#can we count this as a crack fic too
Text
Triforce of Mischief
Summary: Chain sees that you have a particular tattoo and chaos is the only reaction they have, since language barrier is definitely a thing. Time & Twilight freak out. Wind could have spoken sooner.
1.8k words
Read on Ao3
Since this can also be read as a stand alone story, I didn’t include Hylian, or the dialects of the Chain. If you are interested in that, feel free to visit the main story that can serve as a prequel to this short! (Not edited)
Following your departure from the Ordon Spring alongside the other boys, you journeyed toward the Ordon Village. Most of their conversation still didn’t make much sense to you, but at least you learnt a few words here and there on the way, especially from the Smith and the Sailor.
The midday weather was brisk, even though the sun shone at its peak. You had a similar attire with your travel companions, a relatively long sleeved tunic that sometimes revealed your wrists if you were to raise your arms. Yours had wider arm-cuts, but felt like they weren’t thick enough for this kind of weather. A slight shiver ran through you, which Link fortunately noticed. He paused and offered you his signature cloak, to which you politely refused multiple times (at least you motioned it somehow). His attempt to offer warmth made the fangirl within you scream in delight, but you kept declining. You blushed slightly and finally accepted even though you knew you weren’t that far from your destination, wrapping yourself in the warmth it provided.
You thanked the Golden Three that you had been on hikes with him on Mt. Lanayru regularly before your involvement with the other Links; otherwise, you did not think you could survive all this hiking. Thinking about having to climb the ladder to the Rancher’s treehouse already made your legs wobble.
Though you could swear that the Ordon Spring waters calmed your nerves and eased your inner storm for a little bit.
Luckily, you were almost there. The wooden arch that said… something in Hylian (probably ORDON?) took your attention. Oh you were so excited…
[And that’s me,] the Rancher spoke as he pointed towards his treehouse. This was really like the game, nestled in a secluded corner near the entrance of the village. You didn’t understand a word he said, but you could see near the tree there was a brown mare simply grazing around.
And what a sight she was. You couldn’t help yourself as you whispered “Epona…?” to yourself and walked towards her as if you were in a trance.
Of course, you didn’t notice the Old Man raising his eyebrow or the Rancher also hearing you. You stopped in your tracks, then watched the Rancher go towards the horse instead, petting it and saying something to it. He made eye contact with you as he was caressing her nose, and motioned you to come over, you guessed.
“May I?” you asked, and even though the language barrier was still present, the Rancher gave a warm, friendly nod. As you approached Epona, her deep, soulful eyes locked onto yours, and it felt as if she understood the reverence in your gaze. With a gentle, careful touch, you began to run your hand along her sleek, chestnut mane, marveling at the silky texture beneath your fingers.
[Epona] he said, as he gave an apple to her. You just smiled, pretending to hear it for the first time and repeated her name.
Epona seemed to appreciate the affection, and she leaned into your touch, her powerful frame radiating warmth and serenity.
As you continued to pet Epona, your sleeves slipped down to your wrists, revealing a set of three small triangles on your skin. The right one was filled in with black. The Rancher and the Old Man both noticed this mark, and although they didn't say anything, they exchanged knowing glances.
When everybody finally settled in Twilight’s cabin, he lit the fireplace. His cabin had an air of rustic charm, filled with a cozy warmth that welcomed all who entered. The walls were made of weathered wood, lending the space a natural, earthy ambiance. The cabin had lanterns that hung from sturdy wooden beams overhead, which you imagined would cast quite the gentle radiance, once lit.
The Chain kept talking between each other, though you didn’t understand much. Wind was all the way up, lost in his world. For some reason, really interested in Rancher's books.
You took off the cape Wild lent you and gave it back to him, since it started getting quite warm inside. You already had another layer under your long sleeved tunic, so you took the upper layer off as well, now sitting with the others (you secured yourself a chair at least) in a short sleeved shirt. Time and Twilight were still casting glances at you.
“What?” you stretched as you pointed the pointless question towards them. Not that it would change anything…You saw that Sky also managed to get a chair, and he was already kind of looking like he was about to doze off. Maybe you should have followed suit…
[Champion, you are sure Y/N does not have anything to do with the Hero’s Spirit or any sages?] Time asked Wild. He seemed quite perplexed by the question.
[Or is she part of the royal family perhaps?] Twilight continued.
[Uh, no? Why?] Wild replied.
You just closed your eyes as you listened to them speak. It felt like listening to an audiobook in a language you didn’t understand, as a sleeping aid. Though you had a strange feeling that they were talking about you.
Legend and Hyrule were definitely listening in, though the former pretended as if he couldn’t care less, even though his ears definitely perked up at the mention of the royal family.
[You mean the mark on her wrist?] Sky chimed in instead, to your surprise. The others seemed surprised that he was way more perceptive than he looked.
[What mark?] Four asked and then Time & Twilight explained the mark they have seen on your wrist.
The volume of the chatter was increasing, slightly annoying you. Wild gently poked your shoulder to see if you were awake, and you opened your eyes. There was no way you could sleep in this noisy environment.
He pointed at your left wrist, gently touching your arm after checking in with you, and motioning you to raise it. The whole room was staring at your Triforce of Courage ink now.
Oh, right…
“Guys, it’s just a tattoo,” you tried to explain to no avail.
It is hard to explain things when people literally don’t understand a word you say.
You could see Time & Twilight & Legend & Warriors and Sky comparing their faded Triforce marks on their hands, and Wild & Four looking confused about the whole thing.
[I mean, I did say I sense some residual magic on her, but that’s definitely not what I was sensing,] Hyrule was saying as he glanced at your tattoo.
[Members of the royal family don’t randomly get the mark of Triforce on their wrists, not unless they are Zelda at least,] Legend scoffed. Wind seemed to be not paying attention, still busy with Twilight's books upstairs for some reason.
[Well this is certainly odd, I never thought much about the mark, though we had other matters to attend to… But… What is Triforce?] Wild kept questioning, though he seemed to have forgotten that he was still touching your shoulder from the side. You sighed. It was fun at first, but now it was getting quite boring that you didn’t understand anything. Though it wasn’t that hard to guess…
[Yeah I was about to ask the same thing… I just thought that’s the symbol of the royal family or something?] Four added, making the rest of the group look at them in disbelief. Sky seemed especially distraught.
The bickering continued for a while, and you kept thinking about how to explain this to them. Weren’t these people familiar with the concept of a tattoo? Of course, why you had something like that was another matter, but excuse you for wanting to get a Zelda-themed tattoo and considering the fact that you might end up in Hyrule?
Hmmm, what if I just show them something similar instead, to try to explain?
You sighed, stood up and walked towards Time and Twilight, while the group's curious glances still loomed over you. Right, these two already had some markings that were like tattoos, so you thought it would at least be a good parallel.
Right after you pointed at your tattoo, you pointed towards the Rancher's face first, specifically to his markings. He had a confused look on his face, which quickly became an expression of horror, which seemed to have spread to some others in the group.
Wait…
[Farore above…]
What in Hylia's name was going on? That sounded grim, along with some others.
Next, you moved to Time, who was already sitting next to him. You mumbled a quick "Sorry…" for invading his personal space as you blushed, hoping he didn't mind. He was as stoic as one could get, you hoped he wouldn't somehow grab your wrist or something.
You also pointed (almost touched, really) to his marks on his face, before you pulled back and pointed towards your tattoo again.
"It's just a tattoo, why do you all look so judgemental suddenly?" You almost screamed in protest. You tried to make the motion of drawing the shape by yourself. Even tried pretending as if you have a nail and a hammer, and as if you are drawing on a skin.
I don't think tattoo pens exist here…
Time's eyes widened. The atmosphere in the room was even worse.
[How…?!] he said in shock.
You realized a little bit too late that it wasn't the smartest decision to point at his Wolf markings and Time's Fierce Deity Mask markings and then to yourself.
Because Twilight and Time kept speaking with each other, with Legend and Hyrule chiming in, the others watching you suddenly with suspicion, with Wild going between you and the others almost in a defensive stance. It was getting heated. Oh Gods…
Meanwhile, the Sailor finally decided to come down with a huge grin on his face, earning even more scornful looks from the others.
Then he started laughing.
Little rascal.
He knew.
He knew yet he did not step in until the last minute, pretending to browse the books and maps up there instead.
You sighed almost in relief as you watched him try to explain things to others. At least, you assumed.
It was quite clear that these were the heroes who held the Triforce of Courage, and not Wisdom.
How could anybody not think of tattoos and just jump to the worst conclusions instead?!
But you were sure, the Sailor was especially deserving of the Triforce of Courage, since he dared to wait until the last moment instead of coming clean right away.
____________________________
It was only months later you found out what was said, and that there was an agreement to never ever mention the incident again.
"I knew what it was right away," Wind smirked at you, after he explained what happened on that day. "We have a few people in the crew with some sick ink!"
Sure, you understood that there was some residual magic they sensed on you.
But… Was it really your fault that they immediately thought you could both be associated with twilight magic and Fierce Deity at the same time? Come on, even for this universe, it sounded cuccos.
"Having that symbol tattooed is quite a choice though," Four gave you side eyes.
You just shrugged.
Wind could have interfered earlier.
Little shit. If it existed, he would have gotten the Triforce of Mischief instead.
Back to Masterlist / Back to the Power of Understanding
#linked universe x reader#linked universe#lu four#lu wind#the chain#the power of understanding shorts#the power of understanding#linked universe au#fanfic#reader insert#triforce of courage#triforce of mischief#chain reacts to tattoo#lu time#lu tw#time panics#raw fic#rawfic#zelda tattoo#can we count this as a crack fic too#tpo#tpos
223 notes
·
View notes
Text
kiss cam surprise - gojo satoru
word count: 2.8k
warnings: none! :)
summary: when (y/n) kisses shoko during a kiss cam at a baseball game, satoru gets a little ~jealous~ this is half fluff half crack tbh lol
a/n: ok i don't take fic requests but someone dropped this in my ask box awhile ago and it resurfaced in my mind so... ur a lucky duck. also! if u like kiss cam fics y'all should check out kiss cam! by @naosaki <3 one of my fav megumi fics <3
___
For being at an event that they couldn’t care less about, Shoko and (y/n) had been on their best behavior for the entirety of the baseball game. Satoru and Suguru had been so excited to gift the tickets to the girls so they could join them in a fun outing, that they’d tried their best to accept the offer graciously.
Even though neither of them had any interest in going. It was obvious when the tickets were presented to them, from the awkward smiles they’d worn to the way their eyes shifted towards one another as if to make sure the other was thinking the same thing- why wouldn’t they just go on their own?
Shoko and (y/n) would’ve happily spent the day doing their own thing had Satoru and Suguru gone to the game just the two of them. Maybe some light shopping, or maybe they’d hole up in one of their rooms and eat junk and watch romcoms all day. Either way… any activity would have been more entertaining to them than this.
They barely even knew the rules of the game, only cheering when the guys did, and sharing knowing looks when they tried not to laugh at just how uninterested they were.
Still, they did their best to participate. Both glad in the same colors of the cheap merch Satoru and Suguru had treated them to. (y/n) was in a jersey too big for her that hung off her body awkwardly, and Shoko wore a hat with a bill that wouldn’t stop dipping over her eyes, but they didn’t complain. They were very good sports for their friends, only sneaking off for a smoke break one time. They even made a few trips for snacks and drinks so that Suguru and Satoru wouldn’t miss any of the games. Sure, maybe they were trying to stretch their legs and ease the ache in their butts from the uncomfortable plastic seats, but they had the right intentions!
“This is fun, right?”
When (y/n) turned to him, Satoru was beaming from ear to ear. His sunglasses were slipping down his nose due to the way his ball cap bumped into them, and his bright eyes seemed to hold even more light from his obvious joy.
She couldn’t lie to him if she wanted to. It was too cute to see him this excited just from sharing the experience with his friends. He’d had his arm draped over the back of her seat for the majority of the game, and whenever his team got the upper hand, he’d eagerly tap or shake at her shoulder to involve her in the hype. (y/n) was grateful for the que to pay closer attention to what was happening, but she did fluster and blush every time he’d touch her.
This didn’t go unnoticed by Shoko, who would knowingly knock her elbow from her other side, a small smirk on her face when (y/n) would peek at her from the corner of her eye. She tried to ignore the silent teasing, but after a while it got hard with how much it was happening.
With a smile and a nod of her head, Satoru’s expression lit up even more. “Yeah, I’m actually having a really great time,” She said. It didn’t matter that she was more interested in all the attention he’d been giving her than the great seats they had for the game. He didn’t need to know that part. “We should do this more often” She adds before thinking.
Once again, Shoko’s elbow was bumping into hers, and this time a less-than-discreet snort could be heard. (y/n) sent her elbow back into hers in retaliation, silently scolding her for eavesdropping.
“Yeah?” Satoru fixes his cap so that he can push his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Tickets weren’t that expensive, we could go to more games this season, if you want?” He suggests.
Bullshit, she thinks with a smile telling him that’s exactly what she was thinking. Nothing was expensive to the Gojo Satoru.
“Yeah, maybe” She says without much commitment.
Going to baseball games just the two of them? The idea had her heart soaring. Having to sit through a game that could take more than three hours was less than ideal.
Soon enough a break in the game came, the announcers hyping up the crowd with some silly chants and trivia on the big screen. (y/n) found herself slumping down into her seat, aimlessly tapping around on her phone to pass the time. She hadn’t been paying enough attention to notice the change in game on the big screen, that is until there was a hand smacking at her shoulder again.
Looking up, she’d almost expected to see the game in motion again. Satoru had only been tapping at her like that when an exciting play was in action. However this time, he’s pointing up at the screen.
She gapes when she sees that she’s displayed on the screen. The camera has a wide angle that includes Shoko and Satoru on either side of her, the words Kiss Cam spelled out in pink cursive above them. It’s complete with lipstick stains and sparkles for dramatic touch.
“Oh my god” She mumbles, hoping that her blush is undetectable by the camera, seeing as her face felt scorching hot from embarrassment.
The longer the camera is focused on her, the rowdier the crowd around her becomes. Eagerly chanting ‘Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!’ like a bunch of teenagers at their first house party.
Satoru is grinning so hard his face hurts. This was like a dream come true. The easiest excuse in all of history to get a kiss from the girl he’s had a crush on since he was fifteen was just presented to him on a silver platter- and the crowd’s cheering only spurred him on further.
Even Suguru is giving him a smirk and a nod of approval. He’d heard more earfuls than most about the ins and outs of Satoru’s feelings for (y/n). Although on occasion, Shoko or Nanami were on the receiving end of his lovesick rambling.
His heart is about to burst out of his chest when he turns to (y/n). His smile is starting to hurt and for a second he realizes he’s going to have to relax to actually kiss her.
“Are you okay with-?”
The question barely comes out before he’s cut short.
(y/n) had already turned away from him, swiveled in her seat to face Shoko. It’s like he’s watching it happen in slow motion.
They both giggle at their idea, and (y/n) takes off Shoko’s hat while she’s quickly tucking her hair behind her ears to clear her face. And then time goes back to normal and all too quickly, Satoru watches as they lean towards each other to share a kiss.
It’s just a peck, so swift and chaste it’s over as soon as it happens. The crowd hollers and then are just as quickly getting excited over the next unsuspecting pair on camera.
(y/n) and Shoko laugh a bit more before sitting back in their seats, going back to their phones and striking up conversation about some anime they’d been interested in. Both, or at least (y/n), completely oblivious to the offended gape on Satoru’s face.
That was totally his kiss, after all! It was his perfect moment to finally take things to the next level with his long time friend that he’d harbored a crush on.
To make matters worse, Shoko wasn’t as innocent as she was pretending to be, sending a smirk his way when (y/n) was too focused on her phone. He scowled back at her. She knew about his crush! She knew he was going to go for that kiss!
With a huff, he stood up from his seat and made his way out of the stands. He needed a bottle of water, or a snack, or just some damn space away from his so-called friend that was teasing him for snatching his kiss.
Satoru leaving so suddenly finally perked (y/n’s) attention. He was gone too fast for her to call after him, but she worriedly watched him scale the steps with ease as he headed towards the hall of vendors. She locked eyes with Satoru, raising a brow in silent question.
“He’s just being pouty,” Suguru replied casually, shrugging his shoulders before turning back towards the field. “You wanna go after him? Be my guest”
(y/n) sighed, turning the other direction towards Shoko.
“What’s he so pressed about?” She mutters. “What even happened?”
Shoko rolls her eyes, a lazy grin stretching on her lips.
“I dunno,” She says in a teasingly melodic tone of voice, suggesting she knew exactly what set their friend off. “Maybe pluck up some courage and go ask him?”
With another sigh of defeat, (y/n) slumped back into her seat, her thumbnail wedged between her teeth as she mulled over the idea. A nervous flutter settled in her chest, a persistent buzz of confusion and anxiety distracting her even more so from the game starting up again.
When she suddenly shot out of her seat, muttering some excuse about needing to stretch her legs before she raced up the stairs in the direction she’d seen Satoru head off towards.
Two sets of eyes watched her as she hurried off. Suguru and Shoko locked eyes once she was out of sight, both of them snickering between themselves. It didn’t exactly take an active imagination to know exactly what was coming next.
To her surprise, (y/n) found Satoru as soon as she left the stands. Moping around the upper part of the arena with a half-empty bag of cotton candy. She couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, effectively getting herself caught by him.
“Why’re you up here eating your feelings?” (y/n) speaks first, eyes narrowed inquisitively. Satoru scoffs as she approaches him, snatching a piece of the pink sweet right out of his hands.
“I’m not eating my feelings” He replies unconvincingly, digging the hole deeper as he shoves a rather large piece of cotton candy into his mouth.
(y/n) rolls her eyes, but the smile on her face is impossible to hide.
“Sure,” She remarks. “You’re totally not pouting right now. C’mon just fess up. What’s wrong?”
“I’m not pouting. My friend betrayed me, I think I’m right in being upset about that?” It’s a rhetorical question, followed by another shove of cotton candy into his mouth.
(y/n) frowns.
“Betrayed you?” She repeats. “Did I miss something? Who betrayed you?”
Satoru groaned, tossing the remainder of his cotton candy into the trash dramatically. (y/n) had to resist the urge to laugh, not understanding where this whole little tantrum came from.
“Shoko! Obviously! I mean she knew that that kiss was-!”
He stops mid sentence, realizing where this outburst was going to lead him if he didn’t relax and go back to his usual suave demeanor. (y/n) shook her head in confusion, her brows pinching together.
“Was what?” She asked, a breathless laugh escaping her. “Meaningless? A joke between friends?” She suggested. “You’re mad about a kiss?”
“Of course I’m mad-! Well, I- I guess not mad, I’m not mad at her,” He stammered over his words, not knowing how exactly to explain the complicated feelings.
(y/n) tried to be patient while he stammered and struggled to make himself clear. Mostly because she was partially amused by the whole thing. Satoru prided himself in being what he called a smooth-talker, and while normally she’d laugh at him for that, it was a shock to see him behave the total opposite right in front of her.
“But that wasn’t exactly fair, I mean, she was just trying to rile me up. And- like- yeah, that’s what we usually do, we pick on each other but that just- that just wasn’t fair! That was my kiss and she knew it! And she just-”
“What do you mean ‘your kiss’?”
Finally Satoru had been rendered speechless, his mouth still hanging open mid rant, jaw slacking a bit as he realized he’d gotten carried away. (y/n’s) expression almost mirrors his, her eyes wide and lips parted, even as she holds her breath and waits for him to clarify.
But he’s completely frozen in front of her.
“Satoru,” She waves her hand in front of his face, trying to bring him back to reality. “What did you mean ‘your kiss’?” She repeats, shaking her head at him.
“I- I just… I meant that-”
Words are spilling out of his mouth without direction, without knowing what the hell the right thing to say was. He’d known (y/n) for two years now, and in all of that time he’d been pretty proud of the persona he’d built up to be sure that he was always the cool one, the guy she could rely on to be smooth and popular. He felt pathetic now, letting his own secrets slip and stuttering over himself like an idiot.
The corners of (y/n’s) lips twitched into a smile the longer he flustered over who-knows-what. It catches his attention when she unintentionally lets out a little laugh.
“Sorry,” She apologizes right away. “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you. I just… are you trying to say that you wanted me to kiss you? For the cam game?”
She tries not to sound so hopeful that it comes across desperate, but the mere idea that Satoru had wanted a kiss from her had her chest thrumming with butterflies.
Satoru’s throat feels dry, and suddenly her gaze feels like a spotlight. The intensity has the hair on the back of his neck standing up. He pulls the hat off his head to run a hand through his hair to relieve the heat.
“Well… yeah,” He admits, sounding more bashful than she ever would have thought he was capable of. Her small smile turned a little brighter, and he tried to get his voice back. “Not that I need a silly game to kiss you, obviously-”
“Obviously” She repeats the word fondly, giving him a small nod.
“But- s-still, the kiss cam, would’ve been… fun” He admits sheepishly. She giggles, nodding her head again.
“Well, it was fun, for the record,” She teases, earning a roll of his eyes from behind his shades. She steps closer to him then, a tilt in her head as she takes in the obvious nerves written on his face. “But if you wanted to kiss me, you could’ve just asked”
“I was going to,” He argued, his hands moving about erratically. “It's not my fault Shoko beat me to it!”
She giggled at his drama, reaching out and grabbing his hands as they flew around, still laughing as he froze up again from the sudden touch.
“You know, it didn’t exactly mean anything when Shoko did it,” She suggested. “I know there’s not any cameras… but…”
Satoru raised a brow.
“(y/l/n) (y/n),” He gasped dramatically, “Are you asking me to kiss you?”
Her cheeks tint pink as she bites back her smile, giving him a small nod of her head. He smiles back at her, pulling his hands out of hers and dropping his hat so he could lay them across her jaw, tilting her head upwards so he didn’t have to lean down as far to reach her.
She doesn’t wait a second longer for him, closing her eyes and leaning up on the tips of her toes so she could press her lips against his. Satoru’s quick to reciprocate, his fingers flexing against her skin, holding on as tight as he can without hurting her as he deepens the kiss right away. She has to grab him by the shoulders to keep herself balanced.
His lips are soft, and taste sugary like the cotton candy he’d been eating. She’d always thought he’d taste a little bit like sugar, what with how much of it he consumes. It makes her smile to know first hand.
When they break the kiss, he steals one more quick peck from her, grinning with excitement before he pulls away so he can pick up his forgotten hat from the ground.
“Feel better now?” She teases as he slings his arm around her shoulder to head back towards their seats.
“Mhm,” He hums, pulling his cap over her head and smiling as it slips down her forehead. He pokes it upwards with his index finger, then pokes the tip of her nose. “But next game I bring you to, I get the kiss cam kiss, alright?”
There’s a gleam in her eye and a blush on her face as she leans into him, matching his steps as they head down the stairs to their seats. As shameless as ever, she can’t help but tease him.
“Then sit on my left next time”
___
xoxo ~ jordie
#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru imagine#satoru x reader#gojo x reader#satoru brainrpt#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo imagine#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk imagine#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen imagine#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru x reader fluff#gojo satoru friends to lovers
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
No One Fucks With My Baby
pairing: fem!reader x dbf!joel miller (based on established back story from my oneshot Who We Are)
description: everyone now knows that you are joel's girl. when you're working a busy night at the bison, a newbie stirs up a bit of trouble. joel handles it the only way he knows how and you thank him the only way you know how.
word count: 3.8k
warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, age gap (reader is in her 30s, joel is in his mid 50s), i don't describe the reader all that much, consumption of alcohol, drunk old men who harass reader, joel fucks them up, mentions of blood, glass breaking (?), voyeurism, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, pet names
author's note: this fic is dedicated to the birthday girl @ilovepedro !!! happy birthday sweet nini, I love you so much! thank you for helping me edit this, but more importantly, thank you for being a wonderful friend. you make the world a better place. love you always <3
after the amazing love I got on "Who We Are", I decided to add to the universe. let me know if y'all want more! xoxo, gracie
“Didn’t know they made jeans that low cut!”
You were used to stupid comments made towards you by drunk men. But now that Joel has made it known, you are his, a lot of the men in Jackson kept their advances to themselves. The gentleman at the end of the bar must not know that your big ole’ scary boyfriend was positioned in a booth with Tommy and your father across the room. His eyes had been locked on you for most of the night, and every time he and the guys needed more drinks, he’d be the one to grab more.
You turn to the drunk man, who had to be your father’s age. He’s practically drooling at the sight of your ass in your favorite jeans. The summer air was not a good combination to a normally humid bar, so you had been wearing less and less clothes behind the bar. You were sporting the jeans and a tighter tank top than usual, mainly because you knew Joel would be around and you loved driving him wild when the shirt rode up on you.
“You’re gonna catch flies if you don’t close your mouth,” You joke, pouring whiskey for another patron, “Don’t think you’d like the way that would taste.”
The man slams down his glass which causes a couple people to look down at him. You don’t even glance in his direction, knowing if he’s mad, he can take it up with every man in the Tipsy Bison.
“I don’t take too kindly to sarcastic little sluts.”
Your heart stops. You calmly place the whiskey bottle down beside the shot glass you were pouring into and glance towards the red faced prick. You hear the conversations subside around the room while you lock eyes with the guy who’s bold enough to talk shit to you.
You know Joel’s already standing up from his spot at his booth, but you move quicker. You position yourself in front of him, leaning over the bar, your eyes raking down the pathetic boy in front of you.
“Pardon?”
He swallows, realizing how quiet his surroundings got. “I s-said I don’t take kindly to sarcasm.”
You click your tongue, a newfound confidence surging through your body, “I don’t think that’s all you said. Somethin’ about me being a slut?”
“Listen, girl-”
His boots are loud against the hardwood as he approaches you and the man. He stands scarily close to the barstool where the man sits. You don’t break eye contact though, wanting to handle this situation yourself.
“It’s ma’am, to you,” You cut him off, “I think it’s best if you leave.”
“I haven’t finished my drin-”
Joel reaches around the guy and grabs the whiskey glass from in front of him and slams it on the floor. The guy immediately starts to tremble, shaking like a little leaf. You crack a smile before whispering one final thing to him.
“Think you’re finished, buddy,” You flick your eyes up at Joel, who’s fury is written all over his face, “Mind walkin’ him out, baby?”
Joel grabs onto the guys shoulder with a bruising grip, “Would be my pleasure, sweetheart.”
He rips the guy from the stool, not even making sure the guy finds his footing. You ignore the shuffle outside and return to your pouring. You feel like your heart may beat out of your chest, but you’re relieved it was handled before Joel got even more handsy with him. You grab the shot glass and hand it to the fellow that was sat by the drunken fool.
“You got Miller wrapped around your finger,” The guy, who’s name you think is Aaron, says. He was a regular and frequently stopped Joel to talk about morning patrols. You smirk before snatching a rag off your shoulder.
“Yeah, he’s so wrapped around my finger that he’s gonna clean up all that broken glass.” You joke, wiping down the condensation ring the glasses left on the wooden table top.
You hear some footsteps approaching and when you look up it’s Tommy. He’s shaking his head, a grin playing on his lips.
“Where’s the broom? Joel seems busy putting that guy in his place.”
You furrow your brows as you reach for the broom, “What do you mean?”
“I just sent your Dad out there because it sounded like some rustlin’,” Tommy explains, grabbing the stick from you to begin sweeping up the shards, “I’m sure they are handlin’ it.”
Before you can get nervous, you hear the front door swing open quickly. Your Dad and Joel walk in and you can tell Joel is pissed and a bit rattled. You navigate your way around the bar and glass, reaching their booth as soon as Joel sits down. He’s cradling his right hand in his left, hissing in discomfort.
“What did you do?” You say, reaching out for his hands. There’s two gashes that litter his knuckles, only bleeding slightly. You shake your head when he pulls away from you.
“Nothin’ baby,” he mumbles, “Just taught the guy it’s not nice to talk to ladies like he did. He walked off with a bloody nose and busted lip when he started talkin’ shit back.”
You roll your eyes, catching your Dad’s glare.
“Did you break it up?” You press, wanting more of an explanation.
He shakes his head, “Nope. Joel can handle himself. I did tell the guy when he was walking away that if he talked about my daughter like that again, he’d wouldn’t be able to walk away cause he would have a bullet between his eyes.”
You roll your eyes, crossing your arms under your chest. “I swear to God…”
Tommy approaches the table, his task of cleaning glass finished. He places a gentle hand on your shoulder, “You okay?”
“I’d be better if the men in my life weren’t insane,” You joke, nudging Joel’s arm as he inspects his knuckles.
Tommy laughs and sits back down across from your Dad and Joel. While he makes jokes with your Dad, Joel is silent and stirred. You can tell he’s bothered by something more than handling some asshole who called you a name. You decide against pestering him more, allowing him to settle back into conversation with Tommy and your Dad.
You give him a quick peck on the cheek and return to slinging drinks.
-
“Thanks for staying while I lock up,” You say to Joel as pushing in the last barstool, “And thanks for earlier.”
He is propped up on one of the middle pillars, his shoulder resting on the wood while his arms and legs are crossed. He was still being quiet, not giving into conversation. You approach him, your eyes trained on his arms. He was wearing a t-shirt for the first time all summer, which made you feel some type of way. His arms were tanned beautifully and toned. His biceps were perfectly outlined by the thin fabric of the gray t-shirt.
“Anythin’ for you, sweetheart.”
You glance up at him, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “Tell me what’s got you all bothered.”
“It’s nothin’,” He uncrosses his arms and reaches out for you. You know it’s not nothing, so you wrap your arms around his waist and pull him forward. He looks a bit surprised.
“It’s somethin’, so you better tell me what happened.”
He huffs, fanning your face with his breath, “That asshole said some shit about us and it set me off.”
You squeeze him a bit, “What did he say?”
You can tell he does not want to repeat it, but you were not going to let it go.
“How I’m an old man with a young girl. How I’m old enough to be your dad.”
You feel sick to your stomach at the idea he had to hear some asshole say that. You look down between you, shifting your weight onto your other foot. You started to feel clammy, unsure of a good response that would reassure Joel.
“He’s just some asshole. What does he know?” You manage to sputter.
Joel’s shoulder’s sag, “He’s not wrong, though, baby girl. I’m an old man with a younger girl.”
You push away from him, scanning him up and down. You are pissed that he’s even bringing this up again, after all this time.
“I’m a grown ass woman, Joel. A grown ass woman with a grown ass man. Just because there’s time in between us doesn’t mean we aren’t old enough to make decisions for ourselves.”
His lip curls, “I know baby, I am just saying that sometimes we get odd looks cause of the age difference. I really don’t care anymore… Just caught me off guard, is all.”
You fold your arms, “You put him in his place, right? He’s not gonna come around here sayin’ shit again?”
“He’d be stupid to come near you again. Think I got my point across.”
You feel like you owe him something. You had a couple ways you could repay him, ensuring that he never thinks about those stupid comments again.
You use your arms to press up your bra a bit, your cleavage more highlighted with the gesture. Joel’s eyes trail down, the scoop neck giving away your suggestive movement. You step closer again, wanting to be in his space.
“My man…” You trail, your eyes falling to his agape mouth, “Makin’ sure everyone knows I’m his.”
He nods slowly before his hand creeps around your waist, “What are you tryin’ to do, girl?”
“Nothin’,” you click your tongue. “Just thinkin’ of how I could repay you for handlin’ that for me. You hurt yourself defending my honor. I owe you.”
“Don’t think of it that way. You don’t owe me anything,” His fingers start to creep down to the curve of your ass. “But, I would love to see what you had in mind.”
“Oh, you would,” You hum, your arms unfolding to wrap around his neck. “Let’s start by walking back to your house.”
Instead of responding, he dips his head and peppers kisses down your neck, taking his time letting his fingers wander around the skin on your lower back and hips. Your skin feels like it’s on fire with every press of his lips.
“Fuck,” You sigh as you try to bring him closer to you, but he’s not letting up on your neck. He’s suckling spots near your collarbone, groaning as you react to his every move. You knew at this point, this whole situation was in his hands and not yours.
He lifts his head slowly, letting his bottom lip drag across your skin, “How ‘bout this… How ‘bout I take you right here over this bar? Maybe that asshole is nearby and he can hear how well I give it to ya.”
His proposition sends you into a spiral. You and Joel have had plenty of sex in different places, but the bar? And he wants others to hear? Usually he’s telling you that your moans are for his ears only, and while he wants you to be loud for him, you’re usually too timid to actually vocalize your pleasure.
You place your hands on his expansive chest, “You want to fuck me here?”
He beams down at your question before he whispers, “I want to fuck you everywhere. Here, your bed, my couch, the shower. Hell, I’ll take you at this bar while people watch.”
“Jesus, Joel,” You huff, almost dizzy from the statement.
He brings his hand up to tilt your head back so you look at him. When your eyes meet, he brings the hand up around your neck and to the nape, right where your spine starts.
“God, I need you, sweet girl.”
You roll your eyes, but before you can speak, Joel brings you in for a passionate and eager kiss. He’s feverish, his hands now wandering down to your ass. He starts to walk you backwards towards the now abandoned bar top. You knock into a couple chairs, but his arms keep you from tripping. His hands are propped on your ass, navigating you to the edge of the bar top. When your back is pressed against it, he starts to shove his thumbs under your waist band. He pulls away from your lips to push down your jeans, letting them pool on the floor.
“Spread your legs,” he grumbles, “I want to taste you.”
You do as you’re told, shaking your jeans off your ankles and spreading your legs. Joel falls to his knees like a man starved. You note his devilish smile when you do as you’re told.
“I thought I was repaying you,” You choke out as his hands roam over your flesh. He chuckles darkly before pressing a kiss to your right inner thigh.
“Lettin’ me get between these legs with my tongue is repaying me,” He clicks as pulls at your panties. He slides them to the side, getting a great look at how wet you are already. Your knees feel like they may give out any second just from the anticipation, so when his mouth finds your entrance, you rest your elbows on the freshly wiped down bar.
Joel exploring you in this way was nothing new, but every time he went down on you, it was thrilling. He was simply so fuckin’ good at it. You never had a man take his time eating you out, desperately wanting you to cum straight on his tongue.
The vibrations from his groaning sends shockwaves down your legs, causing them to shake. Joel’s hands are the only thing keeping you stable because even your elbows are slipping from the bar top. The suckling noises coming from him are obscene, especially because you’re standing over the bar at your work. You cannot help but try to balance yourself so you can grind yourself down onto his eager tongue. Before you can really get started doing that, he pulls away, his wet lips glistening under the overhead lights.
He sticks his pointer, middle, and ring finger into his mouth, slathering them in his own saliva. You watch him carefully as he brings them up to your slit, adding to the slick that’s already there.
“I want you to cum all over my fingers before I bend you over this bar,” He practically moans. “Can you do that for me, baby?”
You can barely speak as his fingers slowly slip in and out of you, “Y-yes.”
“Yes what?” He adds another finger, curling them as he pumps in and out. Your head is spinning, watching his other hand spread over your lower stomach to hold you against the bar. You know what he wants, but you can hardly get the word ‘yes’ out, let alone the name he loves you calling him. You try to breathe in and center yourself, but the fire in your tummy burns bright.
“Y-yes, Sir. Please m-make me cum.”
He latches his lips around your clit as he speeds the strokes of his three digits. You grab onto his dark curls to hold him there to ensure that he doesn’t stop putting all the pressure right there. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train and you cannot help but scream out in pleasure.
He grabs your hips, not caring about your recovery. His dick is rock hard in his blue jeans and it makes you giggle in satisfaction. Joel has fucked you in so many different ways, but you do not remember a time he fucked you over counter.
Your upper body is laying flat against the wooden bar, your hands gripping onto the other side to steady yourself. You hear his zipper go down and then his hands are back on you. Your panties are stretched to hell already, so he practically tears the fabric off your lower body without any resistance. You chuckle at how vehement he is. He spreads your ass cheeks as he slips his cock between your closed thighs.
“Gonna need you to spread some more for me, sweet girl,” He mutters, smacking one of your cheeks lightly, “God, you’re so perfect.”
Your cheeks burn, “Yes, Sir.”
You do as you’re told, spreading your legs for him. When you do that, his dick prods at your clit, before easing into your entrance. You and Joel fuck raw, so when he opens you up, you feel every vein and ridge against your walls. He’s thick and it always takes you a minute to adjust to the feeling.
“So fuckin’ tight.”
He retracts back and inches forward again, letting you take in every inch of him. You grab onto the edge of the bar harder, your grip growing tighter with the action. He rests his grip on your hips, using them as leverage as he sets a steady pace. The moment his pace picks up, it’s like the motion pushes all the air from your lungs and you huff out louder. It only encourages him, but instead of keeping you in that position, he grabs onto your shoulders and lifts you up. You are lifted up to his chest, flush with his clothed upper body. He reaches around your arms and grabs onto your breasts through your thin v-neck.
“J-Joel,” you nudge him with your free hands, “Let me take it o-off.”
He slows his thrusts and lets you pull your shirt over your head. Instead of unhooking your bra, Joel takes the liberty to do it himself. The straps drop off your shoulders and you peel the padding off your chest. His hands instantly cradle your breasts, kneading them as he jolts forward to continue fucking you. His thumb and pointer pinch and tug at your pert nipples.
“Mmm,” He hums, “Only I can fuck you this good, huh?”
You whimper at his actions, “Only you, Joel.”
“That’s right.”
With that, he slips himself out of you, causing you to whine at the empty feeling. He moves you around like a rag doll, turning you around to face him.
Joel’s eyes are dilated and his hands are moving quickly to lift you off the ground and press your lower back into the bar. You place your hands on his shoulders, knowing exactly what position he wants you in.
He picks you up so seamlessly. It’s like when he’s horny or angry, he’s super strong and practically indestructible. He will probably complain how his back hurts later.
Your knees fold over his forearms, perfectly spread open for his taking.
You are so wet that he slips right into you. He uses the bar a bit for leverage as he fucks up into you, the angle completely sending you into a spiral. His eyes are perfectly trained on your chest, watching your tits jiggle as he drills into you.
“Most perfect thing I ever did see,” He remarks between strokes. Your nails are digging into his shoulder, right above a scar he got a couple years ago when he was out on patrol with your dad. You remember it was the first time you saw Joel shirtless. He was sitting next to your Dad in the infirmary, getting stitched up from getting caught on a sharp tree limb. You remember thinking how tan and beautiful he was back then.
Now you’re gripping onto his shoulders years later, his dick ramming into you and hitting you in all the right places.
Life is so mysterious and wonderful.
He bites his lip, putting all his focus into making you cum before he does himself. He’s a giver and for that, you’re extremely grateful. No man has ever put in as much effort. Before Joel, you did not know you could cum more than once in a single session. A couple months ago, he could not help his insatiable taste for you and made you cum 6 times.
His thrusts begin to falter when he feels you clenching around him, the fiery thrill building in your stomach. Your legs feel like jello, but as soon as the orgasm hits you, they stiffen in his grip.
“F-fuck Joel,” You whimper, stuttering at how good your body feels as your come down unravels. This orgasm is way more powerful, making you practically vibrate in Joel’s arms.
He fucks you through the feeling, his finish quickly approaching. When he’s finally finding his own release, he slips out of you before he can cum inside you. You two had an agreement that he could only cum inside you if you explicitly say he can. Since you didn't even think about it, you watch as his seed spills all over your pelvic bone.
When you two catch your breaths, he gently places you down on the ground. He steadies your wobbly legs by holding onto your naked waist.
You realize you are smiling like an idiot, completely blissed out on how good Joel made you feel. You find your footing, picking up your pants nearby. You don’t even bother with the material that used to be your underwear.
You hear Joel behind you fixing himself up, zipping his dick back into his jeans. You pull on your pants, leaving them unbuttoned. You grab the material on the ground and ball them up. You prance over to Joel, his eyes raking you up and down.
“You can keep this,” You joke, pulling at one of his front pockets. You tuck the panties into his pants, smiling widely.
“‘M just gonna add them to the collection,” He replies, gripping onto the point of your chin.
When he tilts your eyes up to meet his, your heart flutters at the action. He’s so beautiful with his fine lines and wildly untamed peppered curls. His eyebrows are furrowed as he contemplates your expression.
You finally say it. Those three words that you had been meaning to say for months. The words that you had never said to another man ever. There was a distinct moment about 2 months ago, after you had dinner with him and Ellie, where you almost said it while helping him with the dishes. It was that steadying of your heart, a moment you felt most at peace with someone. He made you comfortable. He made you feel safe.
“I love you, Joel.”
He drops your chin, his eyes soften at the statement. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Your anxiety starts to creep up your throat. Maybe you should not have said that. Fuck.
“I-I…”
“I love you too, sweetheart,” He says in almost a whisper before he takes your right hand, rubbing the top of it with his thumb. “‘M sorry I didn’t say it earlier.”
Your body relaxes, reassured by his answer. You did not have any doubts about your feelings for Joel, but your mind could not help but over analyze every little thing he ever said to you, forcing you to assume he may not feel the same way.
He brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a long kiss onto your knuckles.
“Let’s get you home, sweet girl. I gotta get up for patrol tomorrow.”
#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#joel miller#pedro pascal#joel miller fanfiction#joel last of us smut#joel miller fanfic#joel miller x reader#joel miller tlou#the last of us#joel miller x f!reader#gracieheartspedro
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
"MIGHT HURT" - SUGURU GETO
✴︎ summary: suguru's popularity is truly a curse, especially when he gets hit on right in front of you. luckily, you both know how to handle those situations. aka i heard this scene from 'no hard feelings' and i had to write a fic about it.
✴︎ contents:: jealousy, crack, fluff, humor, made-up girl from suguru's middle school before he came to jjt, naoya mention
✴ wc: 788
With the two princes of Jujutsu High, it was unfortunate that you had to date the more popular one.
And no, it wasn’t Satoru.
Suguru Geto is the more popular one — probably because of his manners, compared to Satoru’s…bluntness. It didn’t hurt that he was polite, a prodigy, and a perfect prince. And how could you complain?
Except at moments like this you did.
It was supposed to be a simple mission. And it was. Two grade A curses the two of you exorcise with ease, and now you had one more night to spend at the hotel Jujutsu High had kindly booked — some of the only real alone time two of you rarely had — without Satoru bursting into either one of your dorms (whether the door was locked or not).
“Finally a date, a real date,” you sigh, walking hand in hand with him, “should we commemorate with a picture?”
He smiles, rolling his eyes, “I left my phone at the hotel — I didn’t want any interruptions,” and you grin, as he leans in, breath warming your lips like an invitation, “just you and me, Princess,”
“I like the sound of that,” you murmur — how was it he still could make your heart skip a beat like that? — utterly unfair. And your lips nearly brush when a voice interrupts you.
“Geto?” Your heads snap over, as the two of you untangle yourselves. A girl in an unfamiliar high school uniform walks over, “it’s you, how are you?” Her lips are curled too widely, her eyes too eager, and her body language completely ignoring your presence.
Oh, what the f-
“Fumi?” He asks, lips in that same smile he gave everyone, the painted polite grin he plastered on, “it’s been a long time,”
“It has. I heard you are going to a school in Tokyo now,” she smiles, “I stay in Tokyo with my family sometimes, we should meet up. I can you give my number,”
Suguru opens his mouth to reply, but you cut in, a tight lipped smile on your face, “He doesn’t have his phone, so…” you reply, and she acknowledges your existence for a moment, gaze finally sliding to you.
“Oh, then maybe I can give you my number and you can send it to him,” she offers, and you tilt your head.
“No need,” and you can see Suguru glance between the two of you, his hands in his pocket.
“Can’t hurt,” she flutters her eyelashes at Suguru, pouting, and you wonder if she would count as another curse you could exorcise. Although surely a fly head was more trouble than she would be.
“Might hurt,” and Suguru’s arm snakes around your waist, physically reigning you in.
“Me and my girlfriend actually have to get back to school, but it was nice to see you again, Fumi,” and he’s scrawling a number down, “here’s my number,” he waves, before ushering you off. She tries to stop you two, to no avail, as Suguru uses a small curse to draw her attention away for a moment before recalling it.
“Was that necessary?”
“Well I think using a cursed spirit was preferable to you beating her with your cursed tool, wouldn’t you agree?” he scoffs, but he can’t keep his lips from curling into a smile, “I didn’t really give her my number,”
“I know,” you were irritated - not stupid. You knew Suguru wouldn’t cheat on you, but you hear a noise escape his throat — and you know he’s laughing.
And it looks could kill, he would have been as dead as those curses from earlier, “you find this funny, don’t you?”
“You getting jealous of some girl I barely knew from middle school? Yes, I do,” he snorts, mirth in his tone, “but I could go back and give her my real number if you want,”
“Do that, and you won’t have to worry Fumi getting hurt, because she won’t be the one getting their ass kicked,” and he laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead, before his lips find yours — and you can feel him smile against your lips, “it’s really annoying that all these people flirt with you, but I guess it’s only because my boyfriend’s hot,”
“Got a catch didn’t you?” he hums, pressing another kiss to your lips.
“Lucky me,” you mumble, sarcasm heavy on your tongue, and he’s kissing you more insistently, showering your face with kisses until you smile, pushing him off, giggling, “ok, ok! I’m lucky,” you sigh, burying your face in the crook of his neck again as the two of you walk, “whose number did you give her anyway? Satoru?”
“No, Naoya,” and you snort, pressing a kiss to your devious boyfriend’s cheek.
“Poor girl.”
✴︎ a/n: i watched no hard feelings last night and i couldn't get this idea out of my head. i was gonna write it with gojo, but i remembered how gege said geto was more popular so :)
#sab [mlist]#suguru geto x reader#geto suguru x reader#suguru geto fanfiction#suguru geto fluff#geto x reader#geto fanfiction#jjk fluff#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#jujutsu kaisen x reader#geto suguru imagines#geto suguru x you#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen fanfic
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
HIDE AND SEEK | mattheo riddle
summary; you and mattheo play a little game on hallowe’en.
word count; 9058
notes; don’t forget to check out the sister fic to this one by @azrielscrown, we did a lil joint thing, and you can see me making some cameos if you wanna hang out 😉 we’ve been keeping this lil secret for WEEKS and I’m so happy we can finally share it with you all <3
“Sit still, will you?” Your giggle echoed off of the stone walls in Mattheo’s bathroom. He scoffed, shuffling between his feet once again.
“S’not my fault it tickles! I don’t know how you girls do this every day, don’t the brushes make you want to sneeze?” His nose scrunched up as he spoke, but he let you continue to set the wet paint around his face with powder. His eyes focused on you, you could feel the stare as you observed the photograph he was holding up, a cut-out piece of a magazine. “You’re pretty when you’re focused.”
“And you’re distracting me,” You switched brushes, slapping at his hand as his fingers began to tease at your thigh. Returning it to its place on the counter beside your thigh, he shuffled between your legs impatiently once again, and pouted. “I can’t do your makeup like that. Smooth your face out.”
“Kiss.”
“Mattheo—”
“Kiss!” He repeated, and the smile you wore was against your control as you leaned in, pecking his lips softly, doing your best not to smudge the makeup you’d already applied around the centre of his face. It was too short and chaste for his liking, that much was clear when you pulled away as he licked at your lower lip, a whine coming from him as he chased you forward, only to be foiled by a chuckle, and a hand on his chest.
“I’m not redoing this for you if you make a mess of it! I don’t have time, I still have to get ready myself. Party starts in less than an hour, you know.”
“I know.” Mattheo grouched, smoothing his features out as you ran a thumb over his lips, refocusing on painting the skeletal features onto his face. “Y’know, you still haven’t told me what your costume is going to be.”
“You’d know if you’d gone for a couples costume with me. Stop moving your mouth.”
“That’s not fair!” He cringed and the brush slipped right into his mouth, leaving a streak of wet paint across his tongue, and you raised your brows. “I had to go with the boys, I couldn't be the only one who didn’t join in!”
“I’m messing with you, honey. Now, stop talking.” He merely grumbled behind closed lips, but his eyes were sparkling. He remained still and quiet, letting you paint the final pieces of his makeup around his mouth, stretching the creepy, toothy grin across his cheeks. Plucking the picture from his fingers and holding it up, you glanced a few times between it and your boyfriend, shrugging with a sigh. “That’s as good as it’s gonna’ get.”
Standing straight and moving to the mirror, his jaw dropped a little, hand rising but fingers never quite touching his face, tipping his head side to side to observe it. “Damn, baby, this is better than just ‘good’, it’s great!”
“Yeah? Good enough for your little boy’s night scare fest?”
“Don’t call it that, but yes.” Reaching for his hand, you tugged him back toward you, standing him before you and shaking the bottle in your hand. “What’s that?”
“Special setting spray. Close your eyes.” He did as told, eyes closing as you unpopped the lid. “I warn you, it may take some serious scrubbing after this to get the paint off, might leave some stains.”
“Wait, what—” You sprayed it across his face, and a choked sound between a gag and a cough left him as you covered his skin in a thick layer of the spray. Flapping your hand over his face to help his glistening skin dry, his frown deepened, hands reaching for you blindly, and gripping your hips. “I feel like my eyelids just got glued shut.”
“You’re so dramatic.” He cracked his eyes back open, several blinks and a few funny faces to adjust the stiffness, before he was tapping lightly at his skin, fingers pulling away clean. “You should still be careful with it, but it should hold. Just don’t… rub your face, or get any drinks thrown at it by scared party-goers.”
“Always ruining my fun.” Mattheo’s wistful sigh had you laughing once again, slipping down from the counter and slipping your hands under the edge of his baggy shirt. Lifting it up carefully and guarding his face, he raised his arms up, helping to slip off the shirt without disturbing the makeup on his face, leaving it heaped next to the paints and brushes on the counter. “Always helping me out.”
“Yes, well, someone’s got to keep your hopeless arse out of bother.” You leaned in, placing a kiss on his chest. “What does the rest of this group costume consist of?”
“Suits. Not sure whose choice that was, probably Dray’s one condition on joining in.” Pretty brown eyes rolled at his friend, even if his lips were raised in a wide smile. “I’ll get ready, and then we can go to your dorm and get you all ready before meeting the rest?”
“I’ll go start getting ready now, while you do. Save some time.” He only hummed, your heart skipping a single beat as the first deception of the night passed seamlessly through your lips.
“Alright, I’ll pick you up in fifteen minutes.”
You only nodded, pecking his lips delicately one more time, before slipping from his arms, out of his dorm and into the corridors. Your feet were moving fast, like a sprint through the halls towards your own dorm. Fifteen minutes was barely enough time to grab the things you need and escape from the Slytherin dorms without your boyfriend seeing you. You dragged out the bag you’d already packed from under your bed, and the pre-written note you’d hidden in your bedside drawer.
His name was written neatly across the front, and you flipped it open, double-checking the message inside. In perfect, neat cursive;
‘Find me before midnight xo’
Folding it back up and propping it on the bed where you knew he’d see it, you eyed it for a second. Putting down your bag and rooting through, you gave your lips a half-hearted swipe of red lipstick, blotting them for a second before pressing a kiss to the note over his name, a single clue to start the game, before returning it to its spot.
With that, you were off, leaving your dorm unlocked and enchanted, for his entry and his entry alone.
The common room was packed with groups gathered, ready to leave for the Weasley twins’ party, making it easy for you to blend in and disappear. The halls were just as busy, decorated and overflowing with chatter, the castle ghosts crowding and gathering happily to add to the atmosphere.
Everyone else seemed to be heading down and out, leaving you as one of the few people heading up, to the prefect’s bathroom on the fifth floor. It was empty as you arrived, the sound of your bag hitting the floor creating an echo to bounce off of the walls.
Tugging on your costume only took minutes, stashing your clothes back in the bag and leaving it open as you fished through for your makeup kit. It was as you were leaning across the sink, one eye closed as you swept eyeliner into a sharp point in one corner that the door crashed open once again. Jess stumbled through it, arms full of whatever costume the Weasley boys had forced upon her, and you stood straight up, trying not to blink and smear the wet liner before it dried.
“Pushing it late, huh? Party starts in fifteen minutes!”
“Don't remind me…” Jess shucked off her robes, dumping the cloak on top of your empty bag, and beginning to undo the buttons of her shirt as you turned back to the mirror once again.
When you were satisfied with your makeup, two sharp wings on either side and red lips to match your dress, you gave a happy nod to your reflection. With a few minutes to spare and a bottle of nail polish waiting to be used, you hopped up onto the sink. Costume now donned, Jess was lacing up heeled boots that reached all the way to her thighs.
“Are you trying to scare the masses, or seduce them?” With only a sly smirk of her own in return, Jess made her way to the mirror beside yours, plucking the red lipstick from your makeup bag.
“I’m supposed to be a bloodthirsty sorceress,” Popping the cap, she applied a coat. “Know any men who wouldn't mind having their hearts ripped out?”
“A few. The boys will be in skull makeup tonight, so aim for them first.” Your legs swung as you chuckled at her statement, focused on the brush moving across your nails. You wondered just how many of the boys were ready, and what Mattheo was doing right now. Surely, he’d already be on the hunt. “Save the curly one for me, though.”
Jess only beamed in response. “You’ve sent Riddle out on that wild goose chase yours, then?”
You shrugged, ever the picture of easiness as you blew on your wet nails to dry them. “He’s got until midnight to find me.”
Excited knots twisted at your stomach with the mere thought, the thrill of the cat-and-mouse chase. It would likely drive Mattheo insane, knowing you were toying with him as he searched. “What happens when the clock strikes twelve?”
“Let's just say, that I’m fully prepared to live up to my house name, and let him slither in.”
Zipping your makeup bag up with the nail polish inside, you packed all of the clothes into your bag, stashing it behind one of the sinks. “At least one of us is having fun tonight.”
Oh, that was no doubt. You weren’t sure ‘fun’ was even a fair word to use, knowing that the way you were riling your boyfriend up was more like a first-class ticket to seeing Heaven. “Who says you can’t? You may owe Fred a favour, but that doesn’t mean you can’t cause a little trouble.”
Jess shared a devious smile, sliding a gold mask into place as you slipped your own red one on to match, “I like the way you think.”
Placing the final part of your costume onto your head, the small horns on the headband complete your ‘devil’ look, and you hopped down to join her.
With your arm linked through your friend’s, the two of you set off. At the pathway marked as the beginning of the no-doubt terrifying journey ahead, Jess split off, a wink in your direction as you blew a kiss in hers, wishing her luck on the night of haunting ahead, mind set on your own task.
Mattheo had told you where the boys all planned to meet, leaving you plenty of time to slip into the throng of people and disappear into the masses. Your plan: to remain hidden in plain sight.
Weaving through the crowds, eyes scanning over every person there, it wasn’t long until you spotted your boyfriend. Leaning against the trunk of a tree, flanked by only Enzo and Draco so far, he was already searching for you amongst the hordes. You followed closely behind a group, slipping into their ranks seamlessly, as Mattheo’s focus moved across you, flickering over the group and dismissing them quickly as strangers. A spark of excitement shot along your spine.
Just like that, you were walking straight past him. Your cover merely being that of standing among people you didn’t even know meant letting him look right through you like fog in the early morning.
Slipping inside one of the hidden walkways, darkness encased you, hiding you from view as all the horrors and thrills Fred and George had managed to create took place.
Actors in costumes, enchantments to create realistic scenes, and laughter poured from your lips as much as screams did, your heart was pounding as you cleared the tunnel minutes later.
Surrounding the clearing on all sides were various attractions. How they’d managed to pull all this together, you had no idea, but the twins never failed to impress you. Several hexed bonfires filled the clearing, a hazy setting washing over your skin from that very first sniff of woody smoke pulled into your lungs.
A haunted hayride, pulled along no doubt by the thestrals that Luna seemed so fond of took off on your right, a speakeasy-style building to the left, a haunted house with screams filling the chill night air right before you. Bobbing for apples, a spooky corn maze with moving scarecrows, everything that would send chills down your spine.
Mattheo and the boys would likely catch up any moment, more visitors pouring in around where you’d paused at the end of the tunnel to admire, so you spurred yourself into action. The night couldn't end just yet, you still had hours of fun ahead of you.
Angling yourself towards the speakeasy first, you stepped through the door, the subtle smell of gin and perfumed musk washing over your senses as you stepped up to the twisted staircase, flickering lights disappearing into darkness before your very eyes.
Down, down, down, you moved. Swallowed whole by the shadows, your shaky laughter would doubtless have clouded your breath with the sudden chill that took you over, so dark for a moment you couldn't even see your hand before your face. Then, just as your hand skimmed towards your wand for a Lumos spell, a curtain swept aside, a couple stumbling out between fits of tipsy giggles, guiding you with flashes of coloured lights and the beat of unconfined music.
The moment you were inside, all silencing spells wore off, blinding lights flashed across the dance floor, with the music that was pounding through the room so deep the base travelled up your legs. The floor was packed, everybody dancing to their heart’s content, and those who weren’t were gathered around small tables for card games, or crowding the bar.
It wasn’t long until you located a group of your friends, some with their dates, some solo, and you were quickly immersed under the cover of the group. The beat had your eyes slipping closed, rhythm flowing through you as your body swayed. A drink was pressed into your hand by a friend, the fruity taste coating your tongue and leaving your body in a numb haze.
You had to say, you were impressed by the effort the twins had gone to. Despite the student-body having only found out about this party a few weeks ago, you knew for them to have pulled this off, they’d have to have been planning since Valentine’s Day. Songs passed by in a blur of dancing and more drinks, a shot came soon, so spicy your eyes watered and throat stung, only soothed by the lime you were handed to follow.
Wiping a stray droplet of juice from under your lip as you pulled the slice away, you almost missed the flash of skull makeup and blond hair in your peripheral. Draco was on the dance floor, making his way across, a smirk on his lips as a hand with manicured nails reached out to clasp his tie, trying to tug him into a dance.
You didn’t have to search for long to find the face you knew so well, the one you’d painted yourself only a couple of hours prior, also on the dance floor. Hands reached for him too, trying to pull him this way and that, but he wasn’t stopped. No, he was searching. Looking at every face with your hair colour, checking under masks and turning dancers around despite their protests, just to rule them out from the game.
And he was heading right for you.
Spinning away from him, you ducked across towards a friend, her arms looping around your body as you neared, none the wiser to the game you were playing, and the distraction she provided. Swaying your body with her own, you pushed your lips close to her ear, watching Mattheo over her shoulder. “I need another drink, you want one?”
She only shook her head, released you near the back of the group and let herself get swept back up, as you were hidden away behind the crowd, sneaking towards the bar.
Padma and her sister were serving quickly, wands in hand as they floated several cups through the air all at once. Slices of fruit and cubes of ice drop, tinkling into plastic cups ready for them to fill.
Flagging down one of the twins, a shaky breath of pure excitement leaves you, as you turn your focus back to your boyfriend. He looks like he’d been having fun. A little dishevelled, the top buttons of his shirt undone and his tie loosened, smudges of dirt and glitter on his clothes from wherever he and his boys had been playing, scaring unsuspecting patrons and gathering screams.
His hair was no longer the neat style he’d doubtless have gelled it into, the stands messy from running his fingers through it, and curls beginning to form in the heat of the bar. A single curl fell across his forehead, brushing through the paint, and your fingers itched to brush it out of his eyes, like always.
He’d reached the group now, searching idly in the area you’d been occupying, not finding you where you’d once been, chasing only steps behind and having no idea.
The visible frustration he wore gave you a cocky smile, a rush of pride filing you up, watching as he made to move on, to more fruitless endeavours.
Then, a hand shot out.
A hand in a black lace glove, attached to a girl in a full-body leather jumpsuit, hugging every inch of her body, the little cat ears you knew well. A member of your former dance group, poking up into the air. Pulling him to a stop, he bowed his head, lips moving and a conversation you couldn't hear taking place, and his head snapped up in your direction.
For a second, your breath caught, swearing he almost looked right at you as he scanned his gaze over the bar. Someone had told him you’d been there, that you’d headed for the bar, and he filled with renewed vigour, eyes twinkling with mischief even from this distance.
Motioning to Draco— who now had the rest of the owner of that manicured hand wrapped around him— to head to the bar, he moved like a man whom wild horses wouldn't be able to stop. The crowd parted around him as he moved, leaving nobody in his wake, not until he was right up to the bar at the other end. He motioned for one of the twins to take his order.
Padma finally arrives to take your drink request, your order only adding to the floating display over their heads, and the display is utterly mesmerising. Much like the floating candles in the Grand Hall, light shimmers and reflects through every drink and piece of glass, light bursting out across the room.
Following one trail of light, you spot Jess entering the bar, followed quickly in tow by someone in matching skull makeup, this one with shaggy blonde hair, his eyes locked on her like she’s the only girl in the room. You quirk a brow, sealing that little piece of information away for later.
You’re so caught up with your people-watching that you almost forget the game afoot, that Mattheo is so close, until the rough grate of his voice only a few seats down breaks you from your reverie. Snapping your eyes to him, he’s leaning on one arm, back to you as his focus scans out across the crowd. Somewhere on the dance floor is Enzo, you’re sure, and Draco has his lips on the neck of his mystery girl, completely ignoring Mattheo’s summons to the bar. You know where Theo’s interests lay, and you’re not sure where Pansy and Blaise will have snuck off too, likely some dark corner where they won’t be seen.
Your boyfriend was the only one in the group not dancing tonight, something that had you smirking. Swiping up your drink and bringing the straw to your lips, you admired his jawline as he stretched his head, once again searching. That was until a girl in a tight black dress and black feathered angel wings made her way over to him, clearing her throat lightly to bring back his attention as he continued the hunt.
“Hi, Mattheo. Over here all alone, why aren’t you out there—”
“I have a girlfriend.” His curt response was flat and bored, and you almost snorted some of your drink trying not to laugh. Her expression wavered, a pout forming on her lips as she tried again, undeterred, reaching out to take the end of his tie between two fingers.
“I don’t see her.”
Smoothing his hand down his front to remove his tie from her hold, he scoffed, shaking his head; “Neither do I, that’s the damn problem.”
This time, you were too slow in holding back your laughter, the sound bursting from you against your control. You hoped the music would cover it, but Mattheo heard it, whipping his head around in your direction, as he began to analyse every person at your end of the bar.
Taking your drink and quickly ducking behind a man dressed as the Phantom at the Opera, you ducked and dove between people, daring a look back at the bar to see Mattheo stood where you had once been, looking amongst the people, but thankfully, not in your current direction.
Glancing around for some quick cover, you spotted Jess, making your way over to her and watching as the boy she was with parted with a lingering kiss to her cheek. She clocked your approach, a wide smile bursting free on her lips, and her hands reached for you, tugging you into a dance with her as soon as you were near enough.
“I take it Riddle hasn’t found you yet?”
“No, but he’s close.” You have to shout over the music, tipping your head in the direction you last saw him. She glances over your shoulder toward the bar, where her dance partner seems to have found himself too, along with the others.
“Gettin’ colder, he and Draco are heading toward the exit.” Spinning you around smoothly, a smirk pulled on your lips. A determined-looking Mattheo began to chase a cold lead, the unsuspecting girl who did look rather like you from behind leading him off-course.
Twisting back to face her, your brow hitched up as the mystery man began to make his return, two new drinks in hand. “Is that Theodore Nott you’re flirting with?”
“Maybe, maybe not.” It was her turn to smirk, shrugging and brushing her hair from her shoulders. “He doesn't know it’s me, though, so if he asks you, you have no idea who I am tonight.”
“My lips are sealed.”
With a final wink, you slipped away, knowing she’d only be alone for a second before your boyfriend’s best friend was all over her once again. Following in the direction Mattheo had just left, you reentered the dark halls. The glow of his and Draco’s wands ahead, that and their murmured chatter bouncing from the walls, was your pin-point to follow through the new maze of tunnels.
Too busy looking ahead, he had no idea you were right behind him.
Hands reached out, faces flashing before your eyes as actors and other fear-mongers stalked the dark tunnels, and if it wasn’t for your boyfriend’s light ahead, you’d have screamed and given yourself away a long time ago. When you reached the central clearing once again, it was even busier than it had been before, you emerged not long after the boys, from a hidden alcove between the cornfield maze and a stand selling hot cider.
Mattheo and Draco were gone, disappearing faster into the masses than you could comprehend, likely to find more of their little group, and you grabbed a cider, digging a galleon out of your pocket and tossing it into the collection jar, before taking a stroll around the maze. It was in there that you found Pansy and Blaise, hidden away in a darkened corner, just as you suspected.
Both had swollen lips and glossy eyes when you cleared your throat at them, grinning at the blush spreading across your friend’s pale cheeks, as Blaise only smirked.
“Ah, well, look who it is.” He mused, covering Pansy as she attempted to adjust her costume once again, and your laughter wasn’t lost on her, only getting flipped off as she tried to pull the corset top back up over her bra. “By your absence of lover boy, I take it Mattheo hasn’t found you yet?”
“So, he’s told you about the little game I’ve laid out, has he?”
“Oh, absolutely. We have a little bet going. By all means, keep this up, you have me winning. I bet he wouldn't find you at all.” Your head tipped to the side, a little sip of your hot cider as you considered his words, before Pansy was snatching it from your hand, sniffling it, and taking a gulp.
“You bet against him?”
“Of course, look at you. Over halfway through the night and he still hasn’t found you. Pansy, on the other hand…” He teased, and she smacked at his arm. You gasped.
“Pans, you bet against me? And to think, I was sharing my drink with you.” Snatching it back, she pouted, but shrugged.
“Hey, nothing against you. He just had better odds, he’s recruited everyone to help him find you!”
“And a marvellous job you’re all doing of that. Tell me, did you find me hiding behind Blaise’s tonsils?” Her cheeks went red again, along with a burst of deep laughter from the other culprit that had him clutching his stomach. She shushed him quickly, despite the silencing spells cast over the maze for an added air of creepiness.
“Well, here you are, are you not?”
“Sure.” You rolled your eyes fondly, stepping away from the pair. “I’ll let you get back to your intense searching. Don’t tell Matty you saw me!”
And with that, you slipped back into the darkness, the bushes around you rustling and creaking as they changed with every step you took. It wasn’t until you’d successfully given up, growing bored as the chill of mist rose goosebumps on your skin that the hexed forestry finally freed you, a pathway clearing and opening up ahead of you to release you back to the party.
Seeking the moon in the sky, you found it not long until midnight, Blaise had told no lie, your game coming closer and closer to the end, where you would be crowned the winner. Taking a seat before the fireplace, you settle in to watch the flames, and peer around to spot your hunter.
There. It only took a second to find him but there he was, a little clearing across the way, leaning against some haybales with a blunt balanced between two fingers. Bringing it back to his lips, he took a drag, smoke filtering out into the cold air and obscuring his face, before passing the roll to Draco.
When the smoke cleared, his eyes locked on your own.
Just a second. A moment across the field, so far away, but he knew. Your breath hitched, his back straightened. Then he was moving, without even warning the rest of the group, he was taking long strides across the field, closing the distance between you both, and adrenaline surged through your system as you shot to your feet.
Your closest building was the haunted house, his eyes narrowing, a silent warning when a smile curved on your lips, already knowing your next move.
You bolted, a giggle breaking free as the true chase began, and he called your name, the sound lost amongst the chatter and amusement of everyone else gathered around. Slipping through the hoards of people, you stumbled through the front door, watching as Mattheo rounded the porch, trying to snake his way through to catch up.
A kaleidoscope of colours, screams and shouts and music, different rooms with every theme as you were ushered through in a rush, the whole attraction feeling like a fever dream as you searched for the exit. The game was reaching its peak, midnight neared, the moon called it into the sky, and being so close to the last moments, you were determined to win.
Stumbling out into the cold night air once again, you headed for the tree-line, secluded enough that you could lean on the thick trunk of an old oak. You watched the entrance to the haunted house, a red-painted lip caught between your teeth, eager for him to emerge in your wake.
You waited.
Waited.
Seconds ticking by, and the thunderous race of your heart in the moment finally began to slow. Gasping breaths became softer pants, calling to you the silence of the world around you when blood was no longer pumping in your ears.
A twig snapped behind you, and before you could turn to acknowledge the sound, a hand was sealing over your mouth, an arm banded around your waist, dragging you back into the darkness.
Spun around in their arms, your panic lasted barely a second, before soft lips were pressing firmly to your own, the familiar smell of cigarette smoke and woodsy cologne filling your senses. Your arms came up, gripping him just as tightly as he walked you backwards, pressing you to a tree as he left a dozen kisses on your lips, longing and loving after hours apart.
“You’re a little minx, do you know that?”
“Actually, I’m a little devil.” You snickered, hands on his chest to push him back enough to look down at your outfit, motioning to the horns still on your head. “See?”
“I see it, baby. I have to say, I love this costume.” His hand fell to your thigh, callouses scraping across soft skin until he found the short hem, tugging and twisting the flowing skirt around his fingers. “I’ve been searching every girl for red lipstick all night, thanks to your little clue. Should have known you’d be decked out in all red, too. Standing out, right there, the whole time.”
His mouth descended upon your own once again, a happy sound rumbling in the back of his throat as you kissed back just as eagerly, one hand sliding up into his hair. His hand squeezed at your thigh, slipping back down as far as your knee, only to hike your leg up around his hip, shocking you into a gasp.
“I’ve been running around all night trying to find you, and you were right under my nose the whole time, weren’t you?”
His kisses descended to your neck, a shaky sound slipping free as his teeth teased a spot on your jaw that made you tremble, gripping tighter to his suit for stability. Your breath was shaky as you spoke, desperate to reclaim some power, despite the way he was undoing you already, “What, you didn’t like my little game?”
“Oh, I loved your little game, baby. But, I think I just won. It’s a few minutes to midnight.” Licking a stripe across the underside of your jaw, you mewled, head tipping back against the tree, hips bucking up to meet his own, and he grunted. “What’s my prize?”
His gaze came back up, dark and challenging and sultry as he stared down at you, smirking. Licking across one red lip, his attention focused there, his own lips parting, getting closer, needy for another taste. “The second part of the costume, of course.”
Gripping his wrist and sliding it up and under your skirt, his fingertips smoothed over the lace of your panties. He didn’t hold back his groan, gripping your ass tightly in his hand and tugging you forward to rub against him once again. “Red, I assume?”
“Smart boy.”
“My dorm?” He whispered, forehead falling to your own, a needy sound your only form of reply as your hips rolled together, friction dragging and sparking heat across your body.
“What, you want to leave the party already?”
Your teasing words weren’t appreciated if the squeeze to your rear was any indication. “Game is over, don’t play with me anymore, my love. I need you, now.”
“Then let's go.”
The two of you stumbled along, barely keeping your hand to yourself as you hurried back through the woods, avoiding the crowds and teasing whistles of your friends by taking a more covert route instead. You certainly weren’t the only ones with the same thoughts, various couples were dotted through the woods, wandering hands and desperate kisses exchanged behind the trees and throughout the branches.
His hand was tight around yours, tugging you along with his pace, but when he stopped short, you almost crashed straight into his back. Following his line of sight, you huffed, pushing him with a hand on his back to get his feet moving again.
“Is that Theo over there, zipping his pants back up? Who’s he out here with?”
“You want gossip, or you want sex, Matt?” His body jolted at the insinuation, feet stumbling over one another as he picked the pace again. Guiding the two of you through one of the tunnels he had likely discovered during his night of scaring, the two of you paced back through the speakeasy.
Up the haunted stairs.
Through the woods.
Along the halls.
Past the common room.
And then, he was backing you up against his dorm door, fingers fumbling with the lock, pressing frenzied kisses to your lips as he slid the mask off of your face and threw it to the floor.
"You taste like cinnamon and wine." Mattheo moaned, practically sucking the taste of mulled cider from your tongue as you ground against his clothes cock.
"You taste like cigarettes and whiskey." Your words are bitten off as he nips on your lower lip, a whine spilling from you as his hand snakes back up your skirt, toying with the lace of your panties again. Hooking his fingers into the waistband, he snapped them against your hip. The sting of the elastic on your flesh made you gasp, and he only chuckled into your mouth in response.
“Godric knows, you’ve been driving me crazy tonight, baby, thinking about these red lips, lookin’ for them everywhere. Now I want to see what that red looks like around the base of my cock.”
Your fingers trailed across the front of his body, shaky fingers undoing the buttons of his shirt, tugging it more and more until it hung open, only his tie in the way as you peppered his chest with open-mouthed kisses. A moan spilled from his throat, his head tipping back, and he yanked at the tie, throwing it to the floor, quickly joined by his shirt and blazer until his torso was bare and exposed to your ministrations.
Your hands gripped his hips, spinning his body with your own until his back was to the wood instead. Mattheo only smirked, eyes half-lidded as he watched you, your red lipstick already smeared across his mouth, printed on his chest, his own makeup smudged to match.
One heavy hand found your shoulder, pressing you down, until you were on your knees before him, tugging at his belt as he lifted his hips from the door. His arrogance only grew, lifting one hand to comb through your tangled hair as you struggled with his trousers, pulling at them until they were halfway down his thighs. His cock sprung free, a hiss on his lips as the cold air of the dorm met his flushed skin.
Gathering your hair up and out of your face, he gripped it in a bunch behind your head, not pushing or pulling, just waiting as you peered up at him, licking over one kiss-bitten lip. His other hand fell to your cheek, smudging streaks of black and white facepaint as he went, tracing his thumb across your lower lip.
“You’re so beautiful, my love,”
Your smile made his thumb fall to your chin, a single squeeze, before he was retracting his hand, and manoeuvring your head towards his cock. Slipping the tip past your lips, a shudder passed over his body, his thighs clenching under your hands as your nails dug into his flesh, and his head ‘thumped’ on the wood of the door as it fell back.
“Salazar fuckin’ save me,” He panted, slipping further and further, his grip in your hair tightening with every inch, until he was tapping the back of your throat, your gag buzzing along his flesh in a way that made his hips buck. “Love your pretty little mouth. Make it so good for me, baby.”
Smiling as best you could with every inch of his cock slipping into your mouth, his hand tightening in your hair, pulling back just enough to let you take a breath before his hips were bucking again. This time, as he sank back into your mouth, your lips tightened around him, sucking suddenly, and his broken moan bounced off the walls of his dorm.
Again, and again, he was pushing you further, until you were comfortably taking him deep into your throat, tears lining your eyes, threatening to spill over your cheeks in a way you knew he loved to see. “Fuck, you’re so good down for me,”
Tracing your tongue around the head of his cock, you took control, sinking down against him and dragging your tongue along his cock, feeling the throb of that prominent vein. You moaned against him, and his body tensed at the feeling, making you pull back, just enough to have him gasping as the pleasure was ripped away.
You kissed at his hip, nipping his hip bones where they pressed to his skin, and a babbling mess of your name was all you got as he panted, flushed skin rising and falling.
Your hand took over, pumping his spit-slick shaft slowly, dragging up until his hips were following your hand with a pathetic groan. He finally had enough, enough of your teasing as you caught your breath, his head tipping back forward against his shoulders and blissed-out eyes narrowing on you.
“Tongue out for me, pretty girl.”
Your stomach flipped at his words, at the gravel in his tone, the way he yanked your hair back to control you as you opened your mouth, tongue falling out as he’d asked.
His cocky smile grew as you grinned back at him. Guiding his cock back to your mouth, he let the weight of it sit on your tongue, rubbing softly, pre-cum leaking and the taste of him made your thighs clench together.
He didn’t miss the action, not at all, his hips thrusting lazily in and out of your mouth as he gave you a nod. Sealing your lips back around him, you moved enthusiastically once again, bobbing up and down along his cock, wringing every bit of pleasure from him that you possibly could.
“So fucking good, baby, just like that. You like sucking my cock, huh? Always so eager for my cum in your mouth.” Pulling back, his cock fell free of your lips, spit tainted with red lipstick and pre-cum connected his tip to your lips, and he gathered it on his fingers. That same hand cupped your cheek, smearing it across your skin, “Not today though. Today, all my cum is going in that pretty pussy of yours.”
Kissing across his abs as you rose to your feet, his mouth was slamming onto your own. Tongue plunging in, your moan was lost to his lips as he worked at your clothes too, tugging at your dress, horned headband falling to the floor as he yanked the garment over your head.
Kicking off his trousers and stripping himself the rest of the way, he panted, eyes wide, admiring the lace set you’d donned for his eyes only tonight. “You’ve been wearing this all night, and you let me chase you ‘round for hours?”
His hands skimmed over your body, almost reverent with the lightness of his touch, tracing the corset top that hugged your chest, pushing your tits up to the perfect fullness. The panties with their tiny straps, sitting perfectly on your hips, across your cheeks to make your arse look round and shapely, the strings and ribbons that had his mouth watering as he stared in awe. “You like it?”
He only growled, a flash of cold travelling across his eyes as you fuelled the carnal desire boiling within him. He was moving in a flash, sitting on the edge of the bed and bending you sideways across his lap, his wet cock prodding your stomach as you gasped at his manhandling. His hand smoothed over your flesh, across the seam of your panties, chuckling at the wetness he found on the material, and swirling at your clit. “How many times, huh? How many times did I almost get to you, but you escaped me?”
“Th-Three.” Your mind was foggy, hazy as pleasure began to take over. Your eyes fluttered shut as you hung limply across his thighs, core clenching around nothing. He hadn't even touched you properly yet, and you were already falling apart for him. Your gut was tightening, hips rocking and pressing back onto his fingers as you neared that peak, the excitement and electricity of the night had had you worked up for hours now, all moving toward this.
“Three times. Three times you ruined my victory, so I think three times, I’ll ruin yours.”
His words had barely even registered in your mind when his touch left you, a cry of protest being cut shut by a sharp slap across your ass, your body jerking forward at the force, and pleasure zipped through you, despite your denied orgasm. “Damn it, Matty…”
“That’s what you get, baby.”
You pushed yourself up, shaky hands, putting on your best pout as you turned to face him. He only mimicked the expression, mocking you. Tugging you in instead, he licked his way into your mouth, filthy, panting kisses taking over as he made sure to ruin whatever was left of your makeup. You adjusted yourself across his body, settling down to sit against one thigh, nipping on his bottom lip and rocking your hips.
Slow, so slow, you moved over him, feeling the muscle of his thigh tense up underneath you, his hands roaming your body, distracted and oblivious of the pleasure you were taking for yourself as that fiery pleasure rekindled once again. He reached for the back of the corset, tugging at the hoops, undoing them roughly until it was falling to the floor and he was catching one nipple between his lips.
“Oh, fuck, Mattheo…” You whispered, arching closer to him, pushing your chest further into his face as he teased his teeth across the taut bud. A sob left your lips, fingers carding through his hair, tugging at the roots to convey words that were melting to nothing on the top of your tongue.
His arm caught around your waist, tugging you closer into his body, making it harder for you to move as you tried to squirm in his lap. His breathy laugh spread over the skin of your chest as he littered it with hickies, switching to the other side and leaving one wet, perky nipple cool in the air of the room.
“Matt, please!”
“Please, what? What do you want, my love?” When he was satisfied with the havoc he was wreaking on your body, his attention moved to your neck. Your arms around his shoulders, head tossed back, panting and whining as you ground against his thigh. “You wanna’ come, baby?”
“Y-Yeah.” The feeling was burning through your veins, taking you over, your eyes rolling back as your pussy throbbed.
He pulled you in, a finger and thumb on your chin to guide your face back to his own, lips brushing. “Too bad.”
He gripped you once again, both arms holding you steady, unable to chase any kind of pleasure, as he kissed your neck, his smirk on your skin showing he knew just what he was doing.
“Thought you’d get away with that, didn’t you? I’m not even going to count that one.” Tugging your panties to the side, two fingers sank into you, and your back arched into his body as he touched you at last. “You can’t win at my game. My little loser, huh? What a shame.”
You were shaking atop him, the feeling of his fingers, the curl and the pump he knew so well. Mattheo could read your body like a map, he knew just what you needed, just how to touch you, and he was using that to his advantage. Two fingers became three, stretching you out deliciously and yet it still wasn’t enough. You collapsed against his body, desperate to come, moaning like a whore and forever on the edge as he toyed with you.
Your forehead was pressed to his, crying his name, begging against his mouth as he licked at your lip, tipping his head up to catch you for a kiss. When he pulled away this time, you could feel the tears in your eyes, nails digging into his skin, pleading with sounds that no longer resembled words.
You could feel his frustration; every time he’d almost found you, every dead-end, every narrow escape.
A sick, twisted part of you was loving every second of this delicious torture, and you found yourself face down in the sheets, panties around your thighs and his cock slamming into you, so hard that a scream ripped through you.
“Shh, you can take it, my little demon. I know you can.”
“I can, Matty. I can take it. I can take more.” You wanted it, you wanted it bad, spurring him on. Your hands scratched in the covers, legs spreading even further, body rocking with every deep thrust he gave you. His kisses travelled over your spine as your tears smeared mascara and eyeliner into the sheets. His body smothered you, one hand coming around to clasp your own, love shining through in his actions even as he ruined you, took you apart until your mind was shattered.
You’d be wrecked in the morning, you’d surely be unable to walk, sore legs and trembling limbs, you’d have to spend half the morning just recovering from the way he was fucking you now. Brutal, fast, slamming in and out and making you sure your eyes would never come back from how far they were rolled into your head.
Nerves were lighting up, electricity shooting along every cell of your body as his slick skin slid against yours, one hand in your hair, tugging your head back as his lips brushed your ears.
“Wish you could see yourself, pretty girl. Wish you could see what I see. Shaking, dripping, my cock sliding in and out of this pussy like you were made for me.” He slowed his pace, for just a second, and you keened back into him, chasing the pleasure that was already building once again, even if you knew it would be fruitless.
You may have lost the ability for sentient thought, but his count was ringing in your head, only two of three failed orgasms served. Your body tensed with a shudder, the anticipation lingering in the air like a sword over your head.
“You really do belong in the pits of hell, don’t you? Look what you do to me.” His teeth grazed over your shoulder, biting down on your skin enough to make you cry out his name, bucking against his touch as he soothed the bite with gentle licks. “There’s nothin’ angelic about you, you’re nothin’ but a sinner.”
His name spilled from your lips, again and again, like you were begging for redemption.
“You’re on your knees, but you’re praying to me.”
His hand snaked around your body, finding your swollen clit and brushing his fingertips across it, pitching the bud harshly between his fingers. “Matt—”
“You want to come?”
“Yes!”
“What a shame.” He slipped himself out of your cunt, spewed curses in anger leaving your wobbling lips, more tears spilling over as he took away the last part of your dignity.
Twisting your entangled bodies, he guided you until your back met the bed sheets, pushing you up as he crawled over you. Hooking his fingers into the edges of those panties and pulling them away, he spread himself over you.
He barely gave you time to recover, the stimulation all too much, as he lifted your legs to hook them over his shoulders plunge his cock back into the sopping heat of your cunt.
This may have been his game, but when his forehead came to rest on your own, hands frantically bunching in the sheets beside your body, you knew the last round had begun. The ball was in your court, his own need displayed clearly on his face as he rutted into you desperately. His rhythm was lost, sloppy and out of control, and you squeezed yourself around his cock.
You pressed sweet kisses to his lips, tempting him over the edge with a drag of your teeth across his lip, a lap of your tongue, and he was done for.
Finally, your peak crashed over you. Waves and waves, blinding pleasure that left you with silent, open-mouthed screams. Twitching underneath him, your fingers tore down his back, your legs snapped against his hips, holding him to your body as white-hot bliss drowned you.
He only needed a few more thrusts, your back arching and his name a chant, enough profanities to scar anybody passing by as the lewd sounds of your movements covered your moans. He came with a groan, thrusting through until the sound tapered off into a whimper, his own unsteady body collapsed down on top of you. Dragging breaths into his lungs to recover as his sweaty body covered you, you hooked your arms around him, hugging him close, unwilling for him to move even a fraction.
You felt numb, the aftershocks of pleasure racing through your body, still twitching and shaking despite his weight on top of you. Freeing one hand, he smoothed it up your body, dragging from your thigh to your ribs, stroking softly in soothing motions, as his lips gave delicate pecks, shushing every lingering whimper that escaped.
You reciprocated the action, raising one hand to land in his hair, fingers brushing through sweaty curls, as his cheek found your shoulder.
“That… was some of the best sex we’ve ever had.” Your words were still breathless, and he laughed lightly, nodding against you where he lay.
His skin was littered with lipstick, smudges of his facepaint on every part of your body, painted with love and lust everywhere you’d touched one another. The night was still heavy on your skin, the festivities outside still raging even if your night had come to an end.
Maybe minutes had passed, maybe hours, but eventually, Mattheo dragged himself up, pulling himself free from your body, and smirking down at every mark he’d left on your skin. With unbalanced steps, he wandered away to the bathroom of his dorm, the squeak of the taps and the splash of water in the basin signalling the running of a bath.
He offered you a hand as he returned, pulling you to your feet, the two of you wobbling your way through to the bathroom and taking stock of your mess as the water ran. Elixirs and salts, the fresh smell of jasmine and honey filled the air, and then you were sinking in, leaning back against Mattheo’s body as the two of you revelled in the hot water.
His hand looped around your body, fingers lacing with yours and resting on your stomach, as his chin hooked over your shoulder. For a while, the two of you remained just like that, chasing the cold of the night from your bones and merely enjoying one another’s company.
“Tell me, was that your little friend— the one who was ripping out hearts for the Weasel-twins— that I saw running from Nott in the woods, this evening?”
“Oh, Matty,” You chuckled, turning to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “You have no idea the games she’s been playing tonight.”
He only grinned, head resting on the edge of the tub. “I fear those two together, they’ll rip each other’s hearts out.”
“Maybe so,” You mused, his fingers dragging along your ribs, and you shuddered happily. “Or maybe, they just found their perfect match together.”
“Just like I found you.” He whispered, lips brushing along your cheekbone, and you scoffed.
“You’re so cheesy.”
“It was your game!”
Your hum echoed off of the walls. “Don’t tell Theo. I want to see how it plays out.”
“What, and ruin the surprise? I would never.” He smirked, “Besides, Theo didn’t help me find you, let him search for a while.”
Holding onto his forearm banded around your waist, your fingers traced up and down, before his hand caught yours, holding tight and weaving fingers your together.
“I love you, but don’t you ever run from me again. There is not a place on this earth you could hide that I wouldn't find you. I’d search forever.”
“You know,” You whispered, turning in his arms to sit across his lap, and he made a happy sound, face tipping up to brush his lips on your own. “That sounds vaguely threatening. You’re a little bit fucked up.”
“That’s because it is a threat, and a promise. Besides, you’re a little bit fucked up too, because I know you love it.”
You couldn't deny it, only able to snicker in response instead, and press a firm kiss to his lips, which he was happy to return. “I love you too, Matty. Now, let’s try and scrub off all this makeup, hm?”
#mattheo riddle#mattheo x y/n#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle/reader#mattheo riddle/you#mattheo riddle x you#slytherin boys#benjamin wadsworth
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
You - Theodore Nott
Currently listening to Hollywood undead while I write this fanfic, anyways I’m a big whore (unfortunately) and I see that currently my poll is around the same votes for Mattheo and Theo…so this one will be for Theo (since my first fanfic was for Mattheo) and then my next fanfic after this one will be Mattheo x Reader x Theo bc I absolutely love men and poly relationships‼️
Summary - Theo notices someone being too handsy with GN!Reader in class and gets possessive
Warnings / Mentions - Reader is not in a specific house, no use of Y/n, kind of strangers to lovers? Reader is friends with the golden trio, Harry is the one being touchy, Possessive!Theo, Yandere!Theo, Stalker!Theo (but doesn’t really mention anything creepy except claiming the Reader)
I am willing to make a smutty part two of this if anyone wants it and I hope y’all recognize what I’m loosely referencing in this fic at the end LOL
Requested - No
POV - 1st person
Word Count - 1979
I fiddle with my tie, trying to re-adjust the cloth as it hangs loosely around my neck. I had originally loosened it because it had gotten really hot in the class room but that can be expected when you’re working on potions from time to time.
Harry was assigned to be my potions partner. Ron and Hermione were sat next to us as we read off all the needed ingredients.
Harry begins listing the items while counting them on his fingers in 3s. Once he’s mesmerized part of the ingredients, his eyes drift towards me. His eyebrow quirks up when he sees me struggling with my tie.
Immediately he forgets the stuff we need as he reaches over to my tie, gently removing my hands from the area as he re-adjusts it for me. A small blush forms on my face at how close he has gotten. I can very easily see his scar up close and how his glasses are settled on his nose.
Has he always been this pretty?
As if on command, his hands drop from my tie. I look down at his hands and back up as he gives me a cute but awkward looking smile.
The kind of smile you give someone when you realize just how close you are before moving away.
Harry stands and goes to grab the ingredients.
Hermione smiles at me with a grin that just screams, “I told you he liked you.”
I roll my eyes at her, watching as Ron fucks up something in their potion, causing his eyes to go wide. Hermione’s attention is redirected as she hits the back of his head, pushing him over to fix whatever he’s done.
As I wait for Harry, I look around the room. Some people are already done with their potions, some are restarting. And by restarting, I mean that Seamus’ is covered with dust and his hair is everywhere.
Well now I know why it’s so hot in here.
My eyes wander next to him to see the next table of students. At this table, Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott are sitting and just talking.
Looks like they’ve finished their potion.
I realize that Theo is looking at me and quickly look away.
I’ve talked to him a few times before but I really tried to stay away from his friend group. Except Enzo and Blaise, they’re really the only two I get along with well.
Being friends with the golden trio is nice but that just means that Draco’s friend group bitches about it all the damn time.
Harry walks back over, holding a tray in one hand with everything we need. He stands behind me, placing his free hand on my shoulder as he leans over me in order to place the tray on the table.
My eyes widen as a reaction at the touch. It’s not necessarily a touch that most people would think about however, I wasn’t used to people being physical with me.
#TouchStarved, I think to myself before cracking a smile at my own humor.
Theo and Blaise’s table is right behind where Hermione and Ron are sitting so I furrow my eyebrows when I see Theo staring directly at me still.
Ah shit he looks pissed.
I avoid eye contact with him because we all know that a mad Slytherin really isn’t someone you want to be around. Although I can’t help but wonder if he’s pissed at me for something. I never talk to his friends though so there shouldn’t be any problem.
I brush it off as Harry begins speaking.
“Alright. Um- could you hand me that knife?” I nod at his question, grabbing the blade next to me and handing it to him. He nods in appreciation.
Soon enough the potion is done and was a great success. Harry and I were really happy with how it turned out since this would be very important for our grade.
Harry and I smiled at each other and raised our arms, celebrating the victory. Harry’s hands make contact with mine in a double high five. At this I smile even bigger, entwining our hands before he pulls away.
We begin laughing as Ron groans, upset with how his potion was turning out. Hermione rolled her eyes before grinning at the Potter boy and I.
Harry had the greatest idea of standing up from his stool and pulling me to stand with him. Our hands were still locked as he began to make me dance with him. At first we were doing the waltz that we were taught for the Yule ball but after he spinned me, I came back to him and instead of having our hands together, he settled for placing his hands on my hips.
He began using his hands to guide my hips in a very different dance than the waltz.
My hands were around his neck as my hips swayed from the pressure of his hands. And honestly if we were at a party this would seem extremely sexual, but since it’s just Harry and I, it’s platonic fun.
Although it definitely brought yet another blush to my face, but I was like 100% sure that Harry didn’t like me. I think he’s just a very physical person when he becomes close with people.
The Professor looks over at us, staring us down as we both laugh before scrambling away from each other. Rushing to sit down before we got yelled at.
Once the Professor looks away, a note flies over and hits Harry in the glasses. He picks up the note with his eyebrows tensed in confusion. We both look over from where it came from and it was definitely from Theodore Nott.
The only way I could be sure is when I saw him motion for Harry to read the note.
I watch as Harry reads over the words. Clearly becoming more and more confused, stealing glances between me and the note.
“What is it? What’s it say?” I vocalize, inquisitively.
He shakes his head as if he were clearing an echa sketch. But instead of a drawing, he was clearing his thoughts.
“Ah- um- it’s nothing really.” Harry stutters, licking his bottom lip. Which I’ve become aware is one of his nervous signals.
His eyes connect with Theodore, who in return stares back. His stare is clearly more frightening since he has what I like to call “dead eyes”.
Those eyes are absolutely gorgeous but when the light fades from them when he’s pissed, it’s the most terrifying thing.
I make eye contact with Hermione, having a conversation with just our eyes. Asking about what’s happening seeing as the two boys look like they’re holding back to urge to jump the tables and punch each other in the face.
Granger shrugs.
I quickly try to gain control of the situation again by calling the brunettes name. “Harry?”
“Hm?” Instead of breaking eye contact with Nott, he just makes a hum of acknowledgment.
“What’s wrong? What did the note say?” I whisper to him, trying to cover our chat from Theodore.
Potter doesn’t make an effort to say anything, instead he throws the note in front of me to read. I pick up the note and begin reading from left to right.
“Back off from what I’ve been trying to claim.” Is the only sentence written on the piece of parchment.
My mouth drops open in surprise, my mind immediately drawing the dots together like Stiles does in teen wolf.
Man he’s a smart character. But also really stupid.
I get off track with my thinking, refocusing on the important thing at hand.
But honestly, I don’t care all that much. Is that a bad thing?
Now that I know why they’re both death glaring at each other, I can only feel my stomach erupt into butterflies.
I crumple up the note, trying to be sly as I slip it into my pocket but I see as Harry’s jaw clenches and Theo now has a shit eating grin on his face.
It lasts for a couple more seconds before Potter breaks eye contact first, scoffing at the Slytherin. Harry stands abruptly and turns to leave the classroom. Ron following after him as I hear the ginger exclaim, “Bloody hell mate!”
Hermione and I look at each other again, an expression on our faces that is making it very evident that we both thought that was attractive.
Like oh my god, two guys getting jealous and possessive over me.
Perhaps it is wrong to find it attractive but I love feeling wanted.
Class soon ends after that, Harry and Ron never returning back for anything. Hermione is left to pick up after them while I exit the class. Hermione agreed to cleaning up, knowing that my next class is basically across the school and with all the moving staircases and students. It’s just torture to arrive on time.
I walk as swiftly as I can, dodging people and walking between random people in order to reach my destination.
But before I reach my class, a hand is promptly placed on my upper back. I look over my shoulder to see Theodore standing tall over me. His hand still resting on the small of my back, showing his possessive and dominant side. Practically towering over me as he guides me over to a private area.
Which happened to be a janitor’s closet. He opened the door and gently but still roughly shoved me inside. He steps in after me, clicking the lock.
I was about to speak up but he cut me off.
“I want to make you mine.” He said with a completely straight face as he put it bluntly. His voice low and deep as he kept eye contact with me.
I froze with my eyes wide as a small smirk formed on his lips.
“What? Cats got your tongue, Amore Mio”
Oh okay that got me a little bit.
I feel a small wave of attraction wash over me, something so intense for just a moment it could visually be seen in my eyes.
“Oh oh ohhhh, you like it when I speak Italian don’t you, Dolcezza?” He inquires, his eyes searching my face for some kind of a reaction as a smile grows on him.
And the answer to that question is 1000% yes but why would I admit that???
Unfortunately my body betrays me as I swallow anxiously, giving him the flustered response he was hoping for.
He could literally be calling me a cunt in Italian and I wouldn’t know except based on his tone but I would still find it attractive.
His captivating eyes look down at my lips as he closes the space between us. He slowly looks back up into my eyes as he gets on his knees in front of me.
Oh I like that too.
Theo grabs my arm gently, placing a kiss on my inner wrist as he still keeps eye contact.
My stomach flips and I shuffle a little closer to him.
“Can I kiss you?” He questions, and holy shit I swear to god if he doesn’t look away I will because his eyes are literally hypnotic.
I nod but it’s not enough for him. His eyes are trained on me, pulling me down to be level with his height.
“Words.” Is all he says. Yet it’s such a powerful thing for me to hear right now.
“Yes, yes you can kiss me.” My face heats up, I turn my head away from him out of embarrassment. But he just grabs my face with his hands, aligning the kiss.
He hovers over my lips for a moment,
“If I wasn’t about to kiss you, I would’ve beat Harry bloody for the way he touched you.”
And just like that, our lips meet.
#slytherin boys#theo nott x y/n#theo nott x you#theodore nott x you#theo nott x reader#theodore nott x reader#yandere theodore nott#theodore nott#harry potter#possessive#stalker#yandere#lorenzo zurzolo
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
whipped - rafe cameron
summary: rafe totally isn't whipped for you
word count: 1.5k
warnings: just curse words
a/n: check out my most recent rafe fic !
"Alright, what the fuck is up with you?" Topper finally asked Rafe, grabbing onto his shoulder. "We're at a party surrounded by chicks and booze, and you're over here sitting alone looking like you're gonna kill yourself."
Rafe shook Topper’s hand off of him, smoothing out his sweatshirt that Topper had just grabbed onto, "get your hands off me, man."
Topper held his hands up, "I'm just worried about you, dude."
Rafe simply rolled his eyes, reaching down to the cooler by his chair to grab a beer. He cracked open the can and took a long sip, "happy now?"
Topper scoffed, "whatever, man. At least do a bump," he said, reaching into his back pocket.
Rafe shook his head, "I'm good."
"Oh come on," Topper started, beginning to pull out the plastic bag, only to be stopped by Rafe's grip on his arm.
"I said fucking no, Top. Jesus."
"Alright, alright," he said with a defeated sigh, turning to walk back toward the lively side of the party.
He stopped when he reached Kelce, putting a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. "Hey, you know what's been up with Rafe lately?"
Kelce shook his head a little, "whatchu mean?" he slurred.
Topper pointed back to wear Rafe was sitting in a chair, arms crossed, just staring straight in front of him, "look at the fucker. Offered him a bump and he said no. He's acting extra bitchy than normal."
Kelce shrugged his shoulders carelessly and started to walk away, but stopped abruptly when a thought entered his mind. "Y'know what it might be? That y/n chick isn't here," he said, eyes widened in realization.
Topper gave him a puzzled look, wracking his brain for any recognition of a y/n. "Who?"
Kelce rolled his eyes, "come on man. Y/n y/l/n. She was in a couple of our classes senior year. Rafe ran into her at that bonfire a couple weeks ago, remember? He was smiling and giggling and shit and blew us off when we asked him about it," Kelce only paused briefly before hitting Toppers chest, "yeah, yeah now that I think about it, he's in an oddly good mood when she's around, and extra douchebaggy when she's not. Shit's crazy, man," he said with a shake of his head.
Topper vaguely remembered the girl he was talking about. He thought for a moment, a plan forming in his slightly intoxicated mind. "You got her number?" he asked Kelce.
"I think. Here," he mumbled, shoving his phone against his chest before taking off toward the girl that had just called his name. If Rafe was actually whipped over this girl, Topper was going to figure it out.
After calling your number about seven times, he finally got an answer. "Jesus Christ Kelce, what do you want?" you'd asked, irritated tone evident in your voice.
"Heyyy y/n, this is Topper Thornton. What are you up to right now?" He asked in his nicest voice he could pull off.
Topper could practically hear you roll your eyes, "currently I'm wishing I'd never given my phone number to Kelce. What do you want?"
"I just wanted to invite you to this party I'm at right now," he said, only now realizing that he had no reason to back up this invitation without spoiling his plan. "It's uh- really fun. And I was just sitting here thinking, 'y/n y/l/n would really like this party'," he said, slapping his hand on his forehead at his own words.
On the other side of the phone, you were sitting in your car outside the party you could only assume Topper was talking about now. You were planning on attending the party from the jump, you'd just lost track of time watching TV. "What's so good about the party, Topper?" you played along for the fun of it.
"Uhh-" Topper thought for a little too long, "there's uh, beer?" He said, sounding unsure of his words.
You rolled your eyes, but composed yourself. "You know what, Top? You've convinced me. I'm on my way," you said with fake sincerity, smiling at your own acting.
"Really? Great, see ya," Topper hung up the phone, a proud smile on his face. Now all he had to do was watch and see if Kelce was right.
You opened your car door after a couple moments, and made your way inside the house. You squeezed through the crowd of people in the living room, trying to get to a less crowded area.
You stopped in the kitchen, scanning the room for your friend that had invited you. She was nowhere to be seen, so you opted to go get a drink first.
You grabbed a beer out of the cooler, sipping it slowly as you leaned against the kitchen counter, still looking around the room for your friend. Your eyes landed on a familiar figure sitting on a chair outside, only visible through the glass doors. You smiled a little, immediately walking toward the back door.
"You look like you're having fun, Cameron," you said once you reached him, sitting down on the table in front of him, your knees touching his.
Rafe's lips twitched into an immediate smile, eyes lighting up at the sight of you. He leaned forward a little so he could hear you over the voices of everyone around you, "hey, how long have you been here?"
"Just got here. Why? You been looking for me?" You asked with a smirk, putting your free hand out to shove his shoulder lightly.
Rafe looked down, an involuntary red flush starting on his cheeks. "Course not," he waved the accusation off quickly, in a comically unconvincing tone. "But I am glad you're here. These parties bore the hell out of me."
"Oh come on, Rafe Cameron bored at a party?" your eyes flickered down to the beer in his hand. You grabbed it from him, eyes widening at the realization it was nearly full, "and not even drinking a beer?" You questioned.
Your eyebrow raised as Rafe simply shrugged, "just not feeling it recently, I guess. The last party I actually had fun at was Kelce's a couple weeks ago, remember?" his smile widened as he spoke, "when we absolutely demolished everyone at beer pong."
You laughed with a nod, "course I remember. You're the best pong partner I've had in years," you said truthfully, a smile plastered on your face.
Rafe's expression turned impossibly more bright, eyes lighting up at the sight of your smile and the angelic sound of your laugh. He tore his eyes from you after a moment, so he could actually form words. "Do you uh- have any plans for later tonight?"
You opened your mouth to say something, but all that came out was a shriek as cold liquid splashed on your shoulder and down your back. You stood up abruptly, wringing out your now beer-soaked shirt.
"Oh shit," a guy slurred from beside you, "my bad."
Topper got up quickly from his chair across the room after witnessing the incident, starting to move toward the two of you. He had just happened to look over just as- okay fine, he was watching intently the whole time.
He prepared himself as he walked to pull Rafe off of the guy that had just soaked you in beer - no doubt in his mind that Rafe would start a fight.
Rafe stood up from his chair quickly, only spending half a second sending a glare toward the drunk idiot who'd done this. He placed his hands on your shoulders, “are you alright?” he asked, worried eyes scanning over you.
Topper's eyes narrowed as he watched Rafe turn his attention fully to you, as the drunk guy stumbled back into the house. He watched intently as the rest of the scene played out, completely opposite from what he expected.
You laughed, nodding your head. “I’m good, I just reek of Bud Light now,” you glanced down at your shirt, “and I look ridiculous,” you said with a chuckle.
Rafe quickly unzipped his jacket, shrugging it off of his shoulders and placing it loosely over yours, "what an asshole," he muttered.
You slipped your arms into the sleeves, chuckling a little at how they fell so far past your hands. You rolled the sleeves up a little, and zipped up the sweatshirt. “Thanks, Rafe. My hero,” you said with a grateful smile.
Rafe’s grin widened uncontrollably at your words, and he quickly tried to shake the giddy feeling off of him, "you uh- you wanna go inside? It looks a little less crowded in there.”
You nodded, slipping your hand into his as you navigated through the crowd of people together.
Topper let out a shocked breath as he watched you and Rafe walk through the doors and out of his sight. "Well I’ll be damned," he muttered to himself with a shake of his head, "he is whipped."
taglist (message me to be added!): @rafes-bae @willowpains @maybankslover @housekeeperjjswife
REQUESTS OPEN!!
check out my obx masterlist and most recent fic
#rafe cameron#rafe#rafe fanfiction#rafe x reader#rafe outer banks#rafe x you#rafe smut#rafe x y/n#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe obx#rafe cameron imagines#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron fluff#outer banks x reader#obx fic#obx cast#obx netflix#obx imagine#outer banks#jj maybank#sarah cameron#john b#obx#obx jj maybank#obx smut#drew starkey smut#drew starkey imagines#drew starkey icons
7K notes
·
View notes
Note
hey, totally ok if it’s not ur vibe, but i’d love to see an oscar fic where he’s helping his girlfriend or a childhood best friend when she’s feeling a bit down.
i keep thinking about that man helping clean a depression room and telling his girl not to be embarrassed and he’s there to help and they get it sorted and he just holds her. makes sure she’s eaten and drank something.
even if it’s just a drabble, i’d really appreciate it :) need that kinda care in my life rn, even if it’s fictional.
I made this girlfriend because it just felt softer idk
To Be Loved Is To Be Seen (OP81)
Summary: Oscar knows his girlfriend well and it’s obvious to him when she starts breaking down. He’s happy to help or, more specifically, remind her how worth it she is.
Warnings: this one is HEAVY on the family trouble, depression, anxiety, VERY ANGSTY but def cutest HAPPY ENDING
Note: i didn’t know if you wanted reader to be in a rut or have a reason for it so i just made a reason
Y/n’s first few months of university were hard. Not only was it due to the new course load, but also because of her parents lack of interest when it came to her life. It had been a gradual shift, starting from her last two years in high school and only getting stronger as time went on. They had always been there, overbearing at times, but, now, they posted pictures of their trips around the world, failing to answer her calls and texts. She felt selfish for wanting her parents’ attention as much as she did, but it was hard to fight. There were situations she had never dealt with before, she wanted her mom’s wise words and father’s funny remarks to get through it all. But, she sat alone in the darkness of her room without the guidance counselor she usually could count on. It felt as if she wasn’t enough to keep them there anymore. It was heart wrenching and it stewed within her at such volumes, it became too much.
That’s when Oscar noticed. Her boyfriend had always been attentive, noticing small things about her that no one else did, but the second her smile didn’t reach her eyes and her text messages became less frequent, it was almost as if he was staring her down in anticipation of some sort of sign. He didn’t begin to realize it was related to her parents until he caught a glimpse of her phone when they were together, the screen open to her conversations with her mother and all of the recent texts going completely unanswered. He knew she had always had a rocky relationship with them, but she spoke about them with such respect, he knew it would’ve bothered her to feel so unimportant.
Knocking on her door, his hands clutched the bag of her favorite food he had got on his walk to her apartment. He had planned this evening out for weeks, not telling her about it in worry that she would slip into a facade put together with a fake smile that made his skin crawl.
She opened it, her body tense and tired in a ratty shirt and shorts, “Oscar? What are you doing here?”
It was as if he saw her front go up, her posture straightening and that haunting smile which told him all too well how much pain she was in. He smiled softly, “I thought we could spend the night together.”
She closed the door enough to only peek her head through, “Osc, I’m so sorry, but I can’t tonight. I’m so busy.”
He stayed put, “That’s okay. I can wait on your couch.”
“No, Osc,” She said firmly, her face turning in the light and exposing the dark bags under her eyes.
He stepped closer to her, putting his hand on the door and looking down at her with a look that made her feel loved, “Y/n, let me in. I know you’re going through it. Let me be with you.”
Her resolve cracked, her smile dropping for a second and water suddenly pooling in her eyes, “You don’t want to come in here.”
He leaned against the door and cupped her cheek, “It won’t make me love you any less.”
With a sigh, Y/n pushed the door open, beckoning the boy into her home. He knew what to expect, he knew what it was like to reach the place she was in. So, when he saw the piles of clothes, half-eaten food on the counter with old dishes in the sink, and her little accessories put in the wrong places, something she would never usually do, he wasn’t surprised. If anything, he was happy she had let him in, literally and figuratively.
She picked at her nails beside him, swaying on her feet as she analyzed his every move. Part of her was trying to ready herself for him to walk out the door, give up on her because of whatever stood before them, but he gently set the food on the floor and ushered her into his embrace. His cheek laid against the top of her head, nestled in her hair, as he tightened his grip around her body. She smelled his cologne and felt his sweatshirt which made him feel all the more warm. There was something about his presence, she would later learn it was how safe she felt, that made the turmoils of her mind quiet as she began to cry. Y/n had promised herself that she wouldn’t cry for people who clearly didn’t care, but as Oscar rubbed her back and whispered how much he loved her, she realized it was never going to work.
Her breaking down wet the material of his sweatshirt, but Oscar just held her tighter, whispering how it was going to be okay and this would all pass.
“You’re so worth it all, Y/n,” He whispered, pecking the top of her ear as he smoothed down her hair.
She clutched his back before Oscar was moving her hands under his hoodie to feel the bare of his skin. He knew she loved that. And she did. Y/n’s tears began to dissipate as he told her why he was there.
“I’m with you in this. You aren’t alone. I’m here for you and I always will be. This,” He gestured to the space around them, holding her face in his hands and forcing her eyes to meet his, “doesn’t scare me at all, love. What does scare me, though, is the attempts at eating on the counter. Have you been eating other than that?”
She shook her head, “I tried. It’s too hard. I’m not hungry ever anymore.”
He titled his head with a small frown, “Well, maybe your favorite food will help, yeah? We’ll sit together and eat. We can go as slow as you want, or as fast. All up to you, baby.”
He kissed her forehead lightly before guiding her to the living room, one of the less dirty places, and setting her down on the cushions. He set it all behind him, not wanting to overwhelm her with everything he got, and took out what he knew she would want first. There was a dull sparkle in her eyes when he handed it to her, his heart lifted. It hadn’t been there when he first arrived.
She opened it slowly, eyeing the food she once ravished in seconds, and taking a utensil to pick at it. He looked at her, waiting patiently for her to take a bite. When she did, however small, he did too. When she did again, he did too.
She stopped, “Why aren’t you eating faster?”
He smiled, “Because I’ll take a bite when you do. I don’t mind, Y/n. I told you I’m in this with you.”
Her eyes gloss over as they dart between him and the food before taking another bite, giggling a bit when Oscar takes one of his own dish. She eats, he does too and their eyes never leave each other, offering unspoken support.
When the plastic boxes are gone and empty, Oscar has glasses of water randomly appearing in his grip, offering them to his girlfriend who has found herself tangled in that soft blanket he got her last Christmas. Her cheeks are a soft pink from the warmth of it coupled with the candle he lit in the midst of their dinner and she smiles when the cool liquid flows down her throat. Oscar stands over her, hands in his pockets and wondering how anyone could possibly ignore her texts. He wants to take a picture of her, remind her parents of the beauty they have in their reach. But, he also knows that any text he sends to them wouldn’t be one he should send to his potential (very likely) in-laws. So, he stays quiet and looks at her with the love she deserves.
“Do you need anything else?” He asks, pushing the hair out of her face.
She shakes her head, “No, I’m good. What movie do you want to watch?”
He kisses her cheek, “It’s up to you. I won’t be watching.”
Her eyebrows knot together and she cocks her head, “Why not? Is this some random pickup line where you’re going to tell me how you’ll only be watching me?”
He laughs, his head back, as he walks toward her room, “No, but that’s a good one. I’ll keep that for later. You put on whatever you want, baby. I’ll be cleaning.”
She crawls to the corner of the couch, watching him begin to pick up her room, “Clean? What? Why?”
He stops, turning around to look at her through the door, “Because I want to help you feel better and I know your apartment is stressing you out. You shouldn’t have to worry, love. Just relax. I’ll be done in a few hours.”
Her mouth is agape as he moves throughout her room, putting things away as if he knows where everything goes. He does, apparently. And when the shock of it wears off, a smile cements itself on her face as she turns on a random movie. She enjoys the soft humming of Oscar in the other room, answering his occasional question about the plot of the movie she’s watching. When he moves to the kitchen, out in the open and available to see what’s on the screen, Y/n falls asleep to the picture of her boyfriend doing her dishes and taking out her trash. Falling asleep with a warm heart mended by someone that has always loved her unconditionally.
—
She’s awoken by the feeling of soft mattress beneath her and Oscar’s arms heavy around her torso. He’s deep in sleep when she opens her eyes, has her completely enveloped in his grasp on her side. The room is dark, the window open and allowing for a cold breeze to flow through the room. She loves it. It’s cold outside, but Oscar keeps her warm. Her hands move their way up to his head, playing with his hair and staring at the man who has treated her so gently.
Tears fall down her face all so suddenly, sniffling lightly but still waking Oscar in the process.
He’s immediately worried, “What’s wrong?”
Her head drops to his chest, “I just love you so much and can’t tell you how much it meant to me that you stayed here even after seeing the state everything was in, including me.”
His soft hands leave her body and pull her face up to him. His eyes are dilated as he looks at her, “I would’ve done it yesterday and I’ll do it for the rest of our lives. I don’t want you to struggle alone. You don’t deserve that. You’ve done too much of that before you met me.”
If only her younger self could see her now. A younger girl worried she’d never find a man who loved her by seeing her now wholly adored by someone who didn’t just see her, but understood her too. She doesn’t even need to utter the problem, he already knows and she’s caught on to that since the moment he showed up at her door. His carefully chosen words about her worth and how easy it is to love her were all strategically placed in order to fix the cracks deep in her soul that have come undone at the hands of her parents.
“It’s just upsetting that they only loved me.” She whispers and for a second, Oscar doesn’t understand what she’s saying. But, the tense of her words dawns on him and the look on her face unleashes anger in his body. Loved. It’s upsetting that her parents loved her. They no longer do in her eyes. She once had parental support, love, but it’s obvious how transactional, conditional it was now. She got a taste of what it was like to be loved by them, but it was taken away when she needed it the most. She had mentioned to him before that growing up, she felt as if they used her presence to shy away from the problems of their marriage. When she was out of the house, she thought they would separate, but the opposite has happened. She served her purpose, now they throw money at trips to fill the void of what they have refused to face. Disregarded and thrown away, that’s the implications of what she’s confided.
He nods, tears in his eyes, “It’s so unfair of them to treat you this way. They’re your parents. They should be there for you, but they have never known how to love and you were just an unnecessary victim in it all.”
She wipes the moisture from her face, “I should just move on from the way they’ve treated me. I should give them grace because they’re my parents. I should just make peace with it all because this will never be fixed in the way I want it. But, I can’t.”
Oscar kisses the top of her head, “It’s okay that you can’t. That’s completely understandable. Giving grace just because they’re your family members isn’t right, Y/n. Just because there’s a blood relation doesn’t mean you can excuse their behavior. They’re your parents and they have neglected you for ages. You can’t keep giving everything to them, only to get nothing in return. Parents or not, you distance yourself from people who bring you down as much as they do.”
More tears smear against his chest, “But, they’re my parents, Osc.”
It’s as if he doesn’t know what to say because he knows how much she praises their drive and determination, giving her a life of privilege. Though, he stands firm on the idea that no one should be given a second chance if they “love” this way.
“I know, Y/n, and it’s so horrible that you’ve been put in this situation, but I think it would do you some good to let go of a part of them. You’ll go home and see them for birthdays, Christmases, but, in the time between, you don’t have to chase after them. You can find love in other things, happiness in other things. I’ll even do some of it with you. We can take up painting classes like you always wanted, walks in that park down the street that you love, studying in coffee shops, and watching the sunset. Life without them can be freeing.”
He’s right, she thinks. Life without them will be freeing. But, the story of letting go is never easy and finding yourself flipping to past chapters to hold onto something that isn’t there anymore is usual.
However, as she lays tangled in the limbs of Oscar, she finds future chapters to be more exciting, more fulfilling. Her whole life is ahead of her, one including Oscar, and that sudden revelation fills her with an overwhelming relief. His listing of all the things she loves, wants to try desperately reminds her just how in love with her he is. Every action of hers is noted by him and she’s spent years begging for that from her parents. She never got it, but maybe that was because something else softer lied in the cards for her. At times, her parents needed her, but they would always need something else more. Glamorous, shiny, new things that would satisfy them for a time. She would never be enough in the minds of them, but in the mind of Oscar, she was more than enough. It was clear she was everything to him.
A life with him would be different from the one handed to her on a broken, rusty platter. She wanted that with him and the way he looked at her told her he did too. Letting go of the dismissal of people she has killed herself for to make proud was maybe for the best, pushed her in the direction of focusing on Oscar and everything she’s ever wanted. Was this her mending old, deep wounds?
Loved and cherished, she found sleep once more, rejuvenated with hope and a sense of moving on.
#mclaren#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#oscar pia#oscar piastri fanfiction#oscar piasstri#oscar piastri imagines#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri smut#oscar piastri x reader#op81#op#op81 x reader#op81 imagine#op81 fluff#op81 fic#op81 x you#op81 smut#op81 angst
383 notes
·
View notes
Text
Kim Seokjin Fic Recs
‼️18+ minors DNI, if you choose to anyways, PLEASE be careful. try to heed our warnings, we have them for a reason‼️
More Recs Here
he’s insanely good looking your honour
[not in any particular order] [if any users would like me to remove their post from this list please let me know and i will do so immediately!]
thank you daddy @ktheist 19k
sugar daddy!seokjin, WHEEWWW, small angst, hella smut tho LOLL, 9 YEAR AGE GAP!, they’re both horny fucks,
fast lane @yminie 20.6k
racer!seokjin, enemies2lovers, angst, smut !!!!!short depictions of car accidents!!!!!, jin is a PLAYA, reader really hates his guts LOLL
cherry topper @kth1 17.6k
friends2lovers, longtime pining, college!au, reader works at his family’s candy shop :)) fluff, angst, SMUT, reader is dense as hell LOLL
every year @another-army-spot 15.6k
childhood bff2L, chef!seokjin, a yearly new year’s eve party!!, hard fluff, smutty angst, they both grew up hella rich.
final sleigh @floralseokjin 23.3k
coworkers, e2l, reader very much hates seokjin LOLLL, forced proximity fanfic 🤭🤭 smut, fluff(?), angst in Y/N is petty LMAO, it’s christmas!
stuck with you @taleasnewastime 29.6k
strangers2lovers, reader is grumpy :(, they’re stuck in a city they don’t want to be in, Jin is a raining ball of sunshine, angst, smut, fluff, angst. happy ending :)
MENTIONS OF DEATH!
small tuna fish @floralseokjin 17.1k
college!au, jin is a GOOD nice guy, he’s so jinny, FLUFF x10000, smut too LOL, jin is a cutie, he’s inexperienced, there’s a charity car wash too 🤪
warm this winter @jamaisjoons 51.6k
s2l, this was so cute, jk is such a dumbass, but it’s okay seokjin is here to save the day. fluff, angst, SMUT. it just smacks u in the fuckin face.
lost and found @taleasnewastime 21.2k
s2l, seokjin owns a silly lil shop cuz he’s a silly lil guy, reader was cheated on, fluff, angst, they’re so cute. jimin is there too! oneshot.
you guys don’t understand how fucking much i love this story. i’ve re-read it more times than i can count. i think about this Jin once a week
made up love song @floralseokjin series
dilf!seokjin, teacher!reader, arin is saur cute, angsty :(, but fluffy!!! n very smutty, lots of fluff with arin, seokjins ex >:(
turn back time @raplinesmoon 13.3k
seokjin accidentally fast forwards time, smut, angsty fluff, reader is a doctor, JIN POPS A SEMI 💀💀💀💀
sit. stay. @daechwitatamic 14k
dog owners!!!, they live in the same building, jin just wants to help MC, miscommunication :(, fluff, angst, smut, more fluff. literally. cuz dogs. i love this jinnie sooo much
the ikea test @yoon-bug 9.1k
they’re dating, hoseok was right 💀, reader gets upset with seokjin, jin saves the day!!, and then screws the HELL out of MC, so.. smut, fluff too :)
last november @kithtaehyung 24.7k 😭😭
god. exes2l, angst and um oh more angst, smut, all ends well, they’re on a holiday trip with tha gang.
ryen NEVER misses. masterpiece after masterpiece.
the platonic collection @joheunsaram mini series
FWB2L, MC is kinda… she’s kinda dense LOL, seokjin is a cutie, smut, fluff
off limits @floralseokjin series
brothers best friend!seokjin, they’re hiding :(, FWB2L, angst angst angst, yoongi gets puNCHED, smut, readers brother is overprotective, lil fluff
don’t go baking my heart @candlewaxandp0lar0ids 14.7k
i don’t think u understand i love this seokjin. JK is a cutie, S2L, jinnie owns a bakery and is the master of puns, kinda angsty, fluff, they’re also IDIOTS. lil smut
cupids on holiday @persphonesorchid 17k
cupid!seokjin, fluff, angst :(, smut, E2L?? ily jin. but i HATE U. but ily.
all i don’t want for christmas is you @minisugakoobies 23.7k
coworkers AU!, E2L, crack, fluff, smut, jin has a big… ego.. y’all. Y/N pisses me the hell off, but they’re SO CUTE 😭
glazed and dazed @floralseokjin 30.3k
um. PORNSTAR SEOKJIN. thank you that’s all, jk, seokjin ☹️, obviously smut, but they’re fluffy n cute i promise.
the devil wears armani @floralseokjin 65k series
WHEW this one is a doozy, devil!jin, jimin is there too, very much smut smut smut, angsty, fluffy, seokjin has a soft spot.
like i said at the end of my last fic rec post, if any of you have recommendations for me, please send them through!! my inbox is OPEN and i am always looking for more things to read!!! 🫶🫶
#bts#bts x reader#bts smut#bts fic recs#bts fic#bts fic rec#seokjin fanfic#jin x reader#seokjin x reader#jin fluff#jin smut#seokjin fluff#seokjin smut#bts oneshot#bts fanfction#bts fanfic#fic rec#birdyrants#seokjin fanfiction#jin fanfiction#방탄
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
FAVE HP SMUT CREATORS
Ever since I got that lovely anon asking for the best smut I've ever read, it got me thinking about some of my favorite smut creators in general.
So here is a very non-exhaustive list of fan-fucking-tastic smut writers and artists I've come across in the HP fandom that weren't mentioned (shamefully) in my last batch. Feel free to add to the list! We must keep the people fed.
xoxo go take a sip of cold water girl
WRITERS
@spookymoonie
Lord Espooky came into this fandom guns a-blazing with their kink headcanon a day for Wolfstar and it has spiraled from there. They GET IT. He has a super well-organized masterlist pinned to his tumblr ft tons of different kinks, fic lengths, scenes, etc. Go. Now.
@fiveht
The definition of IYKYK. Daddy kink isn't super my thing, but Five makes me enjoy it. If you vibe with age gap daddy Remus and pretty boy Sirius, their Adore series is a must-read.
They also have a stellar A/B/O Wolfstar fic plus podfic and write some Marvel too!
@greenvlvetcouch
An absolute legend in this fandom. Wolfstar, Jeggy, Rosekiller. Gritty, chewy, embodied sex.
@emeryhall
Emery writes sex the way some people breathe. Like it's just part of the narrative. It's SO punchy. And also she is the queen of Crack Smut.
@kaaaaaaarf
Patron saint of Wolfstar hatefucks. mic drop.
@cancerravenclaw
We snagged MK over to Wolfstar from the clutches of Dramione. Her series "mk's kink exposé" could also be called "celine's kink exposé." I'll just leave that there.
@wolfpants
Everything they create is magic, but they are especially known for rare pairs and Dronarry.
WRITERS AND ARTISTS
@aspiring-artist-em
The queen of Lesbian Wolfstar. Both art and fic. Also queen of humiliation and pain kink and Walburga psychological trauma. ye be warned.
@upthehillnsfw / @upthehillart
I am afraid no one is ready for this art. Truly. Tons of different ships, positions, acts. I gasp every time. And their Pansmione fic is epic (which I have talked about before).
ARTISTS
@industrations
I highly recommend getting on Indi's Patreon so you can enjoy their NSFW drawings, mostly Wolfstar and Jegulus, occasional Rosekiller. Too many iconic moments to count.
@waxingrunes
The officially-sponsored artist of Five's Adore series. Look, their work is nothing short of indulgent. Shhhh don't worry about the physics just let it happen. And by It I mean Remus' big dick hands.
@basiatlu
By beloved. The one. The only. Bosh's drawings are so ALIVE. They leap off the screen. Her Drarry is nothing less than iconic. She also dabbles in other characters/ships like Wolfstar and Blackcest. Siriusly, you can't go wrong.
DRARRY SMUT
OKAY, Drarry people. There are so so many excellent Drarry smut writers it is impossible to name them all. Here are but a tiny handful I have pulled from my bookmarks. I'm happy to rec specific fics if asked :)
@cavendishbutterfly, @bixgirl1, @l0vegl0wsinthedark, @shiftylinguini, @kbrick, @fluxweeed, @academicdisasterfic
MORE
I'm tagging those other creators from older asks because I can't put this list out there without them on it <3
@crushofdoves @we-are-swearwolves @tenthousandyearsx @theresthesnitch @lqtraintracks Quietlemonhush @cuddlebugsirius
#celine spills#celine's library#smut recs#hp smut#wolfstar smut#drarry smut#jegulus smut#HI FRIENDS i love you all#celine's flirting again#fic recs#hp fic recs#fan art#hp fanart#wolfstar art#drarry art#jegulus art
530 notes
·
View notes
Text
rebound and restoration
pairing: choi yeonjun x fem reader | genre / tropes: angst -> fluff, friends to lovers, post-breakup, non-idol au; ft. soobin + mentions of the rest of txt; reader is yeonjun's age (soobin calls reader "noona") | word count: 5.4k | warnings: post-breakup heartbreak, profanity, food, kissing
additional note: fic is mostly written but contains a few texts
summary: with his heart still aching after just getting dumped, yeonjun turns to you, one of his closest friends, for comfort. that is, until he kisses you - and your friendship starts to change.
author's notes: honestly i feel like if i don't post this soon i'll be dissatisfied with it forever and edit it endlessly and it'll never get past my drafts LOL perfect is the enemy of done!! anyway i wrote this while i was feeling stressed and insane during the holidays and wanted... an angsty kiss for whatever reason. lmao yeah
(support by reblogging banner by @cafekitsune)
when yeonjun arrives at your apartment, it’s still early in the evening; the two bowls of pho you ordered for takeout are still hot, and you’ve left your laptop open at a selection of cheesy netflix rom-coms. perhaps the selection is a bit ironic, but you mused that the feel-good escapism is just what he needs.
he pulls you into a hug and you give him an extra squeeze and a few pats on the back. you can’t help but ruffle his hair a little as he pulls away.
“hey, jjun...”
“y/n!”
“how are you feeling?”
“ah, a bit better, i think.”
he gives you a slight smile, and you’re too relieved to notice that it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. it’s a miracle to you that he’s even smiling again two weeks after his breakup. you still remember the cracks in his voice when he called you after it had happened, the rims of his eyes red with crying when he finally crashed at your place half an hour later. that night you held him tight as he told the story to you in between sobs: hana had broken up with him over a call that lasted less than a minute. she was bored and tired of him and just stopped caring, she said, if he were a toy she could throw away if she didn’t want to play with it anymore.
you swallowed back the anger in your throat back then, though you couldn’t help the tears of your own that fell. now you push the anger back down again as you lead yeonjun to the small table at your kitchenette, one of the bowls of pho steaming in front of him. now is not the time for indignation; your friend needed comfort, and it’s comfort you will give.
yeonjun’s eyes light up at the sight of the pho. your heart swells, and you don’t hold it against him when he sits down ahead of you and picks up his chopsticks, ready to dig in. in between slurps he grins like he’s just received the best present of his life. “this is so good!” he said in between mouthfuls of noodles. “it’s been way too long since i had this.”
“i know! feels like we haven’t had this in ages.”
“remember when we tried to make our own?”
“oh god, not that!” you laugh, dropping your chopsticks. “we got impatient and that broth tasted like nothing.”
“your kitchen smelled like ginger though,” yeonjun recalls with a giggle. “it was nice visiting for a while.”
“my kitchen smelled like ginger more than the actual broth, jjun.”
“maybe we can try again one of these days? and if we mess up, at least you’ll have a nice-smelling kitchen again.”
all you can do in response is laugh, and for a moment you forget that you stopped having pho nights together when hana entered his life.
he fills you in on video game night with soobin and kai, shopping with beomgyu, and his so-called revenge gym day with taehyun; he beams with pride while describing his new weight record just as much as he does when talking about managing a hard-earned victory over soobin at tekken. you laugh along with him, knowing that his friends blocked out their schedules just to comfort him for a day. and when you talk about your new project at work and the new books you bought yourself as a treat, his eyes fill with that indescribable look you’ve seen before. you can’t quite place what it is, but it reminds you of afternoon light, of summer days, of lingering hugs after a long day together.
you don’t need to ask for yeonjun to help you clear out the table and pick up the snacks you set aside for your movie, and you make no effort to resist. there are no words exchanged: he simply places all the disposable pho bowls and chopsticks together, and you reach for a clean garbage bag and put them all in. the only communication between you is a shared look and a nod.
perhaps it’s just your imagination, but that look lingers a little longer than you’re used to, and you can’t help but give him a satisfied smile.
you’ve seen him look at hana that way, too many times to count, especially during that early-dating phase when the thrill of emotions was still high. you wondered what it was like to be on the receiving end of that gaze, for yeonjun to look at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. and you wondered if hana really was that precious 一 if she were just as precious to him as you, his best friend, if not more so.
you let yeonjun select the movie. at first you doubt your idea to present him with rom-coms, of all things, but you let out a sigh of relief when he happily chooses one of them. both of you have seen this one many times over, but you don’t mind. there’s comfort in knowing that a happy ending is guaranteed to happen.
the two of you are slouched on your couch together, the laptop balanced on a pillow between the both of you. yeonjun sits close to you, an arm around your shoulder, a gesture that he hasn’t done with you since he started dating. you let yourself lean against him (so that you can see the screen better, you tell yourself). the two of you start a running commentary on the movie 一 “why would he say that?!” “aww, they look so cute together,” “oh god, that was so stupid!” 一 and both of your laughter fills the apartment, the sound like a duet in harmony.
it’s so easy this way, you think 一 just you and your best friend in your own little corner of the world. you steal a glance at yeonjun while he’s absorbed in the final confession scene, a soft smile on his lips and his eyes gleaming with anticipation for the big kiss. a string of memories flash before you before you can help yourself.
“she said yes,” he says, his whole face flush with excitement. “she said she’ll be mine.”
his hands are on your shoulders and he gives them a gentle squeeze. “there’s no way hana can’t like you. you’re one of my best friends, i’ll make sure you get along.”
“i think hana’s mad at me,” he tells you as he fiddles with the beanie in his hands. “but don’t worry about it, we’ll talk it out, i promise.”
his head is in his hands as you sit across him from a restaurant booth. “i don’t know what i did wrong, she looked so bored through the whole date...”
you hold him close as he sobs in your arms, his whole body shaking. “sh-she said she’s... tired of me…”
“y/n?”
you snap back to reality as yeonjun glances at you, his head tilted. the ending credits of the movie have started to play. “are you okay?”
“i-i’m fine.” you reach out to touch his cheek, then hesitate. “are you okay?”
“i’m fine, y/n.” he picks up on the meaning of your words. “i know i looked really bad that night, but i’m getting better, i promise.”
“good.” your eyes meet his, and your cheeks grow warm. “we can have nights like this as many times as you want until you feel better, okay?”
“yeah, i know. i missed having nights like this, actually.”
“me too. i really liked it when we did this all the time...”
“i know. i’m sorry. hana didn’t like一”
“hey.” your hand comes up again and this time, you gently hold on to his cheek. “it doesn’t matter what she thinks anymore.”
“y/n... i’m really sorry. i feel like i neglected you, and you’ve been my friend for so long...”
tears form in his eyes, and you feel them warm against his cheek. you wipe them away with your thumb as you move closer to him. he continues to ramble as you do.
“i feel like an idiot. like a total dumbass.” the pitch of his voice begins to rise. “god, i was so convinced that hana and i were the perfect couple, that we’d be happy. i-i thought about her more than she d-did about me, y/n, and i stopped hanging out with you一 when you’ve always一”
“jjun, please don’t apologize anymore,” you say, your voice trembling. “i’ve never been mad at you over her, not even once. i just want you to feel better, okay? i... i just want to see you be yourself again.”
you want to see the yeonjun you’ve always loved.
you’ve lain awake at night wondering if he’s ever sensed your feelings for him, and if he’s ever felt the same way. on the day he told you that he and hana were officially together, you spent that night sobbing in your bed, convinced that your friend would never see you as a lover. and yet you said nothing of that night, and of other nights similar to it, because you told yourself that if hana made him happy, then you would be happy too.
and now you want more than anything to see him happy again.
yeonjun says nothing, but instead places a hand on top of the one you have resting on his cheek. you feel it trembling, but you don’t resist as he grasps your hand to intertwine his fingers with yours. he swallows hard to push back the rest of his tears, and his eyes soften. once again there’s that indescribable look of his that makes you feel light.
“y/n...”
he says your name softly, as if in reverence. his face inches closer to yours and you don’t pull away; instead you feel lighter than ever, your gaze falling to his lips as your eyes flutter shut. everything that follows feels slow, gentle; his nose brushing against yours, then your lips on his.
he kisses you slowly at first, but as you kiss him back you fill with a new fervor, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting him wrap his arms around your waist to pull your body flush against his. warmth blooms in your chest, and every movement of yours betrays your feeling: your lips moving against his, your hands making their way into his hair. you want to kiss him until the pain he feels has been replaced by the love you have for him 一 i love you, i love you, i love you.
you’re completely absorbed in him and let out a soft sigh when yeonjun snaps out of it 一 he breaks apart from you, breathing hard, eyes wide as he’s hit by what he’s just done.
“shit, y/n一” he gets off the couch, one hand running through his hair over and over again. “i’m so sorry. fuck, i shouldn’t have done that一”
you’re snapped out of your trance as you stand up to chase after him. “jjun, hey, wait! listen to me—”
he’s picking up his bag from the foot of your couch. he can’t even look at you, instead occasionally letting out a shit or two under his breath.
“yeonjun, please一”
you stand in front of him to block his way from the exit. at first his head is bowed, avoiding your gaze, but when he finally looks up his expression is solemn.
“you are not a rebound to me,” he says at last. “please don’t ever think that i just used you to make me feel better.”
“i never accused you of that! look, i’m sorry too, it was my fa一”
“i’m really sorry, but i can’t stay here anymore. i’ll make it up to you, y/n, i promise.”
“wait一”
yeonjun walks past you and before you can protest any further, he’s out your door. you push it open and try to chase after him, but after a few steps you stop, thinking better of it. what would stopping him even do?
you walk back inside and slump back down on the couch. the screen of your laptop faintly glows, and a half-eaten bag of chips has fallen to the floor. all at once the reality of what happens sinks into you: the kiss, his words, his departure.
you are not a rebound to me. the words echo in your mind.
a strange tension fills you, and you can’t even tell what emotion it’s supposed to be from: confusion, frustration, anxiety. with your whole body seemingly on edge, you grab a throw pillow from the opposite side of your couch and press it into your face.
you sob into it the tension crashes down on you in full force.
一
for the next few nights the scene replays in your dreams: yeonjun leaning in ever closer towards you, your lips meeting his in a fervent kiss 一 each night’s dream-kiss more fervent than the last 一 and him suddenly pulling away. you awaken each time just as he breaks the kiss, the shock and confusion coursing through you again, and immediately after you reach for your bedside table to check your phone.
still no text from yeonjun.
you consider texting him again, but each time you type a new message you erase it, the blinking cursor driving you mad. how would you even know what to say? do you want to apologize? to beg for his forgiveness? to ask if you can still be friends?
you hate to admit it, but every morning you lie in bed for a few moments more to allow the dream to sink in. the look on yeonjun’s face appears vivid to you, from his eyes blown wide to his mouth slightly agape. your mind travels back to the moment he breaks the kiss, as if a sudden force pushed him away, the shock of it hitting you. then it wanders to the kiss itself, the feeling of his lips soft against your own, his arms warm as they hold you by the waist…
you shake the memory away, drag yourself out of bed, and continue on with your routine: breakfast, shower, get dressed. you resist the urge to check your phone for as long as you can. you stare at the little contact photo you set of yeonjun and remind yourself: you’re his friend. you need to help him heal.
you recount your worries to soobin over snacks one day.
“i feel like i’m being selfish,” you say in between munches of potato chips. “he hasn’t even moved on from hana”— soobin winces at the acridity you mutter her name with—“and now one of his closest friends kisses him like she’s madly in love. how is he supposed to move on? he’s hurting enough as it is.”
soobin sets aside the bag of chips you just finished. he rubs his face with his hands as he tries to choose his words carefully.
“you’re not being selfish, noona. you sound like you’re trying to be careful so that you don’t hurt him,” he says at last. “and yeonjun hyung feels just as bad about it. he feels bad that he even started the kiss, and for making you feel like a rebound. you two sound like each other, to be honest.”
“i know he feels bad, it’s just 一 i don’t know how that will fix...” you wave your hands wildly in the air, “this.”
“you can start by talking to each other?”
“he didn’t reply to my last texts. and i… i don’t know if i should text him again.”
a moment of silence. soobin opens a pack of candy and chews on it, just to give himself time to think. he fiddles with his phone as he does, absentmindedly scrolling through his old texts, when one of them catches his eye.
“so, there’s this new restaurant that beomgyu wants to check out.”
“really, soobin, what does this have to—”
“he was thinking of inviting all of us there to hang out,” he continues. “including you and yeonjun hyung. we can plan for it a week or two from now so that you have space? and then you can get used to talking to him again there. if things get awkward, i can ask beomgyu to fill in.”
you purse your lips. “i dunno, i might cry if i see his face again.”
“if you don’t feel like it, just call in sick.” soobin’s mouth twitches into a small grin as he says it — you know he’s used that excuse to get away from social situations he doesn’t want to be in. now you’re starting to see the appeal of it.
“okay. i’ll think about it.”
—
ultimately you do decide to go, and two weeks later you’re the first to arrive at the restaurant. you can feel your hands trembling as you push the door open and your heart hammering in your chest. in your head you’ve prepared what you want to say to yeonjun and you mentally rehearse your words for the hundredth time.
you slide right into the booth and take a deep breath. you check your phone to keep yourself busy, letting yourself calm down until your hands have stopped shaking. as you’re scrolling through your camera roll looking at some memes beomgyu sent you, someone slides into the booth seat opposite yours.
“hey, y/n.”
yeonjun gives you a shy smile and the nervousness in your stomach kicks into overdrive. he looks much better now; the bags under his eyes have lessened, and his smile seems genuine. still, you can’t help but remember the last time you saw him, and you shudder.
he sees your reaction and winces, averting his gaze. when he speaks, his voice is soft. “y/n... are we okay?”
the question breaks you and whatever words you have prepared fly out of your mind. as you try to grasp at them again, tears prick at your eyes.. “yeah... yeah, we’re okay,” you say. you take a gulp of water to hold back the tears. “i was never mad at you, jjun, i’ve been worried out of my mind一”
“i’m sorry i never replied to your texts.” he places his hands atop your trembling ones. “i just felt so ashamed that i didn’t know how to face you.”
“and i’m sorry i never tried texting you again, i just didn’t know what you thought of me, and i was so scared that i lost you...”
“i was so scared that i lost you.”
you sniffle. “that makes both of us then. god, we were so stupid.”
“i missed you, y/n.”
“i missed you too, jjun.”
you let out a laugh of relief and he laughs too. with the sound of his laughter melding with yours, everything else seems to melt away: the tears in your eyes, the other noises of the restaurant, the baggage of the last two weeks. sitting before you is your old friend, holding onto your hand to comfort you, laughing together with you just like you always have.
and just as always, you want nothing more than for your friend to be happy.
“so,” you begin, giving him the most reassuring smile that you can muster, “let’s start over?”
yeonjun glances down at the table, but you can see his eyes crinkling as they usually do when he smiles. “yeah, let’s do that.”
when beomgyu enters the restaurant right afterwards, all it takes is one glance at the scene before him to understand what happened. he turns his head towards you, meeting your gaze, and you give him a nod.
it’s going to be okay.
一
the kiss becomes an unspoken part of your history together, never mentioned and never acknowledged. you stop searching for hidden meanings to it, and instead settle on the explanation that it was simply a spur-of-the-moment reaction from pent-up post-breakup emotions. it doesn’t matter to you whether or not this explanation is true; it’s the explanation that gives you the most peace of mind, and that’s what matters. as the days pass, you think of it less and less, and eventually it is filed away in your memory, like a book never checked out of the library collecting dust.
in the meantime, you pour your energy into rebuilding both your friendship with yeonjun as well as his fragile heart. the first few hangouts with just the two of you are awkward with a tinge of melancholy, with conversations feeling a little too short. fortunately, your shared friends are there to help: you and yeonjun are invited to video game nights at soobin’s, or a cute new cafe that kai wants to check out, or just a walk around the park. the silences feel less awkward when it’s quickly filled by a joke from beomgyu or witty remark from taehyun.
from time to time you see the shine in yeonjun’s eyes disappear, even for just a moment, when he encounters something that reminds him of “the ‘h’ word” (as beomgyu refers to her): a park bench where they had a date, or a dress on a passerby that looks a lot like something she would wear. sometimes one of his friends would recognize it and quickly divert his attention elsewhere. soon those diversions occur less and less often as fewer and fewer things remind yeonjun of her.
but things don’t truly feel normal to you until a month and a half later. your project at work has gone well, and yeonjun has completed the first draft of a mixtape he’s making. just as you muse to yourself that a reward would be nice, your phone buzzes.
that afternoon you and yeonjun stroll down the shopping district a few minutes away from his house, trying on this and that. it isn’t long before you find yourself spending over your budget; it’s hard not to when yeonjun is constantly egging you to buy something you really want. “c’mon, y/n,” he whines as you put back another cute button-down on the rack. “you deserve it! you can wear it to work for the next phase of your project!”
he giggles when he sees your eyes light up at his words. “we do have another presentation for it,” you muse.
still, you draw the line when you spot an elegant tan jacket worn by one of the storefront mannequins. you stare at it longingly as if you’ve found your soulmate, and yeonjun sweet-talks you into entering the shop and trying it on. but when you see the hefty price tag on it, you sigh.
“i can’t justify this, jjun…”
“but you look great in it! and you want it so much. you’ll feel worse if you don’t get it.”
“maybe…” you glance down at the shopping bags in your hand. “i dunno, i’ve spent so much already.”
you sigh in defeat and turn back to the store exit before you can second-guess yourself. yeonjun doesn’t follow immediately, but instead watches you go as he lingers a bit longer.
later that day, the two of you sort through all the things you bought (mostly clothes and accessories, but also a vinyl for yeonjun and a novel for yourself) in between giggles and wide eyes and a shower of compliments. yeonjun puts on a completely new outfit for you and struts down his apartment like a runway model, and he pulls you up from the floor to do the same. soon you’re laughing and clapping at each other’s performances, and yeonjun even whips out his phone to take photos of each other’s best looks.
as you rummage through your haul for one more outfit to assemble, your eyes land on a familiar spot of tan fabric. your mouth falls open when you pull it out and see that jacket — the one you’re pretty sure you didn’t buy. you glance up at yeonjun and he licks his lips before forming a mischievous grin.
“jjun, is this...”
“it’s yours.”
“you didn’t have to一”
“i saw the way you were looking at it, y/n. i just had to get it for you. c’mon, put it on.”
hesitantly, you take off the jacket you’re already wearing and put on the new one. it fits perfectly, just a little loose to let air flow in, and you love how it frames your figure. yeonjun is still smiling at you, but it’s a different smile. he looks at you as if you’ve transformed in front of him.
“you look really pretty,” he says. “let me take a few pics, okay?”
he snaps a few photos of you and you pose for the camera, and a comforting warmth settles over you. if this happened a few months earlier, you would have blushed and your heart would be doing somersaults, but now all you feel is a light flutter. everything feels fit in, like the final piece of a puzzle slotting into place.
you lock eyes with yeonjun as he takes the last photo and puts his phone away. as you whisper “thank you” to him, the gleam in his eyes is reflected in your own. there it is, that indecipherable look of his that makes you feel warm.
you still love him 一 there’s a part of you that still knows that. but over the last month and a half you’ve simply learned to live with your feelings, letting them fill you with lightness for a few moments and then letting them go. feelings or not, you’re just glad to have yeonjun in your life again. even as a friend, his presence is a soothing balm against the stresses of life.
一
months later, yeonjun is sprawled on your couch again, his head on your shoulder as you scroll through your list of rom-coms on your laptop. at one point the two of you resumed your pho and rom-com nights, and you’re glad for it; few things give you as much comfort after a long week of work.
after scrolling back and forth a few times, you pause on the same movie you’ve always watched together and give him a quick look. he simply smiles.
“don’t you get sick of this one?” you ask.
“not really, the ending always feels nice. are you… tired of it?”
“no no, i— i was worried that you’re tired of it.”
“me? never.”
“perfect, ‘cause i’m not either.” you give him a knowing grin and press play.
at this point you both know this movie so well that you recite along to every line. you do the female lead’s lines, yeonjun does the male lead’s, and you even sing along to the soundtrack. yeonjun stretches out on your couch even more, his head ending up in your lap, and in the movie’s quiet moments you find yourself playing with his hair. when the big confession happens you can feel him holding his breath and then releasing it in a laugh when the two leads finally kiss.
the credits roll and he glances up at you, smiling in satisfaction. you smile too and hum along to the end credits song. as the movie ends, you let yourself bask in it: you stretch out your arms, yeonjun sits up to lean on your shoulder again, and you lay your head atop his. the two of you remain like that for a while, sitting in comfortable silence.
“don’t you ever get jealous of them?” you ask.
you feel his head shake a bit as he chuckles. “i hate to admit it, but yeah. rom-coms always make getting together look so... fun.”
“right? i wish my life was like that.”
“god, me too.”
“i swear, it drives me insane,” you huff. “every time i watch this i want to start dating again or something.”
a few more moments of silence. yeonjun lets out a soft exhale and you feel his body grow tense. the air in your apartment seems stuffier.
“speaking of which, i have to tell you something.”
“me...?”
you’ve never heard yeonjun sound so solemn. his head weighs down on your shoulder. “y’know, i’ve been uh... thinking of dating again.”
“oh... where are you dating this time? did beomgyu set you up again?”
he shakes his head, looks up at you for a split second, then looks down at his hands. you see the tips of his ears turn pink.
“actually, i... i have someone mind. someone i want to ask out, i mean.”
with those words the feelings you’ve brushed aside for so long come back in full force. your heart beats so hard it feels like it’s slamming into your chest. when you speak, your voice shakes.
“oh... who’s the lucky one?”
“i-i’ve known her for a while. she’s sweet and fun to be around... we’ve been hanging out a lot more often these last few months. we get along really well, at least i think we do...”
“sounds like you have chemistry with this special girl,” you say, the words heavy on your tongue. the hammering of your heart floods your ears. “so what’s stopping you from asking her out?”
yeonjun sits up to face you fully. you sense the effort it takes for him to look at you 一 has he ever been like this around you before? 一 and you reach for his hands. they’re trembling, and his ears go from pink to red.
“a long time ago,” he starts, voice shaking, “i kissed her. i kissed her after my last breakup. and i wasn’t thinking straight, i was just so lonely that i wanted to be loved again 一 but i can’t do that to yo— to her, she’s one of my best friends, i don’t want yo— her to be a rebound 一 but then you said we could start over so we did and i dunno, at one point i started liking you, i fell so hard i don’t know wh一”
you interrupt him with a kiss, your lips gentle on his. you feel him kissing you back, his movements gentle as his hand comes up to hold your head in place. you find yourself pressed against him and he’s even warmer than you remember, warmer than those dreams you had so many months ago.
when you break apart, his eyes are glazed over in a look of pure admiration.
“y/n...”
“jjun, i...” heat spreads across your face. “i’ve loved you for years.”
“then why didn’t you say anything?”
“how could i? what if you didn’t feel that way and it ruined our friendship? and with all the other guys too?” your heart is still beating fast but you let out the words while your boldness still has a hold on you. “and then you dated hana and i cried but i wanted you to be happy 一 then you broke up and you kissed me and i liked it, and i hated myself for liking it because you were 一”
yeonjun pulls you into him, arms encircling you, and as you keep rambling into his chest he soothes you with one hand combing through your hair. his other arm grips you firmly, and your own arms find a firm hold around his neck.
“i love you too, y/n,” he whispers into your hair before leaving a kiss there. “it’s okay.”
“i love you, so much...”
he pulls apart to get a good look at your face. as he sees a few tears start to roll down your cheeks, he brushes them aside with his thumb.
“so this girl,” he says, affection lacing his words, “after we kissed, she said we could start over. and we did. and i’m really glad we did, because i fell for h一 for you so hard.”
you lean your head forward so that your forehead touches his. “really?”
“really. and i...”
“do you want to kiss her again?”
yeonjun’s breath hitches and his eyes meet yours. there it is 一 that same look of his that makes you feel light. the one that, you realize, makes you feel loved.
“can i?”
“please,” you whisper.
he closes the gap between your lips and his, and this time you feel only relief and bliss.
#txt x reader#yeonjun x reader#txt x you#yeonjun x you#choi yeonjun x reader#kpop x reader#txt imagines#kpop imagines#yeonjun imagines#txt angst#txt fluff#yeonjun angst#yeonjun fluff#tomorrow x together imagines#txt fic#txt fanfic#bhj originals
462 notes
·
View notes
Text
sunspent
summary: you're relaxed and calm in the obx summer heat, and rafe simply cannot have that.
notes: filthy filthy filthy! sorry not sorry bout it. also minor obx 3 spoilers; ie his parents are on that damn island and its just him in their big ole house. semi public sex kink and def a choking kink beware or be scared! i truly cannot write anything without that damn hand around reader's throat.. that's my b. enjoy! also thank you so much for all the love on my fics and the followers... so excited for all i will write in the future and so incredibly full of love from you guys <3
tags: rafe cameron x fem!reader
word count: 2542
The whole day had been perfect.
You woke up around 9:30, brushed your teeth, and went downstairs to have some oatmeal. By 10:30 you were in a bikini and setting out a towel on the back deck.
The sun was fairly hot, but the early warnings of a storm gave a cooler breeze. Your towel was in the perfect spot between the shade where you could get full sun coverage without moving too much.
Gentle music was playing from your speaker, something that sounded like what your mom listened to in highschool, and a couple vodka seltzers laid unopened in a small cooler for you to enjoy later. You were also halfway through a mystery book, and between the pages of every chapter you let the time drift away from you.
The most relaxing part of the start of your day? Rafe had left the house around 9 and had yet to return by the time you cracked open your seltzer at 1 o’clock. No ranting, no typical Rafe-isms— just sunshine and Paula Abdul. You wished he was able to do this with you.
It was so relaxing that you drifted off to sleep a little more than halfway through your drink, head resting on your folded arms.
“Y/N.” Something rigid and distinctly shoe-like nudges your arm. “Baby.”
You just groan and turn over onto your back, arms following to protect your eyes from the sunlight.
“Hi,” you croak, squinting, and peer up at him. He looks like the Statue of Liberty in this light— if the statue of liberty wore light wash jeans and slutty little beer brand t-shirts. (So on brand for him.)
“How long have you been out here?” He asks, bending to pick up what’s left of your seltzer for one final swig.
“Since like 10:45.” Your face breaks in a yawn and your arms fall to the deck as your eyes get used to the light. A smile creeps onto your face. “What’ve you been doing?” You sit up on your hands, scanning his body. He looks kinda sweaty.
“Um,” he starts, scratching at his forehead with a sigh. “Buncha shit. Went into a couple places to close Ward’s accounts with them—oh, I saw your mom at Cold Stone by the way.”
“Why were you at Cold Stone?” You grin, crossing your legs and pushing at his calf with your foot. He makes an innocent face, hands on his hips. He looks to the trees, playfully exasperated.
“Sometimes I need a milkshake, Y/N. What kind of question is that?” You snort. “Anyway— I think we should go out for dinner. It’s getting to be—shit, it’s almost 4.”
You’re silent, save for some puny, whiny noise you make at the mention of going out. You struggle to get up, a little wobbly on your feet, but Rafe catches you and hauls you up with a hand on your waist.
“What?” He brushes the wispy hairs out of your face. “You don’t want to go out?” He searches your face, blue eyes squinting down at you, and you just pout. In the most mature way a 20-something can when faced with leaving her very rich boyfriend’s very nice house who has asked her to stay with him graciously for the very near future while his parents are retired on some island in the middle of the ocean.
You curl a finger around the collar of his t-shirt, playing with it while you formulate an answer.
“Where would we go?” Is what you settle on, ever the people pleaser.
“I don’t know…” Rafe thinks, gaze drifting from you as he chews at his lip. You wind your arms around his shoulders, hands splayed across his wingspan. You pet the skin of his neck with your thumb, warm all over. You’re content just looking at him forever.
“What if I’m hungry now?” You ask, ever so innocently, and Rafe thinks you’re serious until he catches the look on your face.
“That right?” He grins, hand sliding down your back. He grabs at your ass and you squeak. “How hungry? Wait until after dinner?” He’s just teasing you honestly; it’s almost a hobby to see how desperate you get for him.
“Rafe.” You pinch his shoulder. “That’s not funny.”
He just hums noncommittally, and dips to press a kiss to your neck. You shift up onto your tiptoes, wanting to be closer, and he hikes one of your legs up onto his hip. You can’t help the noise you make.
“Rafe,” you breathe, grabbing at him. “We have to go inside.” He bows forward, dangling you towards the wood of the deck, and you just hold tighter onto his shoulders.
“Why?” He murmurs, lost in your taste, and presses a kiss to your mouth that makes you shiver. “I don’t see why we have to.” He falls into a kneel, bringing you with him, and you suck in a surprised gasp. “Nobody’s around.”
“Somebody could be, baby,” you say, chancing a look around, and huff out a sigh when he lays you onto your back. This man.
“I don’t care,” he says, shrugging his shoulders with not a care in the world before following you down.
This bikini might be his favorite. He likes anything that will leave as little to the imagination as possible, but this one is his favorite shade of blue. Almost matches his eyes.
Your warm skin feels like silk on him, and when you wriggle when he presses a hand to your inner thigh, his dick jumps.
“Relax, Y/N,” he breathes. You roll your eyes.
“How can I, Rafe? You’re so—aggravating.” You huff. He’s still wearing his shirt, too. You tug at the sleeves of it.
“Oh, yeah?” He cocks his head, lips pursed. You just nod, pulling again at the fabric of his shirt. “Why’re you so wet, then?” He fumbles with the buckle of his jeans and your eyes lock on it.
“I’m not.” You look back up at him, self-assured to a fault, and try to will the dampness between your legs away. He just stares down at you, unimpressed. “I-I’m not.” Your thighs close.
“That right?” He murmurs, and wrestles your legs open again with an arm. His fingertips brush the crotch of your bottoms and you jolt, breathing hard out your nose. He lifts your hips and pulls them clean off, tossing them to the side.
He’s silent then, gaze locked between your legs, and he carefully guides your legs back until you can grab them by the back of your thighs and keep them out of his way.
“Not wet, my ass,” he murmurs to himself. His thumb rubs at your clit, and your sigh of pleasure ends in an impatient whine. He spits. “This pussy—,” he starts, but can’t finish.
He just bows and gets his mouth on you like he’s been thinking about since he left the house. Your head slams back against the deck almost immediately.
His large palm flattens to the back of your thigh and pushes your leg even further. The muscle strains but you can handle it.
“Fuck, Rafe,” you cry out, eyes squeezing shut as his tongue pushes hard through your folds. You’re really fucking wet. You wonder briefly if it’s because of how hot it was today, then cast that out of your mind completely when you hear Rafe groan. Your body vibrates with it.
His hands suddenly drag you by your hips, closer to his face, and he hums again.
“Taste so fucking good,” he muses, spitting at you, and glances up at your face. You can barely keep your mouth closed like this. “Brat, lying to me.”
You whine, every second of him talking taking his mouth away from where it so desperately needs to be absolute torture, but settle when his thumb begins tracing circles into your clit.
“Fuck me,” you breathe, back arching and leg muscles straining, and Rafe just laughs into your cunt.
“I will,” he murmurs, and you would roll your eyes if you could— but he pushes two fingers into you. His thumb spurs back into motion as you sing, throat already sore. He knows exactly where and when to curl his fingers, and you let him know right there is where they need to be.
“There you go.” He spits a third time, watching it mix with your slick. “Squeezing me so tight, honey,” he assures you, smoothing a hand down your thigh. If you could find words you’d agree.
You manage a “yes, shit,” before you go mute and your eyes roll back into your head. You squeeze around him like a vice, your legs flooding with warmth, and he fingers you through your orgasm. He can’t pull himself away when you get like this— you’re so soft and warm and perfect that he genuinely wonders if he could ever fuck someone else again. He knows the answer is no.
Your abdominal muscles spasm and jolt as you come down, neck straining to look at where his fingers give you a final stroke and find their way to his mouth.
“Fuck, Rafe,” you half-laugh and half-moan, head falling against the deck. You chest heaves as you catch your breath. “This is embarrassing.”
“What?” He says, voice hushed, and presses a kiss to your mouth. “Being on the deck or how quick I can make you cum?” He grins.
This time you can and do roll your eyes.
“Both,” you sigh, legs falling to their place around his hips. You curl up into a sitting position and pet his arm, coming back to reality. He smells like sunshine. “But you still haven’t fucked me yet.”
Your fingers trail down to his jeans, fingertips ghosting over his zipper. He hums in agreement, eyes following. You play with the button for a second, just wanting to tease, but pop it and unzip the fly.
“Wanna know what I’m thinking about?” You ask, reaching up his shirt to feel his hot skin. “That time on the beach,” you purr, voice hushed and eyes wild.
“Yeah?” He bites his lip and sits back on his ass, taking you with him in his lap. Your knees bend and you sit comfortably on the seat that is only yours. “You thinking about my hand?”
“Mhm.” You lean and kiss at his cheek, trailing down to his jaw. “And something else.” You dig a hand down into his boxers and curl your fingers around his dick.
He’s hot and almost slippery, so hard you’re sure it’s painful. Your wrist slides against the tip and his hand on your ass curls into a fist.
You lean back, wanting to see his face, and watch as your touch washes over his body. He blinks rapidly, eyes focusing, and you smile sweetly.
It’s then that you shift into your knees, hand squeezing his dick, and sink down onto him.
His fingers fly up to your strained face and grasp your neck, immediately tight around your throat. Not tight enough to suffocate, but tight enough for your pulse to quicken.
Exactly what you’d imagined.
“You like that?” He pants, breath fanning over your cheek when you turn slightly and grip his shoulder for stability. You just nod and circle your hips.
His thumb on your chin guides your face back to his, wanting to see you fall apart, and you make a whiny noise. He feels where it starts and ends between his fingertips.
You ride between the strain of his hand around your throat and the movement of his body, head tilted back and mouth wide. Your fingers grip his shoulder and bicep as you ride.
It’s a difficult job, balancing the rhythm of your hips with the ache blooming from the muscles in your thighs, but you make it work.
You hear the bashfully whiny groans he’s exhaling into your ear and you make it work.
“You feel so good,” you whisper hoarsely as his hold tightens, chin tilting towards the sky. He grits his teeth and pushes his hips up into yours.
You scramble to grab onto his forearm and hold back your shriek.
The tightness of his fingers around your throat blur the lines of pleasure and pain, making it hard to catch a deep breath and ride him at the same time.
“Fuck, harder,” he stutters, almost whispering, and you nod furiously. Your thighs meet his lap, over and over with a noise that makes you blush even more than you already are, and you’re sure you’ll have bruises or at the very least a red mark.
He releases your throat and anchors himself with your hip and the small of your back, and when you finally gasp for air at the loss of his pressure on your neck he uses all his lower back strength to wedge himself deep into you.
You know you’ll have bruises there.
You push hard against his forearm as your back arches and the tension in your lower abdomen comes to a peak. Your toes curl where they are at his side.
Your vision comes in and out of focus as you cum again, blood white-hot in your veins. The climax is almost numbing. Addicting.
At this point you have no idea the noises you’re making, probably all gibberish and definitely humiliating, but the rushing in your ears is too much.
Rafe shudders and groans loudly into your ear, spending himself inside of you with a grunt, and you follow him as he falls back into the deck. You catch yourself with a palm on the sun scorched wood.
“Jesus Christ,” he pants, heart pounding and chest heaving. Sweat coats his buzzed hair in a shiny sheen, and your whole body is so sticky you feel like you could peel the layer of perspiration off of your body.
His hands still lazily hold your waist and they begin their ascent to your neck. He feels your pulse with the space between his thumb and forefinger, and his face splits into a grin at the feeling.
“I definitely am going to need some food after this.” You push yourself back up into a sitting position and put your hands on your hips as you finally catch your breath.
He looks so beautiful, half in the shade and half in the sun. Laid out beneath you. Still inside. Like some kind of god.
The hot sun is in his eyes, and his body is numb with the tension spent in his muscles. Rafe half wonders if his dick is still fucking there.
He barely feels when you crawl off of him and stumble into standing. He jerks up into a sitting position, that familiar ache in his back present, and grabs for your leg. He winces at the stretch. You should really be paying his chiropractor bill.
“Where are you going?” He accuses, voice scratchy in his throat.
“I need to shower, baby.” You bend to pick up your bikini bottoms. “We’re going to dinner, aren’t we?” You smile and turn back around to go inside, ass bare and a huge red mark in the shape of a large hand curved around the trunk of your throat.
Yeah, drive-up it is.
#obx#obx 3#obx 3 spoilers#rafe cameron#obx fanfic#obx smut#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron x reader#obx x reader#rafe cameron x fem!reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron fic#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron imagine
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Siren
siren!yeosang x sirenhunter!reader
enemies to lovers au but with crack
genres and warnings: fluff, angst, violence warning, sorcerer san and sirenhunter jongho as side characters
word count: 27.8k (idky im still incapable of making shorter fics)
synopsis: yeosang is a siren and you're a siren-hunter. he may have lost his voice and you may be immune to a siren's call, but he has you bewitched anyway. on your journey together to find the sirens who killed your parents and took his voice, you make new friends, find yourself cursed and turning into a siren, and fall for yeosang. he proves time and time again that he's not the monster you thought all sirens to be as he helps you come to terms with yourself and find the person who cursed you.
manager-nim: @eightmakesonebraincell (we fought over who writes a sea au first. now i'm traumatised and she learnt her lesson) (also firing you bc you 🔫 didn't proofread this)
You couldn’t help but wonder just what was different about this part of the ocean because the sound of the waves crashing loudly was strangely calming. Maybe it was the lack of travellers or sailors here- after all, this area was considered remote. Maybe the humans had not polluted this part yet. Humans always left a trail behind them, and you couldn’t really spot any traces here.
Or maybe a kind soul was taking care of this place. As you walked with bare feet on the sand, long having ditched your sandals, the waves occasionally flowing to wash your feet, you noticed a few cabins and cottages in the distance-- someone must be living here. Maybe they knew how to treasure the land they dwelled on, the sea that they sailed in. You smiled to yourself, looking up at the sky, a lot clearer here than where you were coming from. The stars were more visible too, almost looking as if they were near- like all you had to do was jump to grab them. Even the wind smelt cleaner, containing traces of salt and mud, and-
Food. Your stomach rumbled at the thought and you rubbed it as if that would provide it any comfort. You haven't had a nice meal for a while now. You held the strap of your bag tighter in an attempt to distract yourself, glancing at your right and noticing a person walking along the shore lazily as if they had no worry in the world. You reckoned the person must be a resident here and decided to approach them, hoping to find a room for the night and a hot meal if you were lucky.
You jogged towards the person and when he turned, you said hi. “I was wondering if there are rooms available for the night? I’m leaving at the crack of dawn- I need to catch the first boat.”
“The first boat won’t leave until mid-afternoon,” he said and you involuntarily raised a brow at how different his voice sounded from his appearance- it was too much to process immediately. “As for a room… you can usually find them in town, but it’s far too late, isn’t it? And you look tired enough.”
You scanned him and you couldn’t help but notice just how beautiful he looked. There was no other way to explain his appearance- it was like he was crafted with special care. You frowned a bit, not detecting anything odd about him- was he human then? “Mid-afternoon, huh?” You looked around. “Might put a tent somewhere here then-”
“I can offer you a meal and a room… if you’d like,” he sounded cautious, scanning you again. “You shouldn’t be out alone at this hour-”
“I can take care of myself, thank you for the offer-”
“No, you really shouldn’t be out alone- not here,” he glanced at the sea and you understood. “You never know what creatures prowl in the dark.”
You realised he was right- a lack of humans meant more room for other creatures. Your stomach growled again at the thought of a meal and he looked pointedly at you. “You can find a room in town too after you eat something because I can hear your stomach loud and clear-”
“Alright,” you laughed awkwardly. “Thank you. Please, after you.”
He passed a warm smile and you followed him, glancing at the cottage he pointed to- it looked quite homey. You reckoned that if he didn’t find anything odd about the bow and arrows hanging at your back, he didn’t really have any qualms about inviting you to his cottage. You commented on how pretty it was and he thanked you, guiding you inside the warm living room and asking you to wait while he heated up the cinnamon rolls he had baked earlier. You dropped your stuff in a corner and looked around.
“Are you a sailor too?” You asked, noticing the compasses and scrolls on the fireplace mantel.
“Not my occupation but I do travel around,” he said. “You don’t mind fish stew, do you?”
“Nope,” you observed the strange wall hangings- you had travelled around the continent for years but you had never seen such ornaments- beads, pearls, shells and plants intertwined in an intricate pattern. “Where did you get these?”
“I made them,” he started setting the table, motioning for you to join him. “I learned from an elder a while ago.”
You made an impressed face and sat across from him, taking in his otherworldly features again now that you could actually see him clearly. He had highlights in his hair, perhaps from the sun, and you noticed a red mark on his temple. You thanked him for the meal before digging in.
“So what’s your name?” You asked.
“Yeosang,” he said. “And you are?”
You told him your name. “Do you travel around a lot?”
He nodded. “I have, uh… relatives who are scattered across the sea. I sometimes go to visit them. What brought you here, though? We don’t get a lot of visitors here.”
“I have someone I need to find too.”
“Family?”
“Nah, they’re long gone,” you told him. “Just… some people I’ve been trying to find for a while. They know about my family. Must be on one of the islands around somewhere.”
“I hope you find them,” he pursed his lips. “It must be lonely travelling alone all the time.”
“Yeah, but I make friends everywhere,” you chuckled. “Going back to them is nice.”
“Do you know anyone around here then? Propus is a small town.”
“Not really,” you told him, finishing eating and he poured you water. “I just arrived here an hour ago and walked around trying to find a room, but…”
“My offer stands,” he passed you the cinnamon rolls. You narrowed your eyes.
“Feels like you’re bribing me- is there anything you’d like in return?”
He laughed out loud and you couldn’t help but smile at how beautiful he sounded- he seemed less and less human with every passing second, even though you couldn’t find any characteristic feature that could indicate he might be someone else- a merman, perhaps? But they didn’t live on land- he looked human. A sorcerer then? “Nothing. I might put a board outside and call it an inn now. I just like having visitors- they always leave something behind, don’t they?”
“Like what?”
“A memory, a lesson,” he shrugged.
“You’re strange,” you told him. “Well, I think your business might run well. You make excellent food.”
He smiled shyly at that. You sighed deeply. “And I’m far too tired so a room sounds nice. I’ll pay you in the morning, though.”
“No, it’s okay-”
“Please, I wouldn’t want to be a burden,” you got up, gathering the dishes. “Consider me the first guest of your business.”
He grinned at that, turning to place the dishes in the sink and you noticed a strange glow on his temple, right where the red mark was. “Is that… a birthmark?”
“Ah, this?” He pointed at his temple. “Yeah, I guess. I’ve always had it.”
“It’s pretty,” you told him, gathering your stuff and he guided you upstairs to an empty room with a bed and a dresser.
“You can relax and get some sleep- the boats start sailing in the afternoon.”
“Got you,” you said. “I’ll wait for you- I hope you won’t mind guiding me to the nearest weapons shop in the morning? I need to restock the arrows.”
“Of course,” he glanced at the weapons by your bedside. “You’re not a pirate, are you?”
You laughed. “Just a lone traveller- I should protect myself.”
“Good,” he gave you a thumbs-up, saying goodnight before closing the door behind him and leaving. You relaxed, glad that you found a welcoming person tonight. Years of travelling made you good at finding such people.
You quickly washed up and prepared to sleep, stuffing your old clothes in the bag and wondering if you should do some laundry while you were here. You opened the window, the waves and air producing an odd harmony as they clashed-
No.
It wasn’t the sound of the air or the melody of the ocean. It sounded like the call of a siren.
But a siren so close to land? It wasn’t possible.
You took a deep breath, your instincts taking the better of you as you grabbed your bow and quiver, opening the door and halting again- it had to be the song of a siren, but it was being hummed very lightly, and…
It didn’t sound like it was coming from outside.
Not trusting your own senses, you went back inside your room towards the window, peeking out and finding no one in the vicinity. You couldn't locate the source or the distance, so you decided to go downstairs after hiding one of your daggers in your sleeves. You treaded lightly down the stairs, pausing when you found the front door open-
And Yeosang outside, looking absolutely ethereal while he hummed that song.
The song of the sirens.
It didn’t make any sense- sirens couldn’t leave the sea. Sirens had evolved over the years, appearing almost human-like, yes, but… Yeosang wasn’t a siren, was he? He didn’t look anything like a siren. He didn’t sound like a siren- yes, he was singing the song of the sirens that you recognised but it wasn’t luring you. You were immune to the songs but even then, being in the vicinity of sirens would always cloud your mind, but this time…
You were very well in your own senses.
You gripped the dagger tighter, watching Yeosang hum the song as he knitted, his fingers working with expertise. You stepped closer, not daring to breathe any louder, but his shoulders suddenly stiffened as he paused.
“For someone who hunts… your stealth could improve.”
You remained where you were. “What are you?”
He continued knitting and you watched him break the thread with his teeth before he turned to face you, not even flinching at the sight of your dagger. “What are you? Why are you going around the sea with only bows and arrows? Humans belong on the land, not the sea.”
“How do you know the call of the sirens?”
“And how would you know what the call of the siren sounds like?” He narrowed his eyes and now that the moonlight hit the side of his face, the red ‘birthmark’ glowed- no, reflected the moonlight like scales-
The scales- the skin of a siren.
Before you knew it, your dagger was flying out of your hand, aimed for this forehead. He dodged it as if he had seen it coming, the dagger landing on the floor with a clang and he glared at you. “I will pretend that didn’t just happen.”
You were already aiming your arrow at him. “You’re a siren.”
“Come on,” he raised his hands in the air. “Do I really look like one? Or sound like one?”
You didn’t respond, waiting for him to make one wrong move, positive he couldn’t deflect these enchanted arrows that would always meet their target. He turned back, gathering his stuff as if an arrow pointed towards his heart didn’t bother him at all. “You’re not singing anymore.”
“If I was really a siren, my song would have lured you. You wouldn’t be standing here with an arrow aimed at me, miss. You must know that- you seem to know a lot about sirens.”
“Of course I know. I’m a siren-hunter, after all.”
This time, he froze for a good few seconds and you expected to see surprise on his face but instead, when he turned, his eyes were filled with curiosity. “Siren-hunter, you said? You’re not the infamous reaper, are you? You must be the marauder”
“And?”
He smirked dangerously. “There is a way you can pay me back for letting you stay the night here- and ignoring that disrespect,” he told you. “You see, I need to hunt some sirens too.”
“But you’re a siren-”
“And? Can’t a siren hunt another siren?”
You finally lowered your bow. “Are you really a siren?”
“I was, once,” his eyes glinted. “I’m more human now. They took my voice.”
You gulped. “They took your voice? How can they do that? Is that even possible?”
“It is, apparently,” he sank down in his chair as if disappointed. “I’ve been outcasted.”
“But why would they do that to their own kind?” You scoffed. “Aren’t you sirens a very tight-knit community or something?”
“They are, until one of them does something they weren’t supposed to do,” he sounded grim. “Not all sirens wish to eat humans, you see? Maybe I like chicken better.”
You groaned out loud. “You’re not making any sense- ” you took a seat in front of him, the arrow still lodged in the bow. “Just answer me- you’re a siren but you’re…”
“I am a siren, but I cannot lure humans anymore,” he admitted. “I never wanted to do that anyway. They took my voice because I didn’t act like a ‘normal’ siren.”
“Damn,” you muttered. “And you want to hunt some sirens? The ones that took your voice?”
“Yes,” he nodded firmly. “I could have gone on my own, but I had a feeling… that I should wait. Wait for someone like you to come.”
“How did you know I was a siren-hunter?”
“I wasn’t sure at first- I thought you were a fanatic or something, until I sang and you came armed to the teeth,” he tsk-ed. “Is that how you treat someone who gives you shelter?”
You ignored that, scanning him once again- there was a reason why he looked too beautiful to be a human after all. “What do I get out of our deal?”
“You mentioned something about finding someone, didn’t you?” Yeosang hooked one leg over the other, appearing extremely interested in your story. “There’s no relatives out there, isn’t that so? You must be hunting the sirens who killed someone you loved.”
“It’s obvious, huh?” You looked away from his tantalising gaze. “You’ll help me locate those sirens and in return, you want me to help you hunt your sirens. How do I know you won’t turn on me?”
“How do I know you won’t kill me?” He looked pointedly at your bow. “I can fight just as good as you. I cannot lure you, I cannot eat you- but to be fair, I wouldn’t have eaten you even if I was a siren. You don’t look appetising.”
You gaped at the siren- the man in front of you. Unbelievable.
“Just because I agree and we might strike a deal,” you said and got up, lowering your bow and he got up as well, waiting to hear the rest, “doesn’t mean I trust you, okay?”
“Likewise, human,” he said and you almost felt as if he were looking down on you. You glared at him for a few moments, wondering what to do.
“You’re still taking me to the weapons shop tomorrow, by the way. As a siren, you must know which arrows hurt the most.”
Yeosang smirked. “You should get something for close combat too. You never know when you might find a siren in your proximity,” he stepped closer and you tightened the grip on your bow. “The call of sirens might not work on you but you never know when your incantations slip.”
You raised a brow in question but he simply passed you, purposely bumping his shoulder with yours and you watched him disappear in his room before going up with heavy steps to your own room, wondering if you had really made the right decision. Could you trust a siren?
Just what had you signed up for?
—------------------------------
“You know, for a siren, you’re awfully unaware of your surroundings,” you commented as you watched Yeosang trip on a rock for the second time on your way to the weapons shop in the town. Yeosang glared at you.
“If you can’t tell already, sirens aren’t meant for the land.”
“You seemed to be doing awfully well though,” you muttered. “Almost believed you were just a loner with a cottage on the beach with a thing for baking.”
“Gotta lure the humans somehow-”
Before you knew it, you were clutching his collar and the tip of your dagger was digging into the crook of his neck. Yeosang laughed loudly, making the passersby frown at your exchange. “Relax. I haven’t eaten a human in decades.”
“Not helping,” you practically growled, pushing him away before continuing walking. Yeosang didn’t seem offended- his cocky smile only grew wider as he tried to match his pace with yours. You narrowed his eyes at him- what he said sounded like the truth, but just what exactly did he do for the sirens to take his voice and make him turn to the land and live as a human, among humans? Why did the townspeople greet him with smiles and offer him their food? Had he somehow charmed them?
Yeosang spotted you standing awkwardly by the pillar of the shop in the corner while he helped an old woman carry some bags into her shop. The woman patted his arm and Yeosang bowed, politely refusing the fruits she offered as a token of gratitude. Yeosang jogged back to you and pointed towards the north where the weapons shop was located.
“What are you, some philanthropist?” You scoffed. “Charmed your way into the town, haven’t you?”
“No one can resist my charms even when I’m human,” he simply said. “Admit it. You were bewitched into staying the night too. No amount of incantations and spells could have made you resist my natural- “
“Okay, that’s enough,” you warned, wondering if that was the truth and then scolding yourself internally for doubting yourself- you only accepted his offer because he seemed like an okay person. You trusted your gut-
How did your gut not warn you of his nature?
“Are you like… a human now?” You asked him. “I mean… you don’t look like a siren even in your appearance.”
“The longer I live without activating my siren powers, the more human I will become,” he said. “And it’s not just my appearance. I will eventually lose my powers too.”
“Just how long have you been living as a human then?”
“Long enough to age,” he muttered, walking ahead of you and asking you to wait while he checked if the weapons shop was open. “Come inside- and please be civil. I have a reputation to maintain.”
You made a face, the question you had been wanting to ask at the tip of your tongue. You swallowed it though and entered with a smile, greeting the owner with a bow.
“Young miss, what are you looking for?”
You extracted an arrow from the quiver- the one you had gotten from the person who put the spell on you and made you immune to the sirens’ song. The man examined the carving on the arrow and made an impressed face. “This is a rare one. Where did you get that?”
“It was a gift,” you told him and Yeosang looked suspiciously at you. “An arrow like this is very hard to find on this continent, isn’t that so?”
“The ebony wood used to make this arrow is very rare,” the man returned your arrow. “And unfortunately, that tree does not grow in this continent. You will have better luck finding objects made of this wood at the place where its trees grow.”
“But it’s very difficult to cross the sea,” you looked pointedly at Yeosang who pretended to be interested in the ceiling.
“You seem like a person who could cross the sea,” the man smiled knowingly. “Anything else you might need?”
“Well, Yeosang? What weapon do you suggest I should get for close combat?”
Yeosang coughed a bit before glaring at you and asking the owner, “Can we have a look at the longswords?”
~
About an hour later, with a surprisingly cooperative yet still cocky Yeosang, you were having lunch at a pub in the heart of the town. The atmosphere was lively with sailors eating their fill before they prepared to take off and Yeosang ordered a bunch of food-
“Don’t think I’m doing you a favour here. I want to eat. You can have a little if you want to.”
You rolled your eyes- you still weren’t sure what Yeosang’s approach towards you was supposed to be- did he hate you or did he simply not care, purposely riling you up whenever he could? You glanced at the longsword now resting next to the wall- Yeosang and the owner had helped you find the perfect weight you could carry and the blade was sleek, the hilt firm in your grip. It was perfect for you.
“I wonder if your blood will be the first to taint my sword.”
Yeosang almost choked on his soup. “All my help for nothing, huh?”
“Why would you even help a siren-hunter find the perfect weapon to kill sirens?” You asked. “Do you really hate them that much?”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong- we’re only hunting a selective few,” he reminded you of your deal. “You’ll help me find the ones who took my voice, and I’ll help you find the ones you’re after. We’re not going on a killing spree. Besides, the existence of sirens is essential for natural selection and maintaining a balance in the ecosystem-”
“Stop quoting school books to me,” you scoffed. “What if some random siren comes after me?”
“I’ll protect you,” he said, “so you don’t need to worry about that. Remember- we accomplish our goal first before you resume your stupid siren-hunter job-”
Your heart may have fluttered for a second but he continued, “-which, I must point out, makes no sense. Why would you go around targeting all of the siren community? Why did you become a siren-hunter?”
“Why do you sirens go around hunting humans then?” You countered. “Humans only wish to sail the sea freely.”
“And sirens only wish to live without their homes being polluted. So do the merpeople. You don’t seem to hold a grudge against them. Aren’t they more frequently killing humans than sirens?”
“Everyone is killing everyone,” you sighed deeply. “I don’t go around killing sirens just because I’m immune to the call of the sirens now. I only protect myself while I try to find the ones who… the ones who killed my family.”
Yeosang didn’t respond to that, putting some kimchi on your rice bowl and you chuckled lightly at that. “An eye for an eye, huh?”
“Why do you want to kill the sirens who took your voice?”
“Because even if I do not wish to use it, they stole a part of me.”
“Do you wish to become a siren again?” You wondered out loud. “Getting your voice back will make you a siren, won’t it?”
“I am a siren, sweetheart. I still am. And you should be glad you’re immune to the song of the sirens because if you weren’t and you heard me humming last night? I’m not sure we would be here right now.”
You gulped at his confession. “So you can still lure humans?”
“I haven’t tested it, but one time, someone accidentally heard me hum a song- after I lost my voice,” he admitted. “I thought it didn’t affect them. They appeared normal enough to me. But the next day… I learned that they drowned themself. I stopped singing after that.”
“If you knew that… why did you sing last night, knowing I could hear you?”
“Because I recognised that arrow,” he pointed at your quiver, the arrow you had shown the owner at the weapons shop. “The ebony wood is fatal to sirens. I knew who you were instantly, I was just praying you weren’t the sadistic siren-hunter of the two.”
You scoffed in disbelief. “Do you realise what would have happened if I turned out to be the ‘sadistic’ siren-hunter- the reaper- who I’m sure every siren has heard of? Who has terrorised every creature in the sea, not just sirens?”
“Well… I didn’t think that far,” Yeosang shrugged. “And I don’t think planning that far would have mattered anyway-”
“You’re kidding,” you laughed in disbelief. “You risked your life and hummed like an idiot hoping I would be the nicer siren-hunter of the two?”
“Honestly, you don’t look like a siren-hunter at all,” Yeosang pointed out. “So of course I took my chance.”
You shook your head in disbelief, finishing your food and splitting the bill because you told him you did not want him to have any more ideas about you- you also told him you were debating calling off the deal because you weren’t sure you could ever find your sirens when he was this reckless. He only laughed it off and you both went back to his cottage, packing your bags and preparing to leave.
“What weapons do you possess to guard yourself?” You asked Yeosang, noticing a lack of weapons on him. “Did you hide your daggers in your bag or something? Because you won’t have time to get anything out of the bag if you come across the better siren-hunter out of us two- or what if I decide to attack you in the middle of the night, huh? Are you taking me easy-”
“Stop rambling,” Yeosang scolded, waving at a man standing near a ship by the docks. “It’s only going to be the two of us, right? No sailor?”
“I’m sure we both can manage,” you said and he nodded, asking you to wait while he went to talk to the sailor. He returned with a smug face, pointing at a-
“There’s no way I’m sailing in that piece of trash-”
“How dare you call my boat a piece of trash-”
“It’ll attract too much attention!” You almost shouted. “And honestly? It looks like it will fall apart at any moment.”
You weren’t wrong. The boat had odd planks nailed to it at multiple spots and the reason you realised it was Yeosang’s personal boat was because of the familiar hangings on the boat. It was spacious enough for only the two of you and you weren’t sure it could withstand a still sea let alone crashing waves. You turned towards Yeosang, “Listen to me. We’re travelling in the sea, okay? You might be able to breathe underwater and swim like a fish but I’m human.”
“Alright,” Yeosang groaned. “I hear you. Let’s just begin on this boat- we’re travelling along the continent for now, yeah? The moment we feel this boat is about to give in, we can dock wherever we are and find someone to travel with.”
“Or we could ask someone here-”
“I said it before- I have a reputation and a life here and I will not let you tarnish it.”
“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes. “I will use you as a boat if your boat decides to dismantle in the middle of the sea.”
Yeosang muttered something under his breath that you chose to ignore and you hopped on the boat after him, fearing this would be your last trip in the sea- you probably wouldn’t even make it very far. With a groan, you grabbed one of the oars and the two of you started rowing your boat away from the docks and you both made a bet on how far you could make it.
You only made it to the neighbouring city of Alhena which you would be bordering as you sailed further around the continent. For now, the two of you needed a place to stay after having rowed and complained incessantly for more than half a day. Yeosang asked if you had ever been to Alhena and you told him you had been everywhere, which was true.
“How come you never found your sirens then?” He asked when you settled down at an inn for dinner, having dumped your bags in your separate rooms. “Where did you lose your family?”
You rested your elbows on the table, sighing deeply. “Near Mesarthim Island. We were on the way there from Denebola.”
“Ah, the island,” Yeosang stuffed his mouth with chicken, lost in thought. “I used to live there once.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “As a siren?”
“In the sea, yes,” Yeosang nodded, raising his brows as he looked at the chicken on his plate. “You should try this- it’s amazing.”
You obeyed, nodding along as you ate the chicken, wondering what it meant if Yeosang used to live near Mesarthim too- you had been siren hunting for four years now and you knew that there was only one spot around Mesarthim that hosted sirens- unless something had changed very recently. But if Yeosang was one of the sirens there…
That could only mean he was somehow involved in that attack that killed your parents, or he was related to the sirens that did.
And him helping you find those sirens… this could be a trap.
You finished your food quietly, nodding along to whatever Yeosang had to say before going to your room and counting your arrows. You pursed your lips- you had to get more ebony arrows before you would finally go to kill those sirens.
But for now, you had one, and if Yeosang dared to try anything…
Would you kill him and risk losing the arrow? Risk losing perhaps your only tool of revenge?
If Yeosang noticed the change in your demeanour the next morning, he didn’t comment on it, which made you even more suspicious. You told him you were going to the docks to find someone with a better boat and he said he would join you soon- he had some business in the market. You debated following him and keeping an eye on him but you figured you should solve the bigger problem first.
The docks in Alhena were much livelier than the docks in Mebsuta- a variety of boats, yachts and ships were lined across the docks and the harbour in the distance. You decided a sturdy boat would do- a small but enchanted boat would be your best find. Something that could withstand the storm and the harsh waves…
You spotted a man not far from you dragging some ropes, his get-up screaming sailor, yet there was something different about him. As if having sensed someone staring at him, he turned and passed you a smile. “Looking for a ride?”
You noticed the ink on his neck hidden by the scarf wound around it. “Where are you sailing to?”
“Wherever the waves take me,” he threw the ropes on his boat- the boat looked okay too. “Where are you headed to?”
“Sheratan,” you told him- the city closest to Mesarthim Island.
“You’re travelling a long way,” he scanned you. “Are you alone?”
“I have someone with me,” you said and he considered. While you negotiated the price, you scanned his broad figure and recognised the mark on his neck as the one that sorcerers wore and wondered if it was a good idea to bring a sorcerer into the equation- you were already dealing with a siren-
“Yes, I’m a sorcerer,” he laughed when he noticed your gaze stuck on his neck. “Does that bother you?”
“Not at all,” you assured him. “My experience with sorcerers has been… good.”
“Glad to hear,” he offered his hand and you shook it, calling it a deal. “My name is San. Our stop is Sheratan, but if you’d like to travel after, I can offer you my boat. My life is on the sea.”
“I like that,” you grinned. “I’m y/n. And…” you noticed the familiar figure approaching you. “That’s Yeosang. Don’t mind him, he’s a bit… odd.”
“Ah…” San frowned as Yeosang drew nearer. “He’s not human.”
“Believe it or not, that’s not what makes him odd,” you told him and he shrugged, hopping on the boat and telling you he was ready whenever you were.
“That’s a… good ride you got,” Yeosang said, hands on his hips as he took in the boat- spacious enough for three with a cabin.
“Admit it, it’s better than yours. Far better,” you scoffed.
“Mine was prettier,” he muttered, raising the bags in his hands. “I got us some food.”
“That’s a lot of food,” you took in the sheer number of bags in his hands. “I thought you were going to uh… catch fish on our way there? You can fish, right? Don’t you sirens have claws or something?”
Yeosang glared at you. “If I grow some back when we’re in the middle of the sea… you’ll know.”
You pretended to be scared before jumping on the boat and taking the bags from him, storing them in the cabin. Yeosang went to talk to the sorcerer and you noticed them discussing sailing strategies. You figured as a siren, he probably knew more about the sea than any sailor out there, though it must have been a while since he last navigated the seas. You wondered if he would start to look more like a siren as you stayed longer in the sea-
Could you stomach the sight of him as a siren? Sirens were, after all, the product of your nightmares.
“We’re steering west to avoid the Mesarthim coast,” Yeosang let you know, tossing an apple which you caught, lying back on the bags you had shaped as a couch. “It shouldn’t take too long given the weather remains clear.”
“And what exactly can we expect while on our journey?” You asked. You had sailed around your continent by yourself, yes, but you had never travelled across the ocean.
“Sirens, of course, and then the merpeople… water dragons if we’re unlucky. Pirates maybe. You’ll be surprised to hear that sirens aren’t the worst of these.”
You reluctantly agreed- the pirates were the ones you should avoid at all costs. You thought that it was ironic that you had to worry more about humans than the other sea creatures. San appeared out of the cockpit and said, “Our journey begins now. It shouldn’t take us more than four days to cross the ocean given that we don’t encounter, uh, any unexpected guests,” he looked pointedly at Yeosang who you were sure didn’t get the message. “Shall we begin?”
“Aye, Captain,” you saluted and San chuckled at that, disappearing back inside. Yeosang began to set up his space at the bow of the boat, arranging bags as pillows to rest against. You opted to watch the sorcerer instead, who was currently muttering something under his breath as he ran two fingers along the wheel, probably an incantation for the boat to stay on track. You had seen that before so satisfied, you began setting up your own corner, not much you could use to set camp unlike a certain someone-
“It’s only four days,” you couldn’t hold back. Yeosang looked like he had brought everything of importance from home, which was a bit too much.
“Yes, but I’m finally home,” Yeosang replied, his skin glowing at the temple with an almost blue sheen. “You won’t understand.”
You didn’t want to, so you only shrugged and let him do his thing. The sea… was it your home? For about a decade now, ever since your parent’s deaths, you practically lived on the sea. Sure, the land was where your ‘home’ was but you had always preferred the sea, even before the creatures of the sea stole a part of you.
You shut your eyes though you knew you couldn’t sleep right now. You simply let the sound of the waves and the gentle rocking lull you into a different headspace where there were no worries. Perhaps, that was what you liked so much about the sea- here, without anything holding you back, you could dream of what could have been or what could be. At this moment, you had no concerns, no worries, no expectations until you would reach land. Right now… you were free.
The sound of shuffling made you open one eye and you were a bit surprised to see it was almost dark. San looked at you for permission before sitting next to you.
“So… is our siren going to catch dinner for us or what?”
“I can hear you,” Yeosang mumbled and you snorted- was he trying to sleep or was he just pretending, like you?
“This siren is a good-for-nothing,” you whispered, making the sailor smile. “But it looks like he looted the market before settling here, so shall we prepare dinner?”
San agreed and the two of you went to search through the shopping bags, finding an odd variety of ingredients but still managing to make a decent meal of bread, fruits and nuts, and soup from the inn that San helped heat up. Yeosang looked proudly at the spread and you scoffed.
“You look pleased,” you commented. “Must thank you for the dinner. I thought I was going to get to eat some seafood thanks to you, but… I guess I’ll have to wait until I reach land.”
“I don’t think I’ll have to wait until land to eat some humans though,” Yeosang’s eyes glinted and San coughed to interrupt.
“So, how did a… siren? And a human? End up together in my boat?” San sounded unsure of what you two were, and for right reasons. “I kind of doubt you’re human.”
You frowned. “I am. I’m the marauder. You must have heard about me if you travel a lot.”
“The siren-hunter on an endless journey. I suspected,” he nodded. “I’m just wondering why a human would travel with a siren willingly. If… Yeosang really is a siren, though he doesn’t look or sound like one.”
“He's a siren,” you confirmed, glancing at Yeosang. “He just… got used to pretending that he’s human.”
“For your information,” Yeosang began. “I’ve always been like this. You think what sirens do all day is wait by the rocks for a human and sing?”
“That’s unfortunately what we’ve heard,” San looked amused, “but I’m willing to learn more.”
Yeosang looked disappointed. “You’re humans. You can never know the extent of what the ocean contains. The sirens are devoted to exploring more of the ocean and clearing it of potential threats-” Yeosang looked pointedly at you. “You humans think you’re the only one who does the work around here.”
“Yes, we’ve heard all about the ‘ecosystem’ too,” you retorted. “If the sirens and merpeople could leave the humans alone, maybe we wouldn’t think we’re the only ones doing the work around here. Sirens don’t have to eat humans to live.”
Yeosang smirked faintly and you wondered what he was hiding- or if he was doing that on purpose. He turned his attention to San. “It’s been a while that I’ve been on sea, so what can we expect on our way to Sheratan?”
“I’ll try to steer us as further away from the Mesarthim territory as I can, because that’s the problematic area,” San began and you nodded- you had heard enough tales about the abundance of wild sea creatures there who left no chance to hunt humans. “If you’re a siren, you can probably sense the presence of a threat better than the two of us, so I’ll have to depend on you a little.”
“And if he doesn’t warn us, we’ll just throw him into the sea. He can swim to Sheratan then,” you concluded and San stifled his smile as Yeosang rolled his eyes.
“And if you don’t behave, I’ll gladly hand you over to the pirates because I have a feeling that we will encounter them. Can you believe it?” Yeosang pointed at you as he looked at San. “I offered her shelter in my house and this is how she treats me.”
“His kind killed my family,” you told San.
“Humans are after sorcerers all the time, but we don’t hold grudges,” San shrugged and Yeosang clapped in approval. “But how did you survive if sirens attacked your family?”
“I don’t really remember,” you admitted. You knew you chose to forget some parts of it- it wasn’t the best memory after all. Sometimes, you tried to recall the events of that night but you could never see past the way one of the sirens locked eyes with you as it sank its teeth into your mother’s neck-
“That’s okay,” San started clearing the table, noticing how you zoned out for a moment. “If you’re only targeting the sirens who killed your family, that’s fine. But don’t be surprised if the siren community decides to target you.”
“I’m already targeted. They remember me,” you told them and even Yeosang looked surprised. “The last thing I remember from that night is one of the sirens telling me that they would wait for me. That they would never forget me. There’s a reason I couldn’t let it go and live like a normal human,” you got up, brushing your clothes. “If they’re after me… I can return the favour.”
You took the dishes from San and went towards the kitchen, leaving Yeosang staring at your figure, a faint realisation scratching at his brain, dots starting to connect.
It was too much of a coincidence, he thought. The last words that you heard from that siren…
He remembered them.
—-----------------------------
Yeosang was realising that there was far more to your story than you were letting them know. He was confused after your statement from a couple nights ago when you said the sirens were already targeting you, and he wondered if you believed that because it was the last words you heard from the siren or if they were actually after you, because if that was the case…
That meant trouble. If a siren spotted him with a human, much less a siren-hunter? Yeosang already had a bad reputation among the sirens.
And then there was the matter of you and Yeosang unintentionally, coincidentally targeting the same sirens. He thought about it all night and he was almost sure it had been his family who killed yours. Because he had been there. He had witnessed all of it.
And he couldn’t let you know.
It was good- you were going to kill two birds with one stone. He just hoped you wouldn’t have to find out about him being one of the sirens present when your parents were killed. Those very sirens had taken his voice too. If you were out to kill them, so be it. He would help you, but he would have to stay lowkey. If they found out Yeosang himself was helping the infamous siren-hunter…
He shivered at the thought, prompting you to stop your longsword practice and glance at him. “Feeling cold already? We’re miles away from Sheratan.”
It was usually snowing in Sheratan, but that wouldn’t affect him too much. “If sirens felt cold, they wouldn’t be spending their whole lives on the sea.”
“True,” you nodded, swinging your sword once again, testing its weight. “But aren’t you… a little human now?”
“Is cold the only reason humans shiver?” Yeosang wondered. “Maybe I sensed something strange- ah. I did.”
You turned your attention towards him, taking a look around. “What is it?”
“Humans,” Yeosang dropped the ball of yarn he had been playing with, shifting so he could stare into the distance. As if on cue, San popped out of the helm and found you looking through the lens of your telescope.
“Pirates,” you tsk-ed. “Two days and we’re already in trouble.”
“I’ll speed the boat away as much as I can,” San announced. “Pirates usually have a few sorcerers on board too so I don’t think we can really avoid an encounter at this point… we might have to negotiate.”
“Can we offer him in case they want something?” You pointed at Yeosang who looked amused.
“Good luck finding your sirens after I’m gone,” he simply said and you made a face, knowing it was the truth.
“Shit, I gotta protect you then,” you muttered. “The pirates will think you’re the treasure if they find a siren without its voice.”
“Ah, how the tables have turned,” Yeosang got up to join you, taking the telescope and trying to get an idea of how much time he had to plan something. “Well, lucky for you, I can still breathe underwater. As soon as they’re in your vision, let me know and I’ll just dive into the sea. You both can negotiate on your own then.”
“And if we find ourselves in trouble?”
“Then you know that I haven’t lost my voice completely,” he leaned in to whisper in your ear, making you shiver this time. “Cold?”
You pushed Yeosang away, wondering how immune you really were to the song of the sirens if his normal voice was making you react this much. Yeosang laughed to himself as he went to hide his belongings in the secret compartment of the boat. You stationed yourself at the bow, waiting for the pirate ship to become visible through the fog. The boat sped and started sailing further north-east but the ship was becoming more visible with each passing second and Yeosang started taking off the layers of clothing-
“Woah, woah,” you fanned yourself, unable to hide the heat creeping up your cheeks as you got a peek at his sculpted body- there was no way you were going to drool for a siren. “A little shame would do you no harm.”
Yeosang tsk-ed. “I would like to come back to dry clothes, thank you very much,” he bundled his clothes, thankfully keeping the pants on, tossing them to you with a wink. “Be back soon.”
With that, he dived into the sea and you watched him disappear into the dark depths of the ocean. When your heart rate steadied a bit (you made a mental note to think about why your heart couldn’t handle a half-naked siren), you stuffed his clothes in your bag and went inside the cockpit, taking control of the boat while San went outside to deal with the pirates who were now in your vision.
You could hear the low rumbling of their laughter as a few of them jumped on your boat, passing you sleazy looks. You ignored them, slowing the boat as instructed by San.
“Fancy seeing you here, Choi San,” one of them said. You wondered if he was an acquaintance but San didn’t look too pleased to see them. Maybe they had met in a similar encounter before. “You’ve got a guest, it seems. Only one?”
“Only her,” San said. “We’re going to Sheratan. What about you?”
“Sailing around the continent,” the man adjusted his sword hanging by his side. “Anything of interest you heard or seen lately?”
“Nothing much,” San took a deep breath, appearing very casual. “Just got some food and found someone who needed to travel.”
“I see,” he walked around slowly, observing his surroundings while what you assumed were his lackeys snickered, stealing some apples from the basket in the corner. “We have someone on board who needs to go to Sheratan too. Perhaps… you could do us a favour and rid us off him. We’re getting tired of his lamenting.”
“Oh?” San looked as surprised as he sounded. “That’s new. Don’t you kill anyone who annoys you?”
You wondered who the man was- he sent a dark glare in San’s direction and he tensed. “This one we can’t kill. Man’s the siren-hunter we’ve heard so much about. I bet he could give the sirens a run for their money with his songs.”
Your heart sank to your feet and as if on cue, you spotted the familiar figure of the only other siren-hunter alive, dangling by the edge. The man didn’t ask for permission- he shouted at the siren-hunter to get his stuff and get his ass down on your boat. You looked at San helplessly but his face gave away nothing, even though he appeared tense.
When you heard a low thud, you finally stepped out of the helm and nodded at the man you assumed must be the captain or the mate, catching the attention of the siren-hunter-
“Oh, y/n. What a coincidence. She’s the siren-hunter I told you about- the marauder. Really skilled- could shoot you all dead by the next second.”
“Jongho,” you greeted. Choi Jongho, the one siren-hunter that every sea creature feared- siren or not. The reaper who spared none. “You’re exaggerating.”
Jongho only grinned. “I hope you don’t mind my company- I really need to get to Sheratan. Urgent business- I was lucky to have found someone going in that direction,” he pointed towards the man who looked surprised to find himself in the company of not one but two siren-hunters. “And it seems I’m luckier to have found you.”
“Of course,” you smiled, the approval tasting bitter in your tongue. There was no way he would let Yeosang live. You contemplated proving Jongho’s point and killing everyone in your vicinity including him. “We should reach our destination in two days.”
“Perfect,” Jongho clapped, tossing his bag elsewhere and shaking hands with the man. “It’s been a pleasure, Captain. I hope we can cross paths again on the sea.”
He passed a weak smile, obviously not having found Jongho’s company as pleasing, and after thanking San telling him he owed him one, he went back to his ship and steered it away from your boat. San whistled. “The Captain is in my debt. Never in my lifetime have I thought I would see this day.”
“You’ll have to thank me,” Jongho said, laughing. “I gave him a hard time. He wanted to get rid of me so bad. The only thing keeping him from throwing me off board was the fact that I just saved them from a group of sirens.”
“Really?” You frowned. “Not around Mesarthim, were they?”
“No, why?”
“Because they’re mine to kill,” you muttered. “Remember?”
“Ah, yes,” Jongho nodded enthusiastically. “My offer is still on the table. You can ask me if you want some help.”
You bit your lips, looking at San and silently holding a conversation with him. San shrugged as if to say that there was no other choice.
And there was no other choice, really. You would have to tell Jongho about Yeosang.
But the thing about Jongho was… he hated sirens. He himself had survived the sirens by singing back to them and driving them crazy, was what you had heard though you never asked him if that was true. And then he had made it his life’s mission to hunt sirens- he learned to be immune. He was the ultimate weapon against sirens.
Why would he ever spare Yeosang? He would kill him first and think later. He would tell you you didn’t need Yeosang- yes, Jongho was kind and a good friend, but he was also scary and powerful-
You heard the splash of waves around your boat and you shut your eyes, bracing yourself for-
“Oh… we have company.”
Jongho turned towards the source, frowning when he saw Yeosang, his wet hair thankfully hiding the mark on his temple that would have given his identity away instantly. “And who are you?”
“San, can you tell him to disappear for a few minutes?” You finally sighed and San nodded eagerly, filling him in and putting his hand on his head, practically dunking him back in the sea while a confused Jongho watched the scene unfold in front of his eyes.
“Is he trying to kill him or what?” Jongho turned to you.
You scanned him once- he was wearing a jacket which meant he must be hiding daggers on his upper body. There were no visible weapons otherwise. “I have a favour to ask.”
“Shoot.”
You took a deep breath again, deeming Yeosang safe. “That man… he is um… a siren but a human, if you will-
And immediately, Jongho was reaching for his inside pocket and you grabbed his arm- “No, listen! Please hear me out first before you decide to kill him.”
Jongho wasn’t having any of it. “You had a siren on board? You’re supposed to be a siren-hunter, y/n.”
“I still am,” you glared at him. “That man- Yeosang- he is a siren, yes, but he no longer has his voice. Do you understand what that means?”
That finally made Jongho take his hand out of his pocket, clutching a dagger. “No.”
“Apparently he lost his voice a few years ago, which means he’s not a siren anymore. Oh, and he lives on land now. He’s practically human. He wasn’t a normal siren anyway- he prefers chicken over humans-”
“I’ll do the explaining,” Yeosang peeked out from the other edge of the boat, dodging the dagger Jongho aimed at his head with ease. He appeared out of the water, soaking wet, and proceeded to enter the boat and search through his bags-
Only to take out a towel and rub it over his head.
You groaned loudly- you wondered sometimes if Yeosang had a death wish. He was far too reckless to be normal. Jongho looked confused as well and you took the chance to steer him to the nearest chair, making him sit and then ordering Yeosang to sit in front of him.
“We talk like civil human beings-”
“He’s a siren, though,” Jongho finally noticed Yeosang’s scaly skin on his temple. “I’m not having a conversation with a siren.”
You turned to San for help who looked like he was enjoying this way too much. You stepped between the two glaring at each other with folded arms. “This is my mission, and I am not going to let a stupid, sorry excuse of a siren and a thick-headed siren-hunter ruining it, is that clear?”
Jongho scoffed but nodded. “Let’s hear you then.”
“Yeosang,” you said, going to stand behind him, putting your hands on his bare shoulders for emphasis and finding them surprisingly warm. “Is a harmless siren. He is… a vegetarian in terms of sirens, if you may.”
Yeosang snorted at that but you slapped his shoulder and continued. “He is going to help me pinpoint the specific group of sirens that I need to hunt. Only he can do that. You don’t have to kill him, Jongho. He is on his way to become a siren-hunter too.”
Jongho looked impressed. “What grudge do you hold?”
“They took my voice, and it does not belong to them. It is mine, even if I choose not to use it,” Yeosang said and you felt satisfied to hear his stern tone. “I can still sing, but it’s not the same. Also, she’s right. I don’t enjoy humans too much. Never did.”
“Now, Jongho,” you went to stand behind him, threateningly rubbing his shoulders. “You are not going to kill my guest. I will kill him myself if such a need arises. You can either join me on my mission or we can drop you off at Sheratan on the condition that you don’t tell a soul about Yeosang.”
“I would join you, though I wouldn’t have told anyone anyway,” he looked pointedly at Yeosang. “But I do not like being in the company of a siren.”
“Neither do I,” you told him. “But let’s tolerate him until our mission is over, please? You can kill him later.”
Yeosang tsk-ed. “So much for helping you. Humans,” he spat, picking his towel and spreading it on the clothesline, wearing his shirt back.
“Are you sure he’s a siren?” Jongho asked as he watched him set his little camp back. “I would believe you if you tell me he’s just a human.”
You finally relaxed, smiling. “I don’t know what his deal is, but… he’s an odd one, for sure. Don’t kill him, okay?”
“Okay,” Jongho shrugged. “Don’t expect us to get along though.”
—-----------------------------
You weren’t sure how, within a day, it came to the scene unfolding in front of your eyes, but Jongho was choking Yeosang as he threatened to throw him into the sea. For a split second, you wondered if you needed to remind Jongho that being in the sea would only help Yeosang, but then… Jongho probably knew.
“Say sorry,” Jongho’s voice was dangerously low. You scanned your surroundings, finding nothing odd except for San simply watching the two without doing anything about it. It hadn’t been too long with San but you found that he was someone who enjoyed chaos unfolding in front of him. He wouldn’t be one to step in and stop them, so you decided to do the deed.
“Not one moment of peace,” you muttered, starting towards them, Yeosang struggling to laugh. You scoffed to yourself- you needed to scold Yeosang for the lack of regard for his own life. Jongho repeated his order to Yeosang before you could reach them and do something about it, and Yeosang tapped Jongho’s shoulder.
“...Okay, I’m sorry!” Yeosang struggled to breathe and you paused- you weren’t sure if Yeosang’s lack of breath was due to Jongho restricting his air intake or because he couldn’t stop laughing.
Jongho let him go and Yeosang almost fell face-first into the sea. He laughed to himself while Jongho brushed his clothes, smirking. You put your hands over your hips, shooting a glare in the siren-hunter’s direction.
“What the hell was that?” You asked.
Before Jongho could answer, Yeosang called, “I was wrong, I admit it.”
Your brows rose in surprise- Yeosang admitting his mistake? Was it a good decision to bring Jongho on board after all-
“I was wrong,” Yeosang scoffed. “You’re not cute, Jongho. You’re very cute, actually-”
Jongho whipped around to throw a dagger in his direction and Yeosang nearly got struck, too busy laughing to properly avoid his death. San pumped the siren further, urging him to run for his life if he wanted to see tomorrow and you, arms limp by your sides and jaw hanging open, watched the siren-hunter chase the siren like a cat would chase a mouse.
It wasn’t until San put a finger below your chin and shut your mouth that you realised you had been zoning out. You looked at San in disbelief. “Tell me I’m dreaming.”
San stifled a grin. “Unfortunately… you’re not.”
“When did they get so… chummy?” You watched Jongho intently listen to Yeosang explain why he thought Jongho was cute and you wondered if Yeosang had sung and bewitched Jongho somehow.
“I have no idea,” San finally laughed, finding the situation both hilarious and unbelievable. “But far better than having them at each other’s throats, right?”
San was right and you suddenly saw Yeosang in a newfound light- or perhaps you had been ignoring this fact on purpose. The fact that Yeosang didn’t have to use his voice to captivate people- there was just something about him, and heck, he wasn’t even fully siren. He was very human but he was unconsciously drawing people to him. Jongho was not the kind of person you could crack and yet here he was, the reaper now laughing with a siren over something they found funny.
“I distinctly remember you insisting you would never get along with a siren,” you joined the two in Yeosang’s little corner, slumping down in front of them. “I’m really confused right now.”
“It was only a matter of time,” Yeosang said cheekily and Jongho rolled his eyes in response, though he couldn’t stifle his smile. He was kind of bad at hiding his feelings.
“I figured I’d get to know the enemy better by getting close,” he shrugged and you scoffed.
“And? Have you learned something?”
“He’s an odd one,” Jongho turned towards you, finally finding the opportunity to talk about that fact out loud, waiting for San to settle down too before he continued. “Sure, he doesn’t like to eat humans, which is strange enough for a siren, but… look at this?”
San chuckled at the way Jongho pointed at all the crocheting Yeosang had been doing ever since getting on the boat. “Apparently sirens have hobbies too, Jongho. You find that strange?”
“A siren’s gotta do something to pass his time,” Yeosang pouted, shoving the in-progress crochet out of Jongho’s probing gaze. “I was making hats for you all. Should I not?”
You put a hand on your heart, touched. “You were?”
“Not for you,” Yeosang stuck his tongue out. “For San. He’s been kind to me. And for Jongho because I don’t want him to kill me yet.”
San bowed in thanks and you made a sour face. “Why not for me? I like hats too.”
“You’re just using me to kill me later,” Yeosang sighed dramatically.
“I might change my mind if you make me one,” you offered but Yeosang wasn’t buying it and you looked to San for help who waved a hand at Yeosang.
“You shouldn’t leave someone out. We’re in this together.”
“Yes, and I saved you last night,” you pointed out. “If those pirates saw you or if I didn’t negotiate with Jongho, you would have been long dead.”
Yeosang locked eyes with you. “You sure about that?”
You leaned in, “I’m sure. And this tactic doesn’t work on me, Yeosang. I see right through you. You can act tough all you want.”
Yeosang whistled in approval. “No hats for you.”
You told him that he could keep his damned hats for himself. And to prove his point further, as soon as you reached the shore of Sheratan the next day, you spotted an old lady selling knitted clothes and you took the chance to buy a black hat for yourself- even though it was expensive. You told yourself it wasn’t just out of spite but also because it was extremely windy and cold here.
Yeosang was quite amused at the sight of you and couldn’t help but comment on it. “Jealous?”
“Please, if you were human, you’d know it’s a necessity at this point,” you clenched your jaw to prevent the chattering of your teeth. “Quite rude of you to not make me one.”
“I got something better for you, but you weren’t nice enough to ask for it,” Yeosang tsk-ed and you frowned, turning to him. He unzipped the bag hanging by his shoulder and produced a black muffler just like the one he was wearing and to your surprise, proceeded to wrap it around your neck.
“I don’t hate you, y/n,” he tucked the ends under your jacket and you thought you could hear familiar snickers from behind you but you were too busy gaping at the siren to care. “Even though you hunt my people… I don’t hate you. I understand your reasons. I just hope you understand mine,” he said, taking a step back to admire how his creation looked on you.
“...Thank you, Yeosang,” you finally glanced down, admiring the muffler. “And you must understand that I have a hard time being around you. I may warm up to you but at the end of the day, I can’t deny who you really are.”
“And that’s okay,” he nodded. “You look stupid in that hat by the way.”
“Yeah?” You scoffed immediately in response, glad he wasn’t making it awkward. “You’re just mad it’s not your hat I’m wearing.”
“You’re making it sound like I wanted you to wear something I made,” Yeosang pretended to throw up. “I only gave you that muffler because I couldn’t tolerate the sound of your teeth chattering. And because I don’t want you to freeze to death before you get me my voice back.”
“Whatever you say, pretty boy,” you teased, having picked that name from Jongho. Coming from Jongho, Yeosang didn’t seem to care but now he looked almost offended. Before he could retort, San finally decided to remind you all why you were here.
“Are we having lunch first or do we get straight to business?”
After a majority vote for lunch first, you dined at a local restaurant that had some amazing side dishes. San knew the area quite well and he told you that to find your ebony arrows, you would need to travel deeper into the town and get to the other side where there was a specific area designated for the growth of rare plants maintained by sorcerers.
“So these ebony trees, why are they so scarce around the world?” Jongho asked.
“They didn’t use to be,” San told him as if letting him in on a secret. “Sorcerers are to blame. They had to make a living somehow, so they went around destroying some of the rarest plants around the world just to build a greenhouse here and become the only providers.”
“I did not know that,” you frowned.
“It happened about a century ago, and you won’t find this in the books,” San winked. “I saw your arrows earlier, by the way. The ebony one seems to have some sort of a spell on it?”
“A single graze and the siren dies,” you told him and he whistled. “I had a sorcerer help me with that.”
“That’s a strange spell,” San shook his head in thought. “Are you sure that’s the spell on it?”
“I have no reason to doubt it,” you shrugged. “I’ve heard about similar spells so this must be it.”
“It just feels strange, but maybe it’s because of the medium- the ebony…” San decided to let it go. “Shall we get the horses now?”
—------------------------
“I don’t know, y/n,” San told you, shaking his head in denial. “It just doesn’t feel right. Why can’t you use the arrows we got from Sheratan? I’m pretty sure your aim is good enough.”
“I only have one shot at this, quite literally, San,” you told him, referring to your old ebony arrow. You had three more from your visit to Sheratan. “I can’t risk losing the other arrows too.”
“Maybe you should.” Yeosang butted in, and you rolled your eyes. “What if you miss and kill someone you’re not meant to kill?”
“One less siren to worry about then,” you muttered.
“What if you accidentally graze yourself?”
“If I was that clumsy, I would have died three years ago, Yeosang,” you laughed a little. “Thanks for worrying about my wellbeing.”
“I’m not worrying about your wellbeing,” Yeosang began but when your smirk grew, he simply waved his hands in defeat and sank down in his corner.
You turned to San once again. “You’re a sorcerer, and I trust you, San. What feels so weird about that arrow?”
“The magic has a dark element about it, and I can’t tell if that’s all there is or if it’s the surface of something deeper,” San sighed deeply. “What I mean is that it could have been tampered with or it isn’t what the sorcerer told you it is. There’s no way I can test it either. Maybe just avoid the arrow if you can?”
“Alright,” you nodded. “Maybe I should have listened to you and got the arrow cross-examined when you insisted back in Sheratan.”
“That’s okay, just use the simple arrows,” San felt relieved and you smiled at him, watching him join Jongho.
San had first brought this up when you showed the arrows to the sorcerers in the greenhouse in Sheratan. They had confirmed that the arrow was of the ebony wood that grew right there, and had inquired about the spell on it. You had told them about the sorcerer who went by the name of the Wanderer. The sorcerers looked at each other after hearing that and upon asking, they told you that your sorcerer didn’t have a good reputation around here. You figured if a sorcerer was indirectly targeting sirens through you, he definitely wouldn’t have the best reputation. But after leaving, San had asked about the details of how you met him.
“I met him three years ago while going through a tough spot sailing on my own,” you told him. “I almost drowned but he spotted me and helped me. When he learned who I was, he was very intrigued and offered me the arrow.”
“Just like that?” San found it strange.
“He had a grudge with some sirens too, but he thought he could never get revenge so he decided to forget or something. And I was not going to miss the opportunity when there was a free ebony arrow right in front of me.”
You could tell why San felt conflicted so you picked that arrow out of the quiver and gave it to San. “Keep it safe.”
San smiled and went inside the cockpit and you felt the burning gaze of a certain someone. “What?”
“I can’t believe you’re giving up the arrow now that we’re so close to Mesarthim,” Yeosang said and you turned to him.
“Ebony arrows are fatal to sirens, and I have three of them. Three are enough,” you said. “Besides, if I need to kill you, I’ll still have that arrow, damned be the consequences.”
Yeosang scoffed in amusement. “You think those sirens will let you be after you kill them? You think there will only be a few of them?”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “You said you lived there, but you’ve been suspiciously quiet since letting out that information. And now you’re warning me? When we’re right around the corner?” You pointed towards the ominous dark cloud in the sky- the telltale signs of a storm that seemed to be a constant surrounding Mesarthim Island. Jongho, who had been sitting on the edge with his legs dangling, raised a brow at you both.
“I don’t think you need my warning,” Yeosang folded his arms. “You know what it’s like there. You’ve hunted sirens. I haven’t been to that area in about a decade. But if you think you’ll just go trespassing in and killing a few of them and return? You’re wrong.”
“And that’s what he’s here for,” you pointed at Jongho. “And aren’t these the very sirens you want to hunt as well?”
Jongho muttered something like ‘interesting’ while Yeosang gaped at you. “How did you figure it out?”
“Like I said, you’ve been awfully quiet, which must mean the sirens who took your voice are also there. I don’t know how many sirens live there or if we’re hunting the same ones, but first, you’re helping me kill my sirens, and then we help you. I hope you haven’t forgotten the deal.”
“I haven’t,” Yeosang’s voice was low. “You might not have to help me at all.”
Before you could ask what he meant by that, a loud thunder sounded making you jump a little. Tiny droplets started to fall as the boat rocked unevenly with the rough waves and you began wrapping a scarf around your head so your hair wouldn’t get in the way. Jongho checked the weapons he had docked up on again and you peeked inside to see San struggling to steer the ship. You turned to Yeosang. “I think it’s about time you hide. And remember to wear earplugs unless you want to get killed by Jongho.”
“I’m kind of loud,” Jongho grinned. “So I can’t guarantee you won’t get bewitched by me.”
“I still don’t get why everyone thinks it’s totally normal that a human can bewitch sirens,” Yeosang muttered under his breath as he started covering his head and face- he couldn’t be spotted by the sirens here. “Remember to signal me if you need me.”
“Got it,” Jongho said and Yeosang went towards the other corner. You walked to stand next to Jongho, now spotting the faint outskirts of the island through the fog.
“I think there’s something Yeosang is not telling me, and it might be related to my parent’s death,” you whispered and Jongho looked at you in surprise. “Either he knows something about it or…”
“I don’t know, y/n,” he pursed his lips. “Why would he bring you here willingly then? Ulterior motive?”
“He does need his voice back. This could be a trap.”
“Good thing you have me then, eh?” Jongho smirked and you rolled your eyes but you knew that was true. “I won’t butt in until you tell me to, so stay safe, okay? No hasty moves.”
“No hasty moves,” you confirmed and stationed yourself on the edge of the boat, waiting.
The fog only grew thicker and though you had better hearing now, you were wondering if you would ever hear the sirens since the waves were too loud- along with the beating of your heart.
You were finally here. After eleven years, you were here to avenge your parents. Everything about this moment was familiar and nostalgic in an upsetting way. It had been stormy just like today. You had huddled next to your parents who looked worried along with the few other people on the boat. The sailor had been having a hard time steering it away from the red zone.
You shivered when you recalled the moment everyone fell silent and started listening to the sirens. That was your last intact memory before everything got muddled. You took a deep breath, fisting the daggers that hung by your hips, the longsword and quiver hanging on your back, bow on your shoulder. San started steering towards the red zone with his ears safely plugged despite the spell he had put on himself to not get lured by the sirens.
This had to end well.
Right then, you heard the faint humming of a siren and you looked through your binoculars, clicking your tongue in disappointment- the fog was far too thick today and the rain was only getting worse. You reminded Jongho to stay alert and only kill if necessary and then you loaded one of the ebony arrows, waiting to spot the faces of the sirens that had been the product of your nightmares.
You could hear the low humming but this one was different- they were not trying to lure you. You looked at Jongho for confirmation and he nodded. You glanced at Yeosang who was huddled in the corner, looking surprised. You inched closer to him, asking him what was up with the sirens.
“They’re not luring you,” he whispered. “They’re sending a warning call and alerting the others. They recognise us.”
“What do you reckon we should do?”
“I think it’s better if I stop hiding once they confirm they know I’m here, and then I can help you out.”
“I don’t trust you though,” you told him.
“I don’t trust you to hand me over to the sirens who will gladly kill me, but here we are,” he locked eyes with you and for a moment, your heart twitched in sympathy. The humming started to grow louder and harmonious.
“You still haven’t told me why they want to kill you,” you loaded your arrow back, aiming in the direction of the humming.
And just like that, the humming stopped entirely, an eerie silence taking over. You looked through your binoculars and found the faint figures standing still on the numerous rocks bordering the island until one of them spoke.
“One who betrays his blood has no right to return, much less with the enemy. How dare you?”
For a second, you wondered if all your spells had worn off in that moment- the sharp voice sounded inside you. It shook you to your core, and you realised then that Yeosang was right- he really had lost his voice.
Yeosang looked at you as if to say his point was proven, and then he removed the scarf from his face. “You could say I brought a gift… dear old sister.”
You almost lost your footing when you heard that and as the boat drew closer to the rocks, you finally saw a glimpse of the owner of that voice. Your limbs felt limp as recognition settled in and you struggled to breathe-
The face of the siren who killed your mother.
“Shoot, y/n.”
You slowly turned to Yeosang who was now beside you, glaring at who he had called his sister. There was no way… right? There was no way-
You let out a whimper and hastily covered your ears as the siren screamed- perhaps, you should have used those earplugs too. Yeosang tsk-ed painfully and yelled at San to stick to the current route, extracting a dagger from your belt and throwing it with full force at the siren, effectively silencing her as she dodged it and snarled at him, whistling loudly and alerting the other sirens.
“Get a grip, y/n. It’s gonna get messier than I thought,” Yeosang muttered, helping you up and brushing away the stray hair from your face, cupping it for good measure. “This is it, okay? You and I have the same enemy- I’ll explain later, but for now, let’s get rid of them. Okay?”
You nodded, unable to answer verbally and he went to the cockpit to borrow some weapons. You looked at Jongho who was clutching his daggers, waiting for your signal to sing, but he would have to wait a bit more.
You had some unfinished business with a few sirens.
“Yeosang,” you called when he came out with his own bow and arrows. “That siren is the one I’m after- but that’s not the only one. There were more.”
“I understand,” Yeosang aimed an arrow at his sister. “They’ll be right behind her. I’ll take the left and you take the right.”
Thus, the battle began. You kept the simple wooden arrows for the other sirens, the two of you shooting in succession. Jongho kept your backs safe as San dived right into the siren territory and it looked like the sirens had figured out that none of you would give in to their songs- you were spotting glints of silver from the corner of your eyes so you started scanning the crowd of sirens until you spotted another familiar face.
“I’ve found him,” you told Yeosang, motioning towards the male siren with its familiar long blonde hair. “That one killed my father.”
“He has a thing for men,” Yeosang rolled his eyes. “Sorry to tell you that he’s my cousin, of sorts.”
“I’ll deal with you later,” you muttered angrily, extracting one of the three ebony arrows. “I’m going for him.”
You aimed for the siren’s chest and just as the siren met eyes with you having swum from the island to the rocks, you shut your eyes for a second, saying a silent prayer, ignoring the harsh wind and rain, and dismissing the wailing of the sirens.
For you, dad.
You let the arrow loose and when it hit home, you let yourself rejoice for only a second. And then the siren fell on its knees and the other sirens dived into the sea, swimming towards your boat.
“Fuck,” you called Jongho to get back to the centre of the boat. “Yeosang! We’re covering Jongho until we cannot take it anymore.”
“Got it!” He yelled over the storm, getting closer and stealing a few arrows from your quiver. “I’m taking this ebony arrow.”
“Be my guest,” you couldn’t help but share a grin with him. The boat rocked dangerously and San appeared out of the cockpit, his eyes almost glowing.
“The boat will remain as stable as it can, I’ll make sure the sirens don’t mess with my property.”
You made an impressed face and then you heard a splash, a siren climbing on the boat. You immediately sent an arrow for its head which it dodged but Yeosang was quick to redeem you. Two other sirens started climbing from opposite ends and while you shot at them, a few others appeared until it became a cycle of shooting at them while they tried to get nearer. San had some sort of spell going on where phantom hands were throwing the sirens away from the cockpit and Jongho sent dagger after dagger with impeccable aim.
“Y/n, you need to know when to stop, okay? I’m not going to wait for your signal if I think we’re in danger,” Jongho reminded you.
“That one,” you pointed at Yeosang’s sister, still on the rocks watching with an evil smirk on her face, “That one I’ll kill with my own hands, and then we can do whatever.”
The siren seemed to get that message and it dived into the sea. You loaded the last ebony arrow, waiting to spot her but-
Yeosang hissed in pain as a siren raked its nails across his chest and you jerked in surprise- when did the sirens get this close? You instinctively let the arrow loose and killed that siren, turning to assess the damage. Yeosang seemed pale but he shook it off.
“Where’s your ebony arrow?”
“One of the sirens almost killed you with your own arrow,” he explained. “I got to her first.”
You shook your head. “I’ll take care of the rest, get back. Your sister might kill you before I get the chance.”
“No, they’re too much,” he shot an arrow at another siren who got too close. You unsheathed the longsword.
“It’s about time I put this to practice,” you told him and taking a deep breath, you started going after the sirens one by one. They were quick to match your pace with their long and sharp nails which were weapons enough. You slashed their scaly skins, glad it wasn’t sunny here because their glow would have blinded your naked eyes. You managed to get a few of them with only a few scratches and when you took a break, you spotted your target about to take out San who was now in the cockpit steering the boat away from the island-
“Jongho, get her!” You shouted and Jongho sent two daggers for the siren who dodged them, disappearing from your sight. You circled around that enclosed space with your bloody sword stretched out, hearing your own heartbeat in your ears-
And your heart sank in the worst way when you spotted your target with one of your ebony arrows going after Yeosang. You sent a dagger for her which wedged in her shoulder and she let out a cry of pain, alerting Yeosang but she didn’t let it hold her back- she almost jumped on top of Yeosang and they clawed at each other until she overpowered him, seizing him with the tip of the arrow resting on his chest, ready to be lodged in his heart if any of you made the wrong move. You paused in your tracks as she looked at you threateningly, assessing the damage.
“So many of us killed by your hands, brother dearest,” her melodic voice rang. “What would mother think?”
“Bet she would love this sight,” Yeosang was still in her grasp.
“And what would your mother think?” The siren asked you and your blood ran cold. “What would she think when she learns you’re lowering your weapons to save a siren?”
You looked at Jongho who shook his head- you were compromised. If he started singing now, Yeosang could get hurt. You turned to look at San who was glaring at the siren. He met your eyes and signalled at his side-
The ebony arrow you received from the sorcerer. You still had that.
You tried not to let it show as you looked back at the siren- she must be thinking you were defenceless now. “Let him go and we can have a fair fight,” you tried.
“I don’t want to,” she shook her head, her black locks flowing behind her. Everything about her was as beautiful as Yeosang, if not more, but Yeosang didn’t share the horridness a siren had. “And you,” she looked at her brother. “Did you know that killing me means you might not get your voice back?”
“I’d kill you anyway, I’m very tempted to,” Yeosang muttered and she scoffed, digging the arrow into his chest until he winced in pain. You bit your lip, sheathing your sword and clutching your bow.
“Let him go,” Jongho tried. “I could make all of you go mad right now. You might have heard of me- the reaper, your kind calls me.”
“Oh, I’ve heard all about you. Didn’t expect you to look so… human,” she scanned him. “But you should know that your singing won’t work on me. I possess more than one voice, after all.”
You knew then- Yeosang's sister must have been one of the people who took his voice, which meant she was dangerous. Killing her meant that there was a chance Yeosang wouldn’t get his voice back, but…
You had to save Yeosang. There was no other option.
As if Yeosang could hear you, he nodded subtly. He could probably see San slowly creeping near you. While Jongho distracted the siren, San threw the arrow towards you and you caught it, immediately loading it in your bow and aiming it for the siren’s head- and all hell broke loose.
The sirens who had been waiting for orders went after you and Jongho. San used his phantom hands to keep them away and while Yeosang’s sister watched in surprise, you let the arrow loose before she could hurt him.
One graze, and the siren would be dead. All you needed was for the arrow to graze the siren. Yeosang pushed his sister with all his might so she would stay in place and between her attempts to dodge it, the arrow grazed her cheekbone, drawing blood and clattering loudly on the ground- you wondered if the clatter was louder than the thunder booming in the sky. Before you could react further, Yeosang snatched the arrow from her hand and stabbed her heart.
“This is for taking what does not belong to you,” he practically growled, watching his sister fall on her knees, blood spilling from her mouth so dark that it looked black.
“You… you’re killing your own?”
“You almost killed me- a decade ago and today,” Yeosang pulled the arrow out of her body, making her fall on the ground. The other sirens stood watching, unsure how to respond especially after Jongho revealed his identity. “My voice belongs to me, even if I never use it. Even if I never kill a human with it. You all,” Yeosang locked eyes with every siren on the boat. “Take her back. Let her rest with our parents. And let this be a reminder to all of you to not mess with one of your own.”
The sirens looked scared of Yeosang and you wondered who he really was. Why were they obeying him and not killing him? You and San stood side by side, watching the sirens help each other and hiss at you both for hurting them, none of them daring to sing or attack you. Yeosang sat beside his sister with both the arrows, waiting for her suffering to stop and when her body fell limp, he shut her eyes and pressed a kiss to her forehead. He took off her necklace and pocketed it before asking the sirens to take her.
Even the storm seemed to have calmed a bit as the sirens left, silence filling the boat until Jongho looked at Yeosang. “You… you need to answer a lot of questions.”
Yeosang nodded slowly, turning to face you and stumbling in the process. You shook your head, going to him and helping him stay upright. “You’re hurt, you fool. You need to sit down and let me see it.”
He nodded, letting you help him to his corner and you sat him down, looking behind you to see Jongho collecting the weapons and San steering the boat away from the wretched island. You took a deep breath, turning back to Yeosang who was staring at you intently, making you blink in surprise.
“I’m going to, uh, unbutton your shirt- it’s already tattered anyway,” you swallowed the lump in your throat. “Stop staring at me while I do my work.”
“Not how I imagined you would undress me,” Yeosang said in a low voice so only you would hear. “That’s all I’ll say.”
You shut your eyes in mild annoyance. “Not the time to make jokes, siren. You’re hurt quite badly,” you assessed the several claw marks on his chest. “Don’t you have healing powers or something?”
“They’re quite slow now since I stopped acting like a siren,” he admitted. “But I’ll heal- just get me the potion in my bag, there,” he pointed at his bag and you nodded, opening the zip and finding several vials.
“Which one exactly?” You frowned. “Did you bring the whole cabinet with you or something?”
“The one with the purple cap,” Yeosang groaned in pain as he shifted. You tossed the bottle to him, going to your own bag to get your first aid kit and flipping Jongho who wiggled his brows at your concerned face. You settled down next to him and took out a bottle of alcohol.
“I don’t know how your body heals, but I’ll do it the traditional way. Don’t want you getting infected now that you finally got your voice back, do we?” You looked at him. “How would you know you got it back?”
“When her spirit leaves her entirely, that’s when the magic will work,” he told you. You started cleaning his wounds and he clenched his jaw in pain.
“Did you know all this time that it was your family that killed mine?”
“Are you really going to get answers like this?” Yeosang hissed in pain when you pressed purposefully on his wound.
“I think now’s a good time, Yeosang,” you tried not to sound amused. “On a serious note… did you know?”
“I didn’t connect the dots until you told me what my sister said to you right before sparing you,” he admitted. “My sister has always been rogue. We were not raised like this- yes, we hunted humans but she broke a lot of rules,” he took a breather while you continued cleaning his wounds. “And she broke a big rule when she decided to declare me an outcast and took my voice. I would have hunted her down one day. People like her really shouldn’t be in charge of the community.”
“Can’t say I feel sorry for her,” you muttered, starting to bandage the slashes on his chest. “Now, when are you going to tell me where you were when they killed my parents?”
Yeosang fell silent and he waited until you finished bandaging him. “When you overcome the trauma and your memories return to you… you’ll know where I was.”
“Do you have to do this?” you asked him, defeated. “Do you have to make me confused? You’re literally related by blood to the sirens who killed my family, and then you take me to them so I can kill them, save my life multiple times-”
“You saved mine too-”
“And won’t tell me what your role was in the attack a decade ago?” You let out an exasperated sigh. “I really start seeing you as a human sometimes. I really think you’re better than the sirens who are monsters in every sense. I don’t think you are a monster, Yeosang, but if you continue to play with my head-”
A sharp ache, almost like a stab, spread through your chest, making you double up and cough loudly while Yeosang’s breath got caught and he struggled to breathe, falling on his side. You could hear the faint sounds of Jongho and San rushing to the two of you and patting your cheek to make you come back to your senses but you gave in to the pull of the pain as everything went black.
—----------------------
“Too strange to be a coincidence.”
“The timing is very off- and the arrow, I swear it glowed for a second. And then she faints just like Yeosang? Yeosang’s getting his voice back, but what is her reason?”
You groaned loudly, stretching your limbs and making them crack in the process, your mouth curving in pain- it felt like every muscle in your body was cramped. Everything started to feel too much as you regained consciousness and you shut your eyes-
The light was too bright. Their whispering was too loud. Their cautious touches on your body were too much.
“Stop,” your cracked voice sounded and you felt a cold hand tap your cheek.
“Open your eyes, y/n. Look at me.”
“Not now,” you tried wiggling away from Yeosang but he put a hand on your shoulder, preventing you from rolling away and after taking a few deep breaths having curled into yourself miserably, you finally opened your eyes.
“Oh dear,” Yeosang looked at Jongho and San who were equally shocked. “You seeing this?”
“What?” You croaked again, getting up with immense effort and motioning at Jongho to pass you the water bottle near him which you gulped hungrily. “What happened? I fainted?”
“Not just fainted,” San began but paused, wondering how to word it. “How are you feeling right now?”
“Honestly? In pain,” you admitted, looking at Yeosang. “What happened to you? Why did you faint- why did we faint together?” You frowned deeply. “Did you do something?”
“Did I look like I could do anything?” He reminded you of the wounds across his chest. “Just to let you know what's going on, your eyes are, uh… glowing. Like a siren’s.”
You scoffed in amusement. “Just tell me I have pretty eyes, Yeosang.”
Jongho snorted and San looked up at the skies for help while Yeosang tried his best not to pass a stinging remark- you were not going to take it well. “Yeah? Don’t believe me? Go look in the mirror.”
“I don’t need to,” you started getting up, almost losing your footing. “How long was I out again?”
“A few hours,” San said, watching you cautiously.
“Must be the relief catching up or something,” you muttered, going towards the edge to look at the fading remnants of the island.
“Jongho, do something,” Yeosang pleaded and Jongho hugged himself.
“I’m scared of her,” he pouted.
“Okay, that’s enough,” you turned, bringing the stool in front of the three and sitting on it, peering down at them. “Tell me what’s going on. San first.”
“When you fainted, the arrow glowed for a moment,” he pursed his lips. “And then you just shivered uncontrollably for the three hours you were out.”
“Must be the spell, right?” You thought. “A single graze killed that siren, it must have something about it that it takes away from the user. Now, Jongho… what is it about my eyes glowing?”
“They just seem… glossier than usual. Like Yeosang’s.”
“So you all are tired too, I get it,” you shook your head. “Or this is an awful, awful prank-”
Yeosang dug a mirror out of his bag and held it in front of you, and your glowing eyes were not the first thing you noticed.
It was the faint purple mark on your temple. You leaned closer to examine it, noticing it looked a lot like scales-
It couldn’t be.
You turned your face and on the other temple- no, wherever the sun hit, your skin reflected an iridescent purple sheen, not too noticeable but there alright. You unwrapped the scarf from around your neck and shifted towards the sun, and sure enough, it was there as well. As a matter of fact, it was everywhere.
Suddenly it was too silent and too loud all at once. This was not the temporary better hearing spell you had, no. This was you hearing the low gurgles of something deep in the ocean. This was you seeing the very distant island and still being able to count the rocks around it- something you couldn’t even have seen with your binoculars. This was you hearing the breath- heartbeats of those on the boat. This was you smelling their anxiety. This was you feeling the hair on your body rise-
You rushed for the edge of the boat and gasped for air, choking on nothing. You could hear the shuffling of your companions but they didn’t come near- they let you have a moment until familiar light steps drew closer.
Yeosang touched your shoulder cautiously. “You’re still burning up- you need to let us do something about it.”
“What is happening to me?” You searched his eyes for answers but found none. “It’s too much, Yeosang, it’s too much-”
“It will be okay,” Yeosang squeezed your arm assuringly. “I think it’s some side effect of the arrow you used- the arrow from the sorcerer. If it doesn’t fade soon… we’ll do something about it, okay? We’ll figure it out-”
Yeosang couldn’t finish his sentence as your eyes rolled back in your head and you fell unconscious, him holding you in his arms just in time to save you from falling painfully down. He looked at the others helplessly- he had never seen something like this happen before. But you…
You, a human, were turning into a siren.
—----------------------
You didn’t know how long you kept lying on your back, watching the starry night sky and blocking the whispers of your companions on the boat. You were too busy replaying everything that had happened in the past few days in your head and you kept coming to the same conclusion.
The arrow. That darned arrow.
Did the Wanderer really take advantage of your vulnerability? Did he see what he needed in you- someone who would hunt a siren for him- and give you that arrow? Did he know about the spell as a sorcerer or did he give it to you because he was too scared to use it himself and find out what it would do to him? And if he knew that using that arrow would somehow turn the user into a siren…
Why would he want you, a siren-hunter, to turn into a siren? Did he have a personal grudge against you? He couldn’t, he had never met you before, had he? Or did he want you to turn into a siren just because he was someone sadistic? But it still made no sense- if he hated sirens like he had claimed he did, he wouldn’t have wanted you to turn into a siren, would he?
You finally got up, looking around- everything was starting to feel different, more heightened. You wondered for a moment if this was what was normal to Yeosang, but you were a human. You couldn’t be a siren. You hunted sirens for a living, for crying out loud. You walked around the boat until you spotted the three huddled in front of the fire, heating themselves up-
And you realised you did not feel cold either. You scoffed internally- you finally got all your questions about sirens answered. The questions you had been asking Yeosang all this time.
Yeosang was the first one to hear you walking towards them and he actually looked worried as he scanned you. “How are you feeling?”
“Angry,” you settled down in front of them. “And hungry.”
“Hangry…” Jongho acknowledged. “Any unusual craving for humans yet?”
“Jongho,” San warned though he was trying to stifle his smile.
“You’ll be the first to know if I do, human,” you muttered and Yeosang looked awfully proud to hear that.
“Really hope you don’t turn into a siren though,” Jongho casually cleaned his dagger, looking at his reflection on the blade. “Otherwise I’d have to kill two of you.”
“I thought we were friends,” Yeosang put his hand on his heart, disappointed.
“I’m not turning into a siren,” you glared at Jongho and Yeosang and they immediately shut up- you were pretty sure you had never been this angry before in front of them. You turned to San. “Where are we going?”
“I’ve steered the boat away from Mesarthim, so we’ll be bordering Sheratan in a few hours.”
“Good, keep it in that direction,” you nodded. “I need answers from a certain sorcerer.”
“I don’t think it’s safe to go alone, especially in this condition,” San scooted closer to get a good look at you. “You were burning up while you were unconscious and I had to use a spell to bring your fever down. There’s no guarantee when it will come back.”
“Thank you, but I will take care of myself,” you smiled reassuringly at him. “You’ve been a lot of help, San, but I think this is where we should part ways.”
“Nope,” San shook his head. “If you’re dealing with a sorcerer, I need to be there. There’s no telling what he will do to you- he probably planned this. This arrow- it has to be a curse.”
Your heart sank. “A curse?”
“No spell can change the nature of who you are- whether human, sorcerer or siren,” he explained. “It would have taken a curse to do that- and if that is the case… you don’t have to be a sorcerer to put a curse on something or someone, right?”
“You mean…” Jongho shifted uncomfortably, “This sorcerer might not have been a sorcerer at all?”
“That is a possibility, because to put a curse, you simply have to have a deep grudge against something or someone. For the curse to be effective, it takes a lot of negative energy. If the Wanderer placed a curse on that arrow himself and gave it to you…”
“That would make another person with a deep personal grudge against sirens,” Yeosang looked at you. “He wouldn’t have been on the boat with you and your parents a decade ago, would he?”
“No,” you said. “I’m sure he was not.”
“There’s a lot to consider here,” Yeosang rubbed his hands as if he finally felt cold. “Whether he had a grudge against the sirens we just killed or a grudge against siren-hunters, which means it could easily have been Jongho who wielded that arrow.”
Jongho grimaced at the possibility. “He must have purposefully searched for us then but found y/n first…”
You shook your head in disappointment. You definitely should not have trusted that sorcerer- or anyone, for that matter. You should have double-checked the spell on the arrow with other sorcerers. You should have trusted San and not used that arrow at all-
“I’m sorry for tossing you that arrow even though I told you not to use it,” San sighed deeply. “It’s my fault.”
“No, it’s not,” you patted his shoulder awkwardly. “I would have done that anyway.”
And only after saying that did you realise that yes. You would have done that anyway, all to save a siren.
All to save Yeosang, who was currently watching you intently and making your heart flutter, something unspoken passing between you two. The whole ordeal had really been a test for you both and you saved each other’s lives without hesitation again and again.
Before Yeosang could say something or Jongho could pass a comment with that devilish smirk on his face, you got up and went to the other end of the boat, sitting on the deck and taking a few deep breaths.
Everything you had planned had come to ruins. You killed the sirens, yes, but at what cost? You were turning into something you hated. And at the same time, you were so confused about Yeosang and his involvement in everything.
While you were unconscious, you had… dreams. You weren’t sure if they were flashbacks of your deeply buried memories or just a figment of your wild imagination, but you were back at Mesarthim, clutching your ears and sobbing while your parents' blood spilled in front of you as the sirens sank their teeth into their bodies. You were screaming as another siren made its way to you, and your scream got louder when a now familiar face stood between you and the monster.
“Not the kids. That is enough already.”
And then your saviour was thrown away with a harsh push and you scrambled to hide yourself amidst the panic, but the sirens could smell your fear. Soon, the boxes you hid behind went flying away and you brought your knees closer to your chest, eyes widening as the siren made one of its own kneel in front of you, face a bloody mess.
“Kill this child, siren. It is who we are.”
You were pretty sure it was Yeosang, and if this was a memory that finally made its way back…
Had it been Yeosang who saved your life that day?
“Stop staring holes into the poor sea,” Yeosang settled down next to you. You glared at him for good measure, taking that chance to scan his face again- he looked very different in that dream/memory but it had to be him. “And stop glaring at me every chance you get.”
“I’m still waiting for your answer,” you told him, looking back at the sea and swinging your legs a little. “
“I think we have more pressing concerns right now,” he scanned your face. “Can you tell me exactly how you feel? Do you feel any… physiological changes?”
“Well, I can hear your heartbeat, for starters, and that is the most unnerving thing,” you finally laughed a little, making him relax as well.
“We learn to ignore it until it becomes the background,” he smiled. “What can you hear?”
You took a deep breath. “Everything. I can hear them talking if I focus, I can hear the creatures in the sea… I could sense your presence, Yeosang. Is this how it feels to be a siren?”
“You’re not a siren yet, don’t worry,” Yeosang patted your back. “But do let me know if you get intense cravings.”
“I can’t tell if this is a joke or not.”
“I won’t tell,” he smiled cheekily. “Well, excellent night vision?”
“Yep,” you confirmed.
“If you’re up for it, we could test some other things, see how far it has progressed. I could tell you how to deal with it-”
“I don’t need to learn how to be a siren, Yeosang,” you raised a brow. “I’m a human. I will remain human, and I will undo whatever has happened.”
“Yes, you're still a siren-hunter,” Yeosang rolled his eyes. “But sweetheart, if you need to hunt that sorcerer, you need to learn how to live with this body and make the best use of it. It’s probably going to benefit you. And once you find him and we break the curse, you can go back to being a human if you hate it so much.”
“I will go back to being a human,” you said. “But… you’re right. I should learn how to stop stumbling every two steps.”
“Did the siren thing make your perspectives broaden as well?” Yeosang wandered out loud and you smacked his arm. “We’ll take it slow, don’t worry.”
“You’re quite pleased that I’m turning into a siren, aren’t you?” Your voice shook and his smirk fell. “You could leave me be. You could watch me suffer, but why are you offering to help me? What do you want from me?”
“I thought it was clear by now that I want nothing from you,” he looked a bit hurt and that made your heart ache as well. “I only want to thank you for helping me out and saving my life today. I want to thank you for helping me get my voice back, and I want to apologise for the unfortunate consequences of it.”
You looked down, trying to sort your thoughts out. “You’re… too human to be a siren.”
“And that is why I was outcasted by my own family,” he said. “Sirens don’t go around saving humans, y/n.”
“It was you that day, wasn’t it?” You finally looked at him, a clear memory back in your head. “I don’t know why I suddenly remember, but it was you. They made you kneel in front of me, ready to kill you if you didn’t kill me.”
“And you saved my life that day,” Yeosang smiled.
You realised you had. Not only today, but about a decade ago too. When he was struggling to breathe and being forced to kill you, you waited for the other sirens to get distracted before passing him the dagger you had been hiding behind you all this time. He had thanked you silently before he told you to close your eyes.
“I killed my people that day,” Yeosang continued. “And I’m glad you managed to escape that day, y/n, or it would have been all for nothing.”
“But they took your voice,” you whispered. “Because of me.”
“And then you found me,” he looked down at your hands which were almost brushing. “You found me…” he dared to brush his fingers against yours and when you didn’t pull your hand away, he intertwined them. “And you saved me again. It took me a while to remember you, but it looked like you had forgotten me, which is why I decided not to tell you again. It’s not the best memory, after all.”
“Well, I still hate you and you’re a siren,” you said though your smile betrayed you.
“And you still reek of human,” Yeosang retorted, his confession oddly comforting. “But I like you anyway.”
You couldn’t meet his gaze anymore so you looked away but you could tell that he was smiling. You simply squeezed his hand in response, which was enough for now. He continued to play with your fingers as he asked, “If things hadn’t gone wrong today, what would you have done? Where would you have gone?”
“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I never thought I’d make it out alive. I owe you all for that.”
“I never thought I’d make it out alive either,” Yeosang stared into the distance. “It was more like a suicide mission because let’s face it- how could I have made it out alive? We barely escaped this time. I just wanted to get back at my sister for a number of things. You won’t believe it, but I’m not the only odd siren out there. There are others who practise restraint simply because once you give in to your carnal desires, siren or human, you turn into a monster.”
“Wow,” you breathed. “So we’ve just been unfortunate this whole time? Coming across sirens that are monsters?”
“Kind of,” Yeosang smiled dejectedly. “The normal ones won’t really be sitting and waiting for humans, would they?”
“Okay, you’ve got a point,” you said. “So were you the odd one out in your community?”
“More like most of us gave in to peer pressure and had no other choice. And if you rebelled… you end up like me.”
“Not a bad place to end up though?”
“It wasn’t always so easy,” Yeosang shivered involuntarily. “Especially when they took your voice. The first few years were miserable but then I learned to live with it. I pass as a human now, don’t I?”
“Hate to admit but you do,” you tsk-ed. “So what next for you?”
Yeosang looked at your joined hands and you suddenly felt conscious. “I think I’ll stick around. At least until we find the person who did this to you, and then I will make them suffer. After that…” he brought your hand to his lips to plant a soft kiss on your knuckles, making your heart somersault. “I’ll see where this road takes me.”
You heard it- the silent promise to help you out and go wherever you want to go. To be with you. You wondered how he, as a siren, was so… beautiful. Not just from the outside, but from within. How he gave and gave without really asking anything in return. How he was still willing to hunt for you even when you had, till now, clearly reminded him again and again that he was a siren but you hated his kind.
He was a siren, but… he was more human than you could ever be.
—-------------------------
“There is no way I’m learning how to breathe underwater,” you insisted for the umpteenth time. “I have experienced breathing underwater. When the water gets into your lungs…”
“That shit hurts,” Jongho agreed, for once siding with you and you silently thanked him.
“Yes, but that’s when you’re human,” Yeosang was losing his calm now. “You need to learn how to breathe underwater so if that damned sorcerer tries drowning you, you won’t kill yourself.”
“I don’t think he’ll get to that,” you scoffed.
“Then you think too highly of yourself,” Yeosang said. “Do not underestimate someone who has the power to turn a human into a siren.”
“And the sorcerer is travelling around, so chances are we catch him while sailing or we find him at some shore,” San quipped. “He’ll definitely try to kill you- because you’re going to try to kill him too.”
You poked your tongue in your cheek, hands on your hips as you thought about it. Truth be told, you may be travelling the oceans most of the time but you were pretty scared of diving into it, especially when you almost drowned a few times in the past too.
A few days ago, when you finally completed your life’s mission and found everything going wrong, you reached Sheratan’s shore and inquired about the Wanderer. Everyone scattered around town, San tagging with you and after a few hours of asking around and a hearty dinner to celebrate making it out alive on that deadly mission, you got on the boat again to border around Sheratan in hopes of finding a lead.
While you travelled, San practised his spells, trying to either recreate something like your curse only in hopes of finding how to undo it in the process, or actually just get to breaking it himself, but so far, all his efforts had been in vain and a few times even backfired at him. He almost got hurt and you had to put Jongho on duty to make sure San wouldn’t end up hurting himself. So he started focusing on location spells and defensive shields.
Jongho could have gotten off at Sheratan since he had intended to go there anyway, but for some reason he decided to tag along until you got back to normal, and you were pretty sure the reason was not only that he was worried about you and wanted you to turn back to human, or because he wanted to kill Yeosang- which was an inside joke now. If you thought about it, he had become so used to travelling alone that perhaps, he was finding a home and a family within your odd group. You were sure about that because when you tried to tease him about it, he threatened to drown you, which made you snicker to yourself. But you had to admit you found the young siren-hunter endearing especially when he forgot who Yeosang was and just listened to his stories and let him tease him with a stifled smile. There was something about Yeosang that no one here could resist.
And that included you. These past few days, he had been making sure you felt okay and helped you live with yourself not only physically but mentally too, because if you looked past your anger, you knew that there was no telling how long you would have to live as a siren or if you could ever go back to being human. He was helping you come to terms with yourself and you were grateful for that, because if you had been alone, you weren’t sure what you would have done to yourself. Now that you knew so much about sirens and started seeing them as people just like you with emotions and feelings and dreams and wishes instead of bloodthirsty monsters… you were okay.
You were okay with Yeosang- you had been for quite a while though. He had never felt like a siren- even now, when he was fully siren, he was the same. He tried singing once when you were in the middle of the ocean- you all were immune anyway. Despite that, when he sang, you thought it was the most beautiful thing you had ever heard. It wasn’t hauntingly beautiful like a usual siren’s call, but it was almost dreamy. Even Jongho was in awe as Yeosang sang his heart out after what had to be a decade and your face was wet with tears by the time he ended.
He asked you last night if you felt like singing. You told him you didn’t know the answer to that, because currently you were busy repressing every emotion you felt and focusing solely on the anger you felt towards the sorcerer for violating your entire being. But ever since he asked you that, you couldn’t help thinking about it. So you asked him in the morning.
“Why do sirens sing?”
You knew that the sole purpose of singing wasn’t to lure humans, so you were curious why Yeosang wanted to sing so badly even though he didn’t intend to lure humans.
“So we don’t forget who we are.”
Though it was an ambiguous answer, as you narrowed your eyes at Yeosang who was waiting for you to make a decision, you wondered if he was enjoying your misery-
“No, I’m not enjoying your misery,” Yeosang chuckled. “Please, get in the water.”
“How do you even breathe underwater?” You almost cried. “Do you have some gills that I can’t see? Did I grow gills-”
San and Jongho burst out laughing in the corner and Yeosang put his head in his hands. “I’m not a fish, y/n. You just breathe through your nose- the water won’t get in. Come on,” he outstretched his hands and when you still kept giving him the side-eye, he raised a brow.
“Don’t you trust me?”
You took a deep breath, raising your hands and pausing. “I trust you. But I’m scared.”
“You’ll be okay,” Yeosang gently locked your hands with his and tugged you closer, taking off your cardigan and scarf and throwing them on the deck. “No need for these extra layers. Feeling okay?”
“Yeah,” you breathed, left in a plain black shirt and pants, similar to his. “At my pace, okay?”
“Of course,” he nodded, stepping into the water first and waiting for you. You glared at him one last time before following-
And clutching onto his arms for support.
“Just so you know, I suck at swimming,” you told him and he laughed.
“We’ll change that- for sirens, swimming is second nature to them,” he told you, trying to unwrap your grip around his arms. “Now, let go of me and you’ll find yourself floating-”
“No-” you drew closer, clutching onto his shoulders, your eyes widening as you looked down. “Can you always see that deep into the sea?”
When Yeosang didn’t answer, you looked at him, blinking in surprise when you realised how close you were, practically hugging him. But you couldn’t care right now- you were far too scared to let go. “Bear with me, please.”
“Okay,” Yeosang nodded. “Now, if you’re feeling a little better, you can let go of me and we can go underwater, okay? There’s nothing to be scared of- I’m with you.”
“Alright, I hold my breath when I go down?”
“If you want to,” he squeezed your waist assuringly, only then realising he was holding you there. Good lord, he thought. “It doesn’t matter, but when you open your eyes and get your bearings, allow yourself to breathe- through your nose, okay?”
“Okay,” your voice sounded small. “Let’s try this?”
Yeosang smiled. “Hold on to the boat and watch me.”
You did as he instructed, staying upright and you watched him dive inside the sea and swim around, all the while breathing through his nose. He waved at you and you laughed at the sight, feeling a bit relaxed.
You could do this.
You let go of the boat and held your breath, diving into the sea and opening your eyes, surprised at how everything was visible. You could see Yeosang waving at you and when you looked down, you could see the fish and other creatures. You smiled and swam closer to him and he put his hands on your shoulders-
“Breathe through your nose.”
You almost inhaled water when you heard his voice inside your head and he smiled cheekily, putting his hands on your shoulders again.
“You really are turning into a siren. Sirens can communicate through touch while underwater. Takes a little practice though. Now, inhale.”
You shook your head, swimming away from him- somehow, you could hold your breath longer now. You saw a few fishes circle around you both and while you were momentarily surprised, you had an awful realisation and you looked up-
You were far too deep in the sea. You felt short of breath and you made the mistake of opening your mouth as if to call Yeosang which just made you panic and you shook frantically, Yeosang quick to reach you and wrap his hands around your waist-
“What’s the matter? Breathe through your nose, quick!”
You shook your head, looking up again, silently communicating that you needed air and you opened your mouth again, panicking- you couldn’t hold on much longer and you were going to drown to death-
“It’s quicker to inhale than to go up for air, please, inhale, y/n! Trust me-”
You smacked his chest as if to curse him for doing this to you but he remained close. When you almost gave up, your human instincts overriding your system, Yeosang decided to help you a little-
He pressed his mouth against yours, transferring his breath to you. Your eyes widened in shock for a few moments until he drew back, equally shocked and slightly amused.
“You’re breathing.”
You shook your head in denial- yes, you breathed for a second there and the water didn’t pass through your nose and burn your lungs, but your fear made you lock that again. Yeosang brought his hands to your face, cupping them and looking at you almost lovingly.
“Just relax, y/n.”
You didn’t know which one of you made the next move but you were pressing your lips against each other again and this time, he wasn’t simply transferring air to you. This time, he was kissing you. You were breathing through your nose and you were kissing him back, your hands fisting his shirt and keeping him close, and you could make the excuse that you couldn’t breathe, but both of you knew this was different. He relaxed himself when he realised you weren’t stopping him and then he let one of his hands cup your jaw and angle you better, the other stopping at the exposed skin below your shirt. Despite wanting to continue kissing you for as long as he could, he slowly started swimming upwards and when you finally ascended up and the cold air hit your face, you broke away from him, breathless.
And for once, he was the same.
You took him in, his dark hair matted all over his face, your bodies still so close to each other, his eyes still glued to your lips. You took in your fill and then you cleared your throat. “Uh… I think I’ll try that another time.”
“Try what?” Yeosang asked and you frowned.
“Breathing underwater, you idiot,” you smacked his shoulder, drawing away from him and when he started laughing, you couldn’t help but join awkwardly. “I panicked, okay?”
“I could tell,” he teased and you splashed water on his face, feeling his gaze as you climbed up the boat, San and Jongho waiting.
“How were your adventures underwater-”
“Shut up,” you muttered, going for a towel, positive your cheeks were flushed. Yeosang followed and you avoided his gaze, going towards where your bag was.
“Are you sure you were only panicking?” Yeosang said in a low voice so only you could hear. You clenched your jaw, glaring at him.
“We’ll talk about this later,” you muttered, throwing your towel at him and going inside the cockpit, shutting the door so you could sort your thoughts out by yourself-
You weren’t sure what was worse for you as a siren-hunter. The fact that you were turning into a siren, or the fact that you kissed a siren.
Or the undeniable reality that you had been falling for him for quite a while now.
It was stupid, you thought, to fall in love with a siren. It could never end well. The stories you had heard about sirens and humans falling in love always ended ill-fatedly. You recalled hearing one from an old sorcerer you met in your hometown when you first began your siren-hunting.
“There was once a siren who fell in love with a human.”
“How could a siren love a human?” You asked.
“That’s not what matters, because they have a heart too, they find it when they fall in love,” he said. “What matters is that when a siren loves a human, it gives up everything. It gives up its own life. It forgets who it is but a siren shouldn’t love a human because eventually, a siren will sing. And when it sings, the human gives up everything for it.”
“So did that siren end up singing?”
“That’s what we’ve heard, but we never found out if that’s true,” the sorcerer sighed. “That siren loved his human so very much, but it forgot that sirens are not the only monsters out there. Humans are as monstrous themselves. So when everyone found their secret, what did they do?”
“What?” Your heart sank.
“The humans killed their own while the siren watched,” the sorcerer patted your back. “And the siren lost a part of itself. You are a human, dear. Remember not to become the monster that you hunt.”
You shivered as you recalled the story. You wondered if some part of it was true. And then you wondered if Yeosang felt the same.
Truth be told, you could blame him for being too kind to you, for protecting you, for making your heart flutter with his little actions that he didn’t even give a second thought to. You wondered why he continued to kiss you underwater- did he like you now that you were a siren? Did he like you when you were a human? Or was he simply too touch-starved all these years? Were you starving for love?
How could you fall for a siren-
You heard a knock and you thought it was San but Jongho peeked inside instead. “May I come in?”
“Why are you suddenly asking for permission,” you pouted and he grinned, settling in front of you. “If you’re here to tease me about something, please leave-”
“I wanted to ask you why Yeosang keeps grinning like an idiot. What did you both do underwater?”
You frowned, looking outside from the window and sure enough, Yeosang stood in a corner playing with his ball of yarn and smiling to himself. He almost looked like a kid at that moment and you shook your head. “He might be giggling over how I panicked underwater. I couldn’t really breathe like he thought I would.”
“Really?” Jongho frowned. “Because you were down there for quite a while.”
You could feel the heat creeping up your neck now. “Sirens must have good lung capacity or something.”
Jongho narrowed his eyes. “You like him, don’t you?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Who am I talking about?”
“Jongho,” you looked at him. “I know you’re talking about Yeosang. And yes, I don’t want to kill him anymore, but neither do you. We grew on each other, that’s it.”
“Yeah, but you two can’t stop staring at each other whenever you think nobody’s looking,” he grinned. “Look, my thoughts about sirens have changed too ever since I met Yeosang, and now that you’re turning into a siren and might stay that way… you know I won’t hurt you, right?”
“I know,” you smiled.
“We’re closer to finding that sorcerer,” Jongho said. “And it’s going to be dangerous. What I mean is… you can’t be distracted or let the sorcerer get inside your head, okay? You understand what I’m saying, right?”
“Yep,” you nodded. “Thanks. I’ll sort myself out. No more tantrums.”
“Nah, you can continue having these tantrums,” Jongho laughed. “That’s not what I mean. I know I would have holed myself in a corner and cried 24/7 if I was turning into a siren. But you need to understand that we barely escaped last time and this sorcerer is powerful enough to do that to you. In case something happens to one of us…”
“We’ll be fine,” you insisted. “We’ll make it out alive, all of us.”
“I sure hope so, but I’d rather be prepared if I don’t make it out alive, which is why I’m here right now, actually,” Jongho said. “What do you think would be your biggest regret if you don’t make it out alive?”
“I… haven’t thought about that,” you admitted. “What would be yours?”
“Well,” Jongho slumped back. “I think it would be that I wasted all these years continuing hunting sirens, even when I got the ones who killed my family. You’ve just completed your life’s mission too. I think if I make it out alive, I’d like to quit hunting and do something else.”
“Oh,” you grinned at him. “Someone’s matured.”
“Right,” he scratched the back of his neck. “Do you think you’ll quit hunting as well?”
You found yourself looking out of the window at Yeosang who was now talking to San about something. “I think I might. I don’t know.”
Jongho smiled knowingly. “What do you say? The four of us continue conquering the sea and helping people get past evil sea creatures or humans?”
“Doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” you laughed. “We’d be called pirates at this rate.”
“Yeah, our reputation already sucks anyway,” Jongho laughed as well. “But I think we make a really good team.”
You nodded, smiling at the sight of the sorcerer and siren clapping at something they found funny. You really did make a good team, and perhaps, you’d like to continue being that way. “We could find some unexplored island and make it our home. I don’t want to go back to my hometown.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Jongho said. “But first… let’s all make it out alive, okay? Let’s stay strong.”
—-------------------------
“What if we get caught trespassing on someone’s private property?” Jongho sounded concerned as he jumped over the wall to get inside the house you had travelled miles to get to.
“I think it’s justifiable considering what the sorcerer did to me,” you said, letting San help you climb up and then you jumped down, Jongho catching you. “I could burn down his whole property.”
“I won’t be surprised if that makes the sorcerer curse you again,” San said as he jumped down effortlessly, dusting his hands off. “I can undo spells like those put around this property, but I can’t undo another curse.”
“Are you sure there’s no alarm here to detect sirens?” Yeosang asked before he jumped down. “Pretty sure he would set one up considering how much he hates sirens.”
“None of you are siren enough to activate one anyway,” San scoffed. “But no. There’s none. I don’t think he ever thought a siren would come parading in his house.”
“Trespassing,” Jongho corrected.
“If you’re so worried about the law, Jongho, maybe you should retire after this mission. We could get you some place by the sea,” you teased. “You could catch fish for a living.”
“Jokes later, we don’t have much time,” San took the lead, unlocking the main door with a swipe of his hands. “Remember not to leave any sort of trace. And try not to make it look obvious that we’re searching his house, will you?”
“Got it,” you all muttered before entering the Wanderer’s house.
While on your journey around Sheratan, you came across the same pirates who had dropped Jongho off and since they were in his debt, they gave you all the information about the Wanderer which was not much but was enough. You had the location of one of his many properties across the continent and you all thought it would be a good idea to search his house for any clues about his real identity or the curse, which was how you ended up here.
“Stick next to me- if any spells have to detect a siren, I’d rather it be me,” Yeosang pushed you behind him, taking the lead. You felt touched and you were just staring at him in disbelief and adoration when he continued, “You can’t even handle one curse. I don’t know how you’ll handle another-”
“Thank you, but I’m good,” you tried overtaking him but he grabbed your arm and locked eyes with you.
“Please. I’d rather it be me.”
You narrowed your eyes. “I can’t tell if you’re genuinely worried or if you’re making fun of me.”
“Can’t it be both?” He grinned and you made a face at him, none of you breaking physical contact.
Somehow, you were getting used to Yeosang’s physical touch. Ever since that day when you both kissed underwater, he had been somehow more gentle with you yet he was still the same. You were too afraid to ask what exactly was your relationship with him now, but it definitely had surpassed the boundaries of ‘just friends’ and you hadn’t even acknowledged him as a friend verbally.
He did talk to you about what happened that day. For two days, you did your best to avoid him though you couldn’t do much, being stuck in the same boat as him. On the second night though, he joined you by the deck and asked how you were doing, making small talk until he finally said-
“Are we going to talk about the kiss or are we going to pretend it never happened?”
You pursed your lips and when you didn’t answer for a few moments, your mind racing with too many thoughts, he gently took your hand in his, caressing it.
“I know what I want,” he said. “Do you?”
His gaze was too much. It was overwhelming, but at the same time… you wished he would keep looking at you that way forever. You met his eyes- they were so warm. So full of affection and love.
“Why, Yeosang?”
“Do I need a reason to want you?” He wondered. “Maybe I just like you, y/n. Maybe I just like who you are.”
You scoffed. “I haven’t given you anything. This isn’t me- you can’t possibly like this version of me.”
“Isn’t this you?” He intertwined your hands, holding them up in front of the full moon. “Isn’t it you, afraid to admit you want a siren, just like I was afraid to admit that I want a human?” He shut one eye as if studying the way the moonlight passed through the gaps between your fingers. “Was that not you who spent all her life searching for the sirens who killed her parents to avenge them?” He put your hands down, still staring at the way they fit with each other. “Was that not you who has a heart of gold- who, even when at her worst, saw the human in me and helped me?”
“Stop,” you almost cried, wanting nothing more than to let him hold you. You didn’t look his way again but he kept playing with your hands and waited for you to continue.
“What are you so afraid of, y/n?” He whispered.
“There’s way too much to be afraid of,” you finally lost your patience and looked at him. “Firstly… I’m a human and you’re a siren- and it can’t end well. I don’t know how this could work- but from what I’ve heard, it can’t work-”
“So you do want me,” Yeosang was grinning now and you shook your head in disbelief. Had he not heard a word you said?
“Do you like me more now that I’m almost a siren?” You locked eyes with him and when you saw his smile fall, you knew you had asked the wrong question.
“If that’s what you think, I’m willing to wait for you until you’re human,” he managed to say though he felt his heart had been ripped. “Though, I thought it was obvious even when you were human.”
“No, I’m sorry I asked that,” you admitted. “It’s just… I’m not certain about the future right now. I don’t want to make a promise to you that I cannot keep- not when I’m in this state. I may have gotten used to it thanks to your help but that does not mean I like it.”
“But… you do like me?” Yeosang asked and in that moment, he looked so vulnerable that something in you broke. All the walls you had built to guard your hesitation, fear, and the stupid second thoughts came crashing down and you almost whimpered with the sheer ache in your heart as you slid closer to him, cupping his face in your hands.
“I want you,” you told him, watching the uncertainty on his face fade away. “I don’t know what song you’ve sung but despite you not having your siren voice and despite my immunity to a siren’s song… I’m bewitched and I want you so bad.”
That was all Yeosang needed and he put one arm around your waist to tug you closer until you were flush against him. You joined your foreheads, simply breathing in the proximity and getting used to it, the brushing of your noses driving you absolutely insane. When your lips brushed, it took everything in you to draw away and look at him, his eyes fluttering open.
“Let me just get that damned sorcerer first,” you said, pecking his lips for good measure and surprising him. “Let me just sort my mess out, and then…”
“And then…” Yeosang smirked, pecking your lips and looking at you- if he meant to drive you insane, it worked because you were kissing him back as if you were on stolen time, trying to draw him closer than ever, his hands every fucking where. This time, he broke away and finished with peppering kisses all over your face.
“You don’t have to be afraid of what’s next, okay?” He said, kissing your cheek. “I’m with you. We’re all with you. You’ll be okay, love.”
You snuggled into his neck and he held you for the rest of the night. And now, here you were, back to being whatever you were. Yeosang led you inside the house and you noticed that there wasn’t much dust inside.
“He’s been here recently,” you commented. “Are we splitting up?”
“Definitely,” Jongho said. “Me and San can cover upstairs.”
“Okay,” you nodded. “Yeosang, you should start with the rooms, I’ll do the living room and kitchen.”
Though reluctant to let you go, Yeosang did, understanding the shortage of time. You had your eyes on the shelves where several books, candles, inkpots and other objects were placed. You skimmed through the titles- they were mostly history and fictional. You made a face- perhaps he was a reader. You found it odd, though, that there were no books on spells or magic like a sorcerer should have. The objects there were mostly stationery and you checked a few letters but found nothing strange. Disappointed, you searched the kitchen and the hallways, finding Yeosang there who was also looking lost.
“Found anything?”
“Seems like a normal person so far,” you sighed. “I hope Jongho or San find something. Found any signs of another person living here?”
“None- he seems to be alone. There’s a locked cabinet in there that San should check, though.”
Right then, you heard the two coming downstairs, empty-handed and perhaps as disappointed at you. San said, “For a sorcerer, he sure hates spell books. There’s a library up there but no books on spells or magic.”
“Isn’t that odd?” You asked. “What does a sorcerer usually have in his possession? At least a spell book or some magical items, right?”
“Nothing like that here,” he said.
“There’s a locked cabinet in there- you should check that,” Yeosang led San inside what looked like the master bedroom and San assessed the cabinet.
“There’s no spell on it,” he said, opening it with ease. “And there’s nothing inside. Must be for whenever he actually stops by.”
“I told you it would be a waste,” Jongho looked happy to have proven his point and you glared at him.
“It won’t be a waste,” San assured. “We know that he stopped by here only a few days ago thanks to the mailbox. I checked his study and found that one of his properties is located in the neighbouring town which means if he’s not sailing right now, he must be there. I tried a location spell but I got nothing.”
“Wow, are you a part-time detective or something?” Jongho looked impressed.
“Just observant,” San scoffed. “Unlike you lot.”
Which sparked a heated debate and while you all argued as you exited the room, Yeosang noticed a peculiar painting hanging in the hallway and he paused to examine it. San asked if something about the painting was familiar. You looked at it- it was a gloomy painting of a lone man sitting on a rock with waves crashing around him.
“I’ve seen this place,” Yeosang sounded sure.
“And?” Jongho asked, waiting.
“I’m pretty sure the place in the painting is the caves where the sirens dwell near Fomalhaut. You see the ashen mountains? The only volcanoes on this planet are near Fomalhaut and near Regulus. I’ve been here.”
“And what’s so special about this location?” San asked.
“The most monstrous sirens dwell there- the elders, we call them,” Yeosang looked at San.
“Interesting,” you contemplated his revelation. “But… what’s the problem with this painting specifically?”
“No one who’s human has ever made it out alive after crossing that place, so… how could someone have painted it so accurately? Down to the specific details about the place?”
“What are you saying?” Jongho asked. “Someone told a painter in great detail or…”
“Or someone painted it themselves,” Yeosang touched the painting. “Did any of you see any painting supplies?”
“In the study upstairs, yes,” San said and Yeosang pursed his lips.
“A lack of spells or sorcerer-related items and this painting… why do I have a feeling our sorcerer isn’t a sorcerer at all?”
You felt your heart sink. “What is he then? Human? But you said no human made it out alive-”
“What if he’s a siren, just like me?” Yeosang looked at you, eyes a little wide. “Pretending to be human- if he hasn’t used his voice in a while, he could pass as a normal human. He pretends to be a sorcerer and wanders around- the Wanderer.”
While you stood having major flashbacks about all your meetings with the Wanderer, San asked Yeosang if he was sure but even San felt like it was more plausible than anything so far. Jongho put a hand on your back, rubbing it. “It doesn’t matter if he’s a siren or a sorcerer or whatever. We’ll get him, okay?”
“I know we will,” you smiled weakly. “I just… if he’s a siren, why?”
That was an answer you’d get soon.
—--------------------------
If you were expecting to find the sorcerer in another mansion like the one he owned in the town you came from, you couldn’t have been far from wrong. You didn’t know what exactly you thought you’d find in this town, but…
The sorcerer sitting on the porch of an old hut by the beach was just not it.
You stood looking at him from a distance, the rest looking as confused as you for their own reasons. You, for one, hadn’t expected him to look so ragged.
“That is not a sorcerer,” San shook his head. “He has some incantations done on him, but he is not a sorcerer.”
“You’re right,” Yeosang looked the most surprised out of you all and he met your eyes before he said, “That’s a siren, not a sorcerer.”
“A siren?” Jongho frowned. “Can you sense him, y/n?”
You couldn’t. You asked Yeosang, “How do you know?”
“Because I’ve seen him before, when he was a siren,” Yeosang held your wrist. “I don’t think this is a good time to confront him- we need to strategise-”
The sorcerer- or whoever he was supposed to be- looked right at the group of you with a faint smile on his face as if he had been expecting you. He got up and brushed his clothes before treading almost inhumanely towards you.
“What a sight,” the Wanderer clapped. “I was expecting you, huntress.”
Yeosang pushed you behind him protectively and finally, the Wanderer looked at someone else other than you and something in his face changed- he looked highly amused. “Oh, look who we have here. A siren protecting a human!”
“Who’s turning into a siren herself thanks to you,” Yeosang’s voice sounded so different from anything that you had ever heard and you looked at him in surprise. “What’s the reason behind this curse?”
“A curse, you call,” the Wanderer scanned San. “As a sorcerer, you must know what drives a person to curse someone.”
“Was it something I did?” You finally asked. “Why me? Why am I turning into a siren, of all the things?”
“I just knew there was something about you when I saw you, and I was right!” He looked up at the sky as he laughed, the black strands of his hair falling back, and you resisted the urge to claw at him. “You, a siren-hunter, have a siren wrapped all around your fingers! Now that’s one variable I didn’t predict.”
You scoffed. “That would be an overstatement-”
“You’re him, aren’t you?” Yeosang began, sneering at him. “The siren we’ve heard so much about. The bedtime story of what would happen if you fall in love with a human.”
“Someone clearly didn’t learn,” the Wanderer looked at Yeosang. “And look at what happened. She’s now turning into a siren. Would you still love her if she becomes the monster that you swore not to be?”
That was it. You unsheathed the longsword and pointed at him, its tip almost meeting with the Wanderer’s chin. He glared at you in response. “I’ve had enough of your rambling. I don’t care what happened to you or who you are. You gave me an arrow that saved lives, cursed as it was. Undo it, now. That’s an order.”
His gaze darkened. “Do you really think it’s that easy to reverse a curse that was born after decades of grief? Grief longer than perhaps this siren’s life?” He pointed at Yeosang. “Your best bet is obviously killing me, but I have unfinished business, human. It’s better if you give in to the instinct clawing at your heart. Don’t you think so, siren? You wouldn’t have to worry about the other sirens hunting you down for loving a human like they did to me.”
“You know, for a siren who claims to be harbouring this grudge for what? Decades? Almost a century?” Jongho began and you met eyes with San- Jongho was definitely going to infuriate the siren so you had to act quick. “You sure have been slacking. Perhaps, you do not possess what it takes to get revenge like these two here. Are you sure you’ve got your revenge story right?”
And though the siren may have long given up on who he was, he sure had a few tricks up his sleeve. In a blink, he had produced a dagger and sent it for Jongho who narrowly dodged it and San immediately drew a shield around all of you. However, having pretended to be a sorcerer for so many years, the Wanderer was prepared. His next dagger went right through San’s shield, grazing his shoulder in the process.
“All of you, stay back,” you muttered, fuming with anger. “I’ll deal with him on my own.”
Yeosang wasn’t having any of that though. He loaded an arrow at the siren and let it loose, hitting him in the calf and the Wanderer sent a wave of air in your direction, throwing you both back a good distance, groaning in pain.
“It doesn’t have to end this way, huntress,” he called, tearing a piece from his clothes and quickly wrapping his wound while you recovered. “You can embrace being a siren. Being a human won’t do you any good in the long run.”
“And what would you know about being human,” you spat. “Why target a siren-hunter like this, huh?” You walked away from where Jongho and San were- it looked like the Wanderer hadn’t recognised Jongho yet and that was good. “You could have manifested whatever grudge you had into cursing the sirens who actually wronged you-”
“You don’t understand,” the Wanderer shook his head. “Sirens… They’re not the real monsters. We have laws and I broke one- I deserved my punishment, but humans?”
He looked so broken in that moment that you finally understood. You recalled the story you had heard about the siren who fell in love with a human and realised with a sinking heart that his grudge against humans was well warranted.
“You humans,” he started nearing the shore and Yeosang muttered a curse, dragging San and Jongho behind him as well. “You are the real monsters. And I’ve thought long and good about how I could avenge humans- I can’t just kill them all, can I? You prowl like ants on the land, there’s too many of you. But… you hunt sirens. You hunt us as if we’re the real monsters- you’re the perfect candidate.”
As soon as the Wanderer’s feet touched the waves, he raised his hands and you gaped at the sight of the waves growing louder, reaching new heights- did he intend to drown all of you? “When you become a siren- which you will, make no mistake- you’ll be hunting your own kind- humans.”
As twisted as it was, it made sense but at the same time… “You’re really going to do this?” You asked, while the boys muttered plans to each other. You could stall. “What have I done? I’m not the human who killed the person you loved. You know sirens killed my family too- how is this justifiable?”
“It doesn’t have to be,” the Wanderer smirked dangerously, raising his hand up and making a huge wave stand still in the air, making all of you take a few steps back and gasp. “I will kill your little group and make you watch, just like your kind did to me. And when you’re about to drown to death, you will give in to your siren instincts.”
Before you could retort, head spinning because there was no way this was happening, the Wanderer sent the wave crashing down on all of you and you lost your footing, almost getting carried away into the sea but Jongho was quick to grab you.
Jongho helped you up while San sent another magical wave for the siren which turned out to be ineffective. Yeosang slicked his hair back, angry. “It’s not going to work- he’s a centuries-old siren. Our powers might be useless against him.”
“What then?” You asked, shooting arrows after arrows for the siren. “We let him kill us? We run?”
“I could try singing- he doesn’t know who I am yet,” Jongho quipped. “I don’t know if it would work against a centuries-old siren, but…”
“But it’s our best bet,” you nodded. “I wish I had an ebony arrow right now.”
“Uh, I may have something better,” Yeosang patted his chest. “I’m wearing my sister’s necklace made of a water dragon’s tooth- it’s fatal to sirens.”
“Why do you even own it,” you muttered, grateful there was at least something.
“She killed sirens with these- those who went rogue. Almost got killed too,” Yeosang grinned. “We gotta get close to him though-”
The Wanderer sent another wave, this time shaped as pointed arrows and you gawked at it, San grabbing all of you and trying to get you to hide behind the boards or anything. “You guys are not helping me at all, find cover immediately!”
You dragged Yeosang behind a shed- he was too in awe at the siren’s powers to react quicker. San stood his ground though, waving his hands and muttering a spell, this time a visible shield in front of you all and when the siren sent those arrows at you, his shield managed to hold it.
“I’m going inside the hut and I’m going to sing,” Jongho announced. “When I give a cue, you better cover your ears, Yeosang.”
“Got it,” he said. “If the singing works, y/n, I’ll go stab him with the tooth- hey!”
You had snatched the necklace from him and you wound it around your arm. You looked at San. “Please make sure Yeosang covers his ears properly. I can’t risk him trying to cover his ears and stabbing the siren at the same time when he’s a siren himself.”
“No,” Yeosang tried grabbing your arm but you stepped back and hurt flashed his eyes. “There’s no guarantee this tooth won’t be fatal to you too- and there’s no telling if you’re immune to Jongho’s song anymore.”
“There’s not, but I’ll take the chance,” you smiled at him, hiding behind San. “Please restrain him, will you?”
“I could do it for you,” San said while grabbing Yeosang who was currently trying to snatch the necklace from you. “I should do this.”
“But you’re hurt,” you said, looking at the hut- Jongho seemed to be preparing. The Wanderer was currently going deeper in the waves, finally having gotten a break from you trying to shoot at him. “I should be the one to do this.”
“Y/n,” Yeosang shook his head, trying to break free from San’s grasp who understood that it couldn’t be Yeosang, at least, out of all of you. “You could get hurt-”
“I’ll be fine,” you assured him though you knew he was right- there was no telling how it was going to go for you. “I’ve got my earplugs so don’t you go shouting for me when I attack him, okay?”
San chuckled at that and Yeosang finally stopped fighting back. “I’ve got earplugs too.”
“Doesn’t matter,” you noticed Jongho’s signal. “You’re staying here.”
Before he could stop you, you walked to Yeosang and asked him to show you his earplugs. When he fished them out, you took them and switched them with yours. “Mine are better- they’ll keep you safe, okay?” You proceeded to put one of them in his ear, and when he held your wrist, pleading with his eyes to let you come along with him, you kissed his cheek. “Thank you for everything. I’ll be back, okay? As a human. I’ve got to do this myself.”
Yeosang understood- perhaps, the person cursed had to do the deed themselves to break the curse. You put in the other earplug and asked San to stay safe. And then you put in Yeosang’s earplugs, unsheathed your sword and marched towards the Wanderer. The vengeful siren sent wave after wave of pointed arrows at you but you fought back, gritting your teeth. You noticed the siren mouthing something but you really couldn’t care less- it was enough. You did not spend all those years siren-hunting only to become a siren yourself.
So you raised the sword and pointed it at Jongho, all the while maintaining eye contact with the siren. “Your mistake was thinking that you were not at fault. Because when a siren loves a human, yes, they give it their all, but do you know what happens when a human loves a siren?”
The Wanderer paused, arrows hovering in the air waiting for his command.
“When a human loves a siren… they forget they are mortal. It consumes them. They knowingly risk their short lives to protect that one brief moment of love they shared and they can die happy if they get that one moment,” you breathed, glancing back at Yeosang who was still struggling to break free from San’s grasp- San seemed to have obeyed when you told him a few days ago to magically restrain Yeosang if it came down to that. “Yes, humans wronged you. You should have dealt with those who wronged you instead of targeting another human who fell in love with a siren- just like your human. You really thought repeating history was the best idea?”
The Wanderer reconsidered for the briefest moment but as soon as you saw his gaze turn dark, you knew he was no longer the siren he once was. He had given in to his monstrous instincts and was too far gone. You raised the sword up and you heard the faint but sharp voice of the reaper pierce through the air. It sounded just like a siren’s call but somehow worse, if that was possible. You had heard it once before but this time, you had to actively resist it and it sent a burning sensation through your entire body.
You looked back at Yeosang who seemed okay but started struggling again when he spotted your pained expressions. You shook your head at him and gathered all your strength, you looked up to see the Wanderer entranced by the song.
It was working.
But he was too far away- even the distance of a few feet was seeming overwhelming when you couldn’t even take a single step. You ditched your sword and clutched your ears, taking one step and then another, practically crawling towards the siren-
And he finally reacted- he looked at you but his eyes were glossy. You clutched the tooth in your fist and he shook his head furiously, clutching at his ears but thankfully, Jongho was overpowering him. Once you reached him, you stabbed him in the chest-
Just as he took out his dagger and stabbed you.
You clutched at your own chest- he missed your heart by only a few inches. Now that you weren’t clutching your ears, you fell on your knees, the siren falling on his side as well, the waves washing over you two. He writhed in pain and you took out your earplugs, hearing the hauntingly beautiful call of the siren-hunter. You shut your eyes for a few moments until the siren fell silent and then you welcomed the darkness.
Jongho stopped singing as soon as he saw you both unmoving and he sprinted out of the hut, Yeosang and San following close. San made sure the siren was dead before extracting the tooth that was half-lodged in his chest, and Yeosang held your unmoving figure in your arms.
“She’ll be okay, let’s get her away from the sea,” Jongho said and Yeosang nodded, jaw clenched in anger and relief as he picked you up, moving away from the waves and laying you down on the sand. San followed soon after, assessing the damage.
“I have a healing potion- do you think I should get it?” Yeosang asked worriedly and San shook his head.
“Let’s not mess with her when she’s trapped in a curse- let me get this out first,” he said, extracting the dagger from your chest while Jongho put pressure on your wound. “Let’s hope the curse breaks after helping her heal a little.”
“I should have done something, anything,” Yeosang rubbed his face. “I should have-”
“No, you definitely should not have,” San reprimanded and Jongho agreed. “She’ll be okay even if she remains a siren. You would not have been okay. She protected you, okay? She asked me to protect you.”
“But-”
“Do you know what’s the last thing she said to that siren?” San was smiling. “She told him it was a mistake to target a human who fell in love with a siren.”
“But she-” Yeosang paused, raising his brows, wondering if he heard that right. “She said that?”
“Yes, you fool,” Jongho smacked Yeosang’s arm. “Give her a little credit. She’s not used to sirens being willing to protect her, okay?”
“Might be, a little,” you muttered, wondering if you were dreaming- everything felt cloudy. “He’s protected me far too many times for my own good.”
And when you heard the loud chorus of the boys asking if you were okay, you decided to go back to being unconscious for a little while longer.
—--------------------------
It was finally a sunny day at the sea after days of gloominess.
You took off your jacket, letting the heat soak through your shirt and spread throughout your body like a warm hug. You shut your eyes, smiling to yourself. Everything felt peaceful-
“Oh, so you can break an apple in half with your bare hands and you think you’re strong?” Yeosang scoffed. “I once cracked a siren in half-”
“Well, obviously the parameter is different,” Jongho pointed out. “You’re a siren.”
“I’ve lost most of my siren strength though. Maybe I should try cracking you in half-”
“Oh, try it on San,” Jongho pointed at the sorcerer. “He seems like he would be easy to crack.”
“Hey!” San scooted away. “You’re not doing that to me- hey!”
Yeosang had picked San up in his arms, quite effortlessly, while Jongho stood giggling at the way San tried to squirm out of the siren’s grasp. You would have tried to ignore them were it not for San having finally escaped and the three now running around you as they tried to catch each other. Yeosang almost bumped into you but with a quick apology, he was back to chasing him. You took a deep breath, willing yourself to let it go but when Yeosang tackled San and the two fell with a thud making the boat shake dangerously, you shouted at them.
“Not one moment of peace!” You glared at the three who straightened. “Yeosang, why would you want to crack San in half?”
“Yes, tell him!” San looked down at the siren-
“He’s obviously the easier prey out of the two and we need the sorcerer. I would be going after Jongho- he’s pretty useless save for his singing-”
“You traitor!” Jongho yelled at you and you grinned as Yeosang went after Jongho. San shook his head in amusement, settling down next to you.
“Enjoying the sun?”
“Very much,” you grinned. “What’s our bearings?”
“On track like we’re supposed to,” San exhaled. “I hope we don’t run into trouble again. The last island was enough.”
Now that the four of you were a team, you were travelling the seas in search of a secluded island you could inhabit and call home- it didn’t have to be secluded. The last two islands you chanced upon were unwelcoming to your group and for all the right reasons.
Your group attracted too much attention and nobody liked that.
“Perhaps we’re meant to live on the sea after all,” you sighed wistfully. “Sailing endlessly, a home with each other, one siren, one sorcerer and two hunters. We should search for more crew members then, what say you?”
“It’ll happen if it has to,” San said. “We didn’t search for each other, did we? It just happened.”
“Well, we’re lacking a pirate and mer- wait, is that a boat?”
You calling it a boat was an overstatement- it was more like a raft with a lone man travelling on it. You looked at San, wondering if you had really manifested something. San asked, “Should I check? Seems like a good time to offer our services in exchange for some money.”
“Sure,” you laughed. “Let’s offer the poor guy a ride anyway- I don’t know how he made it this far in the middle of the ocean on a raft- I’m curious.”
“You’ll stay here- San and Jongho can do the talking,” Yeosang slumped next to you now that San and Jongho were steering the boat in the raft’s direction. “We don’t want a replay of how you handled a potential customer last time.”
“Come on,” you turned to him, scratching below his chin. “Just because I offered him our pretty siren in exchange for his longsword which was way prettier than mine, doesn’t mean I would have actually traded you. You know that, right?”
Yeosang narrowed his eyes. “Do I? Somehow I still suspect you would have gladly traded me for an object.”
You grinned, kissing his lips for a good moment. “Of course not. I don’t think I can part ways with my longsword.”
“But you will part ways with me, after everything we’ve been through-”
“And I can’t make out with a sword, can I?” You winked at him, watching the siren flush a million shades of red. He pursed his lips, flustered, suddenly finding the ends of your sleeves interesting. You enjoyed passing flirting remarks like that so much- Yeosang was experiencing love for the first time in his long life, though he claimed he wasn’t ‘inexperienced’. You made it your life’s mission to give him a love worthy of legends- something that would overwrite the tragic love story of a siren and a human which was all people knew for centuries now.
“Y/n, Yeosang!” Jongho called. “Our guest claims to have escaped a pirate ship.”
“On a raft? Impressive,” you got up, shaking the man’s hand and assessing his appearance- his red hair looked like it was different shades in the sun. His skin was a little tan and he was wearing a lot of jewellery. “Where do you come from?”
“You might have heard of the White Mask? The pirate crew? I was their firstmate but things happened. I no longer wish to be a part of them so I escaped with what I could.”
“Wow,” you breathed- you were in the company of the legendary firstmate of the White Mask. You had heard a lot about those pirates whom even other pirates feared but you never expected their First Mate to look so… normal. “How can we be of service?”
“I wouldn’t have bothered you all- I can make it to the continent on my own, but when I sensed who you were, I couldn’t resist joining.”
“Sensed?” You frowned. “What are you then?”
“Half mer,” he grinned. “Nice to meet you, I’m Hongjoong. I heard you were looking for more crew members?”
You looked at the others who looked slightly amused, a bit shocked, but willing to see if you could have the legend of a pirate joining your crew.
“Well, I sure hope we get along,” you smiled.
#kang yeosang#yeosang#yeosang x reader#yeosang ff#ateez x reader#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#ateez fluff#ateez angst#ateez au#yeosang fluff#yeosang angst#kang yeosang x reader#yeosang imagines#yeosang scenarios#ateez fanfic#atz
773 notes
·
View notes
Note
your writing is literally the best in the cod fandom. we need more injured reader angst. it's too good
don't breathe — python333
— — — —
synopsis [reader] gets buried alive after refusing to give intel to enemy soldiers and *slips up and writes reader almost dying again* oops how did that happen haha
relationships platonic!price & gn!reader.
characters cap. john price.
word count 2.7k
warnings suffocation [reader], just generally really depressing thoughts, near death??, 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].
note aww tysm :(( dont say its the best im gonna get a complex LMAO but i appreciate it!! and yes i agree injured reader angst ftw :3 i present to you: reader gets very injured and theres a lot of angst and its basically just you suffering for a good 3/4 of the fic while the last quarter has the actual comfort!
“Hello?” You try again, your voice cracking and your tone as desperate as it can get, “Please, God, say someone can hear me.”
You’ve been trapped in a casket for about five minutes now—at least, you woke up five minutes ago. God knows how long you’ve been stuck in the stupid thing, but realistically, it’s probably been much longer than five minutes.
The last thing you remember from before you were buried is being in the interrogation room of some small terrorist group’s facility, one you and the others were led to believe was abandoned weeks ago.
Unfortunately, whoever gave you the information must’ve either had incredibly outdated information or was setting you all up for failure, because the facility was very much not abandoned and was instead full of enemy soldiers.
You all had already gotten into the building before you knew that, because of course you all had to be in the same spot at the same time—practically sitting ducks for the enemy—and of course you all had to be clueless about the possibly hundreds of people in the facility until it was too late.
As far as you know, everyone managed to escape. Everyone but you. They didn’t mean to leave you behind, of course they didn’t, they were more focused on just booking it out of the facility. However, because of that, you were now stuck—you assume—several feet underground in a casket that has a limited amount of oxygen that drops every time you take a breath.
You let out the breath you’re currently holding and suck in another deep breath, holding it as you think. Your strategy of holding your breath until you no longer could mostly worked, but it wouldn’t for long, you knew that soon you’d suffocate in all of the carbon dioxide gathering in the enclosed casket.
You don’t know how long you’d been unconscious in the casket, breathing in oxygen carelessly in your slumber, which made the whole situation worse. You didn’t even know how much time you had left.
You hate to waste your breath checking your comms, but the enemy soldiers had accidentally left your earpiece in your ear—the small device apparently going undetected under their radar—and you wanted to make the most of it. You move your arm from your side and press onto the PTT button on your earpiece, wincing a little at how cramped the casket was.
“Does anybody copy?” You ask again, staring up at the almost pitch black space above you, “I repeat, does anybody copy?”
It’s a vain attempt at contacting your team, really. You don’t know if they’re thinking about you, if the signal is going through, if they even have their earpieces on—you know nothing, and that terrifies you because you really don’t want to die right now but there’s literally nothing else you can do besides helplessly talk into your earpiece, not knowing if anyone’s listening.
Your lungs start to burn and you let out the breath you were holding, taking another deep breath and beginning to hold that one. The air feels… thick. It’s starting to get harder to breathe, and you know you shouldn’t panic but you can’t help the few worried thoughts that come to the forefront of your mind.
What am I going to do when I run out of oxygen and the only thing left for me to breathe in are my own discarded breaths? What will I do when all there is to do is suffocate? Am I going to try, in one last desperate attempt, to break out of the casket, or am I going to just lay here and die? Will my team try to find me, or will they forget about me? Have they already forgotten about me?
Before you can listen to any more of those depressing thoughts, a voice comes from your earpiece.
“H—lo? [c/n]?” It’s hard to tell with the static and the cuts in between the words, but you think it’s Price talking.
“Price?” You ask immediately, all thoughts of preserving your breath forgotten. “Holy shit, you can hear me?”
“Je—s— whe—e—” He cuts out for a moment and your stomach drops when all you can hear is static for a moment.
“You’re— You’re cutting out, Captain, what did you say?”
“Wher— —re you?” It takes you a moment to realize what he’s saying, your mind working much slower than it usually does, but once you do you shake your head negatively despite him not being there to see you.
“I don’t— I don’t know,” You respond, taking a deep breath before adding on, “I think I’m underground, I just know I’m in a casket and it’s getting harder to breathe and—”
“Okay, o—y,” You hear Price’s voice crackle, his voice becoming more distant and sounding almost muffled to you, “Sa— —ur bre—th, I’ll try to g—t some—e to track your— —tion.”
With the constant cutting out of his words and the distortion of his tone, you can barely register or process what he’s saying, and that only panics you more but you refuse to let your emotions get the better of you even in the state of disorientation you’re in, so you keep holding your breath.
A minute later, Price’s voice crackles through your earpiece again.
“Okay, we’ve got your loc—tion,” Price’s voice sounds… oddly far away, “We can—”
His voice slowly becomes muffled, and you release the breath you were holding without realizing it, slowly blinking up at the ceiling of the casket. A sort of haze falls over your mind and you can barely even hear Price anymore before you suddenly snap back to reality and hear his now much clearer voice loud in your ear.
“[c/n]? [c/n], are you still there?” You recognize his tone now, and you’re just a little shocked at the sheer amount of worry in it.
“Haven’t moved an inch,” You breathe out, before lying, “You cut out for a second for me, sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, it’s okay,” Price reassures you, “I said we got your loc—tion and we’re hea—g out th— —w. It’s not t— far away from where —e alre—dy are, we’re ba—ely three clicks away.”
“… Clicks?” You ask, your eyebrows drawing together in confusion.
“Yes, clicks,” Price replies, sounding concerned, before hesitantly asking, “… You know what those are, right?”
“I don’t—” You struggle to find words for a moment before you speak again, your own voice starting to sound distant, “I don’t think so?”
“What do y—u mean you don’t thi— —o?” Price asks, his voice sounding freakishly close, “Are you okay?”
“No, yeah, I’m fine,” You lie through your teeth, not wanting to worry Price further, “I just… how far away are you?”
“Just ab—t two cli—ks now,” Price says, before pausing and clarifying, “Two kilometers.”
Two kilometers… how far is that? “And that’s… is that far, or?”
“No, it’s not too far. It’s just a mi—te away, we didn’t ge— —o far before Laswell got your loc—tion,” Price tells you, “We’ll be there soon, ok—y? We’ll get y— —ut of there.”
“A minute—” You cough and feel tears pricking at your eyes from how hard it is to take another breath, “A minute?”
“Yes, a minute— [c/n], are you okay?” Price asks again, before laughing nervously, “You know what a minute is, do— —ou?”
“...” You struggle to answer the question, thinking long and hard for a few seconds before hesitantly answering, “… Yeah, I do, sorry. It’s sixty seconds.”
“Why’d it take you so long to answer?”
“I don’t know, I’m sorry, I—” You take a few shallow breaths, and feel a headache start to build up, “How far away are you guys?”
“We’re alm—t there,” Price promises you, “The heli’s ab—t to l—nd, and we’ll dig you up, and—”
Why is it so cold? Price’s voice cuts off and when he stops talking you realize that you’re shivering. You ball your fists up and can’t even feel your nails digging into your palms, your hands having gone numb from the cold, and realizing that makes you discover that your lips feel numb too.
Your ears start to ring and you feel that uncomfortable pins and needles feeling in your hands, the sensation slowly traveling up your arms, making you both wanting to peel off your own skin and also grateful that you can at least feel something besides the cold.
In the midst of your thinking, you hear muffled thumping coming from above you—whoever buried you couldn’t have buried you anything below six feet.
“—llo? [c/n]? Are you still there?”
You bring your hand up, the movement slow and sluggish, and you try to search around the side of your face for your earpiece. You eventually find it and when you do you press against it until you feel the PTT button being pushed.
“Still here,” You confirm breathlessly, coughing again as you take a few more shallow breaths, “I think I’m running out of— of… what’s the fuckin’ air that you can breath in, it starts with an o…”
“… Oxygen?”
“Oxygen, yeah,” You slowly blink up at the ceiling of the casket, “There’s— I think— I don’t… I think… I think I’m gonna pass out, Captain.”
“[c/n], don’t you fucking dare,” Price growls, “You stay awake, I swear to fucking god.”
“I can’t—” You take a few more shallow breaths, before coughing, the tears escaping your eyes reaching the corners of your mouth.
You can hear Price briefly talk with someone else, his voice the most serious you’ve ever heard it, before he talks directly to you again, “How much longer do you think you have before you run out of oxygen?”
It takes you a moment to register the question, but when you do, you answer, “Uh… I don’t— I think… maybe a few more minutes? I can’t tell, it’s just hard to breathe, I can’t…”
“Okay, okay,” Price softly says, gusts of wind blowing into his mic as he talks, “Give me a second, okay? We’re almost there, kid, we’ll— we’ll be there in just a minute, we just passed over you, I just need you to stay awake.”
“In a minute,” You repeat to yourself, before taking a deep breath, hoping that you have enough oxygen to make it out of this casket because you really don’t want to die here, not when there’s help just a minute away.
After what you assume is a minute or two, instead of thumping, you hear something cut into the dirt above you. The sound, however, is heavily muffled, so muffled to the point where you don’t know if you’re hallucinating or not.
Is that a symptom of CO2 poisoning? Hallucinations? You lay still in the casket and can’t help but release the breath you’d only just taken, the ringing in your ears starting up again and growing louder faster than they had before.
Your entire body is numb, your chest is heavy, and you can feel a sort of fog fall over your mind. You can distantly hear Price yelling through your earpiece, but you can’t find it in yourself to respond, instead simply laying there, your blinking starting to slow down before it eventually stops, leaving your eyes closed.
—
For a moment, you think you died and went to heaven, which would be weird, considering all the things you’ve done in your life. Not saying you’d go to hell, just saying God would probably hesitate for a second before letting you in through the pearly gates.
You blink awake, slowly but surely, and the first thing you realize is that you can feel things again. You tilt your head down to the bump under the white bed sheets laid on top of you, and squeeze your hand into a ball, watching the bump move and feeling your fingers dig into your oddly sore palms.
You let out a sigh of relief and pull your hand out from the sheets, bringing it up to your face and feeling the oxygen mask that’s been placed over your mouth and nose.
“Don’t mess with that,” You hear a voice say to your right. You turn your head and see a very tired Captain Price, dark eyebags hanging under his eyes and arms crossed, his hands having a white knuckle grip on either one of his elbows.
“…” You don’t say anything, instead you simply stare at him until he sighs and gets up from his seat. You watch silently as he leans over your bed and bends down, before pausing, and then quickly snaking his hands under your back to pull you up just enough for him to properly hug you.
You reach up with shaky hands and tentatively hug him back, not nearly as tightly—not that you don’t want to, but you physically can’t with how weak your arms are right now—but with just as much sincere affection. You can feel Price’s beard rubbing against your neck and hear his small sniffles as he embraces you tightly.
Maybe it’s his sniffling, or the way you can finally feel warmth for the first time in what feels like forever, or maybe it’s just the fact that he’s holding you with so much care and affection that it almost makes you burst at the seams, whatever it is, it causes you to tear up as well.
Those tears quickly become sobs that bubble up in your throat and crawl their way out of it, forcing you to tuck your head into the crook of Price’s neck and muffle your sobs in it, muttering a small ‘sorry’ after each one.
After each ‘sorry’, Price responds with, “It’s okay, let it out, sweetheart, you’re okay,” and those reassuring words only make you cry more because God, you didn’t even think he’d find you, yet here he is, letting you cry into his neck and is reassuring you after every apology that it’s okay.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry—” You mumble a litany of apologies into Price’s neck, your breath stuttering and hitching as you try to hold back your sobs. Price only shushes you and rubs his hand up and down your back in a comforting gesture, bringing his head up to kiss the top of your head.
He tucks your head under his chin, “Don’t apologize, it’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
And fuck, you know it’s just words, but it only makes you cry more.
Your sobs eventually stop, leaving you hiccuping against Price’s neck, silently crying as he continues to rub your back.
“I thought you died,” He whispers, his hand stuttering on your back, “I thought you died and I was going to dig up your dead body, when you didn’t answer me.”
You stay silent, letting him continue, “I thought you were dead when we dug you up and needed to feel your heartbeat for myself to confirm that you were still alive.”
He pauses for a moment before continuing, “I’ve been here ever since they put you in here. I haven’t slept, I’ve just stayed here, waiting for you to wake up so I could tell you that I—”
He chokes up for a moment before taking a deep breath and continuing, “I’m sorry for not even thinking to drag you out of the facility with me when we all ran out. You were— you were right there, and I couldn’t just grab your arm and take you with me, I just had to leave you behind and I—”
“You watched me while I was asleep?” You ask quietly, your eyebrows drawing together.
Price pauses and pulls his chin off of your head, and pulls you away from his neck so he can properly give you the most incredulous look he can pull, before saying, “I’m pouring my heart out to you and apologizing for practically leaving you for dead, and that’s what you’re worried about?”
“Well, I’m not worried, I’m just—” You shrug, not knowing how to explain it. Price sighs and chuckles quietly before tucking your head back under his chin.
“You’re insufferable,” He mumbles, sniffling a bit.
“… I forgive you, by the way,” You say after a moment of silence, “I didn’t really blame you in the first place.”
“You had the right to.”
“Sure I did.”
“But you didn’t blame me.”
“Right.”
“…” Price stays silent for a moment before pressing another soft kiss to the top of your head and saying quietly, “You should blame me.”
“Maybe,” You mumble back, “But I won’t.”
Later, maybe an hour later, if the others see you asleep in Price’s arms while he keeps your head tucked under his chin and rubs your back affectionately—no they don’t.
#sorry that its kinda short#i started it at 12 am and nows its 3 :<#i write slow ok#and i was watching d:bh playthroughs at the same time#its not my faukt#anyway#TAGGING SPEEDRUN#cod#cod hcs#hcs#task force 141#tf141#captain john price#john soap mactavish#platonic taskforce141#simon ghost riley#kyle gaz garrick#platonic task force 141#platonic task force 141 x reader#platonic cod#price#soap#ghost#gaz#they arent in this but im tagging them anyway#:3#hurt/comfort#angst
878 notes
·
View notes
Note
Here’s a smut idea that’s been stuck in my mind, how about the reader getting caught in the middle of “taking care of themself” and Astarion decides to join the fun but only to guide their hands along and just cooing soft, encouraging/teasing words into their ear 😩
Hi, anon! This was so naughty and I loved it. I wrote this fic in, like, less than two hours. So I guess that shows how excited I was to sketch this out haha. I hope you enjoy! xoxoxo
A Good Show
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader
Word Count: 1.5K
Warnings/Tags: masturbation (fem), praise kink, voyeurism, slight dom/sub vibes
Summary: Astarion catches you playing with yourself and is all too eager to help you finish.
*****
“Your wicked tongue got you into this predicament. You know that, don’t you?” Astarion smirked down at you, sprawled as you were on hands and knees over his lap.
You whimpered as his fingertips traced across your backside, feather-soft, mapping the skin there.
You heard the crack of his palm against your bottom before you actually registered the sting. A desperate mewl slipped from your lips as your mind attempted to reconcile the pain with the flood of arousal in your lower abdomen.
You were so wet. Dripping, filthy wet. And he knew it.
“Tch. So naughty. Not even a good smack can get you to behave. Whatever shall I do with you, hmm?” Astarion murmured. His hand resumed its tracing while the other carded through your hair lovingly.
“Whatever you want,” you breathed, trembling with want from the obscene position you found yourself in. Naked, bent over Astarion’s lap, ass smarting, and cunt as wet as the Chianthar.
“Dangerous words, darling,” he chuckled, dipping his fingers lower and slipping all too easily between your slick folds.
You moaned as you felt him insert two fingers inside you and begin pumping at a leisurely pace. His other hand soon joined, thumb circling slowly around your swollen clit. It was all you could do to remain balanced and not collapse on top of his lap.
You could see it so clearly in your mind’s eye.
Although it was your fingers pumping inside you, it was his hands you thought of. It was his slender digits, impaling you again and again. It was his thumb circling your clit until you nearly saw stars.
You’d shoved the collar of your tunic in your mouth to keep your voice muffled. The vision you were concocting was so vivid, it was nearly impossible to stop yourself from moaning. The humble little inn you all had settled in for the night was so quiet; you could only pray that no one heard you through the thin walls. But just a few more pumps of your fingers with fantasy-Astarion goading you on, and you knew that a climax would be nearing ever closer.
Your hopes for secrecy were dashed as your ears pricked, honing in on the quiet cough emanating from the corner of the room. You froze. To your horror, you realized the door to your quarters was ajar and who else but Astarion himself was now peering around it to find you, perched at the end of the bed, trousers at your ankles, playing with yourself.
You could have sworn you’d secured the latch on the door beforehand. But, then again, this place was in shambles. It was fully possible that the thing was too rusted to do its simple job. Either way, it hardly mattered now, given that the subject of your pleasure fantasy was now locking eyes with you in reality, his eyebrows raised in obvious amusement.
“My, my. What do we have here? And, more importantly, why didn’t I receive an invitation?” he smirked.
His voice spurred you into action, and you quickly rose from your reclined position to attempt to cover your not-so-decent bits from view. You could feel the red crush of embarrassment coloring every part of your body it could.
“Astarion, I’m so, so sorry. I swore I closed the door earlier and… and…” you trailed off, burying your face in your hands. “Gods, this is worse than a javelin to the thigh,” you finished in a muffled tone.
You heard his throaty chuckle. “These locks are all but disintegrated, darling. They’d barely hold a mouse at bay, I’d wager.”
You nodded, too mortified to continue having this conversation with him. It was bad enough to have been caught in the act, but to be caught by the very person you’d been fantasizing about? The gods were truly cruel.
You heard the door close with a quiet snick. Assuming Astarion had sauntered off down the hall, your shoulders sagged with the weight of all that had transpired.
You didn’t expect his voice to call to you again. This time, a little closer in proximity.
“Well, is that it, then?” he goaded.
You lifted your head slowly from your hands to peer at him. He was watching you with an intensity that one might see in a predator observing their prey.
“What do you mean?” you hedged.
“I mean, are you going to leave yourself half-sated, or are you going to finish what you started?” Astarion intoned.
“What - are you thinking of staying for a show?” you retorted, flabbergasted at yet another turn in the course of these events.
“Wouldn’t you like me to?” he pressed, a teasing smile stretching his lips wide. His fangs glinted in the candlelight. “I heard you sigh my name, you know.”
You stared at him in horror, but he only chuckled again.
“The wonders of elf ears and vampiric senses. They never cease,” he explained.
Then he made his way further into the room, closer to you, before slouching against one of the bedposts at the foot of the bed.
“I know you want to,” he murmured in a low drawl. “I can feel your arousal. It’s still boiling within you.”
Your breath stuttered of its own accord. His voice was so deep, so smooth, it was nearly impossible to resist.
“I don’t know that I can…” you whispered, not trusting your voice to keep the gravity of your desire a secret. “What with you, you know, just standing there watching me…”
“Oh, darling,” he cooed, peeling away from the bedpost to crawl up on the mattress behind you. You watched him, awestruck, until he disappeared from your peripheral vision.
“I plan to do much more than that,” he whispered against the shell of your ear.
You shivered as you felt his legs stretch and line up against yours, while his hands came to band around each of your wrists. You groaned as you felt the hardness of his erection pressed firm against your backside, realization dawning on you that he was enjoying this, too.
“Wh-what are you doing?” you breathed as you allowed him to lift your hands from your lap. Like you were a marionette on strings. His marionette. His strings.
“Making sure you give yourself a good finish,” he crooned. “Now, lean back into me, and start touching yourself again.”
The obscenity of it all caused your cunt to flush with arousal all over again. You clenched on thin air, a pitiful whine escaping your mouth.
“Three fingers this time, please,” Astarion whispered, nudging your right hand down lower. “I know you can take it.”
Your fingers followed his orders almost of their own accord. Like your body was primed and ready to take Astarion’s demands, whatever they may be.
You groaned as you sheathed three fingers inside your dripping cunt, pulsing them in and out. It was tight, so tight, but in the most delicious way.
“There’s a good girl,” he murmured through a kiss against your temple. “Now the other hand, if you will.”
You whined as he guided the fingers of your left hand to begin circling your swollen clit, almost too sensitive to bear.
“That’s it, darling. Yes. You follow orders so well,” he crooned. “Give yourself a good finish. Let me see how you touch yourself when you’re thinking of me.”
You were beyond words. Couldn’t fathom enough of them to string together a sentence. His name and a plea to the gods were all you could muster, and after a while those two seemed to blend into one. Astarion was the only god here that you could feel. And it was his praises you sang as he kept a firm grip on your wrists, forcing yourself to usher in your completion.
“You’re so close, I can almost taste it,” he breathed into your ear. You could feel his ragged breathing behind you as you continued to touch yourself, back arching into his chest all the while.
“Give me a good show, darling. Come for me. Come with my name on your lips,” he ordered.
Your body was more than willing to comply. With a last thrust of your fingers, landing all the harder thanks to the extra force Astarion applied to your hand, you wailed his name as you climaxed. Your body shuddered as you reeled from the pleasure of it, stars exploding behind your eyelids and reforming from the dust that remained.
It was the hardest orgasm you had ever experienced by your hand, and you knew it had everything to do with the one who had been guiding you. You collapsed your full weight into Astarion’s chest, soaking in the coolness of his skin against your heated flesh.
“That was… that was incredible…” you murmured after a moment spent collecting your breath.
You bounced against his body slightly as he chuckled. “It was, wasn’t it?” he mused. “You gave quite the performance, I have to say.”
“I had an excellent instructor,” you teased, eliciting a true bark of laughter from him at last.
“Free lessons for you, whenever you’d like,” he retorted, kissing your temple once more.
#dancingbirdiewrites#astarion x reader#bg3 astarion#astarion ancunin#astarion#baldurs gate astarion#bg3 astarion fic#astarion bg3#astarion smut#astarion x f!reader#lemon#lemon fic
604 notes
·
View notes
Note
a depressed and drunk johnny cage in his trailer on his birthday and we decide to surprise him. Us being a good bestfriend bake him a cute little cake with happy birthday spelt out in frosting and get permission to go deliver it to him.
what’s he supposed to do when he’s drunk and a cute little thing like us does something so sweet? sure it’s his birthday, but he thinks you deserve a gift and he ends up fucking you in his trailer.
love ya 💙💙💙
ARF ARF BARK BARK GRRR WOOF
johnny cage > happy bithday
you surprise your best friend on his birthday. he returns the favor.
warnings: smut ofc, he's drunk (i knowwww he's a canon recovering alcoholic BEAR WITH MEEE) SUB JOHNNY NATION RISE UP !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i kinda made him beg like a dog icl so hes kinda ooc oops
notes: INTENTIONAL MISSPELT TITLE!!! and this fic kicked my ASS. it took me like a week to get the courage to finish this holy fucking shit.
word count: 2.8k
[ masterlist ]
• you and johnny went far back. you had ties in the filming industry though you weren't on screen yourself. this drew you two together, even before you careers blossomed.
• you worked next door to his production, and you recall johnny expressing to you his annoyance for having to work on his birthday. he sounded... more miserable than usual, and it left a weird pit in your stomach.
• during your break, you ran into a nearby supermarket and purchased all the equipment you'd need: cake mix, frosting, sprinkles, and two numerical candles that spelled out 30. it took blood sweat in tears for you to bake this cake in record time, and decorating may have not been your strong suit but the purple frosting and gold lettering turned out... decent. hey, it's edible nonetheless!
• tip-toeing your way to his trailer, you were sure he had to be inside. you even double checked with his staff, and he was on an extended break while filming. standing at the door, you knock a couple times, and a stuffy, groaning voice responds.
• "m'busy," you know it's johnny's voice but it sounded far sadder than anticipated. hopefully the cake would cheer him up?
• you reply with his name through the crack in the door, and there's some shuffling before the door swings open. you don't even have time to wait or process the situation before johnny tugs you into his trailer by your arm. your face darkens slightly when you notice his flushed face and parted lips. his hair was messy, and the smell of alcohol poured from his mouth. the top few buttons of his dress shirt were undone, giving you a peek of his bare chest. any other situation, you'd be head over heels, but his appearance concerned you.
• "are you drunk?" you ask with a hint of bewilderment, and johnny can only wipe his eyes and nod weakly, giving you a lopsided grin that unfortunately makes you feel weak in the knees. you swore to god to never act on this little crush, since he was a celebrity and all, and you knew better than to put your genuinely good friendship at risk.
• "you made me a cake?" johnny's gentle, almost tearful voice tore away any anger that began to bubble up and replaced it with warmth. you nod and hold it out to him, and the faint candlelight flickers against his skin beautifully. he was so soft when he was drunk at times, and only you got to see this warmer side compared to his typical cocky ways.
• "it's... not my best work," you shrug sheepishly, looking down at the cake. when you look back up, you notice johnny's lashes are wet as they flutter, looking down at the cake with you. he sniffs, and wipes his eyes quickly.
• "you spelled it wrong." his smile doesn't falter but the tears threaten to spill.
• "what?"
• "doll... look," johnny's finger trails the iced words. "you forgot the R."
• oh, shit. you did. the cake reads HAPPY BITHDAY JOHNNY in the most confident gold lettering. the time crunch must've made your proofreading not too accurate. you blush and try to move the cake away from view, sliding it onto his vanity.
• as you were about to sputter useless apologies and try to move on, johnny takes a step closer and fully embraces your body in his large arms, his form completely overtaking yours and trapping you in his grasp. johnny's head buries itself in the crook of your neck as he squeezes tight, nearly knocking the wind out of you.
• on instinct, your arms try to wrap around his body, gripping his shirt tightly. johnny mutters something incoherent, his drunken ramblings a key trait of his state.
• "you're so sweet to me," he mumbles tearfully, peppering kisses along your neck. sure, he was affectionate typically, but he was kissing your neck. he was drunk, but... your heart fluttered.
• "hey, hey..." you rub his back soothingly, hoping maybe you could stop him from attacking your neck in hopes it'll cool your rising heat. "because you're my best friend."
• he whines into your neck, presumably in appreciation of your words. your neck begins to have a faint smell of alcohol.
• "such a sweet girl..." he doesn't stop. his hands wander to your lower back, pulling you in harder. this worries you, deeply.
• "johnny," your voice is warning as they find their place on his broad shoulders. "easy, easy, you're drunk."
• "whassat matter," he bites down into your flesh, making you yelp in shock. "mean so much to me."
• when his hands find their way to your ass, kneading at the flesh, you shove him away with furrowed brows. "you don't want this," you warn him, fighting every single urge to not pounce on him in that moment. "this is... really, really stupid, i mean, it's just a birthday-"
• johnny shuts you up quickly with a kiss, slamming his face against yours so hard you feel the clack of his teeth. his face cups yours, borderline squeezing your cheeks as his lips dance with yours. when he finally pulls away, a string of saliva connects your lips and it sends you weak in the knees.
• "doll," he huffs, wiping his mouth. "birthday or not, i've wanted you for so long." he's breathless and nearly incoherent, like this was his only shot at what he truly wanted. johnny was infamous for admitting shit when drunk, so you knew that this was true for the most part. this was only reinforced when he suddenly dropped to his knees, level with your stomach as he placed fluttering kisses along the front of your shirt.
• "please, i..." he pressed his face into the fabric, fists bunching up around the back. "i'll make you feel real good, if you let me..." his hand snakes under your shirt, rubbing circles in the flesh of your waist as he looks up with pleading eyes. your hand moves downward, raking gently through his hair.
• "you really want this?" you ask gently, toying with his hair. "no going back."
• his lips brush against your stomach as he teeters between kissing the skin and speaking against it. "i want you so bad, doll."
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
• all it took was your permission, and johnny was on you in seconds. he backed you into his vanity, sending various items clattering to the ground. he fit so snug between your thighs, settling there to make out with you. perhaps he didn't even notice, but he was gently rutting into you as your lips connected, expelling desperate whimpers down your throat that only fueled your long-time desire. his cock could just barely make out the dip between your folds, but he pressed a little harder and made you gasp when your clit received unexpected attention.
• johnny pulls you in by the waistband of your pants, pressing your bodies impossibly closer as he panted in your ear. "let me taste you," he begged in a low whisper as he hooked his thumbs under the fabric. "i'll be good, i'll be so good."
• jesus, it seemed he wanted to eat you out more than you wanted to be eaten out. you'd never seen this flavor of eagerness in a man and it admittedly took you some strength to not giggle at how johnny fucking cage of all people became a lost, drunken puppy between your legs.
• "go on, pretty boy," you pant as your lips brush. the smell of alcohol brings you back to reality for only a moment.
• johnny decided that words took too much effort and instead dropped to his knees before you, shoulders holding up the weight of your plush thighs as he parted them hungrily to not waste a second more.
• the poor man forgets to even remove your pants before he's pressing his nose onto your heat, eyelashes fluttering as his heart swells with adoration. your scent, your heaving chest, your pretty thighs weighing his shoulders down, it was all too much. his pants feel a size too tight as his boner strains against his slacks.
• you get his brain going by jumping your hips up to get your pants past your ass, letting him pull them down the rest of the way. he throws them far, far away and latches himself again onto your pussy, now only divided by the fabric.
• "you were so eager before," you groan, thrusting forward slightly to put more pressure. "take them off."
• "no," he mutters against your panties, the vibrations making you jolt. "want this to last." his tongue flattens, drawing a long stripe up the fabric. when your panties stick to your pussy, it makes out the shape and he groans at the tease.
• "hold on," he places your thighs back down, trying to calm his breathing and flushed face. "i... i need this first. please." he unbuckles himself and pulls his slacks down to his thighs, giving you a view of his rock solid boner. it honestly looked painful, and you felt pity even if he looked adorable like this. his eyes were downward, fidgeting with his loose belt in shame. he chuckles breathily. "it's so hard, it hurts."
• "that's..." you struggle to find words when your mouth goes dry staring at his thick imprint. "that's alright." your voice was flat, trying to hide your desperation at his need to ask for permission. he didn't need to ask.
• johnny swallows thickly and lets his pants drop, followed by his boxers. his cock was blushed and seeping with precum, twitching once when he looked back up at you. he lets out a small moan, getting far ahead of himself as he positions his hips against yours. he gasps when the contact is made, stuttering his hips ever so slightly. johnny's hands find your thighs again, squeezing down hard to ground himself to not cum immediately. sober and platonic interactions were already far too much for his raging desire for you, so actually getting what he craved was beyond overstimulating.
• you were sick of waiting, so you snake your arms to rest atop his shoulders, hands raking through his undercut. you grip down slightly and he bites his lower lip in response, eyebrows knitting together as his wet eyes burn through yours. you glide your cunt along his throbbing dick and he jolts forward, resting his damp forehead against your shoulder.
• johnny understands you're just as eager as him and begins to thrust into your damp panties, but quickly decides it won't give him what he needs, so he hooks them with his thumb and stretches them aside. his tongue darts out to wet his lips, his eyes are glossed over and all he can fixate on is your pleasure.
• his tip notches between your folds and settles nicely, earning a hiss from the both of you from the warmth. johnny bucks forward eagerly, sliding himself up and down seamlessly due to how soaked you were. your folds hug his cock in just the right way, and you feel yourself already feeling heavenly every time your sensitive clit bumps against his tip.
• "fuck, doll," he hisses into the skin of your neck, placing open mouth kisses. "i want to last, you're - ngh - making it so hard... so hard..." he trails off, groaning when you slip and make his tip kiss the entrance of your cunt, making his knees buckle. "'m gonna cum just from this... god, you're so beautiful, beautiful girl-" his praises become increasingly more high pitched and you can tell by the way he begins to stutter his hips that he's close, unable to last long and it's driving him wild.
• johnny wasn't ever this needy, ever this pathetic. you reduced the cocky a-lister to a near-sobbing mess as he slips across your cunt, finding a momentum difficult from how slippery the entire scene has become. his cock is soaked, dripping down his leg due to your arousal.
• just as your orgasm builds up, as does his, johnny pulls away and lowers himself, gripping the flesh of your ass to pull your hips to his mouth. now thoroughly soaked and clenching around nothing, your cunt is desperate for a release that johnny happily provides, latching onto your clit, and shoving two fingers deep in your hole. he flattens his tongue, shaking his head slightly and flicking your clit relentlessly.
• your orgasm rides up on you rapidly, overwhelmed by the direct pleasure and how filled you were from two of his long fingers alone. wanting to lurch forward as your body trembles, johnny uses his other hand to sit flatly on your stomach, pushing you up against the mirror of the vanity and forcing you to take his lapping and fingering.
• johnny couldn't stand to have your pleasure soak his cock, shockingly. he needed, needed to taste the mess you were making for him or he just might die. you shake, trying to writhe and twitch as your orgasm fights you in waves. loud moans are pulled from your throat with each pulse of pleasure. your arousal soaks johnny's face, effectively soaking his nose and chin as he devours all you have to offer. he matched your moans with high-pitched whimpers, brows knitting together as his eyes clench shut. he was in heaven just as much as you were.
• he continues to lap at you until you force him away by his hair, his mouth becoming borderline painful as he eats you out through your orgasm. you giggle, as it slightly tickles. johnny looks... well, still drunk, but now a new kind. pussydrunk? lovedrunk? either way, the glossy look on his face suits him.
• as your chest heaves, attempting to recollect yourself, everything about the situation comes back to reality. you just grinded against your best friend. your best friend made you cum from his mouth.
• "what's that look?" johnny asks, wiping his mouth with his forearm. his eyes are glittering with delight.
• "nothing," you shrug, his grin contagious. "you did good, johnny."
• "yeah?" he seems proud of himself, glancing downward for a moment. he squeezes your thighs lovingly, placing a gentle kiss on them before finally standing up.
• "yeah." just as you respond, you look down to his cock, wondering if maybe he'd need some help getting there, too. it seemed only fair, that is, until you notice it's semi-hard and soaked. you sit up and lean forward, looking past your legs and onto his trailer floor. cum is splattered onto the flooring, some of it dripping down his thigh. "you came from giving head?"
• "how could i not have?" johnny's sheepish at your observation, but owns up to it quickly as he tucks it back into his slacks. "you're incredible." his face is tinted pink.
• "you're too sweet," you giggle, and johnny helps you down from the vanity as your legs wobble. giving up on finding wherever the hell your pants went, johnny leaves for a moment and returns with a pair of pajama pants, presumably a pair he kept in the trailer for his princess naps.
• "look who's talking... hey, speaking of sweet," johnny laughs, rubbing his hands together. "you and me wash up, and we have some cake, yeah?"
• "i like that plan," as you jump into the pants. johnny visibly tenses up seeing your breasts bounce from the jump, and he can't ignore the way your thighs and ass jiggle. "where did i put it, anyway?"
• you both look around the trailer for a moment, the memory of placing the cake down hazy among the rest of the event. you let out a small gasp, realizing that the cake was on the vanity, the one you got fucked out on... or rather, it was. the cake was splattered on the floor, frosting spread out and depressingly smeared anywhere it could reach. you frown, and johnny hovers behind you as you both look over the mess.
• "that sucks," johnny sighs, but his voice sounds uplifting. "that's alright, i ate something better."
• "don't be gross," you giggle, swatting at his form behind you. "that was perfectly good cake."
• "we can make another," johnny offers. "together. and i'll make sure you spell it right this time." his arms wrap around your middle, pulling you in close and breathing in the scent of your hair. the sweat, perfume and natural smell you carried always drove him wild, but he was now comfortable enough to bury himself in it. you lean into his touch, sighing as the heat from your bodies provides the perfect comfort.
• "happy birthday, johnny," you mumble softly, rocking back and forth in his arms. johnny responds into your hair, his voice breathy and warm.
• "thank you, doll."
#mortal kombat#mortal kombat x reader#johnny cage#mk1#johnny cage x reader#johnny cage smut#mortal kombat smut#marley writes ☆
314 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
sereniv
Got that sleepy bitch disease
toxicloveposts
Toxic Love
jedmakhochu
yam
maldivasrp
* 𝐑𝐈𝐎 𝟒𝟎°
kyouei-love
全部競泳水着