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sarcasmsweetie · 1 year

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For All of Our Days

My first Cassian fic!! And I went a little crazy with it... Turns out it's actually hard for me to write a oneshot. I've built an entire world around this in my head, so maybe we'll have bonus content in the future. But for now, after nearly a week of constant edits, I'm finally happy with this. (Though don't pay attention to the title - I struggled hard, only to wind up cheating and taking it from one of the lines.)

Cassian x Princess of Dawn

Word Count: 10.2k

Masterlist

“She found her mate, Cassian.” Cassian stared at his High Lady, certain he heard her incorrectly.

“What do you mean, Feyre? I’m right here, who else would she have found?” Feyre glanced briefly at Rhys, uncertain how to move forward.

“We know you suspected she was your mate, brother, but - “

“But nothing! It may not have snapped in place for us, yet, but I have never been more certain about anything in my life that I am meant to be hers.”

“Cassian…”

“Cassian.” Cassian was pulled from his memory, shaking his head slightly as if to remove what happened four months ago from his mind. He looked to Azriel, grateful to see a look of pity wasn’t across his face. Instead, the stoic Shadowsinger stood tall as he glanced around the room, always on the lookout for danger.

“Thesan is about enter.” Cassian glanced to the entrance of the room and straightened his shoulders ever so slightly. All of the High Lords arrived in the Dawn Court this morning to discuss the ever-ongoing relief plans across the continent. Azriel and Cassian stood behind their High Lord and High Lady, both sitting at the round table next to Winter. The females were excitedly discussing Vivane’s upcoming due date, with Feyre sharing bits she learned from her own pregnancy with Nyx.

“I can’t guarantee everything will remain the same for you, as your little one won’t have wings, but don’t you dare hesitate to reach out to me or Auntie Mor for anything you need.”

Cassian watched as Viv grabbed Feyre’s hand in thanks, but before she could voice anything, Peregryn guards opened the door. “High Lord Thesan, and Princess Eir.” Cassian and Azriel shared a look. Everyone has heard of the Princess of Dawn, but she has never made an appearance at one of these meetings. They both turned their attention to see Thesan walk in, arm linked with a female’s.

She was about a head shorter than Thesan with long auburn hair and captivating orange eyes that were nearly identical to the shade of orange found in a sunrise. A slight tan touched her skin, along with freckles that covered her face. She stood tall as she entered the room, wearing a soft pink, orange, and cream dress that matched Thesan’s robes. If it weren’t for the protective Peregryn, Sindri, standing behind Thesan as he always has, one could almost confuse the two for a couple.

“Thank you all for being able to fit this meeting into your schedules. I know we are all busy, but I think you can agree with me when I say this takes precedence.” Cassian’s grin felt like the first genuine smile he’s let loose these last couple of months as he watched the female raise a challenging eyebrow toward the Autumn Court following Thesan’s words. Beron narrowed his eyes, though made no move to disagree.

“For those of you who have not had the pleasure of meeting my cousin, allow me to introduce you to Eir, Princess of Dawn. She has been working tirelessly to plan and prepare for this meeting and its anticipated outcomes, so please pay her the proper respect she deserves.” Everyone watched as Sindri first moved Eir’s chair back so she could sit, then Thesan’s chair. As they sat, Helion stood with a feline grin, bowing to the hosts.

“It is always an honor to see you outside of your clinics, Princess. Thank you for all you’ve done and all you continue to do to help the people of this land.” Cassian watched Eir wave Helion’s comments away with a slight blush crossing her cheeks. He took note of the way the blush seemed to highlight her freckles all the more.

“Oh, hush and sit down, Helion. No amount of flattery will change any of the plans I’ve put together for anyone.” He winked as he took his seat.

“So you’re saying flattery and some flirtation could have impacted plans if I’d only known sooner? What a pity.” Eir rolled her eyes, clearly used to Helion’s antics, as she snapped her fingers. A stack of documents immediately appeared on the table in front of her.

“Moving onto the actual matters at hand,” she narrowed her eyes playfully to Helion before settling back into her role, “I thank you all for the detailed reports you’ve shared, as well as entertaining any follow up questions and concerns I had. I also trust that everyone was nothing but truthful and did not try and hide the true sense of their needs in an attempt to not appear weak in front of other courts.” A pointed glance to Beron and Azriel had to step on Cassian’s foot in response to his snort. “With that being said, I have no intention of reading aloud the reports you’ve shared – those details are strictly confidential and only used by me to help determine next steps. My intentions today are to simply share said next steps with everyone and answer any questions you may have. I would like to note that all healers that have been assigned to your courts are at the ready to depart with you all once we conclude today so that they can get straight to work. Once at their assigned stations, they will remain in contact with me so that we can make any appropriate adjustments to best serve your people as time goes on. Any initial questions before I dive in?”

Unsurprisingly, Beron was the only one to raise a question. “I mean no disrespect, Princess, but what makes you qualified to make these decisions and not the High Lord himself? How can any of us trust that we will truly receive the best solutions to our problems with you at the helm, when next to no one in this room has even met you before today?”

Cassian watched as everyone around the table seemed to grumble in frustration at Beron’s interruption, but Eir looked as if she was ready for his particular line of questioning. “Do you, as High Lord of Autumn, take care of every task yourself? Or do you delegate to qualified individuals?”

“How are we to know you’re even qualified? My original question still stands: How can any of us trust you?” Helion opened his mouth to retort, but Eir raised a hand to silence him.

“So you go through an interview process among the High Lords at this table before you delegate tasks to members of your own court? I hope you can forgive me for being plain here – political bullshit has never been my strong suit.” Even Azriel couldn’t hold back a snort at her comment. “My uncle, Thesan’s father and the previous High Lord of our court, gifted me my title when I came into my powers over 400 years ago, and we learned that my abilities are second only to my dearest cousin here. Healing is my strength, so I pour every fiber of myself into my studies, taking care of my patients, as well as training the next generation of healers. Every healer that has come from Dawn since I was given my title have gone on into their careers only after my training and blessing. You do not know me because I never cared if you got to know me. Frankly, I would rather be anywhere else than in this room, but I have a duty not only to this court, but this continent to ensure the health and safety of all its residents. If you truly require a recommendation for my credentials, look no further than to the High Lord on my left because he is the only fae in all of Prythian above me in ability. If he trusts me to do the job and get it done correctly, then you can be damn sure that it will be done so.”

Many around the table were grinning at her response, though some tried to hide them (such as Eris and the Lady of Autumn). Before Beron could retort, Thesan spoke softly. “Need I remind you, Beron, that you are in my home? I don’t go traipsing into your lands and insult those of your family, do I? No, and neither do I question the inner workings of your court. So, unless you have a legitimate question to the plan that Princess Eir has laid out for you, I highly recommend you bite your tongue, lest you find yourself without any aid at all.”

Everyone waited a moment to see if Beron would respond, but after his clear silence, Eir shuffled through her papers. “Excellent. Moving on, I think I’d like to go in alphabetical order of our courts, so let’s start with Autumn.” Cassian watched the glint in her eyes as she talked through her immediate plans for Autumn. “I will be sending Alette, my own second in command, to address any immediate needs for your court before moving into training future healers for your lands.” As she discussed timelines and expectations, Beron interrupted with a face nearly as red as his hair.

“You expect me to only bring one of your healers back with me and magically fix everything?” Eir raised an eyebrow in response.

“Unless you wish for me to share the details of your report in front of everyone here in order to remind you as to why I’m recommending one healer, I’m not seeing any particular issue with this plan of action. And as I mentioned earlier, I will remain in constant contact with everyone I’m sending out so that we can make adjustments as needed. Maybe it will turn out that a submitted report wasn’t as truthful as it should have been, and a healer needs additional support – whether that be supplies or other healers. This is also why it was crucial that any questions I asked should have been answered. I planned with the information made available to me. This is by no means set in stone and I will continue to work tirelessly to ensure every court is supported as best they can be. But until Alette sees what she has to work with, I can’t do anything else for you at this time.”

Everyone watched as Eris leaned over to whisper something in his father’s ear. It was brief, but seemed to have hit its mark as Beron sat back into his seat with a curt nod. Eir turned her attention to Helion in order to talk through her plans for Day, but he waved a hand.

“I trust you more than anyone else in this room, sweet Princess. If I’m taking anyone back to Day with me, I’ll just meet them when we wrap up here.” Eir nodded, not even batting an eye as she moved onto the next page of her pile. Cassian and Az shared a brief look, curious about the relationship between the two. Clearly, as neighbors, some sort of bond was built over time, and Cassian felt what he could only describe as a small pang of jealousy that Helion was close with the Princess of one of the solar courts when Night had never met her before now.

“Moving on, we have Night.” Eir turned to Rhys and Feyre with a small smile on her face. “Thank you both so much for your extensive reports – they helped me envision just what exactly we’re facing up in the North. Due to the vastness of your lands, my primary focus will be ensuring there is a capable healer stationed in various locations.” Cassian listened intently as she laid out her plans of visiting places such as the Hewn City and Illyrian war camps to check in on what sort of training the healers in each location already has under their belts and how she can support the court. It took Cassian a while to realize she meant that Eir herself would be overseeing everything in Night, and not one of her healers. Once she finished her high-level plan, Rhys dipped his head in her direction.

“We are greatly appreciative of everything you have to offer Prythian, and even more so that we have the honor of working with you directly.” Another blush crossed Eir’s face as she looked between the High Lord and High Lady as she cleared her throat.

“The honor is mine, High Lord, to help you in any way possible considering how much you have helped us all.” She smiled, then turned her attention to Tamlin. “Now onto Spring.”

Cassian admittedly tuned out the conversation once his home’s plans were addressed and took the time to observe this mysterious Princess of Dawn. Although she claimed the political “bullshit” wasn’t a strong suit of hers, she sat tall and addressed the table almost as well as any of the leaders in this room. As he listened to her speak, he noticed a soft cadence to her speech – calming and reassuring, as if she were addressing a patient in their sick bed and not the most powerful High Lords of the land.

She clearly had every word in her reports memorized as she rarely looked down to reference the pages as she spoke to each court – merely shuffled pages to the next as she moved her attention from plan to plan. She also made a point to thank servers as they refilled her goblet, even if she was mid-sentence. Beron would scoff each time, and Cassian grinned when the Lady of Autumn took it upon herself to clear her throat at the same time as if trying to cover up his lack of manners.

Once Eir concluded her report to Winter with the amendment of ensuring a healer whose focus is in pregnancy be sent home with the Lady, everyone stood from the table and softly spoke to one another as they waited for their assigned healers to arrive. Cassian watched Helion sneak behind Eir to pull her under his arm while he messed up her hair. “Promise me you’ll come to more of these dreadful meetings, little one. There weren’t any disagreements to be had. And no, before you can say it, I don’t count Beron in anything I ever say.” She pushed him away with a huff while Thesan silently stood beside her fixing her hair, almost as if this was typical behavior, like a middle child amongst siblings.

“If this is the treatment I can expect from you, congratulations on ensuring I never step foot in here again.” Helion let out a boisterous laugh, causing Eir to drop her façade of being upset with him and joined in the laughter. “And before you shush me again, I’m sending Cara and Thayer with you. They’re probably the only two in my arsenal who won’t be phased by your incessant flirting.”

“Is that a challenge, Princess?”

“Honestly? Kind of.” They both chuckled, and Eir’s gaze turned slightly worried. “Please don’t break them, Helion. I’d rather have to not redo everything because you decided you wanted to play.”

Thesan smiled at them fondly while they bickered as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I think you did wonderfully today, cousin.” She turned her attention back to Thesan, small smile on her face. “I know both of our fathers would be proud.” Her eyes brightened, and she quickly took Thesan’s hand into her own.

“Proud of both of us.” He pulled her into a hug, both holding onto each other tightly.

“I will miss you greatly while you’re in Night, so please check in with this mother hen from time to time, won’t you?” Eir laughed as she pulled away, assuring her cousin she’ll write him constantly.

Cassian and Azriel followed behind their High Lord and High Lady as they moved towards the three. All winged beings in the immediate area glanced at one another, both in acknowledgment and a sort of distrust. Thesan ignored them in favor of addressing Rhys.

“I am trusting you implicitly to ensure not a hair on my cousin’s head be harmed, Rhysand.” Said cousin slapped Thesan’s arm, but he paid her no mind.

“I swear to you that she will be safe in my lands. Quite frankly, I think I fear what Madja would do to me a bit more than what you would do.” Thesan smirked in response, and Eir brightened when Madja was mentioned. Before she could comment, she turned her attention to the doors as guards brought in numerous healers. Eir quickly excused herself so that she could introduce the healers to their assigned courts.

Everyone watched as she moved around making introductions and taking final note of ensuring everyone was on board with the plans she laid out. Cassian was particularly interested once Eir directed a pretty blonde to Beron and his family. Although Cassian couldn’t hear what they were saying, it was clear that Beron wasn’t going to put up a fight. Whatever Eris said to him either really made an impact, or simply delayed the outburst to the privacy of their own home. What stood out as particularly interesting was the small nod Eris directed to Eir and the wink she sent him as she turned to Alette, presumably to confirm she was ready to go.

Autumn left soon after that, and the rest of the courts began following suit. Eir made her way back to their group and Helion was the one to bring up the question everyone had on their minds. “What was that little interaction with the eldest son, little one?” She had a solid ‘innocent’ face, but it was clear to everyone she was currently anything but.

“Whatever do you mean, my lord? I simply introduced one of my best healers to her assigned court.” Helion leaned forward as if he knew there were more to the story, and Eir quickly dropped the act and leaned towards the gossipy High Lord. “And if my healer and a certain eldest son happen to hold an attraction towards one another but haven’t been able to explore anything due to distance and schedules, well it looks like they are both suddenly far more available to getting to know one another.” Helion threw his head back as he laughed, but both Thesan and Sindri rolled their eyes with a sigh.

“Beron may have been placated by being reminded his one healer is the best you’ve trained, but let’s do our best to ensure he never learns of your ulterior motives.” Eir shrugged, clearly not concerned.

“I received a separate letter asking for Alette specifically, so I can fall back on that to prevent any future lashings. The fact that I would have assigned her anyways considering she won’t tolerate his behavior and is incredibly capable of facing their challenges alone made the decision all the easier.” Everyone watched as Feyre linked her arm with Eir’s, smirk on her face.

“I think you and I will get along just nicely, Princess Eir.”

------

After a delightful day exploring the city and grabbing lunch at Sevenda’s, I was led to Rhys and Feyre’s personal residence on the river.

“I think a night in is exactly what we need to celebrate your arrival, Princess.”

“Please, don’t feel the need to keep calling me that, Rhys. Only Helion addresses me by my title outside of any sort of official business, and he only does it because he knows it pisses me off.” Rhys snorted, fully believing that is something the High Lord of Day would do.

“You seem close with Day. I’m wounded you’re not nearly as friendly with our solar court.” I watched Cassian bring a hand to his chest as if he were truly physically wounded, and I didn’t bother to hide the eye roll in response. Surprisingly, the steely general of the Night Court is actually an incredibly kind and playful male. It was made apparent very early in our adventures around the city that everyone in this Inner Circle wears a mask for the public, and seeing everyone as their true selves has been incredibly comforting.

“I’ve barged into his libraries many times over the years. The number of times his scribes have caught me trying to bring scrolls back home is ridiculous. Genuinely surprised I don’t have permanent scars on the back of my hands from the lashings they would give me…” I mindlessly rubbed the back of my hands at the memory, and both Cassian and Rhys laughed. Feyre, on the other hand, looked offended for me.

“They would punish a princess from another court?”

“This was prior to my title being handed to me, so I was just a bratty kid waltzing around the library like it was my own. Helion never had an issue with me coming and going as he knew I genuinely wanted to learn everything I could about anything.” I smiled at the memories of 12-year-old me sprinting up and down the aisles of his libraries. “Sometimes he’d help hide me from the scribes and they’d grow furious with him – threatening to boycott their positions if he continued to encourage my childish behavior. Considering this was all before I was a teenager, Helion took great pride in ensuring I could remain a child for as long as possible.”

What I didn’t say is that I would often run away to Day because I couldn’t stand being around my mother. She is a general in the Peregryn armies and despised me since the day I was born without wings. She blamed my fully fae father for how I ‘turned out,’ and refused to acknowledge me as her child. I had signed up to be trained by the armies when I was younger in an attempt to grow close with her and earn her approval, but she would either ignore me completely, or beat me so deep into the ground I couldn’t go back to training for at least a week at a time. Thesan and Helion are the only two who know the details about my incredibly strained relationship with her, so Helion would never even consider closing the door on me if I needed an escape.

Feyre smiled softly at me, almost as if she heard my inner thoughts. Remembering what her and Rhys’ abilities are, it was very much possible that she did actually catch onto my past. “Let’s head inside before it gets too dark out. I cannot wait for you to meet the rest of our family – you will be seeing quite a bit of them during your stay here.”

“So best to rip the bandaid off now and meet them in one fell swoop.” Feyre smacked her mate’s chest with a glare before encouraging everyone to enter their house.

The entryway was warm and welcoming, especially since there were many people standing there. Rhys sighed at the sight. “You don’t even try to be subtle anymore.” He turned to me with a smile. “I hope you can forgive my family. They act as if they’ve never met a princess before, even though we’ve gone and adopted the Prince of Summer.” I bit back a smile as I watched a blonde female stick her tongue out, and he responded in kind. “Eir, I suppose it is my honor to introduce my family, starting first with my ever-mature cousin, Mor.” The blonde quickly ran over to me and pulled me into a hug.

“Oh, I so look forward to getting to know you! I have to say, I am thrilled we’re adding more females to our ranks. We were outnumbered for so long, and now look at us!” She laughed as she pulled back, though remained next to me as Rhys continued the introductions.

“Next we have Amren and Varian,” both nodded in my direction, but made no move to hug me as Mor did. “Feyre’s sisters Nesta and Elain, with their mates Aldric and Lucien.” I smiled in hello to both of them, though Rhys looked as if he was looking for someone else.

“Nuala has taken Nyx up for a bath. They should be down shortly.” The female who I believe to be Elain spoke up, smiling at Rhys and Feyre, before turning to me. “It is an honor to meet you, Princess, and I very much look forward to getting to know you.”

I smiled in return, but addressed everyone when I said, “I am thrilled to be here as well, but please – just call me Eir.” Mor linked her arms with me and led me further into the house.

“Tell me, Eir: do you like wine?” I heard an exaggerated groan behind me, and turned to see Rhys looking up at the ceiling with Cassian grinning beside him.

“Come now, brother. Don’t you want to be an excellent and gracious host?” He turned back to look towards me and Mor and winked. “I’ll be sure we only enjoy the finest vintages tonight.”

“No need to go digging, Cass. I already pulled bottles out as we waited for your arrival.” Mor grinned, and Cassian was quick to follow behind us.

As the night went on, I found myself significantly more comfortable around this group. I typically prefer to sit back and observe, but with the combined efforts of Mor, Feyre, and Cassian, I was more social than I had been in years.

I’ve learned that Elain and Lucien, after months of a rocky start, had their mating ceremony about a month ago. I remember Helion talking about the event nonstop before and after it took place, and I was thrilled for them. Although I never met Lucien before tonight, I’ve heard enough about him from Helion that Lucien may as well have been in my life for years.

Nesta met her mate a few months ago when she wandered into the bookstore he owns off of the Sidra, and their mating ceremony was last week. As the accepted bond was still new, it was no wonder he hovered beside Nesta throughout the evening. I noticed Cassian had the tendency to avoid conversation with them whenever he could, focusing more on anyone else in the room, especially once baby Nyx was brought down. Nesta would watch him, but made no move to try and engage with him, instead keeping her attention on her mate and Elain.

Mor pulled me aside as she refilled our glasses. “I see you’re noticing some newer tension in the group. I don’t intend to dive deep into others’ business, but I will say that everyone is behaving themselves gloriously since you are here. I think this just means you’re stuck with us for a long time if your buffering powers continue like this.”

I smiled, looking back at Cassian who was crawling on the floor with Nyx, and back to Nesta who appeared to put all her focus in not looking at Cassian. “I wish healers could mend broken hearts, but unfortunately that is out of my pay grade.”

Cassian looked up at Mor and I at that moment, grinning as he whispered something to Nyx, before both began racing across the floor to us. Mor smirked into her cup and spoke quietly, “I think you’ll mend him up just fine.” I looked at her with a furrowed brow before feeling small hands grab at my ankles.

Smiling at Nyx, I pulled him up into my arms and laughed along with his precious giggles. Cassian stood as well, and Mor silently stepped towards Feyre and Rhys on the other side of the room, the three murmuring among themselves. “You’re a quick one, sweet boy. Beating your uncle by a landslide in that race!” Nyx continued to smile as he looked between us, Cassian gasping in false offense.

“'Landslide’ is pushing it, Princess. And what kind of uncle would I be if I left him in my dust? Can’t destroy his confidence at too young an age, you know.”

“Oh, no, we couldn’t have that. We must wait for a prime age to humble him. Late teens aught to do the trick.” We grinned at one another before Nyx pulled our attention back to him by clapping. I looked behind him to his wings, smile dropping slightly at the loss of something that was never mine.

Cassian nudged my shoulder, sensing my shift in mood. “You okay?” I looked up at him, glancing back at his wings as well.

“Oh, I’m fine. Just jealous. Always been a fantasy of mine to fly, feel the wind in my face, the freedom that wings can offer.” I nudged him back, trying to remove the crease between his brows. I decided then and there it doesn’t belong on a face like his. “Growing up around and essentially being raised by Peregryns may have influenced the desire. I’ve managed just fine here on the ground and will continue to do so. The wine is just making me nostalgic.” He didn’t look completely convinced but followed my lead in smiling back.

“If you ever feel the need to feel the wind through your hair, I will happily be your wings.” Nyx began clapping again, as if he approved the idea.

“I may take you up on that offer, General.”

“Then we’ll start tonight. You’ll need to get to the House of Wind somehow, and flying and winnowing are the only options.”

“Unless you want to climb 10,000 steps yourself.” Rhys appeared, and I happily passed Nyx along to him.

“10,000 steps seem excessive, High Lord. Luckily for me, I will be able to winnow in once I know where I should go.”

“What can I say – my ancestors have a funny sense of humor.”

“What a roundabout way to say dramatics run through the family, dear.” Feyre smiled at everyone, ignoring her now-sputtering mate. “I’m going to put this little one to bed, but please don’t leave yet until I come back down!” I turned to my freshly poured glass of wine from Mor, and raised it to Feyre.

“This will probably be my last glass for the night.” Feyre nodded, mentioning something about drinking it slowly as she moved up the stairs with Nyx and Rhys.

Cassian turned to pour a glass for himself and stayed beside me, both observing the room. Amren and Varian slipped away at some point throughout the night, and Nesta and Aldric said their goodbyes to Feyre before she came over to grab Nyx. Elain and Lucien were sitting on a sofa whispering to each other while Mor was forcing Azriel to dance along with her. “After everything we’ve gone through, I’m grateful we were blessed with nights like these. Everyone has fought too hard for too long.”

I nodded along. “You all deserve this peace, deserve to live your lives the way you want to.” He turned to face me, and I mirrored him.

“How do you want to live your life, Princess?” I watched him take a sip, tracking the movement of his throat as he swallowed. I quickly looked down at my own glass, missing the smirk on his face.

“Well, as we’ve established earlier, flight is an ideal aspect.” I shrugged, still looking at my glass. “I guess I’ve always lived my life for others, for my court. I never stopped to think about anything else.” Cassian was quiet for a moment as he observed me, and I felt fidgety enough that I drained the whole glass of wine. I looked up, meeting his hazel eyes paired with a soft smile and fought the urge to push back some of the hair that’s fallen into his face.

“I have a feeling no matter what you decide, you’ll be spectacular.” Feeling warm under his stare, I turned the question back on him.

“And what is your ideal life, General?” He swirled his glass before mirroring my motion earlier of downing its contents.

“Not needing to be a general anymore. Surrounded by loved ones and laughter, no longer needing to hide behind masks.” I smiled softly to him.

“Looks like you’re nearly there, hmm?” He cocked his head as he thought about it, but Feyre approached us before he could respond.

“Oh, I thought I told you to drink that slowly!” I gave a guilty smile.

“I’m sorry, Feyre. Truly. Maybe one of these nights we can share a glass just the two of us –“

“Don’t you dare exclude me, Eir!” I chuckled at Mor.

“Apologies. Just the three of us. But for tonight, I should get to bed. It was a long day today, and I’m sure tomorrow will be even longer getting a start with Madja.” I looked up to Cassian, remembering he volunteered to be my escort. “That is, if you’re ready to leave as well? If not, I can figure something else out.”

“I’m ready whenever you are, Princess.” I felt my eyes narrow as I looked at him, some dots starting to connect. Commentary on Helion, knowing I hate being called ‘Princess,’ his apparent enjoyment in teasing those around him…

“You only call me that because Helion does, don’t you?” He shrugged with a smirk, clearly not bothered by my assessment at all. I rolled my eyes and turned to Feyre. “Maybe we can talk about tips and tricks for dealing with Illyrians over those drinks, yeah?” She and I both ignored his and Azriel’s outcries as we hugged and said goodbye. I quickly went around the room, saying goodnights to everyone I’ve met today, already feeling almost at home with this group.

After completing my rounds, Cassian extended an arm to me, and I linked mine through his as we left, another chorus of “good nights” behind us. Once on the lawn, he twisted his arm slightly so that instead of linked with mine, it rested behind my back, and he suddenly dipped down slightly to lift me up from behind my knees. My arms frantically reached around his neck to hold and, and he laughed.

“Hold on tight, Princess.” And we rocketed into the sky. I was initially shocked from the lack of warning, but quickly joined in his laughter as the feel of the wind brushed my face. I closed my eyes in contentment, enjoying the fresh air and sense of weightlessness as he moved us along. After a moment, he pinched my side, causing me to open my eyes. “A perk of flight isn’t just the breeze – it’s the view.”

I followed his gaze, gasping at the sight of the city at night. Below us, the streets seemed to be more alive than they were during my tour today, but the sky stole my breath away. I spied constellations I’ve never even heard of, and the moon was bright enough that the lights below in the city were borderline useless. The lights, both fae and natural, reflected off the calm river, looking as if it were a mirror and not a body of water. I was afraid to blink as Cassian flew us around, occasionally identifying points of interest, but mainly staying silent as I took everything in.

Much too soon for my taste, we were landing on the balcony of the house. He set me down gently, but kept his arm behind my back as I looked between him and the city below. “You have a beautiful home, Cassian. And I hope you know that I’m never letting you off the hook for future flights. It was everything I ever dreamed.”

He smiled as he brought his other hand up to tuck some windblown hair behind my ear. “It would be my genuine pleasure, Princess.” He paused, clearly thinking about what he wants to say next. After what looked like a brief inner battle, he smiled again. “I’m glad that you’re here, Eir. Glad that maybe you get to be a part of that ideal life I’ve envisioned.”

------

On the roof I managed to wander onto earlier this morning, I sighed as I moved out of my final stretch to relieve some tightness in my lower back. I smiled as the sun continued to rise, excited to think about my first full day with Madja.

“Hopefully our dawns aren’t too disappointing, Princess.” I quickly turned to see a mix of familiar and unfamiliar faces.

“Any sunrise is stunning, General. Apologies – I didn’t realize this area would be used this early. I’ll get out of your hair.” I nodded to the group and watched Cassian take a step forward.

“Not too fast – let me introduce you before you dash off.” Three females stood behind the Illyrians. “You of course have met our High Lady’s sister last night, but I’m pleased to introduce you to Emerie and Gwyn. Az and I have been helping them in training to become the next generation of Valkyries.” I perked at the title and looked over the females in front of me with a new eye.

“It is an absolute honor to meet you, and I very much look forward to seeing the Valkyries come back to their full strength. It’s been far too long since this world was last blessed with warriors such as yourselves.” Nesta remained neutral, but Emerie and Gwyn both beamed. Emerie stepped closer, grin wide.

“Tell me all about the Peregryns. Have you trained with them? Studied their aerial combat maneuvers?” Nesta scoffed at her friend.

“She’s a healer and a Princess, Em. I highly doubt she’s had time for battle training.” Cassian frowned and Az shifted on his feet, the only sign he was uncomfortable.

“I actually have gone through a fair bit of training over the years. Can’t leave a Princess defenseless in case we find ourselves in a sticky situation, after all.” I wasn’t able to get to know Nesta as well last night as I did the others, so I wasn’t certain if this was normal for her or if she just wasn’t fond of me. I understood that the Archerons had a bit of a tough life growing up, so I was hopeful that she was also someone who wore a mask to survive and that one day she would be comfortable enough around me to drop the mask. In the meantime, though, I wasn’t going to let someone try and stomp over me. I may be compassionate, but I’m no pushover.

Both Cassian and Azriel raised a brow at my statement, but Cassian recovered first with a grin. “If you have a moment, Princess, care for a quick spar? I must admit I am incredibly curious as to how seriously those birds in Dawn take their training.” Azriel sighed but looked to me for confirmation on if I was comfortable with what Cassian suggested.

In response, I moved towards a weapons rack near the training ring and smiled when I saw the bo staff. Spinning it between my hands, I honed into the familiarity of the weight of the weapon, impressed with the balance, and the callouses on my hands nearly sighed in relief at the thought of being pushed again.

Whether it was his weapon of choice as well, or he simply wanted an even playing field, Cassian grabbed a second bo staff as I moved into position in the center of the ring. He wasn’t in full Illyrian leathers today (a small part of my brain pouted at that), but he instead wore lose clothing for training. The top of his tan chest with the slightest tease of his tattoos peeked out from his collar while the sleeves hugged his biceps. I narrowed my eyes when he grinned at me, catching my once-over of his appearance.

In trying to get the advantage, he sprinted to me, poised to attack. I raised my staff to easily block and push him back, but he followed through quickly by thrusting the end of his staff towards my torso. I spun out of the way, moving the end of my staff to block yet again, but quickly spinning the other end of the staff up and resting it on his shoulder next to his neck. Grin still in place, he said, “Again.”

We were both more aggressive in our moves this time around. I noticed over time that while he is familiar enough with the staff, he tends to use it more like sword. I found myself able to use that to my advantage during certain blocks and attacks, but that wasn’t enough to keep the upper hand through our bout as he does have significantly more strength and stamina than I do. As if the thought of not winning summoned her, my mind turned Cassian’s hazel eyes into an orange that matched my own. I found myself growling under my breath as Cassian’s appearance turned into the one who trained me, who abandoned me.

I pushed harder, forcing myself to be more on the offensive than defensive as I had been the last few minutes. I poured everything I had into ending this sooner rather than later, incorporating bits I learned from Sindri in an attempt to change up my rhythm and throw my sparring partner off course. Eyes widened as I tripped my opponent up, pushing them to the ground as I placed my foot on their chest and the end of my staff to their neck. As I stared down, those horrible orange eyes faded back into the light hazel of Cassian’s, and I quickly removed both my staff and foot from him. I glanced at my feet in a fleeting moment of shame for letting my past take hold of me like this, but quickly looked back at him while offering my hand to help him stand.

I heard the cheers of the females off to the side and Cassian smiled as he took my offered hand. A shock ran through my arm at the contact, and I quickly raised my eyes to his own to see he looked as surprised as I did at the feeling. Once our eyes connected, everything around us faded into nothing as something sharp snapped deep in my chest. My heart was pounding as I realized he was experiencing the same thing as me.

Mate.

Slowly, he rose to his feet, grip tightening around mine as he stared at me in disbelief. Once the feeling settled in my chest, I quickly took my hand back while clearing my throat. I looked up at our small audience. Emerie and Gwyn were still cheering loudly at my performance, but it appeared both Azriel and Nesta noticed that something happened between the two of us. Nesta’s eyes narrowed slightly, but Azriel spoke up.

“I would expect nothing short of stellar from the daughter of a Peregryn general.” Emerie and Gwyn quieted down as everyone looked at me as if through a different lens.

I rubbed my sweaty palms against my thighs, chuckling slightly to keep me focused on the conversation and not the countless thoughts screaming about mates and hazel eyes and biceps and – “And I would expect nothing short of stellar from the Shadowsinger of Night. May I ask what gave it away?”

“I’ve only ever seen one shade of eyes that orange before. Your mother was a beast on the battlefield against Hybern, and I know I’m certainly grateful to have someone like her on our side.” Everything inside me shut down, even the excitement and terror of finding my mate, at the reminder of the one tie between my mother and I. Azriel must have seen the shift in my demeanor as he looked confused, silently replaying what he said to nail down what could have offended me. I took a deep breath, trying to bring some semblance of light back onto my face as he couldn’t possibly know my detest for both my eyes and mother.

“Yes, she is certainly something.” Glancing at the others, I quickly nodded my head to everyone. “I should probably get going – I’ve taken up enough of your time this morning and I’m sure you have plenty on your plates.” I looked at Cassian quickly, moving my gaze to his neck and not his face as I don’t think I could walk away if I maintained any sort of eye contact with him. “Thank you for the spar – the most challenging I’ve had in quite some time.” I turned back to the females and smiled.

“Wait! Can’t you stay a bit longer? Teach us a bit as well?”

“She can’t.” Everyone turned to Nesta with a look of surprise, but her eyes were on Cassian. Feeling uncomfortable at the rising tension, I quickly agreed with her.

“Maybe I can take you up on that offer another time. As it stands, I am here as I have a job to do.” Cassian gently touched my elbow to grab my attention, to keep me here a little longer, or maybe just to have some sort of physical connection between the two of us.

“Do you need help getting to Madja’s?” I swallowed, and his eyes tracked the slight motion at my throat, and I watched the hazel sharpen ever so slightly. I shivered, and his gaze snapped up to meet my own.

“Rhys and Feyre are going to be picking me up soon. I believe they’re taking me out to breakfast before escorting me to Madja.” My voice was soft, and I wanted to kick myself for feeling and sounding breathless. He nodded, but still didn’t release my elbow. “I should clean up before they arrive. Wasn’t expecting to break a sweat when I came up here.”

“Why were you up here so early?” Grateful to Gwyn for the question, I turned to her quickly, and in doing so taking my arm from Cassian’s light grasp. Already my arm felt colder without his hand there, but now wasn’t the time to get lost in whatever is happening, not with an audience around.

“Stretching, mainly. Whether I’m hunched over books or patients, my back takes the brunt of that bit of suffering. So, every day when I wake up and before I go to bed, I just stretch it out a bit so that I’m not horribly affected the next day.” Gwyn grinned.

“When I’m not training, I actually work in the library, so I understand the pain of the hunched back.” I smiled back at her.

“It would be an honor to have you join me in one of these stretch sessions. Maybe I can pick your brain a bit about your collection.” Her smile widened, and I notice Azriel’s gaze soften at the sight. Tucking that bit of information to the back of my mind, I nodded once again to the group and dared a final glance to Cassian. He looked both lost and confused as he looked over me but tried to reel it when he caught my eye.

“Maybe don’t bring her to the library, Gwyn. Would hate to arrest the princess for thievery.” Attempting to maintain the light atmosphere he is aiming for, I rolled my eyes with a scoff.

“Stealing from Helion is purely for entertainment. I wouldn’t dare try that with my new friends.” Azriel chuckled along, and both Emerie and Gwyn lit up.

“I hope you don’t mind if I join you two because there are countless stories there just waiting to be shared, I know it.”

Before I could respond, I jumped as a deep voice sounded clear in my head. We’re leaving our house now – will arrive at the House of Wind shortly. I saw Cassian stand straighter when I jumped, now on high alert.

“It appears Rhys and Feyre are on their way.” Cassian practically deflated in relief, new understanding shining in his eyes as he looked over me. I shook my head, a bit freaked out that he can just talk into a mind without warning like that. “I wish you all the best of luck with your training today, and I do very much look forward to seeing you all again.” I quickly walked to the door feeling nothing but a piercing hazel gaze on my back.

------

I’ve been in the Night Court for about a week, and I think Madja and I made some incredible headway already. I wouldn’t have expected anything less as I know she was already giving future plans a lot of thought long before I arrived. But her most recent plan has really thrown me for a loop.

“I think I’d like to retire soon.” I choked on my tea, looking at her in shock. “Oh, don’t look so surprised, Eir. I’m old. This was bound to happen eventually.”

“I suppose so, but healing is your world. What will you do instead?” She gave me a sort of sad smile as she reached out to grab my hand.

“I did make healing my world, and look where that’s gotten me. No one to go home to, no one to enjoy my free time with. I’m not getting any younger and while I don’t regret my dedication to helping others, I do regret that my dedication closed so many other doors for me. You know, there was a male back in Summer that I meat years ago. I think I would like to travel and see what he’s up to these days.” There was a twinkle in her eye as she spoke, and I wondered how much she knew about my own questions about a certain male.

“I’m sorry if it didn’t come out as I intended, but I am happy for you, Madja. If anyone deserves a happily ever after, it’s certainly you. Who are you thinking of to take your place?” She continued looking at me with that twinkle, and it took me a moment too long to realize what she was implying. “Me? Madja, I don’t even know if I could given my responsibilities back in Day –“

“All of which have been delegated onto others for the uncertain duration of your stay here.”

“This was never meant to be permanent, Madja.” “And why not? If it’s your cousin that you’re worried about, you can still visit him whenever you’d like. I know you weren’t involved in the political side of things, so there’s no adjustments that need to be made in that regard.” She paused, taking note of my wide panicked eyes and back tracked a bit. “I’m not saying it would be easy to pack up one life for another. But I want you to know the option is there.” Because she couldn’t hold her tongue for too long, the twinkle turned mischievous. “And don’t you for a second think I haven’t noticed a certain Illyrian hunk spending more time in and around the clinic than he ever has before. There’s something that could be going on there, and I don’t want you to find yourself in my position centuries from now, regretting not taking the chance.”

“He’s my mate,” I whispered, saying it out loud for the first time since the bond snapped in place. “He’s my mate and I don’t know what to do.” Madja’s eyes were lined silver and a broad smile spread across her face.

“Have you talked to him?” My brows furrowed and she sighed. “How can you possibly know what to do if you haven’t spoken to him?”

A knock at my door pulled me out of my thoughts, and I glanced at the clock on my mantle. It was pretty late for visitors, so I hurried to answer the door thinking that maybe something was wrong. Cassian stood on the other side panting and looking frazzled. I quickly looked him over to see if he was hurt but couldn’t pinpoint anything.

“Are you alright? What’s wrong?” He seemed to be looking over me as well, though I wasn’t the one who could seem to be in trouble.

“May I come in?” My heart started to beat double time as I moved to the side to let him in. I’ve seen him in passing around the house and city, but this is the first time we’ve spoken to one another since that morning on the roof. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him now that I felt like I was allowed to look. His hair looked like it was once fully pulled back, but countless pieces stuck out from the band, presumably from the wind as he flew here from wherever he may have been. He was in casual attire, his pesky tanned chest and tattoos once again peeking through the collar of his shirt. His gaze wandered over me, and I was made hyperaware that I was in a thin night gown covered by an even thinner robe. I crossed my arms in front of me, and he inhaled deeply, pupils dilating as he continued to look at me. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“Working isn’t quite avoiding, Cassian.” He gave me a look, and I felt myself getting slightly defensive at that. “Well, you haven’t been trying to reach out to me, either. And no, hovering around my workplace isn’t quite the same.” He went to run his hands through his hair and frustratedly pulled the band from his hair. With his hair loose, he looked far wilder than he did before and something in me softened. “I promise I’m not trying to avoid you, Cass. This has just been… unexpected.” I sat on my bed, and he slowly moved to sit beside me. “I came to this court for a job. I envisioned the most surprising part of this trip would be to find the Illyrians in the Steppes accepting my help and advice with open arms.” Despite himself, he snorted at my comment.

“That would certainly be surprising.” I glanced at him with a small smile.

“What I’m trying to say is, I’m a planner. I have contingencies in place for my contingencies, and not once in my wildest dreams did I expect to find my mate.” He closed his eyes with a sigh when I said ‘mate’ and it took every fiber of my willpower to not reach out and touch his cheek.

“So. It has nothing to do with the princess wishing she wasn’t mated to the bastard brute?” This time I didn’t hold back from touching him, cradling his face within my hands. His closed eyes tightened at my touch, and a part of my heart crumbled at this male. He didn’t know it yet, but he and I are quite similar in that regard – feeling abandoned from your own family, being raised to believe you’re not enough.

Before I could second-guess myself, I leaned forward to place a kiss onto his forehead. “We are more than what anyone tries to force us to believe,” I whispered against his skin. I pulled back just enough to see his face, and his hands quickly raised to encircle my wrists in a way to make sure I don’t pull back too far. His eyes were bright as he stared at me, questions clear as day floating through his mind. “My mom disowned me as soon as I was born. Was disgusted that I was wingless. Spent most of my early years training to prove to her I’m just as strong and capable as anyone with wings, but all it did was anger her.” I brushed some hair from his face, tucking it behind his ears, and smiled as he leaned into the motion.

“Your mother is an idiot for not seeing your wonder and potential.” I tugged at his ear playfully in response.

“Just as any of the demons from your past are idiots for not seeing your wonder and potential.” I bit my lip as I looked over his face, and my heart began to race as his gaze zeroed in on the motion. “I haven’t completely thought this through, but I thought you should know that Madja is asking me to take her place here once she retires.” His eyes shot up to mine as if to confirm what I said was true. “This whole trip was just supposed to be temporary and the thought of making this move a permanent thing is a bit daunting, but…” His grip tightened slightly on my wrists.

“But?” My thumbs traced the planes of his cheeks as I smiled.

“But… I think I very much wish to get to know this city, this court, and I don’t think I can without you, General.” His smile was as bright as the sun as he tugged my wrists, causing me to fall forward from the unexpected motion, and his hands moved from wrists – one to my neck to cradle my jaw and the other to my lower back. The movement caused my hands to land on his chest, and I felt myself grip the front of his shirt as the hand on my lower back traced small circles, causing me to close my eyes with a sigh at the contact, feeling immediate relief, despite the bit of stretching I did before he arrived.

“I think I’d like to kiss you, Princess,” he whispered. I looked to him and smirked.

“I’m waiting, General.” He narrowed his eyes, but still pulled me gently to him, offering me the softest kiss. We both sighed simultaneously, and I moved my hands to rest on his shoulders, using his body to pull me slightly closer as I began to kiss him a bit harder. He groaned at the contact, moved his hands to my hips and before I knew it, I was placed on his lap and tugged tight against his torso. I smiled through the kiss, running my hands through his hair before tugging slightly to pull him back. He groaned louder at that, and that was tucked away in my mind to explore further at another time.

“There’s a lot we’ll need to do if we’re serious about giving this a shot.” He gave me an ‘are you crazy?’ look before diving in to nibble down my jaw and neck. I closed my eyes at the sensation, fingers tightening their grasp in his hair, and he bit my shoulder in response. “I want to get to know you, have you get to know me.”

“I fully intend on taking you out every night: restaurants, the theater, walks along the Sidra, flights whenever you desire,” he mumbled against my neck. His hands went back to my lower back, applying a bit more pressure than his previous ministrations and I couldn’t hold back my moan at how good that felt. I felt his smirk but found I didn’t care. “We can include an infinite number of back rubs in the deal, if you’d like.”

“I’ll need to figure out what to do about my position in Dawn.” I tilted my head to the side, encouraging him to continue his teasing assault.

“'Emissary’ doesn’t have the same ring as ‘Princess,’ but I’m certain both Rhys and Thesan will appreciate having someone to delegate between the courts. Or perhaps you can move your school of healers here.” I hummed at the thought, genuinely appreciative that he is willing to not only hear me out, but help in starting to sort and plan.

“I also need to learn if Nesta genuinely hates me.” He paused to scoff, and I can practically feel his eyes roll.

“She is neither of our concerns. Things are awkward now. They won’t always be. Next?” I smiled, going back to running my fingers through his hair and I felt a rumble through his chest.

“More of a concern for you: I hope you’re fully prepared for constant unexpected visits from Helion.” With a growl, he flipped us over so that I was pinned beneath him on the bed, and I looked up at him with surprise. His eyes were dark as he looked over me, moving my hands above my head as he laced our fingers together.

“Rule number one, Princess: Never allow another male’s name to pass through those delectable lips while I’m lavishing you. I’ll let it pass for now as we process and plan, but please take note that never again will you get away with it without punishment.” My brows lifted, all sorts of thoughts running through my mind about what types of punishment he could dole out, and I laughed as his eyes darkened further.

Wanting to placate him (I’ve heard stories about how territorial Illyrians could be and I have no intention of pushing my luck. Yet), I squeezed his hands in mine, raising myself slightly to place kisses on his jaw, his cheeks, his nose, his neck, then finally his lips. We smiled into the kiss, all thoughts of other males far from our minds.

I leaned back, letting my head fall against the mattress as I looked up at him. I felt like I could be glowing under his attention and affection, and he smiled softly as he looked over me. “I swear to you now, Eir, no matter what obstacles come before us, we’ll face them together.” I felt my breath freeze in my lungs, whether it was hearing him say my name for the first time since the bond snapped in place, or for the possible promise of not being abandoned by this incredible male, I wasn’t sure.

“For as long as you’ll have me?” I whispered, feeling tears start to build. He removed one of his hands from mine to wipe at the tears that have started to fall.

“For all of our days.”

#cassian x reader #cassian x oc #cassian acotar #acotar #bri writes

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kjmsupremacist · 1 year

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pink (like the holes in your heart) (ryujin/yeji)

Yeji leads a completely ordinary life—she works in a cafe by day, and dances at a club by night. She has friends, and her life is good. For the most part, she’s content. But one night, she meets a hot older woman, and opens a new world full of new dangers and new delights.

Chapter 2 | prev next mlist

Characters: Yeji, Ryujin, the rest of itzy

Genre: romance, fluff, angst, smut, age gap, stripper!au

Pairing: Ryujin/Yeji

Warnings: AGE GAP (older ryujin, younger yeji), d/s themes, mommy kink, bdsm and general rough treatment, alcohol mentions, sex work (nothing wild)

Rating: Explicit

Length: 9.9k

I put this disclaimer on all my age gaps - I don’t condone large age gaps in real life as these relationships tend to have an imbalanced power dynamic. However, because this is fiction, I can warp the world to my liking and guarantee everything is the way I want. Also, it’s fiction, and we’re all just here to have fun. If you don’t think you’re going to have fun, you can leave the way you came. I promise it’ll be fine.

listen to the official playlist here!

The haze lasts through the following morning, but dissipates by the afternoon. Yeji takes Yuna and Chaeryeong out to a fancy dinner, paying with a couple of the hundred dollar bills that the woman tipped her with. They all giggle when the waiter’s eyes nearly pop out of his head at the sight of them.

The next afternoon sees Yeji and Yuna at their cafe, Yuna on the register and Yeji at the bar making drinks. It’s the middle of the week, so not horribly busy, which means they can gossip between waves of customers. Yuna tells her about the professor who’s being investigated for a multitude of Title IX violations, each worse than the last. Yeji makes faces and offers snide commentary as she cleans their tools off.

They’re getting near the end of their shift when the bell on the door rings. Yeji doesn’t look up at first, intent on getting a stain out of a mug.

“Welcome in, how can I help you today?” Yuna chirps.

“Could I get a medium latte, please? To go.” The voice is familiar, and Yeji snaps her head up.

It’s the woman from that night. She’s in professional wear this time, a stylish grey pantsuit with a crisp white button-down underneath. She has a sleek black shoulder bag and a silver watch; it flashes in the light as she taps her card to the reader. Yeji didn’t even realize she’d completed the transaction. Her ears are full of ringing.

Yeji ducks her head, heart racing, accepting the cup from Yuna and getting started on the espresso shots. Maybe she doesn’t recognize me, Yeji thinks wildly. I’ll just pretend I don’t know her. It was dark in the club, anyway, and I was wearing lots of makeup.

And not much of anything else, a different voice in her head supplies unhelpfully.

She turns the cup over in her hands. Ryujin. Her name is Ryujin. It sticks in Yeji’s brain without her even trying, but she repeats it anyway. Ryujin. She steams the milk, taps the pitcher on the counter, then pours it carefully into the cup. She considers a heart for the latte art, but decides that’s a little too forward and goes with a swan instead.

“Latte for Ryujin,” Yeji calls, setting the drink on the pickup counter and hoping her voice doesn’t shake.

Ryujin strolls up, and it takes Yeji one look to know she’s completely busted. She’s smirking, and her gaze pins Yeji to the spot. She reaches for her drink but doesn’t pick it up. “Hi,” she says softly.

“Hi,” Yeji manages.

“Now the club I could understand, but what’s a pretty girl like you doing in a cafe?” Ryujin picks up the latte, studying the art; Yeji thinks she sees amusement flash across her face. “You’re far too talented to spend your life making coffee.” She takes a sip and nods. “As good as your coffee is.”

Yeji doesn’t know what to say. Thank you? Or sorry my job isn’t prestigious enough for you, some of us are poor? “We really shouldn’t be talking to each other,” she says instead. “Privacy is important.”

“Indeed.” Ryujin reaches into her pocket and produces a business card. “Well, since I know about your day job, it’s only fair that you know about mine.” She slides it across the counter to Yeji. “Mutually assured destruction, hm?”

Yeji takes it, unsure. “You really want to give this to me?”

“You don’t seem malicious,” Ryujin says with a smile. “Working tonight?”

“Ah, no,” Yeji says, truthfully. “Later this week, though.”

“Then I’ll see you around.” Ryujin’s eyes linger on her; there’s nothing too intense about it, but Yeji gets the distinct feeling that she’s being carefully observed. “Yeji.”

And with that, she’s gone, leaving behind the faint scent of cologne.

Yeji looks down at the business card. It’s a matte black with gold lettering. Shin Ryujin. A & R Director. All In Entertainment. There’s an address, an email, and a list of phone numbers. Yeji zeroes in on the one labeled “c.” Is this her way of giving me her number?

“Was that her?” Yuna’s speaking just above a whisper, even though they’re alone in the shop.

“Hm?” Yeji looks up and sees Yuna looking back at her intently.

“Your sugar mommy from the club,” Yuna says, and Yeji groans.

“She’s not my—yes, that was the woman from a couple days ago.” She holds up the business card. “She gave me this.”

“Ooh, lemme see!”

“No.” Yeji pockets it. “It would be bad practice to give out my client’s personal information.”

“You’re no fun,” Yuna complains.

“I don’t want to get fired,” Yeji says, giving her an exasperated look.

“I know.” Yuna blinks. “So are you gonna call her?”

“What, on her work cell? Or the front desk?” Yeji shakes her head, cringing at the thought. “What would I even say? No, if she wants to see me again, she can come back to the club. She knows where to find me.”

* * *

Yeji heads to Chaeryeong’s place for dinner that night. She decides to leave the business card at home—what she said to Yuna was true, and it should go double for someone else who works at Crown, even if that someone is her best friend.

“You said you had news,” Chaeryeong says when she opens the door.

“Hello to you too,” Yeji says, slipping inside.

“Yes, hello.” To her credit, Chaeryeong does give her a hug and usher her into her living room. “Sorry, I’m just nosy! Sit. Do you want something to drink?”

“I’ll drink after I eat,” Yeji says, settling on the couch and opening a pair of chopsticks.

Chaeryeong sits too, untying the takeout bags. “Okay, so what happened?”

“The woman from the other night,” Yeji says. “She stopped by the cafe.”

Chaeryeong freezes. “What the fuck? How did she know you were there?”

“I don’t think she did,” Yeji defends. “We are near the business district, I think she just popped by for a coffee. It sounded like she’d been there before, she knew exactly what she was ordering.”

“Yeah, and you’ve been working there for how long?” Chaeryeong argues. “You’ve never seen her before.”

“I usually don’t work afternoons,” Yeji points out, which is true. “Maybe it’s her afternoon stop.”

“Right.” Chaeryeong sounds entirely unconvinced. “So what did she say?”

“Something about how my talent is wasted in a cafe,” Yeji begins. Chaeryeong makes a noise of protest. “No, I know. I don’t think she meant it to be so condescending, though.”

“Why are you giving her so much benefit of the doubt?” Chaeryeong asks. “Just because she’s hot? You don’t even like women.”

Yeji chews on her lower lip. “I dunno, maybe I do,” she says slowly. Chaeryeong raises her eyebrows. “The dance I gave her—there was something there! I’m usually really prudent with my customers, you know that. But…” She shakes her head. “There was something about her. I think… I’d like to chase that, find out what it was, exactly.”

Chaeryeong’s eyes soften. “That’s fair,” she agrees.

“Anyway,” Yeji says, deciding not to have a sexuality crisis in Chaeryeong’s living room, “she gave me her business card, saying, like, if she knows my day job then it’s only fair I know hers so we both have blackmail material?”

“Where does she work?” Chaeryeong asks immediately.

“You know I can’t tell you that,” Yeji replies. “Crown’s all about discretion. Mom would have kittens.”

“I know, but just this once?” Chaeryeong pouts at her, but Yeji knows she’s joking.

“No,” Yeji says, swatting her anyway. “What I will tell you is that she’s a director at some big, fancy company.”

“You better be careful,” Chaeryeong says, sobering and pointing her chopsticks at her. “Those exec types are not to be messed with.”

“I’m not messing! I told her I was working later this week, and she said she’d see me around. That’s all.” Yeji shoves a piece of broccoli into her mouth decisively.

“Well,” Chaeryeong says, “just remember that it’s best to milk her of all the money you can get, and then leave it at that. Don’t get involved, and definitely don’t let her do you any favors. Because then you’ll belong to her, and that’s too dangerous.”

“I just don’t think she’s like that,” Yeji says.

“Well, there has to be something in it for her,” Chaeryeong points out. “For her to be giving you this kind of attention.”

Yeji rolls her eyes. “Yeah, that I’m young and hot, duh.”

Chaeryeong shoves her, and Yeji laughs.

Yeji knows Chaeryeong’s right, but she can’t help but think about Ryujin throughout the week. She likes the way she feels when Ryujin’s eyes are on her. It’s scary, but it’s also exhilarating, and Yeji doesn’t know what to do with that.

Thursday and Friday pass. Yeji works a full shift both nights, and though she keeps an eye out, she doesn’t catch a single glimpse of Ryujin. Either she’s really good at hiding, or she’s just busy. Yeji has a feeling it’s the latter—it might be self-centered of her, but she has to imagine that if Ryujin were there, she would seek Yeji out. Still, she can’t help but feel a little disappointed. She doesn’t know what to do with that, either.

Saturday night comes, and Yeji has another solo dance scheduled. She leafs through her wardrobe carefully. Her hope that Ryujin will be there has started to dwindle, but she wants to look extra nice just in case. After a lot of contemplating, she settles on a gold set with black detailing—a pretty bra with black lacing up the center and the straps, and a matching thong that has cutouts in the waistband. The bottom half of the waistband she lets settle naturally; the elastic strings on the top she hooks on her waist above her hip bones. She twists in the mirror, adds a lacy black thigh garter with some gold jewelry, and plucks up a pair of flashy gold pumps. If Ryujin is there tonight, she won’t be able to miss her.

“Oh wow, Lucy,” a girl named Winter gushes when Yeji steps out of her cargo pants backstage. “I love that set! It’s so pretty on you.”

“Thank you,” Yeji replies, smoothing the straps of the waistband. “I wanted to stand out tonight.”

“You look like C-3PO,” Chaeryeong says, but she bends down to kiss the top of Yeji’s head, grinning. “Kidding. I love the way that bra makes your tits look. Everybody’s gonna want you.”

“You think?” Yeji asks.

“Yes,” Chaeryeong says quietly. “Even her, if she ever shows up.”

“It’s not for her,” Yeji lies. “It’s for me.”

“Okay,” Chaeryeong says mildly.

Yeji finishes getting ready early, says hi to Mom, and then goes to wait in the wings so she can watch the other girls perform. She smiles, watching Karina and Winter’s duet. Maybe she and Chaeryeong should do something like that; though Yeji can’t see the audience, she hears cheers go up. They seem quite popular. She files it away to pitch to Chaeryeong later.

Karina and Winter are waving to the crowd. Yeji stands, whispering, “Great job!” when they pass her in the wings. Karina squeezes her arm and mouths thank you in response.

The lights change, and Yeji straightens her back and strolls out onto the stage, offering the crowd a smirk and a wave, taking her position in the center of the stage. It’s a choreography she’s practiced for a while, so it comes easily, her limbs already familiar with the moves.

She tells herself not to search through the audience, but she finds her eyes flitting from face to face as she dances. There’s something to be said for eye contact—it makes the dance feel more personal—but that’s not Yeji’s end goal.

And then she lands on a familiar face, and nearly freezes.

It’s Ryujin, alone in the crowd. She’s wearing an oversized black suit jacket and what looks like a cropped leather tank top. Her nails are a glossy black; Yeji can see them against the vibrant blue of the drink she’s holding in one hand. Their eyes meet, and Ryujin raises the martini glass to her lips, holding Yeji’s gaze over the rim.

Yeji tears her eyes away, refocusing on her performance, but it would be a lie to say she doesn’t think of Ryujin with every move she makes. Yes, she’s in front of an audience, but this dance has become for Ryujin, and Ryujin alone. She knows Ryujin knows it, can feel her eyes following her even though she doesn’t look back once.

At last, her song is over. She blows a few kisses and hurries backstage to do a couple of touch-ups. Chaeryeong is there, fighting with one of the straps on her bra.

“Lemme help,” Yeji says, coming up behind her. She adjusts it carefully, then looks up over Chaeryeong’s shoulder and catches her eye in the mirror. “She’s here,” she says softly. “She saw me.”

Chaeryeong smiles, turning around and brushing a strand of Yeji’s hair out of her face. “Good. Go get the fattest paycheck of your life,” she says.

Yeji swallows. “What if I don’t want her to pay me?” she whispers. “What if I just want her?”

Chaeryeong sighs, but she doesn’t lose her smile. “Then go get her,” she says softly. Yeji blinks in surprise. “Look,” she says. “I’m not saying it’s smart. But this is bigger than money, and bigger than her. You think you like her? You think you can learn something about yourself in the process?” Yeji nods. “Then just be safe. That’s all I can ask.” She squeezes Yeji’s hand.

Yeji squeezes back. “Thanks,” she manages.

“You look hot,” Chaeryeong continues. “She’ll be stupid to say no.” She nudges Yeji. “Go,” she says. “I need to fix my makeup.”

“Okay.” Yeji lets go of her hand and walks out the door and onto the floor. She weaves between people, nodding hello to a few regulars, but not pausing as she heads to where she saw Ryujin when she was onstage.

She’s still there, waiting for her. Her black slacks are carefully tailored; they fit perfectly around her waist, and Yeji tries not to stare at the curve of her hips, her thighs. Ryujin smiles when she sees her, purple lipstick in stark contrast against her perfect white teeth, and everything around Yeji seems to fall away. Even the music seems faint. All Yeji can hear is the pounding of her heart. The lights strobe overhead, and Yeji has to watch Ryujin’s mouth to make out what she says.

“Hey, babygirl.”

Yeji tries not to melt. She gets closer, so they can actually hear each other, and then says, “Where’s your girlfriend? Or did you not bring her this time?”

Ryujin blinks, startled, but then understanding dawns and she laughs. “Getting jealous already?” she teases. “But all I did was give you my number.”

“You gave me your business card,” Yeji retorts. “What was I supposed to do, call and leave a message with your secretary as ‘Lucy from the club’?”

Ryujin laughs again. “I guess that’s fair,” she says. “No, the woman with me last time isn’t my girlfriend. She’s a good friend of mine, that’s all.”

“Noted,” Yeji says, somewhat placated.

“I meant what I said, though,” Ryujin continues. “Your talent is wasted at that cafe. And—it’s wasted here.”

Yeji bristles. The coffee shop is one thing—making lattes has nothing to do with dancing. Her job here, though, is another matter. “Being a stripper is a perfectly valid profession, and the only reason society considers it indecent is because of puritanical culture and sexism, and it’s really rich of you to look down on my job when you’re literally a customer h—”

“That’s not what I meant,” Ryujin cuts in gently. “I meant you could go professional. Today. If you wanted. You’re not just good at shaking your ass, you can actually, really dance. You know what I do for a living. I would know.” Yeji quiets, surprised. “I have a great deal of respect for dancers and sex workers, but it’s just a different kind of work. And you have the skill to be a performer on an international stage. You’re right, it would be hypocritical of me to have something against your job here. But I don’t.”

Yeji feels clumsy as she tries to find the words to respond. “Oh. Thank you, then. But…” She thinks about all her dance lessons as a kid, all her big dreams, her crushed hopes. She’d wanted to be a singer once upon a time, hadn’t she? And she’d failed. “If I was that good, I would already have a job somewhere else,” she says. “And besides, I have friends here now. And the money’s good. I don’t want to abandon this.”

Ryujin nods. “I can understand that,” she agrees. “Then—do you have time for another dance? For me?”

Yeji presses her lips together. Then go get her, Chaeryeong’s voice echoes in her brain. Yeji wants more. Yeji wants her. It feels wrong for Ryujin to pay her for a dance when they could be doing something else instead.

She shakes her head, looking up at Ryujin, and sees disappointment flicker across her face. “I don’t want to dance for you,” she says. “I think I want—I want something else.” The disappointment clears, replaced by sharp interest. “And I don’t want you to pay me for it. Be-because I want it.”

Ryujin’s lips stretch into a lazy smile. Yeji almost feels like a mouse in the jaws of a cat—caught, death imminent and inevitable. But where there should be fear, there’s something else. Oh. Desire.

“I see,” Ryujin says slowly. “That sounds good, too.”

“Can you wait until the end of my shift?” Yeji asks, feeling a little stupid. “It’ll be around three, I know it’s late.”

“Not a problem, baby,” Ryujin says, and Yeji has to suppress a shiver. “It’s a Saturday, I can stay up late.” She turns, points at a booth near the bar. “Make lots of money, okay? I’ll be right there, watching you. Come get me when you’re done.”

“Okay,” Yeji agrees dizzily.

The rest of the night passes slow and excruciating. Yeji tries to keep her focus, but she knows her customers can tell she’s a little distracted. She feels Ryujin’s eyes on her wherever she goes, can picture her expression even when she’s not looking—eyes half-lidded, but gaze clear and full of intent. Whenever she checks to see if Ryujin really is still there, she finds her staring back, same as always.

Finally, Yeji’s shift ends and she waves to Ryujin to let her know she’ll be out in a minute. Ryujin nods, and Yeji ducks into the dressing room. The club stays open until five on the weekends, but Yeji rarely works the latest shift—Mom doesn’t like the younger girls to be out super late.

Chaeryeong’s taking her makeup off the mirror, and her eyes snap to Yeji as soon as she enters.

“I think I’m going home with her,” Yeji whispers when she sits down.

“Keep your location on,” Chaeryeong replies. “Women can be murderers too.”

“That’s it? You’re not going to tell me not to?” Yeji asks as she unclasps her bra. “Thank god. I forgot how itchy the glitter is.” She puts on a simple, comfy bra instead. Ryujin’s already seen her dressed up. She doesn’t need to keep the lingerie.

“I know there’s no stopping you,” Chaeryeong says. “And if something happens, I’ll just ask Yuna for the CCTV footage from the cafe.”

“You listen to too much true crime,” Yeji replies, stepping into a clean pair of plain cotton undies and then shimmying her cargo pants up. “I’ll be fine. I won’t get murdered. I promise.”

“You better not.” Chaeryeong waits for Yeji to finish pulling her shirt on, then reaches out for a hug. “Text me when you get there, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Yeji salutes, then zips up her bag and slings it over her shoulder, bending to adjust her shoes. “Okay, I’m off. Have a good night. Get home safe.”

“Thank you,” Chaeryeong says.

Yeji stops by Mom’s office to punch out and hear her total. Less than usual for a Saturday night, but Yeji’s about to go meet the reason why, so she thanks Mom with a smile and a wave, and heads back out to the bar.

Ryujin is exactly where she left her, and she stands when she sees her approaching, tapping away at her phone. She looks up when Yeji reaches her table. “Ordered us an Uber,” she says. “All set?”

Yeji nods. “I think so.”

“Then c’mon. It’ll be here in a few minutes.” Ryujin sets down a few bills next to her empty glass and leads them to the door.

It’s a little chilly out, but not unbearable, so Yeji doesn’t bother trying to find her jacket. Ryujin takes them to the curb, leaning up against a signpost. She seems content with not talking, staring out at the street. Yeji follows her gaze and sees nothing in particular—just neon lights and the occasional car. It’s late, nearing four at this point, and the city is quieting.

“I have a confession,” Yeji blurts.

“Yeah?” Ryujin gazes back at her, calm and a little amused.

“You’re going to be the first woman I’ve ever been with,” Yeji says, heart hammering. “I mean, you’re the first woman I’ve ever been interested in.”

Ryujin smiles. “I could tell,” she says gently. “I don’t mind. I don’t care about your history, as long as you’re sure you’re interested in me.”

Yeji nods emphatically. It’s confusing, and she can unpack what it all means and figure out exactly how she feels later, but what is crystal clear in her head is that she likes Ryujin. A lot. “I’m sure,” she says.

“That’s good, then.” Ryujin’s phone buzzes in her hand, and she peels herself off the pole. A sleek black car pulls up to the curb. “This is us.”

Yeji tries her hardest not to look surprised. The driver gets out and opens the door for them, taking Yeji’s bag and placing it in the trunk. It must be the luxury service, Yeji thinks to herself as she ducks into the car. She’d heard of it, but considering she can barely afford a regular Uber, she doesn’t even know the name. She glances sideways at Ryujin, who’s clicking her seatbelt into place. She knew she was rich, but somehow it hadn’t really hit her until right now. I wonder what her place looks like.

“Are you hungry?” Ryujin asks softly once they pull away and head down the street.

“A little,” Yeji admits.

“Good, me too,” Ryujin replies. “I have some leftovers we can heat up when we get home.”

“Sounds good,” Yeji agrees. When we get home. Suddenly, Yeji’s life seems small and lonely. Imagine if she had someone she could come home to every night after work! Sure, she has her friends, but they’re all their own people, and though they love each other very much, and spend what is probably an inordinate amount of time together, there’s still plenty of time leftover where it’s just Yeji, by herself.

And it’s not that she can’t stand her own company. She doesn’t mind being alone; solitude is good, necessary. But… She watches Ryujin out of the corner of her eye. The idea that tomorrow, and for many, many more days of her life, she’ll be going back to her empty apartment feels a little miserable.

But that’s not tonight. Yeji gives herself a little shake. Tonight she has an entirely separate set of problems to worry about, and they start and end with the woman sitting next to her. Though Ryujin told her not to worry, Yeji can’t help but be a little anxious. She’s not a virgin, but sex with a woman has to be different, right? She’d never really considered it before, so she’d never even thought about what the rules were, what she needed to keep in mind, what she didn’t need to worry about.

It’s almost like Ryujin can feel her building herself up into a panic. She reaches out and places a hand on Yeji’s knee, rubbing her thumb back and forth, gentle and comforting. Yeji looks up at her, and Ryujin smiles. It’s okay, baby, she mouths, and Yeji finds herself relaxing into the seat.

Ryujin keeps her hand on Yeji’s knee until the car rolls to a stop outside a very tall and very fancy-looking apartment building. They step out of the car, retrieve Yeji’s bag, thank the driver. Ryujin offers Yeji her arm again, and Yeji takes it, feeling a thrill of excitement run through her whole body.

They head into the elevator, and Ryujin punches the 13 button. “You’re not superstitious, are you?” she asks, grinning at Yeji.

Yeji giggles and shakes her head. “Not at all.”

“I always thought it was so silly, skipping certain numbers and pretending that does anything,” Ryujin says, still grinning. “I mean, you skip thirteen and go straight to fourteen, there’s still a thirteenth floor, it just has a different name. It bothered me a lot as a kid because it didn’t make any sense.” She shrugs one shoulder. “Though I suppose I’ve always been one for staring a problem right in the teeth instead of dressing it up.”

Yeji smiles. “I’m the same way,” she agrees. The elevator dings and the doors slide open. “But I think there’s room for harmless make-believe. Skipping the thirteenth floor is harmless, right?”

Ryujin nods as she leads Yeji down the hall to the only door on this side of the building, keys jingling in her hand. “That’s true, too.” She pushes the door open and enters, holding it for Yeji. “Shoes off, if you would.”

Yeji is already bending down to unzip her boots, and makes a face. “Please, I’m not an animal,” she says, and Ryujin laughs. Yeji savors the sound. It’s sweet and melodic and surprisingly bright. “At least, not about things like this.”

Ryujin laughs again as she closes the door, locking it and toeing her white sneakers off, nudging them into line against the wall. “Good,” she says simply. “Here, put your bag by the stairs, we can take it up later.”

Yeji does as she’s told and then follows Ryujin around the corner and into her kitchen. Ryujin turns on some lights and then pulls open her fridge. “We can heat up some tteokbokki, if that’s ok?”

“Yes please,” Yeji says, hovering by the counter.

Ryujin sets a container on the counter and then sticks her head back in the fridge. “Anything to drink?”

“Just water, please,” Yeji replies.

Ryujin emerges with a yuja tea bottle, grinning. “So polite,” she teases. She uncovers the container and sticks it in the microwave, then gets a glass and fills it with water for Yeji, strolling up and handing it to her. “Cheers,” she says, clinking her unopened bottle of tea against the glass.

“Cheers,” Yeji giggles back, charmed, and takes a sip.

Ryujin sets her bottle down, and then shrugs off her suit jacket, draping it over the back of one of the chairs at the breakfast bar. She holds out her hand. “Dance with me.”

Yeji sets her glass down too, a little flustered but pleased, accepting Ryujin’s hand and letting her pull her closer. Ryujin wraps her other arm around her waist, bracing her hand against the small of Yeji’s back, and Yeji lets her other hand settle on Ryujin’s shoulder. Ryujin leads them in a little two-step sway around the kitchen, smiling at Yeji, and Yeji finds herself grinning back, unable to school her expression at all.

“Ready, and twirl,” Ryujin says, extending her arm. Yeji laughs, twirling a little clumsily. Ryujin dips her, and then brings her back up, much closer than before. “You’re a natural,” she says, and Yeji giggles again, breathless.

“Mm, it’s almost like I dance for a living,” she says.

Ryujin’s smile grows wider. “Hm,” she hums in agreement. “Good thing, too. Or we would’ve never met.”

Yeji’s heart rate jumps. “Yeah,” she replies. “Good thing.”

Ryujin tilts her head, still swaying them. “I wanted to kiss you that night. Last week. You’re so pretty, baby.”

“You could kiss me now,” Yeji blurts.

“Oh, could I?” Ryujin’s tone is teasing and playful; she leans closer still.

Yeji’s pretty sure she’s shaking, but she holds her ground. “Mm-hm,” she says, and Ryujin leans in and kisses her.

Her lips are soft and warm against Yeji’s. She’s gentle but firm, and Yeji kisses back almost hungrily, pressing closer. Heat floods her whole body, and any reservations she might have had dissipate instantly. Yeji wants. She’s never wanted like this before, and she’s dizzy with it now, head spinning—

And then the microwave beeps, and she almost screams. Ryujin pulls away, laughing. Her lipstick is just a little messy, but it almost makes her more beautiful. Yeji gasps softly, trying to slow her heart, trying to come back down to earth.

“That scared me so bad,” she admits, and Ryujin laughs even harder as she opens the microwave and extracts the leftovers.

“Sorry,” she says, setting the container now and kissing Yeji’s temple before going to find some chopsticks. “Sit, baby.”

Yeji sits, accepting the chopsticks that Ryujin passes to her and picking up a rice cake, blowing on it so she doesn’t scorch her mouth. Ryujin does the same, watching Yeji take her first bite.

“Oh my god, it’s so good,” Yeji gasps.

Ryujin grins. “It’s my friend’s restaurant,” she says. “She’s one of the best cooks I know.” She takes a bite. “Maybe we can go sometime. She’ll get us a private room if you’re worried.”

“I’d like that,” Yeji manages. “If it’s this good reheated, I can’t imagine what her food is like fresh.”

They finish eating quickly with minimal chitchat, both clearly more interested in what comes next. Ryujin throws their chopsticks in the sink, rinsing out the takeout container and throwing it in the recycling. Yeji sips at her water as she waits, feeling a little useless.

Finally, Ryujin dries off her hands and turns to Yeji with a smile. “Alright, baby. Come with me.”

Yeji retrieves her bag and follows Ryujin up the stairs to her room. It’s only now that she really takes in her surroundings. Ryujin’s apartment is huge, and gorgeous. There are beautiful windows that look out over the city in almost every room. The floors are sleek hardwood, the walls painted a pristine white, the doorknobs all a flawless metal. Ryujin opens her bedroom door, turning on a lamp, and Yeji’s eyes grow wide.

She has a huge, beautiful black dresser along one wall, next to a small door that Yeji assumes leads to her closet. There’s a big jewelry organizer on top of the dresser, and a bunch of skincare products filed neatly in a box on the other side. Behind the dresser is a big, circular mirror with a brushed gold frame. Ryujin’s bed is simple, but sturdy. It looks like it’s made of bamboo, with a set of sheets in varying shades of muted blue. There’s a big window here, too; Ryujin goes to it and taps a panel on the wall, and blinds whir into place, giving them privacy from the neighbors across the street. There’s another door on the other side of the bed that’s been left ajar, and Yeji can make out pristine marble counters in the dark—it must be her bathroom.

“This place is stunning,” Yeji says softly, and Ryujin smiles.

“Thank you,” she says. “It helps that I don’t have kids. More money to spend on myself, you know. Go ahead and put your bag down by my dresser.”

Yeji drops her bag on the floor, still gazing around. There’s a huge art piece on the wall opposite the window, some pretty abstract painting in blues and golds. She startles when she feels a hand on her wrist.

“I’m going to take my makeup off,” Ryujin says. “Would you like to as well? You’re probably gonna get messy.”

Yeji almost shivers, snapping her eyes back to Ryujin. “Oh! Yes, please.” Maybe with a man she would’ve been nervous to reveal her bare face so quickly, but Ryujin will have to reveal hers, too. Besides, Yeji has a feeling Ryujin won’t think any differently of her, makeup or no makeup.

They head into the bathroom; Ryujin flicks on a light over the vanity. She has a gorgeous recessed tub in one corner, and a huge standing shower in the other. The tub is made of the same black marble as her counters; the floor is some kind of white tile, and it goes all the way up the walls of the shower, too. Ryujin pops open a container and pulls out a couple of cotton pads, pumping them on top of some kind of micellar water, and then handing a couple to Yeji.

Together, they take their makeup off, side by side and silent in front of the mirror. There’s something so sweet and intimate about it—two women, carefully wiping away the faces they show the public and letting each other see what’s underneath. Yeji rinses her face off and then straightens to find Ryujin already offering her a soft hand towel to pat her skin dry.

“Moisturizer,” Ryujin murmurs, holding out a bottle and squeezing a pump out onto Yeji’s palm. Yeji smiles as she warms it between her hands and then taps it into her skin. There’s a comfort in this, an understanding Yeji has never had with any other partner.

“Thanks,” she says belatedly.

“Lemme see you, pretty girl,” Ryujin murmurs, and Yeji turns.

Ryujin looks less severe now, gentler and more subtle, but still just as attractive. The fine lines on her face are a little more prominent, but Yeji finds that she likes them, likes that Ryujin looks a little more mature. It makes her feel safe.

“You have a freckle on the tip of your nose,” Ryujin whispers, smiling.

Yeji touches it, giggling. “Yeah,” she says. “Have had it since I was a kid.”

Ryujin leans forward, coaxing Yeji’s hand out of the way with a finger, and places a soft kiss on the spot. Yeji giggles. “It’s cute,” she says. “Okay, c’mon.” She takes one of Yeji’s hands, pulling her back out into the bedroom and turning the bathroom light off as she goes. “Get comfy,” she says, dropping Yeji’s hand and nodding her towards the bed.

Yeji sits, pulling her socks off and tossing them underhand into the corner while Ryujin goes to the lamp she turned on when they first came in and dims it. Satisfied, she returns to the bed, pausing to slip her socks off as well, one hand braced on the mattress, before climbing up to join Yeji.

“Hi, baby,” she says softly, crawling up next to her and giving her a kiss.

“Hi, mommy,” Yeji whispers back, and Ryujin’s smile turns a little darker.

“Now that you mention it, we should probably talk about that,” Ryujin says.

“What?” Yeji asks, surprised.

“We’ve already established that we both like when you call me mommy,” Ryujin says. “So what else? What do you like, baby?”

Yeji considers it, thinking back to her past relationships. Her sex life has always been rather vanilla, she supposes. It’s not that she’s unaware of the options, it’s just that she never really knew how to bring it up. But now Ryujin is here, asking, and…

“I’m not sure,” Yeji admits softly. “I’ve never really—explored like that before.”

Ryujin remains unfazed. “But you want to,” she says.

Yeji’s breath hitches in her throat. “Yes.”

“Lucky for you, I have plenty of experience,” Ryujin says, corners of her lips curling up dangerously. “We can try things out, see what you like. The important thing is you make sure to tell me if something feels good or bad. Okay?” Yeji nods. “If something is bad, I want you to say red. Like stop. Even if I don’t ask you, okay?”

“Okay,” Yeji agrees.

“I’ll check in from time to time, though, just in case. If everything is good, then you can say green,” Ryujin continues. “Yellow is somewhere in the middle—just that you’re not sure, that you want to slow down, maybe change something and then keep going, or maybe stop.”

“Like a traffic light,” Yeji giggles.

“Yes,” Ryujin says. “Now, is there anything you’ve been curious about?”

A thousand dirty things pop into Yeji’s head at once. She thinks Ryujin could do just about anything to her and she’d like it, but she should probably start small. “I like calling you mommy because I like—I think I like giving up control. I like the idea of you doing whatever you want with me.”

“Mm, that’s good,” Ryujin says, tone almost blithe. “That’s what I want, too.” Her hands have found their way to Yeji’s waist, touches light and teasing. Yeji realizes she’s leaned back against the headboard, has let Ryujin corner her. “You want to give yourself over to me, baby?”

“Yes,” Yeji breathes. She imagines it, imagines lying pliant, on her back or on her knees, following Ryujin’s every word. She imagines Ryujin sticking a couple of fingers in her mouth and making her gag on them, not letting her speak even when tears gather in her eyes. She imagines Ryujin making her come again and again, with her fingers or her tongue or a toy, or making her ride her thigh and not letting her stop, even when she gets tired and her legs shake. She imagines Ryujin tying her up and grabbing her hair and holding Yeji’s face against her pussy, and—

“What are you thinking about, babygirl?” Ryujin asks, pinching her waist and making her squeak. “You gotta tell me, or we won’t be able to make it happen.”

“I, I—” Yeji’s head already feels a little foggy. She doesn’t know the words to say what she wants. “I don’t know how to explain,” she says finally, sending Ryujin a helpless look.

Ryujin, luckily, shows mercy. “That’s okay, baby,” she soothes. “How about I suggest a few things, and you can tell me yes or no?”

“Okay,” Yeji agrees, settling.

“You liked it when I pinched you,” Ryujin says. “Yes or no?”

“Yes,” Yeji says.

“You think you like pain?” Ryujin asks. Her hands have traveled down to the button of Yeji’s pants. “Can I?” She taps the button.

“Yes,” Yeji agrees. Suddenly, she wants nothing more than for both of them to be completely naked. Their clothes are just in the way, and she wants to see everything, to show Ryujin everything. “And—yes to pain.”

“Want mommy to spank you?” Ryujin is focused on getting Yeji out of her pants, but her voice is still measured and attentive.

“Yes,” Yeji agrees, lifting her hips so Ryujin can pull her pants down. She does it easily, unhooking the fabric from Yeji’s ankles and dropping her pants somewhere on the floor.

Ryujin bends down and kisses the soft skin of her inner thigh. For all the rough intent of her words, her touch is still gentle. Another kiss, higher this time, close to where Yeji can feel heat and wetness building, close to where Yeji wants so badly for Ryujin to touch her. Another kiss, over the tendon there that’s pulled taut. And then Ryujin raises her head, self-satisfied smirk only growing when Yeji whines.

“And you like that I’m older than you,” Ryujin says softly. “Yes or no?”

Yeji swallows. “Yes,” she whispers. “I like it a lot.”

“Mm.” Ryujin comes back up to Yeji, gives her a quick kiss on the point of her jaw. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Yeji says truthfully. There’s just something about it—maybe it’s the same sort of thing that makes her want to submit. Ryujin has all the power, all the control, and Yeji likes that. “I want—” The words are in her brain before she can even think of where they came from, but they’re true. “I want you to take advantage of me, mommy.”

Ryujin kisses the hollow of her throat with a low hum. “Does it make me a bad person if that’s what I want, too?” she murmurs.

Yeji shakes her head. “I don’t think so,” she says. “I’ve come to you willingly, haven’t I?”

“That’s true,” Ryujin says, her voice gaining a hard sort of edge to it. “Practically threw yourself at me tonight, what was I supposed to do?”

“Couldn’t help it,” Yeji says, truthful once again. “Haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

“What a coincidence.” Ryujin’s voice is soft and dangerous. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, either.” She toys with the hem of Yeji’s shirt. “We can talk about the rest later,” she says decisively. “Let’s get the rest of your clothes off so I can eat you out.”

Yeji nods, almost frantically. “Yes, please.”

Ryujin smiles and helps her out of her shirt, then goes to work on her pants while Yeji unclasps her bra. Ryujin’s tiny tank top goes next, and Yeji watches, rapt, as her bra falls away, too, and they’re both left in just their underwear.

Yeji’s seen plenty of tits before—she works in a club, she’s seen it all—but it's never really occurred to her that she likes tits, until now. Ryujin leans in, pressing a kiss to Yeji’s sternum, and Yeji brings a hand up to cup one of them, running her thumb over Ryujin’s nipple and nearly giggling when a tremor passes through her body.

“What was that about never being with a woman before?” Ryujin says, half amusement, half something else. “You seem to know exactly what you’re doing.”

Yeji does it again, flicks her thumb back and forth a couple times. “I’m just doing what I know I like,” she says softly, and Ryujin closes her mouth around one of Yeji’s nipples in response, tongue quick and skilled and so good. Yeji gasps, pleasure flooding her body. She can’t wait to find out how that’s going to feel against her clit.

It seems like Ryujin is thinking the same thing. After a few seconds, she pulls off, sitting back on her heels and out of Yeji’s reach. “More time for that later,” she says when Yeji pouts. “I want to eat you out first.”

“Okay,” Yeji agrees breathlessly. “Yeah, okay.”

“Scoot down a little,” Ryujin says. “Get comfortable.”

Yeji slides down the bed just enough that she ends up half-reclined against Ryujin’s pillows. Ryujin gets situated between her legs, running her hands down the tops of her thighs and leaving goosebumps scattering across Yeji’s skin in their wake. And then she reaches out and finally touches Yeji, palm overturned and fingers gentle, brushing over the fabric of Yeji’s panties.

“You’re so wet already, babygirl,” Ryujin comments, almost offhand. “Already soaked through your panties.”

“Your fault,” Yeji accuses, and Ryujin just laughs.

“Let’s call it a team effort, hm?” She doesn’t need an answer; she hooks her index fingers on the waistband of Yeji’s underwear and pulls them down. Yeji extracts her legs, giggling when Ryujin chucks them over her shoulder. “That’s better. Ready?” She looks up, finds Yeji’s eyes. Yeji nods.

Ryujin slings one of Yeji’s thighs over her shoulder and bends over. Yeji has about a half a second to admire the contours of her back before she can’t think at all, because Ryujin’s tongue is against her clit. She moves it in circles, almost teasing, and then goes in with rough back-and-forth movements. She hardly gives Yeji a chance to adjust, picking up the pace, pressing her face closer.

Yeji’s mouth has dropped open into a silent scream. She shakes, hands whispering across the sheets, trying and failing to find purchase there, something to anchor her. “Mommy,” she gasps, and Ryujin only hums.

Yeji has been eaten out before. But never this well, this quickly. Maybe it’s Ryujin’s age, or maybe it’s that she’s a woman, too, but there’s hardly a learning curve for her. Yeji almost feels embarrassed. She knows she won’t be nearly as good, and she considers apologizing right now. But she can’t, because she can hardly form words. Ryujin slips a finger in her—easy now that she’s practically dripping onto her sheets—and Yeji moans, letting her head loll to the side.

“Mommy,” she whimpers. “More.”

Ryujin doesn’t respond, just adds a second finger and works them in and out of Yeji tirelessly, curling them up as she pulls them out to press against the spot inside her that makes her legs shake. Yeji alternates between rolling her hips up to meet her and trying to squirm away. It’s almost too much, but she wants more, and she realizes that it’s because she’s close already.

She can feel the heat of Ryujin’s breath against her entrance. It’s almost reassuring—at least it’s hard work for Ryujin to make her feel like this. If it were easy, Yeji thinks she’d probably die of embarrassment.

But only after she comes, because everything feels so fucking good, and in the back of her mind, she finds herself almost remorseful. Why had she let herself suffer without sex this good for so many years? The answer, she knows, is just that she didn’t know it was possible to feel like this. It’s not that her past partners had left her unsatisfied, but she has a feeling that this is going to all but ruin her for everyone else.

“Feels so good,” she stutters. “Oh, fuck, Ryujin, mommy, I-I’m close.”

Ryujin raises her head as she adds a third finger. Her lips and chin are slick, glistening with Yeji, and her eyes are bright and happy. “Good, baby?” she asks. Yeji hardly hears her, thinks maybe she manages a nod. The next thing she feels is pain, sharp enough to make her gasp. Ryujin has struck the back of one of her thighs. “I asked you a question.”

Yeji moans, high and broken. “Y-yes, it’s good,” she says. Ryujin doesn’t slow her fingers once; actually, Yeji’s pretty sure she’s sped up.

“Feeling okay?” Ryujin’s voice is the same, but Yeji registers something softer underneath. “Can you give me a color?”

“Green,” Yeji replies immediately. “Please, mommy, hit me again.” There’s a small part of her that balks at the words—she never imagined she’d beg to be hurt. But, then again, it’s different with women. She can trust Ryujin. She’s safe here. “Make me come.”

“Of course, baby,” Ryujin says, tone almost indulgent. She dips her head again, and it takes everything in Yeji not to buck her hips up to meet Ryujin’s mouth. Ryujin hollows her cheeks a little, sucking as she swipes her tongue, back and forth and then around and around, fingers still pumping, other Han soothing over the spot where she struck here, where the tingles of pain are rapidly fading.

Yeji barely realizes Ryujin’s raised her hand before she strikes her again, the pain blooming hot and sweet across her skin. Yeji lets out a shaky moan, and Ryujin hums against her clit and then Yeji is coming, one hand flying to the back of Ryujin’s head, holding her in place as her whole body goes tight. She convulses around Ryujin’s fingers, gasping out whimpers that sound something like mommy, mommy please, and Ryujin doesn’t stop. Yeji’s heart is pounding, her head; pleasure sweeps her whole body in staggering wave after staggering wave. She feels it washing down her legs to her fucking toes, her fingertips, followed by near numbness as Ryujin finally relents, pulling away and crawling up the bed to lavish Yeji with attention.

She feels lips brushing her own and kisses back blindly. Ryujin pushes her tongue past Yeji’s teeth, and Yeji can taste herself. Another tremor runs through her body, and even though she’s still going through the aftershocks of her orgasm, she thinks she could maybe come again. Ryujin hums softly into her mouth, clean hand coming up to stroke her cheek as she pulls back.

“Look at me, baby,” Ryujin whispers. Yeji blinks her eyes open shyly, and finds Ryujin staring back. “Did so good for me,” she murmurs and Yeji preens, fluttering her eyelashes and letting out a soft giggle.

“I don’t think I’ve come that hard in my life,” she admits, and Ryujin chuckles.

“Good,” she says. “Can’t have anybody else making you feel like I do.” She raises her other hand, fingers glistening in the low light. “Help me clean up?”

Yeji leans forward, parting her lips and letting her tongue poke out a little in response. Ryujin smiles, offering her her ring and pinky fingers, dipping her head to take her index and middle fingers herself. Yeji pushes her tongue between the two fingers, licking them clean. Her forehead brushes against Ryujin’s, and when they both pull off, they’re laughing softly. Yeji follows Ryujin with her eyes, rapt, tracing over her smile lines, as Ryujin wipes their spit off on her thigh.

Ryujin brushes some of Yeji’s hair off her forehead with her other hand. “I like when you look at me like that,” she says.

Yeji leans into the touch, not breaking eye contact. “Like what?” she asks.

“Like you have stars in your eyes,” Ryujin says, smiling.

Yeji smiles, too. “I can’t help it,” she says truthfully. She sits up a little straighter, leaning into Ryujin’s space to steal another kiss. “Okay,” she says. “Your turn now. But you’re gonna have to help me.”

Ryujin exhales soft laughter. “Okay,” she replies. “What do you want, baby? You wanna eat me out too?” She tips her head just a little. “You don’t have to.”

Yeji rolls her eyes. “Are you nuts?” she asks. “Yes, I wanna eat you out.”

“Okay, let me see something,” Ryujin says. “Stick your tongue out.” Yeji obeys. “You can go around in circles, right?” Yeji nods, demonstrating, feeling a pleased flush rise to her cheeks when Ryujin’s eyes darken. “Good girl. How ‘bout side to side?” Ryujin demonstrates, sticking her own tongue out and wiggling it back and forth in a perfect line. Yeji hesitates, then tries it too, going slow at first but picking up speed once she gets the hang of it. Ryujin grins. “So talented,” she teases, and Yeji giggles. “Try it like that, like I did with you. Switch it up a little. I’ll tell you if you need to change anything.”

They switch places carefully. There’s something so purposeful about it; one action doesn’t naturally flow into the next, and Yeji used to think that might be kind of unsexy. But she appreciates now that they’re taking it slow, that Ryujin is giving her time to set herself up. Besides, there’s something to be said about being deliberate, about choosing.

Ryujin lies back against her pillows, letting her legs drop open. “Let’s see what you can do, pretty girl,” she murmurs, and Yeji feels something flare in her, a drive to be good, a drive to prove herself.

She bends over Ryujin’s body, pausing to kiss her stomach, first between her ribs and then at the seat of it, the pretty curved line where her belly meets her hips, then lower. She hesitates for a split second, then pushes on. The last thing she sees before she gets too close is pink and pink and pink, dusky and pretty and enticing. Yeji’s nerves slip away. She knows what to do, mostly, and where she doesn’t, Ryujin will help her.

Yeji can smell her, the wet heat of it. It’s earthy and a little sharp, different from Yeji, different from anything she knows. It might be a little gross of her, but it smells good. The short hairs tickle against Yeji’s nose and upper lip as she opens her mouth and presses her tongue against Ryujin’s clit. She takes Ryujin’s hips in her hands to hold herself upright, then circles her tongue around her clit, long, slow movements, building up to an easy rhythm and giving herself a chance to adjust. There’s not much to adjust to, though. She’s not choking on anything, and she doesn’t have to be so careful with her teeth. Sucking dick has its merits to be sure, but this—Yeji pushes her face closer, switching to the side-to-side movements Ryujin just taught her, and is rewarded with a breathy moan.

She raises her gaze and finds Ryujin watching through half-lidded eyes, head lolled to the side. “That’s it, baby,” Ryujin says when she sees Yeji looking. “So good. You’re a natural.” There’s a hint of humor nestled there in the desire, and Yeji smiles against Ryujin’s pussy, swiping her tongue faster. She tastes mild, a little salty, a little bitter, and Yeji makes a mental note to ask Ryujin if she can tongue-fuck her next time so she can have more.

One of Ryujin’s hands comes down to cup the base of her skull. Yeji hums softly, delighted to find it sends shivers through Ryujin’s whole body.

“Don’t even need me to help you,” Ryujin says lowly. “Doing so good. You can go a little slower. Think you can give me one of your fingers, baby? Want you inside.”

Yeji scrambles to obey, planting one hand on the mattress to stabilize herself and fitting her other arm under her body so she can work a finger into Ryujin. This, too, comes easy; she knows what feels good, what doesn’t. Ryujin is so wet, dripping down her knuckles as she begins to move her finger in and out, slow and stuttering as she tries to keep up with her tongue, too. It takes a few minutes of awkward, jerky movements, but Ryujin is patient, murmuring praise. Yeji doesn’t back down, determined to find the right rhythm, and eventually she does, tongue pushed flat and wiggling side to side against Ryujin’’s swollen clit as she pumps her finger in and out. She’s glad she’s not wearing nails, that she clipped them just yesterday and filed them down to let them recover, glad there’s nothing stopping her from giving Ryujin everything.

As Ryujin gets louder, Yeji gets bolder, scraping gently with her teeth to see what will happen. Ryujin moans, nails digging into Yeji’s scalp. “Who taught you that, baby?” Ryujin asks. “Fuck, do it again for me.” Yeji obeys, staying gentle, warmth settling over her body and gathering in her belly when Ryujin shakes.

She adds a second finger, and she’s able to get deeper like this, curling her fingers up and moaning again Ryujin’s clit when Ryujin rolls her hips up to meet her, when she groans low and gravelly in the back of her throat and says, “There, right there, baby.” Yeji’s tongue is getting sore, her lips puffy and probably bruised, her chin covered with seat and spit and Ryujin, her fingers tiring, but she keeps going because Ryujin sounds so good, tastes so good, feels so good. She thinks she could do this forever, maybe, face buried between Ryujin’s thighs, Ryujin’s moans filling the air, Ryujin clenching tight around her fingers, pulling her in.

“Fuck, oh fuck,” Ryujin gasps, and then Yeji feels her pulsing around her fingers as she arches off the bed, bumping Yeji’s nose almost painfully. Yeji doesn’t care, does her best to move with her, keeps circling her tongue and moving her fingers as best she can as Ryujin comes with a moan. Yeji thinks dizzily that maybe it’s the best thing she’s ever heard. She thinks she’s gonna remember it forever, the sound playing and replaying in her mind whenever she gets off next.

After a little while, Ryujin stills and pushes her away, gentle but firm. “Okay, okay,” she gasps and Yeji raises her head, drawing in a huge breath. She realizes now how tired she is, how her body aches, how tight her lungs.

“Was it good, mommy?” she asks breathlessly, crawling to the side and then scooting up towards the pillows.

Ryujin nods, giving her a lazy, satisfied smile. “Yes, baby,” she says, and her voice is all sugar. “You did very good. C’mere.” She holds out her arms and Yeji goes happily, nestling close. “Kiss me.” And Yeji does, pressing her lips to Ryujin’s, kissing her softly, letting her eyes fall shut, letting Ryujin wrap her up in her arms until she’s surrounded, until the whole world is just Ryujin and her lips and her taste and her soft, soft skin.

They break apart after a few moments and just lay there, breathing. Yeji rests her head on Ryujin’s shoulder. She wonders what time it is. Maybe the sun is already on the rise. Maybe it’s been hours. She’s not sure, but she doesn’t care. She could stay here forever, she thinks. She would stay, if Ryujin asked.

“Doing okay?” Ryujin asks finally.

Yeji giggles a little deliriously. It feels like such a silly question. “God, yeah,” she says. “I had fun. Is that weird? I had so much fun, I didn’t know it could be so fun.”

Ryujin laughs, too, the delight rich and clear. “Good,” she says. “I’m glad. I had fun, too.”

They lay together a few minutes more, pressing soft kisses to each other’s palms and letting their laughter ebb away. At last, Ryujin drags them both from the bed. Together they pull the sheets off, throwing them in a heap with their clothes, and then head to the bathroom for a shower. Ryujin has earthy-scented body wash, and Yeji tries to hide how pleased she is to share, happy that the smell will linger on her skin tomorrow, a secret reminder.

Yeji has a few spare pairs of clean underwear in her bag, so she pulls on a pair once they’re both dry, then goes to Ryujin for a shirt. Ryujin has her top drawer open, picking out a pair for herself, and Yeji’s eyes land on a row of dildos in the back, along with a harness.

“You own a strap?” she gasps, swatting Ryujin’s arm. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Didn’t want to scare you,” Ryujin replies, plucking up a pair of underwear and pushing the drawer shut.

“Next time?” Yeji all but demands, pouting. “Want you to fuck me, mommy.”

“God, you’re insatiable,” Ryujin accuses, but she’s grinning. She leans in and kisses Yeji’s forehead. “Yes,” she adds. “Next time.”

They get sleep shirts, then put on fresh sheets together, fluffing the pillows, and climb into bed. Yeji yawns widely, and Ryujin covers her mouth for her, laughing as they both settle down against the pillows.

Yeji curls closer, slotting one of her legs between Ryujin’s. Ryujin runs a hand down her back, touch warm and reassuring, eyes on Yeji, watching her. Yeji blinks back, some joyous feeling bubbling up in her chest. She’s never felt so wanted. She’s never felt so safe.

“G’night,” she whispers.

“It’s already seven a.m.,” Ryujin whispers back.

“Oops,” Yeji says softly, closing her eyes, and Ryujin laughs. The sound washes her into sleep, Ryujin’s hand is still warm on Yeji’s back.

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fluffystudio · 1 year

Text

IT'S DECEMBER and it looks like Christmas!

I hope you all are well prepared for a wonderful Christmas this year!

Well, this Christmas is gonna be special for me! I'm getting married this December and we will have our honeymoon a week later.

That is why I mentioned that in December I will not be able to put in as much work. During the Honeymoon, there will be no chance for me to work on anything.

But that doesn't mean, I haven't worked on something already!

The Poll has been decided! The next Content shall be the Max Best friend Questline. We will see, how the story continues with Kevin, Max's best friend.

Max's Best Friend Quest:

- I have completed the next scene with both Clarissa and Kevin. This gonna be a direct continuity after their first Weekend event.

- My next plan is to create a couple more scenes and then add a new Weekend event, which will increase the intensity between Clarissa and Kevin

- Also Max will start to be suspicious of them. I'm thinking of adding the choice between, having Max be included, or if you gonna keep him away from it.

Secret Project:

I have been working also on my next Project. That currently includes more coding, than anything else. I have learned a lot of new things regarding Renpy and utilize those to the full extent! This is going to be an improvement in comparison to my previous games, including Mother's Devotion.

Once my secret project is out, I will improve the coding for Mother's Devotion.

So what is so special about my new Project?:

- The game will feature a Female Protagonist. (Shocker I know XD)

- Scenes will be created with the Honey Select 2 Studio. (Example: Image) I have improved Graphics for Characters and also improved locations. The Game will have a Japanese Animation (Anime) astatic, but with ""REAL"" looking Characters.

- Animations will be at the forefront of this game! The animations will be converted to Webm files to ensure, that the scenes will have small file sizes. The game will be large, that's a guarantee. How large I cannot tell for the time being.

- The game has animated maps. When you are in a Room, it is not a static image, but an animation playing.

- You can move through maps, by clicking on objects, for example, a Door.

- The Game features a Day and Night Cycle, which can be skipped by clicking on the Icon dedicated to telling the time of day.

- A Phone is included, which can be used, to find Tips in regards to ongoing Quest, see Images that the player has unlocked, call a Character for a Date, to text another Character to improve Relationship points.

- The Game will feature an improved story, with different stages the Character will go through. Those include changes in Outfit and behaviour.

- Those changes are not limited to the Player Character, but also the people around the player.

- The game will offer a Sandbox, but with a linear story! You will be free to enjoy the whole Game world and will be able to decide to continue the story at your pace so that you do not miss out on any content.

- The Game will include multiple different places to visit. These places will offer more options, depending on which stage you currently will be in.

These are not just things I will work on, but I have worked on and completed them. The game is in its very early development stage and I will not publish the Game until at least I have half of the content, I'm planning on adding.

The game will available to the Public once it has been fully finished. Supporters will benefit from testing the game and playing it, in different stages of the Development phase.

The game will not be free! I am intent on selling it for a price. Supporters should not worry, the game will be free for you guys, as promised by the Tier Rewards!

A Demo version will be provided, to those who will be undecided if they would like to purchase the game!

I believe a release for the game would be around Q3 to Q4 of 2023. Depending on how much work I can put in between Mother's Devotion and Life in General.

I will keep you all up to date of course.

Next year, I will start having two Development updates concerning the two games! Which will both either come together on Mondays in separate posts or on different days.

That was it for this Monday.

I wish you all a great week!

Stay Safe, and Stay Healthy!

with Love Fluffy!

#3dart #female protagonist #daz #art #development #games #renpy visual novel #honey select

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angelicyoongie · 4 years

Text

the crimson shell (llll)

— pairing: jungkook x f!reader — genre: mermaid au, yandere au — w.c: 4.6k — warnings: explicit sexual content! heavy dub-con touching/intercourse, forced breeding, oviposition, mentions of death/violence, general yandere themes — notes: ah, here we finally are, the last part/finale to the story! please keep the warnings in mind, and don’t read this chapter if you’re uncomfortable with anything stated above!

Part I / II / III / IIII

You’re not sure how long you’ve been here. After the second week of just blankly staring at the never changing cave walls surrounding you, you figured there was no point in keeping track of it. What good does it do you anyway? It’s not like counting the days will miraculously get you out of here. While you might not know the number, you do know that it’s been far too many. Your skin has grown pale and gaunt from the lack of sunshine and warmth you’re so used to, and the diet of raw fish hasn’t exactly been very kind to you. The cave is tall enough for you to stand up in comfortably, so at least your circulation isn’t completely shot, but you honestly lack the energy to stay on your feet for too long. Escaping, even just back up to the island, is your only chance at survival. You don’t think you’re going to last very long down here. It’s already gotten to the point where you’ve begun looking forward to Jungkook’s short daily visits, even just the sight of something almost human enough to keep you sane.

You let out a heavy sigh, the noise echoing around the cave as you lean back against the stone wall. Over the last couple of days, the creature has begun to bring you little treasures alongside with your food. You’re not exactly sure why, but it’s nice to have something to do – even if it’s just tracing the patterns on the lockets and pendants over and over. You run your fingers over the small pile of golden jewelry by your side, trying your best to keep your thoughts away from the people it must have belonged to. Jimin might have managed to get away, but you doubt the rest of them did. Two of the pendants in your pile belonged to the crew Jimin brought with him, and you suspect that if you give Jungkook a few more days, he’ll bring you the remaining three. As if you summoned him with your straying thoughts, a small splash in the water alerts you of the creature’s arrival. You turn your head just in time to see Jungkook hoisting himself up on the ledge, another fish and a new pendant dropped at your feet. You silently scoot closer to the edge, offering up your hand to the creature’s expectant red eyes. Jungkook nuzzles into your hand with a happy thrill, rubbing his cheek along your palm. You suppress a shudder at the sound, ignoring the soft skin underneath your fingertips as you stare at the headless fish at your feet. Sometimes you wish you could share the same fate as your food.

You let Jungkook cuddle your hand for as long as he wants, knowing that denying him will only make things worse for yourself. If you look past the sharp claws and teeth, Jungkook is hardly anything more than an oversized puppy. He seems to crave constant affection and confirmation that he’s done good when he brings you food or treasures. You think you might would have found it sweet if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s keeping you trapped here – and that he’s a monster. There’s nothing sweet or innocent about the creature in front of you. You let out a small breath of relief as Jungkook drops your hand, but he doesn’t immediately sink back down in the water as he normally does. You watch in confusion as he pushes the fish closer, the gold chain around it rattling as it drags against the stone. You hesitantly pick it up, praying that Jungkook isn’t going to stay here and watch you eat it. The raw fish already makes you nauseous, and there’s no way you’ll be able to stomach eating it with an audience. Especially one that likes to punish you when you do something he doesn’t like. Call you crazy, but you don’t think gagging at the food he brings you will make him very happy.

You slowly unwrap the chain, putting the fish back down to turn over the locket in your hands. You suck in a harsh breath at the familiar design at the front, the intricate carved flowers making bile rise in your throat. You had this made for Jimin years ago, back when you were still best friends. You two stayed friendly even after you started drifting apart, but you figured he would’ve gotten rid of the locket by now. You can’t believe he kept it all this time. That he still wore it. Your hands shake as you gently pull on the clasp on the side, a strained sound leaving your lips as you flip it open. A picture of you and Jimin smiles back at you, your faces bright and carefree. Jimin has an arm slung around your shoulders, his eyes closed into little crescent moons from how hard he’s grinning at the camera. The pure happiness in the photo makes your heart clench. Despite knowing Jimin was the one who lead you here, you find yourself desperately missing him for a split second before you can catch yourself. God, maybe if you accepted that marriage proposal from the baker’s sleazy son last year you would’ve at least been safe. Home.

You’re yanked out of your thoughts as Jungkook tugs you closer to the ledge, a clawed hand quickly snatching the locket out of your grasp. He lets out a series of chirping noises as his red eyes drag from the locket to you, and Jungkook taps your smiling face in the photo before he does the same to your leg. You stare in bewilderment as the creature drops the locket back in your hands, his lips stretched into a nightmarish version of a smile before he lowers himself down in the water. You swear your heart stops the moment you see the rows of teeth lining his mouth, and it refuses to work again until Jungkook is fully submerged and swimming away. You hastily scoot back from the edge, the locket clutched tightly in your hand. A bitter smile graces your lips as it dawns on you that you’ve figured out how Jimin traded your life for his. The picture. While you can’t be sure of exactly how he managed to communicate with Jungkook, you’re sure that being stranded here for six months must’ve been more than enough time to figure out a way to converse without using actual words. With Jimin as living proof in front of him, the creature must’ve understood that it meant that you were real too. And that if he had managed to get Jimin, then there would be a way to get to you. It was probably easier for Jimin to trade your life for his when he had something tangible to show Jungkook, when he had proof in his hands that you were out there too. A part of you hopes that maybe Jimin tried to convince Jungkook to change his mind, to take someone else instead, but you have a feeling that even if he did, the creature wouldn’t have budged. From the time you’ve spent on the island it has become very clear that Jungkook is stubborn and used to getting what he wants – but you suppose that’s only natural for a creature like him. How can something tell you no when it has already been eaten?

Of course, Jimin had no way to be sure that you would set sail for Jungkook’s island. But, while there was no guarantee you would risk travelling that far, your old friend knew how desperate you were for money, and the lengths you were willing to go to keep your family afloat. You suppose he knew how easy it would be to trick you as long as there was a bit of gold involved, and Jimin was dripping in it when he came back. You just hope he at least had the decency to spare your family a gold ring or two after you left, considering he sacrificed you to go free. You toss the locket aside, not really caring where it ends up as long as it’s far away from you. You force yourself to take a few deep breaths, trying your best to quell the anger burning through your veins. Being mad at Jimin won’t do you any good while you’re stuck down here, so you allow yourself to whisper out a string of curses at the man before you lock away the heavy feeling of betrayal deep into your chest. Seeing Jimin’s smiling face has reignited your dwindling spirit, and you decide that you will get out of here, even if it is just to hunt Jimin down.

The next time Jungkook comes back to visit you, there are no more treasures. Instead, your eyes widen in surprise as the creature gently places a familiar shell and pearl down by your feet, next to your twitching meal. You’re certain you left them near your bonfire higher up on the beach, but judging by the scratches and roughed up skin on Jungkook’s arms, it seems like the creature probably dragged himself all the way up there to get them. You feel your throat run dry at the thought, at the fact that you weren’t even as safe on land as you had first believed. If Jungkook was willing to bring himself up on land to get them, then you’re sure they must mean something important. It can’t be a coincidence that both the shell and the pearl have the same deep red colour as Jungkook’s tail and eyes, and come to think of it, didn’t your luck begin to turn after you picked up it that evening before you left?

Jungkook lets out a chirp as you pick up the shell, the creature leaning forward to rub his head against the back of your occupied hand. You eye him warily as your mind races through what has happened ever since you left home. You really, truly, hope that you’re wrong, but based on how everything started after you picked up the shell and how the creature acts – how he provides for you, how offended he acts when you push him away and how affectionate he is, you fear you might have accidentally accepted a courting offer. You’ve seen similar patterns in animals before, and while you’re not entirely sure what Jungkook really is, you think it’s safe to assume that the same thing might apply for him too. What you can’t really wrap your mind around is why he waited so long. It took weeks before you left after Jimin returned, and you were down by the beach every night. The unexplainable fear you felt was probably something deep inside of you that recognized that you were being watched by a predator – by him – but you didn’t know enough to connect the dots. Jungkook had many chances to grab you, but he didn’t. Not until you accepted his shell. Convenience maybe? That this whole trade was easier if he made you come to him? Or maybe some weird kind of custom his kind has? He is half human, after all. But you can’t be sure. If anything, Jimin could’ve at least had the decency to teach you how to converse with him if he was going to throw you to the sharks, or rather, Jungkook. Either way, you’re sure Jungkook would’ve eventually found a way to get to you even if you didn’t leave on that boat.

You’re shaken out of your thoughts when the feeling of soft skin leaves the back of your hand. The clicks falling from Jungkook’s lips are uncharacteristically soft as he pulls himself up on the ledge, those deep red eyes trained on yours as he tugs you closer. It only takes one hard yank before you find yourself caged in underneath Jungkook’s arms again, legs on either side of his waist. Your pulse quickens as you’re reminded of what happened the last time – you’re not exactly eager to pass out again from being smothered by his weight.

You feel like you shouldn’t be surprised that Jungkook manages to carry his entire weight on one arm, while the other begins to roam across your body. After all, he did drag himself up on land and back, and the part you had on top of you last time was hardly anything. The weight of his entire tail must be extremely heavy out of water. You know the creature doesn’t like it when you don’t pay him attention, so you let your eyes rest on his collarbones, watching as a few drops of water run down his skin. Keeping eye contact is too intimidating, those deep red irises makes it feel like you’re staring right into the depths of hell.

You dig your fingers into your thighs as Jungkook’s hand dips under the torn fabric of your shirt, the unusual texture of the web between his fingers making you squirm uncomfortably as it drags over your skin. You’re very aware of the sharp claws hovering above your delicate stomach as he explores, but at least the creature knows to not let them touch. Jungkook’s hand trails over your sides, your stomach, all the way up to the underside of your breasts. You swallow thickly as a knuckle brushes against the soft flesh, Jungkook’s motion suddenly stilling at the contact. You’ve always managed to push him off before he’s gone any further, but you can feel the shift in the creature’s mood today. You know he’s not going to take no for an answer. But, that still didn’t prepare you for the sudden gush of wind brushing across your exposed chest, your shirt split clean in two with the help of Jungkook’s claws. Before you can scramble to cover up, Jungkook lets out an excited chirp, his hand quickly moving back to your chest. Your mind goes blank as he places his palm over one of your breasts, experimentally squeezing and massaging it as he watches you curiously. You grit your teeth as Jungkook plays with it, ignoring the little tingle of heat in your stomach whenever he does something your traitorous body likes.

You try to convince yourself that Jungkook is probably just excited to see parts of a human body he hasn’t seen before, that he doesn’t really know what he’s doing. Your breath hitches as the webbed texture between Jungkook’s fingers glide over your nipples, a soft moan falling from your lips before you can stop yourself. The noise only seems to spur him on more, Jungkook repeating the motion to hear the sound again. A harsh squeeze on your breast forces out another moan, your hands flying to Jungkook’s chest. Your fingers twitch against his skin, your head telling you to push him away, while the building heat in your stomach and the growing wetness between your legs wants him close to finish what he’s started. You settle for digging your hands into his skin, grounding yourself in his body, knowing that pushing him away won’t do you any good. Jungkook lets out a happy thrill at your touch, lowering himself closer to your body as his hand moves from one breast to the other. You can feel his eyes burning into your skin, your body growing warmer and warmer under his intense gaze. There’s too many sensations at once – cold water dripping against your overheating skin, Jungkook’s long hair tickling your face, the soft and rough skin of his hand squeezing and moving across your flesh. Your eyes glide shut before you can stop yourself, forgetting your own rule of never letting Jungkook out of your sight. It’s just .. too much. Your body doesn’t know whether to hate the attention or love it, your chest tight with disgust while your stomach swirls with pleasure. At least with your eyes shut, and as long as your hands stay on his chest, he feels human. Human enough to make this whole thing a little less horrible.

Your legs tense as you feel more of Jungkook’s weight against your body, his hips pressing down more firmly against yours. You don’t pay it too much attention at first, too occupied by the hand on your chest. At least, that’s until you feel his hips begin to slowly move back and fourth, grinding against your clothed core. Your eyes fly open at the sudden friction, head spinning as your walls clench with need. You’re sure the flimsy material of your trousers must be soaked by now, and the realization that this creature is the reason behind it makes your cheeks flush red with mortification. You stifle a gasp as Jungkook pinches your sensitive nipple between two fingers, another happy thrill filling the cave as he rolls his hips harder against your mound. You can feel the heat in your lower stomach building rapidly, the coil almost ready to snap when Jungkook suddenly stills. You push down the needy whine in your throat as Jungkook removes his hand from your body, the creature pulling himself up further on the ledge.

Your confusion dies as your eyes travel down a little further past his hips, the arousal you felt quickly washed away by terror as you notice a slit in his tail, and something extending out of it. You nearly choke on your own spit as it finally clicks, trying your best to scramble out from beneath Jungkook’s hold as his cock becomes fully unsheathed. Jungkook lets out a series of low, warning clicks at your struggle, his clawed fingers digging into your shoulders as his arms keeps you caged you in. You look down in horror as you feel him resume his grinding against your clothed sex. It’s nothing like you’ve ever seen before. His cock is slightly tapered at the tip, growing thicker down against the base. What you thought was just some misplaced curiosity is obviously more than that, because now, there’s no doubt in your mind that Jungkook’s plan is to fuck you. You ignore the pain as sharp claws dig into your skin, trying your best to twist out of his hold. Logically you know there’s no place for you to run to down here, and that was probably what he wanted all along. Still, your heart hammers painfully against your chest, urging you to at least try.

You don’t succeed in doing much more than twisting yourself over on your stomach, fingers clawing at the stone in an attempt to pull yourself away. You barely have time to process the hiss leaving Jungkook’s throat before the remaining fabric of your trousers are sliced clean in two, leaving you completely bare. The next roll of his hips sends his cock rubbing over your ass, your body trembling at the wetness that seems to be coating it. The scales on his hips are rough and sharp as they drag over your soft skin, and you don’t doubt they'll feel like tiny little razors if you move against them wrong. You’re still trying to drag yourself away when Jungkook’s arms comes under your body, one wrapping underneath your arm to hold the opposite shoulder, and the other curling around your stomach. The creature lets out another hiss at your squirming, pulling your flush against his chest. You can feel his heartbeat against your back, the steady rhythm such a contrast to the wild beat of your own as he once again moves against your body. The new position sends his cock gliding between your legs, the shaft rubbing along your folds and coating it with the same slick fluid you felt on your skin. You dig your fingers into the stone floor, but your body is locked up tight against Jungkook. There’s nowhere for you to go.

Jungkook lets out another warning noise before he rolls his hips forward again, the tapered tip of his cock catching on your entrance. You let out a strangled moan as Jungkook’s cock sinks into your heat, your walls stretching around him as he pushes in deeper. Your arousal from earlier combined with the wetness around the creature’s cock makes the slide painless aside from the uncomfortable burn of being filled too much, too fast. Jungkook’s excited thrill at finally being buried inside your heat rings in your ear from the close proximity, his tongue dipping out to flick across the sheen of sweat at your nape. The creature begins pulling his hips back, not giving you any time to adjust before he snaps them forward. You let out a choked moan as he fills you up again, vision growing hazy as he sets a brutal pace from the get go. You can feel the harsh slap of his hips against your ass with every thrust, Jungkook letting out a pleased hiss as he continues to slam into you. You can feel the tapered length twitching and pulsing inside of you as he moves, more wetness seeping out of his cock to mix with your own. Every thrust leaves you gasping for breath, and the hold Jungkook has around your body feels like you’re wrapped up in steel. You have no choice but to lay there and take it, but as the creature’s cock nudges over your sweet spot repeatedly, you realize to your own horror that you like it.

Lost in a daze of arousal and fear, you don’t even realize the creature has been moving the both of you backwards until you’re suddenly plunged into the cold water. You let out a startled gasp as Jungkook’s length disappears from your heat, and you thread the water forcefully to keep your head above the ripples as you try to figure out where the creature went. You feel his hands before you see him, claws wrapping around your waist as Jungkook pushes you against the ledge. You let out a pained groan as your back collides with the stone, your hands scrambling up to grip the edge of it. You freeze as Jungkook’s head slowly emerges from the water, those deep red eyes looking hungrier and wilder than you’ve ever seen before. It only takes a moment before you feel the creature’s chest pressed against yours, his cock slipping in even easier with the new position. It doesn’t take many thrusts before you’re forced to wrap your legs around his waist to keep yourself afloat, your arms shaking with the effort of keeping your head over water. Your fingers slip a little against the wet stone, your eyes widening as you seem to sink even further down on Jungkook’s cock. You’ve never been so full before, almost delirious as he picks up his pace. Jungkook’s hands are relentless as they glide over your skin, pinching and rubbing every part of your body.

“F-fuck,” You moan as your clit rubs against his tail, the roughness of the scales making a bolt of arousal shoot through your body. You don’t even realize your hips are moving against his as the tightness in your gut grows, the pressure building more and more until it suddenly unravels, waves of pleasure ripping through your body and making you see stars as you come on Jungkook’s cock. The creature lets out something close to a growl as your walls clamp down around him, and he fucks you straight through your orgasm and into oversensitivity with an animalistic pace. You whine as Jungkook’s cock begin to swell, grow, his hands stilling on your hips to pull you flush against him as he comes. He lets out a pleased chirp as the burning hot come floods your insides, a broken moan escaping your lips as Jungkook slows down the harsh pace. It’s done, you think, relieved. He’ll probably leave you alone now. So it confuses you when Jungkook’s eyes slide shut, soft clicks leaving his lips as he pushes you even harder against the stone behind you. He’s still working his hips in and out of your heat, and you realize that even though he just came, his cock is still hard and growing, still stretching your walls.

Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head as you feel something moving up Jungkook’s cock, a firm but soft sphere spurting from the tip and into you. It takes a second for your hazy mind to connect the dots, and you realize a little too late that the creature is laying eggs. Inside of you. Jungkook is breeding you. You desperately try to push against his chest as you feel the second egg travel up his cock, but Jungkook only tugs you closer, tucking his face into the crook of your neck as his chest rumbles. You stifle back a moan as the second egg joins the first, the foreign texture brushing along your sensitive walls. The creature purrs as he released another spurt of eggs, slowly grinding his cock back and fourth as he breeds you. You cling on to the ledge behind you, disgust and pleasure wracking through your body as another egg joins the rest. A deeper click, something almost close to a groan, falls from Jungkook’s lips as he forces the last egg into your tight heat. Your eyes nearly roll back as you feel his cock nudge against your cervix; Jungkook’s slow pace fucking the eggs around inside of you. If you thought you felt full before, it’s nothing compared to being stuffed to the brim with Jungkook’s thick cock, eggs and come.

You can feel Jungkook’s breath ghost across your exposed wet skin, the harsh puffs of air sending chills down your back. Your hands finally slip from the ledge, too exhausted to keep you up anymore. Before you can wrap your shaking arms around Jungkook’s shoulders, the creature suddenly detangles you from his body, quickly hoisting you back up on the ledge. You let out shaky moan Jungkook’s cock once again slips from your heat, your body feeling surprisingly empty despite the eggs still resting inside of you.

“Shit,” You hiss as you strain to push yourself up on your elbows, gliding a hand down to your stomach. You can feel them inside of you when you press down, little bumps gliding around under your fingertips. Panic builds under your skin – you have to get them out. There has to be a reason you’ve never heard of creatures like Jungkook before. You doubt you're compatible to carry his eggs, and you don’t even know what will happen once they begin to grow. And even if you were, it’s not like you want them. Just as your hand is about to slip down to your slick folds, Jungkook hoists himself up from the water, once again covering your body. He snatches your hand away with a series of threatening clicks, barring his sharp teeth as he lies down on top of you. You twist your head with a fearful whimper as Jungkook pushes your hand into his hair instead, the weight of his body not totally crushing, but still enough to make you feel lightheaded.

You squeeze down around the eggs without meaning do, bile rising in your throat as they catch on your entrance, too big to push out without any help. Your eyes land on the crimson shell and pearl pushed over to the side of the cave. Your chest feels tight as it dawns on you that while the shell were likely a courting offer; the pearl must’ve been a mating offer. And you had accepted both. Your eyes begin to sting as you feel Jungkook’s chest rumble against yours, the pleased purrs making you feel sick. You hesitantly shift your gaze back to him, curling your fingers painfully tight into the wet locks underneath your palm as you find those deep red eyes already staring back at you. A twisted rendition of a smile blooms on his face, the rows of sharp teeth glistening as he looks down at you. The message in his gaze is clear – you’re keeping the eggs.

And there’s no way he’s letting you go.

a/n: oh boy. hopefully only those of you that were okay with the warnings made it this far. because i know i’ll get questions: jk fertilized his own eggs when he bred y/n, and y/n will basically serve as an incubator (poor girl lmao) for a while. she’ll push the eggs out eventually and then the eggs will hatch on their own. and no – i have no plans of doing jk’s pov any time soon, and it’s up to you to imagine y/n’s fate. anyway!! i hope you uhh, enjoyed this! and thank you for all the love and support for this mini series, it means a lot to me! as always, see you all soon and stay safe! and in case you enjoy my stories and want to buy me a coffee, you can do so here! 💖

#mermaid bts #mermaid au #yandere bts #yandere jungkook #mermaid jungkook #bts smut #jungkook x reader #yandere au #bts x reader #yandere mermaid #yandere x reader #bts au #bts fanfic

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tenthgrove · 3 years

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Sorry I've not been answering so many asks lately. Finding a place to live for uni is proving to be a very big stress, and I do not write well when anxious.

Rather than produce absolutely no headcanon content for the day I decided to come up with my own scenario that really spoke to me, so I hope you enjoy the following.

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Yandere La Squadra Reacting To You Having A Breakdown Post Abduction

La Squadra x Reader (GN), Yandere, SFW

Formaggio- He may be a clingy and needy guy, but he knows when to stop beating a dead horse. It's clear your total breakdown warrants a change of strategy, so it's time he backed off. His bedroom becomes entirely your space, Formaggio only entering to check on you every couple hours. He even sleeps on the couch, to let you rest easier at night. If you're really shutting down he decides to opt for the stray cat method to lure you out of your room for a change of scenery. He leaves a trail of snacks from your door.

Illuso- He anticipated a few of your possible reactions but this was not one of them. Now he doesn't know what to do. As you cry and hyperventilate, Illuso sets you in his lap, frantically uttering apologies and promises that he won't hurt you. Even still, he knows things have to change after this. He immediately gives you permission to roam the house as you please, promising not to put you in the mirror world again unless it's an emergency. He makes your time together more about you, pursuing your hobbies and social needs over his. Once you're well enough, he'd like to take you out as well.

Prosciutto- Given this is a man who kidnaps you due to concern you can't cope with gang life, it's no surprise that Prosciutto is fully prepared for such an extreme reaction after abducting you. To some extent, he continues on as he did before (his treatment of you was already very sensitive to your despair over the situation) but he does keep an extra eye out for early signs of above-normal distress so he can try and prevent another panic episode before it happens. He doesn't back away as he wants you to get used to his presence, but he tries to make that presence as likeable as possible.

Pesci- Your pain is his own, and seeing you so down is immensely upsetting to Pesci. He'll purchase anything he can think of that may remotely cheer you up, probably wasting most of his savings in the process. In his drastic attempts to stop your crying, he'll make some pretty out-there suggestions that weren't part of his original plan, like letting you talk to your family or move back into your old house (with him). He'll still hold onto you whatever the cost, but all in all you stand to benefit quite considerably from this.

Melone- He had planned to avoid this, providing a calm, homely environment to live in free from external stressors, and moulding his own behaviour around yours. Even still, Melone knows trauma is a highly individual matter and there's little he could do to guarantee you won't suffer its full force, even with his best efforts. Melone treats your breakdown with comfort for your immediate distress, and watchful waiting in the long term. He seizes on anything that seems to bring you relief, giving you more of it to try and elicit a change for the better. All your progress is met with praise.

Ghiaccio- Your the most precious thing in the world to Ghiaccio, and for you to suffer this badly at his hands crushes him. He wishes, wishes he could make it all go away but he genuinely believes letting you go will put you in mortal peril. His solution is rapid management. Ghiaccio arranges for the rest of the team to take all his hits for the next few weeks, and buys whatever he may need for the current period in advance. For the next few weeks, Ghiaccio will not leave the house so long as he can help it, staying by your side to help your recovery. He made you like this, so he's going to fix it.

Risotto- Knowing how to read a person like a book, Risotto sees your breakdown approaching from a mile off. He tries where he can to prevent it, with extra promises you're in good hands and everything will be okay in the end, but he knows this might not work and he has to prepare for the worst. Risotto lets you cry against his chest, wanting to respect your boundaries but also uneasy about leaving you alone in such a state. He encourages you to ask questions if it reassures you, or otherwise just yell at him how much you hate him if it makes you feel better. A better life is waiting for you, you just have to get through this together.

Sorbet and Gelato- Given the uneasy relationship between you and the couple early on, it's likely you won't tell the couple until your breakdown is in full swing, meaning it hits them like a ton of bricks. Well, hits Gelato, who was so caught up in the excitement of having you he forgot to actually be realistic about how you were going to feel about all this. They are both very sorry to see you in such a state, but agree to try and keep a happy face for your sake. They hope by showing you how well they can look after you when you're so low, you might be able to trust them once you come out of this on the other side. You must admit, lying in Gelato's arms while he soothes you, as Sorbet brushes your hair and adjusts your nightclothes ready for bed, is calming, very much so.

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phantomato · 2 years

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I read a tumblr post last night from a fic author talking about the ups and downs of feedback when posting work. The importance of building resilience, of turning to other hobbies and areas of life for soul-healing and fulfillment, of returning to fic when one is centered and balanced. And like, not to speak ill of the dead or anything, but it read like a patronizing load of shit, coming from an author whose works were near-universally successful (defined as 100 or more kudos, and frequently much more). I… don’t need advice about mindfulness from authors whose works reach that kind of audience. It’s not relevant.

Not that the advice was directed at me. But it wasn’t directed at anyone, right, other than an anonymous asker—and in a realm like this, that’s not a real person. Divorced from context, that’s not a reasonable target.

It got me thinking (and chatting with a friend!) about feedback, the nature of it and what it means to publish fic and to process one’s own emotions or satisfaction.

Resilience isn’t the first piece of advice I’d give to someone dissatisfied with their audience response. I’d say something more like: what do you want out of feedback? What’s the thing you’re looking for and not getting? There’s a bunch of possible answers to that. Maybe you want a higher kudos count, maybe you want a higher number of comments, maybe you want a few regular readers, maybe you want someone to chat with on another platform as you write. They’re all valid! They’re also pretty different in their methods of acquisition.

And I wouldn’t stop there. I��d next ask: what are you willing to try? Do you want to look up a bunch of writing advice articles and work on SPAG or prose or thematic content? Are you willing to write a different ship, or add romance where there wasn’t any? Are you willing to move fandoms? Are you willing to change up the length of your chapters or fics? Would you consider adding smut or action or some other element? Are you willing to drop something niche, like your pet rarepair or a crossover premise or a headcanon that doesn’t have a following?

What I’m trying to get at is that for a number of people, the best strategy probably won’t be throwing up your hands and learning to live with 6 kudos on your fics. Probably, there’s some bigger ship or bigger fandom you’d be open to trying. Probably, there’s some catchy trope you’d be willing to write and tag. Fuck, when I was feeling down about this in the spring, I said fuck it all, I’ll give in and write Tom Riddle raising Harry Potter because I know some people search for that platonic ship tag and trope. And, like, it worked. Clay got views and kudos and comments from readers who were not already following me because it had a larger native audience. I consider it a success.

Maybe someone goes through all of the available options and settles on the answer that no, really, they’ll only be motivated to write niche rare pairings or genfic without popular tropes. There are no tags to save them. (Not that that’s personally familiar.) Maybe they decide that what they want as feedback is something that can’t be guaranteed, like a best friend just as passionate about a niche character as they are. Yeah, at that point, building resilience and reminding the author to find emotional fulfillment and validation through other parts of life could be helpful. My knitting is fucking incredible, and way more validating than the 6 kudos on my newest longfic. I’ll pull through that nightmare of a fic experience with a lot of help from friends and spouse and other hobbies.

But like—it would be great if we, fandom, fic authors, stopped meeting our frustrated peers with calls to write for yourself and shrug off the lows. Those are useful pieces of advice, yes, but not the whole of it. Maybe someone would be much happier learning to enjoy a big ship or a big fandom. Maybe a set of starter questions and a couple of weeks of introspection could help someone pick a different path, one that will lead to less frustration about feedback. Maybe they’ll learn they actually want community and take the proactive measures necessary to reach that. Maybe they’ll decide they really do need to stay the course and learn resilience. All I know for sure is that it’s real fucking something to get the resilience advice from someone who tumbled ass over tits into big ship audiences.

#navel gazing #fandom meta

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mochamamii · 3 years

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yandere!taeyong: monster.

part two: Here

▹ a/n : I tried to write something a little outside my comfort zone. I've been enjoying writing Yandere stuff lately and I wanted to do a realistic take on the after effects of being kidnapped by a Yandere, and ultimately becoming pregnant. Like I always say, this is an example of a unhealthy relationship. In no way do I think Taeyong or any other member of NCT behaves this way.

▹ triggers : this gets kind of dark and It's very angsty. There's no smut but it gets a little suggestive at the end. Mentions of unwanted pregnancies, extreme weight loss, kidnapping, abusive relationships, etc. Please take all of this into consideration before you read.

▹ description : yandere!taeyong kidnapped you and has been holding you hostage for months. Unfortunately you wind up pregnant and Taeyong has pledged to build a life with you, and your baby as a family. When Taeyong presents you with a choice, you realize that you’ve become permanently trapped by Taeyong forever.

your perspective

I grimaced as I looked back at my reflection in the mirror. My skin was extremely dull and paler than usual due to the lack of sun I'd been getting.

I looked nothing like myself, I had dropped a significant amount of weight in just a couple months. It's been hard keeping food down lately, I don't have an appetite for anything, and whatever I do eat I immediately throw up.

My arms and legs looked more like sticks than actual limbs, and places where I used to have feminine curves were replaced by hard angles.

I had even suffered some hair loss due to losing a drastic amount of weight in such a short period of time.

My grimace turned into a scowl as my eyes traveled down to my swollen belly.

I was reaching seven months pregnant, close to entering my third trimester. My body had become so thin and frail that it looked like I'd topple over due to my large belly.

My fists clenched tightly as I stared down at my stomach, as if the thing growing inside me could see me glaring down at them.

'I want you gone.' I thought to myself.

If I'm lucky, maybe this monster inside me will die of malnutrition.

I pinched my arm to shake the dangerous thoughts from my head.

I cut the bathroom light off and exited the bathroom, forgetting what I had originally went in there for before getting distracted by my own reflection.

The clock's hand on the wall just outside the bathroom moved towards the six, and everyday just like clockwork, the keypad to the front door beeped and swung open, revealing him.

The reason my belly is so big.

The reason there's a monster growing inside me.

Lee Taeyong.

"Honey! I'm home-

Taeyong paused as his eyes fell on me, "Ah, there you are. Were you waiting on me?" He questioned with a wide smile as he kicked his shoes off.

My eyes drifted down to the black plastic bag in his hand, I ignored his greeting and silently pointed to the bag.

Taeyong chuckled as he approached me, placing a kiss on my cheek, "You're impatient today aren't you?"

Taeyong leaned down to my stomach and placed a tender kiss on my belly, "Hi baby." He whispered.

I felt like vomiting.

"Appa's home now." He said with a smile before standing.

He headed over to the table in the middle of the living room, placing the bag down. I followed behind him closely, my curiosity getting the best of me. He kneeled next to the table as he fished out the contents of the bag.

"Don't you want to see?" He questioned as he paused to look up at me.

I blinked at him blankly, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of an answer.

Taeyong smirked knowingly at me before patting the spot on the couch before him. His eyes followed me as he watched me enter the living room and take a seat in front of him on the couch. He never moved from his original spot on the floor as he continued rifling through the black bag in search of something.

"It's been a while since you've painted your toenails right?" He asked as he pulled the contents from the bag to show me an assortment of brightly colored nail polishes.

I sighed as I peered down at my toenails, the paint on them was still there from when I did them a few weeks ago, although now the paint had started to chip and peel in different places. I couldn’t stand the sight of my toenails when they got like that, I was actually thankful when my belly had gotten so big I could no longer see my own feet.

I couldn't do anything about fixing my toenails anyways seeing as I stopped being able to reach my toes a while ago.

"Don't you want me to paint your nails for you? Won't that make you happy?" Taeyong smiled as he looked up at me excitedly,

I had to fight the urge to smack him.

I don't remember the last time I felt genuine happiness. And he's the reason.

Him and this fucking fetus inside me.

He searched my eyes for something before settling with a sigh, "Y/N...I'm trying..."

Try harder.

That's what I wanted to say to him.

His hands moved to clutch mine, lovingly interlacing our fingers together.

"I'm trying really hard to make up for what I've done in the past...But I can't if you won't even speak to me." He trailed, his thumb brushing over my skinny knuckles.

What did he want me to say?

It's okay Taeyong...I forgive you Taeyong for ruining my life.

If that's what he was waiting on me to say he'd die waiting to hear those words from me.

"I'll pick a color for you okay?" He said with a smile.

He squeezed my hand before pulling away to look back at the different colored polishes.

"Hmmm...blue?" He pondered, he turned to wave the sparkly blue polish at me in hopes of a response.

"It's okay if you still don't feel like saying anything. I'll keep trying until you forgive me." He smiled.

Don't bother.

He crossed his legs in front of me, placing my feet in his lap.

He carefully used a cotton ball and nail polish remover to take the paint already there off.

Taeyong continued to make mindless chatter and simple conversation as he removed the paint from my nails, none of which I responded to.

I had gotten so good at training my ears to drown his voice out that it was easy for me to forget that he was even there at times.

That was until my ears caught on to one thing he said.

"What?" I questioned, my voice came out weak and raspy from not being used in a while.

He looked up from my toes to meet my gaze. His eyes doubled in size in shock of hearing my voice for the first time in a while.

"Hm?" He questioned,

"What did you say? Just now?" I questioned, my fists clenching.

He paused momentarily as if trying to remember what he'd just said, "I said..."

"Our family will be so happy, you'll forget about your old one." He said it in such a matter of fact tone, as if it was just a guarantee.

It was so simple and he probably didn’t even mean it in the way that I took it, but I couldn’t fight the anger that started to brew in me.

"Are you crazy?" I spat out, yanking my feet away from him.

"Baby...don't be like that..." Taeyong said trying to reach out for me.

"Stop calling me that! I am not your baby, and we are not a family!" I screamed.

I couldn't stop myself as my fists raised up and I began pummeling them at him in a fit of rage. Taeyong fell back a little, surprised by my sudden attack.

He acted quickly on his feet and grabbed my wrists in his hands and yanked me up from the couch, "Y/N, stop. You're going to hurt the baby if you don't calm down."

"It's not a baby. It's a fucking monster." I hissed.

His face fell into a look of sadness, "Don't say that. That's our baby you're talking about."

I pulled my wrist back out of his grasp and landed a harsh slap to his cheek.

"I hate you. And I hate this baby because of you. It's going to turn out to be a disgusting monster just like you are." I seethed.

"Y/N....please." Taeyong said gently, trying to get me to calm down.

But I had only just started, and I was ready to let my anger take over.

"How dare you say I'll forget about my family? Are you sick in the head? You must be." I spat.

At this point tears started streaming down Taeyong’s cheeks as he soaked in my words.

"Y/N, It's okay... I'll fix this, I'll fix everything so that we can be happy, okay? So that you can forgive me." Taeyong said between pathetic sniffles.

It only made me angrier to see him cry, I should be the one crying. He did this, this is his fault.

"No. Nothing is okay here. I could never be happy with someone like you. I could never love someone like you." I stated firmly.

I watched as Taeyong clenched his jaw, the grip he had on my other wrist tightened.The look on his face slowly morphed from sadness to anger.

"So what now, huh? You want to leave me? You want to leave so you can go back to your family, and your fiance? Is that it?" Taeyong asked with a dry chuckle.

I tensed up at the mention of my fiance.

His words were sharp and dripping with venom as they spilled out past his lips.

"Taeyong-

Before letting me finish Taeyong pulled me over to the door, punching in the code on the keypad before swinging it open.

I was hit by a cold gust of wind as the December air touched my skin.

The thin pajama set I had on did nothing to shield me from the cold weather.

"If you want to leave so bad. Go. See how much your family misses you when they see you're pregnant with my kid." Taeyong said with a twisted smirk.

I looked between him and the door. For the first time in a while I could see directly outside, I could see something other than the four walls I'd grown so used to seeing everyday.

Cars zipped past along the street, people walking along the sidewalk completely oblivious to the horrors taking place inside this house.

This is what I'd been wanting so desperately for months now.

The opportunity was being laid out right in front of me, ready for me to reach out and take it.

My heart was begging for me to run. Begging me to run far away from this wretched place and never look back.

I started to take a step past the threshold of the door before I was stopped by an abrupt kick in my stomach. A painful cramp shot up my spine as the monster inside me kicked a second time.

I couldn't go back home.

Not like this.

I couldn't go back to my family, my fiance, pregnant with my kidnappers child.

I couldn't do this to them.

I won't.

I’d already put them through the pain of losing their daughter, I couldn’t be the reason for my family’s embarassment by coming back pregnant. I had nowhere to go, and I knew I was defeated.

"It's all your fault." I said just above a whisper as I fell to the floor, my knees buckling under my weight.

I couldn't fight the ugly sobs that racked through my body as I thought about how horrible of a situation I was in.

Taeyong looked down at me with what I assumed to be pity before closing the front door.

He turned and squatted down to my level.

"I'm all you've got now, your family won't want you in their lives once they know you're pregnant. So be a smart girl and accept that this is your life now. Me and this baby are your only family now. Understand?" Taeyong questioned as he used his hand to wipe away my tears.

"Fuck you." I hissed in response.

Taeyong snickered, his lips curving up into a devilish grin.

"Soon. I don't want to risk hurting the baby."

#lee taeyong #nct taeyong #nct angst #yandere kpop #yandere nct #nct yandere #nct smut #taeyong smut

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mithrilwren · 3 years

Text

I really, really wanted to contribute something to Essek Week, but unfortunately with two essays and a novel chapter due by Monday, I didn’t have the time or mental energy to write anything new. Cue me remembering that I’d actually started working on an Essek-centric shadowgast Pirate!AU last summer, that never saw the light of day! Though I did a whole bunch of research for it, summer ended before I could get farther than the first couple chapters. Still, I’m very fond of the premise, and I’d like to finish it one day. I can’t guarantee I will (life’s too busy to commit myself to another Big Fic Project atm) but in the meantime, here’s a little taste in the form of the first chapter.

-------------------

For @essek-week Day 7: AU

Courts of Silk (Chapter 1)

Essek startled from his trance to the crackle of blistering thunder overhead.

Mind bled of all drowsiness in an instant, he unfolded his legs and slid off the berth, drifting to the center of the room and tilting his ear towards the boards above.

A storm… but the skies were meant to be clear for days, and he trusted Avus to know it. Could the weather have turned so–

Boom.

Essek’s eyebrows flew up as the deck visibly lurched below his feet.

Not thunder.

Cannon fire.

More sounds now, hurried ones – an erratic tempo of feet pounding through the corridor outside his little room, the floorboards creaking dully under the weight of the crew scrambling over the deck above. He flinched as a louder noise pierced through the commotion: the rattling of a heavy fist falling against the door of his cabin, hard enough to shake the wooden frame.

“We’ve been boarded!” Zel’ra’s guttural shout startled him out of his confused stupor, and he flew to the door and flung it open. The quartermaster stood outside, her snarling jaw dripping with whitish battle foam, the kind that bugbears of Rosohna so seldom have occasion to sport within city walls. “Come on, magic boy, time for you to earn your– Shit!”

Then she was gone, and Essek was left staring dumbly at the empty corridor, as Zel’ra raced back the way she came. A moment later, there was a yelp, and the grisly crack of metal hitting bone. Then there was no sound at all, save the rocking of the ocean’s pulse against the hull, and the thump of confident, unfamiliar footsteps, coming closer and closer to his open door.

He had only a few moments to make his decision. The fight might still be going on above deck, but if intruders had already made it below, there was little hope of a favorable outcome for the crew of the Barren Bow. He hadn’t thought the Empire would be brazen enough to attack a diplomatic ship in open waters, but there were soldiers of all ilks on the open sea, and no government to hold them to account so far from land. He would not put it past a Dwendalian crew to sight a Dynasty flag on the horizon and decide to take the matter of revenge in their own hands. If so, there was no telling what treatment they might expect at the hands of their attackers. Rage was rarely tamed by abstract rules of engagement, and he doubted anyone would care to ask what the nature of their mission was, once the killing began.

But perhaps…

Quickly, Essek drew aside his sleeve and materialized the leather–bound contents of his wristpocket into his hands. His spellbook lay beside precious components in their embroidered fold, and there, at the bottom of the pile: the folio. He whispered a quiet word and the paper folded apart, revealing its damning – and perhaps, in the right hands, lifesaving – contents.

The letters.

If the tides were so unfavorable that he could not fight, perhaps that might be enough to–

He vanished the whole affair back into the ether as two shadows fell across the door.

From the darkness of the hallway, two figures stepped over the threshold. In front was a young woman: human, with swarthy skin made darker still by the weathering burn of long days at sea. Her hands were tucked beneath bare arms and her hip turned out to an unconcerned jaunt, adorned by a sash of deep blue. Behind her, and looming so tall that she had to hunch to fit through the frame of the door, was a giant of a woman. Taller even than Zel’ra, her bare shoulders glistening with rippling muscles and sweat, pale as moonlight – or as the steely glint of the broadsword at her back. The younger woman swept him over with piercing eyes, her confident grin not quite masking the focused gaze beneath. Though she bore no weapons, Essek could feel the stain of threat in every taut sinew of her body. He held still, waiting to see who would make the first move.

Her eyes finally paused, centered on the floor beneath his feet, and her grin dropped into something more like a startled ‘oh’. Too late, he realized his mistake – that his levitation, as natural and instinctive as standing on his own two feet, had just given him away.

“Mage!” she sputtered, and her hand was gripping his arm and twisting it behind his back before he even realized she’d moved. Essek dropped the levitation spell, hoping to get enough leverage from the sudden height difference to slip out of her grasp, but before he could so much as shuffle to the left, the taller woman was at his right, clutching his other arm with a grip strong enough to break bone.

“Shit,” the first woman spat as she stepped back, allowing the second to take both of his arms into custody. “Who the fuck did we just board?”

Essek kept silent, staring at her, searching for any sign of weakness and finding less than nothing. If he had just had his hands free for a moment longer… but that didn’t matter now. There weren’t many spells without a somatic component at his disposal, and cantrips wouldn’t save his neck, should the giantess move quicker to snap it than he could speak.

Without a means of immediate escape, he looked next for any way to identify his captors. They were human, but their loose, subdued dress – for the younger woman, a vest of blue cotton, the other, a braided grey tunic, and frayed ribbons in both their hair – was nothing like the silver and crimson finery of the Righteous Brand.

If not from the Empire, who were these people? Hired thugs? Mercenaries?

“Are there more of you skulking down here?”

He didn’t ask the woman to clarify, though he wasn’t sure exactly what she was asking. More drow? Yes, but he was not about to reveal the nature of the delegation travelling under his protection to her. More mages? No. As always, he had convinced the Bright Queen that his effort alone would be sufficient. For the first time in a very long time, he wished he’d been a little more conservative in estimating his own skills. Given the current situation, someone else’s power at his back might actually be welcome, rather than distracting.

Her burning gaze made it clear that he had to say something, and soon, but for once, the right words did not come. The truth did not matter: he knew that any unfavorable answer would be taken as a lie.

Still, Essek would not panic. The only way to regain control of the situation was by carefully gathering information, finding something that he could use to shift the balance of power at a more advantageous moment. That was his particular specialty.

“I do not know,” he answered coolly. “For I do not know who is above and below deck at all hours of the day. I can only speak for myself.”

“Beau! Fjor– fuck– Captain Tusktooth wants you on deck!” A new voice, its timbre high and grating, like glass against cold iron, echoed from around the corner. The woman – Beau, he filed away – turned her head and shouted back out the door.

“Just a second, we’ve got one more!” Then, “Tell him to get Caleb over here, we’ve got a goddamn mage to deal with!”

The giantess at his back leaned down, so close that her dreaded locks nestled amidst the silver chains that hung from tip to base of his pointed ear. “You aren’t going to give us any trouble, are you?” she murmured, and despite every ounce of training he’d undergone for exactly this sort of intimidation, he still couldn’t help the way he shivered at her dark tone. There was a deep quality to her voice that sung of violence, for violence’s sake, and though he wasn’t yet truly afraid, he had no wish to provoke her.

“How could I?” Essek gently flexed his arms in her grasp: not enough to challenge, but enough to reassure her of his helplessness.

Her lips curled back, and… yes. There was a little fear gathering there, in the back of his throat. A good kind of fear – the prudent kind. It would keep him alert, and focused, and ready to strike back when the moment was right.

When she started pushing him forward, he followed her lead willingly, and the two of them shadowed Beau into the corridor and up the steps that led back above deck. Essek winced as the bright noonday sun slipped into view, already anticipating the stinging burn that was sure to follow. He’d managed to avoid the deck for most of the voyage, much to the chagrin of the Assarian crew. He was not born into a body made for manning rigging, and certainly not under an unrepentant sky determined to scorch his face and hands and neck and leave him itching and miserable for days without relief. His better use was below deck, planning for the engagement ahead, and his hours of fresh air better taken in the evening, when the gentler light of the moons was merely a prickle beneath his skin, rather than a flame.

Everywhere he looked, he saw mismatched bodies. Though Essek hadn’t met the entire complement of the Barren Bow’s crew, he had to assume most of the scattered orcs, goblins, and bugbears belonged to their side. Most of the ones on their feet were being held in the shallow recess at the centre of the deck, where great cannons might have been lodged on a more modern ship. A handful of unremarkable humans, each equipped with a rapier – or, in one man’s case, a salt-encrusted retort – stood above them, keeping watch. Amidst all that humanity stood a wild–eyed goblin in a blaring yellow dress, hefting a crossbow composed of whirring gears and levers of an intricate make that rivaled Waccoh’s own craftsmanship. She was currently in the process of shouting threats down across the heads of his cowed compatriots. Some were clutching broken arms or wiping blood from contusions and burnt welts. Lying at the center of the group was an unconscious Zel’ra, the goose egg at the back of her skull already angry and red.

Finally, he spied the remainder of the drow contingent clustered by the ship’s rail. Diplomats, all of them, bound for a parley at sea and not trained for conflict beyond what it took to hold a dagger right-way up. He was the only one among them battle-tested, and even then, his means leaned more towards subterfuge than outright combat. Theoretically, the Assarian crew was meant to be their main line of defence in case of attack. Clearly they had not proven up to the task.

Essek would be filing a very unfavorable report with their commanders upon his return, if any of them survived the day.

“Captain!” Beau shouted, and a tall half-orc stepped away from the railing, his wide-brimmed hat only partially disguising the many scars that littered his face.

“Weather’s turning,” he said, casting his eyes towards the – as far as Essek could tell – clear horizon. Those same yellow eyes flickered up, above Essek’s head, and for a moment seemed to narrow before turning back to Beau. “You finished clearing the hold yet?”

“Didn’t make it that far.” Beau jerked her head, and Essek was thrust into the sunlight all at once. The glare was blinding, and apparently not just to him. The giantess’s hands jerked around his arms, like they wanted to fly up and shield her eyes as well. That was all the opportunity he needed.

With one quick motion, he jerked his arms from her grasp and drew his hands together, tracing familiar glyphs out of nothing but muscle memory as his mouth uttered an incantation, and the world exploded around him. The giantess was flung back against the doorframe, wood splintering beneath her weight, and both Beau and the half-orc slammed into the deck and began to hurtle towards the side of the boat. Forcing his eyes to stay focused amidst the chaos and the harsh light, Essek caught the glitter of a cutlass skittering along the boards as he took stock of his position on the newly reborn battlefield.

Nearly all of the boarders were in a concentrated area in front of him, and the rest of the Assarian crew were protected by the lip of the recess in the deck. The terrain could not be more advantageous. Essek allowed himself a small smirk as he raised his hand and prepared a vacuum blast that would level the whole of the upper deck, and deliver them all to safety in one swift stroke.

How arrogant, that this petty group of mercenaries thought they could capture–

“Counterspell.”

The magic sizzled and died in his hand, and Essek whirled, searching for whoever had spoken behind him. Thugs he could handle, but it was always best to deal with a mage first, when they could do such infuriating things as what had just occurred. But once he turned, he found himself facing an empty doorway, and an empty deck above that. No trace of whoever had cast the counterspell.

The giantess was gone as well.

He heard the click before he could parse what cold and heavy thing was tugging on his wrist, but he was horribly aware of what was happening by the time his other wrist was wrenched behind his back and small hands clasped the second iron band shut. A stomach-churning wave of exhaustion passed through him from scalp to toe, and he staggered, only barely holding on to consciousness. Head lolling towards the floor, he saw two soft-soled boots landing lightly on the deck in front of him.

With great effort, he managed to drag his head up from his chest, and found himself staring into blue eyes and dusty freckles, lips pressed into a thin line, all framed by tangles of copper-red hair.

“Good work, Nott,” the man said. His accent was one Essek had only heard once before, though through the mire of exhaustion he could not remember where.

Behind Essek, the half-orc groaned and pushed himself up off the deck. “Next time you have a brilliant plan for subduing the prisoner, maybe let’s try not putting us all in the line of fire, hm?”

The man ignored the sarcasm, still looking all too carefully at Essek.

“Are you finished?” he murmured, and though his body was lithe, his soft voice sung of as much violence as the giantess’s darker growl.

With a sigh, Essek let his shoulders drop. He could still feel the pulses of magic coursing through the iron bands around his wrists. Even if he got his arms free again, the cuffs would not be easily slipped, or broken. These people, whoever they were, came equipped to handle wizards like himself. Was that what they were, then? Assassins in disguise? Privateers? The blunt instrument of some government or another?

Not that it made much difference now. Whoever they were, he was at their mercy.

“Spin him around.”

Essek felt himself being maneuvered away from the man’s incisive gaze. Through bleary eyes he caught the looks of frustrated disbelief from the four drow delegates, lamenting their crushed hope in silent, huddled unity. He was meant to be their protection. Now that Essek was taken, what else could save them? Not one of them was brave enough to attempt it themselves. A shiver of disgust ran through Essek, as heady as the self-recrimination it concealed at having allowed himself to be captured so easily.

The half-orc strode up to Essek, the sword in his hand now replaced, though Essek hadn’t seen the man move to retrieve it. It was a silver cutlass, fine enough to cleave a person clean through and leave one half still propped up on the other. Too rich a prize by far for a simple mercenary – he must have come by it dishonestly, or been given it as boon or bribe. Neither prospect boded well.

The hand that gripped the sword told an equally foreboding story, for only the thumb was composed of green flesh. The rest of the fingers were severed at the third knuckle, and replaced by metal imitations fixed to the wrist by a harness of leather cords. Still, he held the hilt with all the confidence of a trained fighter, and the surety of his grasp left Essek little doubt as to its effectiveness, mechanical augmentation or no.

“My name,” said the half-orc, “is Captain Tusktooth.” A hint of bright teeth flashed from below the wide brim of the hat. “And this ship is mine now. Its cargo, mine too.”

The answer about the identity of his captors, at last, became clear, for what little good it did him.

Pirates.

“By whose authority?” Essek shot a harsh look at the foolish dignitary who had chosen this moment to find their courage, but Tusktooth only grinned harder.

“By my own.” Behind Essek’s back, Nott and Beau slipped back through the splintered doorframe and down into the depths of the ship once more. “Now, my crew is going to finish taking a look through your cargo. I trust that your captain has been honest about the contents of your hold. Are there any other surprises I should be warning my people of? Anybody else looking to make trouble?”

Would that there were. “You will find little of value to take. We travelled light.” He spoke the truth, having no more useful lie at his disposal. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, and another wave of exhaustion teased at the edges of his mind. He fought it with all the strength he had – which was growing less and less by the minute.

“So your captain told me. But that wasn’t my question.” Tusktooth’s voice grew as keen as the blade in his hand as he lifted it and placed the edge to the shallow of Essek’s throat. “Are there others like you aboard?”

He did not flinch. Torment and torture were old friends: his own cherished instruments. He did not fear what this man would do to him, any more than he feared death itself. At least, that is what he told his errant heart, as sweat began to bead at the nape of his neck.

“No.”

Tusktooth stared him down for a minute longer, and Essek held his gaze as best he could with the sun still searing his eyes. But at last, the sword withdrew, and Essek’s breath came a little easier. “Then let’s call this an exercise in… mutual trust.” He smiled once more, and Essek returned the expression with a vague twitch of lips.

The tense exchange was followed by ten excruciating minutes of silence, during which Essek did his best not to fidget in his heavy robes, even when his exposed skin grew so heated he felt liable to burst into flames. As they waited, the redheaded man pulled Tusktooth aside for a private conversation, and Essek sweated, and watched, and tried to formulate a plan.

The pirates would find nothing of value to steal. The Barren Bow had provisions for the voyage, but anything else aboard was the purview of the Assarian crew, who had planned to head back towards the shores of Igrathad as soon as the parley concluded. There were no scheduled stops for trade, and thus, no trade goods in their hold. There weren’t even guns to offer. Essek would never dare to admit it aloud, but the Dynasty lagged sorely behind the rest of Wildemount in outfitting its fleet with the relatively new technology of cannonry, at least of the type that lacked a magical component. Firearms had only entered the sphere of weaponmaking some thirty years prior, and with Xhorhas primarily landlocked, the navy hadn’t been high on the priority list for refurbishment.

His best hope was that some of the crew had hidden stashes of coin in their quarters. Otherwise, there would be nothing for the pirates to take, and without anything to satisfy them, well… he did not want to be in manacles when that news was delivered to a man who’d already put a sword to his throat.

If only to convince himself he was not totally beaten yet, Essek watched Tusktooth and the redhead carefully, seeing what he could glean from body language alone. Their conversation was hushed but tense, and every few moments the redhead would turn his eyes towards the drow delegation, and then to Essek himself. He made sure to drop his own eyes before they could meet again, not wanting to spark another confrontation by appearing insolent. As for the pirate captain… there was confidence, yes, but the unwavering edge of confidence seemed to drop away from his shoulders as he spoke to the other man. His arms moved more wildly; his words were more rapid, and at a higher pitch. Perhaps his earlier confidence was not so unshakeable as it at first appeared.

At last, Beau and the goblin re-emerged from the staircase. “We got shit all,” Beau said, tossing down a half-empty sack by Essek’s feet. He winced as a few bruised tubers rolled out across the warped deck.

“...Shit.” Tusktooth ran a hand over his mouth. “Shit. Nothing?”

“Nott and I checked every inch of that hold, the crew quarters, everything. No money, no timber, no – fuck, I don’t know – fine silks or–”

“No cannons,” Nott added mournfully. “No black powder.”

“We went through all this for nothing?”

“Maybe someone’s holding out on us,” Nott said, brandishing her crossbow. “I could make ‘em talk for you, Captain. Make them squeal–”

“Oh–kay, Nott,” Tusktooth said, “let’s take it down a notch.” But despite his placating tone, his look was thoughtful. Again, he turned to Essek. “You never never did say what you all were doing out here, so far from home. You don’t look like a sailor to me.”

“Yes, friend,” said the redhead, stepping up to Essek from Tusktooth’s other side, alarmingly calm, and placing altogether too much emphasis on the second word to be trusted, “what is it you do here?” Essek took a half-step back, not liking the feeling of being pressed in from all angles, and walked himself straight into the chest of the giantess.

Nowhere to hide. And with his hands bound behind his back, no way to levitate up to a level where he didn’t feel every inch of height his captors had over him. Which, at his firmly average height for a drow, was many.

Focus, Thelyss. Focus.

“Why should I answer your questions,” he sneered, “when you have not done me the same courtesy? Who are you, to board a vessel commissioned lawfully by the Bright Queen herself?” It was a dangerous ploy, but a considered one – a hastily calculated risk. If the pirates could not be convinced there was nothing of value to be found, they might decide to punish the crew for concealing their rightful prize, and when even a beating couldn’t drive his compatriots to forfeit non-existent gold, the pirates might well scuttle the ship and leave them all to drown at sea. He doubted simple brigands would care much for the particulars of a diplomatic mission if there was no treasure involved, so there was little harm in broaching a subject that might be far more dangerous to discuss with more educated captors.

But apparently, some aspect of Essek’s logic had failed him again, because the redhead immediately shot a wide-eyed look at Tusktooth, before looking back to Essek. “The Bright Queen?”

Essek gave a little bow. His head swam as he dipped back up – the handcuffs, no doubt, though it could just as easily be the beginnings of heatstroke – and he had to swallow twice to find the fortitude to speak without slurring. “Essek Thelyss, Shadowhand of the Kryn Dynasty and ambassador of the realm.” The last part was an… embellishment, and if he chanced a glance over at the true ambassadors, he imagined there would be many offended looks. But thankfully, all attention was solely focused on him. “I assure you, you won’t find the prize you’re looking for on a diplomatic vessel, gentleman. Your friends have already given you proof – we carry nothing beyond our own provision. Unless you have a particular taste for the delicacies of Xhorhasian fashion, I’m afraid we have little to offer you.”

Nott snarled, but the redhead put up a hand. “Captain,” he said slowly, looking at Tusktooth. “Might I… make a suggestion?”

“You may.”

“It’s not something I’d usually propose, but times being what they are…” Tusktooth nodded grimly.

“We haven’t got many options left.”

“Precisely. I believe that our friend Mr. Thelyss here has lied to us.” He could laugh for the irony of it all; this was the most truthful Essek had been in years. “There is indeed something very valuable aboard this ship.” His blue eyes pierced through Essek, and it was only his determination to keep the – now violently pitching – contents of his stomach where they belonged, that stopped him from speaking up in his own defense.

“And that is...?”

“Himself.”

#critical role #essek thelyss #shadowgast #essek week #my writing #also since plank king essek is a... thing??? now #the timing seems appropriate lol #this fic is not that but it is still (eventual) pirate!Essek #and who doesn't love that

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quietmyfearswith · 3 years

Text

their love language ; preferences

warnings — fluff (?) couple of swear words

characters — andy barber, steve rogers, jake jensen, bucky barnes, carter baizen, lance tucker, syverson, will shaw (cold light of day), august walker

a/n — just something i put together lmao asks are open for anything

with their little

masterlist

andy barber — physical touch and words of affirmation

It wasn’t unusual that Andy brought home work; but more often than not concerning. Not only was he overworking himself, but it also led him to doubt and question his own capabilities. And Y/N knew when these unwanted thoughts would start to plague Andy’s mind and she knew just how to prevent them from affecting him severely. Creeping up behind him, she placed her hands on his shoulders giving him a massage he didn’t know his body was begging for. “How you doing, handsome?” she asked sweetly as she placed a small kiss on the back of his ear. Turning his head slightly so he could reciprocate the kiss but on her hand, “Making slow but significant progress.” She hummed, moving her fingers from his shoulders and to his temples she tried to rub off the stress that seemed to have its epicenter at his forehead. “Well all that was possible because of you, angel, you and that big brain of yours.” Andy grabbed both her hands and turned to her; she knew what was gonna happen next — he was gonna argue with what she said and instead claim that he wasn’t that good and he could have done it quicker or done more. But before he even had a chance to do so, she slanted her lips on his to shut him up. “I’m gonna shut you up with a kiss every time you talk shit about yourself,” the man’s entire body vibrated with laughter as turned his chair around to face Y/N and grabbed her so she sat down on his lap, “In that case we might be kissing for a long time, love.”

august walker — acts of service

August’s dedication wasn’t only limited to his work; but also to his beloved Y/N. He’d like to think that the reason that he exposed himself to the dangers of the world is so that he could guarantee her safety. But on the instances wherein he wasn’t on a mission and instead was back home with her, he never missed out on an opportunity to make her feel safe and loved. Since he was having downtime from a mission, he took it upon himself to bring you to work and pick you up. It didn’t matter if it was out of his way or he had a busy day, it was something he loved to do. He loved having one hand on the steering wheel and the other on her warm thigh; just like how they were right now following her departure from her work. “I noticed how your laundry was piling up, so I washed it already. Also found the missing sock you were whining about last week,” Y/N looked at August and decided to tease him as she jokingly accused him, “I knew it! You hid it somewhere in our home.” His hand that was comfortably resting on her thigh left its place and went for her sides, tickling her. Hearing her giggles, made him boyishly smile, “That’s not what happened, missy. I was cleaning the house — because you were whining about how cluttered and messy it was getting and you didn’t have the time to clean it up — and somehow found that fuzzy sock of yours in the kitchen.” Upon learning what her man was up to, she was shocked and teased him more by saying, “Are you sure you should be a CIA agent and not a house cleaner? Seems like it’s one thing you absolutely love to do.” placing his hand back on her thigh, August rubbed her thigh warmly as he spoke, “Only for you love, I’ll do anything for you.”

bucky barnes — words of affirmation

For the majority of his life, he was used to hearing gruesome and morbid orders that were tasked for him to carry out. He was so used to hearing yells and harsh voices ringing in his ears; but now since he was free from their abusive hold, he didn’t have to hear the same sounds again. “Wakey wakey sleeping beauty,” was whispered into his ear, snapping him out of his sleeping state. Turning over, he looked at Y/N and smiled, “Are you sure I’m sleeping beauty and not you?” She just chuckled at his rebuttal as she laid her head on his chest and looked up at him, “I’m sure it’s you who’s the sleeping beauty I mean have you seen this face?” She took note as she ran her finger through his sculpted face, “Jawline that can cut deep, lips that are soft and delectable, eyes that are extremely expressive.” She then let her hand go down to where his heart was and delicately traced over it as she further explained, “And of course, what’s inside of you takes the cake of what makes you the sleeping beauty; a caring nature, compassionate to others, wit that is incomparable, and has so much love to give.” The super soldier could feel his heart swell double its current size with how comforting and heartfelt her compliment was. Grateful tears threatened to leave his eyes as she placed a chaste kiss on his chest and assured him, “Everything about you is beautiful, Bucky.”

jake jensen — quality time

“Are you free this Saturday?” Jake asked as he directed his focus from the computer to his girlfriend as she placed a mug of coffee on his working table. Curious and hopeful eyes were behind the lensed frame, hoping she would say that she was available. Leaning against his desk she crossed her arms and gave him a mocking look, “Depends on who’s asking and why,” but the puppy of man just grabbed at her forearms and pouted. “Please baby? I was hoping you’d be down for laser tag? Or if you don’t want to do that maybe we can watch a movie?” Y/N could not help but coo at how adorable her boyfriend looked; for a man who was part of the army he was too much of a softie. He despised having to be away from home for missions since he was always aching to spend time with you — and it didn’t really matter to him what it was you two were doing you could be museum-hopping, hiking, having a movie marathon, or just cuddling in bed. Which explains as to why he was inquiring whether or not you were available to spend time with him; leaning down to kiss his forehead, Y/N decided to put him out of his misery, “Yes love, I’m free on Saturday, we can go out for laser tag.” Standing up from where he was sitting down he excitedly wrapped his arms around the woman who was now laughing at how she mimicked the elation of a child. “Thank you, baby, can’t wait to kick your ass then.”

syverson — physical touch and quality time

Having been home from a deployment, it felt odd for Sy to not wake up when the sun was barely up or to not be squished with other men in a small space. Feeling movement in the bed where he lay, he quickly opened both his eyes and looked at the source of it. “Come back,” he groggily mumbled as he pulled Y/N closer and buried his face on her neck. “What if there’s somewhere I need to be, bear?” It was a surprise when she felt him whine, this alpha of a man whined at the thought of having to be away with his girlfriend. “I am gonna have to lock you inside the house, I just came back and there’s no way I’m gonna let you out until we’ve made up for lost time.” As she played with his short hair she pressed a kiss on the side of his forehead, “Good thing I have the week off then, huh?” his head shot up from her neck and looked at her excitedly, “No shit, baby? I get you all to myself for the whole week?” Nodding she busied her fingers again by running it through his buzz cut hair again. Feeling his thick arms wrap around her, she could feel the happiness and contentment resonate through his whole body. “I’m not letting you out of my hold, let alone my sight — I’m gonna need you all close to me and we’re gonna do everything together.”

lance tucker — physical touch

Having been involved in gymnastics at a young age, Lance’s hands were calloused and rough due to vigorous training. This then led him to be quite insecure and apprehensive when it came to physical contact with others, especially with someone he loves; for he fears they might run off once they feel the rough texture of his hands. Coming home from a long day filled with coaching he slumped down on the couch and took a deep breath. His muscles ached and it was starting to reach the point where it bothered him. “Hey bub, you just got home?” Y/N appeared from the kitchen and sat down beside the gymnast. As if on instinct, Lance laid his head on her lap and started to move his face around — as if it was a cat begging to be pet. Chuckling she did play with his hair with one hand while the other held on to his one hand. Letting out a satisfied hum he then began to vaguely recount his day, “Long day of coaching, switching up styles, correcting postures.” At the brief recount Y/N could feel how Lance tensed up and wanted to help him out hence why she offered, “How ‘bout you lie here and let me get that lavender oil you love? Then I can give the god of gymnastics a massage.” his eyes lit up and immediately lifted his head off her comfortable lap and laid down on his stomach as he tiredly mumbled, “Thank you baby, you’re massages are the best and I love your gentle touch.”

steve rogers — acts of service

Since retiring, Steve found himself comforted by having a routine. And much of his routine involves the things he does for Y/N — the love of his life. After finishing his morning run around the neighborhood, he immediately prepares coffee and sets out to cook breakfast. Upon padding down the stairs of their shared home, Y/N smiles at the sight of Steve placing the bacon, egg, and toast on two plates. “Good morning, honey,” she greeted him with a kiss on his lips. “Breakfast for my love,” he said as he placed a plate in front of her and slid to the seat opposite from where she was. “You have a busy day ahead of you, right?” She hummed in response to his question as she took a sip of the coffee he made, “Well I went to the gas station and made sure you had a full tank; I also prepared you your favorite lunch,” he pointed to the small lunch bag he bought her a few months back upon learning she would sometimes not have enough time to buy lunch if she had a busy day from work; so he took it upon himself to prepare lunch for her everyday. Placing her mug down, she held one of his hands in her own and looked at him fondly, “You spoil me too much; I think I’m getting too dependent on you.” Lifting her hand to his lips, he placed a few gentle kisses in the back of her palm and spoke sincerely, “I wouldn’t mind that at all, doll.”

carter baizen — receiving gifts

Luxurious and designer brands were something that Carter always had. It didn’t matter what kind of item it was — clothes, shoes, car, appliance, or electronics — but it was guaranteed that Carter had that object through the most expensive brand they had. So it was a surprise not only to Y/N, but also to Carter himself about how excited and touched he was every time the former gave him a gift. “Carter, I’m home!” Her yell seemed to bounce off the walls of his penthouse; one that was merely a living space but was turned into a warm and comforting home once she stepped foot in it, and in his life as well. “Hey, how was Canada?” he asked as he was seated on the sectional couch and patted for the spot beside him. Taking up on his offer she sat beside him as she placed a paper bag in his lap, “It was great! And I got this for you.” smiling, he thanked her for the gift and opened the bag as he pulled out the stuffed moose that was inside it, “A moose?” She nodded her head excitedly, “Well I don’t know, it just reminded me of you. Like you both have this cold and hard exterior; but really you both are softies,” she ended her explanation with a nervous giggle, fear settling in that Carter didn’t really like the gift. But as if he could read her thoughts he eased her nervousness with a smile and booped her nose, “Well it’s the best gift anyone has ever given me; so thank you, princess.” she sighed dramatically and leaned her back against his chest, and he wraps his arms around you and laughs at her silly antics. “That’s what you always say every time I give you something.” Holding the moose with one hand he shook it around as he talked in a silly voice, as if mimicking a cartoon character, “Well that’s because I do love everything you give me.”

will shaw — words of affirmation

In his pursuit of establishing himself as a businessman and entrepreneur, Will has heard a fair share of rejections and bad news. In fact he was so used to hearing these that it was quite rare and refreshing for him to hear reminders of positivity; and it wasn’t until Y/N came into his life and served to be the breath of fresh air for Will. Hanging up the phone call, Will let out an exasperated sigh and loosened the tie on his neck. Despite being successful in securing a meeting with potential business partners, he felt defeated as it took too much time and effort. The ringtone of his phone made him roll his eyes; though he did pick the phone up and answer the call without looking at the caller ID. “Yes, Mr. Scott?” Instead of the husky voice he was just talking to, it was instead the sweet voice of his girlfriend as she teased him, “Not a Mr. Scott, but should I be worried that you might like him more than me?” Upon hearing her voice he chuckled and shook his head, “No babe, there’s only you.” She laughed as well but despite that she was worried about him, “You alright, babe? Have you eaten?” Sitting up straight, he briefed her on what has happened so far, “Yeah I had a salad earlier. But guess what? I have a meeting with Mr. Scott, and if things go well they’re gonna be our business partners.” Her excited squeal made him excited as well, “That’s great babe! I told you that there was no need to doubt your presentation and skill!” Placing his hand on his chin, “I think you’re being too confident in me, babe” he sighed. “Well how could I not?” she said as she began listing off the qualities she admired about him, “You always get back up despite how many times you’ve fallen down, you’re determined to achieve what you want and will do all means to do so, and of course have you seen how good-looking you are? Mr. Scott would be an idiot to say no to that pretty face.” Her last remark had him roaring with laughter and shook his head at his silliness, “Oh babe, you do know how to boost someone’s confidence huh?”

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bbrandy2002 · 3 years

Text

Fool’s Rush In

Chapter 20

Book: TRR

Pairing: Liam x Riley

Warnings: Language and mentions of weird sexual stuff

**Thanks @burnsoslow. for pre-reading and “The Army” girls for snippet reads.

-------------------

“An email from the Countess?” Ana questioned curiously, just before hitting the video attachment that came with it. Her plush lips soon curved into an enchanted grin when it became apparent who the subjects in the video were and precisely what they were doing together. “Looks like you’re about to get your hard-hitting royal news after all.”

Having finally retrieved his phone, Donnie situated himself upright in the bed and began playing the same email attachment as his lover. By the sounds of the grunts and groans coming from Ana’s phone, it was apparent to the ace-reporter what he was about to watch -- even if the occasional horse neighs were a little confusing.

Within seconds of hitting play, the man’s jaw dropped wide open as he took in the content.

“Holy shit, dude, Is that …?”

Ana's intrigued gaze tore from her phone screen and raised a brow at Donnie. “The King’s head guard dressed like a cowboy spanking Lucretia Nevrakis and licking another woman wearing a horse mask in a barn?” She shook her head. “Yes … and did you just call me ‘dude’?”

Ignoring her question, the couple resumed watching for a few more seconds, their facial expressions morphing from one of intrigue to utter disgust when finally Lucretia went full-frontal, nudity before the camera, then spreading wide for Bastien. “Oh, God! The hell?” Donnie grimaced as Ana slapped a hand over her mouth next to him and turned her head away. “I can’t watch this shit.” He lamented, quickly shutting his phone off.

After Ana followed suit and powered her cell off too, the pair sat in uncomfortable silence, simultaneously staring blankly at the same wall across from them, neither knowing what to say or think about what they had just watched together. Eventually, Ana lifted the satin sheet covering her waist up a little higher over her breast, a sense of sleaze and uncleanliness rooting itself and sprouting throughout her body. “I … I don’t know what part was worse: Mystery horsewoman with the guinea pig in Bastien or Lucretia’s wrinkled tramp-stamp with ‘Connie’ written inside what I can only assume is a dick.”

Donnie pinched the bridge of his nose. “Let’s be clear: there was no worse part. It was all worse! What the hell was that, anyway?”

The Trend editor just shook her head slowly with a glazed-over expression in her eyes; she finally spoke, “I … I think I’m going to go now.”

“Ana! Don’t let this ruin our night.”

Her expression turned remorseful at his pleading; it had been a great night. “I’m sorry, Mr. Brine. I need to be alone.”

Neither one could look at the other. Ana slowly raised from the bed, gathering up her scattered clothes from the floor, tearing her bra from the doorknob, and then slipped on her heels. Why the Countess sent that video to them, she’d never know, but as she and Donnie exchanged a timid wave of goodbye, Ana left knowing she would never forgive Madeleine Amaranth for ruining the best night of sex she ever had.

This had to be some kind of bizarre and insane mistake.

And usually, Donnie Brine would call this “hard-hitting” new’s story into the station and scramble for the nearest camera to report on it.

This was not something he would ever share with Cordonia, nor would the duo realize what they just watched was not the video the Countess intended to send them.

---------------------------------

A baby. My baby. I’m going to be a father. Those words were all Liam could think about as he rode through the glittery neon boulevards of Las Vegas toward the hospital. At that moment, the clear blue heavens above him could open wide and strike him down with a bolt of thunder, and he’d swear he wouldn’t have felt a thing. The King was riding a wave of euphoria unlike anything he’d ever experienced; Riley loved him and was carrying his baby. Nothing in all the world mattered anymore.

Before taking off, it was clear that Bastien likely escaped during the brother’s brawl in the front yard of Riley’s home and apparently took the keys to the Escalade they arrived in with him. The neighborly Burt, who moments prior had a shotgun aimed at the royal duo, reluctantly agreed to drive into the city to drop them off at the hospital on his way to pick up his daughter on the east side of town. He gruffly mentioned, "my girl never learned not to kick her customers in the frank 'n' beans and steal their shit," but neither of the brothers paid much attention.

Riding in the back of a truck while sitting on a spare tire through sunny downtown Vegas wasn’t the way Liam intended to get there, but he was dead set on finding his Pussycat by any means necessary. And, of course, Leo called shotgun but was nice enough to offer his little brother the opportunity to “ride bitch”.

Liam unequivocally declined.

During the bumpy 25-minute ride to Valley Hospital, Liam wondered how it was possible to get everything he ever wanted in such a brief span of time. Literally, his entire heart's desires were being gifted to him one by one; it was both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. All he ever wanted was to find happiness, a chance to love, and have a genuine family of his own -- Not an arrangement that would guarantee him a life of misery at worst or of mediocrity at best. When he stepped foot in Sin City several weeks ago, depressed and hopeless at the prospects of his impending marriage to Madeleine, never did he expect life and fate would throw him a twist in the tale. All it took was a weekend bachelor party, an awkwardly shy woman mistaking him for her Tinder date, and a ton of hard booze shared between them to change the entire trajectory of his life.

Once the rusted-out truck came to a stop at the emergency entrance, Liam wasted no time climbing over the truck’s wooden rail sides and rushing through the revolving doors. Leo’s heavy footsteps could be heard racing behind him.

Liam’s heart pounded as the seconds -- which seemed liked hours -- ticked by. Not since he was a young boy waiting on his mother to return from her trip in Auvernal had he been more excited to reunite with someone.

Escorted through the long, winding hallways by hospital security to the radiology department, Liam was led inside a room, where his breath instantly hitched at catching his first glimpse of Riley in two-and-a-half days.

Sitting at the foot of an exam table, dressed in a hospital gown, slender legs bare and swinging freely over the side, Riley’s head snapped up at the sound of the door opening. “Liam,” she whispered, relief dripping from her eyes before sliding off the table.

“Pussycat,” he breathed, unable to contain his emotions as she nearly sprinted the short distance between them and into his waiting arms. “I have missed you terribly, Love.”

Riley held onto him tightly, afraid to let go. “I’m so sorry, Liam. I’m so very sorry,” her strangled voice choked out. “I never should have listened to Madeleine.”

“Shhhh. You have nothing to be sorry about,” Liam assured, his hand threading and kneading through her bountiful hair comfortingly. “I watched the security footage, and I saw the way Madeleine confronted you. The way she grabbed you, the way she -- hurt you.” Liam’s face tightened before he kissed her head. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Riley answered meekly, “Because she threatened to release an old video of me being intimate during my first marriage. She told me if I didn’t leave, that video would get out and that it would look bad on you, and the council would likely strip you of your crown.” She squeezed him tighter. “I had to protect you.”

Liam looked down at his wife affectionately, placing both hands on the sides of her face, his thumbs wiping away the tears desperately clinging like morning dew to her eyes. “Sweetheart, look at me. The only thing you ever have to protect when it comes to me is my heart. I have guards -- although not the best -- to protect me physically. I have tradition and a birthright to protect my name and crown and a military to safeguard my country. But you, Riley ... you, have the power to destroy me. You’re the keeper of my heart. The one who makes it beat. Without your love to keep it going … well, let’s just say I don’t ever want to know what that kind of pain would feel like.” They kissed once more as if it were their first and last one ever.

Plucking out a blade of grass from his hair, Riley smiled brightly for the first time in days. “I’ll guard it with everything in me, Liam. I swear it.”

“You bet your sweet ass you will,” Liam smirked mischievously, grabbing a handful of her backside, causing her to belt out a laugh. “Besides, you took a drunken vow at the Graceland Wedding Chapel before Leo, Mongo, and Pinquee Kittee to love me tender, love me true; that’s about as sacred and binding of an oath as it gets.”

Riley chuckled. “I did. And we all know how those three are the greatest examples of loving and committed relationships. Even if Mongo did try to steal you away from me.”

“Which worries me considering he’s apparently our ‘son.’” Liam said it tongue-in-cheek, but it instantly reminded him of the other reason he was in such a rush to get to his queen. The playfulness in his mannerisms tapered off, and he became more serious. Liam leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead before working his way lower to the tip of her nose, her lips, and further to Riley’s chin. Slowly sinking to his knees, sliding his hands down her body until he had a firm grip on her slender hips, Liam rested his own forehead on Riley’s lower tummy.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?”

“What’s that?” Riley asked softly.

Liam placed a lingering kiss onto the thin covering over her flat tummy and glanced up into her gleaming eyes, both filled with ceaseless wonder and rapture. “How you can love someone so much that you’ve never met.”

Riley blinked away a tear, her tiny fingers tracing feather-like trails through his hair. “I know, and yet somehow I’ve been asking myself that question since I met you.”

Liam’s eyes crinkled with a tender smile. “Me too.”

---------------------------------

Pacing languidly up and down the hallway outside the room where Liam and Riley were reuniting, Leo let out an exasperated huff before halting his steps to take a quick gander through the long glass window of the door. Leo smiled at watching his brother and sister-in-law embrace and seemed thrilled to be with one another again. And the prospects of -- in his mind -- becoming an uncle “again” was cool and all, but he was bored as hell. Liam was adamant about the former prince staying put and giving him this time needed to speak with Riley in private. Usually, Leo would pay no attention to what Liam asked of him, but maybe, just maybe, it was time for him to get serious and act like the adult he was. Read the room. Respect boundaries. Know when to quit.

Or maybe not.

Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he headed back in the direction that he and Liam had been led from moments ago, looking for something to kill time. Strolling leisurely past a set of double doors that displayed “Emergency” in big red letters next to them, a thought suddenly struck, and he took two gliding steps backward. Leo lifted a speculative brow; there was something in the inner machination of his chaotic brain that told him to follow his gut, head inside, and he wouldn’t be sorry. Never one to ignore an instinct or impulse, Leo punched the large metallic button on the wall, causing one of the automatic doors to swing open.

After stepping inside, he meandered around for a minute, not exactly sure what he was looking for but hoping he might catch a glimpse of a hot nurse walking around without a top on who would want to do naughty things to him. Or perhaps, a naked lady doctor with a nice ass who would manhandle him out of the emergency department, but who he’d eventually win over with his impeccable good looks and god-like sex appeal. He could pretend to be her patient, and if he were lucky, she’d have a bad bedside manner.

Passing a row of draped exam rooms, Leo noticed one curtain pulled open and a young brunette, with part of her thong showing, crouched on the floor, peeking stealthily through the blue drapery that divided the area from the patient on the opposite side.

Curious now to what this woman was so interested in from the next exam room, Leo crossed his arm and stared downward at the floor, lightly whistling a tune, as two doctors walked past him. When they rounded a corner, Leo edged closer to the curtain to listen in.

“Mr. Walker, do you feel any pain when I do this?”

“Ow! What the fuck do you think?”

At hearing Drake’s irascible voice, Leo’s ears instantly shot up. “No way,” Leo mumbled in astonishment to himself. “Walker is here?” The last he knew, Drake was supposed to have headed back to Cordonia the day before. He leaned in closer.

“You pinched my dick with a pair of damn tweezers. Yeah, you could say there’s a little pain there. Shit!”

Leo clamped a fist over his mouth to keep from busting out. Of all the places his naughty gut had ever led him to, knowing Drake was here and having transplanted dick problems may have been in his top 100 --Nothing would ever beat running with the bulls in Barcelona with Kanye and a very stoned Prince Charles. Leo smiled fondly at the memory before shaking his head and getting back to business.

“We’re just making sure you have feeling in your penis, Mr. Walker.”

“Then touch it with a fucking finger. Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you people? You wanna take a jackhammer to my knees next and see if they feel pain too?”

“That won’t be necessary,” Leo overheard the doctor tell Drake. “I expect you’re going to be fine, Mr. Walker. I didn’t see any major discoloration aside from a deep bluish hue to your testicles --” Leo snorted out loudly, causing the doctor to turn his head briefly to the disruption outside the curtain, before clearing his throat and continuing, “A hearty ejaculation or two should clear that right up. When was the last time you --”

“I’ll take care of it,” Drake hastily interrupted in a peevish tone, not wanting the physician to finish the question.

“Very well then. You should be fine. I’ll have the nurse get your discharge papers together, and you can be on your way … And, sir ... try to avoid getting ninja smacked by hookers in the future.”

“I’ll see what I can do …. asshole.” Drake snarled under his breath.

Feeling spunky, an impish grin crossed Leo’s lips as he strolled away undetected from Drake’s doctor leaving his room. “The Drakesters not going anywhere just yet,” he snickered, heading toward a cart with blue scrubs that he passed earlier. “Paging Dr.Wolfshitz to trauma room one. Stat.”

--------------------

Still peeking inconspicuously into the next exam room, Alyssa’s gaze followed Drake’s doctor and a nurse as they exited to work on his discharge. She remained motionless and quiet, barely breathing, fearful she’d get caught. Why she hadn’t looked away yet was beyond her. What was only supposed to be a little looksie at the man, to quench her gnawing intrigue over what was below his belt, had now left her drawn to him.

And while Alyssa saw for herself that everything was normal down there, -- humungous, actually -- it was the sadness and hurt in his deep chocolate eyes that kept the perky, petite woman in spy mode.

“You can stop hiding behind that curtain, Riley’s friend,” Drake grumbled.

“Eep!” Alyssa yelped at being caught and took a quick step back, nearly toppling clumsily over her feet. He couldn’t have been talking about her. He wasn’t even looking in her direction when he said it. She had been so careful to remain hidden. But who the hell else could he be talking to? Alyssa held her breath, hoping another one of Riley’s friends was hidden on the other side.

“I saw your little beady eyes watching me. Might as well come out from behind that curtain and laugh in my face … you wouldn’t be the first one.”

There were no doubts he was talking about her now. Frozen in panic and unable to move, Alyssa’s cheeks burned, and her heart raced at getting called out. She wondered why she couldn’t have just left well enough alone. If curiosity killed the cat, Alyssa just spent all nine of her lives.

“That’s how it's gonna be, huh?” Drake called out to her again in a snarky tone, yet Alyssa didn’t dare move. “That’s fine. I know I’m just a big joke to everyone now.” He lowered his voice just slightly in self-pity. “Maybe in some ways, I always have been.”

That stung. Alyssa couldn’t discern whether he was actually upset with her about snooping on him -- he probably was -- or as the nagging feeling in her gut was telling her: he just needed a friend. Taking in a deep breath, she skittishly slipped the curtain aside, avoiding eye contact and forcing only a diffident smile. “I’m … I’m sorry.”

He smiled back. “I’m not. I’m Drake.”

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With Riley discovering she was pregnant, the E.R. attending opted to forego continuing with the ordered x-rays, believing she had nothing more than a bruised tailbone from her fall, anyway. With the pain she experienced since the encounter with Madeleine, the doctor wanted her to have an ultrasound to ensure everything was fine with the baby and date the pregnancy.

Riley laid back on the exam table, feet planted and legs separated. A technician gingerly moved around an ultrasound probe under the sheet draped from her waist to her bent up knees. Riley and Liam vigilantly watched the screen, anxiously waiting for the black-and-white image to produce the first glimpse of their baby.

Flashing a timid smile, Riley glanced up at Liam, who was hovering over her with his eyes transfixed on the screen. Noticing her unsure look, he leaned down and whispered, “Everything okay, love?”

She shook her head almost imperceptibly and answered meagerly with all seriousness, “What if … what if our baby has a beard, Liam?”

The bewildered king puckered his forehead, unsure what to say. “Wh--why would the baby have a beard, pussycat?” He squeezed her hand reassuringly before she yanked it away and covered her eyes in embarrassment.

She sucked in an unsteady breath, impervious to the prodding continuing below. “Because my Aunt Clem’s firstborn came out with a tiny goatee like that munchkin from the Lollipop Guild,” she began to whimper in increasing frustration, plucking at the tip of her chin.

Liam’s eyes widened as he blew out a huff of air. “Then … I suppose … we’ll stick him in a carnival or something.” He chuckled despite himself. “Or get him one of those top hats and a cane.”

“It was a girrrrrrl,” Riley cried out, covering her face again. “My dad’s family is from Kentucky … there’s gotta be inbreeding somewhere in the past. Our baby will come out looking like a mini Chewbacca, and it’s all my fault. Oh god! What have I done to our child?” She sniffled through her rant, “If you want a divorce, I’ll understand.”

Normally able to keep a stoic demeanor in any kind of situation, Liam just couldn’t do it in this instance. He turned his face away to prevent his wife from seeing the giant smirk on his face and to take a moment to regain his composure from wanting to bust out at her theatrics. He didn’t know what the hell he married into or why this woman he loved so much all of a sudden had forgotten she was adopted.

It would be an interesting nine months.

Riley frowned with a simper, “You can’t even look at me. I’ll have to raise this little hairball all by myself. They’ll have us in the ‘weird things’ section of the National Enquirer next to Drake.”

She was correct: he couldn’t look at her -- she was being completely ridiculous. Liam’s shoulders bounced against his stifled laughter. “Dear God, Riley. You’ve got to stop.”

“You’re laughing at me.”

Unaware of the pair of eyes at the foot of the exam table, glaring between the couple in absolute confusion, the technician performing the scan cleared her throat to break the tension. “I hate to interrupt … this.” She nodded between the two.”But, here’s your baby.” She tapped her fingertip on the screen to a small oblong shape on the monitor with a tiny white form in the center. Riley lowered her hands from her teary face and whipped her head around at the same time Liam did, both wholly captivated. “It’s too early to tell if there is a … goatee. But this little flicker right here --” She pointed out. “-- Is where the heart is beating.”

Feeling his wife’s hand grip his tighter, Liam stood motionless for a moment as he watched the tech pause the screen to get measurements before sucking in his lips and dropping his head onto Riley’s shoulder. “Did you see the heart beating, my love? That’s our baby. Our perfect baby.”

Blinking back a tear of joy, Riley turned her head toward her shoulder to meet Liam’s adoring eyes. “Thank you for not covering your lizard.”

-----------------------------

Blushing from head to toe in guilt and embarrassment, Alyssa took a step inside of Drake’s room, letting the curtain fall back behind her. Twirling a section of hair around her finger, she continued to apologize, feeling it was the right thing to do. “Again, I’m really sorry, Mr. Walker --”

“I told you my name is Drake. Mr. Walker was my father’s name. Please, just call me Drake,” he insisted in a softer tone that took the awkward-feeling Alyssa by surprise.

“Drake,” she repeated as she picked at the cuticle of her thumbnail, “I shouldn’t have been watching you, and I know I invaded your privacy. I swear, in spite of what this looks like, I’m not some creeper. I just thought … “ Alyssa looked away bashfully, twisting on her feet. “you’re really handsome.” It was true, even if she knew damn well that’s not why she peeked in at him.

Drake cocked a brow, calling her bluff. “Really?” he replied skeptically. ”That’s the only thing you were looking at?”

Dabbing at her increasingly perspiring forehead and feeling the blood drain into her feet, Alyssa declared, “I think I’m going to pass out now.”

Sensing she was serious, Drake quickly tapped the rolling chair next to his bed and insisted she sit down. Walking on wobbly legs, Alyssa finally plopped down on the chair and fanned her ashen face with one hand. Drake quickly twisted the cap off an unopened bottle of cold water one of the nurses had given him and offered it to Alyssa. She gratefully took it and guzzled a giant swig from the plastic container. Soon her breathing normalized, and the color in her face started to pinken again.

Drake stared at her in concern. “Do you want me to yell for the doctor?”

Alyssa shook her head insistently. “No. I’m better now. I just got a little anxious, is all, but I deserved it. I shouldn’t have looked at you.” She paused for a moment before offering a genuine smile. “By the way: I don’t think you’re a joke, and I would never laugh at you. I really do think you’re handsome.”

He could tell what she was saying to him was true, and for the first time in weeks, it felt nice to have someone to talk to who didn’t want to discuss a certain medical procedure he’d recently undergone. “I appreciate that … Alyssa, right?” She nodded her head. “You have beautiful eyes --”

“I hate to interrupt this party, -- ay,” A doctor in blue scrubs, a surgical cap, mask, and a horrible Canadian accent came strolling in gleefully, almost out of nowhere. “It’s time for your surgery, Mr. Walkersan -- ay.”

Drake shot straight up in his bed, glaring at the man. “What?” he screeched. “I’m getting discharged. That other doctor said I was fine.”

“Oh no, no, no -- ay. Doctor … Pepper … Stein, sent me down here to wheel you at once into surgery. Your test results showed a lot of icky stuff that needs to be taken care of at once lest you lose your manhood again. Ay.”

Narrowing his eyes, Drake shot back. “What bad stuff?”

“Uh, let me see here -- ay,” Leo began flipping through a makeshift chart he was holding in his hands and pretending to scan over a particular page. “Oy me. There seems to be … algae overgrowth in the upper ... sphincter of the … Dua Lipa -- ay. And thees muy crabs have set up a colony on the Los ballsackos.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” Drake asked incredulously while Alyssa patted his arm comfortingly. “What the hell is a Los ballsackos?”

“Es los ballsackos is los ballsackos.” Leo hastily scolded as he eyed Drake sternly. “We shan't have no time to waste. Das ist Viener schloggin … we remove the viewer and then the scloggin or there be little la cucarachas crawling everywhere -- la vie en rose, amigo.”

“No one’s removing my viener, or my scloggin!” Drake protested.

“Excuse me,” Alyssa rose to her feet, knowing there was something off with this sketchy acting doctor. “I speak fluent Spanish and French, and I can tell you, almost none of that made sense. Not to mention the fact that I believe part of that was German and ancient English. ¿De dónde sacaste tu título, doctor?”

Leo’s bright blue eyes dulled with uncertainty as Alyssa crossed her arms, awaiting a response. Scrambling for an answer and wishing he’d paid more attention during his language lessons, he ultimately replied with a shirk, “Eh … Despacito?”

“Despacito?” Alyssa challenged before glancing over at Drake, who was still glaring a hole into the perceived physician, then returning her gaze back to a cow-eyed Leo. “Who are you, really?”

"Who am I really?" Leo replied with a smug grin as he lowered the surgical mask that was hiding his face. "I'm Dr. Wolfschitz, baby."

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vixenpen · 3 years

Note

Can you please do another au where the reader is in bad girls club!! I just read your Bakugo one and omfg the serotonin legend I got from it was unreal!!! Could you do sero or denki? Love your writing btw❤️

Kaminari x Badgirl Club Reader

You started out as Kaminari’s favorite YouTube personality.

He loved your wild humor, comedy skits, and even your makeup tutorials and get ready with me vids

⚡️“Guys! Y/n just dropped a new video!”

💥 Who cares? Why the hell are you watching a makeup tutorial anyway? It’s not like you’re gonna need it

⚡️Ok, first of all: you never know when you’ll need a skill, second; y/n can make anything interesting. Even makeup.

Yes, Denki’s been bragging on you since before he even met you. So much so, that he eventually gets Mina and Sero on board to watch

When they fall in love with your fun personality and cool content too, Denki is SO smug:

Eventually everyone gets on board. Even Bakugo’s cranky ass gets a chuckle or two out of your videos

So when you drop the announcement that you’re going to be on the Bad Girl’s Club, your #1 fan is holding a one man parade on social media

He goes live on Twitter to gush and congratulate you. Claiming he’s going to be having live watch parties of the entire season just to see you

He’s so cute and excited that his live catches your attention. You tweet him; thanking him for his support and asking for his YouTube channel

Honey when Kaminari sees your re-tweet his mind is:

Honey, he passes out. But not before gushing on the retweet where he drops the link and screen shotting the moment

True to his word, Denki streams every episode and live reacts. Half Your audience has subscribed to him and his reaction vids are almost as popular as your appearance on BGC

⚡️Do y’all see how they’re hating on my baby? 😠Y/n deserves better! How can anyone have beef with y/n she’s perfect! 😩Just walk away y/n, that chick isn’t worth it! Alright guys, remember to vote for our favorite, y/n, so she can stay in the house!🤩

The man is a one man hype machine!

Even you think his bubbly personality is adorable. You find yourself watching his lives and laughing along with him

Eventually, you slide into his DMs

Denki passes away when he sees your name.

He’s convinced it’s a troll

He literally let the message sit for a week because somehow, he thought the username that took him directly to your verified page was fake🙄 (look we all know baby boy ain’t the brightest bulb in the box)

⚡️y/n....is this rly u?

You: I wondered when ur goofy ass was gonna reply 😏

Holy shit it was you!!!!

Denki’s fingers are trembling through the whole convo. He’s trying his hardest to be cool and not freak out, but it’s hard

You guys do start talking and flirting subtly every couple weeks and eventually he starts to relax. You’re really cool and sweet and just a normal person.

Then 2 weeks turns to every week and every week turns into every other day

Eventually, it begins to come across on camera that y/n is sneaking off to make phone calls often and smiling at her phone

The entire Internet starts speculating that you and Denki are a thing, but surprisingly,’the two chattyist people on the planet manage to keep it a secret for a while

That is until the girls take a trip to Japan for a special episode

You: Pikaboo 🥺🥺 I wanna see you

⚡️ I wanna see you too Boopie! 😍😍 can you sneak off set?

You: I’ll make it work

When you let him know that you’ve touch down in Japan, Denki is practically bursting at the seams. The whole squad is giving him weird looks, but he could care less.

He picks you up from the house in a blacked out sports car and the two of you start making out immediately. Got baby boy like:

Baby is just: 😩😍😩😍😩😍 the whole time. Lord have mercy this man loves him some you

He takes you to some cool, secluded spots in Tokyo and just gazes at how your face lights up at everything

You guys go to different food stands, shopping, karaoke, discreet little bars. You name it, he takes you, and he has the means to do it with his hero money

By the time Denki drops you back off, the sun is coming up, but at least you two managed to have some discreet fun with out getting caught

Or so y’all think

Then next morning fuzzy cellphone pics of the two of you club hopping, partying and making out are all over Twitter the top trending post and your collective fans are BUZZING honey!

Denki’s line is blowing up from the squad calling him, his follower count is climbing, live streams popping, the BGC audience has practically doubled, and poor y/n ain’t getting no peace in the house now that everyone knows she’s connected to a hot, rich, foreign hero

⚡️So much for keeping it a secret

You: 😂 we tried so hard!

Eventually, you two are forced to go public with your relationship, but the internet eats it UP!

Both your brands get a popularity boost

Y/n is invincible in the house, pretty much guaranteed to win and Denki has a new side career as a social media celeb

The two of you are perfect together. Bombing each other’s live streams to flirt, crack jokes and answer fan questions.

Your subscribers are WELL fed on content, and when you finally do win BGC, the first thing you do is fly out to Japan to celebrate with your man.

#my hero academia #bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #my hero fanfic #bnha #bnha headcanons #kaminari x y/n #mha headcanons #denki kaminari #denki headcanons #kaminari x black reader #kaminari x you #bad girls club #fun headcanons #i really enjoyed making this #kaminari headcanons #chargebolt

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strawberrysoup · 4 years

Text

Pocketful of Posies || Chapter 1

You’d been hiding for years and years now; from your family, from society, from alphas and packs. Suppressants were dangerous but effective and necessary for an omega who refused to be owned—but no suppressants were strong enough to fool the nose of a super soldier, who together with his pack would stop at nothing to bind you to them forever.

pairings: dark!Avengers x reader word length: 3.3k chapters: 1/? warnings: A/B/O dynamics, power imbalances, noncon and dubcon sexual situations, loss of autonomy, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat — this is a dark!fic, read at your own risk. Open the read more and CTRL + F, search “content warnings” to skip to detailed trigger warnings at the bottom of the chapter.

Cleaning rich people’s vacation homes hadn’t been your dream job growing up. You had such high hopes when you were a kid, well into your teens, of becoming a zoologist. It had started off like most kid’s dreams—in kindergarten you wanted to be a veterinarian. That grew into wanting to become a herpetologist, but then you wondered, why limit yourself? As a zoologist you could be around tons and tons of animals, studying their behaviors and ecological impacts. It was about half way past your fourteenth birthday that you realized none of your dreams mattered.

You woke in the middle of the night to a crippling pain in your stomach, an unbearable heat boiling under your flesh. You must’ve been screaming, because your parents burst in frantically—only to stop dead upon stepping past the threshold. At the time you had no idea why, but it had been shock. Omegas were rare nowadays, more and more betas were being born while the number of omegas dropped. It was a point on contention; betas could breed with alphas, rendering the omega almost obsolete but alphas, especially ones with packs, wanted omegas.

Personally, you figured that evolution had decided to take things into its’ own hands. Everything about omegas spat in the face of adaption; they were small and delicate, hardwired to obey alpha commands even to their own detriment, experienced a full weeks’ worth of being completely and utterly incapable of survival on their own—

Well, unless one acquired (through whatever means necessary) methods to prevent it that one. Heats, a homegrown threat guaranteed to commit acts of violence at least twice a year. By the time your first had worn off, your parents had already jumped into action. They had three different packs bidding on you. Your mother had been bubbling with glee, talking about how wonderful it was that she had produced an omega when she herself was a beta. Your very existence was about to rocket them into both fame and fortune. So, you ran away. That same night.

It had been shockingly easy to locate illegal suppressants. They taught all about them in school, how they were horrible and taxing on an omega’s physiology. Suppressants masked an omega’s scent, prevented their heats, and (in your opinion) were the best invention of the twenty first century. You couldn’t have given a flying fuck about what negative impacts they might’ve had on your body—death would be a reprieve. Unfortunately you’d yet to have any of the widely touted negative effects (effects that you were pretty sure were made up to keep omegas afraid and compliant) and so you found yourself cleaning rich people’s vacation homes just over the Canadian border.

You’d been living out of your car since you first bought it at sixteen, for five hundred dollars. You gave a creepy beta a blowjob to get your license forged. It was the best investment you’d ever made (not that you had the opportunity to make many) and the clunker was still getting you from point A to point B and that’s all you needed. You had to move constantly, staying in one place too long meant people started to notice you, especially in the small towns you frequented in Ontario. But there was so much forest surrounding you that every once in a while you could just drop off the face of the earth, camping so deep in the woods no one would stumble across you. It made staying anonymous so much easier.

That was actually the current plan, after you finished cleaning this last massive cabin; to abscond into the woods for a while, until you’ve faded from everyone’s memory. You won’t return to this town for at least a year. You’ll spark recognition when you return, but not enough for anyone to consider you more than an outsider in their close-knit community. The kind woman who lets you work for her cleaning company so sporadically will remember you when you ring her, the only person particularly thrilled to hear you’re back for a few months.

You do an excellent job and you do it fast— you can thoroughly and perfectly clean a 6 bedroom mansion by yourself in less than 10 hours and you were paid under the table so you didn’t require overtime, which Mrs. Hunt loved (there was no tax to be taken from an unreported cash payment though, so it was a fair trade in your opinion). You would work yourself to the bone, 10 hours a day everyday there was work available for at least three months and then dip without any expectations until the next time you returned, when she was gushing over the amazing reviews your work had gotten the last time you were around.

It was symbiotic existence—you were paid well for your efforts, more than enough to sustain living out of your car for months at a time, and your performance drove her online reviews into the 4.9 stars range and made it feasible for her to raise her prices. Mrs. Hunt didn’t ask any questions either, even when you requested to only work alone and couldn’t provide any identification beyond a driver’s license.

You were finishing up the kitchen in what was definitely one of the nicest places you’d ever cleaned when your phone went off in your back pocket. It made your skin prickle. Very few people had your number and you couldn’t think of a single reason they’d ring you instead of texting unless something was wrong. You propped the mop against your shoulder and dug out the phone, frowning at Mrs. Hunt’s name on the screen.

“Hello?”

“Oh sweetie, I’m so glad I got a hold of you! How are you doing?”

“I’m well, Mrs. Hunt,” you answered, your voice coming out semi-robotically as you strained not to sound panicked while continuing the conversation like a normal fucking person, “I’m just about done here, I was finishing the dry mop in the kitchen when you called and then all I need to do is pack up.”

“Oh perfect! I was calling because the owner just rang me, apparently some of his packmates will be arriving a bit earlier than anticipated—potentially within the next hour. Something about someone getting caught up at work, I’ll spare you the details. But if you’re almost done then you’ll probably be gone by the time they arrive.”

“Certainly Mrs. Hunt,” you’d immediately started frantically dry mopping the moment the words ‘within the next hour’ escaped the woman’s mouth, phone clamped between your ear and shoulder. “I’ll be gone in the next few minutes.”

“Now even if you aren’t its okay,” the concern in her voice meant that your own had betrayed you, waivered when you responded without your knowledge. “I always warn the owners that if they arrive before the scheduled time that there’s a possibility the house won’t be done and/or there might be people actively working in the house. You won’t get in any trouble, okay?”

“R-Right, thank you ma’am,” you swallowed heavily, finishing the last swipe across the tile in the kitchen and hustling back into the foyer. “I really won’t be but a minute though. I always keep all of my equipment put away and together if I’m not using it, so I really just need to pack up the mop.”

Which you’d already shoved into the rolling cart you picked up each morning that held all of your cleaning supplies provided by the company.

“Don’t forget your bucket too!” Mrs. Hunt sounded smiley again, “I’ll leave the key under the mat so you can stow your cart tonight. Have a good one swee—.”

“You too!” You might’ve hung up a touch too soon to be considered polite, shoving the phone back into your pocket and running into the kitchen. There was no time to dwell on manners.

The mop bucket was sitting on the counter, already washed and dried and waiting to be put away. You’d started keeping your things completely put away at all times the same day you’d been accosted by a homeowner who arrived home earlier than expected while you were still trying to pack up. You’d tried to put your notice in that night, a couple of years ago now, but Mrs. Hunt begged you not to—promised it would never happen again. This must’ve been her best attempt at preventing it. At least you had already planned to leave town tonight anyway.

You nearly sprinted back to the cart, haphazardly tossing the stupid bucket on top and wheeling it towards the huge front doors. You’d just stopped to reach around and grab the handle when the knob turned and the left door was pushed open, nearly hitting your cart.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he was a beta, curly haired and dark eyed with pale skin, wearing a pair of glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Did I knock anything over?”

“N-No, sir,” you pulled the cart back a few steps, nearly trembling with the effort it took not to blast right past him, especially when you noticed him carefully scenting the air. "The house is all clean, I was j-just leaving.”

“Thank you, for getting everything clean for us. We don’t get to come out here as often as we like, I’m sure the place collected a lot of dust in our absence,” he smiled, looking both parts shy and calculating to your well trained eye— and you had no time for such consideration.

“Not too much, h-have a nice night!” You could feel your pulse racing and that was bad. Even the good suppressants, the ones that most of your money went to, had difficulty completely masking the scent of panicking omega.

“Did you use bleach?” The question caught you off guard and you almost jumped when he put a hand on your cart, glancing through the array of chemicals.

“Y-Yes, in the bathrooms. I wasn’t informed of any sensitivities—”

“Nothing a little fresh air won’t take care of,” you wanted him to stop looking at you like that, like there was some pale flash of recognition behind his eyes. “Would you go open the windows in the bathrooms upstairs? I’m afraid my nose is pretty sensitive, several of my packmates are similar.”

You did not like that his nose was especially sensitive and you hated that his packmates were similarly afflicted. It felt like getting punched in the face with a fight or flight instinct, your brain immediately demanded that you leave the cart and run past him—fuck the cart, fuck the job, you could find something else.

“Oh, and do you have the key to the front doors? I might as well get them from you now instead of us having to go down to the office tomorrow.” Your hand immediately dove into your pocket, yanking out the single key and dropping it in his palm. “Thanks— and the windows? Sorry, I just can’t go up there until it’s aired out.”

He wasn’t a huge man but the way he filled the doorway made you second guess trying to run past him, even if he was greying at the temples and looking a little rumpled. It was strange, you wouldn’t usually have such an intense reaction to a beta, but something about him was vaguely unsettling. So instead of trying to make a run for it, you turned on your heel and forced yourself to calmly walk up the stairs. There were four massive bedrooms in the cabin, each with its own bathroom and you’d need to go through and open the windows for the three bathrooms that had them. It meant darting into huge bedrooms, dodging expensive furniture and knickknacks and trying not to dirty the freshly mopped and swept hardwood floors in the process.

It took about five minutes but you felt like you’d run a marathon, your heart was pounding and there was sweat at the nape of your neck. All you wanted was out of the stupid fucking house, immediately. You dashed down the stairs and turned the corner, seeing your cart right where you left it. The door was still open too, but the beta was no where to be seen. You immediately darted forward, grabbing the cart tightly and beginning to push it past the threshold—

You were stopped in your tracks at the sight of two unnecessarily broad alphas. Both were tall, the white man standing just an inch or so taller, with a full beard and blond hair. The black alpha had facial hair too, a cleanly edged goatee to match a faded cut. Both were incredibly attractive and putting off waves of pheromones, to the point that your head floated for a moment. Your lips clamped shut on a whine, instinct trying to push through and alert the two powerful alphas of your presence. Instead you ducked your head and continued out the door.

“Hi there, sweetheart.” Your gaze snapped up, immediately locking with a pair of dark brown eyes. “You the housekeeper?”

“Yes sir,” you answered quietly, stopping short in front of them when neither moved out of your way. “Sorry to have been here so late. Have a good evening.”

Both were still smiling, still pointedly not moving.

“My name’s Steve, that’s Sam,” the blond’s nose twitched, just slightly, and you realized he was very discretely scenting the air. “Nice to meet you. Do you live in town?”

“N-No, please excuse me,” you nudged the cart forward just an inch but they still didn’t budge and panic began coursing through your blood with renewed vigor, “excuse m—”

“Your scent is… confusing,” Steve’s head tilted to the side, “I don’t mean to be crass, of course, but I couldn’t help but notice.”

“It’s always been this way,” the response was automatic and your brain began shutting down all unnecessary functions; you were about to have to run and hope your omega physiology would make you faster than them.

“You smell almost like an omega,” he continued, both hands coming to rest on his hips, emphasizing the width of his shoulders. “But not quite?”

“I’m a beta.”

“Are you sweetheart?” Sam’s voice was a rumble, his head tilted to the side while his dark eyes burned holes into your skin.

The tone an alpha used with naughty omegas was deliberate and tightly controlled, the same as a command or a purr or a growl. It was on purpose, an attempt to nicely draw out the correct response. He wanted you to admit you were an omega, to tell them the truth of your own volition. The fact that your hindbrain desperately wanted to comply was a completely different issue—one you didn’t have time to address right now.

“Positive,” you breathed, clenching your fists tightly around the handles of the cart for just a second before deciding to leave it behind; you’d never be coming back here, there was no reason to worry about preserving your job.

Your eyes were quick and indefinitely perceptive. Being an omega was one step up from being a prey species, it came with inherent instincts that made you especially good at predicting behaviors. After all, an omega was only as good as their ability to please and soothe packmates. One of the single upsides to being an omega was that you were fast though—fast enough to outrun most alphas. And you only needed to go about a hundred and fifty feet, once you were in your car you could certainly get away. So the second you realized the pair was about to shift, moving to face each other more than you, you darted around the cart and dodged to the left.

It wasn’t your fault, honestly. There was no way you could’ve known you weren’t dealing with normal alphas. The blond was so fast that he almost moved between blinks—one moment he was still, the next he’d wrapped his arms around you and tugged you back into his chest. His arms were like steel, one wrapped around your torso to keep your arms pinned to your sides while the other carefully held your chin. Your hindbrain was screaming now, submit, submit, make alpha happy and you bit down on your tongue to hold in the whimpers, the omega sounds your throat was trying to produce.

“Shhh, shh, calm down,” it was half a tone away from being a purr and you continued to squirm while you still could—an alpha command was coming, you could feel it in your bones.

“Let Steve smell you,” Sam was rumbling instead of talking again, a similar half purr to how Steve had started speaking. "Everything’s okay, omega.”

You felt a nose nudge down your neck, towards your scent gland and you bared your teeth at the man in front of you. “I’m not an omega!”

“You smell like omega,” Steve’s breath ghosted over your skin and you fought a shiver. "Sort of. It’s buried, under… beta… sour beta?”

“What sort of suppressants are you on, sweetie?” You startled as the beta from earlier emerged from the house, wiping his hands on a dish towel absently. "Are you cutting them with anything? Heroin, or coke? It’s okay, you just need to tell me.”

“Tell Bruce sweetheart,” Sam coaxed, automatically moving to roll up the sleeves of your shirt, evidently looking for track marks. "Where do you get them?”

“I’m not on suppressants!” Your voice was almost a shriek at this point, desperately imitating the behavior of an angry beta rather than a terrified omega. “I’m a beta! Get off of me!”

“Okay, okay, here then,” Steve’s arm around your torso tightened, the one on your chin beginning to work its way down towards your jeans. "There’s only way one to tell for sure.”

Shock and fear and humiliation; an array of emotions swarmed through your body as his hand popped the button but those were the three you could identify and you immediately started thrashing your legs—he was going to check if you had an omega ridge and then everything would be over. It was a defining physical characteristic that couldn’t be passed off as anything other than what it was: a boney protrusion meant to catch on an alpha’s knot so they could be locked in place. In females it was found in the vagina, prominently featured directly before the g-spot so a knot would cause persisting pleasure. For males it was similarly positioned next to the prostate.

“Calm down, calm down!” Sam crooned, hands coming up to cup your face as while Steve’s slithered down the front of your jeans and into your panties. "It’s okay sweetheart, no matter what. Whatever Steve finds, you’re okay. You’re safe. We’ll keep you safe.”

The thrashing was doing nothing but tiring you out, you’d already been intensively cleaning for the past 9 hours without a break and it certainly wasn’t dissuading the hand slithering between your folds. You bit down on your tongue harder, until you drew blood to prevent the whimpers—you couldn’t make that stupid sound, you’d never make that stupid, pathetic, whiney noise, you couldn’t. Not even when a long, thick finger penetrated and sunk knuckle deep. Not even when the pad of said finger brushed your g-spot before hooking onto the ridge, tugging gently in a way that would’ve caused blinding pleasure had you not grounded yourself with the pain of biting your tongue.

“There it is,” Steve’s voice was soft, finger carefully running the length of the ridge. "A nice deep one too.”

“How long have you been taking suppressants?” Bruce prodded quietly, coming to stand next to Sam. “I need to know what sort of damage we’re looking at.”

When you didn’t respond Sam sighed, fingers brushing gently over your chin as he directed you to face him. "Please don’t make us use an alpha command, sweetheart. We just wanna take care of you. Tell Bruce how long you’ve been on suppressants, please.”

You regarded the handsome alpha for several short moments before spitting a mouthful of blood directly into his face.

content warnings: assault, noncon vaginal fingering

edited 7/9/21 - still on hiatus

#avengers x reader #steve rogers x reader #thor x reader #bucky barnes x reader #sam wilson x reader #tony stark x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #clint barton x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!thor #dark!bucky barnes #dark!tony stark #dark!natasha romanoff #wow i give up its too many #posies chapter 1 #will reblog w tags in just a sec

2K notes · View notes

thebookreader12345 · 3 years

Text

Identity Loss - Chapter Three

Chapter One Chapter Two

It had been about a week since my apparent accident, and my memories still hadn’t come back, no matter how much I tried to get them to resurface. Will was trying to help me out too. Whenever he wasn’t working, he was doing things that we used to love, or ordering foods I used to enjoy. The hope was that maybe something would click a memory, but so far, nothing had worked.

I groaned as the alarm clock next to be beeped for the hundredth time, and reached over to turn it off for good. I had been trying to get some more sleep, but every ten minutes, the alarm would blare in my ear, jolting me out of my sleep. Since that obviously wasn’t working out, I guess it was time for me to get up. I sat up and stretched my arms above my head, enjoying the feeling of stretching my stiff limbs. I then pushed the blanket off of my body and climbed out of the bed, slipping on the slippers that were right next to me. Padding out to the living room, a yawn escaped my lips, and just as it did, the front door to the apartment opened, and Will stepped inside.

“Hey,” Will greeted and set him stuff down before scanning me up and down. When he saw that I was still in my pajamas, he frowned. “Did you just wake up?”

“Uh, yeah. Why?” I question and run a hand through my hair, which was probably a mess at the moment, but I didn’t care.

“Y/N, it’s time for lunch,” Will noted.

“I reckon I didn’t use to sleep in this late,” I guess and make my way to the kitchen to make some coffee.

“No. You were more of an early bird. Are those my slippers?” Will quizzed as he glanced down at my feet. I looked down at the house shoes covering my feet, and a slight blush tinted my cheeks as I noticed that I was indeed wearing Will’s slippers.

“Oh. Uh, sorry,” I confess.

Will smiled. “No worries. You uh, you actually used to do that quite a lot.”

I stopped making coffee to turn and look at him. “What are you saying? Is this a repressed memory coming back or something?”

Will shrugged. “No idea. But it’s a start.”

“So, what are you doing back so early? You’re supposed to be at work,” I point out.

“Ms. Goodwin let me take a half day. I’ve got a bunch of plans for us,” Will told me. “We’re gonna head downtown to see some of your favorite spots and then we’re going to-”

I cut Will off as a bit of anger swelled up inside of me. “What’s the point, Will? Ordering all of my favorite food didn’t work, and neither did doing all of my favorite activities, so this probably won’t either. Lets just face it. I’m never going to get my memories back.” I walked over to the couch and took a seat, pulling my knees up to my chest. Seconds later, Will did the same. He sat down on the cushion next to me and placed a comforting hand on my knee.

“Look, I know it may seem like you’re never going to remember anything. But trust me when I say that you will get your memories back. It may be today or next month, but it will happen. I’ve seen plenty of patients have similar accidents, and they’ve all come back, so I have hope that you’ll do the same. I just, I need you to have hope too,” Will explained.

I took a deep breath, and all at once, the anger seemed to leave my body. This situation felt very familiar; Will trying to calm me down just by using his words. The little moments like these made me feel connected to my past self, and in a way, they filled me with content.

“Okay,” I murmur. “What have you got planned for us today?”

...............................................

Stop One: Buckingham Fountain

I stared up at the fountain in front of me, contemplating why my former self liked to come here. The fountain was beautiful in a majestic kind of way, but the current me would never go out of my way to come here.

“What’s the point of this place?” I ask Will, who was standing beside me admiring the fountain.

“It’s a fountain,” Will stated as if it were obvious. “You make a wish and throw a coin into the water, hoping that it will come true.”

“And I used to believe in this?” I question.

“A little, yeah,” Will confessed. “We came here on our first date, and you threw a coin into the fountain, wishing that our relationship would keep growing and stay strong forever. And look where we are now. We’re supposed to be getting married in a few months.” Will then took a quarter out of his pocket and handed it to me. “Here. Make a wish. Maybe it’ll come true.”

I hesitantly took the coin from his hand, staring down at the dull metal disc in my palm. I closed my fingers around the quarter and shut my eyes, thinking about the wish I wanted to make. But it didn’t take me that long to come up with one. I wish I could remember my old life. And with that, I tossed the coin into the fountain, watching as it sank to the floor where it settled in with all of the other wishes.

Stop Two: The Bean

I’ll admit, the Bean was pretty cool. It was just a large sculpture of a bean, but the way it was covered in one big mirror was what made it special. I loved the way you could see Chicago’s many skyscrapers from the reflective sides of the figure, and I also enjoyed the way the light bounced off of the statue.

“Wow,” I breathe out. “This is amazing.”

“Yeah. The old you used to think so too. You always came here when you wanted to be alone. Whether it was because of a tough shift at work or because you needed to make a big decision, you’d be here,” Will told me.

“Why do I get the feeling I used to come here after we had a big fight?” I question and turn to face Will.

Will laughed softly. “Because you did. One day during shift, we had a heated argument over the course of treatment for a patient, and after work you came here. I gave you some alone time before I drove down here so we could talk things out. We eventually figured things out, but that was the moment I knew I never wanted to lose you.”

Stop Three: The Riverwalk

The Riverwalk was filled with families and tons of smiling faces. There were college kids sitting around studying, parents watching their children talk excitedly, and even couples strolling alongside the river. I glanced over at Will, who was walking next to me, and my eyes traveled down to his hand. All I could think about was what it would be like to hold his hand and lace our fingers together. My eyes also caught sight of the engagement ring sitting on my finger. I kept it on, hoping it would help me remember my past life, but it didn’t do much seeing as I still had no memories.

“It’s a shame I can’t remember any of these places,” I say. “It seems like we had some good memories in all of them.”

“One of the perks of living in Chicago; there’s always something to see or do,” Will noted. Again, my gaze shifted down to Will’s hand, and the desperation to take hold of it overpowered me, so I did it. I reached over and took his hand in mine, entwining our fingers. Will didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to in order for me to understand that he didn’t mind. He didn’t pull his hand away, and he gave my hand a small squeeze, so we kept our hands locked together as we walked.

Stop Four: Lakefront Trail

“Here we are. The last stop,” Will announced as he parked the car. I climbed out of the passenger seat and took in the lake in front of us. The trail in front of us wasn’t as crowded as the Riverwalk, but every few seconds, someone either jogged by, walked along, or rode past on a bicycle. From where we were on the trail, the Chicago skyline stood in the distance, it’s tall buildings jutting into the bright sky. That’s when I recognized where we were. This was the Lakefront Trail, the same place where the engagement photo back at the apartment was taken.

“You recognize this?” Will asked me.

I nodded. “Yeah, but not from a memory. This is where that engagement photo in the living room was taken.”

“You actually picked out the destination,” Will spoke. “I wanted to do it on the beach, but you convinced me that this was a better spot.” For a few moments, the two of us stared at the horizon in silence, admiring the view. Finally though, I spoke up.

“Can I ask you something?” I question.

“Sure,” Will replied. “What’s up?”

“What happens if I don’t get my memories back?” I quiz.

“Y/N,” Will started, only for me to interrupt him.

“I’m serious, Will. Be honest with me here,” I plead. “What’s gonna happen to my career if I can’t remember anything? What’s gonna happen to us?”

Will sighed and kept his gaze trained at the lake in front of us. “I uh, I don’t know. I would love for you to get your memories back so that things could go back to the way they were before. And if that doesn’t happen, I guess you’ll have to start all over again. You know, figure out what you want to do. I don’t want to say this, but if that means we have to split up because you don’t want to be with me anymore, then so be it. I’m not going to force you to stay with me, and I’m definitely not going to force you to go back to Med if you don’t want to.”

“It’s funny that you bring that up. I remember everything I learned in med school to be a doctor. I could diagnose a patient right now if I wanted to, and I guarantee you that my diagnosis would be spot on. I don’t know why I can remember all sorts of illnesses and diseases, but not remember my life the way it was before, and that annoys me. All I want is for things just to go back to normal,” I let out.

“Yeah. Me too,” Will murmured. For a few more minutes the two of us stayed and took in the view, but Will soon turned his eyes away from the setting sun. “You ready to head back to the apartment?”

“Actually, there’s one more thing I want to do,” I declare and lean up, pressing my lips to his. All day, the one thing I wanted more than anything was to kiss Will and relish the way his lips feel against my own. And now, here I was doing just that. I cupped Will’s cheeks in my hands as he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer to his chest. One moment, I couldn’t remember anything, and the next, a rush of memories flooded my brain.

I remember Will and I’s first date at Buckingham Fountain, and the kiss we shared when he dropped me back off at my apartment. I remember staring at the Bean, hoping that it would help me figure out how to go home and face Will after we had an argument. I remember the countless walks Will and I shared on the Riverwalk. I remember taking the engagement photo here on the Lakefront Trail. And there were many more memories popping up in my head as well. Natalie, Maggie, and I drinking wine at on the couch in Nat’s house. Me helping Connor diagnose a cardio patient whose symptoms didn’t seem to fit any illness. April and I chatting away at the nurses’ station about our love lives. Will proposing to me in the lobby of Chicago Med. And I remembered my accident, the day my life went to hell.

“Y/N? You okay?” Will asked when he noticed that I had pulled away from him.

“Will, I remember. I remember everything,” I state. Will grinned widely and picked me up, spinning me around. When he placed me back on the ground, he swooped in and kissed me again, this time more passionately.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” Will mumbled and leaned his forehead against mine. “I told you this would work.”

“Oh shut up,” I joke. “Mind if we head back to the apartment now? I’m kind of tired after today. Getting all of my memories back really wore me out.”

“Yeah. Of course. Lets go. There are so many things I want to you with you right now, but I think I can manage to hold them off until later. Lets go,” Will said and laced his hand with mine before leading me back to his car.

The Next Day...

“Will, the cafeteria is that way,” I point out as Will led me down a hallway towards the ED. I hadn’t eaten breakfast this morning, so I was pretty hungry at the moment.

“I know, but there’s something I’ve got to show you first. Come on,” Will ordered lightly. I continued following Will, and he led me all the way to the residents’ lounge, inside of which were all of my friends and co-workers.

“Welcome back Y/N!” they all shouted as Will and I entered the room.

I smiled at all of the people in front of me and turned to Will. “Did you do this?”

Will shook his head. “As much as I would love to take credit for all of this, it was Natalie and Maggie’s idea.”

“Well, I guess I should go and thank them. And say hello to everyone else,” I add. “But I will come find you later. I believe the day of my accident, we were interrupted just before we were about to do something. I’d very much love to continue that.”

“I couldn’t agree more. Now go and talk to everyone else. You’ve spent enough time with me,” Will exclaimed.

“Okay,” I mutter and lean up to place a quick peck on his lips. “I love you.”

Will grinned. “I love you too. Always have, always will.”

THE END

..........................................

And that’s the end of the story! I hope you all enjoyed it. I know I certainly did. Comment down below your favorite chapter out of the three, and also tell me your favorite part of the story. Thanks for reading!

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