one thing. The clouds grew thicker, dense in the night as light was swallowed up by the moon. The air was now cool enough to send a chill down your spine and wish the blanket was more than a thin excuse for a sheet.

“It’s getting cloudy,” you observed. “There are more stars and it’s cooling off.”

“Anything else?”

“It’s just beautiful.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “It is.”

“I’m can—“

You stopped mid-sentence at the sensation that hit your cheek.

It wasn’t air or breath or a bug or grass but a wetness that could have come from only one place: the sky. You waited for another to fall and it did not a second later. A third and fourth drop followed until it was a hundred drops or more into a steady downpour.

You scoffed in disbelief, sitting up to feel the rain in your palms and Tyler sat up too. His laugh was one of joy that followed yours.

“Oh my god!” You exclaimed as the water began to drench the area around you and your clothes.

“I told you!” Tyler shouted over the rain falling harder and harder. You blinked at him.

“How’d you know!?”

“Just did!”

“And what’s so magical about getting rained on?” You asked him.

He didn’t have a solid plan if it rained. All he knew is that he had seen this in the movies. A downpour catches two people in the rain and it creates one thing: magic. It’s innocent and daring, carefree and transparent. Rain makes lovers fall in love. It binds them to one spot, one moment in time where all the elements line up to craft one singular point that would forever be cemented in their memory.

“I don’t know,” he confessed.

Tyler positioned one hand to lean on behind your back while the other cupped your face. The rain dropped onto his hand but you were warm against the coldness of his hands. Your eyes glistened at him as the movies described.

“I don’t know what’s so magical about it.”

“Me either.”

“Can you kiss me?” You asked him. It wasn’t a question, per se. He was going to kiss you.

Tyler nodded his head, leaning in to meet your lips as the rain fell harder around you both. The sound of the rain disappeared when his lips met yours. Only the beat of your heart, the rush of your blood flooded your ears and body. You lifted a hand to grip his arm as he tilted his head, using his leverage to position you the way he wanted and deepened the kiss.

You could feel the tendrils of a story weaving in your bones. The place, the time, the kiss… it was a fairytale.

You dropped everything and kissed him in the pouring rain in a spot now forever implanted in your history, you felt the sparks fly higher.

A/N: thanks for reading! As always comments, reblog, and likes are always appreciated. I love hearing from all of you and your reactions motivate us greatly!

[tomriddleslove]

What’s left of me?

✩Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Summary: The one where your pursuit for excellence leads you down a path of self destruction, and you’re slowly loosing yourself. You didn’t expect a certain boy in your year would be your saving grace. Alternatively: Mattheo makes you realise you’re more than what you think you are.

A/N: I guess this could very easily be like a prequel to the other mattheo one shot ‘i’m here’. This is definitely a bit self indulgent but we all have our things 😻😻

Warnings: Allusions to overdosing (brief), mentions of not eating.

Songs: Nothings New - Rio Romeo

18 days.

18 days till you would be finished with all of this.

Technically, it would actually be 408 days till you finished school and graduated from this godforsaken place, but 18 more till you finished with exams.

You weren’t sure how many more hours you could spend hunched over indecipherable handwriting, pouring over text till your eyes stung and your back ached. Surrounded by a stack of books and rolls of parchment, you couldn’t even begin to figure out where you ended and the library began. You had taken up a huge table (that could seat at least 4) for the better part of 17 hours, sat on the same chair since 6:00 am.

You stifle a small groan of pain as you roll your wrist, stiff and sore from the hell that was ancient runes.

There are ink splotches all over your skin, and you’re sure the amount of work you were pouring into this stopped being effective nearly 5 hours ago.

Your eyes flicker up and scan over the once-packed library that had slowly dwindled down to a few students, half of whom were in the same boat as you.

To you, being the last person in the library was a huge sign of success. It meant you were more dedicated and more hard-working.

In reality, the truth couldn’t be any further from that, but in your mind, if you weren’t milking yourself over every last piece of work it simply wasn’t being done right.

The hushed murmurs and sounds of parchment being unfurled fade into the background as your quill scratches furiously against the parchment, mind running at a million miles an hour.

You ignore the pang in your stomach as you work; you haven’t eaten today. You didn’t want to get up at any point to get food, for fear of your place being taken.

Now, you didn’t want to get up for another reason. It was well past the library's open hours and Madame Pince was angrily fussing about, bustling around everyone as she got them to leave. A testament to how long you had been there, she didn’t even seem to notice you, and you were worried getting up and walking about would break this sort of invisibility shield you had going on.

Come to think of it, you hadn’t really drunk any water either. You brought your bottle with you but had forgotten to fill it up. It was fine though, the human body could last for 3 days without water - it could wait. Your upcoming exams were far more important.

In Scandinavia, the Elder Futhark remained in use until some time around the eighth century (the time of the Eddas), when drastic changes in the Old Norse language occurred, and corresponding changes in the runic alphabet were made to accommodate the new sounds. However, unlike the Anglo-Saxon Futhorc, the Younger Futhark (as it is now called) reduced the number of runes from 24 to 16, and several runes came to represent multiple sounds. The forms of the runes were also changed and simplified.

Gods, you couldn't take this anymore. You felt sick and exhausted. You ignore the hunger that gnaws at your stomach, rubbing a hand over your face as you contemplate finishing off and going to bed.

But every time you think of stopping a horrible feeling emerges in your stomach, consuming you with anxiety. The weight of impending exams and the fear of not doing well gnawing at your determination. You glance at the clock, realizing it's well past midnight, and the library is now completely empty except for you.

Madame Pince, finally noticing your presence, approaches with a disapproving look. "You know, the library does close at a certain hour. I can't have students staying here all night," she scolds, but her tone softens as she sees the exhaustion in your eyes.

“Sorry. I lost track of time” You mumble, haphazardly cramming your stuff into your bag. You get up, and the room spins for a second. You stumble but manage to catch yourself, holding onto the table as Madam Pince reaches out a hand to help you recover.

“You need to take care of yourself. No exam is worth this much stress,” She says, eyeing you with concern. If only she knew how far that was from the truth. You felt as though you had so little to your name. Performing well, overachieing. That was what you were known for. It was the only thing you felt was yours. Everyone else had character, they were distinctly themselves. They had hobbies, interests, and friendships that defined them. But for you, it was always about excelling academically. Without that, you became nobody. You were no more than the number on your papers, and the reminder weighed down on you like an unrelenting burden.

By some miracle you manage to stumble down the empty halls of the castle into the Slytherin common room, which seemed paradoxically warm considering its grandiose stone structure and dark, moody lighting. You carelessly drop your bag onto a table closest to the fireplace, trudging up to your room as you battle the sleep that threatens to consume you.

It's dark, and your roommates have long gone to bed.

“Lumos” You murmur, hiding the blinding light that emerges from the tip of your wand with the lining of your school robes, dimming it slightly. You grope blindly at your bedside drawer, stopping when you feel the familiar smooth glass bottle, that fits perfectly in your palm. You slip it into the pocket of your robes, slowly shutting the drawer as you make your way back down to the common room. You dismiss the light that shines from your wand, tossing it onto the sofa as you take a seat on the floor, in front of the low table. You read the instructions on the back of the small bottle as if you hadn’t been consuming this religiously for the past month.

Wideye potion User Guidance:

Take no more than one teaspoon every 6 hours. Effects will last for up to 8 hours. Excessive use of this potion may lead to adverse effects, and in rare cases, severe bodily harm. Users are advised not to use the maximum dosage for a consecutive 72 hours.

You’ve read it so many times, you were sure you could recite it by heart. Choosing not to heed any warnings, you pop open the cork and down the whole bottle in one go. The rancid taste of the potion burns, eliciting a shudder down your spine as you swallow down the bile that threatens to emerge. Pocketing the empty glass bottle, you stretch your arms before retrieving your books, ready to continue working.

If you were lucky, the potion might give you a boost of energy for about 3 hours or so. You had been taking it so much you had developed a sort of immunity to it, and the effects were not as potent as they used to be. The sacrifice of your well-being for the sake of productivity had become a routine, a desperate attempt to squeeze every ounce of time and focus out of your exhausted mind and body.

You have attempted to brew a stronger concoction, in the misplaced hopes that increasing the potency would counteract the effect of the immunity. However, the violent cramps and palpitations it had given you very quickly told you that wouldn't work.

You knew it was bad. It was causing irreversible damage to your body, killing you at worst. It simply wasn't sustainable. But you couldn't drag yourself out of that mindset.

Failure. Nobody.

You gritted your teeth and carried on working.

You managed to get through another potions essay, and the time on your watch read 1:00 am.

You could carry on for longer, right?

You zone out for a second, staring off at the orange embers that emerged from the fireplace, shining bright for what seemed like a millisecond before falling to the floor, turning into nothing but ash.

The orange embers flicker, and for a moment, you see yourself in them – a fleeting brightness that threatens to be extinguished. The battle between ambition and self-preservation rages on as you grit your teeth and carry on working, oblivious to the embers slowly falling into nothingness, much like your own fading sense of self.

“Why on earth are you up at this hour doing work?” A voice calls from behind you, and the momentary intrusion shocks you, sending a burst of energy through you as you spin around.

Flopping down onto the sofa next to you, leaning back with his legs lazily outstretched, was none other than Mattheo Riddle. Clad in a plain grey sweatshirt and black jeans, he eyes you with curiosity, smelling distinctively of smoke. He had most likely been out, as he so usually was at this hour. You shrug, turning back to your work.

“Exams. Need to revise” You mumble, voice cracking. You swallow, massaging your dry throat as you grimace, trying to get back to your writing.

“Revise? Merlin, you're the smartest person in our year. You don't need to be revising” Matthep leans forward, plucking a piece of parchment from your pile and examining it with a raised eyebrow.

You snatch it back, a protective instinct kicking in despite the fatigue. You hated that sentiment. Despised it, even. People always assumed your performance came naturally. That you were simply born with the ability to do well. No one seemed to consider what you had to do to get to that point, how you wore yourself down, day in and day out, till you either passed out from exhaustion or pain, neglecting your most basic needs.

"I might be the 'smartest' person, but that doesn't mean I can afford to slack off," you reply, a hint of frustration in your voice. The adrenaline from the sudden interruption starts to ebb away, leaving you feeling even more drained.

Mattheo leans back, momentarily caught off guard by your defensiveness. He had never seen you this on edge. He was so accustomed to seeing you as this familiar presence during the school day his partner for the many lessons that he didn’t have his friends in. The two of you would work together and on rare occasions, hang out with one another in the common room as well. It was a rather unlikely duo, the king of Slytherin and the academic prodigy. Yet, More often than not Mattheo found himself seeking out your presence. He never admitted it outright, but he hugely admired you. Your intelligence, your drive, it all captivated him. There were times when he hoped he could be only half the person you were.

How funny it was, for you felt the very same thing when you saw him. He seemed content. Happy. He was loved by nearly everyone. Popular, with a fun social life. He had everything you wanted without putting in any of the work.

You wanted to be like him. But you weren’t. And if you wanted anything like what he had, you had to work damn hard for it. So that's what you did. With a small sigh, you turn back to your work.

“Hey,” He says gently, his voice softening slightly. "I’m sorry. I say stupid things sometimes.” He apologies, brows furrowed as he looks at your back facing him.

“It's fine. I should be saying sorry. You didn't say anything, I just…. I’m just a bit tired, that's all.” You mumble, apologising as you get up. You stretch, a yawn escaping your lips as you wearily rub your eyes.

“I'm gonna run up to my room and grab some more parchment. I’ll be down in a second,” You say, shrugging off your school robe as you turn to walk away. You ascend the stairs leading to your dorm, tossing your robe onto the sofa next to Mattheo as you do so.

Your robe slides off the sofa and hits the floor, a faint clinking sound echoing through the empty room as you disappear.

Curious, Mattheo looks down at your carelessly discarded robe. He reaches down, picking it up. It weighs heavier than it should be, and Mattheo can't help but feel a twinge of curiosity, He eyes the now empty staircase before reaching into your pocket, fingers brushing against a smooth glass vial.

Not just one, but a few.

Frowning, he turns out your pocket, and four identical glass vials tumble into his lap. Picking one up, his frown only deepens as he reads the label.

“Wideye potion?” He mutters to himself, the confusion on his face morphing into something else as the pieces fit in place.

He had admired you for your intelligence and drive, and now he was confronted with the reality of your struggles. The contrast between your achievements and the seemingly carefree moments he sought with you becomes stark. He berates himself for not having noticed early, for having let you fall down such a destructive path.

Jaw clenched, he gazes at the piles of books you had been working through, rolling the empty vials between his fingers as the sound of your approaching footsteps snaps him out of his thoughts.

You pause in confusion, noticing the scrutinising depression plastered on his face as he looks up at you, rolls of parchment bundled in your hands.

"What's the Wideye potion for?" Mattheo questions, his voice cutting through the silence with an uncomfortable heaviness. He holds up the empty vials as evidence, his gaze piercing through the exhaustion in your eyes.

Caught off guard by the confrontation, you glance down at the vials and then meet Mattheo's eyes. A brief moment of silence hangs in the air, the crackling embers of the fireplace filling the empty silence.

“Research. For uh, potions.” You respond, internally berating yourself for coming up with such a weak excuse.

Mattheo's expression remains stern, a mix of frustration and genuine concern etched on his face.

"Don't bullshit me," he says, his tone direct and uncompromising. "I found these in your pocket, and 'potions research' is a shit excuse. I’m going to ask you again. What’s the wideye potion for?"

You shift uncomfortably, feeling small under his scrutinising gaze You clear your throat, speaking.

"It's just to stay awake, you know? To keep going. I only take it in extreme circumstances" you explain, your voice betraying the exhaustion that has settled in.

Mattheos jaw clenches, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he looks to the side with a sigh, visibly frustrated.

“Extreme? And what would that be, hmm? Because right now I'm looking at four empty bottles, and God knows how many more you’ve thrown away.” He snaps, his expression softening as he looks at you.

You feel a lump forming in your throat as you struggle to find the right words. Why on earth were you close to tears? Why did you feel like crying?

“I-” You start, trailing off as you stare at the floor.

Mattheo cuts through the silence, his tone still stern but laced with concern. "This isn't okay. You're smart, and you know better. You can't keep doing this to yourself. What if something happens? What if you collapse or get seriously sick? It's not worth it."

After a moment, Mattheo's expression softens, and he exhales deeply. "When was the last time you ate?" he asks, the concern evident in his voice.

Shit.

You pause, hesitating before admitting quietly, "Breakfast...yesterday."

Mattheo's features tighten at your admission, his eyes reflecting a mixture of frustration, anger, and genuine worry. He rises from his seat and strides towards you, his footsteps echoing in the otherwise silent room.

"Yesterday? Are you serious?" he says sharply, his voice carrying a weight of both concern and disbelief.

You remain silent, unable to meet his eyes, feeling the shame and vulnerability washing over you.

“Seriously? Fuck, what’s wrong with you? Why would you do that to yourself?” He chastises you, and you snap.

“I have to! You don't fucking get it, do you? I don't have anything else to fall back on.” You start, dropping the parchment onto the table in front of you.

Mattheo's expression shifts from concern to confusion as you lash out. "What are you talking about? You have plenty more than just academics. You're talented, you're smart, and people care about you. Why are you reducing yourself to just grades?"

You scoff, a bitter smile playing on your lips. "Talented? Smart? What does that even mean? It's just a facade, a cover-up for the fact that without these achievements, I'm nothing. I don't have friends; I don't have hobbies or interests. What am I without my grades?"

Mattheo tries to interject, "You're a person with-"

But you cut him off, "No, you don't get it! I'm just a number, a ranking, a test score. Everything I am is tied to how well I perform academically. Do you know what it's like to feel like the only thing you're good at is studying, and even that's slipping away?" You snap anger evident in your tone as you spin around to face him, your weary eyes meeting his.

“It’s the same thing every single day. I wake up, bury myself in books, and push myself to the brink just to feel like I matter. I don't eat, I don't sleep, I don't talk to anyone. I’ve spent my whole life isolating myself and neglecting my most basic needs for this! If I stop now, then what's left of me?”

Tears start to well up in your eyes, and you hate yourself for showing such vulnerability. Mattheo's stern demeanour softens as he watches you unravel.

"I can't stop, Mattheo. I can't afford to. Because if I do, what's left of me?" Your voice trembles.

Mattheo's heart drops at your words, guilt and hurt clawing at his insides. He can’t fathom the idea of you suffering so much, and him being blind to it. How could you not notice how incredible of a person you are beyond all of this? He’d give anything in the world for you to see yourself through his eyes. For you to feel the way he feels when he's with you, even for a second. To know that he’d do anything you asked him to because he cared for you. Not the one who gets outstanding on all their tests.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Mattheo finally speaks, his voice softer, genuine concern written across his face.

You shake your head, a mix of frustration and desperation in your eyes. “Because you wouldn’t understand. No one does. They just see the grades, the perfect student. They don’t see the mess behind it all. And I can’t let them. I can’t let anyone see me like this.”

Mattheo moves closer, his expression shifting. “You’re wrong. I do understand. Maybe not completely, but I want to. You don’t have to face this alone.”

You scoff, wiping away a tear. “Why? What do you care? You have everything, popularity, friends, a life. I’m just the study partner, the smart one. I can’t burden you with this.”

Mattheo remains silent for a second, before he speaks.

“Every other Sunday, you go down to Hogsmesde and buy a hamper of sweets form Honeydukes. You take it to the children’s school and volunteer there for an hour. Everytime you visit, you make their day.” He starts.

"You're not just grades," he says, his voice gentle. "You have quirks that make you who you are. Like the way you absentmindedly tap your foot when you're deep in thought. Or how you always carry a small notebook, and I bet it's filled with more than just class notes. I've seen you doodle in the margins."

He continues, "You have a wicked sense of humor, even if you don't show it to everyone. I've heard you snort-laugh during our study sessions. And don't even get me started on your taste in music.How you call that dastardly jazz music, i’ll never understand, but you can’t resist humming along to the tunes of the Wizarding Wireless Network when you're studying. Your fondness for Chocolate Frogs and your inexplicable aversion to pumpkin juice.”

Mattheo's eyes light up, a small smile tugging at his lips as he recalls more details. "Remember that time in Charms class when you made your quill dance across the room just to see if you could do it? Or when you brewed a prank potion that turned the water in the Prefects' bathroom blue for a week? You have a mischievous side that not many people get to see." He continues, looking down at you sincerely. He remains silent for a second, eyes scanning over your face before he steps back, sighing.

“I don’t know how to do this emotional, sappy bullshit. I don’t do it. But with you, I do. I want to. Other people want to. That’s what you do.” He says, voice quiet.

You remain rooted to your spot, somewhere between disbelief and gratitude as you stare up at Mattheo. How did he know all that? Why did he know all that?

“You noticed?” You speak up, voice alarmingly quiet.

He looks at you as though you’ve just asked him whether the sky is blue.

“Of course i’ve noticed. It’s impossible not to.” He murmurs, and you know he’s being honest.

Tears prick in your eyes again, and it’s as though all that exhaustion and neglect has come crashing back down on you tenfold after Mattheo had called you out. You try blink them away but alas, you simply couldn’t. Before you can even say anything, Mattheo steps forward, pulling you into his chest as he wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. He holds you tightly, not even entertaining the thought of letting go as your tears soak his sweatshirt, tentatively accepting his embrace. His heart clenches at every tear that falls from your eyes, and he can’t tell if he’s horrified or accepting of the fact that he’d give up everything to relieve you of your burdens, even if only for a day.

He rubs your back soothingly, and you can’t help but let it all out.

It’s rather cathartic, really, because you've held onto this weight for so long, and now, in Mattheo's arms, it feels like a moment of release.

As your tears eventually subside, you pull back, both embarrassed and utterly shattered. You look down, sniffling as you wipe away your tear stained eyes when Mattheo hooks a finger under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

People often said that the eyes were a window to the soul. You never really understood that, but in this moment, you felt as though you were gazing into the very depths of Mattheos being.

With a tenderness that betrays the boundaries of ‘just friends’ , he wipes away your tears with his thumb, looking down at you.

“Come on. Let’s get you up to rest, yeah?” He hums, quietly. You nod, having to tear yourself away from his touch.

He leans down to pack away your stuff, not letting you handle a thing as he throws your stuff over his shoulder.

“You can stay in my room, if you’d like. Theodore’s out for the night so I can take his bed.” Mattheo says.

You consider it for a second. You didn’t particularly fancy heading up to your room with Mattheo, for fear of your roommate awakening to see you in such a state. You nod, speaking.

“Yes please.” You say, voice embarrassingly hoarse from having cried so much. You pray Mattheo didn’t notice.

Of course he did. But, he chose not to draw attention to it, instead resolving to run down to the kitchen to get you a cup of tea.

You follow Mattheo into his room, which you were no stranger to. Having projects together meant endless hours of collaborating, and opting to avoid being pestered by your roommate and her friends (who had a rather amusing infatuation with Mattheo), you worked in his room instead.

“Help yourself to some clothes if you’d like. They’re on the right.” He says, carefully draping your school bag and robe onto one of the desks. You thank him, smiling softly as he cleans the mess he had left.

“Go lie down. I’ll be back in a second” He says, turning away as he exits his room. Swiftly walking down to the kitchen, his head is reeling with thoughts of you.

He chose not to confront the feeling gnawing at him in light of your breakdown. He didn’t want to deal with that just yet. In no less than 10 minutes he’s carefully treading up the stairs to the dorms once more, a cup of chamomile tea in one hand and some small crackers in the other.

You hadn’t been eating, nor drinking, and the idea of you neglecting yourself so much sent Mattheo into an uncomfortable state where he found himself riddled with anxiety.

Just friends, right?

He clicks open the door to his room with his elbow, precariously walking over with the tea and crackers in hand as he goes to set them down on his bedside table. His eyes flicker over to you, and a small smile tugs at his lips as he sees you already fast asleep, curled up under the covers. The sight of your slumber brings a warmth to Mattheo's heart. He watches you for a moment, taking in the soft rise and fall of your breath, the delicate features that are usually tense with stress now softened in sleep.

The sight brings him more peace than he wishes to admit, and the looming reality that he had to eventually confront only pressed down on him further.

But for now, he didn’t care.

Because in your peace, he found happiness. And he’s sure he’d never find anything else more beautiful.

Possessed by a wave of sentiment that betrays his usual self, he can’t resist reaching out to tuck a stand of misplaced hair behind your ear. Before he can even comprehend what he’s doing, he leans down and presses a soft , brief kiss to your forehead.

He pulls back and finds himself slightly taken aback by his own actions. The quiet room, filled only with the soft sounds of your sleep, almost seems to amplify the beating of his heart.

Mattheo stands there for a moment, looking at you with a mix of tenderness and confusion. Then, shaking off the unexpected surge of emotions, he retreats to Theodores bed , slipping out of his clothes as he goes to lay down. He had to resist the urge to turn around and catch a glimpse of you once again, and lets out a small sigh as he shuts his eyes.

Mattheo Riddle was not a man of sentiment. He was not soft, and he most certainly did not go out of his way for others.

You had changed that. And he couldn’t figure out whether the prospect was one he was ready to welcome.

[l-uminescent]

˚⁀➷｡˚ FISHERMAN ━━━ LUCERYS VELARYON X FEM! READER

synopsis: after the events of storm's end, the seven kingdoms of westeros believe lucerys velaryon to be dead. brutality murdered at the hands of aemond targaryen, the dance of the dragon inevitability follows. however, what the targaryen's don't realise is that luke washed up on the shores of tarth. alive.no memory other than his first name and a love of the oceans he becomes a fisherman, falling in love with you in the process.

notes: genuinely don’t think i can write anything that isn’t at least somewhat angsty anymore. this theory also makes me ugly cry omg, i miss luke. speaking of, he’s been aged up to 19! also, if anyone wants to be hotd besties my chat box is calling!

warnings: angst, fluff, feelings of loneliness alluding to depression, mentions of violence, death and blood.

word count: 3.9k

THE EVENTS OF STORM'S END HAD BECOME COMMON KNOWLEDGE ACROSS THE SEVEN KINGDOMS OF WESTEROS. screams of 'kinslayer' echoed across the realm after the cruel death lucerys velaryon received at the hands of his uncle aemond targaryen had been revealed. as a result, his death saw many rushing to support rhaenyra targaryen's claim, turning their backs to the greens in disgust and inevitability contributing to the blacks winning the war. 

unbeknownst to anyone, lucerys velaryon had survived. it was a miracle by the gods how he had evaded the bloodied teeth of vhagar, who had viciously ripped into arrax's poor unsuspecting neck. the plummeting fall of both boy and dragon was sure to solidify their deaths, however in their final moments the young dragon was able to shield his rider from the full effects of the vast ocean. as much a bastard as lucerys was, the water had favoured him that day. allowing his unconscious body to be rocked between waves, he ended up washing up on the shores of tarth. sadly the waves were not so kind to the body of arrax, as he arrived a broken mess at the cliffs of storm's end, completely riderless. 

lucerys velaryon, woke up with a thudding in his head and an ache in his bones nearly a moon after aemond targaryen had been branded a kinslayer. how he managed to survive the cruel nature of the ocean, with nothing to sustain him remained unknown (it is suspected that house velaryon may have ran through his veins after all.) he had little to no memory of the events that had occurred —waking up only with the name 'luke' and a feeling of sincere gratitude for the ocean. 

as the years passed, luke had settled, making a home in a small fishing village, earning a living in providing food for the people he lived near. his memories began to return to him after a while but he made no effort in returning to the targaryen's. with only money to afford a small hut and enough food to survive, he had no means of making the journey back to dragonstone or king's landing, as he heard his mother had taken seat upon the iron throne. he now lived a lonely life, one in which he forced the effects of the war to play little on his mind. even still that didn't stop the ache in his heart that yearned for his family as the loneliness he returned to every night was an unfulfilling replacement.

you on the other hand, had convinced yourself that you favoured the loneliness your little hut you shared with your uncle had to offer. it was located at a decent distance from the bustling docks, giving you peace. you adored your uncle, but he was always off at sea fishing, never staying more for a few days at a time. nevertheless,your heart yearned for something more in life than what you had. you wanted friends, family, love; something that solitude couldn't give you. you spent your days selling fish for your uncle's business. you enjoyed the hard work, it kept your mind from thinking of how alone you felt. your uncle had entrusted you with this, saying that a pretty face would encourage many to buy off you, before he set sail again across the water's to gain more from the ocean to put money in both yours and his pockets. allowing you to keep half of his earnings, it was more than enough to buy you a small home of your own that was always kept warm, and food in your belly to keep you alive. 

as the sun rose from the east illuminating the blue embers of the ocean, you arose to start another days work of selling fish. it had come to your attention in recent moons, that your uncle's business was not doing as well as it had done in previous years. and you had your suspicions that this was due to a  curly haired brunette boy who had appeared a few years ago.

you had yet to see the boy, but you had heard whispers that he was a natural at  sea. and at only the age of ten and nine, he was able to set sail  on his lonesome and acquire more than enough fish in a day than your uncle was able to in a week. distaste bubbled in your stomach at the boy stealing business from you. you brushed these thoughts aside as you readied yourself, if he stuck to the other side of the village than there would be no problems between the two of you.

setting off to work, your stall gleamed with delight as you opened it for another day of work. the bustling crowds however, were no where to be seen that day. something was off. pulling on your cloak, you ventured onto the creaky boards in hopes of working out why business was so dead today.

and alas you found the reason.

crowds gathered around another stall only mere metres away from yours. and as you peered in an attempt to work out who had stolen your customers your eyes met with that of a brown mop of hair. it was the boy, luke,you had heard so much about. he was a lot prettier than you had expected. standing tall, the brunette's hair fell just above his eyes, freckles adorned his tanned cheeks, splattered unevenly like the stars that hung over tarth at the hour of the bat. his eyes matched his hair perfectly, coffee coloured orbs flickered from customer to customer as he tried to keep up with the many orders he was receiving. 

with a grumble, you made your way over to luke's stall. pushing past the fierce crowds proved a hard task but it wasn't long until you managed to make your way past as you ducked and dodged the villagers. 

now coming face to face with the boy, you were able to appreciate him a lot more. he had an air of beauty that seemed all so foreign to you, almost otherworldly which intrigued you greatly. nevertheless, you refused to let this distract you from what you had came to do. 

"you stole my business." you stated above the chatter of the men next to you who were keen on ordering the fresh cod brought in. 

luke's eyes flickered over to you for a second, deeming your words not worthy for a response as he had plenty of hungry customers to feed. who were you to say he was stealing? after all, he deserved to make a living just as much as you. 

you were far from disheartened at his attempt of ignoring you instead, it fanned the anger that grew as the seconds passed. you weren't giving up without a fight. "helloo! i was talking to you." you spoke louder than before.

"what?" he snapped, clearly annoyed at the disruption of his work. 

a sigh escaped your lips at his rudeness. "you stole my business. i do not know what you intended to happen when you moved to my side of the village, but i surely do not appreciate the lack of customers i'm receiving because of your ignorance." as you spoke, your voice got even louder as you grew more frustrated, almost as if you were shouting. the boy's clear lack of care annoyed you to no end as he just stared at you blankly before a smirk adorned his lips. 

"s'not my fault my fish is nicer than yours." 

the rage that took hold left you a stuttering mess as you struggled for a reply to his response. your reddened cheeks that were once filled with fire, quickly turned a dusty pink at the embarrassment you felt at your feeble attempt of talking. before you could make matters worse with your blubbering, you turned away from the fisherman and grumbled the entire way back to your own stall, thinking of what you could of said in return as you began to calm down. gods how you hated him.

━━━━━━━━━━ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ━━━━━━━━━

as the moons passed, it appeared that you and luke had built up some sort of petty rivalry, an odd friendship forming as a result, much to the villages enjoyment. you each strove to make more money than the other in a day, with many of the villagers placing bets on who would win. it annoyed you to no end on the days when you saw that the brunette had attracted the most customers. 

as the sun began to set once more across the waters, you could not help having a satisfied smirk on your face, a gloating look in your eye as you came face to face with the boy after another days work. one in which saw your uncle's fishery the winner.

"come to declare yourself the loser?" you called out, shutting up your stall for the day. "or have you come to admit that my fish is better. either or, it means i am the better out of the two of us."

luke let out a small chuckle at your bragging, he would never admit it but the rivalry between the two of you often brought a small smile to his face. "you would love that."

you let out a laugh in response at his sarcasm, running your tongue over your lips. just as he, you would never admit to anyone that you too enjoyed the odd friendship that blossomed with the boy, putting it down to having a small crush on the brunette. but who could you blame you, he wasn't exactly bad looking. he held such an ethereal, elegant aura. and you knew it to be an opinion thought by many, as you often overheard sailor's daughter's gossiping about his looks, comparing his nature to what they imagined the targaryen royalty to be like. 

"no. i have come to show you something." 

luke was like an open book most of the time, easy to read as he tried to suppress the small smirk that he fought hard to not wear. looking at him to continue, he grabbed your hand, pulling you behind him as he weaved between the other men and women who were closing up shop for the day. your face heating at the action, your heart beat doubling as your hand was in his calloused one. damn the gods for making him gorgeous.

pulling you further, the two of you crossed the wooden planks that were the only thing separating your feet from the ocean below. luke came to a stop abruptly, dropping your hand in the process. you couldn't help but feel a tad disappointed at the action. the feeling evident on your face, as he looked upon you with confusion in his eyes.

unknown to your oblivious mind, the boy seemed to harbour the affection you held for him. what started off as a small acknowledgment of your beauty when he first laid eyes on you quickly festered into something more. your witty and sarcastic nature, drew him closer to you. he found himself looking forward to working as he rose each day knowing that by the end, you two would inevitably end up talking due to the 'rivalry' that was established. 

at this revelation, he vowed that he would end this childish war between the two of you. luke did not seem to have many friends, only the people he fished with and even then he only deemed these people as acquaintances. since the divide in his family and being brutally torn from those he loved, luke yearned for the comfort of another, his heart wrenching at the thought of his family. he found himself craving his mother's warm touch on particularly cold nights, how she lulled him to sleep with her stories of targaryen history when the storms of dragonstone frightened his younger self. gods, he even missed her scoldings. he would do anything to relive the stern telling off he would receive if he appeared to dine with his hair a mess, if it meant being with her another day. his heart also longed for his elder brother, the endless teasing for being an awful sword fighter played on his mind whenever he lifted a blade. jacaerys' strong-willed and hot-tempered nature was also a feature evident in you. it brought a sense of solace whenever you fought, causing him to wear a soft smile as he reflected on the petty arguments with his brother. you seemed to embody all the good things of his past life. and he would be damned to let that go.

luke picked up quickly the skill of reading people in order to survive after he woke up on tarth. how their little habits lead to their true motivations and how their eyes often conveyed the feelings they tried so hard to hide. he saw this in you. despite building your walls high, presenting a hard exterior to assure that you were perfectly capable surviving on your own, he saw the distress within. after observing you for quite some time during your rivalry, he intended to find the ladder to climb over the walls you had spent so long constructing. he noted how you were often by yourself. independent yes, but he also saw the glint of loneliness in your eyes as they lingered a second too long on groups of friends and families who cared for one another. he knew you had your uncle, but he was away so often at sea that you barely saw the man. luke wanted to be that sense of escape for you. he believed that together, you could each provide some sort of comfort for the other, and he was determined to make this reality.

"hurry up then." playfulness dripped from your tone, breaking him out of his thoughts. his left hand came to hold the back of his neck in embarrassment for having been caught lost in thought about you.

luke had brought you to what appeared to be some sort of a pond. it was truly magnificent in your eyes. you had no idea a place like this existed so close to the docks you resided near. 

willow trees stretched far, their weeping leaves swaying effortlessly in the salty breeze that brushed past. as the two of you ventured closer you noticed that towards the edges of the pond, plants grew freely around it, obscuring the full vastness of the water. as the sun set, it made the sight in front of you even more wondrous. hues of purple blue and orange were reflected on the surface, only to be disrupted moments later by lily pads that bristled past as the winds willed them. moss stuck close to the rocky edge, only to be gone seconds later when fish braved the shallow waters in search for food. your eyes seemed transfixed on the sight before you. the only sounds heard for miles was the salty breeze and the fish that swam. oh, and of course your hammering heart.

without a word, luke made his way closer to the ponds edge, taking a seat against the bark of the closest willow tree, beckoning you to follow his actions. "i come here to think." he started, an airy tone in his voice. you recognised the tone well, often finding yourself reflecting on the times of your childhood when things were much easier. "we're two sides of the same coin, you and i" he continues on. "as much as we bicker, we only have each other."

you brought your knees up to your chest as he spoke, turning your head to look at him. the words hit hard, rubbing salt into the gaping wound of loneliness that has found a home in your heart. luke took your saddened eyes and silence as a sign to speak further. "i wish to tell you about my past. if only you promise you will stick by me, and not breathe a word of it to another."

he looked upon you intently. coffee eyes, boring into your own, trying to work out how you would react to his confession. the shock was plain in your face at the serious connotations behind his words. how the two of you went from rivals to having a heart to heart was unknown. but you did not mind. the shift in the wind revealed the truth in his feelings for you and allowed you to feel safe with the boy next to you, a lot safer than you had felt in a long time. your mind had stilled for what felt like the first time in years; luke's presence in this moment allowing you to calm, reflecting the atmosphere he trusted to show you. and you intended to honour this trust.

"i promise."

luke visibly relaxed at your words, you now held the trust of each other. a silent vow passed over the two of you; you would remain by each other's side through whatever the gods plans. having only each other as an escape from loneliness, you welcomed this promise with warmth. you shuffled closer to him showing that you had meant what you said, your tucked legs now touching his outstretched ones. taking it as a sign of comfort, luke mustered up the courage to interlock your hands. he needed a source to ground him before he told you the tale, your soft hands proving perfect for the job.

"as you know i'm not from here. i washed up on the shores of tarth many, many years ago." his voice trembled slightly as he recounted the story of his childhood for the first time. you began to slowly rub circles with your thumb, showing him that it was alright as you listened intently. "i was born in king's landing to my mother rhaenyra targaryen."

you were taken aback by his confession yet deep in your heart you knew it to to be true. anyone else who would make such a claim would be called a liar the moment the words slipped from their mouth. however, the tone of luke's voice, and the pain evident in his features told you enough. he wasn't lying.

his lip wobbled slightly as he fought the tears that wanted to fall, the heartbreak in his voice and how his eyes glossed at the pain willed you to fish for his other hand. now facing each other with interlocked hands, luke found the strength to continue. "i loved them so so much. but the war- the split in my family was too much." his voice cracked as he reminisced on the tragedy that struck. the anguish broke your heart, you hated seeing the boy who was once so full of mischief in such distress. you felt helpless seeing him, only being able to offer him comfort with the pads of your thumbs drawing soothing circles. 

"luke it's alright." you soothed, eyes staring into his. "you do not have to talk about it if it causes too much suffering."

a small sad smile graced his lips. "no. i want to." he sighed, taking a deep breathe before he carried on. "when i was sent as a messenger to storm's end. only a boy of ten and four, i was promised that i would be welcomed, that my grandmother's family would show me hospitality. i was wrong. aemond was there and i-i thought i would be able to escape. arrax was fast, and i was stupid enough to believe we would make it. it's my fault he's gone. i was stupid enough to think i could outrun vhagar. s' my fault he's dead, he shielded me from the jaws of vhagar and from the ocean below and i never did anything to protect him."

he couldn't help the streams of tears that fell from his face as he mentioned his dragon. "and i have wanted every single day since washing up here to return to dragonstone. but i can't. i don't have the means to, i barely have enough to survive- and- i would not know if it would cause more harm than good."

you had heard the rumours of what had happened to lucerys velaryon from sailors who passed by. how his uncle had viciously murdered him in cold blood, being branded as a kinslayer in return. you had also heard whispers of the bonds targaryens had with their dragons, how sacred it was to hold such a connection with the beasts amazed you. you could not fathom the pain that luke felt with the lose of his closest friend. 

without thinking, you drew the crying boy closer to you. embracing him as tears still pooled from his eyes. muttering hushes, your hands weaved through his hair willing him to calm. "luke, i am more than sure that your family would welcome you with open arms with your return, and i will help bring you to them myself if you wish it." you paused, waiting for his reaction. a slight sniffle from him was enough for you to resume. "and i know nothing i say will ever bring your dragon back, but i am undoubtedly certain that arrax had loved you with all his heart and would have saved you a million times over. it is not your fault you were attacked on a diplomatic mission. it was no one's fault but the prince's."

silence engulfed you before a small "thank you." was muttered into your back. 

"no, thank you." you replied. "thank you for trusting me enough to tell me this luke."

as he drew back from the embrace, his glossed eyes once again met yours. you didn't know if it was your shared pain that did it, or the knowledge that you two now trusted each other that drew his lips to yours. but whatever it was, you were grateful for. every emotion felt was poured into the kiss. your hands once again found his hair as his calloused hands cradled your jaw, exacerbating how much you needed one another in that moment. loneliness, suffering, pain, yearning, love. none of it needed to be said. the kiss was word enough. 

pulling away from each other, you settled your head in the crook of his neck breathing him in as his head rested upon yours. after keeping the information bottled up for so long, luke finally felt free after revealing the truth, a white flag had been presented in the war that raged in his mind. and under the willow tree as you drifted off to sleep, still entangled with him, he had decided that maybe he did not need to threat about returning to his family. the thought of living a quiet life in tarth may finally bring him the peace he had wanted for so long. 

as he had you to live it with.

[mamayan]

★SWEET★

Yandere! Dabi x Fem! Darling

Secret Santa 2023 Event!

Word Count: 4k+

Welcome to the Secret Santa Event, hosted by @ectologia (thanks for throwing this together ♡)

My Secret Santa is… @wilderuby ♥️ I hope you enjoy your Christmas present even if it’s not really Christmas themed~

cw: NSFW • Obsessive/Possessive Themes • Fem! Reader • Yandere Themes • Stalking/BNE • Dubcon • Dabi • PIV • Fingering • Praise/Degradation • Kidnapping • Psychological • Dacryphilia

It keeps happening.

No matter how many times you’ve visited the local police station, or how often you knock on the door to your neighbor’s home, you keep finding them.

Innocently resting beside your head when you wake up, whether you sleep in your room, the living room, or even your bathroom, is a single red rose.

Never intact either, the delicate scarlet petals singed in one way or another, to the point now it seems to have become an art form. The dark veins running along inside the thin petals blackened until the rose takes on nearly a new color of ashen burgundy.

You went to the heroes, the police, your friends and family, and yet nothing has come about stopping it.

“It is odd but maybe it’s nothing?” Your friends had said, claiming it was seemingly harmless.

How could it truly be though? You locked your doors, all of them, from the front door to your bedroom door to putting padlocks on the windows. You’d awake to everything intact how you left it, not a single thing out of place… except the addition of a single burnt rose.

It was breaking you down mentally and emotionally at this point. Seemingly being haunted by a ghost, faceless and voiceless, no physical form to blame and scream at. You do scream though, after a year of it occurring despite all efforts—even moving to a new home in a different city. No matter what, when you wake up, there’s a rose. Whether you sleep in a hotel, your friend’s home, your parents, even on the damn subway.

There’s always a fucking rose. Every. single. morning.

It’s to the point where you stopped sleeping, staying up to see with your own eyes if you’re truly insane. You blink and it’s just there, even when you search, and search, and search. A rose, a little crispy, rests in front of you without fail.

It was possibly a new method of torture, but soon enough your nervous system no longer perceived it as a threat. You’d awake to the rose, roll over, and start your day. You stopped mentioning it to family and friends, and eventually it became as normal as breathing. You’d place the roses in a vase, comical at this point, and change them out weekly. A few you even preserved, out of sick humor more than actual appreciation. You’d be certain to mention you wanted no roses at your funeral, at least not red ones, and especially not scorched ones.

You became complacent, as you set your keys down upon entrance to your home, to see an entire bouquet of flowers resting on your kitchen counter. Singed red roses, and one singular black rose in the middle… this time there’s a card. A small folded note about the size of your palm, attached to a silken ribbon wrapped around the thin neck of the vase. Condensation slowly slid down the side of the intricate glass, and for some strange reason, your heart felt dread seeping into its core. Your blood felt icy and your farthest appendages chilled as you shakily lifted the delicate paper up. Several seconds ticked by as perspiration dotted your brow before you eventually sighed and unfolded the note.

Ready to come home, doll?

It was motionless in your home. Deathly silent and still but nonetheless your body shook as tears welled up in your eyes while the foreboding words registered with you. You were home, weren’t you? You knew that much. You also knew you’ve never been called the nickname doll a day in your life, at least by no person you knew.

Was it a joke? Your instincts screamed it wasn’t. You did a pathetic job of staying calm, dropping your keys noisily on the floor as you trembled and dropped to pick them up. You’d leave, stay somewhere else tonight and figure it out in the morning—

“Going somewhere?” You hadn’t head even a footstep. You could see in front of you now a pair a beat up leather boots. Dark jeans lazily bunched up around them with a few nicks and tears in the denim fabric. Your eyes continued up until you were staring at a man.

Bright blue eyes, framed by thick dark lashes, stared down at you. His skin was like patchwork, staples actually pierced through healthy looking flesh while connecting what looked like chard leather to it. His skin you realize after a moment. Some healthy, some burnt, while he stood casually over your crouched form with his hands shoved into the dark trench coat he wore over some ratty band t-shirt. You didn’t watch the news often, hardly ever since your stress was high enough dealing with your own issues, but you knew who this was.

What villain this was.

“Dabi…” you barely even breathed his name, almost inaudible despite your close proximity, but it seemed he heard just fine as a slow forming Cheshire grin spread his lips wide open, revealing his white teeth and sharp canines.

“What’s that doll? Y’look like you’ve seen a ghost, speak up, can’t hear ya down there.”

You were right to feel dread. This was likely the worst scenario possible, one you truly hadn’t even thought of. A notorious villain leaving roses for you? Who’d believe such a ridiculous thing? Even you were struggling to believe it.

“Th-the roses…?”

“Hn? Thought I said speak up.” The waning of his smile shouldn’t have your blood pressure spiking as it did, but you scrambled to speak louder as those violent blue irises blazed.

“Did you—uh, a-are the roses from you?” You slid back, nervous as he stepped forward, eye lids growing heavy as he settled for a smirk on his lips.

“Bingo.” He confirms, not a hint of shame or embarrassment in his laxidazical tone.

You heart hammered against your ribcage, eyes briefly leaving him to look at the bouquet on the counter, mind running faster than a hamster in a wheel. He seems fine just staring at you, expression unreadable besides shallow amusement. He’s giving you time to think, and something in your gut is telling you to tread with caution.

What does it mean to leave roses for over a year for you, every single day? No matter how difficult it was made to do?

Someone in love or someone with a grudge. He doesn’t look the part for either, but the bouquet and strange note having you leaning towards some kind of affection for you. However disturbingly he shows it.

Swallowing thickly, nails scraping on the tile floor, you give a wobbly smile.

“T-they’re very pretty… thank you.”

His eyes briefly widen, head tilting as he observes you with a keener interest than before.

“Yeah? Y’like ‘em, doll?” Doll, that nickname again, you wonder if that’s how he refers to you in his mind. You never likened your appearance to a doll.

You nod with a short jerk, smile still plastered even as your bottom lip wobbles minutely.

“I-I do,” it’s more nerve wracking to be staring up at him from the floor, so you make a show of moving incredibly slow, standing on fawn like legs as you reorient yourself with your own feet again. “You gave me a bouquet this time…” even standing you’re forced to tilt your head back to look at him.

“I did.” He confirms, and the sweat sliding down your spine begins to cool as you shiver. You keep wetting your dry lips, struggling to truly grasp how you’re supposed to get the hell out of this situation.

He seems to visibly enjoy your panic and nervous ticks, watching you pick at your nail bed while he makes you stew in confusion and unanswered questions.

What do you do when the country’s top villain stands in your kitchen? You don’t have a quirk that can compete with him and you sure as hell regret squandering the times your friend encouraged learning some self defense.

He’s not in a hurry it seemed either, leaning a hip against your counter while he continues to observe your every movement. His presence made the space around you appear smaller, like he was sucking the energy from the room.

“Are you…” you look down at your feet, “…going to kill me?”

He snickers, catching your gaze again as it flicks up briefly.

“Nope.” He pops the p with a smile.

You don’t feel relieved.

“Are you going to hurt me?” A better question in all honesty.

“Maybe, probably.” He admits casually, shrugging as if it can’t be helped.

Then the best question for the evening, one still festering in your mind, “Why me?”

The air shifts, the scent of smoke like a campfire, wafting over to you.

“Asked myself that question a lot,” he stands up straight, removing his hands from his pockets. He ignores your flinch, coming closer even as you backed up into the counter. “Asked what the fuck is so special ‘bout you,” he jabs a finger into your chest, eyes flaring as he immediately flattens his palm and lays it over your heart. “To make me like this.”

He smells like campfire and something with chemical undertones, his breath held traces of menthol and tobacoo.

“Y’know what conclusion I came to sweetheart?” The way he said sweetheart was laced with venom.

He’s so close you can feel the heat radiating off him.

“W-what?” You don’t really have an option but to ask. He looks manic, languid expression sharpening into something dark and terrifying as he smiles.

“That it doesn’t fuckin’ matter. That I can do whatever the fuck I want, when I want, how I want. Not you, the heroes, or the shitty cops can do a damn thing to stop me.” He leans back, face melting again into something akin to pure satisfaction.

“Why you? It’s your own fault, doll, should’ve tried harder not to catch my attention, don’t’cha think?” It’s like he’s mocking you, eager to get a rise from you as anger and humiliation burned in your soul.

You shook in rage. Fists clenched at your sides as you urged the tears in your eyes away. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry like this.

“You’re a fucking asshole.” He laughs as you bite out the insult, a deep belly laugh, nearly doubling over as if you’d told the funniest joke possible.

“Wrong move,” he fakes at wiping a tear, eyes crinkling at the corners before your scalp is suddenly on fire, a gasp yanked from your lips as you're hauled up and back to the floor. “Said I’d probably hurt ‘ya, didn’t think you’d sass me so early. That’s okay, I’m good at breaking people, fix that mouth real quick.” He murmurs, as if he’s not using your hair like a lead and making the tears you’d fought back so hard earlier fall.

“Hurts!” You grunt, now putting up a decent struggle as you fight back.

He ends that quick with a flick of his palm, blue flames lighting up your darkened kitchen and striking horror into your soul as he waves it around in your face.

“Think I won’t do it ‘cuz I won’t kill ‘ya?” He asks, his eyes matching the flames he produces, filled with a sick sort of glee.

“I’ll make your face look like mine if you keep acting up.” That shuts you down quickly, going limp even as he releases your hair to grip your arm, dragging you through your home with confidence to where everything is, going straight to your bedroom.

“W-wait—! Dabi please, I-I’m sorry,” he stops in your doorway, looking down at you with over-exaggerated sympathy.

“Poor thing,” he coos, no less gentle as he drags you to the bed and pushes you down. It’s a gentle landing, but your panic gives you energy as you try to quickly crawl away. He grips your ankle, his palm heating so quick you hardly realize you’d been burned until you screech, teeth clenched tight as you struggle to even breathe. It hurts so much.

Your will to fight ends as he climbs above you, shrugging off the trench coat and yanking his t-shirt over his head while grinning at you.

“Too early for cryin’ doll, that one won’t even scar.” He looks disappointed by that fact. “Now, I can be nice ‘n sweet if you’ll be good for me…or I can push your fucking face in the mattress and take you like a filthy whore. Pick or I’ll pick for you.” His shift in tone as he tells you to choose how he’s going to rape you instills a strange sort of hopelessness inside you.

He doesn’t care when the water works start up again, rolling his eyes as he watches you weep and tremble like he’s done anything worth crying over yet to you.

“Well babydoll? I’m so fuckin’ hard right now you won’t like the choice I make for you.”

“Sweet…” you’re all curled up like a kitten doused in water beneath him.

He’s unbuckling the belt around his hips, tugging the denim down and his boxers along with it as he grunts.

“C’mere” he all but growls, yanking you up again and pulling at your clothing, quick and efficient in stripping you despite your actions mimicking the nickname he’s given you. Acting like a doll in his embrace as he tosses each article of clothing you wore off to the floor until you were down to your bra and panties. He’s yanking at your bra first, eyes greedily drinking you in as he leaves your top bare finally.

You sniffle pathetically, any attempt at hiding yourself useless as he uses his knees to knock yours open, fitting himself in between as he messily licks two fingers and shoves aside your panties to rub at your folds.

“Hgn!” Your eyes open wide as he crassly works two fingers into your dry cunt, his saliva barely enough to grant him access to the tight confines. “D-Dabi—,” your nails are digging into his arms, tearing at a seam of staples and causing a few small trails of blood to stream, but he’s too focused on you to truly mind.

“Y’asked for sweet doll, means you need to relax and let me in,” he explains, like he’s not stretching you open and jabbing his thick digits inside you despite your weak protests and groans of pain.

Your body gives way to the intrusion after a few minutes, adrenaline fading and leaving you almost exhausted as your cunt lubricates itself to ease his passage.

“There ‘ya go,” he murmurs almost hoarsely, letting you go when he sees you’re being obedient enough and using that freed hand to grip his leaking cock.

Your eyes track his movement, watching him grasp the thick appendage hanging heavy between his legs.

You note before even his size the piercings, not just one or two but a multitude lined his cock like a weapon more than a sexual organ.

Dabi notes the hitch in your breath and where your eyes lay, proudly running his thumb over the ladder of piercings up the spine of his shaft to the tip where two small stainless steel balls rested.

“Scared?” He teases, relaxing himself as he jerks his cock and relieves a little of the ache which had been building in his balls. Curling his fingers up, you gasp in surprise at the pleasant feeling which accompanies the action.

“Nah, you ain’t scared, doll. Not a coward, y’would’ve run a long time ago but you stayed ‘cuz you like this. You like knowing someone is out there willing to do anything to have you,”

“I don’t—,” he cuts you off with a sharp thrust up, pressing into the rough textured spot along your gooey walls.

“Shh, y’should know I don’t like liars, especially not ones who get exposed by their cunt dripping all over the bed.” His smile is filthy, lecherous gaze running along your sweaty exposed skin as he just keeps hitting that spot inside which makes your toes curl.

“P-please stop, Dabi I can’t—,”

“Still lying?” He asks, more amused than angry as you try your best to twist away from the pleasure now wracking your body.

“How’s this doll? You drop the Dabi bullshit n’say Touya when you’re about to cum, okay? Y’listening?” He stops working himself over, freeing his hand again to tap your cheek and catch your clouded watery gaze.

“Try it out.” He orders softly, sweetly, like he’s trying to be gentle but the way his fingers fuck you is anything but sweet or kind. The loud lewd squelching exactly as he said earlier, a confession to how much your body at least enjoyed his careless attention.

You huff, mouth opening to choke on a moan as he adds another finger, fingers wrapping around his wrist where they attempt to halt the sudden oversensitivity inside you.

If anything he jams his fingers inside you harder.

“T-Touya!” You hope he’ll stop. Hope he ends this strange psychological torture as your stomach coils up tight.

He doesn’t, Dabi merely groans in delight and chuckles over you, leaning down to slot his lips over yours in a kiss as messy as he’s making you down below.

His soft top lip is contrasted by the rough feeling of his bottom, but his kiss is hot and you can taste the menthol now. His scent is strong, and you catch a hint of his natural odor beneath the smoke and tobacco. Your cries are silenced by his lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth when you open to complain. You shiver as you feel the drag of a piercing on his tongue, the light touch somehow more erotic. He parts sloppily, saliva connecting your lips for a moment before you flinch as he spits in your mouth.

“Open your fucking mouth.” The tone he uses and language are harsh, and you tearily do as instructed. “Stick out your tongue.” He murmurs a bit more nicely this time, humming in approval as you obey with shaky hesitation.

You won’t hesitate soon enough, if he has anything to do about it. He’ll make his words gospel in your cute brain and have you eager to listen to his every command.

Dabi lets his spit hit your tongue slowly, watching you pant like a dog with your tongue out as he brings you closer and closer to your release. The way your walls clamp around his fingers and constrict makes his cock weep to sink inside you already. “Touya—!”

You cum when he finally allows you to swallow, gushing and throwing your head back while he fucks you through it, laughing as you tense up and beg for mercy and try to escape the pleasure he’s delivering relentlessly.

“Good fuckin’ girl, say my name baby, let me hear it.” Dabi nearly loses it himself watching you shatter, eyes wide and wild as he keeps going. “Touya pl-please…hn!” You keen almost like you’re in pain, fingers digging into his shoulders now while your legs kick out.

“Y’asked for sweet, doll, means you get to cum as much as you want tonight.”

That wasn’t what you’d thought it meant, even as you choke and cum again, this time more softly as he slows his furious pace to something manageable now.

Dabi smiles at the fucked out expression you now wear, pliant in his hold as he maneuvers your body, hoisting your legs up and pressing them to your chest as you whimper in protest.

“You can stay nice ‘n pretty like this doll, doing so good f’me.” He’s not very assuring as he murmurs to you while positioning the weapon he’s armored on his cock at your dripping entrance, tapping his tip a few times on your puffy clit as you moan and twitch, view perfect to watch how he slicks himself up. “T-Touya…” he moans as he catches on your entrance only to slip up, eyes looking at your face as he licks his lips and tries again, enjoying the soft warm feeling of rubbing on your cunt.

“Yeah doll? Need somethin’?” He grins, his cock finally breaching that tight ring of muscle that lets him sink into your hot welcoming depths. “Fuck, been dreaming ‘bout this cunt for so long. Y’know how many times I’ve had to just cum on your sleeping face instead of fucking you? All the times I could’ve just woken you up and had you?” He moans, laughing at the horrified and almost strangled look you gave him, his chest vibrating with a laugh as you mewl like a cat in heat when the first row of piercings sinks into you. “Like ‘em baby? Fuckin’ looks like you do, they feel good in your little pussy?” He moans again when you accidentally bare down on him, the tightness increasing painfully as you whine when his piercings dig in too much.

“Easy doll, let me in,” he murmurs, dark hair falling into his face as he braces above you with one arm, lithe muscles taunt as he works his hips a little at a time into you, enthralled with how you fit around him enough not to slam himself inside all at once.

When the top balls of his piercings kiss up against your cervix, you’re ruined, face a mess as you struggle to adjust to the stretch and sensations.

“S’too much, Touya—” you can only cling to him, eyes drawn to where he’s sunk his entire fat cock into your depths, the way your body contorted giving you the best view.

Your words have the opposite effect though, his groan guttural as he drags himself out, drunk on the feeling of your pussy and lost to it.

“Keep sayin’ my fuckin’ name, lemme hear ‘ya scream babydoll,” you go to protest again, when he slams each inch back into you, the ribs along his cock now working in tandem with his thrusts, effectively shutting you up as you squeal and dig your nails into his shoulders for purchase.

Dabi fucks you hard and deep, speed unnecessarily to keep the air from your lungs as each thrust feels like it’s hitting up in your stomach, the pain and pleasure blending until you aren’t sure if it truly hurts or not.

He sets a steady rhythm, watching your body shake each time he lets his hips fall like a hammer, seeing his cock swallowed each time by your greedy cunt until he’s delirious at the sight.

“Pretty fucking slut, look how your pussy takes me.” He’s spewing filth at you, but when it should offend, it instead makes you burn hotter, his name falling from your swollen pouty lips like a chant.

“This cunt want me to breed it? Fill your pussy full until you can’t take anymore?” You shake your head in denial, unable to truly form words anymore as he picks up his pace, fucking you hard enough to make your headboard slam into the wall. Each thrust accompanied by a symphony of wet slapping, his balls tapping your ass each time his groin kisses your own. “Bet it does, huh doll? This greedy little cunt keeps begging for more.” He loves the dichotomy between your sloppy pussy and the way you shake your head. “No? Y’sure doll? Think it does. Don’t like lyin’ baby, remember? You want me to punish you?” You shake your head again, a bit frustrated when he slows, letting you feel all of him inside you like this, his weight keeping you pinned.

“Shakin’ your head ain’t an answer doll, I’ll be nice ‘n give you another chance, but I expect a fucking a verbal answer this time.” He’s like a light switch. Either on or off but much more terrifying when he flips it on, eyes and voice menacing as you cough and answer in a husky voice. You don’t want to test him on the punishment, truly you don’t, as your ankle still fully throbs in the back of your mind as a reminder of what he’s capable of and who he is.

“I-I like h-how you do it now…” he cocks a brow, sinking deep and then pressing even further so you whine and try to push back further into the bed.

“Y’like how I’m fuckin’ you now? That it, doll?” You go to nod before remembering his warning, swallowing thickly and voicing a soft agreement.

“Hmm… then y’oughta say it, right? Tell me how good I’m fuckin’ this pussy.” He growls, bright blue eyes lighting up as you moan, his pace increasing again as you blabber out whatever nonsense you can to satisfy him. Whatever would make him be sweet, because you have a feeling you don’t want him any other way.

“S-so good! Mhn, f-feels so good Touya, pl-please, ah,” he’s being too rough, your eyes watering and tears spilling as he drills into you, but even still you feel yourself close to coming again as those piercings rub perfectly inside you.

Dabi lifts up, letting your legs fall to either side of him as he grips both your hips tight and fucks you more aggressively. Jackhammering into your gummy walls like he’s eager to imprint the shape of his cock inside you, mouth open and brows furrowed while he groans feeling you tense up again, this time around his dick.

“T-Touya—! M’coming, oh fuck—!” You look painfully suprised when you realize how much it all becomes as you cum, the peircings becoming more prominent as you spasm and clamp down on him, eyes rolling back as your vision slightly blurs.

“Yeah y’are doll, fuck, that feel good? Looks like it did.” He chuckles, chest swelling with a deep satisfaction as he fucks you harder despite your weak whines, overstimulated cunt begging for a break despite how he bullies himself inside you.

“Tell me where you want it,” he’s close, panting and overheating even as he nears his end.

“N-not inside…” he laughs at the soft reply, thrusts only getting deeper as he resorts to simply humping into you for friction after you tighten up so much it hurts to go harder.

“Can’t pull out though doll, look how tight you’re gripping my cock.” You aren’t paying attention, mindlessly moaning as he finally gasps and cums, cock twitching deep inside you and filling you up despite your earlier request.

He nearly collapses on you, chest rising and falling quickly as he regains his breath and relaxes on your soft chest for a moment to recouperate.

When he’s caught his breath, he leans up, slowly pulling out and watching his heavy load immediately spill from your hole.

“Tsk,” he uses two fingers to scoop up what dribbled out, stuffing it back into you as you sleepily huff and press a hand against his chest.

You’re helpless to stop him, too exhausted to fight more and figuring it better to let him have his way than risk his wrath right now.

Once he’s satisfied he’d stuffed you back up well enough, Dabi is quick to leave the bed and begin redressing, speaking casually with you despite your lack of answering.

You watch the villain act as if nothing had occurred, face the same smug arrogant grin when you’d first spotted him.

It’s when he returns his attention to you that fear begins to trickle back into your blood stream.

He seems to notice too, smile growing with your apprehension.

“Now doll,” he crosses back to where you’ve sat up and covered yourself with a blanket, weary gaze locked with his.

“Ready to come home?”

Then it’s dark, your vision going out with your consciousness as Dabi catches you in his arms, dragging your limp figure from the bed and into his arms quickly.

He’s kind enough to wrap you in a sheet as he takes your house keys and phone, shoving them in his pocket as he leaves your place with you in his embrace.

He whistles on his way home, a bit eager to see your expression when you wake.

He figures you’ll learn to like your new home once you realize you’re never leaving it.

He even decorated for the season, the tree a little burnt but he’s sure you’ll appreciate the sentiment.

Dividers/@cafekistune

[youcancallmeelle]

She’s got a boyfriend anyway…

Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI)

Word count: 7K

Warnings: Semi public sex, Missionary, Cowgirl, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Teasing, Sneaking around, Secret relationship, Brief David mention, Ellie being a menance, Tommy trying to play matchmaker.

Summary: Tommy has been trying to set Joel up for AGES, he’s got other interests.

Or

You and Joel have secretly been seeing each other.

A03

Read below…

Life in Jackson is promising, nearly a year and half here and Joel feels comfortable, no longer itching for a way out of civilisation because he’s just not used to that no more. Ellie is settled too - finally. She’s attending school three days a week, enjoying the new responsibilities that come with being sixteen and the tad bit of freedom it brings. She helps out at the stables, in the kitchen too but she’s not a fan. She likes being in the library most, checking in and out books, tidying shelves, using her art to create eye catching displays aimed at the younger generation of Jackson.

Joel is proud, his heart feels like it could burst out of his chest all the time. Ellie is still full of wit and charisma that comes out in curses and daft puns that make Joel roll his eyes and get her in a headlock until she’s laughing so hard she’s pink in the face.

There’s times when she skips school completely if a male teacher has subbed in, she flinches away if someone comes too close and sometimes if it’s stew night at dinner, she’ll stare blankly into her bowl at the chunks of meat and see a severed ear, she’ll try to swallow but gag instead. These are nights Joel gives her his bread and Tommy will too, then he’ll make her a fruit salad when they get home with a little double cream poured over it.

The nightmares are persistent on these bad days where triggers occur, he finds Ellie in bed screaming and thrashing multiple times a week. She’ll sob and cry hoarsely as he holds her, hushing her gently and resting his cheek on her head. Most of the time she’ll fall back asleep with him beside her, curled into him like she did back at Silver Lake when death was close.

But mostly, everything’s okay.

Joel had been with Tommy every single day this week so far and it was Thursday evening, they’d been focusing on fixing up the bathroom in a house way further down from his, they were getting it ready for a family that had expanded to move in. The floor was rotten and the pipes wrecked, neither of them were particularly fond of plumbing but they sorted it between them. There was still the kitchen to do but that was a job for tomorrow and probably Saturday too but not Sunday, that was his day with Ellie.

Sunday’s were for late breakfasts of bacon and pancakes - before and after the world ended. The only thing that changed was the kid for Joel, he used to serve Sarah indulgent breakfasts on a Sunday and they’d do something together and the tradition was carried on with Ellie and Sarah remained tucked in his heart.

Tired and stiff from working hunched over all day, Joel was enjoying a quiet drink with Tommy. They were tucked away on a small table with two stools, Joel would have preferred something with a back but beggars can’t be choosers; he was grateful for the cold glass of bourbon nearly empty in front of him and the sound of Dire Straits playing over the old speakers.

As always, Tommy is picking and prying into his lack of a love life. Since he’s noticed his older brother being more settled within the community, he’d been trying his hardest to set him up with various women and Tommy Miller was nothing if not persistent.

At this point in the day, Tommy’s voice is almost just white noise.

“Cath is nice.” Tommy pointed out, Joel snorts.

“She’s also gay, Tommy.”

“Oh shit, really? I didn’t know.”

“Clearly. Can we please stop talking about this? It’s the same thing every fuckin’ time I come drinking with you.” Joel begs, Tommy sighs heavily but drops it for now.

Joel takes in the scenery as he sits there, grateful for the moments silence from Tommy. His eyes stray to the left of the table and he listens as you speak to Denton, an older gentleman in his late sixties with a love of horses. He’s quizzing you about the new mare in the stables, he hears you mention checking on her again after your shift because she’s been particularly temperamental since she was brought in from outside but you’ve developed a nice bond with her, she’s slowly becoming more trusting.

It occurs to Joel that everyone likes you - literally everyone, even Ellie and she was a tough nut to crack. You’re sweet, soft spoken yet confident. You’re always helping out where you can; on patrols, stable duty, in the communal garden, sometimes at the school and also here at the bar when Darius needs his shift covered.

You find good things on patrol and give them to Joel or Ellie before taking the rest for the community, so they get first pick of everything.

You’re just the sweetest thing.

Tommy sees you and beckons you with a friendly wave, you mutter a goodbye to Denton and pat his hand.

“Hey.” You hear your name called over the music and you turn as Tommy Miller grabs your attention as you scoop up two glasses and an empty bowl that once held nuts and dried berries from the table two away from his and Joel’s.

“Yes, Miller?” You patter over with your hands occupied, you sneak a look at his older sibling, sparing him a wink as a greeting, he smirks softly back.

“Has Darius got an other fuckin’ music or are we strictly limited to the sounds of 1985 tonight?” He questions and you laugh, shaking your head.

“You don’t like Dire Straits?”

“He doesn’t appreciate good music.” Joel interjects, shaking his head at Tommy.

“I do - but other music. Eminem or even fuckin’ Britney! Anything but this shit.” Tommy groans, tossing his head back.

“Keep talking smack about Dire Straits, Miller - and I’ll snitch to your wife about the fact you’ve switched patrols with Mark twice this week because you were too hungover to go.” You smile sweetly at Tommy, tilting your head.

“Snitches get stitches.” Tommy remarks playfully, not an ounce of malice in his dark brown eyes and your eyebrows rise, you beam back.

“That right? Well, troublesome men get barred for life.”

“Oooooh.” Joel chimes in, looking amusedly between you and his younger brother.

“Touché.” Tommy quips, folding his arms.

“Tell you what, next time I’m in, I’ll have a rummage out back and see if I can find you some Britney. Bless you.” You pinch his cheek as you walk past and he swats your hand, rubbing the spot while Joel laughs.

“You’re pushing your luck giving her lip, I’m not sure if you’re aware but this is the only operational bar in Wyoming.”

“Tell me about it.” He grumbles back, Joel shakes his head once more as the door behind Tommy on the back wall opens.

“Joeeeeeel?!” He hears yelled from close by, he looks up and sees Ellie dragging her sneakers across the floor, scouring the bar for him with her honey coloured eyes eagerly. She spots him within seconds, beaming and practically skipping over to him and Tommy in the corner. “There you are, I looked fucking everywhere for you.” She groans dramatically, throwing her head back. “I wanna go out, I’m bored shitless at home. There’s nothing for me to do and yes - I’ve done my school work.” She quickly adds.

“You done those quadratic equation questions we were going over last night?” He raises his eyebrow.

“Yep. Easy peasy lemon squeezy, though I did ask my teacher because I’m pretty sure you were figuring them out wrong. You were, by the way.” Joel puffs indignantly, rolling his eyes. Ellie spins to Tommy, the soles of her shoes squeaking. “Can I try that?” She’s laser focused on the bourbon swimming between globes of ice in Tommy’s glass.

“What have I said the last twenty times you’ve asked, El?” Tommy’s dark brows are high on his forehead, his mouth is twisted with hidden laughter. Ellie rolls her eyes with annoyance, sloping over to Joel now.

“No.” She huffs, swinging her lanky arms around Joel. She hums and rubs her face into his shoulder bone, resting there for a second before her attentions shifts comically fast. There’s a warmth that spreads through Joel every single time she does this, she’s so casual about it and he’s drawn the conclusion that it’s a teenage thing because Sarah was the same. There’s a sadness that blossoms too, a darkness that twists and anchors in his chest as he thinks of her and who she’d be now. He can’t dwell for too long, not now - he did that for too long.

At one dark point in time, human connection was not key to survival, hence why he always kept Tess at arms length and then referred to Ellie as cargo until one snowy day it became apparent she was no longer cargo when she was frenzied and panting in his arms, splattered with the blood of a predator and gasping like she was taking her last breath. The sound haunted him for a long time, all memories of Sarah hitting him like a freight train. He had to protect Ellie, the minute he drew her in - oh baby girl - and held her tightly, wrapped in his coat and clinging to him just as hard.

Ellie’s his kid now. She’s his. He’s hers. They’re a family. Ellie Williams Miller - that’s how she’s known now. It’s scrawled on her school books. The love he feels for this human tornado in sneakers is unmatched, the one thing he’s ever been truly good at has been restored and it’s a role he knows well; being a father.

Sure, this teenager that he’s raising is the furthest from bubblegum pink and Avril Lavigne she could be, she’s particularly jagged around the edges and does have the temperament of an unsocialised cat that will bite if you get too close.

He looks down at her, rubbing into him like she’s trying to get his smell on her because it’s comforting and she feels safe and feels his heart ready to burst.

Of course the sweet moment of affection is shattered when Ellie yawns directly into his fucking ear because why wouldn’t she?

He grunts when she bears most of her weight on his aching shoulders, leaning easily into him and twisting her small fingers into his flannel.

“So? Can I go or not?” She presses.

“Go where?” He prompts, raising his eyebrow.

“Toni’s from school. Her cat had kittens a few weeks ago and they’re starting to play. Five of them, Joel! That’s a lotta kittens!” Ellie enunciates, brown eyes wide and Joel can’t help the smile that graces his otherwise tired face.

“You mean a litter?” He corrects and Ellie pauses, frowning.

“Huh?”

“A bunch of kittens is a litter, Ellie.” He informs her and she somehow manages to frown even more, she makes a noise like she’s computing the new information.

“Yeah, whatever.” She mumbles, Tommy snorts in amusement. “So I can go see them?” She presses, shifting her weight again and Joel groans louder now, unhooking her arms from his shoulders with a quiet ‘don’t do that, baby’ that’s full of affection.

“Yes but you’re back at nine latest, okay? Nine. I’ll be waiting for you, the minute those street lamps turn on, you’re home.” Joel says, Ellie’s mouthing along to his instructions that he’s been laying out since Summer began and the evenings stretched longer. “Be good.” He speaks more softly now and she nods, he presses a kiss to the side of her head, her eyelashes flutter happily as the warmth blossoms in her too with the security that’s Joel Miller.

“Peesh. I’m always good. Bye Tommy!” She says excitedly, fist bumping him when it’s offered.

“See ya, squirt.” Tommy replies but before he’s even voiced his reply, Ellie’s hurrying away and knocking into a patron while waving to you on the way out of the door so hard it slams. Joel sighs, thinking she’s a literal hurricane.

The door hinge has barely stopped shaking before Tommy starts with the suggestions of suitors once more.

“What about Myleene?” Tommy proposes, Joel shakes his head quickly, downing the remainder of his drink.

“Too young.” He replies.

“She’s twenty five.”

“Too young.” He repeats firmer this time.

“Okay, fine. What about Michelle? She’s what forty? I was talking to her in the cobblers the other day, she’s definitely interested - mentioned something about making you a pie?”

“I’m good.” He grumbles looking down into his empty glass but quickly shifting his gaze to the bar, you’re leaning on your elbows, laughing heartily with a patron.

You look beautiful tonight - just like every other night. Your shoulders are sunkissed, your cheeks a little flushed and skin glowing from the summer humidity. He absorbs the way your hair tumbles down your shoulders and the way the thin straps of your tiered sundress slip down occasionally, only to be tugged back into place with dexterous fingers.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.” Tommy jibes, Joel looks over with a firm scowl.

“What?” He asks, Tommy shakes his head.

“You can dream, brother.” Joel rolls his eyes, trying to act nonchalant. “She’s got a boyfriend anyway.” Tommy adds, Joel eyes him with full attention.

“A boyfriend?” He asks, trying to be sure he heard right.

“Yeah, overheard her talking to one of the girls in the garden a few days ago. Didn’t mention no names but she definitely said she was seein’ someone.” Tommy shrugged, Joel hummed with interest. “Anyway, it don’t matter because she’s way out of your league.”

“Thanks.” Joel retorts, sneaking one last look before focusing on the door behind Tommy, the one Ellie had not long barrelled in and out of just moments ago.

He wonders about the kittens she mentioned and gulps as he imagines her taking to one with its big eyes and soft paws, his mind is pulled back to a time in April when he’d come downstairs one morning to a sink full of tad poles she’d ‘rescued’ from birds out of the neighbours pond.

Basically, his girl can’t resist animals she deems too vulnerable to leave.

“Scared Ellie’s gonna come home with one of them kittens?” Tommy wonders, reading Joel’s mind.

“Terrified.”

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

The sun is setting in bursts of burnt orange and marigold by the time he leaves Tommy to his own devices at the bar, he hazards a look around as he makes his way in the complete opposite direction to his and Ellie’s house.

He slinks around the back of the school house, slithering through the gap and walking up the winding path that leads to the stables. He climbs the short fence and hops to the other side, his boots kick up the dust from the dirt path and the crickets chirp beneath the skyline.

With one more look around, he opens to rear door to the stables and slips inside, shutting it softly behind him.

Immediately he hears the horses further down huff and puff, he can make out the swish of their tails hitting the walls as they munch on hay, there’s a neigh that is absolutely Shimmer kicking up a fuss about something.

He slopes around the riding gear and sees you leaning against the wall, hands behing your back. You grin.

“Took your time, cowboy. Was beginning to think you couldn’t take the hint and stood me up.”

“Never, honey.” Joel prowls towards you, ready to grab you. “Missed you.”

“You just saw me.”

“Not the same.” He yanks you close like a man starved, you’d shared company less than 24 hours ago but you greet and leave each other like it’s the last time you’ll ever be together. It’s the apocalypse affect, you know that, he does too

This arrangement had been going on for almost two months now, all started by a late night patrol together where you’d shared more about yourselves in an eight hour shift than both of your time in Jackson combined. There was an instant attraction, it was so easy to talk to one another and that’s what you did every single time you were partnered together and it became the highlight of your day. It started innocently and friendship had bloomed, then before you knew it you were sharing a rum laced thermos of tea with him in the bed of a truck and kissing him with reddened cheeks shortly thereafter. You’d first slept together in the same truck, just as dawn began to break. It was clumsy and quick but you couldn’t get enough of one another. You hadn’t cum but Joel promised next time would be better which lead to the question of next time? You’d been seeing each other most nights since.

Any chance you got, you were together. Nobody knew about you both, hence why Tommy was incessantly trying to hook Joel up with other women around town and jealousy burned as you listened in on their one sided conversations in the bar whenever you were covering for Darius.

You’d left the bar shortly before Joel had, waving farewell to him and Tommy, coming straight up here to check on the mare just as you’d told Denton. This was a usual spot to meet Joel, it wasn’t your first rodeo in the stables with him. It was the one place you could be alone after a certain time.

“Were you hiding from me, honey? Hmm?” He growls playfully, pulling you to him even though you were barely a millimetre away in the first place. You hum in response, so utterly lost in him. You’re nuzzling his throat, fisting his shirt, desperate for his attention. “God, you look so good today.” He murmurs, mouth finding yours. You moan softly, standing on your tip toes and kissing him in a way that makes his lungs and loins burn alike. His grey tinged moustache prickles your upper lip beautifully, his beard feels familiar beneath your soft hands.

He’s crowding you and guiding you backwards, kissing you hotly in a sense that makes your cunt throb eagerly. You moan into his mouth when he nips your bottom lip, squeezing the left cheek of your ass.

You love when he’s like this - playful and easy. He feels lightyears younger around you, it’s like the heaviness dissipates the moment he’s in your company. He loses himself in the way you smell, the way your hair feels when his fingers are entwined between the sun kissed strands, the way in which your eyes sparkle with mischief.

It’s easy to pull him towards the back of the stable, where the bales of hay were stacked created a nice wall of privacy. You’d been in here a couple of times with him, having gone as far to stash a flannel blanket in one of the cupboards to lay down as to protect you both from the cold floor and the prickle of loose hay.

Once behind the hay and seated on a bale with you in his lap, strong hands are moving the thin straps of your sundress down your shoulders, you momentarily break away from his mouth to aid the removal of your dress to your waist where Joel roughly bunches it up so that your underwear is now on show and so are your tits.

His eyes light up at your bare chest, like he hasn’t seen your breasts countless times before. One thing among many that you first noticed was that Joel Miller is a tit man through and through. His rough and work toughened hands cup them both gently before his tongue swirls around your left nipple.

“Joel.” You murmur, arching into him, rolling your hips into his. He’s hard already, age not affecting him like that in the slightest. He’s a hot blooded male, every single inch a man and that warms you to your core. You grab his hand, bringing it to the top of your panties and he slides it in without hesitation.

“Christ.” He curses, exploring your lips with his fingertips, gliding through the dewy wetness gathered there and coming back up for a split second to drag it over your clit roughly. You whimper, bucking into his hand. “Mmm, babydoll.” Joel huffs against your cheek in a hot pant, repeating the action.

“Need you so badly, Joel. Almost got started without you.” You confess.

“Fuck. You can’t- don’t say shit like that, honey.” He growls lowly, unbelievably hard beneath you. His fingers explore again, you aid his explorations by canting your hips just so.

Joel is eager to get things moving, he’s hard and frustrated, he has a beautiful woman in his lap and the perfect setting. He pulls his hand from your underwear, looking down to see the shine of you on him. He loses his mind when you take his hand and lead it to your mouth, sucking the tips of his index and middle finger as he watches with eyes blown wide; they look black instead of the earthy brown that sometimes melts into caramel or runny honey.

The minute you hum like a content cat, he has you lifted off his lap and braced against him. You squeal at the sudden shift, the ceiling looking closer than the floor but then he gently lays you back on the blanket and settles between your legs.

“Hey, who was Tommy trying to set you up with?” You blurt, Joel pauses.

“Cath.”

“She’s gay.” You frown.

“Michelle too.” He adds before diving down into your chest, pressing your breasts together, mouthing at the swell.

“I’m not sure you’re Michelle’s type, she’s a cougar apparently.” You remark, Joel ignores you in favour of sucking your nipples until they feel raw. “Why Michelle? I don’t understand why Tommy thinks she’s a good match for you.” You don’t know why this is coming up now, your mouth seems to have a mind of its own, the jealousy settling like lead in your stomach.

“He said she wants to make me a pie.” Joel pipes up, the confession half muffled.

“What kind of pie?” You ask, pulling his face from your tits. Joel groans frustratedly, looking up at you with eyes dark and deadly.

“I don’t know. Why does that even matter?”

“A cream pie probably.” You snarl under your breath, the jealousy swirling in the pit of your stomach like a rattled viper.

Joel laughs, shaking his head and coaxing your mouth back to his. “Gross.” He murmurs, kissing you softly and squeezing your hips as if to guide you back. “You know I only like your cream pies.” He jokes, this time you break into a smile.

“Now whose gross?” You snort, tugging his plain grey undershirt over his head and to the side. You run your palms over his chest and down to his softer stomach, digging your nails in as they drag a long his skin. Goosebumps erupt all over him.

Joel is softer in his older age but strong too, years of walking different terrain, heavy lifting and fighting have made him lean also.

You hum contentedly, tracing over those familiar scars that have been made in the 20 years since the world imploded.

“He said you were out of my league.” Joel suddenly admits, resting his hands on your spread knees. You frown up at him. “Tommy said you were out of my league.”

“Tell Tommy he doesn’t know shit.” You retort with an eye roll, grabbing Joel by his belt and yanking him forward. “I like you, Joel. Fuck what anyone else thinks, it’s not anyone’s business who we choose to be with.” You say softly now, kissing your way up his chin to his lips. “I like you.” You affirm again, Joel kisses you tenderly, weaving his hand into your hair as you moan quietly.

“Well, I like you too.” He says, kissing you with so much passion yet so much tenderness all at the same time as you fumble to unbuckle his belt. You yank it apart, tugging open the button and prying the worn denim apart with the hiss of his zipper.

He barely lets you wrap a hand around him over his boxers before he has both your wrists pinned above your head, you make a sad whine but all disappointment quickly dissipates when he shuffles down the length of your torso and yanks your underwear down so fast you feel the material leave a friction burn. He grabs your thighs and then manoeuvres your legs by the backs of your knees, you like where this seems to be going.

Your spine curves against the hard floor when his mouth makes that first contact, he starts slow with a lick up the length of you, then he lightly suckles your lips and gently licks over the hood of your clitoris.

“Joel.” You murmur, twisting the blanket beneath your fingertips, scrunching it and bitting down on your lower lip as he continues his gentle assault on your clit, the rubber toes of your hi tops dig into his ribs almost painfully.

His thumb comes up to gently push the hood of your clit back, the sensation of his tongue directly stimulating the nerve causes you to gasp and wind one hand down into his hair, you tug and he groans against you.

You’re transported back to one of the first times you’d been intimate together after sleeping together in the truck.

For some reason, it had shocked you that Joel Miller ate pussy like a champ. The first time he’d gone down on you - behind the bar just after you’d blown him - you’d prepared yourself for dissatisfaction and disappointment, only it never came. Joel had licked into you with such ferocity and precision that you’d almost keened over.

He’d made you cum so quickly that you’d barely had time to process the first swipe of his tongue on your clitoris and the climax that followed minutes later.

He’d looked up at you, moustache and beard slick with his eyes wide; ‘I forgot how much I enjoyed doing that’ he’d panted while you squeaked back in shock.

Now, as you live in the moment, you feel that tingle of pleasure building but you don’t want to cum without him inside of you. As much as it pains you, you tug on his hair, urging him back up.

“Wanna cum with you.” You pant when he looks up with dazed brown eyes, frowning a little. He seems to accept that and sits up, shucking his jeans and boxers down over his ass with the help of your clumsy hands. “Lay back.” You demand, he does so and you move to take his place.

You throw your legs over his and settle above his lap, he’s got one arm behind his head and watches as you take him in your first and tease yourself with the flushed tip of him. He breathes in sharply through his nose as you do it again before notching him at the site of your heat, you steady yourself and begin to sink down.

“Fuck me.” Joel sighs, closing his eyes briefly because he’s so sure he’s in heaven. The sensation of your wet heat surrounding him never gets old, he’d forgotten how much he loved sex before meeting you.

“You’re so big, Joel.” You whimper, stroking his ego deliciously and he hates to be such a guy but the compliment goes straight to his dick.

“Fuck, honey. Take what you want, I’m yours - just fuck me.” He begs as you slowly begin to move, your nails scrape across his torso as you fall into an easy rhythm of rolling your hips into his. “You’re so fucking perfect, baby.” He babbles, looking up and admiring the curve of your back and the way your tits bounce as you ride him.

“Mmm.” You whine, picking up the pace and throwing your head back which exposes your jugular and Joel just wants to sink his teeth into you because you truly look good enough to eat.

“Come here, babydoll.” He urges, pulling you down so you’re chest to chest. Your peer at him with pretty doe eyes, your lashes flutter as they shut to kiss him deeply, your tongue swipes his and you taste the tang of yourself on him. You moan louder when he manages to plant his boots on the floor and thrust up into you roughly, tangling his hand in your hair to keep you pressed against him.

It’s so hot in the stables, you’re both sticky and warm. But with your pretty moans and keens filling the air, Joel manages to easily forget the irritation from the heat.

You push against his chest to sit up and Joel grabs your hips, guiding you easily and you feel yourself getting close but you can’t achieve orgasm through penetration alone.

You brace one hand on his thigh behind you, tipping your head back as the pleasure becomes almost too much to handle. Your hips roll in an easy rhythm, his cock head hitting your G spot perfectly and you whine when the hand on your left hip moves ever so slightly until Joel was able to thumb your clit. He knows you so well.

“Oh f - fuck. You feel so good, you’re so good - fuck.” You babble, your hips moving faster.

“Jesus christ.” Joel huffs, throwing his head back against the hard floor, biting his bottom lip hard to stave off his orgasm. You feel so good wrapped around him; wet and snug, like crushed velvet.

He knows he can’t stay like this, he’s too close to finishing and he can sense you’re not quite there yet despite being edged so he makes the conscious decision to hold you and flip you both over with a nimbleness he didn’t know he possessed in his older age.

You stutter out a choked moan, arching into his strong hands. You drag your nails down his toned back, leaving a little spatter of blood in the red tracks.

Joel hisses when your nails puncture the skin on the globes of his ass, somehow trying to pull him closer and push him away at the same time.

“Where?” He asks, nodding downwards as he fights off his climax.

“Inside.” You reply without hesitation. You’d counted your cycle days, marking in a blank notebook the day number and your symptoms, pretty accurately guessing your fertile window and probable ovulation day by cervical mucus alone. You were four days from your period being due, it was safe.

“You sure?” He hesitates, brow furrowed hard with concentration, he’s a stroke away from finishing. He knows better than most people to not trust the pull out method and he knows the importance of contraception but he still ended up a Dad before he hit his mid twenties. Pushing sixty he’s still playing a dangerous game but so far, neither of you had gotten burnt.

“Yeah.” You gasp, fingers on your clit rubbing faster. You groan suddenly and twist into him, making pretty little whimpers and purring. He groans too, thrusting in hard once, twice and then three times. You feel his cock stiffen and twitch, then the pulse of subtle warmth of his cum spreading inside and aiming for your cervix. He works himself through it, you push in return as the aftershocks slow to a flat line.

Joel heaves a breath, resting on his forearms as you lazily kiss his neck in satisfaction and rapture. You sit there for a minute, basking in the afterglow until Joel grows too stiff and has to withdraw from you slowly, kneeling up between your legs to pull his boxers and jeans back up but he leaves them unbuttoned and his belt loose.

You don’t miss the primal look in his eyes when they drift to between your legs, he can see his cum leaking and the pearlescent finish it leaves on your lips. His cock twitches, perhaps if he was younger he could go for another round but alas, he settles next to you on the blanket, pulling you to his chest and cushioning your head with a strong bicep.

“I think that might have been the best time yet.” You pant breathlessly, looking up at the ceiling and seeing the evening sky through the cracks of wood.

“Maybe one day we can do it in an actual bed, I’m not sure how much more of these places my back can take.” Joel jokes, you giggle and turn into him, listening to the rapid pace of his heartbeat as it settles, a perfect mirror of your own.

“Not bad for an old timer.” You tease, giggling when he growls and squeezes your hip.

“Was patrol okay today?” Joel questions you, you nod lazily against him. “You come across anything?” Now you speak, leaning up to peer down at him.

“A couple of runners. We shot them in that abandoned gas station near the entrance to the offices off the trail. I think they were probably people passing through, one was infected on the journey and turned, then bit the other.” Joel hums, rubbing your lower back and hip. “I have some things for Ellie I found, by the way. I’ll drop them over tomorrow. Nothing crazy, just some things I thought she needed.” You say between kisses down Joel’s chest and sternum, your delicate fingers tracing out old battle scars.

“What like?” He asks, catching your hand as it reaches his happy trail, bringing it to his lips instead where he presses tender kisses to your fingertips.

“Pyjamas, underwear and some toiletries. Oh! And get this, a new casette tape for her walkman.”

“What tape?”

“Teardrops.” You grin.

“Womack and Womack? She’s gonna love that.” Joel says, laying back and smiling at the ceiling of the stables, humming the song in his head. “Fuck, I haven’t heard that song in - jesus - years.” He’s frowning, contemplating lost time, the whole concept of time evades him, it never used to at the start but now? It’s one big jumble, his time is defined by events and not a calendar.

“She still playing that one you got her on repeat?” You wonder.

“Yeah.”

“What was it again?”

“Bowie. Heroes.” Joel replies.

“Nice.” You nod.

As you lie there together in an easy silence, content to be together in the quiet solace of the stables, Joel’s mind wanders back to his earlier conversation with his younger brother:

“Hey, er - Tommy actually said something else earlier.” Joel winces at how awkward he sounds and you huff loudly, ready to hear what other dumbass thing he’s said. “He said he heard you say you have a boyfriend or that you were seein’ someone.”

You sit up, frowning down at Joel.

“Okay…” You reply hesitantly, uneasy now. “Am I not seeing you?” You frown.

“No - no! It’s… that came out wrong. I just meant - “ Joel grumbles, covering his face momentarily while you try to will your stomach from not sinking. “I don’t know, I just wanted to know if you meant me.”

“Seriously, Joel? This conversation is going so well.” You say dryly, utterly unimpressed.

“No! Oh my god! I can’t do this.” He groans, realising his mistake. “I’m sorry, that came out so wrong.” Joel apologises, you snort.

“Look Joel, I was talking to Mrs Patterson in the garden and she was telling me about her late husband, saying how lovely he was and how men just aren’t like that anymore. She asked if I’d found anyone and I let it slip that I was seeing someone, I didn’t mention any names and I can totally understand why you’re freaked when we haven’t even had that conversation ourselves. I shouldn’t have assumed this was anything more than sex, I’m sorry.” You annunciate, warm in the cheeks.

“You want to just have sex?” Joel is sat up now, matching your frazzled expression.

“If that’s what you want.” You shrug, taking an interest in your cuticles. A large hand lays over yours, squeezing. You shift your focus to his knuckles instead, tracing out the scars.

“Honey, look at me.” He urges softly, you hesitantly meet his eyes. “I think somewhere we’ve miscommunicated.”

“How so?” You press.

“Look… it’s been a long time since I’ve done this, I’m a little rusty. I’m sorry if I haven’t been clear about what we are or what I want us to be, I kinda just assumed you knew and yeah, that’s real shitty of me.” He says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I wanna be exclusive with you, honey. I mean, I have Ellie to think about so we’ll need to go slow just so I can ease her into the change. Is that okay?” He whispers, pressing his forehead to yours.

“That’s more than okay, Joel. I completely understand, I don’t want to spook Ellie either.” You confirm, Joel let’s out a relieved sigh.

“Good - good, okay. We’ll figure it out, baby.” He assures you, nuzzling his nose against yours and kissing you softly.

It’s easy to lose yourself in Joel Miller, you’re swept up in the gruff voice and strong arms, the softness beneath his outer shell reserved for those closest to him.

You’re kissing him back in earnest, he’s reclining to lay back down with you on top of him and you’re sure this could lead to round two or at least head from either one of you, maybe even both.

However, the moment is spoiled when you hear voices creeping closer to the stables. You both stiffen and wait, looking at each other with eyes opened wide.

The voices are getting closer and you decipher it’s two sets, it’s not made clear who it is until they’re walking behind the stables and you can see their shadows slink between the thin gaps in the planks.

It’s Ellie and Tommy.

You and Joel scramble, you yank your dress back over your breasts and pull the hem of it over your ass. Your panties are on the floor and you narrowly dodge Joel’s elbow as he hastily buckles his jeans back up just in time for the door around the corner to open with a shriek of the hinges.

“What if he’s gone out on patrol without telling me? Or maybe he’s swapped with someone and gone hunting? I know I’m back way earlier than he said but he said he’d be home! Do you think he’s left the gate? What if he’s hurt? What if - “ Ellie begins to ramble and Tommy sighs.

“Kiddo, stop worrying. I’m sure he’s around here somewhere, let’s look at the whiteboard and see if his name’s on there. I highly doubt he’s swapped shifts and he wouldn’t leave without telling you, he’s gotta be around here some…” Tommy’s reassurance comes to a stop when he round the corner of the hay bale wall and abruptly stops, staring at you and Joel with as much shock as you return.

Ellie slams into his back and he wobbles but his gaze never falters.

“What the fuck, man!” Ellie exclaims, shoving Tommy and stepping around his statue like form but also freezing too.

You look between them both, trying to formulate an excuse but Joel shoving his t-shirt on, the fact your clothes are crumpled and there’s absolutely hay in your tousled hair says it all.

Your panties are shoved behind your back out of view.

“Well I’ll be damned, you’re the guy she’s seein’!.” Tommy snorts, looking between you both. Joel growls, yanking on his flannel while Ellie manually retrieves her jaw from the floor.

“What the fuck is this?” She asks, looking between you and Joel. “You have a girlfriend? What the fuck, dude? You didn’t say anything!” She fumes, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Look, it’s complicated and new.” He says, which placates her slightly. She stares at you again and you see the betrayal hidden behind a scowl, she looks at Joel again.

“Fine. I guess this isn’t that bad, it could be worse - we could of caught you with Esther.”

“That’s true.” Tommy nods, pointing at Ellie, she nods back.

“Esther?” You question, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, Tommy’s neighbour, she totally fancies Joel.” Ellie tells you. “You should fight her.”

“No, she doesn’t and stop shit stirring.” Joel warns Ellie, she hides a smirk which tells you she’s winding Joel up.

“I could take Esther.” You say, playing along, Ellie’s eyes brighten with mischief.

“Nobody’s fighting no one.” Joel settles, you’re all silent for a millisecond and then Tommy throws in his two cence.

“You could take Esther.” He agrees.

“Enough about Esther, please!” Joel begs, beside himself.

“This is fucking embarrassing, Joel. What the fuck do you expect us to do? It’s awkward!” Ellie complains, Tommy nods in agreement, you do too.

“Yeah? Try being where we’re stood, kid.” He retorts.

Ellie kinda has to resist the urge to throw up in her mouth because Joel has sex which is so horrifying that she almost can’t bare to look at him but she’s equally happy for him and utterly disgusted, she swallows back a retch.

“Fine, whatever. I’m very happy for you and my da - Joel.” Ellie bursts and corrects herself at the last minute, you don’t miss the hitch in Joel’s breathing but this is not the time for that discussion. “I’m willing to negotiate a price for the emotional damage you’ve both caused me by lying to me, sneaking around and also having sex in front of my horse.” She lists.

“My horse too!” Tommy adds.

“And Tommy’s horse too, Crash and Shimmer didn’t want to see your bare ass.” Ellie continues and for some reason Joel knows exactly where this is going, so he braces himself.

“Name your price.” He bites, Ellie looks at him with a levelling glare, it’s getting hard not to laugh when you see Tommy observing like he’s watching a mafia deal go down.

“A kitten.” Ellie reveals.

He fucking knew it.

[formulawolff]

iv. raising the stakes - t.w.

pairing: female driver! x toto wolff

word count: 2.0k

warnings: cursing, age gap, mentions of divorce, power imbalances, mentions of age gap relationships, sexual references, toto wanting to be with you every second of every day, YEARNING, pining, yadayadayada, the works y'know

prev. | next.

“don’t tell me it’s that fucking nitwit.”

the team principal nearly growls, fury oozing into every single word. 

“i haven’t talked to him in a while,” panic starts to flare up, “fuck, fuck, fuck. what do i do?”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“ignore him?” 

“i can’t do that,” you suck in a breath, “you need to go to my room. just sit on my bed or something until he leaves.”

“scared he’s going to catch on or something?” toto arches a brow, his tone shifting from scorn to a light-hearted tease, “oh schatz, are you worried your little boyfriend won’t like that you’re with another man?”

“no,” you scoff, “you know exactly what would happen if daniel saw both of us. go to my room. stay there until he leaves.”

“fine,” he rolls his eyes, clambering to his feet. he stretches slightly, wincing, “that was not my best idea.”

“that’s what happens when you’re an old man.”

the remark lights a new fire in toto, the austrian licking his lips, “oh don’t worry love, this old man will you show you soon he’s actually–”

“get. in. my. room.” you hiss, scrambling to your feet. 

“fine, fine,” he exhales, nodding towards the end of the hall, “i assume that’s it?”

“yes,” you affirm, “just stay there. answer some emails or something.”

“will do,” he whistles, turning on his heel. 

once the door to your room closes, you clear your throat. your voice was probably shaky from what just occurred. hell, even your brain felt like it was a pile of mush. 

there was not a single thought rattling around, your memory only replaying a constant loop of what just happened. 

oh fuck. you realize your shorts were completely soaked. and it was noticeable. although you weren’t going to be opening your legs, you were obviously flustered. 

time to act like nothing ever happened. 

quickly, you throw a blanket over you, “come in!”

daniel pokes his head in, a bright grin enveloping his face, “hey there, winner, winner!”

“how are you?” 

“i’m okay,” he shrugs, crossing over to the couch, “were you watching something? i thought i heard some voices.”

“oh yeah,” you nod fervently, “i was just watching some tik toks before you came in.”

“sorry it’s so late,” daniel fiddles with a loose thread on his shorts, “i figured i would come by after all the press and all that. you must be tired, yeah?”

“a little bit.

“it was a huge day for you,” he points out, “i’m happy for you. i really am. i couldn’t think of anyone who deserved that win more than you.”

you can’t help but feel a grin form, “thank you, danny.”

“also,” he lets out a shaky breath, “i feel like i owe you an explanation why i’ve been so distant this last week.”

“oh daniel you don’t have to–”

“but i do,” he interjects, his voice so quiet you had to lean forward to hear it, “i guess when you asked me that question after bahrain, i was confused. to tell you the truth, i was confused about how my feelings for you. i guess i never really addressed the feelings i had for you until you brought it up. yeah, i do have feelings for you. i am attracted to you. but i can’t act on them because i know that you would never pursue me in that matter. you’ve always seen me as one of your best friends, and that’s okay. i figured i would take a step back so i could heal without hurting you or lashing out. because it’s not your fault, it’s all been one-sided.”

“daniel i–”

“you don’t have to say anything,” he shakes his head, avoiding eye contact, “i had to heal on my own. i had to come to terms without bringing you into it. it would have been immature of me to make you feel like you had to reciprocate the attraction. besides, i feel like you’re attracted to someone else.”

your heart nearly stops beating for a moment, eyes widening, “oh – um, i–”

“you’ve always spoke so highly of carlos, and with the way you look at him, i have a gut feeling you like him.”

you can clearly picture toto in your room, leaning against the door, listening to every word. this meant you had to tread these waters carefully. 

very carefully. 

“oh daniel,” you begin, “at the moment, i’m not attracted to anyone on the grid. if anything, i see most of you guys like my brothers. it’s the best group of friends i could have ever asked for. if i were to have romantic relationships with any of you guys, i feel like it would diminish the bonds we have. also, i just don’t think it’s very professional. we have to keep things professional, you know?”

“i understand,” daniel’s eyes meet yours, and you can’t help but see nothing but anguish, “i appreciate you, i really do. can we just act like you never asked that question?”

“of course.”

“i love you,” daniel leans forward, scooping you in an embrace, “you’re the best. i’d stay and chat about your big win today, but i bet we’re both exhausted. i’ll text you, okay?”

“okay,” a giggle bubbles up as daniel shakes you back and forth, “i love you too, danny.”

“i’ll see ya around,” he places a swift peck on your temple before getting up, “sleep well. you deserve some rest.”

“you too,” you murmur, waving as the australian strolls out, “see you around.”

“byeeee!”

once the door shuts, you flop backwards, breathing out a sigh of relief. 

that seemed to go well. 

shooting up, you remember that there was a very large, very handsome austrian man waiting for you in your room. wrapping the blanket around your shoulders, you spring up, nearly jogging down the hall. 

pushing open the door, your breath hitches in your throat. 

instead of being wide awake, toto is slumped on your bed, limbs sprawled out. light snores fill the air, his chest rising and falling. rays of moonlight cascade into the space, shrouding him with a soft glow. 

quietly, you make your way to the bed, discarding your shorts and underwear. after seeing the clothes on the floor, you realize you may as well ditch the top too. peeling it off, you toss it, burrowing under the comforter. 

toto stirs, blinking, “how long was i– oh my god.”

you can’t help but smirk as he’s left speechless, mouth agape, eyes nearly as wide as saucers, “not long. daniel only came over for about fifteen minutes.”

“and you didn’t wake me the moment you started taking off your clothes?”

“i didn’t know i was supposed to,” you tease, scooting towards the principal, “you don’t have to leave. you can stay.”

“i don’t know if i should,” light kisses pepper your nose, cheeks, and forehead, “they’re probably all wondering where i ran off to. i’ve been gone awhile and haven’t been answering my texts or calls. if i’m not careful, they might send out a search party.”

“lewis hamilton can’t be without his team principal for one second?” 

at your response, toto laughs, his chest vibrating against your shoulder blades, “you’d be surprised. at times i wonder if i adopted him as my own. george too.”

“please?” you roll over, facing him. for extra measure, you jut your bottom lip out, ensuring that your lashes flutter as you blink, “please stay?”

“hmmm,” he hums, leaning in, “what’s my incentive for staying?”

“you know, not everything is a business transaction.”

“i just wanted to hear you beg a little.”

the truth of the matter was that the team principal knew if he stayed, he would be in too deep. even further deeper than he already was. 

oh, toto wolff was already weak for you. 

but now? 

it was far worse than he could ever imagine. 

there was just something about you that he couldn’t shake. as you laid beside him, moonlight swathing your figure, he couldn’t resist admiring. fuck, you were just so gorgeous. 

however, that was not the only thing that drew him in. your aura alone was attractive enough. confident, radiant, oh so intelligent, and level-headed. also, you were unapologetically yourself. toto needed that. he needed someone to match his energy. 

the fact that you were one of the best drivers on the grid was just a bonus to the plethora of qualities that he adored. 

of course, there was that ever-present thought looming in his mind. 

if a single soul found out about this blossoming relationship, every aspect of his life would come crumbling down. 

his children would shun him. he would be let go from his esteemed position at mercedes. the fia would exploit his wrongs in every way imaginable. the media would have an absolute frenzy. his drivers would no longer speak to him. 

and susie? oh god. 

although there was still a band gleaming on his left finger, the marriage with susie had devolved three years ago. the papers weren’t signed until several months ago, the team principal keeping that matter private. merely for the sake of his ex-wife and children. wearing the band was simply a promise he made with susie for the time being, to keep the public thinking that they were still happily married. 

the divorce would be announced at the end of the 2024 season, just so that the media wouldn’t speculate. 

although, they already speculated more than he liked. 

yet, there was this part of him that urged him to take that risk. to pursue you. to get to know every part of you. to learn, cherish, and love you in every way possible. 

you were his golden girl, without a doubt. 

a shining ray of light that deserved the world. 

and by god, he was more than determined to give you that.

“toto,” your eyes were closed, lashes fluttering as a hand ran through your hair, “can you please stay?”

“if i stay,” the team principal shifted his body, propping himself up with an elbow, “i’m going to have to leave early. probably before sunrise so that i’m not spotted.”

“you could just disguise yourself.”

“right,” a light chuckle flows his lips, “i’ll find a mustache and stick it on. no one would ever dare recognize me then.”

“you think?” fuck, your giggle was going to be the death of him. 

“i know,” leaning over, he presses a kiss on your temple, “i’ll stay, schatz. just don’t be disappointed if you wake up and i’m not there. all right?”

“all right,” you nod, sleep slurring your words. 

quickly, toto unbuttons his shirt, discarding it to the floor. fuck, it was probably going to be wrinkly in the morning, but he didn’t care. as long as he got to spend a few more hours with you, it would make up for it. standing, he unbuckles his belt, slacks falling to the floor. 

pulling the comforter back, he curls up next to you, bringing you close to his chest. 

“you know, sixteen-year-old me would be screaming, crying, throwing up, right now.”

“is that right?” his chest rumbles as he laughs, “well, we’ll have create a time machine to let sixteen-year-old you that all of her dreams come true.”

“are you sure you don’t have a crush on me, mr. wolff?”

“like i said before schatz,” his arms squeeze you gently, “crushes are for children.”

“then what is it?”

“we’ll have to find out,” toto found his eyelids drooping as you snuggle closer, “goodnight, golden girl.”

in his heart, toto knew the answer all too well. 

if the two of you continued to meet like this, one of you would be bound to want a relationship. with such a bright future ahead for you, would you even want to settle down at mercedes with a man like him? a previously divorced man going through a potential midlife crisis? 

additionally, if the two of you continued to meet like this, one of you would be bound to fall in love. 

and if that was the case, the stakes would only be higher. 

not only would be acquiring one of the best drivers in formula one’s history, he would be acquiring the girl he loved. 

and god, was he determined to make that happen. 

by any means possible. 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

taglist: @toldyouitwasamelodrama

please let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist! thank you for reading! <3

[ilovelovewithallmyheart]

Your older brother Suguru always brought his idiotic best friend from the basketball team around after school. 

He would always get on your nerves. Not only was he loud and annoying, but he was also stupidly attractive. Whenever Satoru was around, you knew that you would not be getting any work done at home.

He somehow knew what effect he had on you. He would wink or blow you kisses when he saw you around the house, but always behind Suguru’s back. If Suguru knew that Satoru was flirting with his younger sister, he would lose his mind. 

Unfortunately for you, procrastination decided to be a real pain and you had a lengthy essay that was due tomorrow morning. 

It was time to fully lock in. The blinds were drawn, your phone was hidden from arms reach and your noise cancelling headphones were in. You were ready for battle.

You could barely hear the knock on your door. You turned around, saying “come in!”

Your older brother peeked his head through the door. “Hey sis. Just letting you know that-“

You nodded, brushing him off. He always gave you a heads up when Satoru was visiting. Satoru was always hanging out with Suguru in his room, almost every day of the week. 

It was a common occurance now, so you didn’t bat an eye when Suguru notified you of someone coming over.

For the next eight hours you were in full focus. Your noise cancelling headphones were expensive, but boy were they a good investment. You couldn’t hear Satoru’s pitchy voice, or his raucous laughter. 

It was now nearly midnight, and you were starving. You made your way to the kitchen, noise cancelling headphones playing music from your phone, when you sensed a pair of eyes staring at you from the living room.

Rather, multiple pairs of eyes. 

You failed to notice that Suguru had invited his entire basketball team over today, instead of just Satoru. 

You startled and dropped a glass cup of water, the entire thing breaking in two in what felt like the loudest possible way.

You were suddenly conscious of the comfortable form fitting shorts that you had outgrown years ago, and the tank top that dipped a little bit too low for comfort that you were wearing. It was even worse now that you were blushing beet red and bending over to scoop the glass up.

Where was your brother when you needed him? He was nowhere to be seen!

“Don’t do that.” Satoru now stood crouching in front of you, his broad shoulders covering you from his teamates veiw. “You’ll hurt yourself.” He swept the shattered glass into a dustpan and brush. After he was done, he gently held your wrists and inspected your hands. “You’re lucky you didn’t cut yourself.” His blue eyes pierced yours. Suddenly his gaze dipped downwards, onto what you were wearing. You felt the colour return to your cheeks immediately. “I-I’m fine.” You snatched your arms out of his grasp. You stood up immediately and he did too, casually trying to cover you up.

“Suguru never told me that his little sister was hot.” Naoya, the captain of the basketball team commented. “If I knew that I’d have hosted more get togethers here.” The rest of the basketball team snickered, and white hot rage turned Satoru’s blue eyes into a stormy grey. “Shut the f*ck up Naoya.” His voice was lethally low, the complete opposite of his usual pitchy keen.

Naoya whistled. “Sorry. I didn’t know she was taken.” 

Satoru glared in silence.

“I-Is she actually your girlfriend?” Naoya bursted into laughter. Condescending, rude laughter that sounded like forks scratching against plates. “So what if she is?” All the anger had dissipated from Satoru’s face. There was now a cool mask of indifference with a hint of playfulness. 

“Seriously? The school playboy Satoru Gojo is dating her?” 

“You say it like it’s a bad thing.” He challenged.

You stood there, face whipping back and forth between Satoru and Naoya. “Hey Satoru!”

Your voice sounded unnaturally stiff. “Why don’t we continue watching The Office in my room? We still haven’t finished off the episode we were on!” Your voice cracked at the word ‘still’, and it looked like Satoru was fighting tremendously hard to keep himself from laughing.

“Sure thing sweetie.”

**

“Okay why the f*ck am i only now hearing from Naoya, f*cking Naoya that you’re dating my sister?”

Suguru was angry.

Murderously, terrifyingly angry.

*planning on making this a fake dating kinda thing, part 2 coming...*

[veganpropaganda]

"A telling example of the impulse to project human stereotypes of disability onto other animals can be found in the story of Mozu, a snow monkey (a Japanese macaque) who was born in Japan’s central highlands. Mozu was born with abnormalities of her hands and feet thought to have resulted from pesticide pollution. Snow monkeys spend much of their time moving through trees, which allows them to avoid wading through the thick snow that covers the ground in the winter months. Mozu’s disabilities meant she was mostly unable to move through the branches; instead she traveled the nearly two miles that her troop covered every day in search of food by alternately walking on her abnormal limbs and crawling and sliding on the forest floor. When Mozu was born, researchers who had been watching this troop feared she would not make it past infancy. To their surprise, Mozu lived for nearly three decades, rearing five children of her own and becoming a prominent troop member.

In an episode of the program Nature featuring Mozu’s story, she is again and again referred to as “inspiring,” “suffering,” and a “very special monkey.” The dramatic music and voice-overs that describe Mozu’s struggle in vivid detail make it nearly impossible to watch her move across the snowy forest floor, a baby clinging to her belly and other monkeys flying by above her, without thinking, “Poor Mozu!”

At the same time, I am aware that the piece was edited to elicit this reaction. There are few shots in which Mozu is not struggling, and I question the effect the videographers had on her and the troop. In one scene her desperation seems to stem from being chased by the cameraperson. The music and voice-overs of course also add a sense of struggle to Mozu’s story.

Yet I have no doubt that life was hard for Mozu, and I find myself desperate to know what she thought of her situation. Was her instinct to reach for the trees unquenchable? Was she always in pain, exhausted, or fearful as she moved slowly across the forest floor? Did she wonder why she was different from her companions? I cannot help but wonder, although I realize how similar these thoughts are to the tiresome questions I have been asked again and again about my own life, my own disability. My desire for Mozu’s life not to be seen as one of suffering and struggle is also a projection, one that wishes disability empowerment onto my fellow primate. Our human perspective shapes how we interpret Mozu’s experience.

Many of our ideas about animals are formed by our assumption that only the “fittest” animals survive, which negates the value and even the naturalness of such experiences as vulnerability, weakness, and interdependence. When disabilities occur, we assume that “nature will run her course,” that the natural process for a disabled animal is to die, rendering living disabled animals not only aberrant but unnatural."

-- Sunaura Taylor, "Animal crips" in Disability and Animality: Crip perspectives in Critical Animal Studies.

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

Over the last few years, I’ve begun to heavily encourage people to think of a zoo or aquarium or sanctuary being accredited as conveying important information about their ethos / operations / politics - but not as an inherent indicator of quality. Why? Because accrediting groups can be and are fallible. There are issues with all of the accrediting groups and programs, to varying degrees, and so they’re just a piece of information for a discerning zoo-goer to incorporate into their overall opinion. I just saw a news article go by with some data that proves my point.

First off, good for Houston, no commentary that follows is directed that them.

This isn’t the first time I’ve seen a headline like this - there was one a couple years ago, about Cheyenne Mountain Zoo in Colorado also getting a perfect inspection. But here’s what bugs me about it.

If you see/hear the phrase “Facility X has been accredited by Y organization, which holds the highest standards in the world for this type of facility”, it kind of implies that facility X meets all of those standards, doesn’t it? Not most of them, not the majority. When you hear that a zoological facility has gone through a rigorous process to earn an accreditation branded (by the accrediting org) as “the gold standard” in the industry… the general public is going to interpret that as saying these facilities are in compliance with every single rule or standard. And what these headlines tell us, alongside the commentary from AZA in the articles, is that it’s not only not true - it never has been true. Most AZA accredited facilities apparently don’t meet all the AZA standards when they’re inspected, and that’s both okay with them and normal enough to talk about without worrying about the optics.

Let’s start with the basic information in the Houston Chronicle article, which will have been provided to them by the zoo and the AZA.

“Since it's inception in 1974, the AZA has conducted more than 2,700 inspections and awarded only eight perfect evaluations throughout the process's 50-year history. Houston Zoo's final report is 26 pages long — and filled with A's and A-pluses."

Okay, so… doing that math, less than one percent of AZA accreditation inspections don’t meet all the standards at the time of inspection. But, wait, that’s not just what that says. That bit of information isn’t talk about AZA accredited facilities vs the ones that got denied accreditation: this is telling us that of facilities that earned AZA accreditation, basically none of them meet all the standards at the time. This isn’t talking about tabled accreditations or provisional ones where they come back and check that something improved. Given that math from earlier, this information means that most - if not all - AZA accredited facilities have repeatedly failed to meet all of the standards at one point in time … and have still been accredited anyway.

That tracks with what was said about Cheyenne Mountain Zoo, back in 2021 when they got their perfect accreditation.

“Cheyenne Mountain Zoo has earned an incredibly rare clean report of inspection and its seventh consecutive five-year accreditation from the Association of Zoos and Aquariums (AZA). In nearly 50 years of accreditations, CMZoo is only the fourth organization to earn a ‘clean’ report, which means there wasn’t a single major or minor concern reported”

Seven consecutive accreditation processes - and only one of them where they actually met all the standard at the time.

Here’s what the AZA CEO had to say about Houston’s accreditation achievement in that article, which reinforces my conclusion here:

"AZA president and CEO Dan Ashe says the multi-day inspection process, which occurs every five years, has been described as "comprehensive, exhausting and intimidating."

"We send a team of experts in who spend several days talking to employees, guests and the governing board. They look at animal care and husbandry. They look at the governance structure and finances. They look comprehensively at the organization," Ashe explains. "For a facility like Houston Zoo to have a completely clean accreditation and inspection is extremely rare. These inspectors are experts, it's hard to get to the point where they can't find something.""

Now, here’s the rub. We, as members of the public, will never have any idea which standards it is deemed okay for a given AZA facility to not meet. All of the zoological accrediting groups consider accreditation information proprietary - the only way we find out information about how a facility does during accreditation is if they choose to share it themselves.

On top of that, it’s complicated by the fact that last time I read them AZA had over 212 pages of accreditation standards and related guidance that facilities had to comply with. Now, AZA doesn’t accredit facilities if there are major deviations from their standards, or if there’s an issue on something important or highly contentious. So - based on my completely outsider but heavily researched perspective - this probably means that most zoos are in non-compliance with a couple of standards, but not more than a handful.

To make trying to figure this out even more fun, it is also important to know that AZA’s standards are performance standards: whether or not they’re “met” is based on a subjective assessment performed by the accreditation inspectors and the accreditation committee. This means that what qualifies as fulfilling the standards can and does vary between facilities, depending on who inspected them and the composition of the committee at the time.

So why do I care so much? Because when it comes to public trust, branding matters. AZA has gained a reputation as the most stringent accrediting group in the country - to the point that it can lobby legislators to write exceptions into state and federal laws just for its members - based on how they message about their accreditation program. How intensive it is, how much oversight it provides, what a high level of rigor the facilities are held to. That… doesn’t track with “well, actually, the vast majority of the zoos meet most of the standards most of the time.” People who support AZA - people who visit AZA accredited zoos specifically because of what it means about the quality of the facility - believe that accreditation means all the standards are being met!

To be clear: most AZA zoos do meet some pretty high standards. It’s likely that what are being let slide are pretty minor things. I expect it’s on stuff the facility can improve without too much hassle, and it might be that doing so is probably part of what’s required. There’s not enough information available to people outside the fold. But I will say, I don’t think any zoo is getting accredited despite AZA having knowledge of a serious problem.

Where I take issue with this whole situations is the ethics of the marketing and branding. AZA frames themselves as being the best-of-the-best, the gold standard, when it turns out that most of their accredited zoos aren’t totally in compliance, and they know and it’s fine. They seem to be approaching accreditation like a grade, where anything over a certain amount of compliance is acceptable. The public, though, is being fed a narrative that implies it’s a 99/100 pass/fail type of situation. That’s not super honest, imho, which shows up in how there’s zero transparency with the public about it - it goes unspoken and unacknowledged, except when it’s used for promotional gain.

And then, like, on top of the honesty in marketing part, it’s just… something that gets joked about, which really rubs me the wrong way. Like this statement from the media releases for the Cheyenne Mountain accreditation:

“Another of our ‘We Believe’ statements is, ‘We value laughter as good medicine,’” said Chastain. “To put this clean accreditation into perspective, when I asked Dan Ashe, AZA president and CEO, for his comments about how rare this is, he joked, ‘A completely clean inspection report is so unusual, and so unlikely, it brings one word to mind — bribery!’“

So, TL;DR, even AZA accreditation is designed so that their accredited zoos don’t have to - and mostly don’t - actually fully meet all the standards. I’d love to know more about what types of standards AZA is willing to let slide when they accredit a facility, but given the proprietary nature of that information, it’s pretty unlikely there will ever be more information available. AZA accreditation tells you what standards a zoo aspires to meet, what their approximate ethics are, and what political pool they play in. When it comes to the quality of a facility and their animal care, though, sporting an accreditation acronym is just a piece of the larger puzzle.

[makoodles]

tsu'tey with baby fever

tsu'tey with baby fever

TSU'TEY WITH BABY FEVER

alright babes, ya got me. i got so many asks about how tsu'tey would handle catching baby fever around his little human mate, so here we are! this is kind of a continuation of tìtunu, but it can be read as a standalone either!

pairing: tsu'tey x fem!human reader

word count: 6.8k

tags: fluff, pregnancy mention & discussion, tsu'tey catches baby fever bad, he is also very whipped

masterlist

baby fever

If you were to ask Tsu’tey, he would tell you that he’s never been happier. His life is truly as close to perfect as possible. The Omaticaya have reclaimed the forest as their home, he has established himself as an experienced warrior-teacher, and he has the sweetest little mate he could have ever asked for. It doesn’t matter that you’re human; you fit in his life so perfectly, he can’t stomach the thought of anyone else taking your place.

Life is good. He can’t remember the last time he was this content with himself and his place in the clan. Things are finally getting back to normal now that the Sky People have returned to wherever they came from, and the people are high-spirited and joyful.

When Jakesully and Neytiri choose to take on the child born from Grace’s demon false-Na’vi body, Tsu’tey hardly takes notice. He spends his evenings and nights nuzzling into you and losing himself in your body, and his mornings foraging for fruit for your shared breakfast. It’s an impossibly easy lifestyle, lackadaisical and whimsical, and he enjoys every second of it.

He can’t think of a single damn thing he’d change. At least, he couldn’t. But that starts to change around the time that Neytiri and Jake welcome their first son into the world.

The clan celebrates for days. The birth was quick and easy. Tsu’tey has never seen his old friend glowing so bright, and he joins in with the feasting and the dancing and the singing along with the rest of his People. The elation is almost palpable in the air; the people are happy for their Olo’eyktan and for Neytiri, and they take the easy birth of a strong baby as a good sign for the future.

Neteyam. He is a happy child. Even as a tiny baby, he rarely cries. He just takes in the world around him with wide, curious eyes. Neytiri holds him close and watches him as though she has birthed the personification of her heart, smiling and whispering soft words and songs to him every chance she gets.  

Tsu’tey thinks it’s all very sweet, but that’s really all he thinks about it. He is pleased for his friends, but other than that he doesn’t think too much about things. He is busy, after all; much of his day is spent training the young warriors and hunters. It’s fulfilling, and he enjoys his work.

The change in his thinking doesn’t occur gradually – rather, it hits all at once, like a punch to the gut.

He returns to the village one evening to find your little form next to Neytiri and Jake by the cookfire. His hackles raise instinctively at the sight of you so damn close to Jakesully (an irrational reaction considering he is holding Kiri in his arms and Neytiri is also sitting right there, but he can’t help it), but he relaxes slightly as he approaches and sees that you’re just chatting.

When he gets close and gets a proper look at what you’re holding in your arms, he nearly trips gracelessly over his own feet. 

Even as a newborn, Neteyam is almost comically large in your arms. His pudgy limbs wave in the air, and his big golden eyes gaze up at you in fascination. You return his look right back, your expression soft and awed as you coo at him.

At your side, Neytiri watches your every move carefully. It has taken her some time to warm up to you, given that you’re a living reminder of the people who had caused so much loss and destruction of her planet, but the two of you have slowly but steadily built up a sense of trust between each other. Still, she is visibly cautious when it comes to allowing you to hold the baby.

“Tsu’tey,” Jakesully calls, waving him over with a grin. “Come here, brother. Have you eaten?”

Tsu’tey feels as though he’s been struck between the eyes. He can’t tear his attention away from the baby in your arms nor the way you’re smiling at him. When you finally look up from Neteyam only to smile softly at Tsu’tey instead, he thinks his heart might actually explode. He tries to smile back at you, but he’s sure it comes across as a pained grimace instead. 

His steps are less sure than before when he continues forward, choosing to settle down by your side. His eyes dart down to the baby in your lap and stick there. Neteyam stares back at him – it seems like neither of them quite know what to make of each other.

When he finally looks away from the baby, it’s just in time to see Neytiri and Jakesully exchanging an amused sort of look, as though they’re both trying not to laugh. You, on the other hand, look a little concerned.

“Are you alright?” You murmur, leaning into him.

You’ve rested against him like this a thousand times before, and yet Tsu’tey feels his mouth run dry. Oh, what is happening to him right now?

“Yes.” He says a little woodenly, before turning to Jakesully. “I have not eaten yet.”

Jake is still watching him with an odd little smirk, but he nods and hands him a nikt'chey filled with sweet meat and vegetables. Tsu’tey takes it with an appreciative nod, before tearing a bite out of it a little more savagely than he intended.

You’re still watching him confusedly, but you obviously decide not to ask any further questions. Instead, you look back down at Neteyam and run the pad of your index finger down the bridge of his wide nose. The baby’s mouth opens in a gummy little smile, and you smile behind your breathing mask on reflex.

“Sweet thing,” You coo at Neteyam as his little hands grab at your fingers, and Tsu’tey nearly chokes on his nikt'chey. 

It’s just a baby, he thinks frantically to himself. Pull yourself together.

He’d be lying if he said that he never thought about starting a family with you, but it wasn’t ever a real, serious thought. It was just little daydreams, idle fantasies after mating with you so soft and lovingly and leaving you full of his release. But now, seeing you holding Jakesully and Neytiri’s baby, he starts thinking of you carrying his own baby. Thinks of you plump and round, belly swollen with the baby he put in you.

His fingers squeeze the wrap a little too hard, and some of the filling spills out over his fingers. 

 Jake laughs, a stupid little snicker that has Tsu’tey scowling at him. It’s unlikely that the Olo’eyktan knows exactly what he’s been thinking, but the demon has always been perceptive – he likely has a vague idea. Tsu’tey imagines that his expression has likely been rather telling.

“Hey,” Jakesully says suddenly. “Why don’t you hold Kiri for a moment?”

Tsu’tey goes still, before checking over his shoulder in case Jake was talking to someone else.

“Ah,” He says, a little uncomfortably. “I do not think-”

“Oh, yes!” You smile, shifting your hold on Neteyam so that he’s cradled to your chest as you look up at Tsu’tey. “You haven’t met either of the babies properly yet, have you?”

“I attended their birth celebrations-”

“That’s not meeting them.” You interrupt with an eyeroll, before gesturing Jake’s way.

Tsu’tey is still protesting when Jake deposits the other baby in his arms, and he stiffens as he scrambles to support Kiri’s head as it lolls on her weak little neck. His nikt'chey falls half-eaten to the ground as he tries to hold the baby as securely as possible.

If Neteyam looked small in your hands, Kiri looks tiny in his. Something in his stomach twists. Oh. Alright then.

“Aren’t they so cute?” You whisper to him, laying your head against his bicep and grinning down at the baby in his hands.

Tsu’tey just grunts. He’s not sure that he’ll actually be capable of making words right now if he tries.

His reticence doesn’t bother you – you’re so patient with him, never minding all that much when he goes broodingly silent. You’re so good at giving him space and time to think, to come to terms with all the thoughts that spin wildly around his head. But now, the space you offer only gives him more time to consider things that he really shouldn’t be considering.

“Yeah,” Jakesully drawls, and he wraps an arm around Neytiri’s shoulders before pressing a kiss to her temple. “We make cute babies.”

“You didn’t even make Kiri yourselves.” You point out with a laugh, rocking Neteyam softly against your chest as he lets out a quiet little babbling sound.

“Yeah, she just picked up on the cuteness by being around us,” Jake grins. “Like that science shit. What’s it called… osmosis.”

“That’s not how osmosis works, moron-”

Tsu’tey hardly hears a word either of you are saying. Kiri is shifting in his hands, her tiny pink mouth opening as she yawns with a flash of her gums. Her hair is downy and soft, and her tiny hands clench around air as she reaches out, seeking a grip on anything. Were all babies this lovely? He had no idea – he’s never really been around any. 

His gaze slides sideways, towards you once more. On a good day he finds it difficult to keep his eyes off you, but now? With you holding a little Na’vi baby to your chest as though it’s all so perfectly natural, and smiling as though you’ve never been happier? Now, he’s finding it impossible to keep his eyes off you. 

He would make cute babies with you. He just knows it. 

A throat is cleared, and Tsu’tey is jarred from his thoughts. When he looks up, he finds that Neytiri is looking at him with a particularly knowing look. You’re still talking to Jake, laughing at whatever he’s saying, but Tsu’tey still grows flustered. He feels caught.

“Take her back.” He says, his voice gruff as he proffers the baby back to her parents.

Kiri’s tails waves lazily in mid-air before wrapping around his wrist, and Tsu’tey nearly crumbles entirely. Why was this happening right now? He was fine before this – now, he feels as though his mind is melting into absolute mush.

Neytiri raises an eyebrow at him, clearly unimpressed by his manner, but she accepts the baby back all the same. Kiri gurgles, and Neytiri coos softly at her before holding her protectively to her breast.

Still embarrassed at having been caught out, Tsu’tey’s eyes slide right back to you. This time though, you’re looking back at him. Neteyam’s head is resting sleepily against your chest and you’re stroking at the fluffy bits of hair on his head, but you’re watching him closely. There’s a little crease between your brows – you look concerned.

You look to Jake, and offer Neteyam out with a smile. “Better take the little guy too, then.”

Jake takes his son back, and Tsu’tey watches with a twitching tail as he smiles down at his son so proudly. He doesn’t fully realise that he’s staring until he feels your small little hand on his forearm, and then he looks down to see you peering up into his face. He knows that you would be able to read him all too easily, so he hurries to wipe his expression clean.

“Are you okay?” You whisper, low so that Jake and Neytiri can’t hear. “You’re quiet. Even more so than usual, I mean.”

“I am fine, ma’muntxate,” He says mechanically. He thinks once again of you with a rounded belly, happy and sated in your shared kelku, and wonders if his brain is rotting.

You’re still squinting at him, clearly unconvinced. “Is it because you dropped your food? I can get you more-”

“No,” He says, though it comes out distracted and unconvincing. “I am tired. I will go to bed now.”

“But don’t you want-”

Tsu’tey has always prided himself on being a fearless warrior, a mighty hunter. And yet in that moment, he ran from the cookfire like a coward to take refuge in the dark shelter of the kelku where no one could see how shamefaced he was.

Tsu’tey is embarrassed to admit that for several days, he avoids you like the plague.

He’s afraid that you’ll read his thoughts right off his face. He can barely even make eye contact with you. Now that he’s started thinking about it, it feels like he can’t think of anything else.

The thoughts of family, of children, have set into his thoughts like an infection. The thought of you carrying his baby is wonderful (and the thought of making the baby even better) but that’s not the only place his thoughts stray to. He thinks of raising the child, with you by his side. 

Parenthood doesn’t suit everyone, he knows that, but you? You have so much unconditional love to give, he knows that you would be wonderful. When he thinks of himself as a father, a curl of excitement licks at his stomach. He imagines how it would feel to hold his child close, to teach them the ways of the people, how to hunt and provide. He thinks of how he would teach you how to weave a songcord, how you could both add on to it for every milestone.

It’s not fair, and he knows that. He was content before – he is content now. His life is good. He doesn’t need anything else, but he just… he can’t help but think. You are stronger than you look, but you are still delicate. There are many things your body can take, but a Na’vi pregnancy? Not likely. And that’s assuming that you actually could get pregnant. You may be sexually compatible, but that doesn’t mean that you’re going to be reproductively compatible. And that’s fine – really!

He’ll get over this moment of madness, he just needs a little bit of space to get his thoughts together. 

He spends the next few days hunting deep in the forest, or lurking around the village in spots that you’re not likely to come looking for him. He ends up spending a lot of time in the hot springs north of the village, hoping that the hot water will soothe the ache in his shoulders from all that tension he’s been carrying around.

He had thought that he was being subtle, but he is not entirely oblivious to the looks that he’s been getting from others around the village. It was rare for him to spend so much time away from you, and he knows that everyone is wondering about it.

“Trouble in paradise?” Jakesully asks one day, following him around the village like an unwanted little pest.

“What?” Tsu’tey snaps; he is still unused to those irritating little human idioms.

“What is going on with you, man?” Jake asks, reaching out to grab at his arm.

Tsu’tey wrenches his arm free and bares his teeth in warning. Jake throws his hands up in surrender, but he doesn’t look sorry. 

“Nothing is wrong.” Tsu’tey grumbles, rolling his shoulders and attempting to look unaffected.

Jakesully just raises an eyebrow. “Right. Look, whatever you argued about, just talk to her-”

Tsu’tey is surprised at that, though he tries not to show it. “We have not argued.”

“No?” Jake’s brows furrow. “Oh. Well, why are you being so weird, then? She’s all upset, you know. Thinks that you’re angry with her.”

Tsu’tey’s stomach sinks. Fuck, he knew that he was handling this badly. Now he’s gotten himself into one big mess.

Jakesully is still looking at him thoughtfully, but then his expression unfolds into realisation. “Oh, man. Is this about the baby thing?”

Tsu’tey nearly chokes at that. How could Jakesully have known?

“What?”

“Oh, come on,” Jake rolls his shoulders, and glances around quickly to ensure that no one is listening in. Tsu’tey has a furtive look around of his own, and then Jake is leaning in to talk quietly, “Look, I’m not judging. When Neytiri said she wants kids, I swear I couldn’t keep my hands off her-”

Tsu’tey whirls, baring his teeth in warning, but Jake just keeps going.

“Just talk to her, skxawng. It doesn’t matter if you have some weird pregnancy kink-”

“I do not!”

“She’s been sniffling around the place for days now, thinking that you’re not into her anymore!” Jake steamrolls over his protests. “Just tell her you want babies and that you’ve been acting like a total dickhead about it. You know she’ll forgive you, but she has to understand first.”

Tsu’tey stands there, feeling as though he had just been slapped around the head. 

“She thinks I am not interested in her?” He repeats, bewildered. “But- we have mated before Eywa. She is my mate. How could I lose interest?”

Jakesully has a look of longsuffering about him, as though this conversation is ageing him years. “Yeah, well. Didn’t I tell you before that mating doesn’t work the same for humans? She’s worried you changed your mind.”

Tsu’tey is absolutely floored. He had tied himself to you for life when he had mated with you. Every success and failure, every triumph and heartbreak, every low and high, it was all to be shared with you. There would never be anyone else – the thought of there being anyone else made his stomach rebel. 

“Why would she not tell me that she is feeling like this?” He wonders, a little hurt.

He’s not expecting the harsh shove that comes to his shoulder, and he hisses at Jakesully before stepping out of the way of another hit.

“You’re avoiding her, moron!” Jake snaps, apparently having officially lost patience. “How the hell can she tell you anything if you keep running from her?”

Tsu’tey’s ears flatten. He recognises that he is being unreasonable, and he shuffles uncomfortably on his feet.

“My desires are not fair to her,” He mumbles, shame-faced. “She is enough for me, she will always be enough for me, but I keep thinking…” He trails off, uncertain about how to voice his feelings. “I am thinking of possibilities.”

Jakesully is watching him with an expression that is uncomfortably knowing.

Tsu’tey clears his throat, embarrassed and irritable over his vulnerability. “She was very good with your children. Did you see?”

Jake’s face twitches into a smirk. “Yeah, man. I saw. Your reaction was pretty obvious.”

He grumbles, but doesn’t see any point in arguing. It probably was obvious.

Jake sighs, and reaches out to push at his shoulder again. This time it’s more gentle. “Go on. Go talk to her. This is stuff that she should be hearing.”

Jakesully has a point, to Tsu’tey’s irritation, and he bows his head.

“I will talk to her.” Tsu’tey mumbles, looking away.

As it happens, Tsu’tey doesn’t have to go looking for you at all. You find him.

He’s in the forest outside the village, hovering around the stream as he waits to spot a fish, when you emerge from the trees behind him.

His ears perk up in surprise at the sight of you. “What are you doing here, ma’yawntu? It is not safe for you to come into the forest alone-”

You don’t appear to be listening to him at all. Your eyes are narrowed and you glare at him as you hop down the rocks so that you can stand in front of him. When he reaches out to help you climb down to the shore of the river, you slap his hands away with a scowl.

“For fuck’s sake, will you just tell me what’s wrong?” You hiss, your expression all crumpled up and hurt. “Jake said that you weren’t angry at me, but I don’t understand why you’re avoiding me like this!”

His ears pin back against his head. He had planned to come and find you, but now it feels as though he’s been cornered. He hasn’t planned what he was going to say to you, and he finds himself floundering. How could he tell you? There was no easy way to put his desires into words.

“Of course I am not angry at you.” He mumbles, slinging his bow over his shoulder. After a beat of hesitation, he steps forward so that he’s kneeling in front of you at eye-level. “Sweet girl. I am sorry.”

“For what?” You demand. Your expression is all scrunched – he is confusing you, and his stomach sinks at the realisation that he has been upsetting you so much.

His tail lashes anxiously. How is he supposed to look you in the eyes and confess this? It is so selfish of him.

“You were very good with the babies.” He murmurs, fixing his gaze on your shoulder. 

Even without looking directly at your face, he can see your look of bewilderment. To you, that probably seems like a non-sequitur. 

“The babies?”

“Mm.” 

You’re still staring at him blankly. “Are you trying to change the subject?”

“No,” He mumbles, his cheeks growing hot with embarrassment. “It is the same subject.”

Very slowly, comprehension is beginning to dawn over your face. “So all this is about babies?”

Oh, he wants the ground to open up beneath him and swallow him whole. You must think him disgusting. Do you think he is a bad mate? It is so selfish of him to wish for this, after all.

“Oh, Tsu’tey,” You sigh. “You idiot.”

His ears flatten as he frowns at you. “Why idiot?”

When you step forward and loop your arms around his shoulders, he perks up a little. Does this mean that you are not angry with him?

“Why wouldn’t you talk to me about this, skxawng?” You murmur, reaching out to run your fingers through his beaded braids. His eyelids flutter at the pleasant feeling and he leans into your hands. “You want a family?”

“You are my family.” He says quickly, shifting on his knees before raising his hands to rest against your little hips. That makes you smile.

“I know,” You breathe, thumb stroking over his cheek. “I know that. But I’m asking you about children.”

Tsu’tey’s sure that his pupils have expanded, and he can feel his tail swishing slowly from side to side. You’re not judging him at all; you’re just waiting for an honest answer. He feels his heart swell impossibly larger.

“I… have been thinking about it,” He says. His voice is low and embarrassed, but he raises his gaze so that he’s looking right into your eyes. “About you having my children.”

It feels like a dirty little secret, but you’re smiling at him so fondly. 

“Yeah?” You breathe, grinning. “Well, why the fuck were you hiding from me, then?”

His ears twitch. “It felt… selfish, tìyawn. To wish for something you cannot give.”

That makes you frown. “Can’t give?”

His thumb strokes over your waist, his eyes drawn to your belly. “You are so small. You could not carry my child. It would be too dangerous, even if it were possible.”

You’re watching him thoughtfully, lips pursed. “Is this like, a thing for you? You just want to see me pregnant?”

He certainly can’t deny his interest in that, but it’s important that you know that’s not just it.

“Not only that,” He murmurs, leaning forward to kiss the base of your throat. “I keep thinking… I think of you raising our child. I think of teaching them, of loving them. You would be wonderful with them, I know it. And I… I would like fatherhood, I think.”

Your expression has gone so soft, and when you lean in to kiss the top of his ear a shudder rips through him. His hands tighten around your waist, and he leans in to nuzzle insistently at your throat. 

Oh, this little confession feels like having a weight lifted from his shoulders. You weren’t angry at him – you just listened, so full of understanding. How could he have expected anything less from you?

“Tsu’tey,” You murmur, tilting your head back with a sigh as he nips a soft kiss into your throat. “Come with me.”

He glances up at that, interest piqued. “Where?”

“The science outpost.”

Oh, now you have his attention. He perks up in delight, and moves to stand immediately. You have not lived among the other humans in the science outpost since you had mated with Tsu’tey and moved into his kelku, but that does not mean that you have not been back to the little human encampment since. It is the only place where it is safe for you to remove your breathing mask, and so the two of you make good use of your old bunk whenever you feel the need to.

“Let’s go then.” Tsu’tey says, doing a poor job at concealing his eagerness.

You just laugh, and take his hand as he leads the way through the forest. Several times he gets a little too impatient when you slowly clamber over roots or rocks, and he ends up scooping you right up into his arms as he barrels his way through the forest. 

The science outpost isn’t too far away, but it still feels as though it takes an age to reach it. When the shoddy building finally looms up in the distance, Tsu’tey feels his stomach leap. It has been too long since he’s had full access to his little mate’s face, and he longs to kiss you properly. What will likely follow after the kissing is even more thrilling, and he feels his tail lash eagerly at the thought of taking you in that cramped little bed.

You’re laughing at his eagerness as he attempts to shoulder his way inside the building, clenching his jaw in irritation as he’s forced to wait for the pressurised doors to close behind them and regulate the atmosphere before the two of you are allowed past the entryway.

“Someone’s excited.” You say coyly, reaching up to remove your mask as soon as the doors slide open with a hiss, allowing you to enter the outpost properly.

Tsu’tey doesn’t care that several of the human scientists turn to look at the two of you when you step inside. He has not had access to your face for over a week now, and he catches you by the waist before leaning in for a quick, passionate kiss. He is excited, and he likes letting you know exactly how you make him feel.

The scientists are very used to the two of you by now, and he can hear them start to hastily gather up their things as they prepare to give you some privacy.

Good, He thinks smugly. They know when to leave.

But then, to his confusion, you break away from him. 

“Wait, Norm!” You call out.

The lanky human scientist pauses, looking up with a visible wince. He looks anxious at the sight of you, and his gaze cuts towards Tsu’tey with a grimace.

“Ah. Hey.” He says weakly, lowering his files back down to the desk he had just scrambled to pick them from. “We’re actually headed out now! So, um, you can do whatever-”

“No,” You say quickly, growing visibly flustered at the insinuation. “We’re not here for that.”

Tsu’tey’s head swivels around to look at you, his brow drawing low. “We are not?”

You ignore him, swatting absently at his side as you focus on Norm. “Where’s Spider?”

Norm is looking from you to Tsu’tey, and Tsu’tey is looking blankly back at him. He has no more idea about what you’re doing here than the scientist does – especially since it appears that you hadn’t brought him here with mating in mind. He feels a little put out, honestly.

“He, uh… He’s been running wild all morning. He’s totally tuckered out now – he’s sleeping in the back.” Norm says at last, pointing a thumb over his shoulder.

“Thanks,” You smile at him, before reaching to take Tsu’tey’s hand in yours. 

He goes easily when you tug at him, following you with a confused scowl as you lead him towards the back of the building. When you lead him into the living quarters, he looks wistfully towards your old bunk, but you pull him on insistently.

“Why are we here?” He mumbles, still scowling a little. He is happy to be here with you, but he doesn’t understand why you’ve brought him amongst the Sky People.

For a moment, you don’t answer. You just pull the little CO2 regulator off your bunk where it had been left the last time he was here, and push the breathing mask into his hands. He takes it with a grumble, and takes a deep inhale before looping it around his neck.

“I want to show you something.” You say simply, before raising his big hand to your mouth and pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

His ears rotate forward, pleased with the sensation of your soft lips against his skin. Unable to deny you anything, he follows you without complaint.

As you approach the back of the room, ducking under the privacy curtains, his ears pick up on soft, snuffling breathing. 

“What is that?” He mutters to you, tugging at your hand.

You hush him, before pulling back one last privacy curtain to reveal a small bunk. The bed is occupied by a figure so small that Tsu’tey squints at it in bewilderment. It is a human child, obviously, no older than two years old, but he hadn’t ever imagined that human babies were so small.

Your eyes are fixed carefully onto his face as he steps forward to peer down at the child, but he doesn’t look at you. The child is fast asleep, his mouth dropped open as a little bit of drool glistens on his cheek. Golden, tangled curls are plastered to his forehead, and he snuffles sleepily as he nuzzles into the pillow under his head. He’s clearly being well-fed, but there are streaks of dirt around his plump face and across his legs.

“The science guys have been taking care of him as best as they can, especially Norm,” You murmur, your voice very soft to avoid waking the baby. “But you know how they are. Sometimes they forget to eat and shower themselves, nevermind a baby.”

Tsu’tey is still watching the child sleep, a confused frown beginning to creep across his face. He is not stupid. He has heard of this child before. His existence alone has been controversial for the People, though he has gone unseen and unheard of for the most part. Are you suggesting what he thinks you’re suggesting?

“He has no one,” You whisper to him, soothing in the dim light of the room. “I’ve been thinking of suggesting this for a while, but I wasn’t sure how you’d take it.”

“Yawntutsyìp, I know who this child’s father is.” He tries to keep his voice low like you, but he can’t help the rough edge that has crept in. 

“He has no father.” You whisper back stubbornly. “He has no mother. Look at him.”

Ears flat, Tsu’tey obeys. His eyes travel over the child’s grimy skin, and he grimaces as his tail tucks low. 

“He is a sky demon.” He grumbles, though he is already leaning closer to look at the child’s face.

“So am I,” You point out grimly. “You don’t always get to choose how your children turn out, you know.”

His children. Tentatively, he reaches out and rubs at a spot of dirt on the child’s leg. Instead of flinching away from his touch like he had expected, Spider leans into his hand. His throat tightens, and he wonders how often this child actually experiences physical contact – even asleep, he chases after it as though he’s starved of it.

“How will he breathe in the village?” Tsu’tey wonders, brow furrowed. “Your masks will not fit him.”

From the corner of his eye, he can see you biting at your lip. He realises that he’s just inadvertently conceded to you, and he tries not to sigh.

“Norm has made him a smaller one that will fit.” You murmur, edging closer to him. “You’re thinking about it?”

“It will be hard for him.” Tsu’tey is frowning, reaching for your hand and squeezing lightly at your hands to ensure that you’re listening to him. “He is too small. Too weak. This world is not made for him, and the People will find it difficult to accept him.”

You hum softly and edge closer, laying your head against his shoulder. The proximity makes him relax a little against you, and he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“You could say the same about me, you know.” You say pointedly, nuzzling at his shoulder. “But you’ve taken care of me so far. I know you’d look after him, too.”

Even in this circumstance, he preens lightly under your praise. It means a lot to hear that you believe him to be a strong care-taker and a good provider, to both you and to a possible child.

“If we don’t care for him, he’ll be raised here,” You breathe. “He won’t get any proper care. Look at him – he’s not even two yet, and he’s being overlooked already. He needs attention, and looking after. And you just told me that you are willing to offer those things to a child.”

He is already nodding. He can see that you’re right – the human scientists are not capable of raising anything, they are not capable of seeing. They lack the ability to connect to anything, only able to appreciate his planet on a surface level. 

Your attention shifts back to the child on the bed, and your face softens into a smile. “Hey, Spider. You remember me?”

Tsu’tey’s head snaps back around to find that the baby has awoken, and is staring up at him with wide eyes. Tsu’tey stares back, uneasy and curious. Slowly, Spider nods.

Your smile brightens. “This is Tsu’tey. Can you say hello?”

Spider does not say hello, but he does sit up so that he can peer curiously into Tsu’tey’s face. He doesn’t appear afraid at all, and Tsu’tey wonders if he is the first Na’vi that he has ever seen.

“Hello,” Tsu’tey rumbles, his English heavily accented.

The child’s fearlessness is admirable, especially in the face of one so much larger than him. Tsu’tey finds himself reluctantly impressed.

“Come here,” You murmur, reaching out your hands.

Tsu’tey watches with avid interest as the child crawls forward into your arms. You wrap him into your arms and pull him against your chest, stroking his mess of curls as he lays his head against your shoulder. What a quiet little thing.

Something odd curls in his chest at the sight. His small human mate, holding such a tiny human child. Cautiously, he curls his arm around your shoulders and feels you lean into him.

Oh, he thinks. The rush of emotions at the feeling of holding his mate and a child in his arms is startling, and he takes a deep breath as he nuzzles his nose into your hair. It feels right.

“I will have to finish building the rope bridge to our kelku,” He grumbles. “He will need a safe way of getting up there without breaking his neck. The ladder will not be enough for one so small.”

A big grin is blooming across your face, and you twist around to look at him over your shoulder. “Protective daddy mode activated already, huh?”

He doesn’t understand half of what that means, but he can’t stop the eager thump of his tail. Yes, he will be a good father. He will keep the child safe.

A very tiny smile begins to curl around his mouth, and he brushes his nose along your shoulder. With his face hidden from you, he finally has the courage to say, “I have always wanted a big family.”

He feels your little laugh more than he hears it, and then you say, “I have something else to show you.”

When you stand up straight, Spider clings to you. It’s a sweet sight. He doesn’t look like a demon, like this. He looks small and delicate and weak.

“Hey,” You murmur to Spider. “Want to go up high?”

When the child nods, you turn and hand him to Tsu’tey. He freezes, staring at the child that you’re offering him. Spider stares back at him, wide-eyed and inquisitive as his limbs dangle in the air. 

“He wants to go on your shoulders,” You whisper pointedly, raising your eyebrows.

“Ah.” Tsu’tey manages, finally reaching to take him. It’s scarier than he had expected, taking the child into his hands. Spider is very small, and Tsu’tey’s hands practically dwarf him.

When Tsu’tey reaches to settle the baby on his shoulders, Spider’s tiny hands grab at his braids and tangle there. A quiet, almost impossible to hear, little laugh comes out of his mouth, and Tsu’tey feels the child leaning heavily against him for balance.

You’re looking up at them both so softly, and you smile as you reach to tug at Tsu’tey’s hand. As always, he follows you without asking questions.

When the two of you emerge from the living quarters with Spider on Tsu’tey’s shoulders, the two of you are subject to a lot of raised eyebrows and surprised sort of looks. Tsu’tey meets those looks with a dangerous glare of his own, and the curious human scientists are quick to look away.

He follows you through the laboratory, one of his hands settled cautiously over Spider’s very tiny thigh to prevent him from falling off his shoulders. Every so often the child will giggle softly, and one of Tsu’tey’s ears will flick in response.

At the back of the lab, there’s a large glass tank, and you gesture at it as you approach. 

“Do you know what that is?” You ask, reaching out to tap lightly at the glass.

Tsu’tey frowns at it. The tube is not empty. It’s full of some kind of liquid, and floating in it is a body that is very familiar. It’s Grace. Or at least, what was once Grace’s avatar.

“A tube.” He says, rather unintelligently. He does not want to admit his ignorance, but you pick up on it anyway.

“Avatars are grown in tubes just like this.” You say, peering in at Grace with a sad smile. “Whole Na’vi bodies grown from half human, half Na’vi DNA. Impressive, isn’t it?”

“Demon technology.” Tsu’tey comments with a frown. Spider shifts on his shoulders, and he hurries to adjust his grip on the child.

You roll your eyes. “I thought you’d be used to demon technology by now, muntxatan,” His tail swishes at the term of endearment, but you just smile and continue, “My body might not be able to sustain a hybrid pregnancy, but it doesn’t need to. There’s no reason that this demon technology couldn’t be used to grow a baby from human and Na’vi DNA. It’d be kind of like IVF, in a way.”

That gives Tsu’tey pause, and he turns to look at the tube with a new perspective. He had never considered that the demon technology could be used for something like that. It is… a lot to absorb.

“You don’t have to think too much about it just yet,” Your voice is so soft, as though you know he has been overloaded. “But if you want a big family… well. I just wanted you to know that it’s possible.”

He doesn’t have the first idea of what to say. He has gone from believing that he was aberrant for wishing for this with you and being terrified to so much as voice his desires, to agreeing to take on a little demon baby, and already planning for more. 

His ears swivel, his eyes wide and thoughtful. Slowly, he nods.

“We will discuss more later,” He murmurs, bringing his free hand low to rest on your lower back as Spider tugs at his braids. “We must take the child back to our kelku, first.”

“What’s the rush?” You ask, teasing at him.

Tsu’tey squares his shoulders, some of his old confidence returning. This is a challenge he is fit for, he’s sure of it. He will provide for his tiny weak mate and his new tiny weak son, and he will protect them to the best of his ability. You have been quick to learn the ways of the People – Spider will learn too, with guidance. His mouth twitches at the thought of teaching him customs, teaching him how to hunt, making him a songcord. All those nonsense dreams he had, now a reality.

“I have to finish that rope bridge.”

[sourholland]

timeless; thomas shelby

This idea has been plaguing my mind for days, I cannot get it out of my head. I’m not sure if I will make any more parts of this, it all depends on how I feel about it and if it is well received. The timeline of this is skewed on purpose, it’s also heavily based on Tommy’s time fighting during the war. Timeless by Taylor Swift was a huge inspiration.

Both you and Tommy became unlikely friends during childhood, only for you to realize you had always loved him. Tommy finds himself seeing you in a different light, only war being able to separate the two of you. (3.5k)

Thomas Shelby was the first and only boy you had ever loved.

It was 1902, Tommy was twelve years old. He played with your older brother, they went out into the street with the Shelby brothers and few other boys from the neighborhood and kicked a ball around. You were eight, trailing your brother Joseph at every chance you had.

When you met Tommy, it was because you had chased after your brother one August afternoon with the intention to join their game of kickball. The moment you approached the large group of prepubescent boys, Joseph looked absolutely mortified. Even though he was older than some of the boys, at fourteen, he still followed all of Tommy’s orders. This, you didn’t understand.

“Go home,” he leaned down to your level in gritted teeth.

“I just want to play, just one game,” you pleaded with him. “Please, Joey.”

“No,” he barked. “Y/N, you gotta get out of here.”

Feeling your face heat up, you were near tears and embarrassed in front of all of the older boys. Joseph would not let up, angry at you for trying to play with him and his friends.

“What the fuck d’she want?” Arthur bellowed towards your brother.

Peering over at him, you could tell that he was not very patient and was even older than Joseph. After Arthur had yelled, you turned back to go home. Hot tears spilled down your cheeks as you shuffled back to where you lived and went inside to play alone.

“Fuckin’ asshole is what you are,” Tommy shook his head a bit. “Game’s not fuckin’ hard or anythin’, Joe. She could have played.”

That was all they ever said again on the matter, your brother never brought it up to you that night and you never spoke of it to him. It wasn’t until later on that month that anyone had approached you about what happened that day in Small Heath.

You were sent out to pick up your mother’s cigarettes, dragging your feet along the dirt path with the coin in your hand. Every Wednesday, you made the same trek. Tommy Shelby came up on your right side as you walked one day, you saw a screwdriver sticking out of his pocket and nearly shuttered. The kids around the neighborhood spoke of him in hushed whispers, calling him a gypsy and saying he and his brothers carried razor blades around with them.

“You’re Joe’s sister, aren’t you?” He asked, peering over at you. “Tried to join in on a game a while back?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “I’m Y/N.”

He hummed in response, kicking dirt with his shoe as you both walked. He was much taller than you, though he was still quite narrow and scrawny. Truthfully, there was no denying that you had a little bit of a schoolgirl crush on him.

“Where’re you headed?” He finally spoke up.

“Grabbing my mum’s cigarettes,” you told him with a sigh. “She sends me out every week to pick some up.”

At the time, you had no clue why Tommy had followed you all the way to the shop and then walked you home. He never gave you any inclination either. Then, he did the same the next week. He came outside when you passed his house and you walked together. This occurred every week after the first.

Of course, you assumed this meant he liked you and this caused you to revel in the attention just a little. Tommy would talk to you about school and horses mostly, he was kind to you.

About six months after you and Tommy had developed this weekly routine, you mentioned something to your brother about it and he teased you about having a crush on Tommy. Making the mistake of saying he must’ve liked you back if he continued to walk along with you, Joseph was quite cruel in return.

“He doesn’t do it because he likes to,” Joseph laughed. “Father started pestering me to walk with you when he found out you were being picked on in school, bothered and such by the boys around. I started to give Tommy a bit of my allowance to walk with you so dad would finally get off my fucking back.”

You no longer walked to the shops on Wednesdays.

Tommy waited for you the next week, but you never left out front and began past his house. The week after, he did the same and you still did not come.

“Y/N!” Your mother’s voice came up the staircase on Thursday morning. “Come to the door.”

Tommy stood there in the walkway to your home, talking with your mother about something as you came down the steps. She left you to walk outside together and down the stairs into the street.

“You’re not getting your mum’s cigarettes anymore?” He asked you suddenly.

“No, I am,” you told him. “Just don’t want to walk with you anymore.”

He seemed taken aback by this, not used to the idea of you sticking your nose up at him and looking the other way when he tried to talk to you. Tommy knew you were smitten with him, he didn’t mind it. He thought you were nice enough, he liked to walk with you every week. He just didn’t see you the same way that you saw him, you were too young and too curious about certain things.

“Why’s that?” He shot back a little annoyed.

“Joey told me that he’s been paying you to do it, to make sure nobody messes with me.”

“And?” Tommy asked. “Doesn’t really fuckin’ matter if you ask me, whether he’s payin’ me or not.”

This made you roll your eyes, shaking your head at him and leaning against the brick of one of the alleyways you walked down. Tommy was confused as to why this bothered you so much, truthfully it didn’t really matter about the money to him. It helped him to buy cigarettes, that was all. He didn’t mind walking along with you, though. He would’ve done it without the payout.

“It matters to me,” you told him. “I don’t need looking after or anything like that.”

Turning on your heel, you thought that you’d been able to get the last word. Little did you know, nobody but Tommy got the last word. He only realized you had decided to go out on Saturdays, rather than Wednesdays. He told Joseph that he wouldn’t be requiring payment anymore and you walked in silence for over a month before you spoke to him on your walks again.

His stubbornness irked you, leaving you infuriatingly mad at his inability to leave you alone. Your cheeks went hot when he came around, stomach in knots whenever he would say your name.

Over the years, you had tried to shake your feelings for Tommy. This was mostly due to the fact that you had grown attached in a way that allowed you to call him a friend. By the time you were eleven, Tommy had taught you how to ride his horse. He spent an entire summer working with you. He was fifteen and definitely had plenty of better things to do, but he spent hours upon hours in the grueling sun with you.

“Tommy,” you said, laying sprawled out on a patch of grass one afternoon when you were thirteen and he was seventeen. “D’you want to come ‘round to mine for supper tonight? Mum asked me to invite you over.”

The last bit was a lie, you truly just wanted Tommy to join you. He inhaled shortly before propping himself up on his hand and looking over at you.

“Can’t tonight, m’sorry,” he apologized to you.

“Why not?” You asked curiously, assuming he’d saying something about having to be with his brothers or Polly.

“I’ve actually asked a girl out,” he confessed to you. “I’m planning to take her out tonight.”

This was one of the few times Tommy discussed his love life with you. Your friendship mostly consisted of doing other things, less intrusive things. He still really saw you as a younger sister type of figure in a way. He thoroughly enjoyed your company, but there was no denying his attraction to the girls he saw in school.

Once, Tommy told you about Arthur bringing home a prostitute. He didn’t tell you why he did it, or what they did. Only laughed it off, unbeknownst to him that you really didn’t know what a prostitute was. Joseph had called them whores, but you lived a rather sheltered lifestyle and none of the older people around you ever spoke about such things in front of you.

Tommy took girls out, he’d had several girlfriends as you approached your later teenage years. Your friendship, however, never faltered. When you were seventeen years old, you remember going out riding with him and telling him how you wanted to make something of yourself beyond what Small Heath had to offer. Planning to become a schoolteacher, Tommy had always admired this about you.

“Don’t you want to be something other than all this?” You asked him, alluding to the fact that he was growing more and more responsible for the Peaky Blinders. “I mean, I just wondered if you ever had other dreams.”

“I’d like to work with horses,” he told you quietly, running his hands over the mare’s mane.

“Why don’t you?” You questioned him. “I know you feel some sense of responsibility over your family, I think it’s one of your best traits. Don’t you ever want to just—I don’t know, live a less tormenting life?”

Tommy played with the reins, looking at you and shrugging. This was all he’d ever known, and all he would ever know. There was no Birmingham without Tommy Shelby, you knew it as well as anyone. It still hurt, though. Knowing he was playing with fire every day, testing God, as your mother had called it.

Once Tommy had grown more involved in the gang, your parents no longer allowed him to come over to the house. They detested you seeing him at all, your brother most of all. He settled quickly, marrying a woman and starting a family.

Tommy realized he loved you when he was twenty two years old. He’d known you for ten years, having called you his best friend for a decade. You were eighteen years old and had just begun training to become a teacher, you were commuting frequently and saw Tommy less and less.

It was that Christmas when you’d introduced him to the man you had been courting, his name was Michael. When he shook the man’s hand, Tommy felt something inside of him shift. Suddenly, you were no longer that little girl with scuffed shoes and long pigtails. He saw a young woman with ambition and heart, but you were no longer holding out for Tommy like you had for nearly ten years.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Arthur came up and clapped Tommy on the back of the shoulder. “S’fucking Christmas and you’re really bringing my spirits down.”

Tommy said nothing, downing more whiskey as he watched Michael spin you around in a dance. You were in a fit of laughter, smiling at him adoringly.

“Be serious, brother,” Arthur sighed, drunk and wondering how Tommy could truly be as he was. “You can’t tell me that you’re sitting over here in the corner drinking away your sorrows because she’s brought along some bloke.”

“Fuck off, won’t you?” Tommy shot him a look.

“Unbelievable,” Arthur walked away laughing.

It was completely and utterly unbelievable, not only to Arthur, but to Tommy as well. He’d spent years with you, practically praying that you would find someone, anyone to avert your feelings too. As you grew older, you also were able to hide your feelings and emotions better in Tommy’s case.

He watched you the entire night, nodding a farewell when he noticed you trying to approach him. He had no intention of speaking to Michael again, for fear that he may be physically ill.

His hope that it was a passing courtship died with what looked to be your close friendship. The two of you hardly saw each other anymore, animosity forming between you after the night of the Christmas party.

Months later, Tommy found himself at your apartment door when Ada had told him that you mentioned thinking Michael was planning to propose. He left to see you after midnight, walking the entire distance to where you lived and putting himself at your front door well past one in the morning.

“Y/N,” he called out as he knocked. “It’s Tommy.”

Opening the door, you were only left in your nightdress. Your hair was down completely, something Tommy had not seen since you were some years younger. He could not help but to notice the sheer material of the fabric, the buds of your nipples showing through.

“Tommy?” You yawned. “What’re you doing here?”

“I needed to talk to you,” he told you.

“Now? It’s the middle of the night.”

Ushering him in, you let him shut the door behind him and tried to rub the sleep out of your eyes. Tommy felt himself growing hard, looking at you in such a state.

“Y/N, don’t marry him,” Tommy blurted out in almost a whisper.

“What?” You looked at him, shocked. “What did you say?”

“Don’t marry him, don’t marry Michael.”

There was a stillness to the room, a silence that made you almost sick. His face was somehow stoic, but pleading at the same time. His eyes bored into your own, as if they were making it impossible to get a word out.

“He is a good man, Tommy,” you said. “He wants to take care of me, to make me happy.”

“With plenty of money and security, with a practical occupation and a good legacy to leave your children?” Tommy asked, sarcasm incredibly evident.

“Yes, Tommy. Fuck, I mean is that what you want me to say? That he can give me a good life? Why should it matter if he’s got money?”

“It shouldn’t, not if you love him,” Tommy told you. “Do you?”

It felt as if you were eight years old again, confronting Tommy about why he was walking with you in the first place. He looked at you with such yearning, such longing. It was as if he was begging you not to say yes, pleading with you not to have already devoted your heart to this man.

There was only one truth of the matter. Thomas Shelby was the only man that you had ever loved.

“Tommy, I have only ever loved you since I was eight years old,” you whispered.

As if unable to hold back any longer, Tommy embraced you fully and brought you into his arms. He kissed you furiously, without any doubt or question that you were meant for him. He let his hands run up and down your back and pulled you into his body.

Before you gave into your urge to let him rip your sheer nightdress off of you, you pulled away with swollen lips and eyes full of desire. This was not right, not until you spoke to Michael. Regardless of how you felt for Tommy, you could not do this to Michael.

“Not yet,” you whispered. “I gave a man my word, I need to speak to him before I can go any further here.”

Tommy respected your choice, he knew you wouldn’t want disloyalty on your conscience. He just nodded his head and placed a hand on your cheek gently, it was in these moments that he forgot about everything else.

Michael didn’t take the news very well at all, his ego was bruised and he pleaded for you to reconsider. He told you how deeply he loved you and how you had led him on, making him believe that you two would have a life together. He was right, you had encouraged him in all of his dreams of your future and you had done it without ever considering how it may end. It was selfish.

It took you weeks before you agreed to see Tommy again after Michael had left you feeling so guilty. Nights of tireless sleep, you would look up at the sky and pray to god that you were making the right decisions.

Over a year into your training, you would soon be able to do what you’d always dreamt of. Dark times approached, though. There were ghosts of whispers at every street corner, they spoke of war so feverishly. It was as if death was due to knock at the doors of families, stripping women of their husbands and children of their fathers.

The thought of this had left Tommy quite stoic most of the time, he held a monotonous view on the entire matter. Every time you had brought it up to him, he told you how he would be expected to fight on behalf of his country if it came down to it.

And so he did, when it came down to it and Britain had joined the War—The Shelby brothers and hundreds of other men in Small Heath joined as well.

“Tommy,” I sniffled as I watched him from across his bedroom pack a small bag of things. “I need you to promise me that you’ll come home, that you won’t die out there. They’re saying things about trench warfare, it’s all really terrifying—”

Tommy crossed the room and took your face in his hands, kissing you hard on the lips, as if it was the last time he would ever do so. A piece of you wondered if he believed that he would die out there.

“Please come home,” you breathed.

“I will come home,” he kissed you again. “I promise you.”

You planned to hold him to this promise. Having waited ten years for Tommy Shelby, you would wait however long more so long as he would come home to you.

It took two months before his first letter would come after you watched him depart on that large ship. Long months of kneeling at the foot of your bed, begging god not to take Tommy. Everything that was being said about the war was absolutely tragic, soldiers being blown to pieces or rotting below the earth in the trenches.

My Dearest Y/N,

I wish I was able to write to you sooner, I cannot say where I am for the risk of interception. Just know that I have never been in such conditions in my life, I spend my days underground. I have taken the role of a tunneler. Trench warfare has not been good to any of us, I find myself fantasizing of the end of this long hell.

I stare at your picture every night before I shut my eyes, dreaming of what it would be like beside you. There is no greater sorrow to me than your absence from my life at this point in time. I can only hope that it will not be for long.

Not long ago, myself and a group of men were gassed. I watched a fellow soldier go blind for nearly three days before he finally came out of it, only with some permanent damage. There are times when I have thought to myself, ‘Perhaps if I was hit, it would not be so bad. Perhaps even death is better than fighting in this war’.

Then I think of you. I think of the promises I made to you before I left to fight in this god awful war. I cannot understand how men are expected to live like this, nor how we will continue on. I was up to my knees in water last week, the trenches dark and desolate as we waited for the storm to pass. There is so much waiting these days.

I look forward to your letter.

With all of my love,

Tommy Shelby

[roseykat]

KINKTOBER DAY 12

TITLE: Like Throwing Petrol on a Fire

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate every single interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work and page whatsoever.

SUMMARY: Hyunjin can't get either his or your clothes off in time for him to fuck you. Unfortunately, he has to resort to and put up with another method.

TAGS: pre-established relationship, dry humping, swearing, poor Hyunjin can’t help himself (also both reader and Hyunjin are mentioned to be at the club but there is no alcohol involved with this story)

KINK: Dry humping.

KINKTOBER23 - MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @kbitties @luneskies @mal-lunar-28 @kibs-and-bits @aaasia111 @fairy-lixie @dreamingaboutjisung @queenmea604

🩷🩷🩷

-

It was meant to be a good night out for you and Hyunjin, which it was to begin with. You, him, and a group of friends all collectively decided to go clubbing together for the first time in a while. However, later in the night, Hyunjin would find himself in a predicament that he never would've been able to climb his way out of.  

What started off as innocently taking you to the dance floor, turned out to be the worst decision he had ever made. 

Had you not been pressing your ass against his hips for the entirety of the night, Hyunjin wouldn’t be where he is now; sexually frustrated and pissed off because you were teasing him in public. The fact that you knew and felt that he was getting hard, yet continued to grind on him was enough for Hyunjin to take you by the wrist, and pull you with him to the bathroom. 

Sneaky, public, bathroom sex would’ve been ideal for you both at the club – had it not already been full to the brim with other occupants already going at each other. It was either that or go home, and Hyunjin is not one to muck around when he’s horny.

He gets desperate, almost borderline agitated when he’s in the mood because he can’t fuck you.  

Seeing him like that always makes you want to tease him, but you know better. Teasing him means pure punishment for you and Hyunjin has a very creative mind so you always tread carefully around him when he’s in that state. He could deprive you of his body for an entire week or fuck you every day if he wanted. He’s just full of surprises. 

But now and then, Hyunjin becomes so needy that punishments and rewards don’t even cross his mind. That instance just so happened to occur at the club.

Having been so frustrated with not being able to find a decent place to fuck you, the pair of you needed to go home. Alleyways and narrow streets weren’t going to cut it for him, not when there were too many people loitering around. 

So Hyunjin led you back to his car, jumping in and nearly racing off. To make matters worse for him, you decide to test him by palming over his already hard cock. He couldn’t bear the strain he felt against his pants regardless of the small easements of pressure you were giving him as he drove you both back home. 

His head presses back into his chair, trying with every ounce of strength to keep his eyes on the road, “baby, why can’t you wait until we get home?” 

“Because I need you now Jinnie,” you mutter, taking advantage of the state that he’s in. 

Hyunjin does his best to ignore your answer as he turns the last corner onto the street of the house. He eventually slows down and pulls into the driveway to park. As he gets out, he’s thankful that it’s pitch black and everyone in the neighbourhood is asleep, otherwise they would’ve easily seen how hard is. 

“Keys,” you say to him. 

Hyunjin is already on it, barely saying anything as he pulls the house key out of his pocket with a shaky hand and unlocks the front door. The second it’s open, it’s Hyunjin’s game now. 

He pulls you in by the wrist, slamming the door, and backs you right against the entryway table with such force that it dents the wall behind it. There’s no making it to the room, let alone the lounge at this rate.

Hyunjin helps lift you onto the surface of the table, hoisting your legs up just to push and spread them for him to slide in between. Even just feeling the heat in between your thighs is enough to give him some relief, but not the kind that he's craving. 

“I need you…so bad baby,” he groans, pressing his hard, clothed cock into your pussy. 

The friction for you is incredible against your clit, but you do feel for Hyunjin who can’t do much when he’s in formal black slacks. All the while one of Hyunjin’s arms wraps around your lower back so that he can grope the other side of your body while the other hooks around and digs into your thigh.

“Yeah?” You ask, allowing him to continue to fake fuck you while his face is buried in your neck. He can’t even think straight enough to try to take his pants off.

Hyunjin groans, his voice raspy yet hurried, “fuck, I-“

“You know I’m ready for you, so wet for you Jinnie,” you egg him on even further. “Just want you to fuck me.”

His moans are exasperated and breathy, he always sounds beautiful to you when he’s like this, “I can’t – fuck I’m gonna cum…”

You’re not surprised given that you’ve technically been teasing him for the past hour now. So now all you can do is sympathise and let him do what he needs to. 

“It’s okay,” you assure him, breathing just as fast as he is. “Just cum for me.”

Hyunjin’s hips stagger out of their pace, continuing to thrust his dick repeatedly until he has to bite down on your shoulder to suppress the loud moans that are straining out of his throat. Not even a few seconds later, Hyunjin is rocked with an orgasm that has him gripping tightly onto your body, nails digging into you.

The pace of his thrusts slows down after his breathing reaches its peak height. Hyunjin has forgotten what it felt like to not cum inside you for once. It reminds him of the time when you first got together and were scared to take each other's virginities so only dry humping really made the cut. It still feels good, but not as nearly as glorious as busting a warm load inside of you.

"Fuck," Hyunjin sighs.

"Feel better?" You ask, carding your hand through the back of his black hair.

He looks down in between your legs, seeing the hairline-like, sticky strings of cum that connect from his clothed dick to your damp underwear. Hyunjin can barely tell if it's from him, or if that's just because you're wet. Maybe it's both. Either way, he finds it hot.

"You drive me crazy you know that?" Hyunjin says to you, leaning back in to snuggle his face into your neck once more. “Now I have to get hard again to fuck you.”

[callsign-dexter]

Saving Grace 18+

Major Trigger Warning: Domestic and Child Abuse

Request: Ok, I blame your blog for my growing desire on Kelly Severide 😭😭😭 and your smut was soo goood! I'm in Love with your writing !

Sooooo I kindly want to ask you for a little bday (it's Sunday but it's fine if you don't have time) present with angsty Kelly, cause I'm sure we'll love some fluff too 🤗🙊 maybe a little something where they are a couple and she's a paramedic and he's always cute around her and wants her to be save on every call. But one time they're all get called to a gang fight and as she's treating a victim she gets attacked with a knife which nearly kills her and Kelly's world stops when she's in his arms full of blood and barely hanging on. He never leaves her side when she's taken to Med and even there he's by her side begging her to come back to him. Just cute and fluffy Kelly cause daaaaaamn he's so great 🥹 oh and ofc it's a Happy Ending with them 🤗❤️

Pairings: Kelly Severide x Fiancée!Paramedic!Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, hospitals, stabbing, knife, blood, inaccurate medical talk, smut

Masterlist

A/N: Happy belated birthday to the anon that sent this in!

A/N 2: Yes even though this is fluff with angst there is smut so @imagine-all-the-fandoms and @talesofreading please prepare yourselves!

You had known Kelly Severide ever since you were both kids, considering you were next door neighbors. You didn't have the best childhood and needed a friend and you found that in Kelly. You two had grown up and had been there for each other through thick and thin. Through bad breakups with shitty boyfriends and girlfriends. You shut down all the rumors going around about Kelly even though you probably knew they were true especially with him being a womanizer, but you had to defend your friend and crush. 

——————————————————————

Middle school hit and your friendship was stronger than ever and you two had stayed thick as thieves no matter how popular he had become. When his girlfriend, and also the captain of the soccer team, tried to get him to stop hanging around you because she didn't like you, he immediately broke up with her. One particular night they yelling and the fighting got so bad at your house that it became physical and your father had hit you and then threw a plate against the wall, breaking it and some of it cut you. Your mother tried to stop it but your father turned on her and she looked at you with a particular look and you ran, you ran to Kelly. When he saw you and the shape you were in, he grew furious but he took you up to your room and cleaned you up and held you that night.  

——————————————————————

When high school came around your friendship and crush were still going strong. It became normal around the school to see each other with each other, so normal that his friends started becoming your friends and vice versa. Around sophomore year a particularly bad night occurred over at the Y/L/N Household. Your mother had just passed away due to some complications from the abuse your father had laid on her, the next day your father started to drink heavily starting in the morning and didn't end at all. You had just come home from school to find your father sitting at the kitchen table drinking. “About time you came home.” He said with a bite in his tone.

“I was at school.” You said slightly trembling. Your father looked up at you in rage.

“From now on you're not going to school. You're staying here.” He said not really in the right mental state.

“Dad, I can't do that. I need to go to school.” You said you wanted Kelly.

“Not anymore. Now make dinner.” He said harshly. 

“No, Dad. I have homework to do and I promised Kelly I would meet up with him to help him.” You said and the anger flashed through your father’s face.

“You're always with him. Kelly this, Kelly that. I bet you've probably fucked him you slut.” He said and that brought tears to your eyes. 

“No, I haven't.” You said “I'm not with him.” You added and your dad scoffed. 

“Whatever. Now, get to cleaning this place is dirty and cooking. I'm hungry.” He spoke 

“No, I need to do homework and then meet Kelly. I've told you this.” You said something must've snapped in him because he was suddenly picking up his glass and throwing it at you. It grazed you and hit the wall exploding in a million pieces and most of those cut you and you ducked for cover. Your dad stalked over to you and grabbed you by the hair and slammed you up against the wall he was yelling and threatening you. Tears were coming out fast. 

“Stop you're crying.” He said and punched you in the face and you cradled your face and that just made him grow angrier. He slammed your head into the wall and then threw you down onto the ground. He kicked you twice in the ribs, breaking some, and several in the stomach. There were plates on a shelf next to you and he reached over and pulled that down over you, they broke all over you and cut you. You were sure you were bloody and not a very good sight to look at. You were close to passing out and you just wanted Kelly. 

“Kelly.” You mumbled and your dad rolled his eyes.

“There you go saying his name. He can't save you now.” Your dad said and then brought his boot cover foot and it connected it with your head and that brought stars to your vision. Kelly, you wanted Kelly and now. Your dad finally stopped his attack on you and then stormed away, grabbed his keys and left considering you heard his truck start up. He left the door standing wide open.

Kelly had just gotten home from his baseball practice when he noticed your car in the driveway but not your dad's. He also noticed the door left wide open and that made his stomach drop. He quickly pulled into your driveway and got out and rushed in and the scene before his eyes made his blood boil. You were laid there in a pool of your own blood and semi-conscious. “Son of a bitch.” He said to himself he made it very clear that he didn't like your dad early on. “Hey, Angel. Wake up for me. Please.” Kelly said while stroking your cheek but nothing had worked. “You’re really scaring me.” He said. You heard a voice and it sounded like Kelly’s.

“Kel?” You asked, slurring your words and eyes cracking open. You saw him crouching down in front of you.

“Yea, it's me.” He said 

“Dad-” You began but he shushed you.

“I know, Angel. I know.” He said smiling sadly and then pulled out his phone. “I’m gonna call 911. Just hang tight.” He said and you just stared at him everything sounded underwater. You could hear him talking but couldn’t pay attention. Your eyes started to close “Hey, hey, hey. Keep those eyes open for me.” He said but they were already shutting “Y/N-” he said and the last thing you heard before you let the darkness win.

The next thing you remember was waking up in the hospital with Kelly asleep by your side. You hurt all over and you vowed to yourself that you would become a paramedic to help people in need. You tried sitting up and groaned and that is what woke him up. “Woah. Hey. It’s ok, Angel.” He said and got up helped you lay back down.

“Dad?” You asked and he smiled sadly.

“He was found with his truck wrapped around a tree, he survived and when he gets healthy enough, he is going to prison.” He said and you nodded and then your eyes were closing. “Go to sleep, Angel. I’ll be right here.” He said and you let your eyes slip closed. 

“I love you, Kel. More than a friend.” You said and he smiled.

“I love you too. More than a friend.” He repeated and you smiled and then fell asleep. When you woke up again, he brought up what you said and told him it was true and he smiled and told you that he felt the same way. From that day you two started to date. 

——————————————————————

When you both graduated high school you decided to follow Kelly everywhere and owed him your life because he saved your life. You ended up going with him to the fire academy and excelling through it and had graduated as a paramedic and him as a firefighter. After graduation he had proposed to you and it was an immediate yes. 

Considering that you both had gotten engaged you both followed each other through the different firehouses and both ended up at Firehouse 51. When you got the position for a paramedic on Ambulance 61, he got his position on Rescue Squad 3 and you both were so happy. It was exciting and both were so happy.

Kelly and you had talked about kids and decided not to wait until you both were married and when it happened then it happened. You loved the thought of getting married but were happy to be engaged with the love of your life. Getting with you and getting engaged changed Kelly for the good, he stopped being a womanizer and he devoted himself to you and only you. 

——————————————————————

You both had been sleeping soundly in your own bed at your house after being off for 3 days and having a lot of fun in the bedroom trying but not really trying for a child. Your alarm had gone off at 6:30 AM and you jolted awake. When you turned over and saw the time you groaned and shut the alarm off. “Is it time already?” Kelly asked with a gravely and sleep ridden voice and you smiled and rolled over looking at him. You didn’t have to go in until 8:00 AM.

“Sadly yes.” You said and kissed him and he returned the kiss. “But hey, we'll be with each other for the next 2 days.” You said and he smiled.

“That we will, Angel.” Kelly said and kissed you rolling over to where he was pinning you underneath him. The kissing got more intense and you were planning on letting it go further but you needed to get to work before Boden had both of your heads.

“As much as I want to continue this. We really need to get to work.” You said and he bowed his head and sighed in defeat. He knew you right. 

“You’re always right.” He said and you smiled and kissed him again but he continued his attack on you. 

“Kel.” You warned but he just continued his attack on your neck and then he was inching his way down your body until he got to the hem of his shirt that you stole from him. “Baby.” You moaned out and he smirked and went lower to your underwear cover pussy. He pushed your legs open and began kissing the inside of your thighs as he slid your underwear down your legs and threw them somewhere. Then he dove straight in and your head was thrown back “Kelly!” You shouted but turned into a moan. Your hands went to his head he licked a broad stripe up your folds as his hands kept your thighs spread. He swirled his tongue around your entrance and then bit your clit gently and that had you letting out a pornographic moan. Your back arched pleasure and that rubber band feeling was creeping up a tall tale sign you were about to cum. “I’m gonna cum.” You warned and he quickened his pace and when he sucked on your clit and gently bit it again for the second time had you coming undone. “I'm cumming!” You moaned out and that rubber band snapped and you saw stars. You came all over his face and he was licking it up like it was his last meal. When you came down from your high, he was sitting up and lying next to you. You laid there for a few minutes catching your breath “That was amazing.” You said and he smiled and leaned over and kissed you, you could taste yourself on his tongue.

“Have to take care of my girl.” He said after he broke the kiss and you smiled.

“Now we have to get ready.” You said and got up. He laid there watching you. Once you had disappeared into the bathroom, he and when he heard the shower running, he got up and smirked. He stripped off his sweats and underwear leaving him nude. He walked into the bathroom and when you heard the shower door open you smiled.

“Just couldn’t stand it could you?” You asked and he smirked.

“How can? Especially knowing my sexy fiancée is in here all alone and may need some assistance.” He said and you laughed as he started to finish what you had started and then it was your turn to help him. As you were soaping him up and rinsing him off you got down to his very erect and noticeable hard on, you smirked.

“Want me to help you with that?” You asked and he smirked.

“I would never say no to you.” He said and you smiled and he helped you ease your way down once he knew what you were doing. All soap was gone and both of you were clean but you always did enjoy standing there under the hot water. Your hand traveled down to his cock and pumped it while you kissed the tip and kitten licked it and that had him moaning. “Oh, Angel. That feels so good.” He said and you smirked and took the tip into your mouth and swirled it with your tongue and then you started moving your head up and down. Kelly’s head was thrown back in pleasure. One hand went to your head and the other braced himself on the shower wall. “Angel.” He moaned out. You kept changing your speed and then you hollowed your cheeks and took him deeper until he hit the back of your throat. You breathed through your nose “I’m close, Y/N/N.” He said and you knew it was true especially when your other hand that wasn’t on his cock went to his balls you felt them tightening up. What did him in was when you squeezed his cock and his balls at the same time “I’m cumming, Angel.” He moaned out and then his thick load shot into the back of your throat and you swallowed it all. When he was done you slowly drug your mouth off his cock and released him with a pop. He helped you stand up and kissed you tasting himself. You smiled at him “Thank you, Angel.” He said and tucked a piece of wet hair behind your ear.

“Anytime babe.” You said and then you both were getting out and getting ready. Once everything was ready to go you looked at your phone 7:20 AM it read and your eyes bugged out of your head. 

“What is it, Angel?” He asked when he noticed your expression.

“We’re gonna be late.” You said and he smirked. 

“Then let me drive.” He said and you groaned but agreed. You both walked out to his Jeep and he booked it to the firehouse. 7:50 AM, you had cut it close but now you felt nauseous.

“Never letting you drive again.” You said as you grabbed your bag.

“Oh, come on. I got us here on time.” He said and you just shook your head and the both of you headed in. Both of you put your bags in the locker room and went to hear the reports and once that was over your 2-day shift started. 

6 hours into your shift nothing really exciting happened, just a few small calls that didn’t require everyone to go out. You were grateful for the silent morning and not much happening because that meant you could spend time with Kelly and plan your wedding with your bridesmaids, Sylvie Brett and Grabriela Dawson and maid of honor, Stella Kidd. “So, have you picked a color yet?” Sylvie asked.

“I have 2 picked out navy blue and sage green.” You said and she nodded.

“Oh, navy blue would look so pretty.” Stella said and you smiled as you flipped through some magazines. You were mid flip when Kelly walked into the room you looked up when you saw him coming over and kissed you.

“How is my beautiful fiancée doing?” He asked and you smiled and you could hear the girls aweing at you both and you rolled your eyes at them.

“Oh hush. I’m doing well. A little bit achy from the rambunctious patient we had last call.” You said and he gave you a look “Kel, I’m fine nothing major happened and we handled it.” You said and he eased up.

“You know I want you to be safe on every call.” He said and you nodded and watched him walk over to the fridge and grab two bottles of water and something to snack on and brought it to you. You gladly accepted them.

“You two are so adorable.” Gabby said and you chuckled and made room for Kelly to sit down and then you leaned into him and started flipping through the magazine again as he fed you some of his snack. “So, you have a cake picked out?” She asked and you nodded.

“We do. It’s a chocolate strawberry cake.” Kelly said “It’s her favorite and I want her to be happy on her special day.” He said and kissed your temple. You smiled and played with your engagement ring.

“Hey it’s your day too.” You argued and looked at him.

“Yes, but to me it’s going to be all about you and celebrating you being with me.” He said and again the girls awed at the both of you and again you rolled your eyes but smiled. The wedding talk continues and Kelly put his input in. When the urge to go to the bathroom was needed you got up and he whined. “Where are you going?” He asked pouting and you turned to him.

“I have to go to the bathroom, Babe. Unless you want to join.” You said as a joke and he started to get up but you stopped him “I was joking. I’ll be back soon.” You said and he pouted again.

“Fine. I’ll miss you.” He said and you laughed.

“I’ll be right back.” You said and the girls all laughed. You went to the bathroom and as you were washing your hands the bells rang signaling for Rescue Squad 3, Truck 81, Ambulance 61, and Engine 51. It must be serious if they were sending everyone out. You quickly rushed the ambulance and he stopped you before you got in and he kissed you hard and you returned the kiss. “I love you.” You said as you hopped into the vehicle.

“I love you too.” He said and then you both got in your vehicles and then you were off to the call. The call was made by a bystander that had witnessed a gang fight had taken place and there were some casualties but also some that needed medical attention as well as a fire that had broken out due to a bullet hitting a gas tank of a car. Intelligence was also called since it was their case they were working on. You were quick to jump out when the ambulance had stopped. Boden gave orders and everyone got to work. You, Sylvie, and Gabby along with Herrmann, Otis, Kelly, Brian and Peter moved people that needed serious attention to one place and the ones that didn't move to another then the deceased to another with sheets laying over them. Intelligence and other police officers were booking left and right. You had just finished with one patient when Jay grabbed your attention. 

“Hey, Y/N! I need you over here!” He said and you rushed over with your bag. When you got there a man in his mid-20s was lying unconscious on the ground but breathing. You knelt down next to him and Jay. Jay was waiting to do anything to help.

“Sir, can you hear me?” You asked while taking a listen to him and everything sounded normal. You still hadn't gotten a response so you made your hand into a fist and rubbed his sternum. That definitely got a reaction out of him because before Jay could stop him, he had grabbed a knife that was in his back pocket and drove it first into your stomach. At first you didn't feel it and Jay was just shocked. You Felt it when the knife pulled out and found its way into your ribs. Jay took action and was quick to apprehend the person and cuff him. He called for someone to get the person off the ground and once they were gone Jay turned his direction to you. 

“Hey it's ok. You're going to be ok.” Jay said as he started putting pressure on your wounds.

“Kelly. Want Kelly.” You mumbled out and Jay nodded and looked up looking for your fiancé and when he found him, he shouted his name.

“Kelly!” Jay shouted and that caused Kelly to look up and his face drained of color when he saw you on the ground with blood and Jay trying to help. He was rushing over to get to you. 

“What the hell happened?” Kelly asked when he arrived and took over for Jay but Jay stayed close wanting to help his friends. 

“I found a guy on the ground unconscious and called her over since she was available. She was checking on him and trying to wake him up and he woke up startled and took out a knife we both didn't see and stabbed her before I could do anything. He was quick and got a second stab in.” Jay said and Kelly nodded, not mad at anyone this could happen to anyone. He knew moving someone without knowing their injuries could end up making it worse for them. 

“Kel?” You asked and he looked down and saw you staring at him with wild unfocused eyes. You looked so scared.

“I'm here, Angel. I'm here.” He said and pressed harder on your wounds. Blood was starting to seep out between his fingers. “Jay, go and get Sylvie and Gabby. Tell them it's Y/N. Tell them to bring the gurney and hurry.” He said and Jay nodded and went to find them.

“I'm sorry.” You said and Kelly looked at you confused.

“Why are you sorry?” He asked

“I didn't see the knife.” You said and he shook his head.

“Nobody could've seen it. You and Jay did the right thing in not moving him.” He said and you nodded and then you started coughing which brought blood and it was getting harder to breathe. “Hey hey, don't you give up on me yet.” He said and grabbed your gloved hand and he could feel your ring through it. He decided he needed to be skin to skin with you so he ripped the gloves off and your diamond ring was out on display for everyone to see.  “We have so many plans, Angel. Don't leave me.” He added you so desperately tried to keep your eyes open and you were winning the fight but barely. 

“Oh my god.” Sylvie gasped and both her and Gabby got to work. The commotion caught the attention of a few others and they were quick to come over. “Hey, Y/N/N. Can you hear me?” Sylvie asked and you nodded your head and looked over at her.

“Kel?” You asked, losing a lot of blood.

“I'm right here, Y/N. I'm right here.” He said and your head lolled over to look at him. Then your eyes closed and your breathing stopped. “Y/N! No no no no.” Kelly said and removed his hands and started chest compression and that kicked everyone into gear. Gabby put a pulse ox on you and connected leads to you and it showed a flatline and tears came to Kelly's, well everyone's, eyes. “Come on. Come on.” He said and continued CPR. About 2 minutes later your heart started beating again and he sighed in relief. Gabby started an IV and Kelly’s hands went to the puncture wounds again.

Everyone started talking and then you felt yourself being lifted up and onto the gurney by several people. You were moving and it felt like you were floating. Nothing was in focus and every sound was underwater. You were loaded into the back of the ambulance and then you were speeding away. Kelly never once left your side and nobody argued with him.

Getting to Med felt like forever but it was only a short 3 minutes but in those 3 minutes Kelly's world stopped again. Your heart was beating strong and then all of a sudden it just stopped. Gabby was quick to start CPR again. “If we don't get her back soon, her chances to survive are low.” She said and just as soon as the ambulance pulled up to Med your heart started again. When the doors opened there was Connor and a few nurses standing there and as soon as the gurney was off the ambulance you were being wheeled away. Talking was heard but you couldn't focus on it. Your eyes were closed. 

“Kelly, you know you can't go back with us.” Connor said

“I know. Just take care of her. Angel, I'll be here when you're done. Keep fighting.” Kelly said, bending down and kissing your forehead and then your ring. “I love you.” Kelly added as tears ran down his face and you were wheeled behind the door. Kelly just stood there not knowing what to do until Otis came behind him and grabbed his shoulders and led him to the waiting room. Before they wheeled you behind the doors, they had taken your engagement ring off and gave it to him. He looked up and saw most of everyone there but nobody said a word. He looked down at your engagement ring and just started to let tears escape. He needed you.

——————————————————————

“Alright I want a quick x-ray and an ultrasound then I want her prepped and quickly.” Conner said and everybody let him know that they understood and then they were on it. An x-ray was taken and the tech froze.

“Uh, Conner. I might want to come and take a look at this.” He said and Connor rushed over.

“She’s pregnant.” He confirmed “Someone call Dr. Manning. Tell her it is an emergency.” He said 

“On it!” A nurse said and was quick to get her on the phone. In no time Natalie was rushing into the OR, she was getting the ultrasound up and running and was quick to get it on you.

“It looks like she is 9 weeks pregnant and it looks like the knife didn’t even touch the placenta but it looks like it caught her kidney.” She said “I’ll stay and monitor the baby.” She said and Connor nodded and started giving directions out. The surgery was stressful but it was coming along great. “The baby's heart rate and breathing are great.” Natalie said just about the time your heart rate was beginning to drop.

“Heart is dropping and her breathing is labored.” The surgical nurse said and that concerned both of the doctors. Then your heart monitor flatlined. 

“Starting CPR!” Connor said and he started the chest compressions. “Come on, Y/N/N. You got a fiancé that is worried sick about you and a baby to grow and raise” he said and you must be listening because after about 3 minutes of CPR your heart started to beat again. “Ok, she’s back! Let’s hurry this and get her into recovery.” He said calmly and they finished quickly. They had to fix your lung and remove one of your kidneys but you were going to survive.

——————————————————————

4 hours is how long everyone had to wait. Your team members, who were your family, weren’t going to go anywhere especially not when one of their own was fighting for her life. Kelly was a nervous wreck and he hadn’t even said a word since he arrived, nobody was going to push him to talk. Boden had declared him off since it was his fiancée in there and that considered him family. Nobody had come out and whenever someone had come out it wasn’t Connor and his heart sank a little more each time. The plans that you two had made and planned on making were running through his head. He thought about starting a family with you and the wedding you two were going to have. As he was thinking about it all, he remembered your diamond ring in his hand, it shouldn’t be in his hand, it should be on your finger. He took one last look at it and then took his chain off around his neck and unclasped it and slid on it, he then put the chain back around his neck.

Finally, Connor came out and he stood there for a minute until he saw Kelly and the crew. He walked over to them and when Kelly heard footsteps he looked up and quickly stood up. “Connor?” Kelly asked Connor, looked at him and smiled.

“They’re both going to be just fine.” He said and Kelly looked at him shocked.

“Both?” Kelly questioned 

“Yes, Y/N is 9 weeks pregnant. I take it neither of you knew.” He said, reading the expression on Kelly’s face.

“No. We’ve been trying but not really trying.” He said and Connor smiled. “How is Y/N?” He asked

“We lost her once but got her back quickly. The knife got her kidney so we had to remove that and we fixed her lung. I’m suggesting a few weeks to a month off from work but she can do very light duty.” Connor said and everyone nodded, mostly Boden. “I can take you to her now.” He said.

“Please.” Kelly said and Connor smiled and nodded. He led Kelly the way and while he was walking past his crew, they gave him a chorus of ‘Congratulations’. They weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Kelly and Connor arrived at your room and he walked in and sat down on the chair. “If something happens, please grab one of the nurses and they’ll either page me or Natalie or both of us will be here.” He said and Kelly nodded “Oh and Kelly?” He added and Kelly looked up at him. “Congratulations.” He said and Kelly smiled and Connor was off. He was left there sitting with you and letting tears fall.

“You scared me, Angel. When I saw you lying there with Jay putting pressure on your wounds, my world stopped. Then when you stopped breathing and your heart stopped twice on the way here, it scared the shit out of me. We’re going to be parents, Angel. I don’t know if you can hear me but you, I’m so glad you chose to stay with me. I would be so lost without you. I love you so much.” He said and kissed your forehead. 

Nurses were in and out checking on you and the baby and the crew came and saw you but couldn’t stay long and Kelly understood and he knew you would understand too. Kelly wasn’t going to leave your side for nothing and nobody was going to make him and Boden understood. He wanted to put your ring back on but refrained against it because he didn’t want them taking it off again.

2 days had passed and you still hadn’t woken up but that was to be understood it helped your body heal. They kept IVs running to keep you and the baby hydrated and it had some nutrients in it to keep you both nourished from the lack of food being eaten. It was during the night when you woke up and you looked around the room taking in the noise and where you were at. Then you looked over to your right and saw Kelly sleeping. You reached a hand over and stroked his cheek which woke him up and then when he saw you were awake, he was up with a start. About that time Connor and Natalie had come and smiled. “Nice to see you awake.” Connor said and you smiled and then grimaced in pain when you tried to move. 

“Take it easy. You just had some major surgery. We also don’t want to stress the baby out.” Natalie said and you pulled a confused face.

“Baby?” You asked voice scratchy and Kelly was quick to grab the cup of water and bring the straw to your lips and you drank some and pushed it away.

“Yes, we did an x-ray to see where the knife had hit and when the baby popped up, I was called in and I did an ultrasound to confirm that you are 9 weeks pregnant. I take it you didn’t know.” Natalie said and you shook your head but smiled “Congratulations.” She said with a small smile and you smiled back.

“Thank you. We were trying for a kid but haven’t been trying very hard.” You said and she smiled.

“The knife punctured your kidney and your lung. We removed your kidney and repaired your lung. I want you to take it very easy for a few weeks and if you go back to work then it’s going to have to be very light duty.” Connor said and you nodded. He and Natalie went over a few things with you and then left. They wanted you to stay in the hospital for at least a week to make sure everything was ok and no complications and you agreed along with Kelly. 

“We’re going to be parents.” You said and he smiled and nodded then you looked down at your bare hand “Where is my ring?” You asked almost panicked and he smiled and pulled it out on his chain.

“Right here baby.” He said and pulled it off and took it off and put it back on your hand where it belonged. You let out a yawn and he chuckled. “Go back to sleep baby. I’ll be here when you wake up.” He said and leaned up and kissed your forehead again. 

As you fell back asleep you smiled and thought about your baby. The two of you were going to be parents and you couldn’t wait. All you could think about is how good of a father Kelly was going to make and you couldn’t wait. You couldn’t wait to marry him and raise his kid with him. The three of you were going to be one happy family and that was something worth staying for.

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[orshii]

☣︎Whispers of The Darkened Mist☣︎

☣︎ Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x female reader ☣︎ Word count: 8,8 k ☣︎ Warnings ☣︎ - cursing, mentions of death, injury, mentions of blood, suggestive

☣︎ Summary: The world is shrouded in a dark, venomous mist that makes survival nearly impossible. Alone and hunted by other desperate survivors, you were on the brink of giving up. But then, Kim Hongjoong's fearsome crew found you. Though Hongjoong seemed intimidating and distant at first, he secretly cared for you, even if he didn’t show it. Now, in a world where betrayal could mean the difference between life and death, will you be able to trust each other enough to survive?

Or will hidden tensions tear you apart before the world does?

☣︎ A/N: I would've never thought I was going to write something like this lol. This is really the first time for me. This is totally new territory for me and I tried my best istg, idk it just happened. Actually, it started because I dreamt about this world and I woke up saying I have to write something with this. I don't know if it even makes sense but I hope you enjoy it as much as I did while writing and I hope it's not so confusing, lmk. Also sorry for the mistakes I am really trying. I might return to this world with the other members *wink wink* (divider)

The world went quiet. Darkness embraced the streets and buildings, creating a bubble around the earth that whispered danger. The streets were empty along with the fields that were supposed to be full of wildflowers. But everything was black, it looked like hungry flames consumed the planet, leaving behind nothing but emptiness. The planet became more and more harder to survive for humans, they needed to adapt to the odd situation that came with not being able to breathe fresh air for too long.

The air was tainted with alchemical toxins, giving humans only a few minutes to find shelter where the air was filtered and cleaner than the toxic atmosphere outside.

It was tough, people's freedom was taken away the day when simultaneous terrorist attacks occurred worldwide. That we call the Black Day since. They filled the air with nuclear gas that came in the form of black smoke, which blinded the people immediately, because of how dense the smoke looked. Being too much in the smoke makes people feel dizzy, like they are a little drunk, feeling intoxicated from the venomous air spreading in their lungs like rivers all around a map. If the ones that were in the smoke for more than five minutes without a mask, their days ended for good. Specialized masks prevent the gas from getting into your lungs, but those are hard to get, and if you are not that lucky to somehow provide one for yourself, you are doomed. It's breaking into a lab that has a lot of these types of masks—but these are rare to find—or it's killing someone that has the mask.

This is the game of survivor. But this time it's not just a game.

It's already five years, five years of the world being in infinite darkness, the sun was already a forgotten phenomenon. More than half of the population was gone. No one could expect something like this. People who were still here were the strongest kind, it's not easy to survive five years in a world that was doomed for eternity. The world changed completely, it wasn't the type of survival where people needed to work to get money and to buy everyday necessities. It was the type of survival when people needed to fight for the things they needed, to search every inch of the cities that were ruined into specks of dust so they could find some supplies that they needed to survive.

If you were alone, you had no chance. People usually gathered together, because it was easier to survive along with others than being alone in the big and dark world that held only surprises for you. Being alone in the wild is like you are prey that has nowhere to run. People hunt for the lost ones because they have nothing better to do.

I had luck. A crew of random people found me on the top of a building unconscious, where I ran up to find shelter away from the smoke that was spreading through the air. In the beginning, there were places where the smoke still did not reach, it was spreading slowly, and after trying to survive for five months alone, being tired of the constant running away from the toxic air, that haunted me even in my nightmares. I stopped. I was on the verge of giving up. I was ready to let the fog consume me, to eat my soul and take me to a better place.

I was almost there, I could see the sun above me, which was beaming at me, embracing me in a tight and warm hug. I felt like finally I could rest and leave this world behind in peace.

But there was nothing like the sun above me and the warmth I felt was hands around me that pulled me up from the dirty ground on the top of a building that was so high, I could feel the warm beam of the sun.

That was the last time I felt the warmth of the sun. Since then, I had already forgotten how it felt and how the sky looked like when the sun was rising or setting down. The people who came to that exact building when I wanted to give up, slowly became my family. Felt like it was destiny. It needed to happen. It was a sign from life, that whispered I should fight until my last breath. And from that day, I decided I was not going to give up.

Kim Hongjoong was the leader of the crew. They saved me that day, Hongjoong lifted me into his arms and they took me to their base so I could survive. His sharp eyes were staring into mine when I was in a haze, trying to perceive what was happening. While I was recovering, I constantly saw his face in my dreams.

Surviving wasn't in my plan, those five months were torture, the worst days of my life, I had no food, and I needed to kill a little squirrel someday to get some strength from its meat. I needed to do a lot of things I could've never imagined I was capable of doing. The worst was when I needed to kill a woman, that had the mask I desperately needed.

This was life. To survive you need to do everything, and when our survivor instincts turn on, we can't turn them off. We become unstoppable and we lose our humanity. It drives us crazy until we can't think clearly. That was when I thought it was better if I gave up. But when they found me and did not let me die there, I realized, it wasn't my choice to die, if destiny wanted me to survive, then I was going to fight until my last breath. I owed my life to these people and one day I might get the opportunity to pay them back.

In theory, it was Kim Hongjoong who brought me to their base; it was his decision. But as the others later told me, he intended to leave me there to die. He argued that I wasn't their problem and wanted to abandon me. However, the others insisted on checking if I was still alive. Hongjoong was prepared to leave me behind, but the others refused, so he had no choice but to take me with them.

And since that day they became my family. Even though Hongjoong hated me for some reason, probably because he did not want someone new in their crew back then—especially a girl—he did some things that made me believe he did not hate me. For example, when they found me, he was the one who took me to their base in his arms—because he did not let anyone else do it.

Or times when it was my turn to explore an unknown sector of the city, Hongjoong never let me go alone. He always sent Wooyoung with me because of his exceptional archery skills—his arrows never missed their mark. Wooyoung was there to protect me if anything went wrong, and Hongjoong made sure I was safe at all times, even though he pretended not to care about me. At first, Hongjoong seemed unapproachable, with his strong charisma and the aura of a true leader. He was the reason everyone survived, always involving us in his plans and valuing our opinions. He was prepared for every possible outcome.

There were times when some strangers attacked our base because we had just been to collect the supplies along with some important masks we needed for survival. People knew about us; we were a strong unbreakable team and it was hard to break through.

And when they attacked us, it was a usual night. We were sleeping.

They managed to kill one of us. I am never going to forget that horrible day. It was a girl, who we saved just two weeks ago. I saw myself in her, he was as broken as me when they first found me on the top of that building. But when we found the girl, her eyes were shining and it was full of hope and with want of surviving, not like mine back then.

After the night they attacked us, we started to be more careful and did not trust anyone. People are here to survive; it was not a game where we could make allies with anyone. If you want to survive, you just destroy everything that comes your way. And that is why our world looks like it was destroyed by an army that looked never-ending, just to leave ashes behind.

 Hongjoong always sent me out with Wooyoung, he was good at covering someone and letting you know if there were any dangers around you. Wooyoung's charisma was captivating and he radiated happiness in this sad empire. Wooyoung's nickname was The Hawk because he had eyes like a hawk. Sometimes when I wanted to tease him, I called him pigeon and he always pouted with his rosy lips with folded arms saying he is not a pigeon.

Wooyoung became my best friend since the first day Hongjoong sent us on a mission together. He taught me a lot of survival tactics and he even showed me how to use the bow. He was the closest to me, he was like my brother who I had not seen way before the Black Day, just like my family, and it hurt, it was like losing a piece of me, that belonged to my family. It is the worst when you don't know if they survived or not if they are in a better place or outside the cruel world trying to survive. I did not know which one was better.

We were in our bunker that was deep in the ground. This was the base of ours, where we could breathe, well—fresher air here than outside. It was built of concrete, the walls were huge and cold, and some pillars kept the weight of the building deep in the heart of the ground.

The huge hall where we were sitting, echoed the voice of Kim Hongjoong, our leader. He was standing in the middle of the room, us surrounding him. He was wearing his usual black fur coat, his black hair cut short, and his undercut as sharp as his jawline as I watched his side profile while he was speaking. With a lot of jewelry hanging from his ear, he looked intimidating and I would have given up instantly if I had run into him randomly on the empty streets. He was an interesting man. I have known him since they saved me, but he surprises me with every passing day. He was protective over his people; he would do anything for the ones who stood by him and followed him along this dark and bumpy road we were on.

I always respected him; five years is long. Our relationship was like a roller-coaster through the years. We had some times when we hated each other, and he made my stay a lot more difficult, as he always made me feel like I did not belong there. Like it was a mistake saving me. But also, there were times when he acted weird. This overprotectiveness of his came out a lot recently. And I did not know what to do with him. I couldn't yet figure him out. He was like a deep ocean full of secrets, some beasts lurking around in the dark. Kim Hongjoong was a monster and it was hard to quell him down. Especially if you betrayed him.

Like that one time, one year ago, when those people broke into our base and killed that innocent girl. It turned out there was a traitor between us. Someone betrayed us by allying with the enemy and revealing the location of our base—or so they thought. When we managed to eliminate them all, their leader, the last one standing, warned us to find Judas among us, then took his own life.

I have never seen Hongjoong like this. The veins on his forehead were visible, as he was shouting at us to tell him who betrayed us and whose fault was the girl's death. He was wearing his usual leather vest as he downed a glass of whiskey that flew down both sides of his neck, making him look like he was psychotic. His hands were still bloody from the fighting just like his face with some red stitches on it. He was furious, he trusted these people he called his family, but someone betrayed him and he went mad. Seonghwa, his best friend and our medic, tried to calm him down, but Hongjoong just pushed him away shouting at him to leave him alone. His best friend looked at him wide-eyed not recognizing the best friend he respected so much.

Seonghwa was already part of the crew when they took me in. He once saved Hongjoong's life, and ever since, Hongjoong promised to protect him if Seonghwa used his medical skills to help their people. Seonghwa was a calm and composed guy, never showing anger or sadness. He took his work very seriously and saved many of us over the years. Though he seemed cold, his charisma was rooted in deep care—his sole purpose was to save lives.

Then Hongjoong faced me. And I froze. It was like he was pointing a gun at me and I was just a little lost bunny in the depths of the forest.

"You," He pointed at me, his eyes shooting daggers right into my eyes, making them invisibly bleed. He slowly walked towards me. "You did this, didn't you?" He looked like a predator, and my heart started to beat fast afraid of getting caught. When he was standing in front of me, I avoided his gaze. If I had looked into his eyes, I might have started to cry, because I was terrified. Then I had no choice but to look into his eyes, because something sharp lifted my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes. It was his knife with a wooden handle.

I was just staring back at his eyes, and when I did not say anything, he pushed me into the room behind me with a force suddenly I saw black dots in my vision. And it wasn't better when he pushed me against the cold concrete wall, his veiny hands around my neck. The air was knocked out of my lungs and I tried to scrape his hands off my throat, but there was no point, he was much stronger than me.

"You have one second to explain, then I'm going to kill you with my bare hands." He hissed through his teeth, close to my face, his hands getting tighter around my throat.

I tried to breathe, but it was impossible, there was no way air could go through his hands that were chains around my neck. I tried to speak. "M-mfb" Some noises came out of my mouth but made no sense.

"Try harder, sweetheart." His hands squeezed more and my mouth fell open, his lips almost brushing mine. I looked at him wide-eyed, I was ready to die in between the arms that saved me.

But I didn't want to give him that satisfaction. "M-m my br-brother." The words stumbled out as a whisper, the air long gone from my lungs, his face close to mine was blurry as black dots appeared next to his black figure hovering over me.

Then a sudden wave of air hit me in the face like I was in the ocean and the waves crushed me against the sharp cliff that stubbed my lungs. I fell on the floor, on my knees, supporting myself with my hands, breathing heavily as I coughed blood on the floor. My lungs were full of air, yet I still couldn't breathe, I was on the verge of fainting. But I needed to explain. 

"Th-they told me, they have my brother." I looked at the dusty ground I was kneeling on, as a tear fell from my eyes, the bloody dust getting wet from my teardrops. I looked up at him, I still felt his hands around my throat as he was standing further from me, leaning against a table. "But I did not tell them, where our base was, Hongjoong, please, believe me." My voice cracked as I looked up at him with begging eyes. "They must have followed me when we met at the bridge, I wasn't careful enough, forgive me." I tilted my head down; I couldn't look into his eyes full of disappointment and disgust.

He pushed himself off the table and approached my sobbing figure on the floor. I only saw his shoes in front of me. "I should kill you, sweetheart. How did you even believe them? Did I teach you to believe anything they say to you?" He kneeled, lifting my chin with his fingers.

I shook my head. "But I thought I saw him, that is why I followed them. I don’t even know what I was thinking, he could be dead, but I just hoped it was really him. And when they caught me, they promised they were going to let my brother choose if he wanted to come with me. But they wanted masks in exchange. I would do anything for my brother Hongjoong and you know that so well." I looked at him desperately.

“I know, you would even betray us,” He grabbed my cheeks and lifted my head straight to his face.

“No! I would never, just listen to me, please…” I looked up with tears in my eyes.

"What happened after?" His thumb traced over my cheek to wipe away my desperate tears.

 "Then I told them I wanted to see my brother to make sure it was him—it wasn't him. So, I told them the deal was not valid anymore. They did not want to hear it, so they captured me and did not let me go. But I managed to escape, that was why I was late the other day from my exploring when you were so mad at me for staying out for so long…" I looked down at my hands on my lap, still kneeling on the floor, Hongjoong listening to me carefully, his expression getting softer but still angry. "I'm so sorry Hongjoong, you know I would never betray you and the others. You are my family, I know I made a big mistake, but for a moment I believed it was for real my brother, I was blinded by my feelings." Tears flowed down both my cheeks as I said with a weak voice, my gaze still on my hands.

"I'm glad we killed all of them." He said simply as I snapped my head up. "You should have told me though, you know you can tell me anything, sweetheart." He whispered cupping my cheeks.

"I-I know, but…I felt embarrassed of how naïve I was, they tricked me so easily, I don't want it to happen again." I wanted to be stronger, and the more I was with them, the stronger I became. "And that girl…she died because of me." I buried my face into my hands as I sobbed she was going to hunt me in my nightmares for eternity.

Hongjoong carefully withdrew my hands from my face to look into his eyes. "Sometimes we need sacrifices so we can learn from our mistakes. It happened, now we are moving forward, and you become stronger. Will you promise me?" His hands reached towards my black hair to tuck a string of hair behind my ear, his fingers tracing down on my red neck, his handprint fully visible on my skin, which is going to be red and blue reminding me of the mistake I made. I deserved it because an innocent girl died because of me.

I nodded. "I promise."

"Forgive me." He whispered suddenly. At first, I didn't know why he was apologizing but then his gaze was on my neck that mirrored perfectly the print of his hands around it.

"I deserved it," I whispered as he leaned down to kiss the redness.

"You deserve the world." He whispered in between warm pecks on my neck.

But the world was doomed anyway.  

Since that day, I have become stronger. I did not let people fool me, to lead me towards the wrong way. Hongjoong's words echoed through my mind every time I needed strength, every time I felt like I might give up.

As we watched Hongjoong stand in the middle of the hall echoing his low voice, his black fur coat almost reaching the ground as he was wearing a black leather vest paired with black pants, the flashbacks from that night echoed through my mind as sometimes I still felt his hands around my long-healed neck. I always felt the urge to trace my fingers through my skin to calm myself down a little.

"We need to secure Sector 1 and Sector 2. Yesterday our exploring team said we are being watched again. We might have to move from here if we can't protect this base." Hongjoong turned around to look into every person's eye, who eagerly listened to Hongjoong's commanding words, then his eyes settled on mine and landed on my fingers that were on my neck. He must have noticed as it became a habit of mine and he seemed it bothered him. "Sectors 1 and 2 are around us, we need to set traps and even bombs, to slow the enemy." He averted his gaze quickly away from me as he continued.

 It was funny how people were fighting against each other when it would be much easier to ally with each other and find a solution to this venomous fog that surrounds us all the time, like our nightmares that won't leave us since the Black Day.

"I can go to Sector 2 with Jongho!" San volunteered immediately.

"That sector is big, you are going to need help. I'm coming with you!" I said immediately as I knew that sector just as the back of my hand.

Hongjoong turned in my direction and looked at me sharply. "You are staying here!" He pointed at me.

"I explored that sector before; I can help them." I stepped closer to Hongjoong determined.

"We need you here on the base, Y/N! And this is my command!" His voice came out demanding as he hovered over me.

"Actually," I heard a voice coming from behind. "Y/N could really help us, we haven't been there once with Jongho, it's a new territory."

My eyes bored into Hongjoong's trying to convince him to let me go with them, as his eyes snapped between my eyes from left to right. "I want you to stay by my side, sweetheart." He whispered so the others wouldn't hear what he said his expressions seemed like he was worried.

"It's going to be okay; we did this a lot of times, we go out quickly, doing the usual and I'll come back to you, I promise. They need me out there Hongjoong." I looked up at him sounding confident, but deep down in my heart I was always afraid of going out, anything could go wrong.

He ran his fingers through his raven-black hair frustrated. "Okay, but Yunho is going with you!" He shouted so the others could hear him and they started to move to get ready. I wanted to turn to help the others pack but I felt a hand catching my wrist.

"It's not safe now out there, everyone wants our base and everything we have. Be quick, I need you here. I-I mean we—we need you here." He stuttered at the end as he scratched his nape a little shy. Wait a minute. The scary Kim Hongjoong who almost killed me, was shy?

"Oh, you need me, Kim Hongjoong?" I teased him as I bit my lower lip lifting my eyebrows.

"Shut up and go!" He said as his lips curved up barely visible.

"Now you want me to go or stay? I can't quite figure it out—" I said smiling at him pretending to be confused. I loved to tease him.

Then his hands were suddenly on my waist as he pulled me flash against his body. "I want you to go and come back to me." He whispered onto my parted lips his last word was like an arrow that landed right on my heart, making it bleed with a new feeling I had never felt before.

"Don't worry, you can't get rid of me that easily, Kim Hongjoong," I said close to his lips as I looked deeply into his eyes then pecked his right cheek and turned around leaving a stunned Hongjoong in the middle of the hall.

We started to pack some things we needed, especially weapons. Mingi was in charge of the weapons, he always knew what kind of gun or knife suited you. His charisma was always foolish a little, his eyes always bored into your soul and made you tell him everything. He was a reliable person. Yeosang on the other hand, who was responsible for the food, was a little cold, his charisma seemed nice, but I never had the chance to talk with him. He came with Mingi three years ago and he only opened up to him. Something very traumatic must have happened to them.

We were jumping over pieces of buildings and wrecked cars on the streets, our gas masks on as we were heading towards sector two. While discovering the sector with Yunho, San, and Jongho, we set off some traps so that if someone passes, they are doomed.

When we finished setting the traps we wandered a little out of that sector, and found ourselves in an unknown sector. We wanted to turn back immediately but then Yunho saw a 12-passenger plane. It was white and cute and Yunho wanted to drive it. He was not a pilot, in fact, he had no driver's license. But we somehow trusted in him and we knew it was a very important tool in discovering the city more. We needed it and Yunho was a guy, who was just naturally good at everything. His charisma was like sunshine that can turn into a storm rather quickly.

As he managed to turn it on without any difficulties, we pushed it to a clearing so it could fly, we settled into the seats and buckled in. I was sitting next to Yunho in the pilot seats, he checked the buttons if they were working or not, he was a very sweet guy.

Until some point.

He came with his lover, Hana, they were running away from the smoke when Hongjoong offered shelter for them. There was this one time when someone attacked his lover while we were out to explore the district we were in. As I said people are willing to kill for the masks we were wearing. They just wanted the mask and it happened to be Hana's.

The ones who attacked did not make it. Yunho killed all four of them with his bare hands until they couldn't move anymore. We had no chance to help, it happened in a blink of an eye.

Since that day I knew it wasn't good to play with Yunho's nerves. The girl was his weak point and he did anything to keep her safe.

 Behind me in the passenger seats was San, who was a very buffed man, with wide shoulders and an intimidating charisma, everyone feared him who came his way, but in reality, he was just a cute guy, who loved to call Wooyoung pigeon as well. On the other side of the plane, Jongho, San's brother was sitting. He was also very muscular and carried a hammer as his weapon. Despite his imposing appearance, his charisma was sweeter than intimidating, unlike his brother's. Jongho was a man who did not speak a lot, he was similar to Yeosang, they both just observed from far away, but still coped with us easily.

The Choi brothers were unstoppable. They were the strongest links in the chain we created. Sometimes when the siblings bickered together it reminded me of my relationship with my brother and I felt jealous of them because they were there for each other, they could protect the other, but I just couldn't do it with my brother because I did not know where he was. Back then when I thought I saw my brother, hope blinded me until I was in danger. I could never let that happen. Not in this cruel world.

"It's pilot Yunho, welcome on board, we are getting off the ground in ten seconds," Yunho murmured into the microphone that was surprisingly working. We laughed at his bickering and breathed in when the machine started to move. The next thing I knew was us being up in the sky, flying through the black smog that was floating in the air constantly. My jaw dropped as I looked down, where I could barely get the shapes of the destroyed city, the buildings fallen apart, remains lying on the ground unmoving, the streets full of abandoned cars, and no living creatures in sight. I was in shock; it was totally a different point of view. As I looked further and further, as long as the fog let us. It looked horrible. Dystopian. Like it was a game where they dropped you into an abandoned city and you needed to survive. But sadly, it was not a game.

As we reached the end of the city heading towards our base, we spotted the ocean. We didn't even know we were next to an ocean the fog did not let us see it, it came in handy—maybe we could travel with ships, so we wouldn't meet with unpleasant people along the way.

Everyone was in silence as we tried to take in the view that wasn't the best in our lives. I looked down at the beach where I spotted a figure running, it looked like it was a girl, because her hair was flowing behind her and he was holding a gun wearing all black. I was so distracted watching her, that I did not notice the strange noises the plane made.

"What is happening?" San asked his voice getting worried.

"Don't worry, I can handle it," Yunho said as his face was focused, pushing some buttons on the console. He had no idea what he was doing.

"Oh my God we are going to die." Jongho's voice came from behind panicked.

I looked down, we were quite far away from the safe land, and my heart started to beat fast. There was no way it was going to end like this.

As Yunho pushed some buttons, it seemed the engine got to its full power again, and we released a sigh we all held on to that. But then suddenly the engine fully stopped and we didn't even have time to process what was happening. Only hold for our dear life, and pray to the Gods to save us. I looked at Yunho panicked who tried to control the plane to at least land in the ocean—which was safer than the dry land.

Then Yunho held my hands as I squeezed my eyes shut, not wanting to witness my own death. The next moment, I felt the collapse. It was overwhelming—an explosion of colors, and then everything went black. 

The Black Day.

I was heading to my flat with my best friend from work after a tiring day when the chaos started. While we discussed with my best friend what kind of movie should we watch, that was the first time we heard the sirens. It was low and whispered danger. We did not pay much attention to it, as there were days when the city made some tests with these sirens.

But when we saw people run around panicked, my best friend held onto my arm, not wanting to let me go. Especially when the guards with scary big gas masks separated us, saying everyone needed to go to their district. I still remember the face of my best friend, when we cried trying to hold onto each other, she was heartbroken as we both cried, promising we were going to find each other. I never saw my best friend again.

When the guards told me to go home, I was lost. I wasn't in my hometown. My family lived miles away from me. I couldn't go home and see my family. I was a college student and it was my second year in university. I barely went home, because my family lived far away and I needed to work to pay my bills. It was hard not seeing my family only once a month.

But when I got close up with strange people in a crowded room, I have never felt that lost. I didn't know what to do and what was even happening. Then the people with the gas masks on came back and dragged us into a school bus to take us into an improvised survivor camp, where they only enlisted young and ambitious people. If there were children or old women, they transported them somewhere else and we never found out where they took them.

When the masked men told us what happened in the world and what are we doing there, I was full of anger and felt like I could burn the whole world down. Just as half of the population thought. And this is why the world now looked like it was in fact burned down.

The smoke was spreading unstoppably and no one knew how to stop it. So, people needed to adjust to this terrifying situation, they needed to survive. And in this survivor camp, they taught us how to do it. This was the reason I survived for five months alone. I was hoping somehow with a miracle happening I am going to meet with my family along the way. But I never saw my family again.

I was with my family; we were eating dinner. Everyone was smiling and laughing, my brother looked at me and said how proud he was of me. My mother held my hand and told me to keep going. Then I looked at my father whose face looked a little concerned, he opened his mouth to say something—wake up—but it wasn't his voice, it came from far away, I was confused as I still looked at my father's face.

WAKE UP! I heard again.

Y/N, WAKE UP!

Then I opened my eyes and sat up breathing heavily. My head was aching so bad I needed to close my eyes for a second, then I felt a painful stinging coming from my chest.

"Finally, Cinderella managed to wake up from her long beauty sleep." I heard a familiar voice that always made my heart relieved.

"Wooyoung!" I snapped my head up to look at him. His usual black framed glass was sitting on his tall nose, his sharp eyes were boring into mine, and he was wearing a light blue hoodie that hid his well-defined body well, paired with sweatpants. I hugged him close to me.

"Are you okay? Is everyone okay?" I asked starting to get panicked. I just realized I was in one of the base's rooms, where usually the injured ones were.

"The question is mine. Are you okay? You slept like a mummy, man. Seonghwa told us, you should wake up in a few hours but you just did not wake up, Y/N, you scared me…" His voice got low as he sat next to me on the bed. "You hit your head very bad and a few of your ribs are broken, but that should heal quickly now you are awake. Thank God." My best friend said as he looked down at his fidgeting hands, and I needed to smile at the fact of how worried he looked.

"I'm okay now, Woo," I said as I scooted closer to him and leaned my head against his as he turned towards me. Then I just hugged him again, because I loved him so much, I would burn the whole world down if needed, even though it was already burnt into ashes.

Then everything just flashed in images in front of my eyes. The plane. The falling. The crushing. The blackness.

I separated quickly from Wooyoung looking at him shocked. "W-what happened? Where are the others? Tell me they are okay Woo." Sudden emotions hit me and I was so scared something would happen with them.

"Hey, relax, Y/N. They are okay." He cupped my face into his hands as I sighed in relief. "Well…mostly."

"What do you mean?" I looked at him shocked, my heart rate at the highest.

"San and Jongho made it with smaller injuries. San broke his right arm and Jongho suffered a brain concussion, but it's slight so he is going to be okay." He said caressing my cheek to calm me down. "And Yunho…he is…he is in a coma. He hit his head severely and some nerves in his brain aren't functioning. It needs time to heal. It seems very serious but Seonghwa said let's not give up hope, he is a very strong guy, and he can fight this off." He wiped the tears away that escaped from my eyes.

We were so stupid; how could we think it was a good idea to take off a random plane without any knowledge of how to drive it? We were responsible for our lives and still, we just threw it away like it was garbage. I really hoped Yunho was going to be okay. No—not hoping, because I knew he was going to be okay.

"He is going to be okay, I'm sure." I nodded in determination as I said. "How's Hana?"

"She can barely keep up, but she is next to Yunho all the time."

"How did we get back here?"

"A girl found you and helped you. She said she was at the beach right when you crushed. You were lucky to crash into the ocean; it absorbed much of the impact. So, San was on the verge of fainting when she went to the plane to see if you made it. San told her where the base was and then she ran to our base to call us. But we were occupied a little back here." Wooyoung's face became frustrated. 

"What happened here? The others?" One particular sharp face jumped into my mind and it seemed I couldn’t shake it off.

"Our base got attacked while you were away," Wooyoung said his expression getting sad.

"What? How? What the hell happened Woo?" I got up and ran my fingers through my hair stressed, ignoring the pain coming from my ribs.

"Some random people, who were well-armed, attacked our base and almost burned down the whole base. But we managed to fight them off. Oh my God, Y/N, I thought that's it. This is the end. But then these other guys came and helped us." He buried his face into his hands stressed.

"Who were they?" I asked feeling very thankful for those guys that saved my family.

"I don't know, they told us they came with good intentions and just wanted to ally with us. They call themselves Xikers or what, they are a bunch of kids but still helped us."

 I felt relieved, if the base had been burnt down, that would have been the worst. And I was so thankful everyone was okay…well mostly okay. But I still didn't know one piece of information and it bothered me, boiling my veins with worry.

"Is-is Hongjoong okay?" I asked looking down at the ground as I needed to support myself on the table behind me.

Wooyoung stood up and walked towards me, he grabbed my hand and looked into my eyes with a sadness I had never seen before.

I shook my head. "Wooyoung don't do this." Tears appeared in my eyes.

"He's…" Wooyoung reached his hand towards my cheek to tuck my hair behind my ear. "Hongjoong is—"

Then I heard a door slam and I looked towards it and I saw him. Hongjoong was standing in the doorway with an angry expression that also showed clear signs of worry. He was wearing his black leather vest a black shirt under it paired with black pants, his hair messed up, and some black strings falling onto his forehead. I was speechless for a moment, but when I came to my senses, I let go of Wooyoung's hands and ran towards Hongjoong not letting him time to even blink I wrapped my hands around his neck and hugged him strongly.

"Hey, be careful, sweetheart, you’re injured," he murmured into the crook of my neck, his hands on my waist gently pulling me away to keep my broken ribs from pressing against him.

"I don't care, you are alive," I said into his ear almost tearing up.

"Why wouldn't I be?" He asked as he pulled away to look into my eyes caressing my cheeks with a frown.

"Wooyoung told me—well it seemed on his expression you were dead…" I looked next to me angrily, where Wooyoung was leaning against the table with a shit-eating grin.

"I didn't say he was dead, I'm just good at acting Y/N, I'm glad it worked." He giggled with a devil smile.

"Jung Wooyoung, I swear to God—you son of a pigeon." I escaped from Hongjoong's arms to chase Wooyoung and slapped him as he held an arm out as a shield.

"Okay, enough. Act yourself out Wooyoung." I heard Hongjoong's voice from behind me, his hands finding their way around my waist. I didn't see his expressions but seeing Wooyoung's told me enough as his smile faded quickly and he sprinted towards the door. I followed him with my eyes squinting my eyes at him. "Hongjoong got stabbed," Wooyoung shouted lastly before slamming the door.

I turned back to Hongjoong with wide eyes. "What the hell is he talking about?"

Hongjoong sighed. "It's not a big deal." He turned away and walked towards the table next to the bed. He always did this, he always turned away when something was about him. He always cared about the others but not about himself.

"How is it not a big deal when you got fucking stabbed?" My voice got higher. I just wanted to scream at his face to not turn away from me. I walked towards him, slowly approaching him. He supported himself on the table looking down at it, his wide back facing with me. I was next to him as I saw his face, his eyes closed, his undercut showing. He looked like he was in pain, not just physically.

I reached my hands towards his chin to slowly, carefully lift it. He looked so vulnerable I was scared I might break him. When he looked at me, I saw so much pain in his eyes. He went through a lot. His family died in front of his eyes. The smoke killed them and his family shouted at him to run and to survive. I knew this was what kept him going. But after five years, only their faded memory remained. What was the reason for him to keep going?

I caressed his cheek like my hands were a feather, scared his skin might fall apart. "Where did you get stabbed?" I whispered looking into his eyes that looked so divine, that I was ready to fall on my knees.

He looked away for a moment. "On my back," He scoffed. "It's so embarrassing, I can't watch my back for a second and this happens…"

I felt worried as I looked at his face it seemed he was really ashamed of it. "Hongjoong look at me," I tilted his head towards me to look into my eyes. "It's embarrassing for the person who did it. They couldn't face you because they knew they wouldn't make it alive if they did."

"Well, they didn't make it either way." His lips curved up a little and mine as well at that.

"Take it off!" I demanded holding his vest in my hands, feeling the leather material under my touch. 

He just looked at me a little confused.

"I want to see your wound, Hong."

He just nodded and grabbed my hand to slowly take it off his body, so he could unbutton the vest, his sharp eyes never leaving mine. My heart was in my ears, I couldn’t hear the usual noises of the base coming from the other rooms. I only saw Kim Hongjoong in front of me as he unbuttoned his black shirt as well after throwing the vest on the floor. He slowly took off the shirt his upper body now fully on the sight. His abs were well-defined, his chest full of strength where a tattoo of a sneak's head was hissing at me. I reached my fingers towards the snake's head to trace the tattoo as I looked at it. Hongjoong's gaze still bored into mine. I followed the snake's figure with my finger as it came from his back, and then I walked behind him, still following the snake with my finger all over his back. My fingers traveled through the snake's length as I felt Hongjoong shiver under my touch. The snake circled all over Hongjoong's back, ending on his chest where the sneak’s head was.

I always admired the tattoo whenever I saw it, while he was working out or just changed. But I never got the opportunity to touch it, and that was one of my most wanted desires. Then there was the stab, it was stitched carefully, Seonghwa doing a good job as always, some white ointments were all over it, so it wouldn't get inflamed. I circled the wound with my finger as I heard him hissing. I leaned down a little to leave a healing kiss above it.

"So, it's going to heal faster," I whispered warmly onto his skin.

"Sweetheart," I heard his desperate voice coming from above.

I did not stop leaving kisses all around his back, following the line of the snake on his back, as I got up to his nape kissing it. My arms circled his abdomen as I left one last kiss on his neck, putting my chin on his wide shoulder. He leaned his head against mine as he kissed my temple. "Thank you," He whispered as he took my hands from his abdomen and turned around to cup one side of my cheek, his other hand on my waist pulling me close to him. I bit my lower lip as my body got hotter, my heart beating unstoppably. He looked into my eyes like I was his whole world, even though it was doomed into a speck of dust.

"I was so worried, Y/N, I thought you would never come back to me." His eyes were full of emotions and with tears.

"I said it's not easy to get rid of me." I smiled at him as I felt his fingers trace through my face.

He smiled at that too and traced his fingers through my temple, where I felt a little stinging, I didn’t even notice I got injured there as well. Then his warm lips were on my wound again.

"So, it's going to heal," His lips curved up into a sincere smile that I have never seen. It cured everything inside me, it didn’t matter if I was injured, his smile healed everything inside and outside of me. Then his hands traveled down to my waist and went under my T-shirt, touching my skin with his warm fingers.

"Let me see your wounds, Y/N," He whispered close to my lips, his eyes so genuine, that he made me trust him. I always did, since the day they found me on the top of that building.

I just nodded, signaling to him I trusted him. His fingers grabbed the hem of my oversized white T-shirt and lifted it very carefully, looking into my eyes the whole time. When he took it off, I was standing in front of him half-naked. We were now equal as both of us were standing in front of the other in a vulnerable state and were injured, yet full of passion that made our pain go away.

His eyes landed on my chest and on my ribs where a bandage was wrapped around my torso. There were a few black and blue marks under my ribs. Hongjoong traced his fingers through them carefully so as not to hurt me. Then he kneeled and looked up at me from there, his eyes questioning if he was allowed to touch me. I just nodded as words simply couldn't escape my mouth.

Hongjoong then leaned against my warm skin and left soft pecks on the blue marks. My chest was rising up and down quickly as I felt like I was in heaven. His lips traced above my ribs, on my chest, leaving healing kisses there, then he stood up and kissed my neck where once his hands were wrapped around when he almost sent me to the other world. Since then, he just couldn't stop apologizing for that move, saying it wasn't him and he would never hurt me. I forgave him because I truly deserved that and because he made me stronger, he made me keep going instead of my family. He was my family. They were my family.

“I’m jealous of Seonghwa because he got to see you like this before I did.” He whispered onto my lips in a possessive way and cupped my face.

As he caressed my cheeks I looked up into his eyes and after five years I felt like I was at home, home that gave me safeness and warmth in this cruel and cold world. When his warm lips met mine, it felt as if the world healed around us. The darkness faded away, and the sun emerged once more, casting warmth over a world that had been cold for five years.

The last time I felt this warm was when Hongjoong held me in his arms when I was on the verge of dying. That was the last time I felt the sun come out between the dark mist. He was my sun that we couldn't feel anymore.

His lips gave me warmth as they moved against mine, I wrapped my hands around his neck as he turned me around to lift me at the table. I wrapped my legs around his torso as he was holding me by my waist, squeezing it, making me let out a quiet moan as his hands squeezed a black mark on my stomach. My hands traveled down his chest and then to his back where I felt the snake as it almost circled my wrist. I felt his wound that I traced with my finger and he let out a hiss on that and sucked my lower lip between his teeth, making it almost bleed as I hissed at that too. He captured my lips in a deep possessive kiss, that made me part my lips and let his tongue dive into my mouth. Our tongues met with each other and danced along to our heartbeats as I let out a moan. I bit his lower lip as we fought for a little dominance, he let out a low groan at that, kissing me deeply like he was obsessed with me and could never get enough of me. I felt the same because I wanted to be with him in this dark and cruel world, to be his reason to keep going now that his family was just a memory. I wanted to be his reason to survive.

 And he was mine.   

When our eyes met again, his gaze was filled with desire and emotions that mirrored my own. Emotions that connected us, that made us feel like we belonged to each other in this cruel world, so we could fight together against the bad. That came in the form of a dark mist that always whispered you promises, promises that said it's going to be better if you die. But dying isn't the solution. Survival was the only solution here and it did not matter how long you needed to survive, you had to because there were people who counted on you, people who were the reason to survive.

Survival wasn’t about the world anymore. It was about the people you encountered along the way, those who became your family amidst the dark mist that whispered of unachievable desires. But if you fight for it, you can achieve anything. I was determined to stand with Hongjoong and the others, so we could save the world one day.

(Ateez masterlist)

Yunho's part-> Demons of The Darkened Mist