#and then the 'from here' hits and it's a ko for me. really tugs at all the right heartstrings | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luv4fandoms · 1 year

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Trust me (Marko x Fem!Reader)

So part of this is based on a dream I had. Pretty much just the really weird location to have sex. But I feel like it is also very Marko and his love of heights lol.

And as always, all Italian is from Google translate so I do apologize if any of it is incorrect.

Also this plays off of my first ever headcanon post about Marko being Italian.

Word count: 3,811

Pairings: Marko x Fem!Reader

Warnings: THIS IS JUST PURE SMUT!!! MINORS DNI!!!

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬, 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬, 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

Ko-Fi

"Come on, it'll be fun"

"The last time you said that we ended up almost getting banned from the boardwalk because of trying to climb the Farris wheel"

"Babe I promise, no one will even know we're here" he smiled, that mischievous smile that let you know what he wanted was not legal nor wise…But you also knew he would never put you in harm's way.

"Fine" you sighed

"You won't regret this cutie" he told you, grabbing your hand and pulling you along. The two of you walked towards the outskirts of the boardwalk, the crowd thinning as you went.

'Well at least we're less likely to get caught'

He stopped in front of a tall structure, the entirety of it covered in fabric, cutting it off from the rest of the world.

"After you" he smirked, holding the curtain back to reveal a narrow staircase. Looking at him, then back at the stairs you could only shake your head and laugh, but ascended the stairs nonetheless. It had a few different levels, but only the very bottom had a wooden floor, the others simply held thick beams that would no doubt later support other floors, or perhaps lights.

"Keep going" you heard him speak, though you could tell he was not directly behind you, nor had you heard his footsteps yet. You stopped at another layer of beams, and again.

"Keep going"

Ascending the steps all the way to the top you look out at the large thick metal cross beams wondering just why your crazy boyfriend brought you up here.

"You're not planning on killing me right?" You joked, holding onto the end of the railing.

"No…well" he laughed, his warm breath against the back of your neck.

"Maybe a little bit" he smirked, his lips finding your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

"A little bit?" You laughed, tilting your head and reaching back to run your hand through his curls as his lips made their way to the newly exposed skin.

"Piccola morte (Little death)" he spoke, his hands coming to wrap around your waist, pulling you against him, letting you feel exactly what he had in mind.

"Here?" You asked, cutting your eyes towards him, but only being able to see his golden curls as he continued to mark your neck.

"How exactly…you're completely crazy" you laughed, feeling his smile against your neck, his lips leaving your skin to whisper into your ear.

"Do you trust me?"

"You know I do, that's why I'm up here in the first place"

"Then trust me" he spoke, unwrapping his arms and helping you take your first step into the beams.

"This is crazy Marko" you breathed, looking down at the floor far below, your heart rate picking up.

"I'm not going to let you fall, take another step" and you did, because you knew he wouldn't, Marko was quick and could fly, you would be in his arms before you ever hit the ground…But that didn't stop your sudden fear of heights at that moment.

"Couple more steps" he told you, walking you slowly towards where the beams crossed, making a plus sign that would be a stable part to stand.

"There you go" he reassured you once you made it, you let him slowly turn you to face him, his hazel eyes sparkling with that same mischief.

"You're crazy" you once again told him, but the smile that tugged on your lips told him you weren't actually mad.

"You love it" he replied.

"Now, lay down" you looked down at the beams, then back at him for a moment before beginning to slowly sit, his hands never leaving your waist as he lowered himself as well. Once you were sitting he helped you lean back, your arms shooting out to grab him as he lowered you onto the beams that were just a few inches smaller than your body on either side.

"I've got you amore" he spoke, leaning down to kiss you, his lips only leaving yours once he felt you relax a bit. His kisses descended back to your neck, always his favorite spot as he licked and bit at the tender flesh, eliciting soft moans and gasps from your lips. Your hands wandered as he worked, one tangling itself in his curls, gently tugging the locks and pulling a growl from him. Your other wandered under his jacket, your hands running along his toned stomach, the skin cooler than yours but warmer than earlier, the boys had already gone out for their nightly hunt, the adrenaline no doubt being the cause of your current situation. Your hand wandered higher, nails gently scraping along his chest and earning a small thrust as he settled between your legs, the bulge much more prominent now as he began to grind against you.

"Marko" you sighed, lifting your hips to meet him and feeling him grind down harder, a low rumble vibrating against your chest as he tilted your head to the other side, determined to remark all the faded spots. The steady rumble against you grew louder the faster your heart raced, you had only heard Marko purr a few times, and noticed that it was always a different tone depending on the activity. Gently running your hand through his hair while he laid his head in your lap, a soft and gentle purr. The beginning stages of losing himself in ecstasy, a deeper rougher purr, just as he was doing now as his hips began to pick up their speed. His lips quickly attached to yours again, parting them forcefully as he stole your quickened breath, a moan tumbling into your mouth as you snuck your other hand into his shirt, your nails running along his back, just hard enough to sting.

"Cazzo! (Fuck!) " He groaned, breaking the kiss and looking down at you, pupils blown as he panted, and suddenly you felt like prey underneath a predator. You watched him lick his swollen lips, his teeth catching his bottom lip as he looked at you, his hips stilling before he smiled, his body slowly crawling backward along the beam, hands letting go of your waist which had you scrambling to grab a hold of something, your body rocking on the beam.

"Calm down amore, just relax and balance" he told you, hands grasping your ankles before slowly sliding upwards, and suddenly you were thankful for wearing a skirt, because you did not know how you would have taken pants off at the moment. He slowly pushed your skirt up, helping you lift your hips to bunch it around your waist before he lowered his body, balancing perfectly as he kissed along your thighs, tongue reaching out to swipe a path that his teeth soon followed with small nips. You started to squirm as he kissed and nipped everywhere but where you needed him, your heart picking up as you felt yourself become even wetter, you knew he could smell you, knew he could hear your heart, but Marko was known for being a tease.

"Marko" you breathed, not failing to catch the smirk that instantly spread. If there was one thing he loved it was hearing you beg for him, knowing you craved him, craved his touch, craved anything and everything he could give you. He would never admit it, but when you two first met it took him by surprise when you instantly chose to talk to him. Usually it was Paul who girls came to talk to, Paul always being the honeypot to draw in the night's meal. Or Dwayne, even though he doesn't talk much, his looks alone draw girls in. Hell even David tends to get girls drawn to him who have daddy issues, but Marko?.. Marko was fine with that, let the others do the work while he reaps the tasty benefits. But that night they hadn't necessarily been looking for a meal, the hunt a few hours before filling their need, but still Paul wanted to "score some chicks" for other reasons…And he did, a group of girls, all of them flitting to one boy or the other, but none to Marko. Rolling his eyes he looked away from his brothers and the girls, already ready to simply head back to the cave. But instead he came face to face with you as you rounded his bike.

"Sorry about them, they are a little…Eager" you laughed.

"I like your bike, and your jacket, you have a really cool style" and that was how he spent the night simply talking to you, no other motive than just to get to know the girl who actually had the guts to approach him "the ticking time bomb" of the group. It didn't take him long to claim you as his, he didn't care if his brothers wanted your friends or not, he wanted you, and lucky for him, you wanted him as well. Also lucky for him, you trusted him with everything you had.

"Si? (Yes?)" He asked, still pressing gentle kisses against your inner thighs, right next to your pulsing core, he wouldn't admit it, but the smell of your arousal was making it hard to focus on teasing you. Between the adrenaline of the hunt and your dripping heat, all he wanted to do was bury himself balls deep and fuck you until you were screaming his name.

"Marko, please" you whimpered, trying to lift your core to his mouth, but a harsh bite had you mewling.

"Greedy tonight huh?"

"Only for you" you panted

"Only for me?" He laughed, hot breaths fanning over your clothed core and making you groan.

"Should I take pity on you tonight? Let you have what you want?"

"Yes! Please Marko" you pleaded, gripping the beam under you and leaning up to look at him.

"Well…Since you asked nicely" he smiled, pulling your panties to the side and licking a long stripe along your heat.

"Fuck!" You moaned, head falling back to the beam.

"We have to be quiet, or someone might catch us again" he laughed, no doubt referring to not only the ferris wheel, but also the time the two of you had been caught going at it in one of the beach changing tents. You were sure you were a sight for the very pissed security guard, your pants bunched around your ankle, your other wrapped around Marko's waist as he held it up, his own pants around his knees while he didn't even bother to stop, his face buried in your neck as he groaned about how tight you were. Marko wasn't necessarily into exhibitionism, he didn't want anyone to see you that way but him, but God did he love it when he knew you were loud enough for other people to hear what he was doing to you. Even more when you would return to the crowd, being stared at as he just threw his arm around you, a very proud smirk on his face. That being said, he also loved to tease you about how loud you could get at times…like right now as he ate you out like a man starved, his hands holding your legs open as he buried his face in you, tongue going as deep as it could and pulling a moan from you, before circling your clit. His finger replaced his tongue a moment later as he sucked your clit, tongue flicking over it quickly, a move he knew brought you shooting to your peak. His other hand slid up, hand gliding under your shirt and bra to grasp your breast, pinching the hardened bud in just the way he knew that heightened your pleasure. Your hand quickly covered your mouth when his tongue replaced his finger again, throwing your leg over his shoulder as he went to town. If there was one thing that shocked you about Marko (aside from finding out what he was) it was how much he enjoyed going down on you. Most guys avoided it at all cost and yet wanted you to offer it to them, but not Marko. The first time you two ever did anything together he brought you to a blinding finish twice with his mouth and fingers alone, stating that he could eat you forever, a laughable statement now that you know how true it actually is. A harsh suck on your clit brought you back to reality, as you almost screamed into your hand, your eyes darting down to meet almost black, but you could see the gold beginning to seep through, something he no longer hid away as he took his pleasure in you, now that you knew what he was there was no need to hide the fact that doing this to you, with you, always brought his more feral side out.

"Marko" you pleaded, eyes beginning to water at the intense feeling in your gut, meeting his gaze didn't help, you always felt like he was devouring you completely, body, mind, and soul when he looked at you like that.

"Hai intenzione di finire per me amore? (Are you going to finish for me love?)" He all but growled out, hot breaths fanning your core. He knew you didn't understand him, but he also knew you loved it when he spoke his mother tongue. You had let that secret out one night while things were getting hot and heavy and he slipped into the language.

"Shit!" You groaned when he entered two fingers into you, pumping quickly. Truth be told he didn't know how much longer he could wait, tonight he was more wound up than usual.

"Talk to me baby" he cooed, inserting a third finger and watching as you had to grab a hold of the beam to keep your balance, your hips lifting to meet his fingers.

"Sempre così pronto per me (always so ready for me)" he panted, watching your heat swallow his fingers again and again.

"Fuck! Marko please" you begged, unsure of what you were even begging for at this point, all you knew was that the coil in your stomach was winding tighter and only Marko could make it snap. And he did know that, so in an instant his lips had reattached to your mound, tongue movie along it while his fingers worked you open for him and his other hand grasped your breast, claws slightly extending and scratching your skin as he began to lose himself, the scent of you, the taste of you, the sounds of your racing heart and pumping blood mixing with the sweet sounds of your moans was making him dizzy and he knew he needed to get you across your finish line, to see that look of pure ecstasy cross your face. He watched you climb, your hand reaching out to grab his arm that had abandoned your breast, coming to hold your waist as you began to lose your balance on the beam, your head tilted back as silent screams left you, your legs coming up, body winding tight. With one last flick of his tongue he quickly moved forward, sealing his lips against your and swallowing the scream that ripped from your throat as he pushed you over the edge, his fingers now slowing as he held you close,his lips sucking dark spots on your neck as he pushed you through your overstimulation and into another orgasm, this one causing you to gush even more around his fingers and he knew you were ready. He watched you slowly catch your breath as you blinked, your brain fuzzy from the pleasure but aware of the sound of him undoing his pants and shuffling them around his thighs, his hands coming to wrap your legs around his thin waist before he leaned over you, pulling down your shirt enough for him to place kisses along your chest as he slowly pushed in, a groan leaving him immediately.

"Così stretto (so tight)" he panted, hands grabbing your waist as he started moving, and it didn't take long for him to find that perfect speed that had the both of you trying to muffle your moans.

"Così buono, Cazzo! Così fottutamente bene (So good, Fuck! So fucking good)" he whimpered into your neck, his breaths coming out quicker as he started to lose himself.

"Voglio solo restare qui per sempre (I just want to stay here forever)" he moaned, breath fanning against your heated skin.

"S-Shit! Marko" you whined, teeth digging into your lip as you tried to be quiet, though the wet sound of skin on skin was beginning to grow louder.

"amo quando mi chiami, pregami per questo, urla per me…Io e solo io…Solo io (I love when you call me, beg me for this, yell for me…me and only me…Only me)" He panted, voice breaking as he moaned against your skin, nails digging into your thighs where he was now holding like his life depended on it as he drove into you, forehead pressed against your chest as he whimpered, his body winding tighter while yours grew tighter around him.

"Non durerò amore mio (I won't last my love)" he groaned, head lifting to meet your gaze but seeing your head thrown back, hair a mess from gliding back and forth along the beam, neck and chest flushed and on full display, your humming heartbeat tempting him. He watched as your back bowed when he hit that spot inside you, your breasts pressing up to him while he cursed once more at the sight. His hips stilling only for a moment so he could push your shirt up over your breasts, his hands returning to his own shirt and ripping it open. He'd deal with you scolding him for ruining another shirt later, right now he just needed to feel your skin against his. His movement returned just as you began whimpering, your hands reaching out for him and coming in contact with his now bare front. Your eyes opened and looked at him, his own eyes focused on you as his chest heaved, his stomach muscles moving and contacting with every thrust of his hips. You would scold him about ruining another shirt later, but right now all you could focus on was grabbing him and pulling him closer. Both of you sighing as your chests meet, the feeling on his cooler skin helping you cool down, while the feeling of your racing heart against his chest was only heating him up more.

"ho bisogno che tu finisca…perché non so quanto resisterò (I need you to finish..because I don't know how long I'll last)" he moaned against your neck, his hands lifting your legs higher while yours buried themselves in his hair, tugging at the curls and listening as he growled, his hips stuttering as he tried to hold out.

"Finisci con me,fammi sentire il tuo amore (Finish with me, let me feel your love)" he spoke, his hips picking up speed and strength, his sign that he was on the edge.

"Marko! Fuck baby I'm, Fuck!"

"Urla per me! Grido! Voglio che tutti sappiano che sei mio…Solo mio (Yell for me! Scream! I want everyone to know that you are mine…Only mine)"

"Shit! Marko I'm gonna cum! I'm! FUCK!" You yelled as he latched onto your neck, his fangs sinking in as he fed from you, his own hips stuttering as your heat tightened around him, refusing to let him go, so instead his body decided to let go. Lips red from the blood that now dripped down his chin as his head tilted upwards, eyes rolling back as his mouth opened, and a sudden shout left him while his hips slammed forwards repeatedly before stilling, his warmth painting your walls and filling you. After a moment both of you slowly drifted back down to reality while he leaned forward, lips gently kissing the bite mark as he closed it before nuzzling into your neck. More foreign words were softly spoken in your ear as Marko came down from his high, something that you had found out tends to happen every time. When he would lose himself in pleasure he completely forgot how to speak English, and even after it would take him a moment to resort back to it, you told him one day you wanted to learn Italian so that he didn't have to worry about you not understanding him. Though the look on his face was of both joy and embarrassment, and right now you wondered what sort of love stricken words was he softly breathing against your skin that he would normally be too embarrassed by.

"Il mio bellissimo amore (my beautiful love)" he breathed, kissing your cheek before lifting himself up and hovering over you, the feeling of him still inside you had the both of you moaning. You watched as he pulled out, your mixed finished slowly dripping onto the beams, and you watched as a shit eating grin spread across his face before he slipped his fingers inside, causing you to try to move away due to the sensitivity. But he held you with one hand, reassuring you as he pulled your combined spend from your abused hole. When he felt he had gotten enough he released you, sucking his fingers clean while looking down at the floor far beneath.

"What was that for?" You groaned.

"Christening the place" he smirked, popping his now clean fingers out of his mouth.

"There was enough to even drop down to the bottom" he laughed as you covered your face.

"Oh my God you are the worst" you groaned.

"Awe you know you love me" he teased while pulling your hands away.

"You better be glad I do" you smiled at him, watching as he leaned down to capture your lips in a kiss, a kiss that would have gotten heated had it not been for the sound of footsteps entering the area. Within a second Marko had his pants up, and your shirt righted before he picked you up and jumped out of the opposite side of the curtain just as a flashlight showed where you two had been. You listened as the man began to complain loudly about the "Godless couples who will Fuck anywhere" while Marko floated you both safely to the ground before grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the beach.

"That was way too close"

"At least they didn't catch us this time"

"Marko!"

"What?"

"Not funny" you stated, but still couldn't help but laugh.

"Where is the fun if there isn't a little risk" he smiled, still pulling you along.

"Where are we going anyways?"

"A spot I found on the beach yesterday"

"...Marko you're not suggesting"

"The night is still young baby, and I'm far from done with you"

Taglist

@6lostgirl6

@solobagginses

@burnbookarilostgirl16

#the lost boys #tlb #the lost boys 1987 #tlb 1987 #marko tlb #marko the lost boys #the lost boys marko #marko #marko x female reader #tlb marko x reader #marko x reader #vampire smut #vampire x reader #vampire #vampire boyfriend

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beneathashadytree · 11 months

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Hey hope you're doing well. Could I request midnight and miruko separately pegging their s/o and praising/body worshipping them bcus their s/o feels insecure. If you don't want to do the pegging then just the body worship will do. Thanks and I hope you keep on writing because I really enjoy what you do.

ALWAYS PERFECT - MIDNIGHT/NEMURI KAYAMA & MIRKO/RUMI USAGIYAMA X READER

Warnings : use of strap-on, light scratching, praise, implied dacryphilia, penetrative sex, body worship, lots of kissing, implied marking kink, light nipple play, this is not proofread, there’s so much love in here I swear, both Nemuri and Rumi are soft doms, bottom!reader, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : fluffy smut <3

Word count : 0.7K words

Additional notes : Hi there! Sorry it took so long. When you sent this in, my requests weren’t open except for my prompt list. On another note, I’d never actually written pegging (or female characters domming the reader, for that matter), so it was pretty interesting to try out! Thank you for being so sweet🫶🏽 Hope you like this piece!💗

Tip jar if you’d like to buy me a Ko-Fi!

Masterlist

“A-ah,” they cried out, legs automatically wrapping themselves around Nemuri’s waist and dragging her in deeper; deep enough to hit that one spot that filled their vision with stars with just how good it felt.

“You like it deep, don’t you, sweetheart?” she purred, nails lightly scraping against their chest and causing them to shiver. As they squirmed underneath her, she cooed at just how adorable they looked when she was fucking them like that; like she took delight in every facial expression and jolt of their hips.

And she really did, especially when they nodded so eagerly, their hand blindly reaching out for hers. “How could you think you’re anything less than perfect?” Nemuri sighed, thrusting her strap inside their slick hole slowly, making sure to drag every ridge inside them deliciously. “Look at you, sobbing all over my cock. Look like an angel, I swear.”

“I’m not,” they let out a shuddering breath, which turned into a gasp of sheer pleasure as their girlfriend pulled their leg up to rest on her shoulder, the new angle hitting impossibly deeper and pulling a pitiful whine from their swollen lips.

She clicked her tongue at their words, before gently caressing the soft skin of their calf, and pressing gentle, sweet kisses against their leg that completely contradicted the way they were fucking them mercilessly. “Mmm, but you’re breathtaking. Swear it. Even more so when you’re this close to cumming. Want my fingers on you too, darling?”

Red as their tear-stained cheeks were with the sheer embarrassment that came with her lovely praise, they couldn’t help the tug at their core. “Y-yes, please. Make me cum, please, ‘m close.” They were practically begging, as she always brought them to, with the way she abused their insides and stuffed them full.

Nemuri leaned in with a punctuated thrust of her hips, her blue eyes clouded with unbridled lust and sheer adoration as she kissed them with ardor, teeth tugging at their pouting lips. “Anything for my pretty baby.”

No matter how hard Rumi tried to deny it, she was addicted to the feeling of stuffing them full with her rubber cock and grinding her clit into it at the same time.

It didn’t help that they looked absolutely delectable whenever she pushed in to the hilt, bumping into their most sensitive spot and getting them to whimper her name like it was some sort of erotic mantra, while she busied her lips with marking them all up in her favorite colors. Something about their shimmering eyes and plump lips falling open with every sigh went straight to her core.

“There we go,” she mumbled into their neck from behind them, being on their side making it all the better to fuck them slowly but so good like this. “You sound all fucking cute, y’know? Can’t help myself when it comes to you.”

“‘M not cute,” they sounded all grumbly, though it only endeared them more to her. Really, how could they not see just how perfect they are? Especially when she was making such a cute mess of them.

Rumi nibbled at their warm skin, making sure that the blooming red marks wouldn’t be going any time soon. She had to admit, seeing the hickeys she leaves on them made an even stickier mess between her legs. “Calling it like how I see it, babe,” she chuckled breathily, before moaning as a particularly deep thrust of her hips brought just the right amount of pressure on her achy clit. “Fuck, mmm, just want to make my beautiful darling feel good.”

“Touch me,” her lover sighed, bliss on their starstruck face, “Now, please, Rumi.” With an impatient tug to her arm, they pulled her hand to just where they wanted it.

With every stroke she made, Rumi could see them getting more desperate, wantonly crying her name as they humped back onto her strap. It was equal parts filthy and adorable; seeing just how much they wanted her to fuck them half-stupid.

“The best little hole I’ve ever stretched.” Rumi couldn’t help but tease and pinch their sensitive nipple with her free hand, delighting in the shiver and squirm she earned at that. She breathed out a laugh. “‘Course it belongs to the person I’ve most loved. Now, let’s see how many times I can get you to cum, hmm?”

Taglist: @thispersoniscrazy @wifeofkyojuro

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whatacaitastrophe · 26 days

Text

Everything Has Changed - Chapter 13

Previous Chapter

Chapter Song Inspiration: "Morally Grey" - April Jai ft. Nation Haven

Chapter Warnings: PiV sex, Oral sex, Hand jobs, blood drinking, threesome F/M/M, masturbation, voyeurism, edgeplay, teasing, female ejaculation

Spotify Playlist: Here

Author Notes: thank you all so much for reading, reblogging, liking, and commenting on this fic (and the first one)! if you are interested in supporting me in other ways, I have a Ko-Fi link <3

i also have a discord server! it was created to coincide with my twitch channel but you do NOT need to follow/subscribe/watch my twitch streams to come hang out with us <3 we talk a lot about bg3 and share memes and fics.

Chapter 13: Your Body I'll Worship

The door to the bedroom swung open magically with a small wave of Gale’s hand, and a wave of pride washed through Fallon. Gale had been working so hard to completely re-learn magic in this new way, and it didn’t surprise her that the simple spells were coming back to him as easily as breathing. Though Fallon only got the briefest moment to think about Gale’s progress before she became distracted by the sight laid out before her.

There were even more black dahlia petals scattered throughout the room, candles on every surface that could safely hold a candle, and there was soft music coming from a phonograph in the far corner. Then there was the bed. The big, beautiful, four-poster bed that would most certainly hold all three of them comfortably, even to sleep. “Did you buy the bed just for this?” Fallon teased Gale.

“Would you believe me if I said no?” Gale chuckled. “Despite her size, Tara somehow manages to take up a very large spot on the bed when we sleep, so I purchased this particular piece of furniture well before I ever suspected I’d be sharing it with two other people.”

Fallon turned her attention to Astarion. “So what does this next phase of atonement entail, exactly?” She asked, a coy smile blooming on her face.

Astarion and Gale stopped moving once they reached the foot of the bed, and Astarion let go of her hand in favor of resting his hands on her hips and pulling Fallon closer to him, and she instinctively wrapped her arms around Astarion’s neck. “The first thing it involves, darling, is the removal of this absolutely delicious dress. Since I ruined the last one in my desperation to have you, I thought I’d let someone with slightly more patience do the honors.”

Astarion brushed Falllon’s hair from her shoulder and he leaned down to kiss the exposed skin, slowly working his way to her neck carefully so as not to bite her. Another pair of hands found her back and began to undo the fastenings, and it almost startled her, until she remembered it was Gale. “Though it really is a shame that Astarion ruined your Winter Solstice dress, I have to say, I’m quite fond of this one,” Gale made quick work of the fastenings on the back of her dress. Cool air hit Fallon’s back as it became more exposed as Gale unfastened each clasp; until finally, the only thing keeping the dress on Fallon’s body were the off the shoulder sleeves, and even they were losing a battle with gravity under the weight of the fabric.

Astarion removed his mouth from her neck and took a step back so he could look at her, reaching behind his neck to grab her hands and place them at her sides. “Turn around, darling. I think the sorcerer deserves a front row seat to what he’s been missing, don’t you?” Astarion kissed her slowly before taking hold of her hips once more and helping Fallon turn around to face Gale. Fallon did not break eye contact with Gale as she felt Astarion’s deft fingers sliding up from her hips to the bodice of her dress. With a firm tug, the black fabric floated to the floor, and for the first time in over two years, Fallon was naked in front of Gale.

“You cheeky thing, no undergarments at all?” Astarion teased as he wrapped his arms around Fallon from behind, his fingers tracing idle circles on her sides and he kissed her neck again. “Seems we’re not the only ones who planned ahead just in case .”

“The dress didn’t exactly allow for them.” Fallon defended herself, though a mischievous look shone in her eyes. It’s not like she couldn’t have picked another dress, after all. For once, Gale seemed to be too stunned to speak. Gale flexed his hands at his sides, like he wanted to reach out and touch Fallon, but he kept stopping himself. Fallon extended a hand to Gale, inviting him to come closer. To touch her. “I promise to let you know if you do something I’m not comfortable with.”

Gale forced himself to look away from Fallon’s body to study her face. He hesitated for less than two seconds before taking Fallon’s hand in his and closing the space between them. Gale’s hands settled on Fallon’s hips and he looked past Fallon and over her shoulder, presumably to look at Astarion. Whatever look or silent communication the vampire offered the sorcerer, it was enough to embolden Gale to take another step towards Fallon.

“May I kiss you, Fallon?” Gale asked softly, and her stomach did a backflip at the anticipation as she nodded. Gale reached up and tucked his index finger under her chin, using it to tilt her head upwards as he leaned in. When their mouths connected, a jolt of electricity shot through Fallon’s body as emotions she’d buried deep within her catapulted themselves to the surface once again as Gale flooded her senses. If kissing Astarion made her feel like she could conquer the world, kissing Gale was the reminder to survive and come home afterwards. Both feelings were equally important, and equally capable of reminding Fallon how loved she was, and to be loved by both Astarion and Gale? It might just be all Fallon has ever needed.

At the exact moment that Fallon deepened the kiss, parting her lips for Gale to explore her mouth with his tongue and carding her fingers through his chestnut hair, Fallon felt Astarion’s mouth back on her neck again as his cool hands slid over her skin. Where one hand moved up her body to cup her breast, kneading it with fingers and rolling his thumb over her pebbled nipple, the other moved down, the pads of his fingers dancing over her torso and her hip bone before sliding into place between her legs. Fallon moaned softly into Gale’s mouth as she felt Astarion’s fingers dip between her folds just enough to tease, and she felt her vampire smirking in amusement against her neck. Fallon knew she was already drenched with arousal– she had been since the moment she walked into the dining room and saw them standing there, dressed in their finest. “My, my, you have been thinking about this,” Astarion hummed, nipping gently at her shoulder with his teeth.

The hand that occupied her breast moved away, and Fallon almost made a noise in protest until she realized what Astarion was doing: He’d taken Gale’s hand from under her chin and guided it south to join Astarion’s other hand at the apex of her thighs. “Feel how ready she is for us and we’ve hardly done anything.” Astarion praised, replacing his hand with Gale’s. Gale pulled away from their kiss just far enough to look at Fallon, brushing their noses together as he silently asked for her permission before going further, and Fallon gave him the slightest nod of her head in return before kissing him again.

Fallon shuddered, moaning at the contact as Gale teased her further than Astarion had, pressing two fingers inside of her experimentally and brushed his thumb over her swollen clit. Gale smiled against Fallon’s lips. “I’ve missed that sound,” He admitted, shallowly thrusting his fingers inside of Fallon before pulling them out and stepping back from her entirely. Gale raised his fingers to his mouth, covered in the evidence of her arousal, and licked them obscenely. “I missed that, too.” Gale added, and Fallon realized Gale was not making eye contact with her as he did this, but with Astarion. Oh how she wished Astarion was not standing behind her, because she would have loved to see his reaction.

While she might not have seen the look on Astarion’s face as Gale taunted them both, Fallon felt Astarion’s cock begin hardening against her back and when Astarion turned Fallon back to face him, she saw the way his red eyes flared with need before he pressed his lips to hers in a heated kiss. The vampire’s hands roamed over her back and over her ass, giving it a firm squeeze before ending their descent at the back of her thighs so he could hoist Fallon into the air. Fallon instinctively did a little jump and wrapped her legs around Astarion’s middle, though she did not stay there for long. Astarion only carried her far enough to climb onto the bed and drop her in the middle of it. Fallon reached forward and started unbuttoning the buttons on Astarion’s shirt, desperate for skin on skin contact that he currently could not provide. “You have too many clothes on. The both of you.” Fallon complained, and Astarion tutted as he sat back on his knees between her legs.

“Patience, darling. I love your enthusiasm, tonight is about you. We’re going to take care of you, and if you want to take care of us , then you’ll need to be a good girl and wait.” Astarion instructed firmly, and Fallon whined.

“At least take your damn shirts off, I’m completely naked!” Fallon pouted.

“Your sandals are still on.” Gale pointed out with a smirk, nodding to the gold shoes and the laces that ran up her calves, and Fallon glared at him playfully. “Though I supposed we could oblige– both in removing your sandals and some of our own clothing, if that is what the lady wishes.”

Fallon nodded her head furiously and Gale chuckled as he began unbuttoning his shirt. The offending clothing hung loosely on his body as he joined Astarion and Fallon on bed, taking a seat about halfway up Fallon’s body. The scar from The Netherese orb remained on his chest, and Fallon reached forward to trace it with her fingers. Gale took her hand in his and kissed her fingertips tenderly and held her hand over his heart for a moment, the soft look in his eyes conveying everything he felt. Astarion had removed his shirt as well and instead of tossing it to the side, he passed it to Gale with a devious look on his face. She looked back and forth between Astarion and Gale, trying to figure out what sinful trap she’d just fallen into.

The soft look on Gale’s face had been replaced with one of desire as he reached for Fallon’s other hand. “Scoot back, and put your arms above your head, sweetheart, since we all know you can’t be trusted to keep your hands to yourself and just enjoy this.” Gale teased, and Fallon’s mouth dropped open as she realized what was happening. Fallon did as she was told, and watched with wide eyes as Gale tied one of the sleeves of Astarion’s shirt to her left wrist, and tied the other sleeve to the nearest post on the bed. Now Fallon understood why he told her to scoot back– it was to close some of the space between where she lay and the edges of the bed. Still, on such a large bed, the fabric of Astarion’s shirt was pulled fairly tight without much give.

“Is that uncomfortable, darling?” Astarion asked lovingly, and Fallon gave an experimental tug. The fabric was soft and Gale had done a good job of not tying the knot around her wrist too tightly, so she shook her head. Once Gale and Astarion were satisfied that Fallon was not uncomfortable, Gale walked around to the other side of the bed, removing his own shirt, and using it to restrain Fallon’s right side, repeating the motions of tying one sleeve around Fallon’s wrist and tying the other to the bedpost, while Astarion unlaced her sandals and removed them from her feet. Once Fallon was secure, Gale returned to his spot on the bed at Fallon’s torso and he propped himself up on his elbow to lay on his side beside her.

“No mage hand?” Fallon teased, sticking her tongue out at Gale, and the sorcerer chuckled. It was one of his favorite spells to use in the bedroom, if her memory served her correctly.

“Not tonight, sweetheart. I would much prefer to use all my concentration on making you forget everything but our names.” Gale had the audacity to wink at her as he teased, and Fallon's eyes blew wide with lust.

Gale reached forward to brush a stray hair from Fallon’s face, dragging his fingers down to her neck and lightly wrapping his hand around it. The pressure was so light that it was barely there, but just the feeling of Gale’s hand there was enough to make Fallon whimper with pleasure and Gale grinned. “You look so beautiful laid out like this, Fallon,” Astarion praised her as he ran his hands over her thighs, spreading her legs apart further as he leaned shifted his position to settle between them on his stomach, and he kissed her inner thighs slowly, avoiding where Fallon desired him to be most. “I’ve been imagining this moment for days.” His nose ghosted over her clit and Fallon let out a noise of protest as he moved away from the sensitive spot.

“Use your words, sweetheart, tell us what you want.” Gale instructed, his thumb stroking the column of her neck gently, applying light pressure to his grasp as he did so.

“For the love of Ao, if one of you doesn’t touch me soon I’m going to go insane.” Fallon demanded, invoking the name of the holy creator in vain desperation.

“That’s more like it.” Astarion cooed. Pleasure shot through Fallon’s body as Astarion’s tongue found her center, lavishing her with languid strokes of his tongue. Fallon arched her back at his touch, tugging on her restraints. She opened her mouth to let out a cry of pleasure, but the sound was muffled by Gale’s mouth on hers again, kissing her fiercely as his hand played with her breasts. Every touch, every kiss, it was all heightened by the fact that there were two people showering her body with attention. Every time her body was finished reacting to something Astarion did between her legs, Gale would roll his thumb over one of her nipples and leave love-bites on her neck and she’d be moaning all over again. Though Fallon had no concept of time in that moment, she was certain that this would be the fastest orgasm she’s ever achieved in her life. “That’s it, darling, let go.” Astarion lifted his head to look at her as he slid two fingers inside of her and kissed her inner thigh, nipping at it softly. When Fallon moaned at the sensation of Astarions teeth scraping her inner thigh, his fingers suddenly slowed significantly inside of her.

“ Astarion ,” Fallon whined impatiently, and Gale looked up from her neck to see what was going on. “ Please .”

“Sorry, love, I was just thinking.” Astarion apologized with a smirk.

“Can you think later? ” Fallon huffed.

Astarion laughed and leaned down to press another kiss to her inner thigh. “Darling, can I bite you?” He kissed her thigh again. “Right here?”

Fallon’s heart rate doubled. “You can do whatever you want as long as you don’t stop .” She demanded, lifting her hips towards Astarion’s face in encouragement.

To her dismay, Astarion laughed again, but at least he kept his fingers moving inside of her as he looked at Gale. “Gale, darling, I’ve got an idea, but I’ll need your assistance.” Fallon looked up at Gale and saw the look of realization dawning on the sorcerer’s face as whatever idea Astarion had clicked in Gale’s mind, and the sorcerer offered the vampire a wicked grin in response.

“You’re a bloody menace, Astarion. A beautiful, bloody menace.” Gale praised with a laugh. So far, the only drawback of this arrangement was that it gave Gale and Astarion this opportunity to work together to torture her in this way. Soon, Gale was moving away from Fallon and she made another noise of protest, tugging at her restraints to try and get him to come back.

Then she realized where Gale was going. He joined Astarion at the foot of the bed. “May I?” He asked Fallon, and she nodded, grateful for Gale’s continued initiative in obtaining her consent after their earlier conversation. She was also grateful for Astarion, who she knew would immediately pivot if Fallon told Gale “no” at any point. Fallon nodded her head, and for a moment, she had two of Astarion’s and two of Gale’s fingers inside of her and Fallon moaned appreciatively at the way they filled her. “Well that’s something we’ll have to explore later.” Astarion mused as he removed his fingers from her sex. Fallon watched with curiosity as Astarion got out of Gale’s way, allowing the sorcerer to take his place between Fallon’s legs. There wasn’t quite enough room for them both to fit comfortably, so how– oh.

Oh .

Fallon watched in stunned silence as Astarion repositioned himself so he was straddling Gale’s back, hovering over the sorcerer with his cock visibly stiff in his pants, and Fallon’s imagination immediately drifted to what this scene would look like if Gale and Astarion were also naked. The idea of Astarion leaning over Gale’s body to kiss her while he fucked Gale, while Gale feasted on her cunt, the three of them all moaning together…Fallon only snapped out of her thoughts when Astarion leaned forward and brushed some of Gale’s hair from his face, tying it back into a half up-half down bun with a rubber band Gale handed him. Astarion then leaned forward and kissed Gale’s cheek. “Go on, love,” Astarion encouraged in a low voice against the sorcerer's ear before gently biting Gale’s earlobe. “You were just saying how you’ve missed the way she tastes. Now’s your chance.” Gale looked at Fallon once more, giving her a beat to change her mind. Little did he know that with how close cumming she currently was, there was absolutely no way she was changing her mind. Not as her mind took the opportunity to remind her that one of Gale’s favorite camp pastimes used to be burying his face between her legs while she tried not to moan so loud she woke up the rest of their companions (her attempts were not successful very often).

When Fallon didn’t protest, Gale moaned slightly as he lowered his mouth to her swollen clit, rolling his tongue over the bud thoroughly for the first time in over two years. Carnal lust took over, and Gale immediately became a feral animal who’d just been offered a proper supper for the first time after only having had scraps from the trash bin: he couldn’t bring himself to savor it after starving for so long. Gale moaned and it vibrated against Fallon’s body, and she wished that she could reach out and grip his head to bring his face as close to her as possible, if only for something to hold on to. Gale certainly didn’t need any encouragement to keep going– for this was not the slow, methodical, draw-out-her-orgasm-so-slow-she-might-burst-into-tears version of Gale that she’d often laid with on a bedroll that was absolutely not big enough for two. This Gale lapped at her clit with his tongue and fucked her with his fingers so thoroughly, curving them inside of her with each thrust inward.

Fallon’s head fell back on the bed as she cried out in pleasure at the attention being returned to her body. When she opened her eyes, she saw Astarion watching the scene before him carefully, his eyes darkened with carnal lust as he watched the way Gale devoured Fallon’s cunt, and the way she reacted to it. Fallon saw Astarion’s hand twitch at his side, like he was considering stuffing it in his pants to touch himself, but he held back. Likely because he knew there would be something better if he could wait a little longer. Astarion reached for Fallon’s leg, and brought it over Gale’s shoulder, the new angle allowing Gale’s fingers to go deliciously deeper inside of her. Fallon moaned again and her legs quaked as the orgasm Astarion previously robbed her of came careening back down the tracks at breakneck speed.

“Astarion, if you’re waiting for–” Fallon started to tease Astarion for taking his time, but the fact that she could still speak only spurned Gale forward and he doubled down on his efforts, eager to leave her breathless. Despite her warning, Astarion still took his time. He held Fallon’s leg up and brought his lips to the inside of her ankle, leaving a tender kiss. He moved next to her calf, then the inside of her knee, slowly working his way to her thigh. He knew Fallon too well– the second he bit her, she was probably going to cum, and Fallon scowled at him when he looked up at her while his lips grazed her skin.

Astarion found the spot on her inner thigh he was looking for, and he bit down. Within seconds of the sharp pain of Astarion’s fangs breaking her skin, Fallon moaned so loudly it echoed off the walls of the tower. Fallon felt her orgasm coat Gale’s fingers, mouth, beard, and the sheets beneath them as she climaxed, strength of it causing her to writhe with pleasure so strongly that Astarion and Gale had to actively use their free arms to hold her in place. Neither of them pulled away until they were certain her high had come to an end, and as Fallon struggled against her restraints try and prop herself up on her elbows (and failing) she looked at Astarion and Gale with a wild look in her eyes, and she was certain she’d never seen either of them look as pleased with themselves as they did in that moment.

Astarion swiped the blood slowly trickling down her leg with his finger, licking it clean as he climbed off of Gale so the other man could sit up. “Did you know you could do that?” Astarion asked curiously with a grin, observing the absolute mess Fallon made on the sheets. It was certainly messier than any orgasm Fallon had had before, with either of the men sitting between her spread legs, and she shook her head. “It’s amazing what happens when the two of you work together. Who knew?” She teased, winking at them.

“I don’t think we’ve properly satisfied her, Astarion. She can still form coherent sentences.” Gale looked at Astarion with a devious grin, his face still coated with her slick, as he reached between Fallon’s legs and brushed his thumb across her over-stimulated clit. Fallon whimpered, her body shaking slightly in response and she tugged fruitlessly at her restraints again.

“So it seems. We should do something about that.” Astarion agreed.

“I want you to fuck me,” Fallon blurted out and their heads snapped back to her, nudging Astarion with her foot so they who she was referring to. Then she looked at Gale. “I want him to fuck me, and I want you to watch.”

“Would you like that, darling?” Astarion asked as he stared at Fallon, his voice almost giddy with anticipation at the idea.

Fallon nodded her head. “I’ve been thinking about it ever since Gale told me he overheard us at the inn in Daggerford.”

Astarion looked at Gale in surprise. “Did you, now?”

Gale swallowed, nodding his head as he reached down to adjust his cock inside of his pants, clearly straining uncomfortably against the fabric. “Truth be told, I’ve also been thinking about it since I overheard you.” He admitted with a breathy laugh.

“Take off your pants, and come sit by me, Gale. Untie me while you’re at it,” Fallon requested, her tone was a little more desperate than she would have liked, but part of her was still remembering how to breathe after the explosive orgasm she’d just had, so all decorum had gone out the window.

Gale did as he was told, untying her first before fidgeting with the laces on his pants and pushing them down to his ankles, kicking them off as he went. His thick cock sprung free and Fallon’s mouth watered . She’d forgotten how nice Gale’s dick was, and she immediately wanted to throw her own plan away and put his dick in her mouth. That was for another day, though. Astarion removed his own pants and climbed up the bed towards Fallon. As soon as Astarion’s dick was within reach, Fallon wrapped her hand around his shaft and began pumping her hand along it dutifully with a satisfied grin on her face at being able to use her hands again. Astarion’s head dropped down onto her shoulder as he shuddered and moaned, at her touch. His mouth temporarily found her neck before reaching her mouth and kissing her passionately.

“On your knees, darling.” Astarion muttered assertively against Fallon’s lips and she moaned softly, fully understanding what her vampire intended to do. Fallon kissed Astarion once more before releasing his cock from her grasp and rolling over onto her stomach. Fallon made direct eye contact with Gale as she positioned herself on her hands and knees, spreading her legs so Astarion could insert himself between them. Gale’s hand was already loosely wrapped around his stiff cock, stroking it idly as he watched the scene before him unfold with wide eyes. Fallon could feel the mattress shifting beneath her as Astarion settled behind her, and soon she felt two fingers slide inside of her, eliciting a moan from both Fallon and Gale.

“Astarion, I need you.” Fallon whined, and she heard the vampire laugh lightly from behind her as he fingered her slowly. Deeply. It felt good, but it wasn’t enough. She needed Astarion to fill her more than she needed air in her lungs.

“I was just making sure you’re prepared, my love.” He teased, and Fallon shook her head.

“I’m always prepared, now please , just fuck me .” Fallon pressed her hips back towards Astarion encouragingly.

Astarion laughed again, but did as he was told and removed his fingers from within her. “She’s a needy little thing, isn’t she? So eager to have a cock deep inside of her.” He mused, addressing Gale, and the sorcerer nodded.

“Yes, I do recall that about her,” Gale agreed, a smug smirk on his face and Fallon pouted. “Give her what she wants, Astarion. She did ask rather nicely.”

Fallon huffed in response and she felt Astarion positioning his cock at her entrance, his head just barely brushing it teasingly. “Show us exactly how you touched yourself when you were eavesdropping, and I’ll show you exactly how I fucked her.”

Gale’s grip on his cock tightened as he began to stroke himself, and all three of them moaned as Astarion finally slid home, pushing himself deep inside of Fallon until he was buried to the hilt. Thankfully, Astarion’s patience had run out, and he didn’t make Fallon wait before beginning to thrust into her with a steady rhythm. Though his broad hands rested on her hips as an anchor, his grip was not so tight that Fallon could not move, and soon she was rocking her hips back and forth, meeting Astarion thrust for thrust so he fucked her even deeper than before. The moans leaving her mouth were endless as Astarion moved inside of her, and though Fallon wanted to close her eyes and just enjoy the pleasure, she forced herself to keep them open so she could watch Gale.

The sorcerer’s eyelids were heavy as he watched the two of them, and Fallon noticed that he was stroking his thick cock in time with Astarions thrusts as the vampire fucked her. Gale’s body had relaxed a bit more as well, his free arm resting lightly on his stomach as he leaned back against the many pillows, his legs spread a little further apart. Just far enough apart that if Astarion and Fallon were a foot closer to Gale, she could easily lean forward and wrap her mouth around Gale’s cock and suck him off while Astarion fucked her. It was certainly an idea, one she had every intention of exploring at a later time, but right now? This was exactly what she wanted.

“Like what you see, sorcerer?” Astarion goaded as he reached forward to wrap his fingers through Fallon’s unbound dark hair and pull her upwards by it to kiss her neck. The delicious new angle had Fallon moaning loudly, and she reached between her legs to caress her aching clit now that her hands were free. Fallon turned her head as far as she could and nudged the side of Astarion’s face with her nose encouraging him to kiss her. Astarion obliged, kissing her fiercely as he began to fuck her harder.

“Gods, you’re beautiful .” Gale moaned as he began pumping his cock faster, and Fallon honestly was not sure if he was referring to her, Astarion, or the both of them together. Either way, Gale’s voice was absolutely wrecked, and when Fallon pulled out of her kiss with Astarion to look at Gale, she could see the pre-cum dribbling down the head of his cock. It was obvious Gale was close, Fallon knew she was close, and if the frantic way his hips were moving was any indication, Astarion was close, too.

Astarion’s hand covered Fallon’s at the apex of her thighs and he pushed her hand away, his deft fingers taking over atop Fallon’s clit where she’d left off, and her body shook as she reached back behind her to card her fingers through Astarion’s curls. He planted a kiss on her shoulder. “That’s it, darling, show Gale how pretty you are when you cum for me.”

Fallon locked eyes with Gale. The sorcerer was biting down on his lip, hard, and the way he whimpered when Fallon looked at him with desperation could only mean one thing: Gale was trying to wait for Fallon to orgasm first, before allowing himself to climax, and his restraint was greatly waning. “ Please .” He managed to choke out, and that was all it took to send Fallon careening over the edge as she came with both Astarion and Gale’s names on her tongue as her body shuddered. Within seconds of the start of Fallon’s peak, Fallon and Astarion were treated to the sight of Gale cumming in his hand so violently that the long ribbons of semen burst from his cock with enough force to land on Gale’s chest, and a few drops even made their way to Gale’s beard. That was enough for Astarion, and the vampire found his own completion with the shout of an expletive, almost as though the intensity of his orgasm took him by surprise.

When they were all spent and panting, it was only then that Fallon eased herself off of Astarion’s cock and crawled up the bed towards Gale. Though she had every intention of licking the spunk right off of his body to clean Gale off, the sorcerer was one step ahead of her and with a wave of his hand, the mess disappeared. Fallon smirked as she settled onto the bed beside Gale, resting her head on the pillow next to him. “Neat trick.” She teased. Gale only chuckled in response before leaning forward to press a kiss to the crown of Fallon’s head and turn on his side to wrap an arm around her.

Astarion followed behind Fallon and took the spot on the other side of her, and a giddy smile spread on her face as the vampire wrapped his arm around her as he kissed her shoulder. “I think it’s safe to say you’ve properly atoned.” Fallon teased them both as she grabbed both of their arms and pulled them closer to her. Gale and Astarion happily obliged, moving inward until there was very little space separating the three of them at all.

“Thank you both for this whole day,” She turned her head towards Astarion and kissed him deeply. “I’m a very lucky woman to be so loved by two wonderful people.” She turned her head to Gale next and kissed him with an equal amount of emotion.

“Please, we’re the lucky ones.” Astarion scoffed.

“I have to agree–not many people would offer us the level of grace and forgiveness you’ve provided us with, despite everything. Though I don’t think I can call you a saint, unless you feel like devoting yourself to Sune, because she might be the only deity that would call what just occurred in this bedroom holy –”

“Hey, I’m not the only person in this bed to blame for that!” Fallon laughed, pouting playfully.

“But if I were ever asked to nominate someone for a holy title, you would be the first person to come to mind. May we never give you a reason to need to extend such grace and forgiveness a second time.” Gale smiled at her sincerely, and Fallon felt a wave of emotion rush through her.

For the first time in two years, laying between her vampire and her sorcerer, she felt completely whole.

Chapter List

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale dekarios #gale #gale of waterdeep #astarion #female tav #bg3 fanfic #gale x tav #astarion x tav #bloodweave #astarion x gale x tav #bg3 fan fiction #bg3 fan fic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 smut #baldur's gate 3 fan fic #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction

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cyb3rscoups · 1 year

Text

Pretty Woman Attoye AU

Watched pretty woman last night and can not believe i forgot how good it is. There will be a part 2 and maybe 3. Enjoy love 🙃

NSFW MDNI 18+

Full Collection

She should’ve worn stockings atleast but sneaking out of her apartment to avoid the landlord had been the only occupying her brain when she escaped down the fire escape. It was 45 degrees, windy, and not the ideal night to try and make her rent. But as always, Okoye had no choice.

“I’m fucking freezing.” She grumbled at Nakia as she shivered in her faux fur, her heeled boots shuffling along the graveled sidewalk.

“You wanted to be out here all late.” Nakia lit a cigarette with a scoff. “Not my problem.”

“But it sure is your fault. Had you not smoked our money away I wouldn’t have be here! We live in California for fuck sake so when has it ever been this cold!”

Nakia sucked her teeth, letting the cig rest between her lips as she picked at her afro. “You know you’re really uptight lately, Ko. Chill the fuck out. You’re hot as fuck and if you got rid of that tired ass dress, you’d make twice the rent in 20 minutes.”

Okoye crossed her arms over her chest, scaling a look down her attire. “Fuck is wrong with my dress?”

“Nothing…if you a 1997 hooker.” Nakia chuckled, picking at the loose fabric of the mini dress; black, lacy, and barely covering anything past her ass. “How long you had this thing huh?”

“Go to hell.” Okoye rolled her eyes and turned back to the street, twirling a strand of hair around her finger as she did.

It was so grimy on the boulevard. Okoye often found herself itching to get past the streets that made up her life. Whenever she tried, there seemed to be an inevitable force that pulled her back and pushed her flat on her ass.

“I mean-“ Okoye cringed at the drunk group of boys that whistled at her as they passed. “Don’t you want to get out of here one day?”

“Here we go..” Nakia took a hit and slumped against a traffic light pole. “Get out of where Okoye!? Where would we go worth anything?!”

The woman huffed as she opened her mouth to speak again but was abruptly cut off by a roaring engine coming to a stop, right where she was standing.

She peered down at the car, pitch black and windows tinted the darkest they could go. Way too expensive a car for the person to live around here.

Tentatively, she walked up to the window, tapping on the glass softly.

It rolled down only half way, revealing a man, looking quite distressed and disheveled. In need of some help she presumed.

“You lost, baby?” Okoye softened her voice as she took her estimate of the man. He wore a suit, his hair back into a ponytail and his cologne seeping out, invading her nostrils. Obviously, he knew how to spend a dime based on the car alone. He was a goldmine.

“Uh- yeah.” The lost one tried his best to keep eye contact with Okoye as her breasts nearly spilled from her bra. “How do I get to Beverly Hills?”

“Oh I can show you. Let the window down some more.” Her red lips parted revealing the smile that seduced and tempted many before him.

“I won’t be doing that. Just point me in the right direction? My phone is dead and this gps is sending me into circles.” He huffed.

Okoye shared a glance with Nakia, who watched the interaction with a smirk on her lips.

“Fine. I’ll show you for five bucks.” She offered.

“No-“

“Price just went up to ten.” Okoye sucked her teeth and the man scoffed.

She leaned her body quite comfortably on the car, running her hand across the roof in awe as she waited his answer.

With a groan and a roll of his eyes, “20 bucks.”

Nakia let out a snicker and Okoye ducked her head to the window again. “For 20, I’ll show you step by step.”

She tugged on the passenger handle and invited herself into the vehicle where her body was enveloped in heat and she let out a soft moan, barely noticeable to the man beside her.

“Here.” He pulled a 20 out of his pocket and Okoye made a show of stuffing it into her bra, adjusting her cleavage extensively.

“Turn right on this corner.”

Okoye reached to rest her hand on the nape of his neck but he flinched away rather harshly. Sensitive much, she thought.

“Look I really just need directions.”

“And I’m giving them to you. Besides, you haven’t paid me nearly enough to really get up to something. Make a left here.”

He was tan, strong features and a hint of stubble growing on his chin. The look of concentration on his face made her gush with arousal. Fuck rent, she’d let him hit for free.

The way he shifted in the chair, squaring his shoulders and adjusting his position at least every 30 seconds. His head grazed the ceiling of the vehicle, roughing up his ponytail just a bit.

“This isn’t your car.” Okoye chuckled at how uncomfortable he seemed in it. His brows furrowed as he glanced at her.

“No. It’s not. It’s a friend’s.”

“You still rich like him though?”

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “You really are all about the money huh?”

“You come from where I do and you gotta be.”

A moment of silence as he recognized the gap between them. Here he was, waltzing out of his own party, pissy about a breakup and she was fighting for her life on the streets, selling her body just to live.

“What’s your name?” He asked curiously, his thighs flexing when she grazed her nails over the one closest to her, teasing.

“What do you want it to be?” She smirked.

“Seriously?”

“Well if you’re not gonna fuck me, I could at least have some fun right?”

He approached a red light, taking the idle state of the car to give her a disbelieving look. Okoye sucked her teeth, removing her hand from his space again.

“Ko-ko.”

“No. Its not.” He squinted his eyes as the light changed.

“How you gonna tell me what my name is?” She grew rather irritated of his arrogance.

“What’s the name on your lease, your fucking taxes? What’s the name your parents called you growing up?”

“Bold of you to assume I have parents anymore.”

Another awkward wedge between them and a tense silence as she told him to turn again.

Okoye chewed on her lip as the neighborhood got nicer and the people walking the streets started to reduce. It never really occurred to her that rich people preferred the daytime. “Okoye. You?”

“Attuma.”

“Where the hell does that come from?”

“Don’t know. I don’t think it fits me anyway.”

The car squealed to a stop in front of the hotel he stayed. Shifting the gear in park with a soft sigh, he looked her over. Her legs were crossed as her foot tapped nervously against the floor.

“You’ll be okay?”

“Mhmm.” She spared him a small smile.

“Catch a taxi back to your place?”

“Well, back to the corner at least. You only gave me 20 bucks after all.” She opened her door, stepping out into the cool air again with a groan.

A bittersweet departure it would be and she would only get away with enough money to catch a ride back to the gutter. She almost felt pitiful.

Attuma stepped out of the car as well, a valet eagerly grabbing the keys from his hands.

“How much do you make a night? On average.” He prompted

“100 an hour..” Okoye shrugged, taking her phone out of her pocket.

Attuma couldn’t believe the wave of sympathy that came over him. God, just look at her. Skimpy thin material barely covering the expanse of her legs, her boots worn down and she was still shivering in her excuse for a coat.

“How much for you to stay the whole night…in the hotel?”

“With you? Yeah right. I think I’ll save myself the humiliation.” She scoffed, turning her attention back to her device. Maybe she could walk.

“We can go through the back?”

“Even worse.” Okoye scoffed, sending a quick text to Nakia and letting her know there will be updates. “400 dollars the whole night. You give me that coat to wear so the fact that I’m a whore won’t be obvious.”

With a nod, Attuma shrugged his coat off, draping it over her shoulders. She slid her arms through and tied it to her waist, snickering at how large it was compared to her.

“You are quite the man, Attuma.”

“You have no idea.”

———

His room, the penthouse, was unlike anything she had seen before. It was clean, there was room to breathe. Most of all it was huge and easily costed more than she could dream.

Attuma watched as she explored every inch of the room, laughing as she insisted on inspecting the corners for rat holes just so she could point out a flaw.

“Champagne?” He held up the bottle of bubbly liquid and a bowl of strawberries.

“Allergic to strawberries, don’t drink on the job.”

“You’re not on the job yet.” Attuma popped the bottle anyway, dumping the bowl of strawberries to the trash. He filled two glasses as she shedded her shoes and coat, just left in her dress hiking up her thighs as she sat on the bed, legs crossed.

“Here.” He handed her a glass. She took it cautiously, inspecting the liquid with a keen eye.

Attuma sipped at his glass and Okoye sat with hers.

“I appreciate this whole seduction thing you got going on but trust me, you put that money right between my tits and I’m a sure thing. What size condom you wear?”

Attuma couldn’t help but laugh as he set his glass down. He tugged at his ponytail, finally letting his hair free to fall where it felt. He loosened his tie and dropped his jacket, not breaking the eye contact with the Okoye.

“How about we talk a little bit more?” He popped the buttons to his sleeves, rolling them up to his forearms.

“When do I get my money?”

“Okoye-“

“Uh Uh. You can’t do that. It ain’t right!” Okoye shot up from the bed, resting her hands to her hips.

“I have to pay you to talk to me before you try to hop on my dick?”

“Yes. You paying for the whole night and trust me Mr. man I meant the whole night. Talking and sappy shit included.”

Okoye held her hand out to him as they stood chest to chest. He smelt so good she could just melt. Attuma scoffed, picking up his jacket and going for his wallet.

He pulled out four crisp hundreds, straight out the bank. Okoye beamed, crumpling the money and stuffing it into the side of her bra.

“What do you want to know?”

“Where are you from?” He leaned forward, taking in her faint vanilla scent.

“Oh for fuck sake.” She rolled her eyes, plopping her ass back onto the bed with a bounce.

“No don’t act like that. I paid you. Talk.”

“Brooklyn.”

“How long in California?”

“Long enough. What do you do to get this rich?” Okoye fired back.

“I’m asking the questions.”

“I have a feeling you do that a lot. Stay in control. You like being in control…daddy?”

“Stop.” Attuma crossed his arms across his chest, his muscles bulging as he flexed them sub consciously

“Why? Is it working?”

“Okoye-“

“Quit saying my name like that!”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m in trouble or something. You say it right or you don’t say it at all!”

Attuma took a breath. Did he have to pick up such a difficult woman. “Alright. I’m sorry. I-I just don’t do this.”

“Take directions from prostitutes and take them back to your hotel for the night.”

“Exactly.”

“There’s a first for everything. Just like this is the first time I actually want to suck a customer off and he won’t let me.”

“You really want to?”

“So badly.”

Attuma made work on his belt and pants, dropping them to his ankles as his hard on peeked past his boxers.

“Well isn’t that just delicious.” She smiled and dropped to her knees, crawling up to him and gripping the length through his boxers.

“I think I hit the jackpot.” She giggled, tugging down on the elastic. “Now, don’t pull too hard on my hair.”

“Got it.”

She made quick work to cover him in her smeared lipstick and saliva as she kissed down his expanse. A moan left her lips as she captured his tip, sucking softly.

Okoye could feel his body tense when she took him deeper, nose nuzzling against his pelvis as she rested there. He hadn’t grabbed her yet, resorting to clenching his fists at his side for the moment.

“Shiiit.” He groaned as she swallowed around him, her hands resting on his thighs to ground herself.

Bobbing her head up and down, she hollowed her cheeks and stroked what she couldn’t reach. Spit dribbling down from her lips and makeup smearing his cock from tip to base.

Sloppy and wet sounds filled the hotel room as Okoye found joy in sucking him to climax

She moan softly around him sending a vibration through his bones and making his knees weak. Finally, Attuma reached for her head, forcing her down until she gagged and sputtered around him. His moan was loud and pornographic. Okoye squeezed her thighs together as another pool of arousal warmed her belly.

Never had she gotten the chance with someone so sexy let alone just as rich. It made her pussy throb with need because if his ability in bed matched his wallet, she was fucked.

“Fuuck…God where do you learn this stuff?” Attuma grunted, his grip on his head tightening with every soft whine that left her lips

Okoye focusing her attention on his tip, red and leaking with precum.

She sucked him hard as her hands covered the rest. His stomach caved in and he braced his hands on the table beside him.

“Holyyy fuuck! You gonna make me cum!” His eyes screwed shut as a vein popped from his neck.

She let him up with a pop and a smile. “Give it to me daddy..” Not a another word before he covered her face in the thick white substance. She stroked him lazily to the end, smearing his seed across her lips for a taste.

He slumped against the table as his chest heaved. Okoye giggled. “Come on, let’s get it up again.”

“No..do not touch me you demon.”

“Don’t tell me you’re tapping out already, Mr. man.” She rose to her feet and pulled her dress off.

“Look, It’s been a while.” Attuma opened his eyes to find spots in his vision.

“How long of a while?” Okoye wrapped her arms around his torso and pressed her self against him. He grunted at the contact, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Years. Alright?”

“No one to do it with?”

“No I’ve been busy.”

The woman sighed, letting him go reluctantly. He tugged his pants back up as he relished in how light he felt.

“Hm.” Okoye pulled her dress back over her body and went to retrieve her shoes.

“You can still stay the night.” He offered, letting himself plop onto the bed.

“So you can leave me horny and empty. No thanks.” She shrugged her coat back on and adjusted her hair.

“Stay Okoye! Do not walk out that door.”

Okoye rolled her eyes. Her mind was telling her to go. Take the money and get the fuck out of here right now. But the bed..had she ever slept on something so comfortable and soft?

“Let me use your tub in the morning.”

“Okay.”

#attuma #attoye #alex livinalli #attoye fanfic #black panther #attuma x okoye #danai gurira #wakanda forever #mcu okoye #okoye x attuma #attoye smut #pretty woman #attoye fluff #ceo attuma #attuma smut #okoye smut

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hinatastinygiant · 1 year

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24 | Pine

Pairing: Bokuto x Fem!Reader

Escapism Masterlist

The morning after you had gone to the club, your head pounds like never before. However, the second your eyes open, you’re unable to go back to sleep.

Instead, you groan and roll over to your side to watch the sun begin to rise from behind the other dorm buildings.

Then, you suddenly remember last night. Seeing Caden. Kissing him. Thinking about what he said.

And Bokuto. Still, hooking up with your ex’s new girlfriend? What the hell is up with that? He made it sound like it was over when you talked to him. But is it? Aimi ended things with Caden, that you know for sure, but did she dump him for Bokuto? Or did they end things too?

You need to talk to him, that much is obvious, even though you really don’t want to. Not about this. How fucking embarrassing.

Nevertheless, you get up from your bed and wash yourself up. And within an hour, you’re leaving your dorm and walking to the parking lot.

When you arrive at Bokuto’s house, you park your car but keep the engine running. Half of your body screams at you to leave as you look toward the house. His grandpa just died. You’re going there to talk about your ex-boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend… Maybe you need to put it all into perspective.

Telling yourself that you’re just going in to check on him, you pull the key out of the ignition and step out of your car. Hesitantly, you ring the doorbell and wait nervously until Bokuto answers the door.

“Hey,” he smiles softly when he sees you. “What’re you doing here?”

“I came to check on you,” you shrug. “Are you feeling alright?”

Bokuto nods as he steps to the side and lets you in. “I guess so,” he answers. “I mean, I kind of always feel like shit now but it’s not too bad so I guess that’s good,” he then elaborates.

“You know if you ever need anything, Ko, you can always call me,” you say as you step closer to him. “When you go quiet I get worried about you.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” he replies as he reaches his arms around your waist and pulls you into a tight hug.

“Don’t apologize,” you answer softly, leaning the side of your head against his chest.

The two of you stand for a moment in each other’s arms. You close your eyes softly and breathe him in, enjoying the time when he’s all yours.

When you pull back and look up at him, a soft smile tugs at his lips. He leans down and kisses you gently, making your whole body feel as though it’s melting.

You kiss him back, arms wrapped around his neck and pulling him ever so close to your lips. Bokuto walks backwards, bringing you further into his home toward the kitchen where you’ve spent many meals beside him.

Bokuto places you so your back hits the kitchen table. You moan softly against his lips, kissing him deeply as his hands make their way to the waistband of your pants.

After that, you feel as though a tornado accidentally mistook you for Dorothy and placed you back down with your clothes thrown all over the floor.

“Y/N,” he calls out to you, his voice low and deep with lust. He smiles down at you when you blink and find yourself back to reality and kisses you again.

“Yes?” you reply as you grab onto his strong arms caging you between him and the table.

“Turn around,” he tells you just before taking matters into his own hands. He pushes you face-first against the cold table and slides his hands down to your ass. “I’m so fucking glad you came over here.”

“Ko!” you gasp as two of his fingers trail between your folds just before pushing into you.

“What’s wrong?” he hums smugly. “Do you want me to stop? You’re so wet already.”

“No,” you huff, feeling as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. “I’m glad I came over, too.”

“You are?” he breathes. “Then beg me.”

“Beg you? You’re the one who-“ you start just as he pulls his fingers out of you.

“Hm?” he continues. “Did you want me to keep going?”

“Shit, Ko, you’re such a fucking tease,” you scoff.

Bokuto replies first with action rather than words. His hand comes down hard against your ass. Once. And then twice. Causing you to gasp at the sudden pain. Your whole body shakes. You weren’t expecting it.

“What were you saying, love?” he hums as you hear the unzipping of his pants. “Did you want me to stop?”

“No,” you shake your head as you try to steady your breathing. “Keep going. I want you right now.”

“Hm,” he replies as he digs his fingers into the flesh on your ass.

“Don’t you remember how well I took it last time? You said so yourself. Touch me, Ko. You can be rough,” you continue breathlessly.

“Shit,” he chuckles as he pulls one of his hands away from your ass and slaps it back down hard. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

“Show me,” you answer as you push your ass back against him. “Fuck me, Ko. I need you inside of me.”

Bokuto hums aloud as he repositions you, finally setting you up for what you were begging for. You can hear the sound of latex being rolled down his length, making you even more impatient for what’s to come.

And when he is ready, he lines himself up and slides in rather quickly. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, but continue to moan and push against him as he bottoms out.

“You feel so fucking good,” he says as his pace picks up. He’s got a firm grip on your hips, starting to thrust repetitively, without fail, until you can feel your legs weaken.

“Fuck,” you moan, feeling him hit at such a sweet spot each time he pushes in.

Your jaw hangs down, your mouth running dry. You always knew Bokuto would be good, but shit, one of these days he might literally break your back.

You uselessly try to grip onto the table beneath you, digging your nails into the wood as he has you shaking beneath him. He’s fucking you at an unbelievable rate. You’re not even sure any of this is real anymore. Half your mind screams at you to get him to slow down in fear that you might genuinely break. While the other half relishes in the pleasure he gives you.

Bokuto tells you something as he smacks down hard on your ass again, but you’re too fucked out to even hear what he’s saying. Your eyes start to water. Even more so when he leans over and starts rubbing circles on your clit. How your legs haven’t given out, you have no idea.

Drool runs down the side of your parted lips as you feel your whole body relax and your orgasm shake you to your core. You tilt your head back, suck in a deep breath, and softly moan out his name while the pleasure washed over you.

After Bokuto finishes the same, he carefully pulls out. The way his fingers linger on your ass, keeping your cheeks spread apart, you can tell he’s admiring the mess you’ve left behind.

When he finally pulls away, he gives you some space and passes you a towel to clean up. You quietly thank him and do so before fixing your clothes and clearing your throat.

“Well I’m glad you’re feeling a bit better,” you smile as he places his hands on your hips.

“You sure that’s all you wanted?” he asks softly.

“Yep,” you nod. “I’ve got to start studying anyway, but this was a good distraction for a bit,” you lie.

“Really? I thought you said school was easy?” he hums, not entirely buying what you’ve said.

“It is, but that doesn’t mean I can’t study,” you answer, thinking fast on your toes. “I’ll see you ‘round. Okay?”

“Okay,” he nods, walking you to his front door. “See ya.”

As you walk out and shut the door behind you, a deep sigh leaves your lips. You shake your head and walk off. That was certainly not what you intended to talk about. But how the hell could you bring it up after that?

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adventures-of-the-creeping-bam · 2 months

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NEVER SPLIT THE PARTY: THE ADVENTURES OF THE CREEPING BAM, BOOK FOUR: THE HUNT - CHAPTER 29

If you’re new to the story, please go check out Book 1 first …

Boof 4 Chapter 1 is here …

IMPORTANT: Please note this story includes content that may be considered mature, such as moderate battle violence, some strong language and occasional mild sexual scenes.

If you want to support my writing, feel free to swing by my Patreon or Ko-fi.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: SHAYLINE

When Thel shoves Darwyn into my arms I almost just fall back on my arse, she takes me so much by surprise, but I rally myself quick enough to grab hold of her and plant her on her feet as I watch the dwarf start her clumsy run around the corner. Honestly, I can’t quite believe what I’m watching, but quickly enough the halfling starting to squirm in my grip brings my attention to bear and I remember what she just said. I give her a squeeze now, hissing in her ear as I try my best not to just crush her. “Darwyn, chill! Just wait!”

I’m almost surprised again when she actually does it, going slack in my arms as I shift my weight back onto my knees so I can be ready to spring forward again soon as it’s safe. Just as I hear the first arrow strike Thel and she stumbles, but doesn’t go down, instead just fighting to right herself as she keeps going, before another one hits her and it’s clear enough she’s taking all the fire now. So I just shove Darwyn behind me now and dive forward, scrabbling almost on hands and knees to reach Zuldrad’s prone form and expecting with every inch to get an arrow between my ribs for my troubles after all.

Nothing hits me before I reach him, so I just grab hold of his nearest arm and start dragging him. He starts to squirm almost immediately, letting out a winded but hearty enough scream that’s surprisingly high-pitched to let me know he’s still with us. I don’t stop, instead doubling my efforts as I grab hold of his shoulder with my other hand, not really registering how warmly wet it is until he cries out again. I just dig my fingers into the leather of his pauldron and start tugging, pulling him out of the line of fire now as I see Darwyn dropping to her knees in front of us. Looking more stricken than ever now as she takes in his wretched state.

He's bleeding like a stuck pig, his armour slick wet with blood that makes the leather even more black, and it’s clear enough that whoever shot him was paying close attention and aiming with an expert eye to be able to get around the scattering of plate steel in his gear. As Darwyn starts to cry harder again I probe at the wounds, seeing his shoulder’s good and torn under the armour much like when Art got hit the other night, while the other three are … oh fuck, these are serious wounds. No wonder what little breath he’s getting in is so ragged and wet sounding, both of these are in his lungs, and the other one, lower down in his back … gods, that is his liver …

Before I can say anything to Darwyn, even though I don’t have the first clue what to say as I realise her friend’s probably going to die from these wounds, something barrels hard round the corner to smash into the wall next to us. Something big, I realise now, impossibly big, as big as Driver 8, in fact. Certainly so massive that the wall, which was already subtly dented with broken, spiderwebbed cracks through the pale plaster from what must have been the termination of Lady Naru’s blast, completely craters under the impact. I grab hold of Darwyn as broken shards of plaster and stone rain down around us, along with a thin haze of billowing dust, and just bear her down against the floor again.

Whatever it is grunts loud as it flounders, and when I chance a look my blood runs cold as I realise I’ve seen this before – I remember the armoured ogre from the other night, but it’s no less terrifying now, and right now it’s the worst thing we could possibly have run into. I almost grab firmer hold of Darwyn and start to drag her away, hoping it’s busy enough with extracting itself from the broken stone of the wall it won’t notice us, but remembering Zuldrad stops me. He’s not dead yet, I still have a responsibility for him …

Then the ogre rolls back and lands on its backside heavily enough to shake the whole place, and when it sits up I swear it’s looking right at me with bright eyes that seem far too intelligent. For a moment it just blinks back at me, seeming more surprised than we are as it just takes us both in … then its eyes narrow and it lowers its helmed head as it bares its oversized teeth and starts to growl. Still a genuine threat then.

Certainly I feel in very real danger, particularly once I realise I don’t currently have a weapon in hand while I’m here on my knees, very much at this beast’s mercy right now. Sure, I could grab Darwyn and just run, but that would mean leaving Zuldrad, and I just can’t do it, even if I have a feeling he would probably prefer If I saved his friend instead of him. Which means staying where I am, and fighting. My eyes flicker to my stolen sword, dumped without ceremony a few feet out of reach without stretching, and right now I know that …

When I look up I see the ogre’s followed my gaze, now very much aware of what I’ve been thinking, and I know now my time’s run out. My heart starts to pound harder in my chest than it has all night, even when we were running through the theatre, and I can feel the cold, charged surge of adrenaline pumping through me now, ready to give me a burst of speed. Should I choose to lunge for the sword to defend us both as I’m seriously considering, even though I know it would be of no use at all against this enemy. If this thing charges we’re both flattened.

Then it starts to shift and I stop really thinking now, instead shoving Darwyn down with one hand while I stretch to scrape the sword up with the other … just as I feel tiny clawed hands and feet scramble up and over my arched back, something small but agile and very quick using my shoulders as a launching platform, only letting a feral little snarl go as they leap. When I look up again I see Brung spring at the ogre, which actually reels back as its eyes widen, mostly just surprise but it’s still sudden enough to take a little of the fight out of it, at least for a moment. Which is all he needs as he plucks the knife from his teeth and lands on its face, grabbing hold of the helmet and starting to slash away at whatever it can that’s exposed. The attack lasts for bare seconds before the beast recovers enough wits to whip its gigantic hand across its face, and he’s brushed away, turning over as he tumbles to barely land on all fours.

The ogre looks really pissed when it raises that hand again and tenses its arm to bring it down on him in a great, crushing smash, but in the same moment I hear something behind me … or perhaps I feel it, or more accurately both, knowing Lady Naru’s close behind me now without needing to look. Speaking an incantation as something bright is hurled at our would-be attacker, a bundle of something wild and chaotic, a fizzing, dancing blur of rainbow light and sparks that seems to burst apart at the ogre’s feet before flaring upwards. Suddenly the air’s filled with a great hissing, humming whistle that seems to fluctuate as the sparks start to dance upwards, while the rainbow light stretches and weaves up and around the startled beast in bright, twisting tendrils. The noise builds into a harsh buzz which starts to hurt my ears, then there’s a final flare while the air seems to pop …

Altogether it’s so bright and loud I reel back, I can’t help it, dropping the sword again as I cover my face with my arms, but when I chance a look again, blinking the after-image out of my eyes, all I see is an absence. The ogre’s nowhere to be seen, all there is left is a few scattered sparks that seem to pop and fizz out of existence low in the air where it was.

Once again, when I turn to look at her Lady Naru’s having to lean against her staff for support, although this time she doesn’t look anywhere near as worn as she did when she blasted the corridor behind us. She’s still left breathing heavily, but the fit seems to pass quickly enough, and she manages a slightly wan smile.

“Bloody hell …” I get myself up onto both knees again as I look her over, knowing I’m probably regarding her with something like awe right now. “Now what did you do?”

Frowning a little, the sorcerer considers for a moment. “Honestly, I’m not entirely sure. I just … well, I shunted them somewhere else. I didn’t really have enough time to focus on a specific destination, so I really can’t bank on where they’ll land. Somewhere high, that was about all I could really manage. It’s possible they might hit the ground with a significant amount of force.”

My eyes go a little wider at that, and I’m a beat finding words to reply, but when I do I know I’m smiling a little, although I don’t really know how it’ll actually read. “That was … you know you can be bloody scary sometimes.”

Letting out a heavy sigh, she pushes herself more upright again, looking past me to Zuldrad as the last of her good humour leaks away. There’s worry, but a regret too, and perhaps something a little darker. “Oh … damn it … Shay, I can’t mend that. He needs a proper healer. We have to do something now.”

“We do, yeah.” I turn to look him over myself, as Darwyn just doubles over him, laying her head against his shoulder now while he seems to be breathing shallower still. I can see so much of his blood soaking into the carpet right now … “We have to get to that fucking door. If we get it open Krakka’s right on the other side. He can fix this. And we’ll have all the reinforcements we’d need.” I turn back to Lady Naru. “Can you get it open? I mean we don’t actually know what’s wrong with it –”

“It depends what Tavarrat’s actually done. It could be as simple as removing an enchantment, or it could be horribly complex, I might need to work at it for a while. There’s just no way to know until I arrive.”

“Well if we are gonna do something, we better do it now.” Hearing Thel’s voice now, after seeing her charge around the corner, makes me look up, wondering what she’s doing back, and I find her stood just inside the cover of the wall now, Brung stood beside her. Inspecting the knife in his clawed hand, the blade of which is, I notice, conspicuously clean of blood. Not that I would have expected him to have actually been able to cut the ogre’s stone-hard skin.

She’s in one piece, at least, and I don’t see any arrows stuck in her, although I see a few more conspicuously bright nicks and scratches marking the plates of her armour. Bearing the brunt of the archer’s shots, I suspect. It wouldn’t surprise me if it was that halfling I remember from the Heath, one of Mallys’ mercenaries. Certainly given the presence of that fucking ogre …

Getting to my feet now, I step up to the corner myself, looking her over for a moment before taking a deep breath and glancing out into the open beyond. Wondering what could possibly convince her to turn back right now, even after that great hulking beast was removed from the mix.

There are several more figures stood at the far end of the passage than I would have expected, especially after Lady Naru took so many out in one fell swoop with that crazy spell of hers. But this group … they’re a more eclectic mix, and I recognise many of them, too.

That diminutive archer’s there, just as I expected, but I see the imori too, stood out in the open like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Waiting with his lethal sabre and dagger already drawn in anticipation of an attack. I catch sight of that hedge wizard too, the one from the Heath, stood near the front with his staff tilted towards us, and while he still looks like a stiff breeze could knock him down I’ve learned not to judge with mages by their appearance.

Vandryss is there too, Tavarrat at her side, both skulking at the back with that young half-orc I fought the other night while Kesla crossed swords with Mallys for the first time. I don’t know if he recognises me from there, but I lean out long enough for them to at least register me before I pull back.

It’s the one in front that makes me pause for longer than I intended, just long enough for the halfling to draw her bow again as she crouches off to the side, preparing to take aim on me and finally making me slip out of sight again. I don’t recognise that one, but it doesn’t take much imagination for me to work out who he is. Part of it’s just going off what I learned from Kesla in description after she met him, but to be honest it couldn’t really be anyone else.

Orric Jammund is, to be honest, exactly as I expected him to be. He’s as world-worn as all the other former pirates I’ve run into, both tonight and this afternoon at the Late Bone, but he still wears it so much better. There’s something larger-than-life about the way he just stands there, hand casually laid on the hilt of his still-sheathed sabre, almost slouching as he cocks his head to the side, that suggests he doesn’t have any more care in the world than the imori shadowing him. Like what’s happening right now is just inconveniencing him. To my eye … honestly, there’s nothing about him that looks like an overt threat, and yet somehow, every inch of him still feels like one.

Before I pull back I mark one more thing, too. Remembering the layout of this lowest of the underground floors here in the cellar, I know that to get where I need to go, I have to get through them. The passage turning off at the end of this one branches off at its end in two opposite directions, one of which leads to the tunnels entrance. But directly behind them now, there’s the room we should find Gael in, and likely her father too, at least according to that woman, Sal. They’re so close now … just realising this now almost makes me charge out into the open without further thought. Except it’s clear enough that would be very bad …

“Shit …” I hiss under my breath and I lean back against the wall, letting my head drop back.

Lady Naru’s watching me, concerned now. “What is it –”

“Hello there?” The voice is gruffer than I would’ve imagined, but then I suppose a lifetime of salt-air and shouting orders on a rolling deck would probably do some damage. More than that, there’s something about it … I don’t know why, but just hearing it makes the fine hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stand up. Like the air just before a particularly powerful storm, out in the high places in the Reaches. “Can I have a word?”

My eyes meet the sorcerer’s now, and she just frowns deeper, looking past me to the corner. Wary now, which can’t be a good sign. I take a deep breath through my nose and shift as close as I can to the edge without exposing myself, then clear my throat. “Not unless the little one puts down that bow, I’m afraid. And the hedge can fuck off, too.”

“No, I don’t reckon that’ll do, luv. Well, s’pose we can hear each other well enough from here. Where’s the big one? I would’ve expected her to be leading the charge.”

Gritting my teeth, I bite back my retort and just press on. “What do you want, Jammund? If you knew what was good for you you’d just surrender now, it’ll save you a lot of grief.”

“Really? You sure ‘bout that, luv? Far as we can tell you’re more’n a few short for that. The rest o’ you are still conspicuously stuck out in the tunnels. I’d be real interested to see what you got planned makes you so confident all of a sudden.”

Hissing a curse under my breath, I turn back to Lady Naru and beckon her over. She comes quickly, leaning in close so I can whisper low. “Can you do that thing you did before again? The way you cleared this corridor, I mean.”

Looking into space for a moment, her eyes seem to go glassy before she blinks again and then shakes her head. “No, not with those mages there. If it was just the hedge wizard I might have caught them unaware like the others, but I hazard a guess that’s Tavarrat in the back. She would make that … too difficult, I should think.”

Fighting the growl that wants to come now, I still grit my teeth as I instead wonder: “What about Big Man? Any chance you could summon him in here? You know, like a reversal of what you did with the ogre?”

“I’m sorry, Shay, but it doesn’t work like that. I just banished them, it’s not really a spell built for a great amount of nuance. And even if I could there’s nowhere near enough room in here for that to –"

“Tell you what, luv.” Jammund runs right over her now. “I’ll give you … let’s see, how ‘bout we say another … minute to pull back, send word to yours out there that they’re to do the same so you can all just fuck off right now, an’ maybe your pointy-eared friend’ll live to see another sunrise after all. Way things’re going right now their time’s getting real short.”

I barely manage to keep from snapping a hasty insult back, and my fingers still audibly tighten all on their own around the hilt of the sword as it is. I shoot a look at Lady Naru’s staff, then to Brung and Thel each, trusting her to work out what I mean, then turn back before bothering to watch her reaction. “Yeah, you know what, Jammund? That won’t do either. Right now you not doing that’s the only thing keeping me from cutting you to pieces the moment I reach you. If you were to tempt fate any more I’d have to get nasty. How long did you say? A minute? That’ll be less than that now for you to make a decision on the matter, I should think.”

Lady Naru hisses low, no real word, just showing her regard to this, but she still leans in close to start whispering to Thel. Meanwhile I start to pull back from the corner, taking a breath as I move towards Darwyn, still slumped beside the stricken hobgoblin. Setting my stolen weapon aside, I drop to my knee beside her.

“Listen here, I don’t reckon you’re hearin’ me, girl. You can’t win this, you ain’t got the numbers, an’ you definitely ain’t got enough magic, not with just one mage, we got you outclassed there. All you’re doing is wasting your time, and your friend’s time too. You’re getting ‘em killed. Just go. Now. While you still can.”

Trying not to let him fray my nerves, I just grit my teeth and reach out, laying my hand against Darwyn’s back, high up, slowly moving my fingers to start massaging the nape of her neck, gentle as I can be. Keeping my voice soft, whispering low to her alone. “Darwyn? Please, I need you to buck up and get your shit together. We need you. Right now.”

For a long moment she doesn’t respond, quiet and still enough I start to worry that she might have been fundamentally broken by this, her friend’s time is ticking away so quickly now, his chances so slim they’re almost non-existent. I feel so cold and cruel and fucking heartless just having to ask this right now, but I have no choice, we need her. Just like Jammund said, we don’t have the numbers, and if she is broken then we have one less.

Then she finally stirs, stiffening a little under my hand while she slowly raises her head. She doesn’t turn to face me, in the end she just gives me a bare glance through the corner of her eyes, the slimmest of eye contact. Her hair hangs around her face, I can barely see the state of it now, but it’s clear enough to me how fraught she is now, barely a shell of herself. “Leave me alone.” She breathes the words so low I almost miss them.

“Gods damn it … Darwyn, I’m sorry, but I can’t. I mean it, we need you now –”

Turning fast, she smacks my hand away as she rounds on me, and suddenly her grief is changing into anger, she’s almost fiery with rage now as she confronts me. “Fuck you!” She still only hisses the words, somehow managing to exert enough control on herself to keep from raising her voice, but there’s so much force in her speech even so. “Fuck you for this, I can’t do this now, I gotta help him. I can’t leave my friend, look at this, look what they done to him, I gotta stay with him –”

My hand moves without me really thinking about it first, it flies almost on its own as I slap her with a restrained back-hander that nonetheless still makes her stumble as she reels back and almost falls. Not stunned, she’s just shocked by what I’ve done, as much as I am and I’m sure it’s writ large across my face. But I don’t go back on it now, clenching my teeth as I suck a fresh breath in and trying to close my face off. “Stop it. I mean it, we don’t have time for this. Gael hasn’t got time, if we don’t move now they’re going to kill them.” I reach out again, grabbing her shoulder and dragging her close, and she doesn’t resist me, likely still too startled to fight back. So I press my advantage. “Fucking listen to me, if you want Zul to survive this you’re going to help us. His only hope is on the other side of that door, at the end of this bloody maze, Krakka’s out there and he needs us to open the way for him. Do you understand me?”

Slowly, as her eyes start to fill with tears again, she reaches up to her face, pressing her fingers to her jaw and cheek which are already red from my strike. Part of me is desperate to apologise to her for it, but I bite it off, just hoping I’ve gotten through to her. Finally she blinks, and while the gathered tears run she doesn’t break down this time, instead standing up straight while her face starts to harden. Even so, her voice still wobbles, a little cracked. “I’m … I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m with you. I just …”

My eyes flicker to Zuldrad for a moment, still crumpled on the floor close by, his breath slow and faint and rasping, his face so pale. There’s very little time left to him, now. I really hope I’m right, that there still is some tiny hope for him, as much for her sake now as for him. “I promise … I promise you, this is his best chance. Are you ready?”

Sniffing hard, she wipes her face as clean as she can with the heel of her glove, which is still bloody enough it smears fresh gore onto her cheeks while blotting the tears. But her expression is a lot harder now, more determined, the anger returning to her now. She slips both of her longest knives free from their scabbards and takes a deep breath, which only hitches a little. “Yeah. I am fucking ready. I wanna kill something.”

Letting a more relieved sigh go, I reach over to drag the sword back up from the floor, then as I’m looking at it I consider for a moment before starting to scan our immediate surroundings, hoping maybe I can find something a little more suitable for me here. Maybe one of the unfortunate bastards here had a blade I can put to better use than this heavy, unwieldy thing. But even as I start looking I realise it’s a long shot, there are smaller swords here but nothing that looks remotely worth my time. Most of the steel here’s workmanlike at best, and I just don’t trust it. Looks like I’m stuck with this thing for now.

As I get to my feet again I give Lady Naru a look, and find she’s already starting to weave a sigil, which looks like another complicated one. She doesn’t look too happy about it, but she still holds her tongue as she meets my gaze, instead tightening her grip on her staff with her other hand and turning to look where we have to go. Steeling herself now.

Thel’s just breathing heavy, her heavily armoured shoulders rising and falling in a particularly intimidating fashion with each pull and push, while her brow is tightly knitted and her face dark as she watches the sorcerer. Gripping her axe tight in her hands, held low and ready for violence. Ready to charge.

Brung looks up at me now, cocking his head somewhat like a small dog would, and while I still can’t read his expression at all, the gesture feels like a query. Breathing out slow, I just give him a little nod, and I think he reads it right as he turns to step up beside the dwarf, drawing his shortsword again in anticipation.

Jammund’s voice comes again from out of sight: “You still there? I mean I know you are. You really ain’t thinking it through, are you? You ain’t got a dog’s chance in this fight, luv. This ain’t gonna go right for you at all.” He sighs loud enough for me to catch, but I doubt there’s any more sincerity in it than any of the feigned regret he’s putting on. “Last chance, girl. Count o’ ten. Nine. Eight. Seven –”

“Now …” I barely breathe it to Lady Naru, but she responds instantly, muttering an incantation which makes the sigil flare warm yellow, then split in two, seeming to float in front of her as she now immediately pushes out into the open. Already raising her staff, which seems to gleam for just a blink, like there’s a sparking light that rides up its length from the butt to its very tip in the space of a blink, and when the top starts to glow I know it wasn’t any kind of trick of the light. She raises it in both hands, already aiming it as she steps out, and I just follow right behind as I break into a tight, crouching charge at her side.

The first thing I hear as we emerge is the shunting twang of the loosening bowstring, but I’m already starting to wind up my first swing, so as the halfling’s arrow streaks towards me I’m sharp enough to cut it in two in mid-air before it can do any harm. Then Sulin unleashes whatever the spell is she’s built up in her staff and for a moment I’m blinded, the ensuing flash is so bright it’s a miracle I don’t stumble on the spot in sheer disorientation. Instead I just soldier on, continuing to charge in the same direction I’ve been heading, hoping I don’t blunder into her or the nearest wall as I work on blinking my eyes clear again.

My eyesight clears within bare moments, the bright blur shifting enough I can at least make out a vague picture of what’s going on, and I can see more than a few of the people ahead of us are stumbling back, seemingly even more blinded and disoriented than I was. As if she somehow managed to shield me at the last as she cast the spell, although I don’t have the first clue how. The imori seems the most stricken, all but doubled over while he grips his head with his offhand, hissing and snarling in clear pain, but I see Jammund’s taken a strong hit too. And he was always where I planned on aiming anyway …

Then Thel slips around me and sprints forward, already starting to roar a fierce battle-cry which I’m not sure is really wise if she plans on taking advantage of them being momentarily blinded. On the other side, just through the corner of my eye, I catch sight of Brung bounding up on the other side, managing to keep pace with her as he uses his free hand too to propel him along faster … then the sorcerer stops for a single beat, dropping out of sight now as I keep going, but the two hovering sigils both suddenly streak out ahead of her. Heading straight for both of them.

Yeah … granted, this was technically my plan, but now I’m very much realising that not actually discussing it means I have no idea what she’s actually doing here. So when the floating bundles of strange glowing yellow lines, squiggles and dots inexplicably drop down to whip under their feet, I’m a little startled when their next steps see them both suddenly fall into them. Almost as if the split spell just opened gaping holes in the floor, and they both just vanish from sight.

This time I really do falter on the spot, seeing that is just too much for me in the moment, and as I stumble to a halt I blink again as I start to cast about for where they’ve gone. Just as two more of these strange glowing “holes” appear in the air on the far side of the group ahead, and they both immediately drop through. Ah, yeah … okay, I understand it now. That‘s actually bloody brilliant. For a moment I almost expect them to start cutting into the momentarily disoriented figures around them, but instead they just keep on running, quickly turning the corner at the bottom of the passage and vanishing from sight. Already heading for the tunnel entrance.

Then Jammund blinks a few more times, wiping his eyes with thumb and forefinger, and finally squints a little as he starts to focus again … and his eyes find me much quicker than I would have expected. His already well-furrowed brows crease further as they look me up and down, then he cocks one of them as one corner of his mouth starts to tick upwards. He takes a step forward now, reaching across and drawing his sword in an almost languid motion, like he wants to take his time with this, and his smile starts to grow.

You’d be that half-orc, I take it? It’s interesting, Van could’ve sworn she killed you already, there was some doubt whether or not you were the same one. But seeing you now, reckon it’s a lot easier to believe.”

Through the corner of my eye, I see Lady Naru step up to the imori and, with a deft spin of her staff, comes very close to knocking him to the floor. He’s barely with it enough after his own brief blinding to duck aside, baring a mouthful of particularly scary teeth at her with a low hiss as he dances back, but he’s watching her with cold wariness now. Regarding her as a proper threat now, but not attacking yet, his eyes instead flickering to Jammund, like he’s checking to see what he does first. The sorcerer gives the stave a more showy flourish before tapping it to the floor beside her, drawing herself up to her full height to the side between me and the pirate, and gives him a cool look. He returns it, still looking surprisingly unfazed.

“You’re an interesting one too, I don’t mind saying. Real easy on the eyes.” He sneers at her for a moment, before turning back to me. “Truth be told, though, I’m more interested in this one. I’m curious to see how well she dances.”

“What makes you think I’d give you the chance?” the sorcerer hisses now, her striking eyes narrowing as her lips draw tight. “Despite what you might suppose, you are the one who’s outclassed.”

“No, you need to go.” I growl, watching Jammund now as he ignores her, still focused on me as he takes a half-step back into a very strong ready-guard. It’s enough to make me follow suit too, since I intended to do this anyway. “Get that door open, let the others in. Go fast.”

There’s a moment I think she might argue, but in the end she just steps back, taking her staff up in both hands while giving me a dark sidelong glare. “Damn it …”

“I’ll stay with you.” Darwyn’s tensed low on my other side, looking up at Jammund with both her knives cocked and ready. She looks close to furious right now, enough that diminutive as she is she still looks like a genuine threat in her own right. “Help you cut this puffed up pirate down to size.”

“No, you go with her.” I turn back to Jammund. “He’s mine. Besides, I’m going for Gael.”

His brow quirks a little higher at that, his head tilting a little as he looks me over with a more critical eye now. “You got no chance o’ getting past, luv. Just me or the lot of us, we’ll cut you all down before you get halfway.”

“Yeah, good luck with that.” I shoot Lady Naru a quick sidelong look and hiss: “Go!”

As Jammund blinks, starting to frown a little, Lady Naru just lunges past me as she ducks down and grabs hold of Darwyn’s wrist. Now he starts to twig, and as his eyes narrow while he lunges forward she just speaks that strange soundless sensory word while the halfling doesn’t even have a chance to try and struggle, barely even managing to squeak: “Wait –” before they’re both gone.

I don’t even bother trying to follow where they’re going to now as I just take advantage of the old pirate’s momentary distraction as his intended target just vanishes right in front of him in that strange gaping half-glimpsed emptiness, the tiny prowler along with her. I lunge forward and whip the sword around low, hoping to get under his arm on the left, thinking I might be able to cut him open under the ribs and maybe end the fight before it’s had a chance to start.

Except he darts aside just as suddenly as I’m coming for him, and while he’s clumsy about it, caught out and almost throwing himself away from my blade, his footwork is smooth enough he almost makes it look effortless enough it could have fooled a lesser fighter. I have to plant my feet and draw back into a wary guard in order to keep from overbalancing myself, but at least he’s in no position to take advantage of me in turn, instead taking two more large steps back, bringing him close to the wall now as he regards me with a much more cautious eye.

Now I hear more commotion further down the corridor, almost enough to make me shift my attention that way just long enough to check what’s happening, but I know well enough that it’s the rest of them trying to muster as Lady Naru comes out on the other side. I manage to catch a rather harried oath of: “For fuck’s sake, hold on!” from Darwyn, then a deafening crack as there’s a less bright flash from that direction, followed by the sound of at least a couple of stumbling bodies, and more swearing.

I just hold my ground, my eyes still locked on Jammund as I take a wary step back and to the side again, uncomfortably aware now that I’m the only one still here on this side of their group. Knowing full well that if I have miscalculated this I could well be overwhelmed in a matter of moments.

Thankfully he’s taking a chance as he shoots a sidelong glance to check on the unfolding scene, which gives me enough confidence to do the same. Beyond him I catch sight of a smouldering, smoking crater in the middle of the passage, where the hedge wizard is starting to push himself up while the halfling looks ready to spit as she inspects her now smashed and ruined bow. The imori’s just focusing on me though, carefully edging his way around Jammund’s side now as he holds his sword low and seems to be looking for an opportunity for his own attack. Damn it … that’s not what I was hoping for …

“Fucking bitch … oh for … ORRIC!!!” The frustration is sharp in Vandryss’ voice, her thick Tektehran accent giving it a particularly harsh edge, and while I can’t really see her through the haze of the smoke from the spell’s aftermath I’m sure she’s glaring daggers right now. “Just end this shit! It’s time!”

His eyes narrow as he growls something low and angry under his breath I can’t make out, but he’s focusing on me again. “Oh for … just go! I’ll hold this one here, I need you both to go! Follow the plan, like we discussed!”

“What?” This time it’s Tavarrat who speaks up, and I can hear a subtle edge of desperation in her voice. “No, we can’t … I’m not leaving you! Don’t be stupid Orric, just –”

“I fuckin’ mean it, Luthan! Leave now!”

“Shit!” I actually hear Vandryss spit, she does it with such ferocity, then she starts barking orders at the mercenaries around her with genuine fury. “You lot! Fucking get after them! Right now, just do the job you were bloody hired for! Stop them now, preferably permanently, like you’re supposed to!”

For a moment the hedge wizard and halfling just look at each other, then back at her, like they don’t understand the order, then he hefts his staff and reaches out with his free hand, offering it to her. She looks at it for a long beat, and I know immediately what that’s about, making it instantly clear that she feels the same about porting as I do. Then she shakes her head and takes hold, although she’s wincing as she does it … then he speaks his incantation and they’re both gone. Leaving the imori, who’s looking back now, seeming to be wondering about his own role as he then turns back to me, baring his teeth as he must consider staying after all.

Beyond I can see the rest of them, the haze finally thinning enough again, catching sight of Tavarrat already making for the door behind them, reaching for the lock while Vandryss grabs hold of the half-orc before he can follow my friends. Instead she drags him after as the warlock unlocks the door and stares out towards Jammund with a pining look for a beat while the other two enter before ducking through herself.

“Master Ixen, if you would, reckon your mates’d appreciate your company.” Jammund hisses now, still maintaining eye contact with me.

“What?” His face isn’t the only thing about him that seems more snakelike than anything else, his voice more of a rasping hiss than true speech, while his accent’s the thickest Abharetian I’ve ever heard. “No, I’m here to fight, and this one here will give me –”

“I have this.” There’s a cool warning to Jammund’s tone now as he lets more of a growl enter his voice. “You heard my colleague, go do your job. Y’already took the money, go and fucking earn it. Before they let the rest of ‘em in here and complicate matters.”

The way the imori looks at me now makes it abundantly clear he wants so badly to ignore him and just come at me, and I find myself tensing in anticipation as a fresh tingle of bitter adrenaline starts coursing through me. I wonder what Jammund would actually do if he did, if he’d just back off and let it happen, follow his friends or go after mine instead, or if he’d use the distraction and gang up on me with this terrifying beast. Neither likelihood much appeals to me – even on his own I genuinely don’t know if I actually could stand against this one …

“Fuck …” Taking a long step back, this Ixen fellow starts to withdraw with a frustrated growl, baleful bright eyes narrow as he keeps then locked on me, finally pointing his sword my way as he adds: “Maybe our paths will cross again, I would certainly hope so. Until then …” He watches us both for several more crabbing steps before finally turning and breaking into a run in the same direction the rest of his crew went.

Unable to restrain myself, I clear my throat and yell out with all I can: “SULIN!!! DARWYN!!! WATCH YOUR BACKS!!! THERE’S MORE COMING!!!”

Jammund cocks his brow, that crooked little smile returning now. “Mind what’s in front o’ you, lass. Your fight’s here, not with them.”

Vandryss going through that door instead of following the others makes me uncomfortable, whether she went with Tavarrat or not. After the threats this bastard made towards Gael, it worries me greatly that they’ve gone to do awful harm to my friend, enough that I’m already starting to regret my decision to stay here for a one-on-one fight instead. I have to fight my way through him to get to them now, while that cruel bitch could have killed them already. I don’t have time for this.

So I just growl: “I’ve got wits enough for you.” under my breath, shifting my stolen sword forward in a low two-handed guard … and charge him.

His eyes widen considerably as I rush him with my sword already swinging, letting me know I’ve caught him unaware enough at least for a chance as he takes another step back and starts to twist, trying to parry my stroke. So I turn it into a feint as I suddenly duck left and run up the wall to get my foot up high enough to launch myself with sufficient force to bring my sword down swift and heavy on him from above.

Only for him to turn into it with a startled grunt and bring his sword up just in time to catch the blow across its flat, bringing his other hand up at the last to firm his grip up a little. In the end the force of my intended blow still drives both of our blades down far enough he has to bend significantly to his side to keep my edge from cutting high into his shoulder after all, finally stopping it a bare inch short of biting home. I grit my teeth and push harder, trying to force it into him after all, but he’s stronger than I originally expected, his rangy limbs holding surprising power despite his clear age. He’s straining as hard as I am, but holding up impressively well.

In the end it starts to feel like a stalemate, and while I know I could probably win in a battle of attrition if I decided to just wait him out I just can’t afford the time right now. So I finally pull back quick with a frustrated snarl and spring away to open up space between us, mindful in case he can muster enough speed to attack after all while I withdraw. Instead he just staggers back a step himself, gasping as he sucks in fresh breath, instead just winded for the moment but strong enough at least to keep his sword up now, pointing it at me with a steady enough hand to keep me beyond arm’s length as he composes himself.

His eyes dancing as he regards me. “That was … sneaky, you got some moves. Strong too.”

Narrowing my eyes, I don’t answer him, instead just taking a few steps to the side, approaching the wall again. Not quite enough room to circle, not in this relatively tight corridor. Judging what moves are actually available to me right now, since he’s clearly shown he’s got some talent of his own. He just watches me, getting his breathing under control again, and I see the wheels turning behind his eyes now, thinking like I am. Evaluating the threat, adjusting his plan accordingly. Meanwhile my overall problem remains the same, I still have to get past him.

So I suck in a frustrated breath through my teeth and take a step closer before planting my feet, keeping my sword low now as I loosen my grip up a little. Watching his eyes.

I don’t have to wait long, catching his quick glance to my right just before he lunges and twisting accordingly, but staying loose in case it’s a clever feint instead. But he comes in as I expected, and as I dance aside I bring my sword round, hoping to cut him down while he’s still turning in response. Except that he twists aside when I swat my blade towards him, ducking under my stinging slash before wheeling about on wide feet and trying to cut up under my defences after. I have to spring back to avoid the blow, and skip away with my heart in my mouth, finally winding up with my back to the wall once I’ve opened enough distance between us.

Slowly realising I’m past him now, I risk a quick glance up the corridor that’s now behind me, empty save for the charring from Lady Naru’s spell marking the carpet and bottom of the wall. Nothing between me and the door now, then. I could just run for it right now.

Except he’s still too spry for me to risk turning my back on him right now, and as I narrow my eyes he must work out what I’m thinking. He takes the first step towards me, cautious even as he gives his sword a cocky little flourish, and I grit my teeth as I step away from the wall, lowering the sword so it just hangs loose at my side as I wait for him on looser feet. Trying a different approach now.

Cocking his head, he pauses for a long moment as he looks me over again. Reevaluating me. I fight the urge to growl in frustration and take a few light, dancing steps towards him, hoping he’ll just take the bait and end my waiting.

Instead he just frowns, the smile fading quickly as he takes a wary step to his side, starting to crouch as he lowers his sword too, letting me come in, so I slow my approach, not planting my feet yet but continuing to bait him as I wait just outside easy reach. Trying to open my jaw now as I fight to keep myself loose.

When he comes this time he moves with more caution, but with a similar lightness of step that almost makes me miss the feint when he makes it. His sword comes swift enough I nearly miss the swipe, so I just stop thinking and respond, and while my own stolen blade is heavy and really not built for wielding one-handed, it parries quick and clean enough to make him dance back. I press before he can entirely recover, aiming a few swift, darting jabs at his centre of mass while I jump forward, keeping loose as I step with light feet, hoping I can harry him into the wall now as he backs up while striking each jab aside.

Instead he finally wheels aside, again trading places with me as the limited width of the passage makes true circling difficult. This time when he backs up he doesn’t leave me waiting long, coming quick with a high attack that I don’t bother trying to parry, instead just ducking aside and rushing past him to open another gap between us. As he turns I skip backwards on the balls of my feet, beckoning him in with my free hand.

This time when he frowns at me for a beat before letting a wary huff go and then charging I plant my feet firm at the last and step back onto my trailing foot, extending the sword before me in a firm, locked thrust pointed directly at his chest. He barely manages to arrest his charge enough to stumble aside, and when he staggers into the wall I break out of my stance with sharp, hungry speed, swinging the sword in a deft flourish while I wind up my attack, bringing my other hand up to add strength to the stroke.

He stays where he is, likely realising when he sees me coming he doesn’t have time or good enough footing to spring aside so he just swings his sword up into his free hand to meet my stroke. He just manages to get it up in time, stopping my blade again, and we lock up, him gritting his teeth after finally managing to plant his feet as he fights to keep me a bare blade’s width shy while I again strive to drive my own edge into him, this time going for his throat. The steel between us scrapes and squeals under the strain we’re putting on it, but both blades are too well made, and we’re too evenly matched in strength still, so neither of us are going to win a shoving match.

Growling low in my face, the tendons standing right out in his throat while his face is flushing red, a condition I suspect is frustratingly is similar to my own right now,Jammund snarls: “For Thorin’s sake … what exactly is the fucking plan here, luv? You tryin’ to wear me down? It’s starting to look like you’re getting’ tired as me right now …”

“Oh … will you just … shut the fuck up?” I try to shove a little harder, but it’s like I have no more strength to give, every joint in me seems to be locked tight while all my muscles, from my arms and back right down to my thighs and calves, are screaming for this to just be over. He’s got a point, I don’t know how much more of this I can actually take.

Seems like he’s trying to do much the same thing, working on bringing his right arm up now but only succeeding in turning his wrist a bit to raise his elbow a foot or so, while his breath is a tight, wheezing hiss … then he lets out a winded snarl at the same time that his whole upper body twists. We’re locked so tight together right now I can’t do anything in response, the movement’s so sudden I just wind up going with his motion so the sword gripped like a vice by my fingers jumps up and to the right, driven hard into the wall by his head. The edge bites into the plaster with a squeaking scrape that shrieks in my ears and I’m immediately overbalances as I have to stretch to prevent the weapon from getting torn right out of my grip. Meanwhile he twists out of our broken lock, dragging his own sword down with wicked speed as he does so. And I’m not wearing a single scale of armour …

The only thing that saves me from getting carved right open on the spot is timing, my momentum spinning me around as I’m thrown aside so that his blade glances me with a fairly shallow cut that mostly just slices meat. Even so, the pain is instant and significant, a line of white hot agony opening under my left arm, and pure survival instinct takes over as I stumble away, almost falling as I wheel away from him. The only mercy is that suddenly my breathing comes easier as the corset’s significantly loosened, but as I feel hot wetness immediately start to spread over my hip and leg my head starts to go light as I realise that’s my blood. Shit … not again, I just got over the last time …

Stumbling away, I keep moving to try and open some ground between us until my back meets the wall and my legs almost give out under me. I let myself collapse just enough to start clawing some focus back, but I can’t breathe in anywhere near as deep as I’d like while my side flares with fresh pain from each expansion of my ribs. It’s making it hard enough to concentrate, but when I finally chance a look down I see that my whole left leg’s already slick with blood, the cloth of my skirts a much darker shade of red than the dress Lady Naru fashioned. I reach up now with my shaking hand and try to staunch the flow, but I can’t manage much more than a prod before a greater agony lights up right through me and I actually swoon for a moment, barely managing to keep from collapsing on the spot. Somehow I claw my way back to full consciousness but it’s a hard thing indeed.

Fuck … he actually did some damage here, more than any other time tonight I’m thoroughly lamenting the fact that I was forced to come here with no bloody armour at all. Even a few layers of light boiled leather would surely have been better than this …

The only real saving grace for me right now is that Jammund hasn’t attacked while I’ve been comprehensively distracted, but then when I finally manage to blink enough to regain focus I can see he’s still doubled against the other wall. He’s still breathing heavily, his sword barely gripped in loose fingers hung at his side while he’s propped on his knee with the other hand, only now raising his head to look my way as he pants away. He looks pretty pissed off, but there’s real weariness there in his face too, showing me that, while he clearly wants to murder me more than ever before, right now he can’t actually muster the strength to do it. Unfortunately I’m almost certain he’s going to get his second wind significantly before I do.

Meanwhile time keeps on slipping through my fingers as I remember that I can’t afford to keep floundering here right now. Never mind that I’m clearly hurting, I still need to finish this quickly. So I grit my teeth and mentally prepare myself for what I know I have to do as I force my legs to straighten out a little more, my back too, drawing myself back up to something like my proper height as I try to tighten my grip on my stolen sword … then jam my hand firmly down against the wound in my side and barely manage to bite back the rising scream as the sudden flare of more acute pain wakes me right up again. I push myself away from the wall in the same moment and strive forward, my first steps a very clumsy stagger before I start to wrestle a little more focus and balance into my movements. Letting the sword drag by its point on the floor for the moment as I force myself forward a step at a time, saving what strength I have for when I actually need it.

Jammund sees me coming, of course, his eyes narrowing as he lets another winded grunt out, and he shoves himself up too, starting to shift around me as he stumbles into the middle of the corridor, trying to flank me now, I realise. I wheel around to face him as I do my best to plant my feet, pulling in another relatively deep breath that makes my ribs ache but does at least stoke my growing anger, adding fuel to the fire I use to focus. Watching him as he considers me for a long beat, wary now in spite of clearly being In significantly better condition at the moment.

Very slowly, I drag the sword up from where its resting against the floor, raising it as well as I can between us, shifting my trailing foot back as I try to effect a guard while I’m still gripping my side with my offhand. Even though I’ve managed to get the weapon up, I’m not so confident that I’ll actually be able to wield it right now when it comes to actual fighting …

Then he stops biding his time and comes for me, not bothering with a feint given my condition but instead just slashing up under the open side of my defences, and I stop thinking again, just letting my instinct and muscle memory take over now. It’s all I have left under the circumstances. My footwork’s wilfully clumsy as I don’t so much dance back as stumble, but somehow it’s coordinated enough that I don’t just trip and fall down as I manage to parry and counter every one of his swift, slicing attacks.

Even so, I’m not fighting back at all, simply letting him drive me back as I just defend myself. He slowly starts to wear me down, my movements growing more desperate and less precise as my focus starts to slip, my limbs growing heavier under his punishment, the weight of the weapon in my one remaining good hand and the encroaching exhaustion from my wound. I can’t keep this up much longer, and he knows it, so he just continues to work me back, trying with each attack to work his way through my defences but clearly growing more confident with each passing second that I’m as likely to falter on my own now.

Finally he drives in a particularly wicked thrust that I just barely manage to turn aside, but then he twists his lighter, quicker blade around and twists my own weapon around, causing me to stumble while my wrist bends badly and my grip falters. The hilt slips free of my weakened fingers and even as the sword rattles off to the side he’s already following through, not with his own blade but a hard kick to my stomach. The brutal impact must batter the wind right out of me, but I really don’t notice, the sympathetic explosion of fresh pain in my side as I’m pounded back is all that I really notice, exacerbated by a second flare when I land on my back a few feet further down the corridor.

My head swims as I come worryingly close to passing out after all, and I’m a long beat blinking up again before I manage to claw back enough watery, tear-blurred focus to catch sight of him staggering up. He’s breathing heavy again, at least letting me know that he still hasn’t fully recovered from our previous struggle just before he cut me open, meaning that his subsequent burst of impressive violence must have taken a deal more out of him that he let show. That being said, as he towers over me now with his sword still firmly in hand I doubt he’s going to need to work too hard now to finish me off.

Even so, I still muster up just about enough paltry strength to rummage under my skirts to slip out the remaining knife still strapped to my thigh, although as I work to raise it between us now I doubt I have the strength to actually use it. Looking up at him as he pauses to ponder the blade, then glances back up to meet my eyes, it’s clear enough he must come to the same conclusion. A slow, weary smile starts to creep across his lips, and a cold chill of inevitable dread rolls over me as I realise I’m about to die.

Then his back arches as he gasps in surprise and sudden, pained shock, a long, lethally sharp length of tapering pointed steel suddenly erupting from a little left of the centre of his chest with a surprisingly heavy burst of blood. The jet’s powerful enough for more than a few drops to splash my face, making me blink in startled surprise, and it must be a match to the look on his face because he clearly can’t believe what’s just happened as he gapes down at the long blade rammed right through his heart. As the strength leaves his arms and they drop to his sides his own sword slips from his slackening fingers to bounce away across the floor, then the blade’s the only thing holding him up as his legs follow suit. His mouth works for a few moments as he tries to speak, but nothing’s coming, then his eyes turn glassy before the light just leaves them entirely and his face goes slack, his head slumping forward. Orric Jammund expires without any ceremony at all.

“He’s …” I gasp as even the effort to speak makes my side scream now. “Oh fuck … ah … he’s dead, Kesla. You can let him down.”

The seemingly massive sliver of steel is swiftly drawn back out of the corpse and it drops all at once like a limp ragdoll, revealing my friend as she hobbles back a few steps, very much favouring one leg while the other’s planted stiff out to her side. “Yeah … oof … figured you needed help when I heard you shouting. Took me a while to get here, mind.” She blinks down at the body for a moment before finally turning to me, and her eyes quickly widen as she gets a proper look at the state I’m in. “Oh … oh fucking hell, Shay! Not again … gods, why is it always you?” Lowering her sword, she has to take another clumsy, swaying stumbling step to the side to reorient herself before she starts to move towards me.

“No! Kesla, there’s no time! Get to Gael! Do it now!” I point to the door, my desperation filling my voice now. “Quick!”

TO BE CONTINUED ...

#never split the party #The Creeping Bam #the adventures of the creeping bam #book 4 chapter 29 #original fiction #fantasy fiction #original fantasy fiction #to be continued

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waloeders · 3 months

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omg i found an old fic i never finished of sleip n kos ahsbdjnsd why didnt i post this 😭 (just a mini wip, minor warning for mentions of fighting n blood, a little bit of jealousy implied - they're training)

sleipnir/kosmos

"aw, fuck." they groaned, throwing their head back against the solid stone ground. above them, sleipnir chuckled, lowering the rapier he wielded and stepping back.

"your skills with a blade still leave much to be desired, kosmos." he announced, flicking the blade to his side with a flourish, and tilted his head at the sight before him.

ryder lay flat on the ground, coated in a layer of sweat and dust. they wore the same, simplistic valisthean style as always: a white tunic, a black vest and trousers and ankle boots.

"not my fault though, really? i've been doing this swords thing for like a month, man, jeez.." the young man mumbled as he pushed himself back onto his feet, grabbing the sword he'd dropped. he fell into the ready position once again, stretching his neck with a muffled moan, "hardly like we do a whole bunch of sword fighting back home, 'ey?"

the lord commander hummed, mimicking their movements with a smirk.

"surely you must have learned something." he tutted, "your stance is too wide - unless you plan to fall in the first strike."

they rolled their eyes, but adjusted accordingly.

"how come you're helping with this anyway? i mean, gav was perfectly happy to teach me."

"perhaps so." sleipnir raised his sword, "at arms."

in one swift motion, he struck forwards and supressed a grin as ryder barely parried the hit, then the next, and a third before-

the egi caught the hilt of their blade, twisting it away from their grasp and pinned them against the hard-rock walls of the fallen ruin.

ryder panted heavily against his rapier, held up to their neck, as he leaned closer to them.

"that, my beloved, is why. it is hardly fitting for one so close to our liege to fail in such a manner." sleipnir whispered out, barely an inch away from their face, "can gav teach you to avoid my blade?"

they flushed a deep red, grinning widely.

"oh, okay. it's like that." kosmos laughed, "you're jealous, of gav- ha!"

he pulled back, nicking them slightly with his sword, and tutted again. for once, sleipnir was greatful for the amount of time he had spent at his leiges' side, among diplomats, emperors and kings, and the control over his emotions that he'd learned, forcing away the twinge of embarassment at their realisation.

"and you have failed this test of strength, kosmos. were i anyone else, you would be dead."

"were you anyone else, you'd probably kill you for doing that." they joked, hissing lightly as they pressed a hand against the small cut, "hah, i'm bleeding! d'ya know how much blood i've lost since coming here? it's kinda ridiculous actually- you guys live such dangerous lives all the time, ugh."

sleipnir rolled his eyes at their ramblings, but sheathed his sword, gingerly grasping their chin and moving them to inspect the wound closer.

"hmm. this is nothing." his eyes flicked to theirs; ryder was already staring at him, some emotion swirling behind the blue, "truly, humans of your world must be as weak and wretched as here - perhaps worse."

"it's not all bad." they mumbled, subconsciously wetting their lip as they leaned into his touch, "prognosis, doc?"

he recognised the phrase, something they used frequently when recovering from the events of the reverie - some attempt to make light of their injuries, or the situation at hand, and sleipnir scoffed.

"death, of course. 'twas a mortal blow."

kosmos giggled, "tragic, huh!"

he released them at last, watching keenly as their head dropped, strands of dark hair escaping their ponytail.

without thinking, the egi pushed the strands back, running his hand over their hair to tug on the ends of their ponytail, and ignored the way they seemingly froze at the action.

"and you must tie your hair better. in battle, this will only get in the way."

"r- righto, boss." they chuckled, "how come you get to have such lucious hair out and i don't?"

"simple. because i am a better fighter than you."

"ouch! touché."

#jupiter.speaks #.wip #❤️.sleipnir #👤.kosmos #> girl what the hell....this isnt even subtle flirting.#> also i do still think sleip is the type to get jealous over nothing. but! i also think hes mature enough to not act on it #> hes like hrrrng. okay im over it 💪#> at some point ill clean this up n post properly i do really like this its sweet <3 #> its very much how we interact too! v proud

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primofate · 3 years

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Short Fic

Requested by: @sparklycupcake56

Scenario: Playing knight and princess

Character: Kaeya x fem reader

Warning: Not proofread

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“Mister Kaeyaaaaa!” All around him the little girls of the town of Mondstadt looked up at him with puppy dog eyes, tugging on his shirt. He smiles down at them, a soft chuckle erupting from his chest. “Well hello there little ladies,”

One of the little girls with jet black hair tied up in pigtails jumped up and down excitedly, “Mister Kaeya, you’re a knight right? Right?” Kaeya scoops that girl up into his arms and the little girl giggles while the ones gathering around him groan in protest. “Not fairrrr!” “Me too!!”

“Now, now girls, let’s play nice,” He doesn’t even know how he ends up in this situation, but he responds to the girl propped up in his arms. “I am, very much a knight,” he says gallantly and the little girl’s eyes shine. “Guys, guys let’s have Mister Kaeya play the knight in our princess and knight story!” The other two girls around him clap and cheer, and one of them speaks up. “Oh, but, we need a princess too! Let’s go around town and look for a princess for Knight Kaeya!”

The said girl grabs Kaeya’s hand and just as she was about to pull on him, you walk in on the scene, wondering what all the ruckus was about. The kids in Mondstadt did like playing with whoever was available. Your guess was that Kaeya just looked particularly free and the kids pounced on him. “Kaeya?” You softly call out to him as you walk over.

All three little girls’ heads snap towards you and their eyes suddenly shine like a thousand diamonds. They gasp and point, “We found a princess!” “It’s a princess!” “Ohhh! Let’s take her!” You let out a small “Huh?!” when the two kids pull on your hand and place you in front of Kaeya, who was already liking the idea. “Prin...cess...?” You tilt your head, questioning gaze in your eyes.

Kaeya puts the girl in his arms down and all of a sudden takes your hand, bending on one knee, eyes locked on yours. Your face flush and you’re taken by surprise, “K-Kaeya? What?” He winks at you and plays along with the kids’ ideas. “Knight Kaeya kisses the Princess’ hand, he’s asking her to the ball!”

“My princess,” Kaeya starts, the people around the fountain were glancing at the two of you, wondering if he was actually proposing. “I’d be honoured to escort you to the ball tonight, if you would let me,” he kisses your hand, his lips lingering for a few seconds, eyes never leaving yours and it finally hits you what was happening. He was entertaining the kids, and you being you, you didn’t have the heart to say no to them either.

“Oh, well, um--” you stumble over your words “S-Sure...” The kids erupt in cheers and gather around you as Kaeya stands. “Big sister, big sister! You have to change into your princess dress! Hurry! Don’t let Knight Kaeya wait!” The lot of them start pushing you away from Kaeya who is extremely amused by the whole thing.

Moments later you somehow end up in your house, looking for a proper “princess dress” to wear. You find a royal blue long sleeved dress, the middle part cinching your waist perfectly and the round neckline exposing your collarbones. You were beyond embarrassed. You didn’t even know why you agreed to it but you gathered your dress, lifted it up and started walking back to the town square. You got pleasant looks from the townspeople and that made you feel that maybe this wasn’t so stupid after all.

“Ohhhh! She’s here!” One of the little girls pointed at you. Kaeya’s back is turned away from you and you approach cautiously, unsure of what his reaction might be. When he turns around though, you catch the way his eyes widen a fraction, and in the next moment he was back to normal. He approaches you with a valiant smile, stunning and confident as he strides towards you. He stops a few steps away and bows perfectly, “Princess, you are...” he straightens up and offers his hand “possibly the most beautiful sight in the world,”

Off to the side you could hear the kids whispering amongst each other “...What’s sight?” “I don’t know? Maybe a lady...?” You smile a little, whether or not you’re really playing along or actually enjoying this was already lost in your mind. You gingerly place your hand atop his and “Thank you, sir Kaeya,” you close your eyes briefly, “Should we be going?”

One of the kids whisper, her hand cupped around her mouth. “Mister Kaeyaaaa! You have to carry the princess or she’ll be tired!” Kaeya chuckles and in the next moment has hoisted you up in his arms rather easily, your arms automatically wrap around his neck, soft sound of surprise escaping your lips. One of his arms was under your back and the other cradling your legs.

“Allow me, my princess, I will be your legs, up until we arrive at our destination,” The kids urge him to walk out to the gates of Mondstadt the two guards over there stared weirdly at the two of you as he passed by. “The knight puts the princess down, they’re nearly at the ball! But first... the knight kisses the princess right in the middle of the bridge and confesses his love!” Kaeya was impressed at the kids’ storytelling skills, he was starting to wonder what kinds of books the kids read.

He didn’t protest though and even happily put you down on your feet and in the next moment wraps an arm around your waist. Dear God his arms are so strong, you could feel his experience in battle rippling across his skin and you feel like you could melt in his hold. He pulls you closer, until his forehead is against yours and the two of you close your eyes, enjoying the peacefulness of it all. “Y/N...” He whispers, and for a moment you and him are not playing pretend, for a moment it was just the two of you in each other’s presence. “You are, without a doubt, the only princess I’ll want for the rest of my life,” Your eyes open slowly, cheeks flushing pink at your lover’s statement.

“Kaeya...” your hands grip at his shirt, the fabric moving under your hold, your eyes holding so much desire for the man you loved, and his own mirroring it. “...Kiss me...?” You’re out of words to say, just wanting to feel his lips on yours. It was the only thing missing. He complies rather easily and turns his head slightly sideways to capture your lips in a gentle and chaste kiss, the way a knight would gently kiss his fragile princess. Protected and looked after.

The claps and cheers of the kids take you back to reality. Ah. That’s right, still playing pretend, “and they lived happily ever after!” the three kids cheered to which Kaeya slightly laughs and you laugh along with them. The three kids gather around Kaeya and yourself, wrapping their arms around your waists. “Thank you!” “Thank you Mister Kaeya!” “Thank you big sister, you’re so pretty! I wanna be like you when I grow up!” Kaeya glances down at that particular kid and agrees. “She is, isn’t she? Truly a princess,”

You send him a mock-glare, playfully nudging his shoulder with yours. “You’re such a handful,” you mumble towards him and he smiles. “Oh? But my little princess seemed to like it,” you just glare at him again, but didn’t say anything in protest, still feeling the tiny butterflies in your stomach.

Taglist: @larkspyrr @outlet-0 @rim0na

#kaeya #kaeya x reader #genshin kaeya x reader #reader insert #genshin hcs #genshin short fic #genshin fics #genshin fanfiction #genshin headcanons #genshin headcanon #genshin hc #kaeya hc #keaya fics #kaeya fanfictions

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shurisneakers · 3 years

Text

harmless (viii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, protesting, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, gamer (derogatory), smidge of angst

Word count: 3.5k

A/N: listen idk what goes on at construction site and im too sexy to research so we’re going with my version of the world. hello. how are we all doing?

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

He doesn’t expect to see you on TV.

In jail maybe, for something scandalous and completely unnecessary, but not TV.

But there you are, a sign board waving around furiously in your hand, voice in protest against the demolition of the community centre. You’re flipping the board back and forth to alternate between the messages you’ve scrawled on the cardboard.

You were among a few protesting, but clearly the loudest.

He thinks that maybe he has the weekend off if you’re too busy fighting big corporations. He’d send his support even.

Until he zeroes in on the sign when it flips over, finally reading what it says.

You better get your ass here, sarge

And so he does.

Half the crowd had dipped by the time he arrived. You were there, still the loudest, but he couldn’t help but notice the lack of people as compared to an hour or two ago on TV. He supposed that justice could wait as long as it took to get lunch from the nearest café.

“I can’t stop you from protesting, y’know.” He’s a little wary of approaching your raging self.

“Oh, hey Barnes. You got my message.” You break away for a second to scream a bunch of obscenities at the gigantic glass building before turning to him. “You wouldn’t be able to.”

“What’s your dumb plan then?”

“First of all, it’s not dumb. It’s stupid. Put some respect on my technological genius.” You held up a finger. “Second of all, it’s not here.”

“Where is it?”

“At the construction site.” You point down the road. “Come on.”

Right along the way you stop to chant another slogan. He waves his arm around meekly in support. He did, after all, have to stand up for what was right, but if his publicist saw him here she’d have an aneurysm.

The construction site isn’t very far off. It’s adjacent to the community centre, which he assumes they’re going to tear down to make more space for whatever shitty commercial building was going to take its place.

There are already a few excavators and dozers there but no one to man them since it was lunch time. What garners his attention is the small silver plate that’s on the floor a few feet ahead in the direction you’re walking towards.

“Here.” You stop once it nears. “The plan.”

“Am I supposed to know what this is?” He lightly kicked at it, earning a smack on the arm from you.

“Stop that,” you scolded, “and look at it. It’s not hard to figure out.”

He narrows his eyes. There’s a small u-shaped piece of metal in the middle of the plate. “That’s a magnet.”

“Exactly.” You clapped your hands together in excitement. “The world’s strongest electromagnet.”

He looks around. The only possibly magnetic things are the cranes and excavators around him.

“You’re going to... stop the machines from moving ahead?” he hesitates in his deduction.

“Yep. Can’t tear anything down if they can’t get to it first.”

Bucky looks down.

“Does this thing even work?” He toes at it again. “It’s kinda small.”

“It works beautifully, stop kicking at it, you demon-”

“What happens if I step on it, huh?” He knows this would get on your nerves wonderfully. He raises his leg. “Do I get to go home for the day?”

“You’re such a little shit,” you whine, reaching for your back pocket. “Stop bullying my invention.”

“’m gonna squish it like a bug.” He’s only half kidding about that part. “I’m gonna-”

Before he can finish his sentence something yanks him down hard. His head nearly hits the ground before his right arm shoots out to break his fall.

"Woah there, don't go falling for me as yet.”

“What the fu-” he begins, eyes locking on his metal arm that was pressed flat against the earth.

“I told you it works,” you say smugly. “Try crushing it now, Barnes. If you can even get off the floor.”

He tugs his hand but it’s firmly attached to the thing. No matter how or where he’s applying the effort, his limb refuses to move. He’s stuck.

“Turn it off,” he sighs. “You made your point.”

“No. Stay there.”

“Y/N, shut up and turn this off,” he groans, trying to find a better position rather than chin down on the ground.

“Lay there and rot. You deserve it for underestimating me.” You huff.

“I wasn’t underestimating you, Jesus Christ.” He really was planning to just step on it, but he had complete faith that it worked.

When he doesn’t receive a reply, his gaze follows yours. Suddenly the crane looks a lot closer than it initially did. Awesome.

“Those are moving towards me.” He picks up on the low groan and creak of metal.

“Yeah, they are.” You nod, one hand on your hip, watching them.

He didn’t think that getting crushed under construction equipment would be how his day went.

“Not my problem,” you decide finally after a bout of silence.

Now that simply wouldn’t do.

Death was definitely a problem, but what was more important was that he was going to get a dust allergy from the mud. He could already feel the blocked nose and temperature incoming.

“Are you really going to waste this on me? Don’t you have a demolition to stop?” He manages to twist his body so that he’s lying on his back.

“Good point,” you squint into the distance at the whirring of the heavy machinery. Their owners wouldn’t be happy to find them missing from their original spot. “But I still can’t help you out.”

“You’re willing to sacrifice your-”

“I can’t help you out because I don’t have an off switch. Yet,” you add the last part in a hurry.

“Then when the fuck were you planning to build one?” He sits up, leaning on his elbow. The cranes weren’t a mini object on the horizon now; the closer they got, the faster they were starting to move towards him.

“I don’t know, after they agreed not to take down the building?”

He could just detach his arm and come back for it later he but had no guarantee that you would stop here for the day or that the vibranium could withstand all that pressure.

“You better make a switch right now and get me out of this, I don’t care how.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you grumbled, bending to assess how badly he was stuck. “You know, this thing runs really deep into the earth. It’d take forever to dig back up and then get you back to my lab and then build a switch.”

“How long?” He didn’t have a lot of time, clearly, but even generally he didn’t have the whole day to waste. He had a mission the next day. He had to put the fear of death into some Russians and bring some pirozhki back for Nat.

“I don’t know,” you furrowed your eyebrows. “Too long for my schedule anyway, I have class prep to do.”

“Motherfucke- that thing’s like twenty feet away.” He’s worried about how you don’t look fazed at all when he points at the stupid machine.

He’s about to volunteer to detach his arm when he realises it’s definitely less than twenty feet now. He had a backup just in case. It didn’t move as smoothly, but who could tell the difference when a couple of tons of pressure was aiming for your face, and hell, if he explained his circumstances of the destruction of his arm to T’Challa-

“Okay, fine.” You reach into your backpack to grab something that looked like a wrist watch. It matched the one already around your hand.

You reach over and clasp it around his hand before turning a dial on the side.

“You ready?” you ask, ignoring the large crane that was starting to charge towards you.

“For what?” he replies, looking down at it. He can barely hear you over the sound of the whining of machinery.

“Teleportation, baby.” You send him a big grin before slamming down on his watch.

“Huh-” His voice cuts off immediately.

If there’s anything that can be said about teleportation, it’s that he feels like every atom in his entire body violently splits to float around briefly before suddenly rejoining again.

The ground beneath him feels different, and it takes him a second to realise that he was on the floor of your lair.

“What the fu-”

“Hello,” your voice comes from above him.

“You can teleport.” It’s not difficult for him to look at you now without the sun in his face. His arm is still stuck to the magnet but since the giant rod it was attached to was no longer deep in the ground, he could lift the entire apparatus up relatively easily.

“What, like it’s hard?” You discarded your bag on the floor. “You good? Takes a while to get used to.”

He gives you a grunt in acknowledgement, shaking his arm to see if he had any luck. It didn’t budge.

“Come on, take a seat.” You gesture to a lab chair you’ve pulled up for him on the raised platform at the front of the room. He realises that this is the first time he’s properly seen what’s actually inside your lair.

There are various buttons that do God knows what, drawers and cabinets painted black, several computer screens and gigantic pillars of glass on either side of the set up that encapsulate some green bubbling liquid. There’s a giant television set up against the wall, divided into several screens.

“Whaddya think?” You do a small swoop of your arm to show off the place.

“Gamer,” he says simply, testing his luck.

“What did you just say to me?” you recoil instantly, disgust on your face.

“It’s a gamer set up.” He points a finger at the TV screen. He was told by Shuri to use it as an insult, but he wasn’t exactly sure why. It just felt appropriate.

“Take that back right now.” You raise a finger accusatorially at him.

“No.” He was sticking with it even though he had no idea what exactly the context was.

“Fuck your arm,” you announce, throwing your hands up in surrender.

“Fuck your demolition then,” he replies simply, getting up from his place on the chair to leave with the thing still attached to him.

He takes one step ahead before your voice rings out.

“Sit down, drama queen,” your voice calls from behind him. “God, you’re annoying.”

“You’re infuriating.”

“I’m the best part of your week,” you fire back, ”and also your only way out of this. Now sit down.”

He didn’t even need the second warning, he was already on the chair the first time around.

“I’m not going to build a switch to turn this off. It’d take too long,” you examine the piece of equipment with more gentleness than he was expecting, “I’m going to remove it instead. It’s gonna take a while, so you better get comfortable.”

“I’m not.”

“That’s so sad,” you say without any indication of wanting to help.

He rolls his eyes.

You pull up next to him, welding glasses covering your face and the tool in your hand.

He turns away when you start, making sure his face is not directly within its trajectory.

He makes himself busy by looking around some more. There are details you’ve put into the place, materials that are non-flammable made up most of the architecture. It’s dramatic, sure, but somehow the designs and colours seemed to go together. It did look sinister, he’d give you props for that.

The space was quite big. It occurs to him only then that that’s how you manage to sneak up on him so often in the past. Everything clicked. Fucking teleportation.

“So,” your voice was raised to speak over the noise. “How’s it going?”

He decidedly doesn’t answer. His position is more than enough.

“Right.” You clear your throat.

He takes to counting the tiles on the floor, figuring out how many were there from the raised platform to the wall of the entrance.

“Not how you imagined your day to go, huh?” you continued despite his lack of response. “But some might say it’s a privilege to be spending the day with a cool, mad scie-”

“Are you going to keep talking?” he interrupts, losing his count on the floor.

“Yeah, duh,” you say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You got anything better to do?”

He didn’t.

“What’s it like living with a bunch of superheroes?” You change course. He’s not sure if he’s really allowed to disclose top secret information. “I assume there’s a lot of protein shakes, talcum powder for the chafing-”

Then again, how much damage could you do by knowing that Steve preferred pancakes over waffles?

“It’s quiet,” he says. “Most of the time.”

“Save all your smart talking for the battlefield, huh?”

He doesn’t reply. It’s quiet around the Tower. A lot of their energy goes towards missions and recuperating once they’re back.

“You go on missions a lot?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Boo, you whore,” you say with mock disappointment.

He got that reference.

“What’s your favourite food then?”

He scrunches his eyebrows.

“What?” The welding stops for a second while you look at him. “Don’t tell me that’s classified too.”

It’s not, he’s just never thought about it.

“I don’t know,” he murmurs, “Pasta?”

“Vague, but I’ll take it.”

He used to boil a lot of pasta, from what he could remember of his days in hiding. Cheap and bought in bulk before he saved up enough to buy things like fruits. A lot of the times the amount of sauce he had access to was enough for maybe seasoning, not a whole component on its own.

It’s one of the perks of being a free man in the 21st century he thinks, a steaming bowl of fettuccini drenched in sauce and garlic bread on the side.

“What do you do in your downtime?”

“Nothing.” Well, he considers it to be a pass time and doing nothing is a full time gig. It takes effort to do nothing. He even has days dedicated to doing nothing, as suggested to him by his therapist.

“Really?” You sound a little surprised, although it’s hard to make out when you’re already speaking a lot louder than usual. “No shining your penny collection? No software update for this thing?” You tap at his arm.

There really isn’t anything. Truth be told, he thinks he’s the most boring guy in the Tower. He sticks to himself, has a few succulents that he adores and occasionally watches trashy television. So then why are you so interested in him?

“You’re obsessed with me,” he says pointedly. “Why?”

You give a short laugh. “I think it’s the blue eyes, sarge, they’re really popping today. Gotta say, I’m loving this colour on you. Is it different from the black you wore last week? And from the one from the week before that?”

He looks down at his dark t-shirt and utility pants. He had other clothes but those were reserved for things that were not this.

“Or maybe it’s the grumpiness, I don’t know. I love it when someone shows absolutely no interest in me. Very sexy of you.” Oh jeez, you were going to continue. “Hell, maybe it’s the thighs-”

“Okay,” he interjects, feeling the need to count the tiles more than ever. He equates the heat in his neck from the welding going on beside him.

The loudness of your laughter is clearer than the sound of metal on metal when you tug a large piece of the invention off. Things were moving fast. He could get back home to his Star Trek marathon and forget this day ever happened.

“You know, you’re more interesting than you think,” you pipe up casually.

He doesn’t expect this and therefore he supposes he can’t stop the curiosity from enveloping his face. He hasn’t told you anything about himself, so then the inference you reached came out of nowhere.

Apparently, you take notice of the confusion on his face, even though he can’t see through the giant welding mask, because you let out a chuckle.

“Oh, come on, really? You have no idea?” you ask lightly, pausing to see if he offers anything other than silence. “You’ve come back almost every week even though you know it’s a waste of your time, you always keep your promises and I know for a fact that if you wanted to stop me once and for all, you could have. But you’re not.”

He doesn’t realise you’ve stopped welding until you start again. Good, it gives him an excuse not to have to look at you after that.

Frankly, he’s a little stunned.

You’re not looking at him, he can tell from his peripheral vision. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have a small crush on me.”

At that, he’s forced to roll his eyes out of instinct. Thankfully you do know better.

A few screws out later, another piece comes out. You inform him that’s it’s going to get trickier from there since the circuit was a little more intricate, a lot more time than the original few pieces. He can see his Star Trek marathon fade away in the distance.

You ask him a few more questions. Some he answers with silence, others maybe a tidbit here and there.

“How’s dating now compared to the forties?”

“Strange.” He purses his lips in thought. “One guy asked for a gym date. Didn’t know that was a thing.”

“How’d that turn out?” you laugh.

“He didn’t ask for a second one.” His Bumble matches with girls somehow had gone down since he cut his hair, but he’s not too bothered. Not like there was a huge shortage.

He likes cats, thinks the worst merchandise that they make is the stupid baseball card with his face on it, and doesn’t have social media for the sake of his sanity. He’s seen the thirst tweets.

Clearly, he’s revealed his deepest, darkest secrets. Utterly classified material. But he doesn’t know anything about you other than your name, number, address, where you teach, what your hobby is-

“You, uh-” he hesitates, “You got a favourite food?”

Your hands hold still to hover above what they’re working on. You fight back a smile. “Sure do.”

He asks a few more questions. Shuts up when he feels his social battery drain. That’s enough for the next month, he thinks.

The sun’s dipped down beyond the horizon by the time majority of the work is completed. Both of you have taken a few breaks to fight the feeling of stiffness that was creeping into your joints.

You scoff and tell him you’re not planning to poison him when he denies the offer of a soda. He doesn’t deter in his decision.

“How much to go?” He has a mission tomorrow that he’d really like to get some sleep in before. Waking up at 3am to get ready was the worst part of the job.

“Basically done.” You roll your chair back, rotating your shoulder and stretching your fingers. “There’s just this little part that I can’t access from this angle. How good are you at hanging upside down like a bat?”

Fuck it, he sighs to himself, it was almost finished anyway.

Bucky stands up, tilting his neck to the side slightly before pulling at a small latch under his arm, one so tiny that you’d never make out was even there unless you knew it existed. The arm releases from his shoulder with a small click.

He offers it to you, a piece of your magnet still attached to it.

Your eyes are slightly wide. He raises his eyebrows.

You don’t say anything, just accept it and flip it to a position you were comfortable with. It takes only a minute or two for the sound of the last piece hitting the floor to reverberate through the hall.

You give a small cheer. He lets out a tiny exhale in equal parts fatigue and relief.

“So,” you drawl, handing his arm back to him, “you could have just done that the whole time.”

He doesn’t reply, just slides it back onto his shoulder.

“You had the option of leaving your arm here and coming back later to get it.”

He gives it a few shakes, opens and clenches his fist shut a few times to make sure everything is working.

“You wanted to talk to me.”

He gives you a deadpan look. “I was distracting you.”

“Bullshit,” you laugh.

“Believe what you must.” He shrugs, turning around. “My job here is done regardless.”

“Oh, I believe alright,” you call out from behind him as he walks towards the entrance of your lair. “I believe you’re a sneaky bastard, Bucky Barnes.”

He doesn’t stop himself from smiling at the overdramatic gasp you give when he flips you a middle finger. From the metal arm, too.

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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myelocin · 3 years

Text

Postcards From: Kanazawa | Tsukishima Kei

Synopsis: The fear that comes with love is the realization that it isn't always just light. Love, rediscovered as both the fear and the drive that depicts the push and pull of whether it's worth it to say "I do," if the unknown is what's to come beyond the vow. In which it's a week until the wedding, and the both of you return to Kanazawa--to day one--as strangers.

Characters: Tsukishima Kei

Genre/Tags: Engagement!AU, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with Happy Ending | WC: 10,200+

A/N: this is a piece commed by @tsukishumai ;w; tq for trusting me w u and ur bb boi ily to the moon n back

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commissions | ko-fi

The illusion of the soul is the false belief that love must always—always—be just light.

The truth is, it’s not. Love is many things. Primarily, love begins from desire. Then, that desire seeps into a drive that pushes you to keep wanting. Then finally, when it’s seeped in through the skin deep enough, love pools in the soul.

Love is bound to be raw at the very core. A desire. To say, “I want you,” and think it holds as much credibility as “I love you.” To look at what you know is only the tendrils of something at the very most, and trick yourself into thinking that it’s enough. A beating heart—bloody red. The line just barely hanging in-between what’s selfish and selfless, before it ultimately sways and becomes selfish sometimes.

Sometimes, being right now, Tsukishima thinks.

Sandwiched in-between you to the left, and Yamaguchi to his right, he finds his eyes flickering towards the clock a lot more often than he would have liked. Akaashi, who sat across from his seat on the table, was the first to catch on.

He quirked a brow, presumably in question earlier, and mouthed the question if he was in a rush. Tsukishima’s never been known for having too many words, but because Akaashi pauses and insists to relieve his question with an answer, he shrugs, waving him off and mouthing back that he’s alright.

“So,” Bokuto starts, his voice already slipping into somewhat of a slur. “How’s it feel to be the first to pop the question?”

You laugh, finding amusement in the man’s enthusiasm. Turning to Tsukishima, you sit and wait, expectant of a reaction.

In response, he just shrugs, but a smile breaks through and redefines the nonchalance of his expression anyway. Raising the glass to his lips, he takes a quick sip before answering smugly, “It’s nice to finally settle down. You should try it sometimes.”

Bokuto waves him off, cheeks flushed and eyes already drooping from the inebriation. “Nah,” he slurs, shaking his head. The exaggeration warrants a quick laugh from Sugawara, who sits on the other side, nursing his own drink. Continuing, Bokuto huffs and takes a slight pause before he connects the last of what he says with, “—getting married is nice and all, but I don’t know, man,” he laughs. “Just feels like I’ll end up hitting a fucking blank space after I do or whatever. Not my vibe.”

Visibly, Tsukishima shifts a little, the smile on his face maintained but the lighthearted energy that earlier fueled it just slightly more drained now.

From the corner of your eye, you notice it. Though, Akaashi’s the one who gives him a pointed stare, to which the former simply ignores.

“But—“ Bokuto continues, as if trying to remedy the cracked part of the atmosphere that isn’t even visible in the first place—“If that’s your thing, then I’m obviously not going to judge you for that.”

Tsukishima responds by his silence. Bokuto, with his head still warped around the heavy state of his inebriation, doesn’t do so much other than sip a little more of his barely filled glass of beer, Tsukishima’s apathetic expression just a blur in his eyes now.

“You seem happy, though,” Bokuto notes, then raises his glass towards you.

Blinking at being the sudden subject of his interest, you raise your own glass of water. The ice inside shifts, clinking against the sides of the glass, and slowly, Tsukishima watches. There’s familiarity in the way it moves down: trickling slow like the patience inside him that’s suddenly running by the clock. His palms just barely gripping the utensils, clammy. While his head, still whirs at Bokuto’s halfhearted words.

It’s halfhearted, he reminds himself.

The thought of hitting a plateau after “I do,” in a way is terrifying.

But he is happy, right?

The way his palms respond solely through tensing suddenly spikes the fear that maybe his ring will slip. So he looks at you, trying to find an anchor to keep the love he pushes to stay intertwined with his truth afloat as he responds, “Of course I am. I’m happy.”

You look back at him, eye to eye, though you find something waver just for a split second— wondering if there’s credibility in the saying that gold will always deliver truth.

The rest of the night flows easy.

Almost naturally, he’s quick to wave off Bokuto’s invite for more drinks at the bar just down the street, tugging your interlaced hands towards the parking lot as soon as the group found its way to the exit.

“You know he probably just wanted more company,” you laugh. Thirty minutes after making it back home, instead of jumping straight into the shower and getting ready for the night routine, you instead take out the suitcase and take your place, seated on the floor in the living room.

“We needed to pack,” you hear him respond, his voice a little distant from the bedroom down the hall.

You shrug. “Yeah, but we could have made time.”

“Sometimes we can’t just make things, if we don’t have any to make it with in the first place,” he sighs.

You chuckle. Perhaps it’s just one of those nights again. In the ten years you’ve known Tsukishima Kei, you found that he had a tendency to become a multitude of things.

A stranger, at the start, because that’s where every connection begins. The neighbor who lived with his grandfather across the street from your childhood home. Kanazawa was a long way from Sendai, but before his parents had whisked him off to Miyagi some years later, he had been the friend that oftentimes spent his afternoons with you.

Strawberry cake and tiny sips of boxed juice from the convenient store down the street, and not much conversation exchanged between the both of you. He’d tell you about the things on his grandfather’s old encyclopedia, and you’d listen with rapt attention, finding it nice how he seemed to carry a little bit of the stars the more his eyes gleamed. He just talked about dinosaurs, you remember. At ten, Tsukishima had always been a wonderer.

Then he moved.

From the friend who told you stories and shared his juice boxes with you under that tree, to the occasional email that would pop up on your phone, when you were in highschool and weaving your way in and out of pathways and dead-ends. Miyagi was a little like Kanazawa, he said. There was a lot of quiet in the two cities. His email would come once a week, then twice when you reckon he felt a little lonely.

You’d reply with the same kind of enthusiasm as he had established, though you still couldn’t deny the fact that the notification with his name on it never failed to have you smiling—at least just a little bit. At fifteen, Tsukishima was far from a stranger, but he was also falling just a little short in making it to the halfway mark of being a friend too.

The once-a-week emails were welcome, none the less. It stayed like that, until once a week turned into twice. Though most were just the customary how-are-yous and obligatory holiday greetings once the seasons came and went, one year it turned into emails about the little nothings.

‘I had strawberry cake today,’ it once read. ‘The one we used to share tasted sweeter.’

‘I joined the volleyball team.’

‘Winter here is a little colder. I remember your puffy green jacket.’

‘I don’t know if you want to know…or if I should tell you...but our team won, and we’re going to nationals.’

Somehow, you were managed to be convinced by one of your friends that same week to travel with your own highschool’s volleyball team to assist in the preparation for nationals in Tokyo. It was just a coincidence, you used to reason. You were there, and so was he. There was a hundred other courts his team could have played at, and your priority was assisting your own team in what they needed.

But still, you couldn’t help but wave back and cheer the loudest from your stands when he perfected the block and scored the winning point for the first set.

It was then, where you realized that perhaps Tsukishima Kei wouldn’t just be a stranger.

Kanazawa to Miyagi, but somehow Tokyo became the in-between. Childhood friends to the sort-of friends from the other ends of the country sharing a few scattered memories in slices of strawberry shortcake and random dinosaur trivia from an old man’s outdated encyclopedia.

He was the first to approach you after that match. A hand held out to shake, perhaps to commemorate the evident shift between strangers to friends—but it was nice.

Because after that, friends turned into something more.

Maybe Tokyo really was the middle ground. After you graduated and moved out of your respective cities, Tokyo became the third place of hello.

Then things just slipped into place. He was here, and so were you. He had plans to stay, and you just signed the contract that bound you to the city for the next two and a half years. The apartment right down the hall from yours was recently vacated, and he was looking for a place to stay.

His new work place, coincidentally enough, was just a stop away from the train station closest to your place.

You had always doubted the presence of serendipity and everything that had to dictate with the celestial control of fate, but the ease that came with the relief of him signing the lease the very next week almost seemed to validate what had been just a farfetched something.

From strangers, to friends, to lovers, then to this:

Ten years later, a ring on your finger, and an I do, bound to be said just a little over seven days from now.

Tokyo was kind to the both of you. His mother’s close enough to visit on the weekends, while Kanazawa was just a shinkansen away from Tokyo station. A new apartment with enough space for two, plus maybe an extra, and a bakery right down the street with the best strawberry shortcake made fresh every day.

The wedding’s just a week away. His grandfather, still living in Kanazawa was meant to travel with Akiteru to Tokyo last week, but because plans changed, the both of you were instead tasked with going there yourselves to travel with him. While Tsukishima hesitated, you didn’t. Yes was easy to say in a situation like this. Though your parents had moved to Tokyo some years ago, you were aware that his grandfather didn’t.

The house across the street was still his, while the one you grew up in just now became a summer home your family would frequent to when Tokyo became too swarmed with tourists.

You look at the half-filled contents of the suit case on the floor in front of you. The right side’s meant to hold your clothes, while the left was left bare for Tsukishima’s. You turn and look at him.

“You can just grab the stuff you need me to bring for you and I’ll fold it in. We should probably catch the first train tomorrow if we wanna get there before sundown.”

What comes as a reply is only prolonged silence.

You let what he started stay for a little, but because you had never been the type to be fond in gouging out answers from the blank spaces, you sigh, and break the impending silence before it could get a chance to even settle. “You’re quiet again, Kei.”

When he makes it to the living room, instead of coming back out with a stack of clothes, he stands by the wall with his hands in his pocket. His eyes shift from wall to wall, but skip over you.

Knowing that you’ll just prompt another conversation again the more he keeps his silence, he sighs, swallowing the hesitation and clinging onto the bits of courage that floats by him in the moment. Grasping at the very tips of it, he forces the words out of his mouth. “Are you really coming with me?”

You raise a brow. “Back to Kanazawa? Of course. I’m from there too, you know. Plus I haven’t seen Grandpa in a while.”

He shifts his gaze to the side, thankful for the blur that came with forgetting to slip on his glasses. He’s always had a tendency to give in the moment he looks at you, so the vagueness in the blur was a welcome change. “It’s just for a week,” he mutters. “I think I’ll handle the trip just fine.”

“Plus,” he adds, the hike in the tone of his voice giving away his panic. “—I heard there was a problem with the florists? Maybe one of us needs to go in and fix it ourselves just in case.”

In the ten years you’ve known him, you’ve always considered it a given that you’ve well perceived him by now. In front of you, he’s stammering. While Tsukishima has never been the face to poise and perfection—because at the end of the day he still is just a boy—you knew he only stammered when he was nervous.

Perhaps trying to manipulate the situation through a wordless exchange was his way of doing so. In your head, you chuckle. Tsukishima Kei is many things, and is witty when it counts—but he could never be blunt when it came to the things he was unsure of.

You try to gouge out his truth. Speaking straight to the point, you let him know that there’s no purpose in trying to skirt around. You turn to him, his sweater half folded on your lap. “You know I could have believed what you just said, but,” you pause, giving him a pointed look, “—you’re not even looking at me.”

“Is this about what Bokuto said earlier?”

The way he shifts his weight from one foot to the other awkwardly, confirms your suspicions that that it is about that, before he can muster up the courage to even say it. “Tell me,” you initiate. You’ve never been afraid to speak what needs to be said. “What’s got you so afraid?”

Once more, he hopes for the silence to speak for him. And like before—it doesn’t. Silence was never meant to fill in the blanks. What it did, rather, is add three seconds more on the clock that’s ticking regardless. Tsukishima bets on a timed clock to speak for him, and because you’ve never been the type to shrink at the presence of raw truth, you huff and poke into what obviously hits for him just a little deeper.

“You’re afraid we’ll hit a blank space after we get married, aren’t you?”

He doesn’t look away, but little by little, his body language starts slipping bits and pieces of the truth you’ve already long sensed. “I think I just need to think this through.”

“What?” you scoff. “You planned to go to Kanazawa by yourself for a week to what? Soul search? To decide if you even wanna marry me?”

“I’m sor—“

“That’s what you’re not supposed to say,” you interrupt him. “You don’t say you’re sorry for how you’re feeling, because you’re allowed to feel it how it is, but shit, Kei,” you exhale, pausing to suck in a quick breath. “You couldn’t have just said this earlier?”

He looks away again, the guilt evident on his features. “You’re mad.”

“Do you blame me?”

This time, he turns to you. “No,” he murmurs. “I don’t, but I’m gonna be blunt here—“

“—first time—“

He gives you a pointed look, but in the moment, you don’t really have much in you to care too much.

“I think I need space to clear my head.”

“Sounds like you’re contemplating on whether you wanna stay with me or not,” you respond. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about that.”

Tsukishima’s steady, this time. “Of course I wanna stay with you.”

“But,” you counter. “You aren’t sure if you want to marry me.”

He looks away. “What if—we hit a plateau after.”

“That’s still not an excuse to back out before we even try, Kei,” comes your reasoning.

“You’re right,” he sighs. “It’s not.”

Then it’s you, who shrugs this time, giving in a little and throwing him what you hope he doesn’t see as a lifeline. There’s no comfort found in knowing that an out is a means of mercy when it comes to love. Why should there even be an out?

You settle for just cracking the door open instead. Though it was never locked, the fact that it remained close must have been understood differently by him.

“Let’s go back to Kanazawa separately, then,” you propose. The open suitcase in front of you still has the right half filled with his half folded clothes, so you reach in, taking it out one by one. “You stay with your grandfather and I’ll stay at my parent’s house.”

Tsukishima raises a concern. “He’ll wonder why we aren’t staying together.”

In response, you shrug. “Just make something up then.”

“Is this just a passive aggressive way to say you’re mad at me?”

You scoff. “When have I ever been passive aggressive, Kei? I’ve said shit as it is since day one.”

He flinches, maybe because of what you said or the tone of the deliverance, but either way, you decide you can’t give much of a shit. It’s a given that you’re angry, but because being hurt just paves the path to silence more than lashing out, it’s not much of a surprise that you probably look deflated in front of him.

“What I’m saying is,” you explain. “Let’s go back to Kanazawa as strangers. Do what you gotta do, however you’ve gotta do it to get your head sorted out, and then we’ll talk. I’m not dancing around in circles with you on this. Either we get married next week, or we don’t.”

He panics. “I don’t want to lose you—“

“You’re already talking like you’ve decided that you won’t be at the other end of that aisle, Kei.”

Words feel lacking all of a sudden, so you pause. The absence of the split second brevity has Tsukishima standing still, his breath held, throat dry.

But like always, clarity seems to weave its way through the cracks in the room and find you first. “Yes or no isn’t easy to decide between,” you finally mutter. Eyes to the half folded sweaters you meant to tuck into the other half of the suitcase, you realize that you’ll need to switch to a smaller trolley now because you won’t be needing this much space anyway. “I don’t know what I should tell you, because I don’t know that we’d be having a possible fallout a week before the wedding. But at the same time—I don’t want to say you’re despicable for feeling like that, Kei. It just—“

“—fucking sucks,” you sigh.

“If you feel like you need a week to figure whatever this shit is, then okay,” you nod. “Okay. Let’s be strangers for a week and by the time we’re back in Tokyo, you give me a yes or no and be fucking blunt with it.”

Later that night when you turn your back against him and face the wall, his whisper breaks through the quiet. “Why are you still patient with me about this? You could have just left me.”

You shift, laying on your back and sighing to the makeshift glow in the dark stars stuck to the ceiling of your room. “Because I love you,” you sigh. “Loving someone just means you have to exhaust every other option before even thinking of throwing in the towel.”

He sleeps that night, feeling heavy.

He woke up later that morning, feeling the same too.

In a sense, things admittedly started weird. You woke up before he did this time, when he usually would be the one trying to be quiet when he slipped out of bed. Even though early mornings had never been a thing for the both of you, there was still something unpleasant in waking up to an empty bed.

The sheets on your side were done, and your phone that usually would be pinging with email notifications by now wasn’t there.

It’s odd, he thinks. While he agreed to be strangers for a week, the walk to the train station was the same. Silence was normal, but the five extra inches that added to the distance between the both of you wasn’t. You nodded his way when he pointed at the shinkansen’s direction, and wordlessly would hand him his usual brew when you stopped at the coffee shop just before going in.

Seated beside you in the train, he tries to ignore the urge to poke you on the side and make conversation. Words have always come easy when it came to moments with you, he noticed.

Tsukishima’s aware that he’s always been dubbed as the kind of person who never preferred to say too much, and while that was true—to an extent—he realizes that there is some truth to the saying that silence kills.

You’re seated beside him on the train, eyes to your phone, and earbuds in place. He resorts to just staring at you through his peripherals, caught in between wanting to satiate the want to talk to you by breaking the silence, or keeping it as is.

This is where fear grips him a little tighter. The deal was, as you had pointed out just last night, that the both of you would move through the week pretending to be strangers again. You’d stay on your side of the street, while he stayed in his.

It’s a given that his grandfather’s bound to ask about you, and so in the event that it does happen, you would just spend a few hours with them and pretend like everything was fine.

You made it clear that you’d try to exhaust all the options before resorting to that, though. And it’s easy, he thinks, doing so. It doesn’t take much to fake a phone call from work or a last minute meeting with an old friend that wouldn’t be able to make it to the city for the supposed wedding.

The lines were drawn, and the outline of what was to be expected in the next week was made clear.

He thinks of what you said before you slept. Love, as that one drive that has you exhausting all your options before even thinking of quitting. It’s fair, he thinks. You’ve always been the rational thinker in the relationship.

But then again, he doesn’t doubt your hurt either. A week was lengthy, he realizes, and to act as strangers again just a week before the wedding was a different kind of test when it came to your patience.

Still, he owes you truth.

You’ve always told him to lay things bare, and even though what’s bare is ugly, because love always pushes to try—he stays, doing just that.

Undoubtedly, this is a jump. There’s no question in the fact that the possibility of reaching the peak and coming face to face with a plateau scares him. But still, his thoughts counter, to face a drop that doesn’t guarantee a landing somehow terrifies him even more.

The sound of your phone vibrating snaps him out of his thoughts. Before you answer it, he snags a look of the name written on the screen—Akiteru’s.

Tsukishima sighs, shooting you a cautious stare as you pick up the phone and turn to him.

The tone of your voice is easy, though you look at him, unbothered. “Hey,” you answer. “Just got in the train, so Kei should be calling you in about three hours when we’re there.”

In comes a pause, before you chuckle a little. Unconsciously, Tsukishima scooches in, curious. But before he could get a chance to lean in too close, you pull away a little, looking at him curiously, an eyebrow raised. “I meant to tell you,” he hears you say, and as you look at him, he chooses to hold your stare.

“Kei and I will be staying separately for the week.”

Beside you, he shifts, fighting the urge to turn away and face forward.

Assuming that your flinch afterwards was only a response to what he’s only certain is Akiteru’s sudden outburst, the prior nervousness of his stare shifts into concern. Understanding the are-you-okay that he mouths, you wave him off. “We’re fine,” you laugh. “I just miss staying at the house that’s all, and I’m pretty sure Kei wants to spend quality time with his grandfather.”

You stay silent after that, which truth be told, doesn’t exactly help with his nerves.

“He’s right next to me,” you add. “We’re fine, I swear. Just wanna enjoy Kanazawa in different ways that’s all.”

To put it bluntly, the first day is awkward.

His grandfather’s waiting from outside the gate the second you make it to that familiar street. Nothing much has changed, the two of you notice. The gate’s rusted a little by the edges, and the door’s still got the same chip on the left side he always said he’d take a look at.

“Heard they were cutting down that tree,” his grandfather says, when it’s a little over three hours later and you’re all seated at a local restaurant for dinner. His old friend owned the place, he explained. Low lights, home cooked meals, and a family run business you vaguely remember your father talking about when you were young.

Tsukishima pauses, eyebrows rising in question. “What do you mean that tree?”

��The one you used to run off to,” he laughs.

Elbowing him, you nod towards his grandfather before pointing out, “We met by that tree, you know.”

His grandfather’s quick to responding, laughing at Tsukishima’s perplexed expression. “Seems like your grandfather’s memory is doing better these days than you, boy.”

You suppose that at the end of the day, it shouldn’t have been a big deal that he forgot. You’ve never been one to dwell too deep within the symbolic little nothings that’s bound to come with life. Rationally speaking, maybe you’re just a little miffed because of what he said the night before. And maybe that’s the reason why you’re taking this a little harsher than you would have on a normal day.

But strangers, you remember. Strangers wouldn’t care if the other forgot.

So with that, you shrug. You take another spoonful of the food in front of you and shift your body just slightly to the left—to which Tsukishima took noticed—and leaned forward. Without even saying much, his grandfather already has his attention on you, the smile on his face kind.

He’s always been kind, you remember. With a smile, you choose to keep the peace in the room at bay, willing yourself to ignore Tsukishima’s stare boring holes into the side of your head from beside you.

“Now that I think about it, I don’t remember a lot of people stop by that tree,” you comment, as you take a step into nostalgia.

His grandfather shrugs, absentmindedly nodding his head as he mulls over your word through a spoonful of broth. “It was in the middle of a residential area. Bound to get taken down if you ask me. People nowadays need a place to park.”

This time, you really feel his stare beside you almost intensify. Truth is, you can make sense of what you know he only fears. The point in life was to brave through the unfamiliar to establish a consistency in familiar grounds. To continuously rise from day one, only to hit the peak and possibly come face to face with a plateau instead of something greater than even the height of all highs—you admit that it’s terrifying.

The plateau, that perhaps works sort of like that tree.

It’s been there, so here it still is.

You’ve both been at that tree—at the start—so here you both still are. Side by side back in Kanazawa, sharing a meal like I do, isn’t hanging on the line.

His grandfather’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. “You’re not wearing your ring.”

Tsukishima’s voice is quick to cut into the conversation, his voice smooth. “She just doesn’t wanna lose it.”

You nod along to his lie, undecided with how to feel in regards to how smooth he seemed to have delivered his lie.

“You know, now that I think about it, it’s good that they’re cutting down that tree.”

Tsukishima speaks his mind this time. “Last week, you said you were looking forward to coming back home so you could visit that tree again.”

You don’t look at him when you answer. “I know, but your grandfather has a point. When things change, what else can you do but get rid of it?”

“Oh nothing’s changed,” he laughs across you. “Even before the two of you were born, people would always talk about how it’s just there when the space could have been used for parking.”

“Then why put off cutting it down this long?”

“Who knows,” he laughs. There’s an unfound wisdom in his eyes that read through your soul when he looks at you. “Maybe cutting down what people already see as a permanent fixture will do more harm than good in the long run.”

“Even if it doesn’t contribute anything?”

Tsukishima thinks of his fear, then of the plateau.

Through the rim of the glass, he keeps a steady eye on his grandfather, breath held as the anticipation for his words begin to really settle.

“People these days just see what’s the most obvious from the surface and consider it as the only fault then run with it. Maybe it’s not the tree,” he laughs. “Maybe it’s just the people. They want convenience so they cut off everything around them instead of adjusting to it.”

The food tastes bland in his mouth, suddenly.

“Goes to show how selfish people can get sometimes,” his grandfather finishes, as an afterthought. “A shame, really. That old tree’s done nothing but give people shade.”

At the end of the day, you really had to give his grandfather a lot more credit than what was due.

The second and third day was awkward. Even though you tried to stay inside for most of your day, venturing outside and meeting up with old friends was inevitable. And really, you should have remembered that he often started his day with a couple laps walked around the block.

On day two, he hinted that he could sense something was off. Tsukishima had been a lot more silent lately, he pointed out. First, as just a passing comment, then by the third time he’d bring it up and wouldn’t get too much of a response out of you, there came more emphasis to what he says.

He passed by the tree every time you’d round the street too. It occurs to you that passing through it was a shortcut, and contradicted his prior statements to having a route that catered towards the long way home, but you chose to not comment much about it.

The second day was curiosity, and you figured that you could live at least just a week with it.

The third day, on the other hand, gave you a little more trouble than you had bargained for.

You’re on your way home from an old friend’s house, and ironically enough, both Tsukishima and his grandfather are out by their front door, tending to the weeds of a garden that doesn’t even look remotely grown.

Tsukishima’s the first to look at you.

Stubborn, and frankly intent on upholding your end of the deal in staying strangers, you attempt to wave them off with a passing greeting as you look through your bag, feeling around for the keys to the gate.

“You don’t have to think of an excuse,” you hear him say. “He’s back inside now. It’s just you and me here.”

It’s funny how ever since you’ve made it back to Kanazawa, he’s been the one to break the silence a lot more lately.

You don’t turn. Strangers, you think. The deal was to pretend the other was a stranger.

“Cam,” he calls out again, the desperation in his voice inching more and more out of its shell. “I’m really sorry.”

You turn around, the buried anger getting the best of you in the moment. “You know the more you say that, the more convinced I am that I should just give you back your ring right now and go back to Tokyo alone. You talk like the only thing you’re sure of is the fact that you won’t be marrying me next week, Kei.”

The moment you shift your gaze from the ground to his eyes, a part of you aches at the idea that you may have to bid farewell to gold. Swallowing down the mass of emotions you hope isn’t entirely just made of anger, you steady yourself and sigh.

It hits you that it’s been a long day.

“It’s just you and me here,” you repeat, slowly. There’s a flutter in your heart that tells you it’s still love that stares back when you look at him. “Then why do you feel so far away, Kei?”

He doesn’t sleep that night.

Day three of being strangers, but he hasn’t had anything figured out. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but what only grew was the silence. The distance is really just a few feet away—across the street and through the leaves of that tree that your father would always say he’d get to.

The light from your room is still turned on, though the curtains are drawn.

8PM and it’s early. 8PM, and on a usual day, you’d usually be seated beside him in your Tokyo apartment’s living room, mulling over the nothings that went on in your day.

It’s nice to talk about the rest of the world as if all they’re meant to be is just a passing blur in the background, he thinks. He’s never been much for words, but you were.

Then again, you had always been one for truth.

Reality is, he knows he could always swallow his doubts, walk across the street, cover the distance, and apologize to you with an I’m sorry, that covers all that needs to be addressed in a standard apology. Life can be lived as easy as that. You swallow your own thoughts, adhere to what they say needs to be done in the way they tell you how to do so, and be done with it.

But he knows you just as well as he knows himself.

You’d call him a coward—and truth be told, he’ll think the same.

Present wise—he does think he is a coward.

Tsukishima sighs, knowing that blinking at your closed curtain visible from his window won’t do much of a difference. Begrudgingly, he sits up, grabbing his glasses from the bedside table.

The streets around the neighborhood are quiet this time of night. The perks about living away from the city was the silence, he thinks. As soon as he tugs on a sweater, he makes his way downstairs, carefully, so he doesn’t stir his grandfather he presumes is sleeping on the room across the hall.

He exhales, relieved at the barely audible creak the door clicks to as soon as he shuts it and turns the lock from the outside. The keys, jingling in his pockets, is the only sound that rings in the quiet.

It isn’t lonely, but it isn’t comfortable either.

Kanazawa has always been a town he’s considered as a piece of constant that’s meant to drift inbetween.

Neither like Tokyo or the towns by the outskirts of Okinawa, it stays as is. Twenty years ago, the crack on the sidewalk was there, and now, twenty years later, it remains.

There’s comfort in recognizing constants, Tsukishima admits. The tree just down this road, the crack on the asphalt, and the fact that your room is still the second window to the left visible from his on the second floor.

When he was younger, he remembers he often would stand under your window, caught in between wanting to knock on your door and ask permission from your parents if you could accompany him for the afternoon, or just wait around until you’d come down yourself.

While he left a lot of things on chance, the conscious choice to stay rooted in the spot by your window remained constant.

The gravel under his feet crackle everytime he’d take a step. The moon’s hazy behind the clouds tonight, he muses. While you’d wish for the stars, he found a temporary safety in the midnight clouds. A timelessness felt when it’s midnight, stays.

Before he turns to the corner that would lead home, he stops midway—recognizing the tree from a good few meters away.

There’s a sense of feeling an urgency to let something go, the more he stares at it. Nearing autumn, the colors start to change, and just like that, he’s reminded of the impermanence in life.

As the earth eventually changes throughout the years, he fears that perhaps in love—it would too.

“You’re out late,” is the first thing Tsukishima hears as soon as he enters the room.

From the genkan, he peers over the shelf, noticing the lights from the kitchen is what floods into the dim living room. Slipping on his house slippers and making his way around the corner, Tsukishima gets a feel of the warmth that’s radiating from the familiarity of the space.

After his grandmother had passed, his grandfather stayed in Kanazawa. Though his mother often expressed her desire for him to move with the rest of the family in Tokyo, every time, he’d only wave them off and say that there’s too much rooted here for him to just up and leave.

Walking into the kitchen, his grandfather’s the first to raise a mug his way and offer a smile. “I’d ask you if everything’s fine, but I think I’ll just wait around and see if you’re even willing to tell me.”

Tsukishima chuckles airily. “Sounds like you wanna ask anyway.”

He takes a slow sip. “Okay then,” he nods, smiling like he’s just struck a deal. “First question is—are you okay?”

In response, Tsukishima smiles, pulling the chair and taking the seat across his. He nods. “’Course I am.”

His grandfather’s eyes don’t leave him. “You’re not wearing the ring, and neither is Cam.”

Suddenly feeling like he’s caught in between a blocked exit and the spotlight, Tsukishima freezes, but wills himself not to look away. “Just needed some space, that’s all.”

“To think?”

He sighs. “To reconsider.”

“Ahh,” the older man sighs. “Cold feet. Pretty normal, if you ask me.”

He raises a brow in question. “It’s normal?”

“To be nervous, yeah,” his grandfather laughs. “But looks like it’s a different case for you.”

Tsukishima doesn’t respond, his eyes fixated towards a spot on the wall that feeds more into the blank space of his thoughts than anything more.

“You’re afraid,” Tsukishima hears, and as soon as the retaliation he tries to string together at the very last minute don’t come—he realizes the core of all the chaos in his head is meant to be just like that—

Blank.

“What are you so afraid of, boy?”

In the silence, he lets the rawness of his truth slowly spill. “What if I hit a plateau after this?”

His grandfather wastes no second in countering. “How is it life if we just keep climbing? What’s the point in doing all that work if we never get rest?”

Tsukishima laughs. “You know, by that logic it can just go the other way around too.”

He settles in his seat, trying to appreciate the silence instead of looking for company in the noise, before he adds, “What if we decide we don’t love each other anymore?”

“That’s not all there is to a plateau,” he laughs. “It’s a valid fear, but being afraid isn’t all there is after you marry someone.”

“Then what’s there?”

With a smile, his grandfather leans back, raises the mug to his lips, and relaxes—his eyes looking fondly at a faded photograph hung beside the wall clock. “Everyday,” he answers. “What’s there after I do is just everyday.”

Sensing that his grandfather means to say more, he chooses to retain his silence. Sighing softly, his grandfather keeps his smile steady as he continues to speak. “Everyday you wake up. You roll over in bed, you think about the checklist you do to consider a day done, then you come home, eat a meal, rest a little and start the whole day over the next day. Everyday’s like that.”

He shifts, leaning forward with his arms crossed supporting his weight on the table as he eyes his grandson with a smile. “Best part is, you can do all that with someone you love. Makes the boring part of the plateau a lot more bearable.”

“You wake up with them and complain about how boring the rest of your day will be, then come home and eat a meal with them. Wash the dishes, share the silence, and just go to bed knowing you’ll wake up with somebody.”

The smile on his face is honest, then he shrugs. “It’s nice, though. The plateau after you hit a certain point in life is just inevitable, Kei. You can either complain about life alone or complain about it with somebody. At least there will be two pairs of slippers by the genkan waiting for you everytime you come home. You’ll say you’ve made it home and someone will greet you. You’ll roll over in bed at 2am and someone will be there with you. The point of climbing in life is to get somewhere, not ascend past the norm.”

Tsukishima stays quiet, pondering over the truth in his grandfather’s words. “So life’s just meant to stay in the middle?” he asks, slowly coming into terms with his grandfather’s redefinition of the plateau. “Life’s meant to find a consistency in everyday,” he corrects.

A few moments pass before he stands back up, pointing to the counter with a thermos. He knows it’s yours. The old one that your mother refused to throw away, because there’s a crack by the lid and a couple faded sailor moon stickers stuck by the side.

“Look at that,” Tsukishima hears. He turns his head just in time to see the old man offer him a patient smile, the message in his eyes delivered without a hitch. “That old thing’s seen a couple of decades, but it still gets to you when you need it, right?”

It’s not so bad to have an old thing be your constant, right?

Twenty minutes after his grandfather climbs back to his room upstairs, Tsukishima’s seated on the side of the table beside the window. Peeking through the half-opened blinds, he can still see that the light from your room is still flicked on.

Without mulling over the decision, he takes his phone out, scrolling through the contacts until he taps your name. A swipe without too much pressure, because even his thumb’s memorized where your name is by now. Kind of like muscle memory, he supposes.

Bypassing the unannounced rules about what to do as the strangers you had claimed from the start of this week, it results to the lack of hesitation as he types a quick text and presses send without a thought that would counter it.

I love you, it reads.

From his spot in the kitchen, he leans back and smiles, pouring himself a cup of the tea he knows you brewed yourself on the nights where he can’t sleep.

The lights from your room stay on for a few more moments before it dims, but before the metaphoric silence could take root, the screen of his phone lights up.

Stop walking around at night. Drink the tea and try to get some sleep.

Exhaling almost in relief, it’s the slow beating of his heart that resettles him back into the love he’s known everyday.

It’s not quite the end, but it isn’t exactly somewhere unpleasant either.

Two days before you’re meant to return to the city, instead of spending the day in your room—like you had initially planned—you somehow found yourself in the passenger seat of his grandfather’s old car, with a grocery list in hand.

You sigh, understanding what his grandfather’s trying to do.

As you look down, there’s nothing much written in the grocery list. He had complained about some back pain earlier, followed up by his insistent request of desperately needing his groceries done so when Akiteru was to arrive later on, dinner would be taken care of.

Beside you, with his hands on the wheel, Tsukishima sighs. “We could have just ordered in food for dinner. It’s just Akiteru coming,” he mumbles.

Keeping your eyes to the window to your left, you shrug. “He likes making the ordinary special, I guess.”

Tsukishima stays silent after that, mentally thankful for the green light and the empty roads. The more stops, the longer silence would stay. And even after the sort of middle ground from the night before, he doesn’t know what to say to you.

After making a quick turn, he pulls up into the parking lot and kills the engine. Unbuckling his seatbelt, he turns to you, with an expectant look. “You can just stay here if you don’t wanna go in with me,” he offers. “It’s a short list, I can be in and out in a bit.”

You wave him off, already slinging on your bag and opening the car door—the list on your hand. “It’s alright. I think I’m more familiar with this area than you are, so we can just meet back in the car in thirty minutes if that’s okay with you.”

“You don’t need me to come with you?” he raises a brow.

You shake your head no, but upkeep the smile on your face anyway as you exit the car and close the door.

Something about what you say sticks with him, the more he thinks about it.

He can distinguish the hesitation laced each of your decisions. You look past him, but not exactly at him. You speak to him, but keep the conversations short. Though conversation was rare between the both of you this past week, the times that you did speak to him, your words often were clipped short.

It’s your means of upkeeping your end of the deal, he realizes.

You’ve always been one for communication, but then again, patience can only stretch so much.

He respects your wish for distance and walks the opposite way from the grocery store, towards a building he doesn’t really known. It’s a gallery, he realizes. Three steps past the entrance, he notices that he’s one of the few that’s in the room.

Traditional artwork line the wall, hung in frames that have rusted throughout time.

Tsukishima stares, eyes drawn to the pieces of art he recognizes from the few scattered memories in his childhood that relate to his time in the city.

A fieldtrip, when he was seven. He remembers leaving the house upset over the yellow hat he had to wear, and the rain boots his teacher wouldn’t let him change out of. Unlike the present, rain was present that day. He stood beside you in line, and had to tilt his head up at the piece of art he always thought was the prettiest out of the bunch.

And now, almost two decades later, he still thinks the same.

He smiles at the memory, finding the comfort of returning to what’s familiar, pleasant.

As if caught by an epiphany, and suddenly enveloped in a sense of a rediscovered home, here, within a room that’s familiar, he finds purpose in the permanence of love.

Love, that’s never meant to be stretched into the likeness of what the poets declare as the absolute form of love after “I do.”

Staring at the piece of art with the rusting frames, the strokes within the canvas still depict the same story. It still is beautiful.

It’s doesn’t become more—but it stays as is.

And maybe that’s what his grandfather was trying to convey.

To fear a certain phase in love is something that comes and goes, but it often never stays. It can linger, but eventually, it too, fades.

What stays is what’s rooted.

Primarily, just you. Truly, just love.

That tree in that old street, these paintings on the walls, and the kind of serenity that washes over him at the thought of you.

The fear in life comes in the form of thinking that beyond the peak lays a plateau. Beyond “I do,” what’s next to come is love, dwindling until “I don’t love you anymore,” is the only thing left to be said.

It’s fear, that spoke to him the past few weeks, so this time, as he gives in, he listens to love.

It’s quiet.

But through the smoke in the room, the message that’s meant to deliver truth comes in full clarity. Illuminated, it appears before him as it is. A painting that’s struck him as beautiful then and now, and the thought of you as the face that’s always been the first to greet him every morning for more than just a few years now.

An old man stands not too far from him, hands clasped behind his back as he stares—with a smile on his face—at a similar painting on the wall. Sensing Tsukishima’s presence, he looks over and redirects the smile his way. “Been coming here for years, and looking at this still feels the same.”

Poking at the doubts, Tsukishima responds, “Are you afraid that it won’t get old?”

The gentleman laughs, though soft enough so it doesn’t echo too much in the halls. The joy lingers around Tsukishima, on the other hand. “To have something grow old with you isn’t a bad thing. Day one, this piece was beautiful, and now, almost forty years later, I look at it and think the same too.”

A beat of silence passes, but the man speaks once more.

“My wife, when she was alive, showed me this piece. Maybe I look at this and still find it beautiful after all these years because I think of her, but I don’t think trying to focus on that matters much. The feeling’s the same, even if it grew old.”

Reciprocating the older man’s goodbye with a nod to the head, it’s then where he laughs, a little bit more of the truth unraveling as each moment comes and goes. Thinking of his words, he dwells on its meaning.

Standing there, alone in the museum hall, the smoke clears, and he presents himself his words of blended truth and patience.

Love is timeless, his thoughts say. The plateau after the peak is as possible as the drop, but life’s meant to be lived in the lows and in betweens as much as the highs. Time moves in waves, and perhaps love doesn’t always grow stagnant. It can be timeless, even though the frames rust. His hair will grey, and maybe you’ll stop linking your pinky with him beneath the sheets during the rainy season’s thunderstorms, but the root of love stays.

Within the plateau, time will move, and you’ll both grow old, but the taste of the tea you’ll brew for him will remain the same.

And thirty minutes later, when he makes it back to the parking lot with you waiting by the door, the love that steadies his beating heart will be the same too.

Steady, present, and timeless.

Eyeing the dashboard, you’re the first to break the silence. “Why’d you buy a postcard?”

Rolling into a stoplight, he eases on the brakes and shrugs. “Lived here for so long, and I don’t even own a postcard from here.”

“Me neither,” you blink.

A couple minutes pass, and the car’s rolling again, but he misses a turn. Assuming that he’s just not used to the usual route, you stay quiet—until about he pulls up to a familiar street.

Parked to the side, through the windshield, you find yourself face to face with a familiar tree. “Kei.” He hums.

The coming autumn has a few leaves beginning to change its colors, you notice. The summer hues, unbalanced, as bits of red begins to bleed through the green. “You were supposed to turn there, not here.”

He shifts the gear into park, then takes his hands off the wheel, leaning back. “I know.”

It’s quiet after that, but it isn’t all that unpleasant either.

This is the part where the questions begin to poke at you, the what-ifs in love let out in the open as you voice a little bit of your vulnerability. And because the truth is daunting, you hope he understands you through the metaphors. “Do you really think they’ll cut it down?”

He doesn’t allow the silence to take more than a moment. “I think so,” he nods his head.

“It’ll be good though, I think,” you add, nodding your head.

It’s quiet in the room even though the words of your truth coaxes the unhealed wound to resurface. As it comes into light, it doesn’t sting.

Sitting shoulder to shoulder beside him in the car, the tree that witnessed the first hello stays rooted, and watches.

He doesn’t turn to you as he speaks, but in a way, you feel as if a farewell was the finale that was meant to be delivered somehow. “It’s good,” he starts. “Letting go of something that needs to be let go of.”

Tokyo

Tsukishima’s the first to speak.

“I’m not good with words,” he starts.

There’s a hush in the crowd, so you stay with it, knowing you’ll only add to the silence should you choose to respond. It wasn’t your turn anyway, so you will yourself to be still and listen.

“Hey Cam,” Tsukishima continues, choosing to begin his vow with a hello. “I think a lot about what love’s supposed to have meant, mean, or eventually mean in the long run. I thought too much about it to the point where it…” he trails off, blinking at the piece of paper before flicking his eyes up to you with a slight shrug. “—to the point where love began to scare me.”

For a brief moment, he closes his eyes, confident in the fact that when he opens them, he knows he’ll see the world in clarity this time. With the smoke cleared and the scattered pieces of all his doubts set in order, the words of his truth may not speak of the most tender poem of love—but within the lines lies his truth.

As he lays his truth on you, he holds a breath and lets it all go. “I wanna wash the dishes with you for the rest of my life,” he laughs, exhaling softly, his shoulders shaking a little. “Never occurred to me how much of a liar the downside of your thoughts are when you listen to everything that isn’t love,” he continues.

Your shoulders relax, and even through the blur of the veil, you can tell his eyes are steadily watering.

“I’m sorry,” he says, the microphone just barely picking up what he says. You nod your head anyway, wishing you were holding his hands instead of the bouquet. Reassurance comes in many forms, but you know he’s always been the type to receive it well through physical touch.

A kiss on the cheek, your head on his shoulder, or your hands squeezing his. But the smile you give him suffices for now, you think.

“I wanna wash the dishes with you for the rest of my life. I’ll wash, and you dry. Nothing much happens in our day usually, but nothing has to. I’ll listen to you talk about how shit the traffic is in the city, because I know you’ll listen to me talk about the same complaints I have from Monday to Friday anyway.”

You realize he’s written his vows in the back of a postcard—the one you saw on his dashboard a few days ago, from Kanazawa.

He sniffles a little then looks up, laughing to himself at how emotional he’s getting. Allowing more than just truth to trickle out slow is a part of love too, he realizes, so with a soft laugh, he lets the tears be and speaks again. “What needed to be let go of was let go of,” he exhales, like he’s been holding his breath for this long.

In a sense, maybe he has. Sometimes fear grips you tightly enough that it shifts your point of view from one thing to another. What’s love, becomes fear. Then what’s fear, becomes the smoke that buries the core of truth too deep within the haze.

“I let go of the thought the thought that after marriage, if nothing great would come then that would be the end of love,” he breathes. “I stared at that tree and thought of Grandpa’s words again and again then wrote my apology and I love you on the back of a postcard that only had one a couple of blank lines at most.”

He waves it for you, then to the crowd, to see. The words, jumbled up together look almost incomprehensible written so closely together, but in a way, you have a feeling that he’s just speaking the rest of his truth as it comes in the moment.

The truth in love, you realize, is that its truth comes, fully unraveled the moment the initial plan falls apart.

He puts down the postcard, and just looks at you.

“There’s a lot I don’t think I will ever understand when it comes to love, but maybe I’m here to just feel it and not try to decipher it.” He pauses, ignores the few tears that roll down, and shrugs his shoulders, admitting to himself that the truth in his love is the first thought that comes.

“Love doesn’t have to the greatest,” he tells you. “I just wanna wash dishes with you for the rest of my life and hear about how traffic was unbearable.”

You smile, and your assurance reaches him.

“I think that counts as love too,” he finishes, the smile on his face tender.

As he leans in after I do, he murmurs a question in your ear that you’ve been expecting since the start.

You could have just left, he said. How did you deal with me and still choose to stay?

Your answer was said without a hint of hesitation. With a shrug, and an honest smile, you told him, “Because I love you.”

“I think we both had to let go of the thought that to love always means to have the biggest reasoning behind it. We do things for love, and because of love. That’s just how it is,” you shrugged.

Oddly enough, it’s in that same exact moment where he remembers Bokuto’s question from that dinner a week and some days ago.

How does it feel? he recalls, and even though words have never found him first nor met him in the middle easy, he gathers what he can and just settles on the conclusion that it just feels like love.

Wherein love, is this.

An identical band on his and your finger, and the taste of I do pleasant on the tongue. I love you, as a truth that’s easy to fathom and healing to hold, and the fear of what comes next just a passing thought that goes as soon as it comes.

Later that evening his grandfather sits him down and asks him what he really thinks about why people have been putting off cutting down that tree for a few decades now.

With a laugh, the hesitation that often turns decisions is made clear to him. “You know I think that people would decide things and think they’re so solid on it before even being face to face with it. The second they get to that tree with a chainsaw, I promise you they changed their minds. You think you go there and cut off or let go of one thing, then realize you’re cutting off something else in the end. They go back to what’s been there and realize that it’s not the problem at all.”

Tsukishima sighs, and his grandfather watches, the smile on his face easy. It’s like watching some emerge from a smoked out room, he thinks. Clarity’s always been a blessing, and he’s glad his grandson’s finally found it.

“Sometimes going back to the start is the one thing you need to be reminded that it’s worth it to keep going.”

“Sounds like you’re not talking about the tree,” his grandfather comments. Looking at you, Tsukishima smiles. “You could say that too.”

298 notes · View notes

sxfik · 3 years

Note

Helloooo. Lemme start by saying how awesome fantastic amazing your fics are. I have a solhwi ask/prompt if it's not a problem. What would the study group's reaction be to established solhwi + bonus for prof kim and yangs reactions. Any headcanon or fic you can write about this please.

wicked love, leaves me blind

read on ao3 • masterlist

a/n: aaaa thank you so much for the kind words and the request! there's slight canon divergence in this and i decided on a more head canon format for this fic. this turned out kinda longer than expected but AAA my mind really ran with this prompt lmaooo. without much further adieu, i hope you like this <333

it's been 2 weeks since joon hwi confessed to her, running to her house in the middle of the night, panicked and afraid after the news of lee man ho hunting down professor yang

after the man had run from the scene, joon hwi was sure that he'd come back to his house, not afraid to hurt anyone on the way there. and in an instant, he started running, taking off towards her house without a second thought

by time he had reached her house, he was drenched in sweat, his heart thundering out of his chest in panic, in fear and in hope, that she was all right. he knocked frantically on the door of her house, hoping, praying that she was alright.

and to his relief, sol opened the door, her hair put up in the familiar messy bun. she yawned as she opened the door languidly, still wearing the hanguk law school sweatshirt he had once loaned her during a sleepless night of studying.

"han joon hwi? what are you doing here, it's lat-"

he lunged for her without a thought, gathering her in his arms and pressing her close to his body. she's alive, she's okay, chorused in his head as he shuddered out a breath of relief. she let out a soft oof but relaxed into him, her arms coming around his waist in a familiar way

he pulled away after what seemed like not long enough of a hug, and maybe it was the adrenaline, or the pure euphoria of finding her safe and in one piece that pushed him towards her lips, kissing her with fevor.

and after a shocked moment, she kissed him back, drinking him in, tugging him closer, desperate for more, more, more

and the rest was, well, history. it didn't take long after for the two of them to confess to each other, understanding that they needed each other in their life.

so it's been 2 weeks since han joon hwi confessed to her. really, they meant to keep their relationship secret. in the midst of their fight against assemblyman ko, the case against lee man ho and the mystery of what really happened the night of the hit-and-run case, they agreed that it was easier to keep it under wraps

after all, it was a new relationship to both of them. it wasn't like they hadn't dated other people, but what sol and joon hwi had was a carefully built friendship that was founded in trust and care for each other. and making it public, could only do them more damage as they become leverage against each other if their case goes south.

they only had one, very, very small, problem.

they were awful at keeping their hands off each other

alone time was very scarce for the both of them. with joon hwi being highly ranked, he was always pulled into every study session and every discussion in the school. not to mention, he had his own studies to maintain, alongside working at the legal clinic and helping professor yang with the mystery that had plagued the school.

kang sol's case was no different. she had to slave over her assignments, spending every spare moment at the school library, pouring over her text books. the moment not spent there was split between working to gather money for her mother and byeol, the legal clinic and assemblyman ko's case. not to mention her digging into kang dan's whereabouts as much as she could.

every single time they had together, there were too many people around for their tastes. during their busiest days, they had settled for subtle touches and stealing glances at each other whenever possible

so they spent their spare moments, huddled in the corridors, catching up on each other's days, making out and getting some time alone.

they'd make all kinds of excuses to leave early or walk each other to their dorm rooms, trying to maximize all their time with each other. every time they made to each other's rooms, they'd linger at the entrance, trying to see each other for just one more second.

and it was no wonder that when they first got caught, sol was pinned against the stairwell wall, joon hwi's lips buried in her neck. his fingers ghosted the hem of her shirt as she was pulled him closer to her and then...

clang!

the two broke apart, startled at the noise, their faces red. joon hwi's usual bangs were disheveled, sol's messy bun now loose and her hair cascading down her shoulders.

the two of them turned their head towards the noise only to find ye-beom and bok-gi, the latter's mouth gaping open like a fish. ye-beom on the other hand, stopped sucking on his lollypop, eyes wide as they looked at each other then looked back at the couple who were caught red handed.

bok-gi's hands were still frozen as the plate that fell from his hands lay at his feet and for what felt like eternity, there was absolute silence.

and then chaos.

"you two- when did you- how- what-" both of them started firing their questions rapid-fire.

the couple, who's faces were strawberry red, shushed them the best they could, looking around frantically to ensure no one else would here the commotion.

it took around 10 minutes for the boys to calm down, still reeling from what they witnessed

slowly, the couple explained that they were dating, and satisfying some of their curiosity before letting the boys go, with the stern warning of never repeating any of this information to anyone.

predictably, their whole study group knew about sol A and joon hwi the very next day.

of course, while ye-beom and bok-gi were huge gossips, they made sure the news didn't reach outside their sphere.

the next day, sol and joon hwi were the first ones to walk into the hideout, attempting to put up their "we're best friends! no relationship here!" facade up early, while the rest of the group quietly shuffled in.

they were good for the first 5 minutes (in reality they didn't last even 2 minutes) but joon hwi just can't keep his eyes off of her, especially when she's working through arguments for the case

the lovesick display lasts about... 10 minutes before Sol B stands up from her chair abruptly, causing everyone to jump in their seats.

as always, her face is neutral, but she spins to face ji ho, as the boy adjusted his glasses on his face so he could look up at her

"you own me 20 dollars" she simply stated at him, her hand outstretched

"what, no way i'm paying that" ji ho moved back, his face shocked that she even remembered

"you bet that they would take 3 months to confess, and i bet at 6 months— "

"it's been way longer than 6 months!"

"mine was closer"

"i think," ye-seul interjected as she took her seat at the table, heading back from her project work for professor kim's class, "that you both owe me 20 dollars. from what I remember, i bet that they would take longer!"

a chaotic clamber erupted as each member argued who owed who money, who bet on what,

"yah, ye-seul, how could you bet on me like that!" Sol interrupted the clamor, spinning to look at her best friend in shock and disbelief.

"sorry, unnie. it was too tempting of an offer for me to turn down" she replied, not looking the least bit apologetic.

joon hwi grinned at sol A as she looked around flabbergasted at their friends, before he grabbed her idle hand and held it up.

"just so we can fend off any confusion, sol is now my girlfriend. sorry we didn't get to tell you earlier, but to make up, we'll treat you to a dinner after all this mess is offered."

their group cheered at that, never being the one to turn down an offer for free food

it was bliss for the couple after that, and relief too. they could both agree that keeping a relationship under wraps was much harder than they could handle, with so much of this being new to them alongside the chaos of their lives

telling their friends took the pressure off, at least allowing themselves to indulge in each other without having to be extra careful of who was watching.

theirs was a blinding love. it was blinding bliss, it was peace.

bonus +1:

professor kim was a busy woman, but she always had the time for her students. taking the time to know each and every one of them was something she took pride in as a teacher.

but out of all her students, the study group lead by han joon hwi consisted of her favorite students that she taught. as a result of professor seo's unfortunate death and the reveal of everything that assemblyman ko had orchestrated, professor kim found herself around those kids more and more.

nevertheless, it was another day, another case to navigate at the legal clinic. it was a busy afternoon at hanguk law school, and professor kim's star students, sol and joon hwi huddled together trying to find the best way for the property case at hand

she had always had a soft spot for those two, ever since their class first semester when sol A blurted out a judgement and joon hwi, out of nowhere supported her. of all her years of teaching, she hadn't found a duo that was more hardworking, passionate and loyal than the two of them

Sol A was not her brightest student but she had tenacity and passion that more than made up for it. She could spot the hardworking girl, hunched over her textbooks hours after every other student had left.

Professor Kim had always found that some of the brightest students in her class would make for the worst in the field. because, being a lawyer wasn't about memorizing the codes or adhering to the rigid structure that many assumed the law to be. it was to offer kindness, compassion and understanding that they were humans first, before they could be judged by the law

and she knew that Sol A was one such girl who had that. She had watched as she defended Yang, even when the detectives and prosecutor were trying to close up the case and force him down as the perpetrator. even when joon hwi was accused, Sol stood by his side, pursing every route possible to prove his innocence. At every turn, she stood up for those who needed sympathy and kindness from the law; for those that the law would have hurt.

Joon Hwi was no different. the first time she saw him, she assumed him to be a cold, callous genius who had no time for anyone but himself. but oh, how wrong she was. Joon hwi was quiet the opposite. Even while being a generally reserved student, he had an inviting energy surrounding him that made every one like him, despite the intense competition at school

from the first day, it was clear he wasn't here for the marks or the validation of his teachers: it was passion and self motivation that drove him. it was clear that he was built to practice law, his mind was always sharp for legal terms and loopholes. but joon hwi always went the extra mile for his friends, always gave an extra hand to help, even when they didn't necessarily need it.

she could see it in him during Ye-Seul's case, eager to help her. she could see it when Ji Ho's father's suicide case came out, how eager he was to help and comfort his roommate.

but most of all, she could see it with Sol A. she wasn't sure when she had noticed their closeness, but she could see them walking the halls together, a smile spread across both their faces or them arguing across the table at the legal clinic, trying to work out the best method.

she could see it in the way Joon Hwi watched Sol, an almost lovesick smile on his face when she smiled or when she finally got the answers she was searching for. Professor Kim also knew, from her years of watching professor yang and prosecutor bae dance around each other, that it would be rare if they confessed to each other

so it was very odd when she looked across from her stack of papers to find joon hwi holding sol's hand as he flipped through the case file in front of him, both of them hyper focused into the details

maybe it was pure curiosity, maybe it was a taste for chaos that motivated her to call out "oh, are you two finally dating?" expecting their flustered and embarrassed reactions

but instead, she was met with a beaming smile from Joon Hwi that answered all the questions she had. Kang Sol on the other hand was left glaring and sputtering at her new boyfriend.

it was funny and gleeful, watching two of her favored students find a new life together, forging a new path.

and it was also pure relief for her, that she wouldn't have to deal with another professor yang and prosecutor bae situation

bonus +2:

the cold wind whipped around them as the couple accompanied professor yang back to campus. another night, another mystery, another trip to the police station to give witness statements

tonight was no different as the truth of the hit-and-run case started revealing itself, and the professor had accompanied the two students in silence, contemplative of all that has happened, the puzzle pieces slowly clicking together

professor yang was never meant to be a professor, in fact he hates the title itself. what he was meant for was to interrogate, to dig up clues and find out exactly who the culprit is and use the law to prove why they were guilty. for him, one's feelings did not matter, it was always about the evidence presented in front of him and how it could be interpreted.

it didn't mean he didn't care about his students, quite the opposite. it just meant that he wasn't the nurturing type as professor kim was. the one to always meddle in student affairs or keep track of how his students were doing outside of class

but with the two students walking beside him, they were the ones that he wanted to see succeed. they were the ones he was the most proud of as they presented their cases in public, finding their own ways to fight against injustice.

he was proud of them and in his heart, he knew it reminded him of a certain set of school mates, ones that were attached at the hip, a regret he has carried with him until he met her again on the court floor.

so maybe it was the deliriousness of all they had went through together or pure stupidity that made him pause in the tracks. his students continued on for a moment but then paused in their tracks, turning around to see what had stopped their professors.

"Kang Sol A." he nodded towards her.

"Han Joon Hwi." he nodded towards him.

"Congratulations on your new relationship"

he paused after, looking up at his students, both of them wide eyed that Professor Yang of all people, congratulated them on this.

and then, as if making it worse, he smiled.

Kang Sol's mouth dropped open, her hands reaching up to her eyes to rub them as if she was hallucinating what she saw.

Han Joon Hwi was incredulous, blurting out "Professor, have you been taking methamphetamines again?"

"Professor Yang has taken WHAT?" Sol whipped her head around, the sight of her professor expressing glee was already too much for her to handle but the news that he has taken meth just drove her head into overdrive.

the two were stuck in their positions, as their professor moved forward, brushing past them as if this event had never happened.

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sylverstorms · 3 years

Text

Lavinia x MC (Cynthia) ----Cold Heat

Words: ~1100

Rating: Teasing at Mature, but probably T for Teens.

A/N: An alternate version of the bedroom scene with Lavinia at her Season 1 Finale. Ice she may be, but the passion between her and MC ignites.

When you see her seated in the armchair of your room –legs crossed, chin cocked, bathed in silvers and whites by the moonlight, every bit the ice queen she is— you don't know whether you want to want to kiss her or yell at her.

Probably both.

Definitely both.

“Hey there.” That is how Lavinia greets you, all cool smiles and roguish charm, as if the past five hours never occurred at all.

As if you didn't sit in that chamber, helpless, watching her fight a Faerie and get hurt for your sake, only to eventually realize it was all part of her plan. Your anguish, part of her damn plan.

“Huh. I thought you'd be all the way to New York by now.” the biting way the words leave your mouth, you may as well have told her to screw off.

“Oh. You're...mad at me.” Lavinia states. It isn't really a question.

“Of course not, I love being kept in the dark.” you scoff. You don't even bother turning the lights on as you root yourself there, against your door, as far away from her as possible.

“Curses.” she whispers under her breath. “Look, I know I should have told you about the... trickier parts of the plan.” You wish you didn't feel as weak as you do, looking into her icy eyes. “But everything worked out, in the end.”

“I guess it's fine since it worked out, yeah?” you ask, no small amount of sarcasm in your voice. “It's alright that I had to sit there and watch you get hurt over and over again.”

Lavinia's lips part soundlessly at that. For a moment, she appears speechless.

“I never imagined...” she trails off. Pauses. “I didn't think it would be this difficult for you, watching me take a few hits.”

You shake your head and exhale loudly. You'd rather not linger on that incident any longer, or the horrible feeling in your chest will remain lodged there and cost you your sleep.

“Cynthia.” Lavinia calls your name gently.

You hate how easily it breaks down your walls to hear her voice get this soft for you. Only for you. Try as you might to hold onto your anger as a means of fighting off your vulnerability...

“Cynthia, come here.”

You lose the fight. Your will crumbles. You are already pushing off the wall and walking towards her extended hand, like a ship lost at sea following the distant glow of a lighthouse.

Lavinia's fingers are cool when they wrap around yours, an anchor, steady, guiding you to sit in front of her, between her legs. Facing forward as you are, you can't see her beautiful face, only guess at what expression she must be making right now. Perhaps that is the whole point.

Those same fingers then move up your arms, ghost over your shoulders, tangle in your hair. You hold back the tremor threatening to wrack your body at her touch.

“...should I keep going?” she asks, chin hovering above your shoulder. Part of you wishes it tucks down, against your skin.

Tempted as you are to turn, you instead breathe out and leave yourself in her hands with a quiet “Yes.”

Lavinia rolls your head back, slowly, carefully, until it is resting on her shoulder. Deft thumbs press on the knots of tension at the base of your neck, down your shoulders...

A hitched sigh escapes your lips. You so willingly surrender to this fire the queen of ice kindles in you.

The whole world narrows down to just the two of you in the dark, basking in your proximity.

If this is a dream, you don't want it to end.

Lavinia massages slow little circles into the softer parts of your shoulders. It takes all you've got not to moan openly into your room.

God, the feel of her hands on you...

“Still good?” she asks, breath caressing the tip of your ear, her voice now taking a deeper, huskier quality.

A shiver echoes through you just from that.

“Yes...” you sound so breathless.

One of Lavinia's hands runs down your side to rest on your waist, while the other guides your curly hair away from your neck so she can lean closer. It all feels so surreal; you are relaxed against her yet tension lingers in your stomach and thighs, everything is too much and too little at the same time.

When you breathe, you breathe in the chill of her magic and spicy perfume. Her right hand is like a cold burn, dancing at the hem of your shirt. Her left comes to the column of your throat, as if to cradle or choke you at your request.

“You're so tense.” she husks in your ear.

A shaky exhale leaves you.

“...want me to help you relax?” Lavinia's lips trace the shell of your ear with the words now. The sensation is downright sinful.

The fingers on your belly tease just underneath the waistband of your slacks and oh God if she goes any lower right now—

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you think perhaps you shouldn't be doing this with her when you haven't even kissed yet, haven't even sorted out what the two of you are. But you also need it, need her, really, really bad...

“Lavinia...” She presses a little tighter against you at the sound of her name, falling like a prayer from your lips.

“Yeah?” comes out almost as a sigh against your neck.

This is bad, because it's too good, because it arouses you too hard to know the queen of ice is as affected by this as you are. You feel her lips on the soft spot underneath your jaw and her fingers creep lower still...

Until a loud sound from downstairs has you both springing up and apart.

You only then recover enough of your mind to realize your friends and brother are still up, still moving about the house. Your door isn't even locked –they could walk in on you and Lavinia at any moment and it will already be bad enough without catching you in a compromising position.

Lavinia huffs a chuckle and runs a hand through her hair. You mirror the gesture, teeth sunk in your bottom lip as you straighten your clothes.

“I better go.” she says, a coy little smile playing at her full lips. Oh, how you want them on your own...

Lavinia opens the window and swings one long leg out. You approach to bid her goodnight, then pause once you look directly into her darkened eyes.

Her hand reaches for yours and softly tugs you forward. Her cool mouth lands on the side of your head, over your curly locks.

“Think of me.” she says. Winks.

And then she's gone, leaving you alone in your room and taking the thrill of her presence with her.

If one thing is for certain, it's that you'll think of her.

It's not like you dream of anything but her these days, anyway.

Ko-Fi

#lavinia le guin #lavinia x mc #lavinia lovestruck #lovestruck voltage #lovestruck ever after academy #fanfiction #creative writing #ice queen of our hearts

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greenficsworld · 2 years

Text

• Book • Part 9

gwi nam x reader

( author : sorry for posting late i have a bunch of modules to finish and a bunch of clothes to fold because kakaselpon ko daw at tamad daw ako pero this is it , this is really really is it is it ☘️😃 enjoy )

•

( Readers Pov )

I tugged his sleeves trying to stop him even onjo was trying to stop him but he only threw us backwards i groaned when i landed to the ground i arch my back from the pain he did the girls helped me to stand up as the guys were helping cheong san while he and suhyeok were fighting...

I stand up looking at the both them as he also threw suhyeok down to the ground as he started talking ....

" who are you " he said , " what the hell are you , are the one from the one heart club " daesu said to him..

" it's me yeah , you dont know ?? , how the f do you not know me !? " he said to them quite angry ...

" i know you , i said it many times before , you are the bullies gopher " cheong san tells him gwi nam look at him angrily ...

" if you said the one more time , I'll kill you " he said to him raising his hands making us step back , as they were arguing and scaring each other he even tells us we all can go except cheong san dang the audacity , " you are all dead " ....

They started fighting again even the others were stopping him but they were only threw away i got a stick and threw it at him he look at both me and my brother i shook he threw us again but this time it hurts more since a nail scratch me making a line of scratch appear in my forearm ....

I quickly tear some of my shirt and use it as a bandage to it i groaned both back and my upper arm hurt i look at gwi nam going towards suhyeok but nam ra quickly hit him with a wood that was from the fire , they began fighting as gyeong su helped me to stand up ...

Nam ra and him was still fighting for a good 19 minutes she won throwing him off the rooftop i go towards them seeing gwi nam fall of the ground mumbling something and eventually standing up i scoff and rubbed my ears gyeong su stopped me and shook his head i just looked down ...

( Time Skip )

We have sat around the fire talking about gwi nam i just stay silent and listen to them i didn't even want to talk to them since what happened i just got the book and started reading it again since there was nothing to do ....

Suddenly they stop talking " did you guys hear that " , nam ra asked we all look at her saying what and what is it suddenly there is like a whirring sound in a distance that can be hear cheong san stand up ...

We all stand up and see a helicopter oh god a helicopter we now began making sounds to let them hear us so that we can now be save we were jumping up and down just to let them notice ...

" hey!!! " , " here " " sir!!!! " we all said to let them know there were still survivors us ....

We were so excited but that excited won't last forever when one soldier said ...

" get down !!! , all of you get down " the soldier said

We all got down scared to fight seeing guns if we didn't obey we will all be killed they were checking our temperatures i got worried what if they find out that nam ra was a zombie i scratch my ears ...

They go down to see if there were any other survivors when they got down we heard gunshots and zombie screaming well we hope that they wouldn't get bitten too ...

We all sat down and rest a little bit a few minutes or like 1 hour they all got back up they stated that we all need to go up the chopper one by one , the first one to go up was ji-min she was going up but the one soldier who caught my eye was talking to someone ..

I looked at him seeing he was kind of frustrated and kind of screaming i heard they were just children , does it mean they wouldn't save us they were now getting worried since they were pulling jimin down ....

" sir is this about someone in the camp if it is we can help you right guys " i asked them they were nodding with tears in they're eyes " just please sir take us up " we all pleased but he just shoot up towards the sky ...

We all cry since we didn't even do anything " if this what your captain say to you all say to him we don't need your help we can go there by ourselves " i cry to the soldiers gyeong su pulling me " y/n stop it shh shh please come on " gyeong su told me i calmed down abit ....

I sat down rubbing my ears making them more redder and cry i hugged gyeong su since he was the one comforted me hyo-ryeong started speaking i explained to her ...

" no we will just go to the camp by ourselves , it's they're fault not checking the survivors properly but didn't i told you all we still needed to find the herbs we just keep continuing ok " i say to her and hugged her crying as well with her ....

We all sat down already calm but this time it wasn't us that was calm the weather was it was thundering and raining we were all happy but if nam ra couldn't handle the loud sound might as well as gwi nam i remembered when ...

( Flashback Times !! : 14 age )

My family and gwi nam's family was having a dinner our family was very close with each other since my mom's friend was gwi nam's mom i was inside my room listening to music i didn't even notice that someone entered my room until ...

" boo " someone whisper making me flinch i look at who it was and it was gwi nam i punched his arm since he know my fear i glared at him and he just laughs i sigh and put my earphones back ...

" jerk " i mumble quietly " what did you say ?? " he said intimidately i look at him quite scared but just stare at him like some sort of clown ...

I took of my earphones and look at my window raining but the rain was getting louder and it started thundering too i look at my phone seeing a text from my mom saying that they will stay here for the night since it was raining and thundering loudly and you can call it a storm ....

I sigh and look at gwi nam beside me hugging me i giggle at his cuteness i hug him back since when we were kids he was scared of storms i supported him in my bed and lay down getting my earphones to put some music on to make him relax ....

I rubbed his back making him more calmer and after that i heard snores beside me i wish this would never end i hope one day he would change and just say sorry for what he have down a caress his soft hair looking at his wrist with the promise bracelet i made i chuckle and drifting off to sleep ...

( Flashback end!!! : i was thinking that making y/n kiss him while he sleeps but i just don't want it to be super fast alangan sagad sagadin ko sila mag kiss diba anyways back to the story )

I smiled at the thought of that wherever he is inside the school i hope he can calm himself down i just enjoyed the rain while humming the song that we always both play whenever rain comes i hummed and hummed...

I look at everyone happy even though we still haven't eaten we were still ok at this state just to drink water will prove the captain wrong every problems can be solved ...

Suddenly they were crying i understand what they feel it was hard in this age we have to survive this situation ....

" pssst y/n " i look at who it was and it was gyeong su " yeah " i answered him " you ok you seem happy " he tells me i just shook my head slightly ...

We all began planning our escape here since we just couldn't stay here forever we all partnered up me and gyeong su i look at dae su and hold his hands as well " this is just for your safety dumbo " i say to him he look at me smiling widely ....

We all left gyeong in my left while daesu in my right hand we all go down quietly down the stairs daesu closed the door making some noise we all shush him up ....

" sorry , sorry my bad " he said ...

As we got down i see an arnis bag with two arnis stick inside i quickly took it since i have learned arnis in my elementary days ....

( author : i did arnis when i was 11 to 12 our team won wah great memories tapos sasabi ng pagbibigay pugay so proud 🥲 anyways back to the story 😃 )

I put it in my shoulders we all go down quickly so no zombies would see us we go down the hall , we are now going along the wall quickly we got to the truck and go under it we were crawling actually we were waiting for cheong san but then ......

•

( author : i am really sorry for the long wait its just that my modules kept me up alot of it and more chores from both my parents but here ya go and enjoy and have a lucky day please like and follow for more ☘️😃 )

#all of us are dead #aouad fanfic #aouad imagines #gwi nam x reader

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warmau · 3 years

Text

☆ko-fi au: rich kid!au inseong other rich kid aus: hongseok | hyungwon | haechan

you should have known something was wrong when your date didn't send you the address for the restaurant you two were going to meet at for the first time

instead opting for an expensive and suspicious-looking black car that makes itself a nuisance in front of your apartment building

you stare at it from the door and beside you is your neighbor, a busybody office worker named dawon, who holds his mail in one hand and twists his mouth up into a frown

"i wouldn't get in that car if i were you."

"it looks like it's a bmw"

"this date of yours is starting to look like a psychopath."

you roll your eyes, but the sentiment isn't lost on you

who has the money to rent this kind of car? all for a dinner date?

you look at your phone where there's a text from your date, kim inseong, who you met through one of those online dating apps you had sworn you'd never use

but with the years passing by and your friends all gushing about the fountain of love and relationship

you had caved

actually, you had caved after a particularly teary-eyed solo re-watch of breakfast at tiffany's

not that you really cared about the plot or anything - just that the fantasy of being loved and taken care of for the rest of your life - well

whatever, the point was you had made a profile and you had matched with inseong

you were initially worried about him being a catfish - the one unnormal thing on his profile was the fact that he was gorgeous

but a video chat had melted those doubts away

still, this car and this secret reservation was starting to raise red flags

"im taking down the license plate number"

dawon says and you re-read the text from inseong again

'are you sure you can't just tell me the address of this place? i can take the train'

'don't worry, the car will get you there faster and the hostess knows the driver so you won't have any issues with the reservation'

you slip your phone into your pocket, suddenly aware that all you're bringing is it and your keys

dawon is furiously taking photos of the car now and you tell him it'll be ok

he asks before you go out to the car, "what's this guys name?"

"kim - kim inseong."

dawon's eyes go wide and he gapes, you tell him to stop fooling around as you wave goodbye

just as the door shuts, you don't hear dawon go

"that kim inseong?"

the driver is quiet but polite and you try to overcompensate with your manners and not pester him about where you're going

the inside of the car smells of new leather and there isn't a speck of dirt or evidence of anyone else being in here but you

the city's winding streets and lights both distract and worry you and you nervously tap on the dating app to see inseong's profile again

a mirror selfie is the first picture, he's smiling and looks like he might be in a fancy hotel bathroom somewhere

the next picture is him and a couple of what you assume are work buddies

the next is him at a bookshop, wearing pretty framed glasses that compliment the shape of his face

his interests are artsy and he says he works in photography

he's a cancer and he likes ballads and doing puzzles

his profile is pretty generic, you don't want to be vain but you'd matched with him because he was totally hot, but also after talking you'd come to realize there was more

he was definitely witty, charming, and didn't ever send you the kind of messages you had heard horror stories about

(three am hookups or requests for pictures of your feet)

you close the app, just as the driver parks the car and you expect to get out at some small, but cute italian place

or at most somewhere more new and stylish that might have been mentioned in a magazine

you do not think you're going to stop in front of one of seoul's most high-end restaurants

the kind of place that looks like it should be a palace - high rise ceilings and huge fountains and a line of hopeful socialities waiting around the corner praying someone miss their reservation

the driver comes around to your side, opening the door and suddenly you look down and think

im not dressed for this place, hell im not a person made for this place

you step out and he motions for you to pass the line, up the stairs and into the huge doors

as soon as the hostess sees him she shoves forward a lanky looking valet boy and sends you a big, red-lipsticked smile

"ah, you're mr. kim's date. come with me - he's in our private dining room."

you feel like a newborn animal walking on shakey legs as you follow her, you walk past the first level of dinners who are seated at elegant looking tables in low light

there's a hum of talking and the sound of someone pouring wine

you look for inseong, but don't see him anywhere

the hostess leads you to an elevator at the back - and when it arrives she motions for you to go inside and tells the person inside that you'll be going to floor nine

turns out the entirety of floor nine is one big dining room, adorned in gold and red and at the table right before one of the huge windows is inseong

you can't think of a word to say - not even when his eyes light up to match the chandeliers and he stands up from his seat to greet you

"inseong"

you squeak and he says your name prettily like it's the name of a flower

"inseong - " you repeat and look at him with eyes like saucers "is this some kind of practical joke?"

the look of happiness on his face dims

"w-what?"

"where are we, this place of town is for millionaires - stars, i can't afford to eat here! i probably can't even afford to breathe the air here! if this is your idea of a fun prank date then im going to-"

you throw your hands up, fussing so much so that the waiter who had wanted to come over stops in their tracks

inseong looks at you and for a moment there's hurt in his expression but then something else dawns on him

"you didn't know?"

you shake your head - "how would i have known that this is some elaborate joke! i knew those dating apps would end up embarrassing me-"

"no, i mean you don't know who i am?"

your hands swing down to your sides and you look at him almost stupidly

"well, you're kim inseong."

"yes."

he motions to the photographs that line the red-painted wall, all framed and featuring famous models and public figures

they look vaguely familiar, as if you seen them multiple times on the covers of magazines or newspapers

"im kim inseong, the photographer of seoul"

a blankness coats the room and then, like a rubber band, it snaps into place

the magazine covers, the job title 'photographer' on his profile, and now the inseong standing in front of you in head to toe gucci

you step back like you've just been approached by a dangerous-looking beast

hands flying up to your mouth

"oh my god - you're famous and-"

he grins, "and rich."

somehow you sit down, probably because the news hits you like a truck and you can't stand any longer

it's enough time for inseong to wave the waiter over safely and order wine for the two of you as well as an appetizer in french that glosses over your head

he looks at you and folds his hands under his chin

"i thought you knew."

"why is a millionaire like you on a dating app for plebeians"

he shakes his head, "you're not a plebeian"

"im pretty sure my yearly salary is the same amount as one of your cameras."

he looks down at his wine and swallows, suddenly the air of glowing confidence and ease shrinks

"you're right. it's silly of me to say i wasn't trying to act a little bit below my status by joining the app."

you straighten in your seat

"i - i didn't mean it like that, i mean rich people still want love im sure - i mean you're a normal person."

"normal?" he flicks his gaze to you "no one has ever called me that."

great, here i am putting my foot in my mouth in front of one of seoul's most eligible bachelors

"i mean - i just. ok i mean you're not 'normal' in your field of work but you want to feel a connection right. that's why you joined the app - just like me. you just want someone in your life."

you don't notice the little smile that tugs at the corner of inseong's long lips

your appetizer arrives and you are offput by the amount of truffle on it

inseong tells you to look at the menu and order anything you like and as much of it as you want to

one look at the price and you tell him you'll pass, you'll get mcdonalds on your way home

"please don't worry, it'll go on my bill"

he insists and you cross your arms

"this is our first date, we go dutch. i can't have you treating me if im not even your partner yet"

inseong bites his tongue not to laugh at the simple way you look at everything

"fine, well then." he closes the menu and snaps his fingers, within a moment a man arrives at his side - you assume it's his assistant "let's got to mcdonalds together."

you think he's being funny, but he's not

you find yourself in the second expensive car of the day. this time it's a slicked silver lamborghini that inseong drives with an almost alarming carelessness.

he seems to have forgotten how to order at a drive-through and so you have to lean over his lap to speak for the both of you

as you put in the order, inseong flushes and tries not to look at the areas of your shirt that have slide up as you hang out of the window

when you sit back you grin at him

"i hope you like chicken nuggets"

inseong does, so much so that he eats his and puppy dog begs you for one of yours

you both sit in his car and you try not to spill anything, but inseong says not to worry about being careful. he has another car (or five) that he can use if you stain the seat with your sprite

but aside from that you ask inseong more about his life

you had briefly chatted before you met, but now there was a treasure trove of new information about him to unlock

the weird thing is that you just genuinely want to know

inseong picks up on it, you have no ulterior motive. you haven't had one since you found out who he really was.

you nibble on a fry as you ask, "so are you traveling these days for work?"

"usually. when we video chatted i was in denmark."

you stick your tongue out

"denmark! what a show off, my last vacation was a two hour train ride outside of seoul."

"well - where do you want to go?"

you gather your garbage and his neatly, inseong finds the normal gesture pangs something in his heart

"hmmm i think i would want to go someone really warm. like brazil or chile."

"are you free this weekend?"

you blink and turn to look at him

"are you asking me on a second date?"

he puts a hand on the wheel and nods

"yes."

"well - i am free actually.......but if we go on a date let's not do anymore uptight restaurants."

he promises he won't and instead he says he'll pick somewhere comfortable and fun

you try not to get bashful when he says your photos do you no justice - you should let him take your portrait next time too

and although he drives you home in his car, you are aware of the black car you arrived in following close behind

when he stops in front of your apartment you turn and mumble that you had a good time, after the heart attack-inducing revelation of his identity

inseong laughs and you straighten your shoulders slightly

he notices the way you position yourself slightly and he turns to you too. suddenly the look in his bright eyes dulls just a bit as he lingers from looking into your eyes to your lips

you decide to be brave - closing your eyes as an invitation

inseong's smile is soft against your lips when he leans in

nothing more than that happens and you blurt out that you'll look forward to the next date, inseong watches you scurry inside your apartment before letting out the breath of nervousness he's been holding

never thinking you would give him butterflies he hasn't felt since he was in high school

when you get home - dawon is knocking on your apartment in five minutes

and you two spend an hour going through inseong's photos again as dawon points out that "how could you not know he's rich, he's wearing a 100k watch in this bathroom selfie!"

you tell him you're just dumb, or maybe just charmed by who inseong is rather than his money

dawon doesn't believe it but he asks when your second date is and you say this weekend

"where is he taking you?"

you giggle, "he said somewhere comfortable and nice! maybe we'll go to a market or something."

the weekend comes and. inseong has bought you two private jet tickets to brazil.

such is the world of dating a rich kid.

#rich kid au #sf9 scenarios #sf9 au #inseong scenarios #inseong au #sf9 imagines #inseong imagines #kim inseong #sf9 #inseong x reader #sfw #ko fi commissions

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