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monarcascension · 9 months

Text

louder than bombs | y.h

summary : You and Yunho’s relationship was a complicated one. But not as complicated as the relationship you both shared with Choi San, your “ex” and his ex-best friend. After ending things with him years ago, you and Yunho embarked on a situationship of your own, however things between you begin to spiral out of control putting your relationship in danger. Will your feelings for each other help you salvage what you have? Or will you lose him forever?

pairings: jeong yunho x fem!reader

tags: MINORS DNI, nsfw, smut warning, unprotected sex, asphyxiation, guided masturbation, domxsub, creampie, violence, blood warning, vulgar language, sensual language, sex talk, rough sex ♡

*DISCLAIMER : This story is mainly for entertainment purposes. This is not a representation of the artists themselves or their actual personalities and is only created to be a work of fiction. Their actions are only for storytelling and literary purposes.*

[ AVOID SPOILERS — READ PART 1 HERE ] ㋛㋛㋛

[ User Tags: @simeonswhore @hopetiger10 ]

word count: 13K

——

Regret was like a vicious toxin. Eroding you from the inside out until there was nothing left other than the thought of what could have been. Desperate clings to the paths you chose not to take prior. Ever since San, you lived with many of them. You wished you never met him. You had a desire to rewind time and make it so he was never a part of your life to begin with. You were tired of being tangled in all of this pain that his selfishness had caused you, but you loathe yourself for letting it get this far.

Now to add onto the declaration list of your compunctions, you stood in disbelief from what you just let slip out of your mouth to the man you had previously shared a piece of your heart with.

“I…I think I fell in love with Yunho.”

The sentence looped in your head; echoing like bats trying to echolocate their way through a dark cave. Those were words that you never thought you would ever utter to yourself, let alone anybody else. You swore free from the spell of “love” or whatever those feelings meant to you, and kept them under a stiff lock and key even from Yunho who you had grown into this semi-functional situationship with. The two of you, however, had a deal. You both were aware of what you were stepping into when you decided to share a bed that night—making it clear that feelings would never be involved in what you had. It kept things from being complicated between you— the one barrier that protected you both from one another, from the disappointment that could be brought on from any physical adventure— had been ruined because of you.

Because you decided to fall in love yet again.

Your heart was thumping so roughly against the cage of your chest that it was beginning to pierce skin. Your forehead was moist with beaded sweat. You wiped it away, curious to know if it was from the immoral activities the two of you had just finished, or from the anxiety you felt at what his response could possibly be. The silence was too much for you to bear so you cleared your throat, hoping to subtract from the awkwardness.

All you could hear was his rough, ragged breath intermingling with your broken sighs. You were too scared to look at him, afraid of what might reflect back at you if you did. The sudden need to explain yourself arised, feeling it to be your responsibility to mitigate whatever hurt you had just caused. But what could you possibly say to fix everything? Words weren’t enough in this instance.

Your brain finally cleared from the high you were on, giving you full autonomy over your thoughts. “San I-” You stammered, but a hand and a low tone hushed you within moments.

“You… love him?.” His voice was calm, but his words were harsh. Deserved at the least. “So, why did you kiss me? Why did we just do anything that we just did?”

The last thing you ever though you would do if you saw him again was fuck him the first chance you got. You believed that it was the guilt of knowing that you could never love San the way he wanted you to. Engulfed in the inability to properly explain what it was that you felt with words, you said with action. Though, it may have been the wrong action considering the circumstances. The realization that the two of you never shared a real emotional connection and could only communicate through physical means was the main source of your confusing relationship with him. One thing you learned however was that sex didn’t always mean love or an invitation into something serious. Sometimes sex was just that. Sex. Sometimes it was a physical love letter. Sometimes it was a goodbye.

You wished you would have discovered that sooner rather than now.

You swallowed a clump of saliva in your throat and moved away from the door that you both were propped up against. “I’m sorry. I can’t give you what you want, San.”

San scoffed at that comment. “You can’t? Or you’d rather give it to someone else?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, running your fingers over your forehead like you were trying to make sure your brain was still there and functioning. “This was a mistake.”

You paced the bathroom floor. The words sounded more heartless and cruel leaving your mouth than it sounded in your head.

You fetched your phone and purse that clattered to the floor and tucked them underneath your arm, striding over to the bathroom sink to fix whatever damage your look had undergone.

Your lipstick had smudged a bit because of the inopportune display of affection, and you quickly fixed it with a facial wipe that was tucked inside the depths of your bag. You readjusted yourself; affixed your dress straps back into place and refluffed your hair until you looked a little better than you had moments ago. It wasn’t the same but it would do for now. The final touch was just masking the scent of sex that was practically etched into your skin with the perfume that you always carried with you. Your hair would hide the light bruise on your neck that San left from canvassing your flesh with his mouth.

“Wow.” He sounded hurt. You could not blame him. “ A mistake, huh? So, you're saying you still felt something for me— was that a mistake too?”

“Look, this is too complicated for either of us. It always has been, and I think we have collectively had enough complicated relationships to last us a lifetime.” You inhaled with a sharp breath. “Let's just end it. Once and for all—on a good note this time.”

“No, this isn’t complicated for me.” San stood to his feet now, tugging on the dress shirt he had on to straighten it back out again. “This is complicated for you.”

“I don’t want to fight about this, San. Just drop it.”

He continued anyway. “Am I wrong? You’re confused. You don’t know what you want! Who you want.”

You didn’t bother to look at him directly, only stared at the silhouette of his figure in the corner of the mirror. There was a noise rising in your throat, breaking through your closed lips and out into the air. You started to laugh.

“What? You wanted me to choose you? After everything you put me through.” You chuckled again. “You’re out of your damn mind. I’d rather be with someone who actually knows how to love me.”

“Love you?” San snickered. “You don’t know Yunho as well as you think you do, if you believe he’s actually capable of loving you. Believe me when I say, he’s not the guy you think he is.”

You almost gave yourself whiplash from the force of the twirl as you turned to look at San, shooting an incredulous look at him. What was that supposed to mean? You’ve spent years being around Yunho and he was just as sweet and gentle as he had always been. He was caring and open and.. you wanted to believe that the stream of affections that he had shown you came from somewhere deep down. Came from him possibly loving you. At least you hoped.

“And you think you’re better? You think you know everything, San, but you don’t. We didn't want any of this, it just h-”

“Happened. Right?” He finished your words like they were his own.

The two of you stared at one another. You could feel the heat rising to your face, your skin– although burning with the anger that was manifesting– felt cold.

“You say you love him and he loves you, blah blah blah, but what do you think he’ll do when he finds out what happened between us?” San said with a sneer.

All you could do was stare at him for a moment. Your eyes darted around his figure wildly, trying to reveal whatever secret meaning was behind his words. Or was it a threat? You tried not to think of that possibility as you turned back to face the mirror, focused on the goal that you were trying to achieve. You heard some minor shuffling from behind you, but paid no mind to it. The bathroom door squeaked open with a shrill, and you awaited the moments that the door closed, telling you that San was gone, but it never came. There was the loud chatter from outside where the rest of the party was, and the classical music being played from the live band.

Then he spoke again. “I was really hoping things would be different between us this time, but I guess you chose the wrong guy to love, again. Right?”

You paused for a moment, sitting on the last words that San left you with before he walked out of the bathroom— leaving you completely and utterly alone. Again. That simple word stung you more than you were willing to admit; feeling almost uncomfortable in your own skin as the sentence dug deeper into your flesh causing you to writhe and shift in place. However, he was right.

What did you really know about love anyway except the part of it that hurt the most? How would you know if Yunho was really even the right one to love you in the first place? What if you couldn’t love him as you say you did? Stuck in the perpetual cycle of pain all over again because of an inadequacy that you lacked within yourself. You loved San once, didn’t you? Wasn’t everything you put yourself through with him for the sake of love? Or was it something else? So many questions clouded your brain, it was overwhelming. You could not answer them all at once, for the answers never offered themselves to you in the first place.

Everything you thought you knew, came crumbling down in a matter of seconds, leaving a wake of unregistered feelings and unsolved emotional turmoils.

You spent the better part of the last four years in anguish over San. That night you found him in the arms of another woman, haunted you. The words “I love you” hurt you more than they healed you, carving a wound so deep in your heart that you felt it would never mend itself. You despised those words, and could never bring yourself to say them. Questioning yourself on what love really is all over again.

플래시백

You loved Seoul Forest Park. In fact, other than Namsan, this was the park you visited more frequently. It was more peaceful. Your sacred place. However, this is the first time you came with someone else, and the atmosphere was just as calm and serene as you had left it months ago. The trees dance in a contemporary style swaying elegantly in the wind, telling a story of their place in this reserve. The leaves shuffled against one another, forming the instruments for the performance; since it was coming upon the Spring, they were just as bright and healthy as you could have hoped. The sky was a pale blue, brushed with sparse, but fluffy clouds overhead. The sun hid its blinding rays behind the tufts of white that passed over it, protecting both you and Yunho from the unforgiving heat.

The two of you were sitting at the pond, surrounded with beautiful stone tablets. Some of them even crossed the water like a small bridge. Yunho was skipping rocks that he found nearby, while you watched a family of ducks run across the stone with its brigade of ducklings. One of them fell into the water clumsily. You smiled more happily than you usually would have at the sight as the other babies attempted to stick their stout beaks into the water to help their sibling up. The mother took notice and tried to see what the commotion was about. You giggled a bit to yourself, but possibly louder than you thought. Yunho perked up and followed your gaze to find the source of your laughter.

“Have you ever had a duck before?” He asked you, quite randomly.

You turned to him with raised eyebrows, but readjusted to engage in the sudden conversation. “No, not as a pet, but.” You thought about it for a moment, trying to recall your childhood. “Since I used to live by a bigger lake, we saw a lot of ducks come and go. My dad and I used to feed them together.”

“They’re funny little things, but they always seem to be on the move— never stay in one place too long.” There seemed to be something that Yunho wanted to say, but he wasn’t sure how to say it. So, he continued. “I used to have one named Oli. I feel like he only used me for my bread, but he was a real pal. I think I missed a Summer seeing him since I was inside playing video games most of the time, and he was probably expecting me to come and feed him, but I forgot… never saw him again after that. I wonder where he is now.”

You closed your eyes and sighed, shaking your head in that same disappointed manner you always did and laughed against your will. “Maybe those are his kids.”

Yunho grinned and laughed, considering the possibility. “Maybe, but those ducks don’t have his feathers.”

You chuckled and sighed all in the same breath. “It feels so easy for animals to just pick up and move on after being disappointed. I’m jealous of Oli.”

Yunho smiled at you for a moment. His gaze shifted towards the grassy slope you both sat on, twiddling with the blades at his side. “Yeah, I probably really let him down, but I don’t think it’s that easy for them to move on. When you spend a lot of time in one place, you get accustomed to it. If I was Oli, I would like coming home to that nest or that pond everyday, but then have to pick up and move again every winter? That’d be so bothersome. So, if I was used to getting fed at one house and then have to find another? I’d be pretty pissed.”

You thought about his words, piecing together whatever analogy he was trying to prove in your head. You looked over again at the family of ducks only to find them now swimming in the pond together.

Yunho spoke up again after clearing his throat. “What I’m trying to say is: moving on isn’t easy for anyone or anything. It’s a process, and it takes time. Maybe Oli was disappointed in me for not being there, but overtime, I know he found something else. He never stopped moving just because he was hurt by someone.”

Your eyes stayed latched on the duck family that paddled around the lake in a circle. Always moving and still enjoying it. You let a deep breath escape you. “Moving on can be lonely sometimes, though. At least they have each other.”

Yunho nodded, looking out at the vast sea of green grass and trees on the other side of the lake. “It can be. Nobody said you always had to do it alone, though. Birds and ducks and things like that, they're not always alone when they move down South. They always have people that love them by their side, so why can't we?”

You glanced over at Yunho, looking at the small squint in his eyes as he gazed up at the sky; trying to shield himself from looking directly at the sun that was beginning to peak from behind the clouds. His once pink hair had now faded into a light blonde, blowing messily across his forehead. He caught your gaze and stared back at you. That goofy grin pulling at his lips as you turned away shyly; the both of you sharing a brief laugh.

“What?” He asked. “You were staring at me first. I can't look at you?”

“It’s not that.” You chuckled, pulling your lips into your teeth for a moment. “Just trying to figure out when you got so philosophical.”

“There’s a lot of things about me you don’t know.” He started moving closer to you. His hands reached up towards your face and used the knuckle of his finger to brush a stray piece of your hair from your forehead.

You only watched him, being sure to not make any wayward movements. His eyes searched your face intently, trying to glean some kind of answer from you. “The one thing you should know though, is that I’m always going to be here with you.”

His fingers caressed down your cheek, stopping at your chin. That same, singular finger tilted your head upwards and pulled you into a soft kiss. Your relationship with him was still confusing, but you never questioned it. It was merely yours. No one else's. No one had to define what you were. You just… were.

Your lips curled up into a smile once Yunho backed away from you. You brought your knees up to your chest and hugged them, rocking yourself over to the side until you landed flush against Yunho. Your head tucked just underneath his chin. He adjusted himself closer to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

The two of you didn’t say anything else while you sat there engulfed in one another. Ever since that night the two of you shared, Yunho had not left your side. Of course, he would still give you the space you needed, but when the two of you were together. It really was just the two of you. When he held you like this, you took in the comforting fragrance he had on— smelling similar to apple— and would fall into him with ease. Yunho always possessed this calming energy about him and that's always how you felt. You loved and cherished every moment you spent with him.

There was a warmness growing in your chest. That deep, bleeding, gash that San left on your heart slowly began to close.

계속하다

You had to find Yunho. Your mind slipped the fact that he had miraculously disappeared into the thicket of the party. Jamie also had to be confused as to where you went, considering you had been gone for almost twenty minutes with no correspondence. You checked your phone as you exited the bathroom, hoping for something. Jamie had texted you asking where you were and you quickly responded, telling her that you simply got lost in the magnitude of the hall. But nothing from Yunho.

I’ll undo the lie later. Sorry, Jamie. You said to yourself, clicking off the device and stumbling back into the party. It was just as lively as you had left it, but urgency filled the air instead of the fun you were promised. All you wanted to do was find Yunho and get out of here, and put this whole shit show behind you. So, you continued your search. This time, you called out for him.

You searched the perimeter first. You only found big wigs with their companions sitting at round dining tables with their share of dinner and drink. The ballroom floor was not as crowded now as many had found seats to sit in and were engaging in conversation elsewhere, giving you enough space to trek forward without bumping into anyone.

“Yunho!” You called out, fruitlessly. No answer. You searched amongst the semi-sparse group in the area. Seeing no familiar faces yet. The live band was drowning you out this close up. It would be impossible for anyone that happened to be out of earshot to hear you.

But then a voice called out to you. “Hey! Over here.”

You spun around quickly, a few groups away was Mingi. He raised his drink high in the sky so you could see him and his black and blonde streaked hair, and you sighed in relief. Happy to see a friendly face, even if it wasn’t the one you were hoping for. Beside him were Hongjoong and Seonghwa, Yeosang, Jongho. Wooyoung and Veronica were missing and- Your heart caved, but rose again from the elated feeling as your eyes landed on the tall blonde.

“Yunho.” you murmured softly.

You quickly made your way over to them, saying your pardons to those who were in the way and squished yourself between the rather large group of men that you had come to call your friends. “Hey everyone. It’s good to see you, y’all look great.”

“So do you. You look like you’ve been running a marathon, though.” Seonghwa said, looking at the guys.

“Yeah, are you alright?” Yunho cooed softly, more concerned.

No. “Yeah! I was just um… Yunho. I’ve been looking for you, everywhere. We think we’re going to head out.”

“Already?” Yunho looked at his watch. “Why? Did something happen?”

“Well-“

“I hope y’all aren't skipping out so soon!” A voice chimed a little bit away from where you stood. “The party’s just getting started.”

A hand clapped around Yunho and Yeosang’s shoulder suddenly and his head jerked to the side to see San rounding around the man’s tall figure. Wooyoung in toe with a jovial grin on his face. Everyone in the group, including you, shifted uncomfortably where they were standing. They were fine when he was with them earlier, laughing and joking like everything was peachy, but that changed now that you were with them. They all knew.

You and Yunho exchanged brief glances before he rolled his eyes, folding his arms across his chest. “San.”

He sounded agitated; trying to mask it behind that smooth and cool voice of his. You never really questioned him about his relationship with San. Nor did you ever ask him. You knew he always hung around the guys regardless of if he was there, but the only thing you knew about their situation was that Yunho had moved out with Yeosang a few months prior and San, Seonghwa, and Mingi all lived together now.

“Good to see you, buddy! It’s been a while. You look good. Nice suit.” San almost sounded believable, if it weren’t for the fact that you knew he was pissed at both of you.

Yunho looked at you again, and you stared back at him practically mortified. He squinted at you looking for answers.

Is he the reason you wanted to leave? Yunho seemed to ask through eyes alone.

San didn’t even seem to acknowledge your presence yet, but he knew you were there. He only looked at Yunho, who was trying his best to ignore him. Seonghwa stepped forward towards San, placing a hand on his shoulder like he had done Yunho, and spoke low into his ear, trying to tug him away at the same time. San brushed him off almost instantly.

“Nah, Nah, Nah. Wooyoung and I already had a drink. Three, actually.” He said, trying to recount the number in his head. “Oh! I saw Jamie over there too. She did not look happy to see me. Didn’t even say a word. I would have loved to catch up with her. We were friends once, just like Yunho and I. Right bud?”

He smacked him on the back, and Yunho only shifted slightly in his spot. He chewed on the inside of his mouth, annoyed. Upset. The others looked amongst each other, confused at what was going on, but they knew better than anybody.

“Alright, that's enough.” Yunho said, straightening himself, rising to his full height as he shrugged out of San’s grasp. “You’re drunk.”

“Maybe we should get out of here too.” Yeosang chimed up, trying to keep that happy smile he usually possessed. “We have something to do tomorrow morning anyway.”

The group all spoke in agreement with the statement, trying to shift out of the group with San, but he resisted. Suddenly, another body joined the commotion. You looked beside you to see Jamie looking wary of the situation. She looked to you and then Yunho, seeing the visible distress on your faces.

“Where the hell have you two been?” Jamie’s voice was almost in a whisper. “What’s going on?”

“I’ll explain later.” You reached out to Yunho and grabbed the crest of his arm. “Yunho. Let’s just go.”

“It would be really nice if we all had a chance to catch up, really.” San continued. He seemed happy, but his face was just flushed with red and his eyelids lower than before. It was clear that he had drunk much more than he said. But he was coherent enough to cause problems as always.

San finally looked over at you and shivers ran down your spine. He smiled, “You and I did enough catching up. Don’t you think?”

Your stomach turned. Yunho glanced over at you and then back at San. “I think it’s best if you listen to the guys. You need to go.”

“Tell him. We had a lot of fun catching up a little bit ago didn’t we?” San took a step towards you and Yunho quickly intervened. His frame towering over the both of you, and all you could see was the way he glared at San.

The vein on the side of his neck wriggled beneath his skin. San did not shy from him though. Whatever liquor was running through his system had made him brazen and unafraid. The smile that lined San’s face had dwindled like the flame of a candle at the end of its wax. He took one courageous step up to Yunho who kept his eyes on him the entire time. Hongjoong and Seonghwa tried to pull him back. Jongho told him it wasn’t a good idea and encouraged him to leave, but he shrugged off all resistance. Yunho was unwavering in his defense. You anxiously looked between the two of them and your body moved before your mouth did.

“Yunho. Come on, let’s just go home.” You tried to reach out for him again, but Jamie pulled you back, catching you by the arm.

You looked back to see her sternly shaking her head. The people beside you were beginning to gawk in your direction, whispering to each other about the sudden fuss.

San stepped up to him again until they were mere inches apart. “Yunho. Yunho. Yunho.” He mocked. “Everybody just thinks you’re the greatest guy. Jeong Yunho: can’t ever do any wrong. Can he? But they don’t know, do they?”

Everyone looked around nervously. Your palms were beginning to feel moist with sweat. Your heart pounding against your chest; out of its usual steady rhythm. Jamie even perked up at the comment.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Yunho snipped.

San’s hand came in contact with Yunho’s shoulder and he pushed him back with just a few of his fingers. Yunho barely budged, his shoulder falling out of its original place before stiffening back. San took another step. “Tell them.”

Hongjoong stepped in, gripping San’s shoulder. “San, man. Don’t cause a scene.”

San ignored him, shaking free of his hold. “Tell them, Yunho.” San had more bass in his voice now. He pushed him again. The look in his eye was almost evil. He pushed Yunho back again, this time Yunho took a step behind him as he did.

San tried to press him again, but Yunho wrapped his large hands around his wrist, stopping him in midair. You could see the pain lurch onto San’s face for a moment as his nose twitched. Yunho bared his teeth and got closer to him, squeezing his fist around his arm. “Touch me again, and I’ll break your fucking hand.”

“Tough guy. Then you’re brave enough to admit that you’ve been fucking the girl I loved behind my back. All of our backs.”

Yunho looked over to you for a moment. There was a brief panic in his eyes, but he hid it well enough. You wanted to help him, but San was relentless. Still, Yunho said nothing, standing firm against San’s sudden aggression.

“So what if I am?” You shuddered. Everyone’s eyes turned to you suddenly. Including Jamie. You could feel her green eyes burning a hole in the side of your head.

“What?!” Jamie said, “You two- is he serious? Is he telling the truth?”

You turned to her, tears beginning to line your eyes. You couldn’t bring the sound out, so you mouthed “I'm sorry.”

Yunho threw down San’s hand. Seeing him reeling for a moment. “Happy now?”

He started walking away from him, seemingly unfazed, but by the look on his face you could tell that he felt bad for putting the both of you on the spot. Neither of you wanted it to come out this way mere moments from being in your arms again.

San smiled. “Don’t feel too bad, bud. We’re not the only ones who fucked someone else behind someone’s back.” He turned to look at you this time. “Isn’t that right?”

Yunho looked back at him, following San’s mischievous gaze directly to you. Fear overtook you. Your face fluttered with shame as you watched the realization hit him on what happened. He knows. A tear streamed down your cheek.

“Let me tell ya’. She tastes just as good as I remembered-“

A few heavy gasps filled the room. Shocked and frightened shrieks left you and Jamie’s mouths as Yunho’s fist cracked across San’s jaw. Completely knocking him off balance. He was so fast that you hadn’t even noticed Yunho lunge at him in the first place. Before you or the guys could scramble to stop either of them from retaliating further, San was already recovering from the punch. He spat out blood that had gathered in his mouth from the sudden appearance of a cut on his lip. He turned on his toes, dealing back the same blow to Yunho’s face despite his size. The hit was much more vicious, sending crimson spattering across his cheek. But he did not stop. He swung blind again. Yunho was fast but San was faster. He stepped back just in time. The crowd backed away as well, scared of the fight ensuing.

“Guys, enough!” You screamed out but they hadn’t heard you, or they did but just didn’t care.

The two of them were scrapping like they were in the streets. One punch more lethal than the last. The once beautifully polished floor was now ruined with the droplets and spatters of their blood. And they didn’t stop, despite the efforts of their friends trying to pull them off of one another. Yeosang and Jongho grabbed desperately at the back of Yunho’s suit. Seonghwa and Mingi tried to grab San. Wooyoung was in the middle and tried to pull them both apart with the help of Hongjoong, but they didn’t budge. It was chaos. They were yelling and the people were screaming, but drawing closer to see the fight while others fled. Somehow Yunho had toppled over San. He straddled him, dealing blow after blow. San tried to fight back but to no avail. You couldn’t watch this anymore.

You fought out of Jamie’s hold on you and rushed into the middle. You moved Hongjoong aside just in time before Yunho cocked his hand back.

Both of your hands latched around his forearm and you pulled. “Yunho stop!”

Yunho quickly craned his neck back to see who had grabbed him. He was completely blinded by rage that he hadn’t even noticed it was you for a second. His cheek had been cut and was bleeding. His bottom lip was also split and there was a small cut above his eyebrow. His hair was a slight mess, leaving a few strands dangling in his face, stuck to his forehead from sweat.

You reached out to touch his face, brushing across his cheek lightly coming in contact with the blood that was dripping. “Please.”

His vision slightly began to clear as the scowl he had on his face diminished and his breathing slowed. Someone came pushing their way through the crowd at that moment. You were sure someone called the police, but it was a lone woman in a long, gold ball gown style dress. Dark hair fell down her slender shoulders and there was a look of annoyance on her face.

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!” Veronica boomed.

She looked down at San who was sputtering and laughing all the same, Yunho who was pulling himself off of him, standing beside you weakly. And then over at you. Veronica’s eyes sparked between yours for a moment and you could see understanding in them. Not empathy, but a realization that this was somehow your fault, which wasn’t too far off in hindsight. All you didn’t calculate was that they would start fistfighting in the middle of the ballroom. Veronica moved over to San, dropping even elegantly, beside him to see how badly he was hurt.

Yunho wiped the blood from his lip with his own thumb before turning to Veronica. “Nice party.” He said before slinking away into the crowd that parted ways for him.

You looked down at San who also watched him leave, trying to sit up slowly on the floor with Veronica and Wooyoung’s help. Bright red bruises were all over his face.

“You were so tired of being miserable alone that you had to bring everybody else down with you. Well, congratulations, San. Now we’re even.”

Jamie rested a hand on the side of your arm, pulling you back the way Yunho had gone. “Come on, he isn’t worth it.”

“Yeah… he isn’t.” You and Jamie followed after Yunho, sure not to lose him again this time.

You had never seen Yunho so angry before. You’ve never seen him snap like that much less hurt anyone in the process. Especially someone he once called a friend. He simply just exploded. Your mind was beginning to run with everything you had heard about Yunho up until this point; trying to comb over every moment you spent together to see if you missed something—anything— that could make his impulsive aggression make sense.

There’s a lot of things about me you don’t know.

Believe me when I say: he’s not the guy you think he is.

Did you really miss something? You shook the thought from your mind and continued to chase after him, following his figure as he made his way outside. Jamie called after him, but he didn't stop. His current state was earning him some terrified sideways glances from passersby who were curiously heading inside to see what all the racket was. Yunho had not stopped his trek until he reached the valet who rushed off as soon as he came.

Yunho was pacing back and forth in the still night. The heels of his shoes clicked across the stony pathway as his hands rubbed across his face. You could see now the red marks that were on his knuckles. Some were minorly scraped, but most of them had dark wounds on them. If they would have undergone any more damage, they would have started bleeding even worse. You were happy that you stepped in when you did.

“Are you okay?” You said in a soft whisper as if you were afraid of awakening a beast of some kind.

“I’m fine..” His voice was almost as soft as yours, but without emotion.

“M-Maybe we should go to a hospital or something. Those cuts can get infected.” Jamie suggested.

You nodded your head in agreement. “Yeah. Yeah. Maybe that’s best. Are you sure you're-”

“I said I’m fine.” He snapped. You and Jamie instinctively took a step back. He had never raised his voice at either of you and you could tell that he instantly regretted it, but the anger was still there so he didn't think to apologize for any of it.

“This is my fault.” You spoke up, putting your face in your hands as you plopped down on the steps of the hall. “This wasn't supposed to happen. I’m so stupid.”

Jamie went to comfort you, rubbing her hands across your backside.

“I wasn’t supposed to find out, you mean?” Yunho interjected, his words accusatory.

Lifting your head from your palms you looked at him. He had stopped pacing around now, only stood gawking at you. He looked extremely disappointed, hurt, angry. At you. At San. Probably the world. You deflated on the steps.

“No.. that’s not what I-”

“Do you still love him?” He asked suddenly.

“No!” You said defensively. “No. Of course not.”

“So, you just had sex with him for old times’ sake? Jesus..” He rubbed his hand across his forehead. You sank further.

“Yunho, calm down.” Jamie said. “Let's just hear her out.”

“I’m not hearing anything worth listening to.” Yunho scoffed in disbelief at their current circumstance. “I can't believe this..”

“We just ran into each other while I was looking for you! Everything happened so fast, I wasn't thinking. We were talking, and things got heated, and-” You slowed yourself, trying to gather the right words. “and it happened. I wanted to tell you myself, but I didn't think he would blow up like that after I-”

“After you what?”

Yunho and Jamie had given you their full attention. They were looking at you expectantly, waiting on the next part of your story. Something that would be the final puzzle piece to the mystery of how this whole thing started in the first place. Your eyes found Yunho’s; wet with your tears. You tried to blink them away, but they stung as they fell down your cheeks. You licked them off with your tongue, tasting the saltiness of them.

“After we were done talking… I told him about us.” You said, your voice cracking under the weight. “I told him that I didn’t love him. I couldn't.” Your eyes dropped from Yunho’s, looking into your lap while you toyed with the fabric of your dress. “Because I’m in love with you.”

Both Yunho and Jamie looked at you, eyes wide. Yunho appeared like he was going to speak, but was stopped by the valet who pulled up in his vehicle. The man walked around the car and hesitantly handed the keys to Yunho and stepped away back to his post. Yunho fuddled with the keys in his grasp and tossed them over to Jamie who fumbled them for a moment, but righted herself.

“Why are you giving these to me?” She tilted her head to the side like a bewildered puppy.

“I need to clear my head. You two can head to the house. I’ll pick the car up later.” His tone was more commanding than anything. He started to walk away and you stood to your feet.

“Yunho, come on! We can just talk about this at home.” You pleaded, sounding more desperate than you wanted to, knowing that his leaving was your fault.

“We’ll talk later. Maybe.”

He walked without another word around the line of cars that wrapped around the building. The darkness engulfed his figure until he was completely out of sight. You felt a pain form in your chest; having to catch yourself to breathe through the discomfort. The feeling you felt was similar to someone snatching a stool out from underneath your feet when it was all you had to keep you balanced. A sound louder than tearing metal as you heard your heart shatter into pieces—the same heart that he had helped you mend, had also been destroyed by him. If it weren’t for Jamie who held onto you dutifully, you would have collapsed right there in the dirt. Physically and emotionally exhausted from the night.

Jamie softly touched your arm and motioned for the car. “He’ll be okay, let’s go home.”

The car ride was silent for the most part other than the late night radio that played at a considerably low volume. Your head rested on your arm whilst you stared out the passengers’ side window, letting the wind from outside brush against the dry tear stains on your cheeks. The buildings you drove by whipped past, their shapes melting into one another. Their lights were only blinding for a moment, but it was better than staring down at your phone and hoping that you would get a message from Yunho.

Occasionally, Jamie would peer over to look at you. Maybe afraid that you would take your previous jokes of jumping out of the car in the middle of the freeway more seriously this time. Though, it wasn't something you hadn’t considered. There was so much that you wanted to say to Jamie, but you didn’t know where to start. You knew she was curious, but she didn’t press you for information even against her better judgment.

“Hey.” She started. “About… what happened back there? I hope you don’t blame yourself for all of that. You can’t control people’s actions ya’ know.”

“It was my fault anyway. I provoked San. I… slept with him. What happened between them is because of me.” You admitted, your gut wrenching at the words.

“You didn’t know he would try and pick a fight with him though. Plus, he was drunk. I don’t even think he’ll remember any of it. Well, with the way Yunho left him, maybe he will in the morning.” Jamie sighed, stopping briefly at a red light. “Look, I don’t know how you feel right now in great detail and maybe I’ll never get it, but don’t let this bury you. I’m sad that you felt like you couldn’t come to me with this— believe me I’m shocked, but not as shocked as you think. I just wouldn’t have figured that everything with you and Yunho had gotten as far as it had. I knew he liked you from before San, but-“

You perked up. Turning around to face Jamie in your seat. “He what?”

“He didn’t tell you? Whoops..” Jamie gritted her teeth and inhaled sharply. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Well, you kind of already did! He liked me before San?” You prodded for more information.

“Look, hey! I don’t know all the details, but I was friends with Yunho before you, so naturally we told each other everything. Then, when you came along, he didn’t say much, but he told me he liked you. A LOT. Then when you met everyone else, including San, well… the rest was history.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” You blurted.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were having sex with him?!” Jamie bit back.

You slinked back into your seat. “Fair point. I’m sorry about all of this Jamie. I really wanted to tell you everything from the beginning. It was just so much to unpack, I didn’t know what to say.”

Jamie let out a soft breath through her nose, gearing up the car again as the light changed to green and continued driving down the street.

“I’m not mad at you. More left out, I guess. Trust me, I don’t need to know that two of my best friends were bumping uglies and how or where, but a little heads up would have sufficed.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry…” You reached your hand out towards Jamie’s hand and grabbed ahold of it. “You’re my best friend. You always have my back, and I’m grateful for you.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m not going anywhere. So, what are you going to do about Yunho?”

“I don’t know. I feel like he hates me now.”

“He could never hate you. Maybe he just needs time for now. Don’t give up on him, that boy can’t live without you.”

You nodded and turned to look out the window. “Yeah..I hope so.”

계속하다

Two months later…

Work was just as tedious as always. The boss was getting on your nerves about some paperwork you had already filed a month ago, but he never bothered to check and probably lost it. It was getting late now, you and a few of your other co-workers had been the last stragglers and all you wanted to do was finish up the work you needed so that you could get home. You and Jamie had planned to meet up for dinner at a local tteokbokki spot that you had yet to try, but she was still stuck in Jinju for business. So, you decided to pick up some extra hours at work as well.

You clicked away on your keyboard; unmotivated and robotic in your approach to the case file you were working on. You took steady sips of your energy drink, which was probably a bad idea in the grand scope of things but that was how you got things done nowadays. You barely slept ever since that night, and you couldn’t work well otherwise so you depended on energy shots and caffeine to keep you alert.

Your phone chimed suddenly and you almost knocked over your tumbler cup trying to retrieve it. You scrambled for stability, dropping your head as a relieved, but anxious sigh exited your mouth. Righting the cup, you hurriedly checked your phone only to see a message from some clothing company you shopped at before text you about a new sale. Disappointed, you went to your other message threads, scrolling to his name, which wasn’t far down. Tapping on it, you saw all of the messages you had sent him over the last two months since that night, but there was never an answer. Some of the messages in the beginning were paragraphs, some short and some long. You apologized to him over and over wanting to explain everything. Some were you lashing out in frustration over the fact that he wouldn’t answer you or give you the time of day. The lengths of your text to him dwindled over time. You messaged him about festivals in the area, movies that were coming out soon, or video games you think he would be interested in. You sent texts wishing him well. Texts asking how he was. Still nothing.

Jamie tried to keep you hopeful, telling you that he was just busy traveling or work got in the way, but you knew the truth: he was done with you. Your last message to him was a week ago.

I’m really sorry for everything, Yunho. I wish I could take it back, but I can’t. I want to fix it. I miss you, but if you don’t feel the same then…I don’t blame you. I’m sorry again, but I don’t think I can go without you anymore. I guess this is goodbye.

Just reading it again felt like someone was using your heart as target practice and you quickly swiped out of the message. You didn’t expect him to forgive you for what happened, at least not right away. But you had not expected complete radio silence either. The way you two had left things wasn’t ideal, and you desperately wanted to fix them with him, but he just wouldn’t let you. Like you said before, you couldn’t blame him for the way things were now. You just wished they were different.

You finished up the last of your work and printed everything out, stuffing it in a manila folder and depositing it in the mailbox on your boss's door for him to check in the morning. You gathered your things and tidied up your workspace. You could do your timesheet later when you were home, you just wanted to get out of here. Saying your goodbyes to your coworkers, you stepped out of the office and took the elevator down to the base floor.

The security guard was mainly the only one in the area, watching over the front desk. The two of you said your goodbyes as well as you stepped out into the night air of Seoul. There was a small trickle of rain, but you weren’t bothered by it too much. You jogged to the end of the street corner and raised your hand for an oncoming taxi to take you home. Once he stopped for you, you climbed inside and let him drive off, telling him your desired destination.

You followed your new set routine with Jamie and let her know that you were leaving work and heading home. Since you two were primarily separated these days for work, it was a good update strategy. She answered within minutes.

제이미

Be safe. Wont be home until tomorrow! Know you didn’t eat anything so I ordered you food. Should be outside by the time you get there. enjoyyyyy ♡

You smiled down at your phone and thanked her. You don’t know what you would do without Jamie. She was probably your only constant in this ever changing world and you loved her for it.

The ride lasted another fifteen minutes and you were outside of your apartment building. You slid the driver cash and thanked him before getting out of the car. The rain was starting to pick up, so you placed your bag over your head and ran to the entryway. You punched in your apartment code and the door buzzed, granting you entry into the nicely decorated and warm foyer. There was a large front desk where two people sat watching monitors. A single overhead chandelier illuminated the space around you in a bright orange, and there was a white carpet that stopped just halfway info the center of the room. The ones at the front desk greeted you kindly as you passed, slightly damp from the oncoming storm, walking further into the building where the first four sets of elevators were for your wing. You pressed the button to go up to the tenth floor and waited as the elevator came down from its last stop. When the machine chimed, the doors opened and a few people stepped off leaving you to enter the elevator alone, which you didn’t mind.

You just had another large space to yourself. The elevator rose higher and higher and you watched each floor change one after another. Finally, the tenth floor came and you skipped off of it. You walked down the hall, spotting your door, which was just in the center. The stairwell was not far from it, and you were reminded that you should start using the stairs more often. There was also a man leaning over the railing, jet black hair blinding you from his face. He had on a dark coat and rings, and looked like he was in deep thought, letting his thumb toy with his body lip. You didn’t really pay him any mind, but you didn’t recognize him either. Probably just another tenant. You came to stop at your door where a bag of food was laid at the foot of the wood. You bent over to pick it up and punched in the alarm lock pin. The door’s mechanism whirred and disjointed. You pushed down the handle to enter and stopped at the sound of your name. Startled, you whipped around. The man had turned around to face you, an anxious glance in his eyes. Your irises adjusted on his face for a moment and your heart dropped into the pits of your stomach.

“Yunho?” You almost had not recognized him without his blonde hair. It threw you for a moment, but more so that he was at your front door. “I didn’t know it was you, you look different.”

“In the flesh..” He straightened himself and cleared his throat, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Can we talk?”

Irritation grew in you. “Now you want to talk to me?” You spoke roughly. You didn’t mean to give him an attitude, but a part of you wasn’t sorry for it. He had ghosted you for two months and now he wanted to talk about that night?

“Please.” He said. It sounded more like he was commanding you, than requesting you even in that soft voice of his.

You stared at him and sighed, defeated. You couldn’t be upset at him, no matter how angry you were deep down. You turned and opened the door, setting your things down on the table in the hall and motioned him to step in. He did so without hesitation, walking slowly into the apartment like he hadn’t been here a thousand times over. The both of you kicked off your shoes and you closed the door behind him, letting the air thicken with the sudden tension. It was so thick that it was almost impenetrable. You felt uncomfortable walking around your own home.

You offered him something to drink, but he declined. He instead took off his thick coat, revealing a black short sleeve shirt with some design on it that you could not fully make out. A gold chain was hidden behind the collar that went up to his neck and now glimmered in the light overhead. You walked over to the kitchen island and leaned against it, Yunho sat on the back of the couch, rather uncomfortably due to his long legs, but stayed there anyway.

“I’m sorry for popping up unannounced. I should have told you, but..” He folded his arms. “I had just come off a flight, and it would have been rude if I didn’t answer everything else you sent.”

So, he did see them.

“You ignored everything else anyway. It wouldn’t have made much of a difference.”

Yunho nodded. “I deserved that.”

“So you’ve been traveling this whole time?” You asked, slightly unconvinced.

Yunho shrugged. “Not the whole time, but for most of it. I was in the US for work.”

“I see.”

“Look, it may not mean much now, but I’m sorry. I just didn’t know what to say to you after everything that happened. I really tried to, but I couldn’t express what I was feeling well enough. I’ve never been good at that stuff. I read everything. Even the last one. It took a lot for me to come see you to say this, but I’m not here to hear you apologize anymore. I’m here to apologize.”

You listened to him, swallowing the thick clump of saliva that was stuck in your throat. “Why now?”

“Because it was wrong of me to leave how I did, twice.” Yunho said. “I tried to forget about you. I was so upset and confused by everything then, and what you said to me only confused me more. I didn’t know what to think. As time went on, I realized that I wasn’t even upset that you and San… you know. I mean I was, for a while, but the more I thought about it, it wasn’t just that. It was because I thought I lost you to him, again.”

“Lost me to him?” You stopped yourself to think. The conversation you had with Jamie in the car coming back to you in waves. “Because you wanted me before he did.”

Yunho’s eyes flickered up to you. “How did you know that? It was Jamie, wasn’t it?”

You nodded. Yunho laughed and shook his head. “Yeah. I wanted to ask you out. He knew it, but he swooped in. The rest well, you know. I have always hated that son of a bitch since then, but for the sake of the friendship, I buried it and the feelings I had for you.”

“So, did you plan to sleep with me that night as some kind of revenge or something?”

“No. Same reason you slept with him: it just happened like that.” Yunho said confidently. It was a dig for sure and you felt it, but he wasn’t wrong.

“I deserved that.” You stared down at the ground, admitting your wrong in the situation.

“I hate to say that I read your last message a little too late. I should have just taken some time and gathered my thoughts and talked to you, but I was being childish, selfish. I didn’t consider how you felt at that time. And I’m really sorry.” Yunho moved off of the couch and started making a beat towards you, slowly. “But I don’t agree with what you said.”

Your eyes returned to his. “What?”

“You said you think this is goodbye. It’s not.” Yunho was only a few steps away from you now. You tried to mesh yourself with the kitchen island. “It can’t be because we’re not saying goodbye.”

Yunho was looming over you now. His size alone was intimidating. The way he gazed down at you through the strands of his dark hair was enough to send a tingle down your back. You had to completely look upwards in order to see him.

“Maybe we should.” You didn’t even believe that, but with everything that had happened between you. Maybe San was right. Maybe you didn’t know him as well as you thought. Maybe you didn’t love him. Maybe he didn’t love you. “We don’t need anything complicated anymore .”

“I don’t want anything complicated. I want you.” Yunho placed both of his hands on either side of your body, locking you in the center of the counter. Past images flashed in your head. His scent. That same familiar scent wafting against you. Those eyes that stared daggers into your soul. The way his lips felt against yours. The way his hands caressed over your body like they were searching for something important. “I want to hold you when I want to. Kiss you. Touch you. I don’t want to sneak around with you anymore. I don’t care about anything that happened before. I just want you.”

You shut your eyes for a long moment as he pulled you into him with his words alone. He was so close to you that you were almost afraid to breathe, scared that if it took you too long to think that it could be the very end of this moment entirely. You didn’t want it to end. You wanted Yunho— you wanted to be with him.

“What if I’m not right for you?” You muttered.

“You’re perfect.” Yunho rested his forehead against yours and spoke softly as if he were pleading with you. “I need you, baby. Forgive me.”

You felt yourself unravelin his hands. Your convictions held no weight against the feelings that were churning inside of you again just from being in close proximity with him. The days and weeks without being with Yunho had blended together in a messy, and misconstrued mixture that you had lost track of time. Four years ago, San had stopped the clock on your existence, but Yunho had made time move again. You felt alive with him. Your heart pumped with enthusiasm and longed for your next meeting. Your hand reached towards his face that was now free from the cuts and bruises that you remembered. You ran your thumb over the spot just below his eye, feeling the tenderness of his skin. Traveling down to his lip, remembering where the thin cut was.

“I forgive you..” You whispered back to him.

Yunho did not want to waste more time and neither did you as he took the opportunity to erase the small gap between you. Especially with his wing span, he had no problem scooping you into his arms and crashing into your lips. Your feet had left the ground in a moment’s notice, and you were clinging to him for dear life with your legs flung haphazardly around his small waist. But with his hands gripping onto your ass, you felt stable enough to continue. His lips were exactly how you remembered them. Sweet and soft, fluffier than before, but that fiery passion was the same. Though the kiss was deep and filled with longing, it was only obvious the hunger that underlined every blissful embrace. Yunho carried you off somewhere away from the counter, but you were unaware of where he was headed considering you were handling other matters.

For a moment, your back collided gently with a wall. Yunho pinned you against it, while your fingers entangled themselves in his hair. His tongue pressed against your lips, asking for entrance before you parted them, letting his snake-like appendage traverse the depths of your mouth. You delightfully sucked on his tongue, The sloppy, wet kiss deepening with each go. You mewled approvingly and then suddenly you were on the move again. Yunho kept you steady against him as he pushed through one of the two bedroom doors in the apartment, hoping that yours was the right one.

“God, I want you so bad.” You cooed breathlessly, breaking the kiss for just a moment.

“Don’t worry baby, you’ll have me real soon.” His words were smooth, and you felt a twinge between your thighs.

Yunho walked a few more steps into the bedroom. Yunho tossed you on the bed and you laughed slightly as your body bounced from the impact. He was on top of you again in seconds, caging you inside his arms yet again; his fingers digging into the fabric of your linens. His lips collided with yours again, every peck more calculated than the last. One of Yunho’s hands cupped your face, before sliding from your cheek down to your jaw and clasping around it, holding you still while his tongue dived deeper into your mouth. He had a naturally gentle nature, but he could also be controlling when it came to the bedroom and you loved it. He gave you enough power and control for him to instantly take back when it suited him. With his lower half laying flush in between your thighs, he ground himself into you slightly. You moaned quietly against his lips, feeling the stretch of his jeans pressing against your folds. The friction sent waves of sensations through you and you could feel moisture trickling beneath the layers of your clothing.

Your hands scavenged across his body; feeling his biceps, his broad shoulders, the wideness of his back contrasting with his regularly slim build. You fisted his shirt, pulling the fabric free from it being tucked inside of his jeans, feeling the light pop in your palms once it was free. Yunho broke the kiss for a moment, still straddling you beneath him and sat up into the air, removing the bothersome piece of clothing from his body and tossing it away. The true length of him was free. His abs like ripples against the original build of his skin and you couldn’t help, but touch them. Licking against your own lips like you had come across a new meal to divulge in. The only thing that remained were his pants and that singular chain that laid lifeless against his collarbone. Yunho stared down at you the whole time, keeping your attention focused on him.

“This has to come off too,” he commanded, nodding towards your work shirt. You looked down and watched as Yunho fit a single finger into your shirt and popped every last button like it was nothing. Your chest now exposed to the cool breeze, revealing your black bralette. A sigh escaped Yunho’s lips. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

The tip of his fingers grazed against your neck, running down just where the dip of your collarbone met the lining of your breasts. Your skin bristled at his touch. His hand opened and clasped around your throat; thumb digging into your skin just a bit with the applied pressure on your jugular. He pulled you up to him, even though you were a quarter of his height sitting down, and he kissed you again. You shook yourself out of your long sleeved shirt and tossed it aside as Yunho had, not sure where it landed in the room, but you didn’t care. The hand around your throat unlatched suddenly, almost hesitant, and it was already sliding into your hair, grabbing a handful and pulling. You whined out to him, but he didn’t care. It felt good to you, like a juxtaposition to the sweetness of the kiss, and you wanted it to stay there, just a little while longer. You wanted to stay here with him forever.

The next thing you knew, you were undoing the clasp in his pants. Fiddling with the belt strap until you felt some give. It had been so long since you felt him—you wanted to have him devour you from the inside out, digging so deeply inside of you that he may strike gold. To call his name like he was too far away to hear, for him to claim you like you were his. You wanted him. You needed him.

You kissed him harder, erasing the softness from before, but dousing your kiss in hunger and desperation. Through frustrated grunts, and Yunho’s help, you managed to undo the latch on his pants, tugging them off of him. Yunho kicked them off haphazardly, keeping his focus 100% on you.

He grinned between kisses. “You’re so desperate for me to fuck you, aren’t you?”

There was a throbbing between your legs as he said this. A beat that was calling out to him, and you were aching more and more. You nodded, looking up at him pitifully.

He pushed you back against the bed, the look in his eye darker than before. Your breath hitched in your throat as he crawled back on top of you. You searched his face wildly, wondering what he was going to do next.

“Did you miss me?” He asked you softly. His hand copied the same motion as before, caressing your face first, then your neck, your chest, rubbing circles around your breast before he came to your stomach. You winced slightly, not from pain, but a slick ticklish feeling— your stomach caving under his touch.

“I missed you everyday.” You responded.

Yunho seemed to like that answer because a large smile tugged at his lips. He looked down to follow his hand making sure it was going in the right direction then back at you. His slender fingers fit right between the space in your pants and your groins, running over the mound that was concealed to him. You shifted in his grasp and sighed softly. The pad of his finger came in contact with your clit and you jolted slightly, sliding down to feel the wetness ruining your panties. He rubbed there for a while, watching you squirm and writhe beneath him.

“I can tell. You’re already soaking and I barely even touched you yet. You were always such a pretty little whore for me.” Yunho pulled his hand out and brought them up to his lips, tasting your secretions and groaning in approval of the flavor. “You taste so good, baby.”

The sight must have reached something deep in the pit of your stomach because you were even more turned on than before. You wanted him to take you right there. Not feeling embarrassed to show how much you wanted him to fuck you. For Yunho, however, that fact was obscenely obvious.

“Please Yunho,” you begged. “I can’t take it anymore.”

Yunho chuckled at your pleas, readjusting himself at the foot of the bed now. “I guess I spoiled you too much before.” He reached down and dug his fingers on the inside of your work pants and tugged you towards him, you yelped as you slid against the framing of the bed, your pants loosening from around your waist and exposing your panties. “You’re such a brat when you’re horny.”

He swiveled your pants off of you completely, raising your hips so that it could help him more. He stared down at you, looking at the wet spot in your panties and the fragility of your body. His tongue swiped across his bottom lip and he smiled, dastardly. Like he was thinking of something. You on the other hand were growing slightly impatient. Your inner walls were pulsating like crazy. Your mind was whirring with all the possible ways that he could fuck you and how horribly you wanted him go do so. The feelings you felt were agony, and you knew he felt them too with the hard-on forming beneath his boxers. You watched now as he rubbed himself dutifully, caressing his size beneath the fabric; you felt a moan coming just from watching him. You went to touch yourself as well, but Yunho smacked your hand away.

“Not so fast princess. You only touch yourself when I say so.” He almost seemed like he was going to bite you the way he spoke so roughly. It did not deter you, but you could see he was irritated. It made you want to press him further.

“So, why don’t you touch me?” You asked in a coy voice.

“Punishment. I may not be mad at you, but it’s the least you deserve for now.” He said, finding the smile in his words again.

“You’re cruel.”

Yunho shrugged. “It’s the way the world works. Since you want to touch what belongs to me so badly, go ahead, but when I say stop. I mean it.”

Your eyes sparkled. Watching Yunho as he freed himself from his boxers, never taking his eyes off of you, who followed the bounce in his girth. It had been so long since you saw his mass, you wondered if he had grown. He looked bigger than before. Your cunt pulsed again. You spread your legs and slithered your hand down to your panties and pulled the moistened fabric aside, letting it crumple between your inner thigh. You ran your hand down the center folds, watching Yunho intently. He was completely in a trance watching you fondle yourself. You played with your clit, circling your fingers around it and moaning softly. Yunho ran his hand along his shaft, pumping himself, eyes locked on your body. You imagined his hand there touching you again, your juices pouring out from you and onto the bed sheets; overflowing like a running sink.

“Shit..” he mumbled under his breath. “Keep touching yourself like that. You look so sexy..”

Per his command you continued, sliding your fingers inside of yourself now and listening to the squelch of your insides. Another hand played with your breasts, grabbing and circling around each of them, giving Yunho a full show, which he seemed to utterly enjoy more than he thought. The two of you stayed like that for a while. The sensation was too good, you thought you would make yourself cum right there in front of him. You shut your eyes for a second and moaned out to the sky, calling for whatever powers there may be, but a hand stopped you from going forward, stealing your pleasure from you.

“You’re such a good girl.” Yunho said in an exasperated voice, “Now it’s my turn to make you feel good.”

He grabbed one of your legs and pushed it back towards your shoulders as he laid himself into you. You only had a brief moment to adjust as you felt Yunho rub his thick member between your bottom lips, and he watched your face as he did so. He knew you were still sensitive from how you touched yourself just a few moments before and was using that to his advantage. He knows your body too well. He knew what made you tick and that’s what made him dangerous when he was in control. He smacked his girth against your wetness a few times before slipping into you without resistance.

“Oh my god,” Your brow furrowed. Eyes rolling towards the ceiling as the pressure inside of you built up all over again.

The moan you pushed out was loud. Too loud. You thought about the fragility of the walls around your apartment, knowing they weren’t thick enough to contain your passion. You absentmindedly apologized to them, but Yunho didn’t seem to care nor had he ever. He continued pushing himself deeply inside of you, grunting and trying to hold back his own moans. You gripped onto Yunho’s arm that was locked by your head, your nails scraping across his skin.

“Fuck, you feel even better around me than I remember.” He spoke, his voice more scratchy and gravely now.

Then he started to move. His strokes were fluid, but monstrous. Like he was doing push ups inside of you, but letting his pelvis do most of the work. His arms held him upright, bulging as he came down inside of you, plus with him holding the weight of one of your legs on his shoulder as well, he was not sparing a single motion to ensure you felt everything.

“Yun-ah..” you tried to call his name but it fell short with the moans falling through your lips.

“Look at me.” He growled, grabbing your jaw like he had earlier and forcing your gaze to him while he fucked you. “My pretty girl.”

Your eyes were locked on his, but would occasionally be distracted by the gold chain that was bouncing in your face as well. It was hypnotizing, but liberating in the sense that this was your reward for all of your efforts being good for him.

“You feel so good… fuck.” You pleaded, wrapping your other leg around his waist to deepen his strokes.

“Yeah? You miss me fucking you like this?” He asked.

You nodded weakly.

“Use your words baby.” He said with a sly grin, moving his hand from your jaw to your throat and squeezed. “Speak.”

The grip he had on you made you lightheaded. You couldn’t think properly with the way he was fucking you, more less form an intelligible sentence. Suddenly, a small but searing pain rose in your cheek as you glanced back at Yunho who had slightly popped your cheek, forcing you to pay attention to him again.

“Don’t make me repeat myself baby. Talk to me.” He said.

“I missed feeling you inside of me. I feel good with you in me.” You managed to speak through half breaths.

Yunho continued to work his magic, digging himself deeper and deeper inside of you to get you worked up. Your pussy gripped and released him, trying to keep up with his pace; gushing with the juices that he fucked out of you. Your body responded to him so well as if he was the one controlling it. He swiveled his hips and kept his strokes in a wave like motion, whilst he pounded into you, sending bursts of his aggression through your needy cunt and out through your mouth in the form of guttural moans. You held him close, clawing at his back muscles with your nails. Yunho grunted from the pain, but took it anyway. Fucking you harder than before.

Your stomach pulled. You were almost at your limit. The room was filled with the raunchy sounds of your sex, sounding like music to your ears, but probably like a fight to others. Yunho was relentless, pumping into you everything he had without mercy.

“You take me so well, like a good fucking girl.” He huffed, slamming into you forcefully. The jolts could have sent you slamming into the mattress, but they felt good.

Yunho hissed as his pace was beginning to falter. He gritted his teeth and dropped his head on the side of yours, rutting himself into you. You held him still, fingering his hair to calm him as the two of you belched your moans. His skin felt damp to the touch, but so did yours. The heat clung to your bodies from the overexertion. He was starting to sound more desperate. You were hanging on a thread of insanity. Feeling like you were going to burst at any second.

“Yunho, I’m close..” You murmured.

“Hold it, baby..” He struggled to say. “I want us to cum together.”

You nodded, trying to force the feeling down for just a little more. You didn’t want it to end, but you weren’t sure how much more you could take either, which wasn’t much at all. Yunho rolled his hips against you, sliding in out of your bundle with ease. His pace quickened for a moment and you jumped as he cursed out in your ear.

“Fuck!” He bellowed through nashed teeth. He pumped himself a few more times. “I’m about to cum. Cum with me.”

You did not hesitate to listen this time. With unleveled and shaky breaths, your eyes roll closed and you ride out the rest of his orgasm on his dick. The two of you rocking back and forth until you finally burst. You climax on him, and Yunho fills you to the brim with his cum. His groans were muffled as he hid himself in your neck, gnawing at the flesh there like it was something to hold onto. You could feel him flowing into you, covering your insides with his seed. You tried to catch your breath, letting your juices intermingle with the others. You breathed heavily together. Yunho’s back rose and fell in a broken rhythm for a moment before righting itself. He placed a kiss on your neck and sat up, still hovering over you. Your head fell back from the exhaustion.

Yunho brushed your hair from your face and looked down at you with a tired smile. There was a new found glimmer in his eye, and it sparkled much more than the chain around his neck in the light. He said nothing, only stared at you like there was nothing else in the room.

“What?” You asked softly.

He shook his head, softly caressing your hair and face before he spoke. “I love you.”

Your heart skipped a beat for a second. The two of you exchanged glances and a large, and loving smile was shared between you both. For the first time since you heard those words being said, your heart felt free. No longer locked in the cage you had put it in so long ago as you finally and confidently could mutter those same words back to someone else.

“I love you too, Yunho.”

“I think we should name our kid Oli.” He said suddenly.

You rolled your eyes and groaned, hitting him in his shoulder.

“Ow what?! I’m just saying.”

“You’re so unserious.”

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shuckinbeanz · 1 year

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Ten Years-Warmth

warnings/notes: pls lmk in comments asks or dms if I'm missing any tws I'm lost on how to appropriately tw this and have no idea if it needs any but I can't shake the feeling it doesss? 😭 (I can't help but think OOC, definitely OOC)soft tristamp!Millions Knivesxhuman reader cuz that cloak tho 🥴🥺 if you seen him you probably already know what he is, so spoilers ahoy! we've proved time and time again he can trust us, but he's so very hesitant to let down his guard because he's afraid he'll break again 😭 as that barrier breaks, we find he's super touch starved despite his initial hesitance. Slow n steady wins the race! Told in his POV, brave bb inchin out of his comfort zone for us cuz he trusts us sm 🥺

after lots of debate I've decided to post this in parts bc i wanna feed sideblog dwellers too!

MINORS 👏 DNI! 👏 AGE 👏 IN 👏 BIO 👏 OR 👏 DNI! 👏 Head on over to @candybowbeansies please for my SFW pieces, or be blocked if you interact here! 😇

Tags: @dynamightsdaydream

For ten long years, you were there for him. You never looked away, you always forced yourself past the inconsequential, so-called limits of your lowly species. For him. And somewhere along, the insignificant you turned into something dear. You probably don't know this, but…he so desperately wanted to reciprocate. His heart and his brain warred with each other and his body.

It was very confusing, and even more complicated.

You were the only other human…he was willing to love. It was painstakingly slow but sure, and eventually, your fastidious efforts bore fruit.

Touch.

As revolting as the idea alone was, the moment he allowed your knuckle to graze against his jaw in a featherlight touch…it was equally, if not more so intoxicating.

It was also uncomfortable.

But he knew, if he showed that to you, you'd rear away in self resentment; hiding your desire to be touched, and more importantly, touch him beneath lock and key, out of your loyalty for him.

Yet he wanted more.

The look of pure awe in your eyes, as soft words pass your softer lips; of praise, worship, and limitless gratitude. He almost wanted to kiss them. Almost. Your other hand clutched desperately at the material you wore, evidence of your self restraint for his sake, your respect for his boundaries.

His gaze-somewhat judging-gives rise to your answer. "I want to touch you. I want to caress your cheek." you start, and he humors you with a raised brow. "Are you not doing that, already?" he mentions your knuckle, featherlight and sickeningly gentle against his jaw. You giggle, then. A sweet melody that makes his heart thrum in kind. "I want to run my fingers through your hair. I want to trace your ears, massage your broad shoulders…" you trail off, becoming shy at your own desires. "And…your strong arms…"

Even though his innate paranoia he built up over the years incessantly nagged at the edges of his consciousness; of losing, of being broken, of breaking anything precious to him…it did sound very tempting.

He doesn’t notice he’s moving, until his hand has found your wrist. You blink owlishly as he guides you, a rushed ‘Are you sure?’ spilling forth from you, worry evident in your tone and your tense form. For a brief moment, before your palm touches his cheek under his coaxing grip, he isn’t sure. But the moment it does, his body and his heart betray his brain as he leans into your warm palm and purrs.

Warmth.

The very thing he forsook to chase his ideals. Something that, for years, he'd sorely missed, prolonged stubborn abstinence numbing the craving. It hits him like a sandsteamer on overdrive.

It was a disgusting feeling, if he were to be honest, stemming from the fear of loss. If he accepted this touch, mindful of his being, only to lose it-to lose you, in the end, he'd break.

He'd break far, far beyond repair, everything you've worked so hard to mend torn right off like a bandaid, never to heal again.

He didn't want that.

Yet here he was, leaning into your touch and craving more. He yearned for it, down to his very vulnerable core, which threatened to hum to life in a very visible, vibrant hue just beneath his skin-quite literally.

It was rather humiliating for him, for every fiber of his being to be so easily highly reactive to you. He both hated it and loved it at the same, very confusing time.

He was still in denial that someone as great as him was so touch starved. But before he knew it, he'd dived right into your embrace, his weight sending you onto your back.

He let you experiment; your fingers just barely touching him, ready to move away at a moment's notice. He appreciated this, deeply-though he'd rather die than admit it.

Little by little, he'd slip out of his comfort zone, only for you. It will take time…but you are ever patient.

Slowly, his tension began to melt away, just as you bravely began on his hair, with touch still so careful.

He respected you. You've always done everything you could, solely for him.

Soon enough, it's too late; the unusual beckon of sleep tugs at his eyelids.

Maybe he likes you. Maybe…he's in love. But everything was still so confusing and so very complicated. So wait for him, just a little longer, and hopefully he can find the courage to accept it all.

#trigun stampede #millions knives #millions knives x reader #millions knives x you #trigun stampede millions knives x reader #knives x reader

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raphaelslittlemouse · 5 months

Text

Better the Devil You Know - Part 1

The Devil's In the Details

Part two here. Part three here. Part four here.

Minors DNI. ~780 words. Tav sneaks into the House of Hope to save a friend. Mild spoilers for act 3, tagged just in case. Raphael x Fem!Tav. No physical description given, could be read as a 3rd person Raph x Reader.

She’s got her hand on the contract when the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. His voice would chill her to the bone if it didn’t send shivers elsewhere instead.

“Now, now, little mouse. Why ever would you think you could sneak into my House of Hope without my knowing? And why ever would you think I would let you leave once you’ve snuck in?” Raphael rumbles in her ear, his breath hot on her neck.

She resigns herself to being caught, but refuses to acknowledge defeat. “Raphael, even you have to know this is wrong,” she says, turning and waving the scroll in his handsome face. “She’s a child. Mol is a child. I cannot let you do this to her.”

Raphael tilts his head, but he’s careful to keep his expression neutral, though she can tell he wants to smirk like the self righteous bastard he is. “I have contracts with lots of children, little mouse. What makes this one so special?”

“I…” She takes a deep breath, more to keep from smacking him in the face than to ground herself. “I’ve worked so hard…to save her. To keep her safe. I can’t let you have her. She has her whole life ahead of her, and I won’t let her owe it to you.”

“But she can owe it to you instead?” Raphael counters. “You mortals are all hypocrites, and yet you call my kind devils.”

“Mol owes me nothing. I have protected her because I want to. I just want her to be safe and happy.”

“Out of the goodness of your heart then? Continuing to play the hero when it causes you nothing but pain?”

“I just want to help people, Raphael. It’s what good people do.”

“And good things often never happen to good people. You should know that better than anyone. Which leads me to ask again: why?”

“Does it matter? You’re a businessman, Raphael. Let me make you a better offer.”

Raphael’s cool facade slips. His lips curl up in a smirk so devilish that she can’t decide if she wants to wipe it from his face with a kiss or her fist. This is what he wanted all along. She played into his hands. “Oh? Pray tell, what is this offer?”

“A bargain to end a bargain. Free Mol, immediately, with no harm coming to her, no loopholes, nothing. And I will make a bargain in her stead.”

His grin threatens to split his handsome face in two as he takes the contract from her, his fingers blazing hot on hers as he closes his grip on the scroll. She fights back her shiver of delight at the electric current that shoots through her when his fingers brush hers. But she can’t fight back the look of shock that overtakes her face as Raphael rips the contract in two. Without waiting to hear her bargain. “Done,” he murmurs. “Your wish is my command, little mouse. Tell me what your heart desires, and it’s yours. For a price, of course.”

It’s her turn to smirk. She thought she’d have to fight harder. “My heart desires the one thing that all my heroics have never gotten me.”

“And what is that? Riches? Fame? Immortality?” Raphael asks, ticking his suggestions away on his long fingers.

She shakes her head. “None of that. My bargain, my one true desire, Raphael, is love. Real and true, given freely from the one I love. Give me that, and my soul is yours without complaint, without a fight.”

She holds out her hand, waiting for him to take it, her gaze burning on him. She can’t help the gasp that escapes when his hand engulfs hers, bringing it to his lips to place an uncharacteristically sweet kiss on her knuckles. He snaps his fingers as he releases his grip on her, her contract appearing before her, a quill materializing in her hand.

“It would be my pleasure to uphold this bargain,” he says, that smirk back on his lips as she signs her name, signs her soul away. “I find myself more than slightly curious as to whom is so important, so good and true, to have caught the eye of the soon-to-be-named Greatest Hero The Realms Have Ever Known? That Astarion of yours? Karlach, seeing as you’re so fond of Tieflings?”

She shakes her head again, handing the contract and quill over to Raphael, her eyes never leaving his. “Isn’t it obvious, Raphael? It’s you.”

The look of shock as his jaw drops is worth more than all the gold and jewels in the Realms. Almost worth her soul. Almost.

#bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #raphael x reader #my writing #bg3 fic #I do have more written hence the 'part 1' but idk when the next parts will be posted or finished #I posted this initially on my ao3 HeadlessOverHeels

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tavyliasin · 3 months

Text

Urges Bared Before The Dawn - Abdirak x Gortash x gn!Durge One Shot

Enver Gortash has recently been meeting with Durge after many years apart, but they are struggling to find peace in their mind, to find any of the memories they shared beneath that. They're clearly still interested in him, but this isn't a problem that can be solved alone.

Durge recalls a priest of Loviatar, Abdirak, and how he helped them before - pain and punishment had brought about a sense of peace that they longed for, one that Enver knew in his heart should be possible by his hand alone. He agrees to pay the dark cleric for his services, and so the three find themselves in Gortash's chambers with an array of tools and a whole night to find a way through the shroud over Durge's memory. 6,341 Words

Click Here for AO3 Version Pairing: Gortash x Durge x Abdirak SPICE Rating: 5/5 Content Warnings and Tags: Power play, BDSM, Power Exchage, Blood, Wound Detail, Whipping, Chains, Bondage, Predicament Bondage, Sounding, Temperature Play (hot water, ice), Sensation Play, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Cockwarming (mild), Dom/sub, switching, biting

Spoilers Not a lot. Some reference to shared pasts and Gortash/Durge relationship dynamics Canon Compliance Loose at best. This is more interesting. Other Notes ...I made it sound nice in the summary, this is pure BDSM smut, mind those tags and don't be too surprised by the aftertaste of emotion~ And my Beta reader's assessment of that note there is that it's an accurate representation (though I may be downplaying the emotion a little)

(Youtube link click here) Song Pairing Killer Inside Of Me by Willyecho "Think you're a God Yeah but tonight Let's see if you bleed like one You call the shots, but that's all you got I'm gonna call your bluff 'Cause something happens when you fan the flames I'm like an animal inside a cage, but I'm gonna break out these chains You're gonna wish you never held me down I feel it rush through my veins Yeah, this adrenaline has kicked in now There's a killer inside of me"

Full One Shot below the cut! --- ---

Urges Bared Before The Dawn

Abdirak looked on with approval at the chains holding the pale Dragonborn. They were facing the wall, arms held above them, ankles spread apart, even their tail bound off to the side. To his side, Gortash huffed impatiently.

“Why are we hesitating? This is exactly what they requested. I am well aware of what they desire, isn’t that right my dear?” The self-proclaimed Archduke stepped forwards, running the sharp edge of a golden claw down Durge’s spine, smiling at the growl that rumbled forth through their throat.

“Yes,” they agreed, “yet also no .”

“What do you mean no ? We have danced to this tune a hundred times or more by my memory, even if yours has decided to vacate that pretty little head - why change the steps now?” The metal bit deeper, staining pale scales red.

Abdirak pulled the man back, a low warning. “You would do well to listen, should you care for the mind within that body. Pain without purpose…” He shook his head. “The agreement was for you to learn, and if you cannot do that you will bear your own penance tenfold.”

“Fine, Priest. What would you have me do?” Gortash snarled, yet still stepping aside.

“First, you watch.” He moved closer to the Dragonborn again, pressing a single pale finger against the cut that the gauntlet had left.

Durge moaned, pressing their body against the cold stone of the wall.

“What is it you wish for, dear one? The whip? The cane? Perhaps the flat of a heated blade?” He added more pressure, deepening the cut and adding a bruise beneath.

“I trust your judgement.” Their reply was coloured by another pleased sound echoing deep in their throat, savouring the pain until it was withdrawn.

“Very well.” Abdirak turned away picking over a table of tools to select what was best. “These should do nicely.” He handed one of the identical flails to Gortash, observing how the man took a moment to inspect the barbed tips of each strand.

“Is this not a predictable tool? I had heard your methods were more… imaginative .” Golden gauntlets raked through the flail as if caressing the hair of a lover, reverent of the potential despite his attitude. “An experienced hand can turn even the most basic of implements into an instrument of the finest art.” The whip flicked with a smooth and swift motion of his wrist, the ends of the tails snapping against the upper thigh of the bound participant, a slight whine escaping their lips. “Do not hold back, dear one, let the Maiden hear you sing to her with your pain.”

“Let me hear you.” Gortash interjected, impatience clear in his voice.

“You think yourself above a goddess?” He frowned, turning to observe the dark haired man whose eyes were fixed on the quivering knees of his lover.

“And you think yourself an expert on the whims of deities?” The reply came with an indignant scoff, followed by three swift whips of the flog.

The first drew a breathy gasp from Durge, but the other two wrought only silence from their lungs. Abdirak stayed the lord’s hand before a fourth strike could follow.

“Patience, Enver.” He warned, his grip tightening on the metal clad wrist enough for both to feel the edge of pain. “Perhaps you do have knowledge of the divine that I have yet to discover, but pain is clearly not your greatest skill. You must use finesse, draw it out properly. It is no race to be won, no prize to conquer in your haste.”

—

The casual use of given names did not escape Gortash, nor did it fail to raise his ire, but even he could see how Durge was no longer trembling in anticipation. Instead, they had twisted their head to show him their frown, their displeasure - there were few insults that could’ve been greater. “As you wish.” He tore his hand from Abdirak’s grasp and folded his arms, glaring between the two.

The priest did not lash out with the flail again. Instead, he draped the strands over the base of Durge’s tail, drawing it slowly back so the length dragged across their scales. Their back arched, such as it could from how they were bound, body pressing against the wall with a hiss as the barbed ends caught on their pale flesh.

Just when he was certain they would be bored by the lack of pain, he noticed Abdirak’s expression change. The flail connected with a deeper impact this time, striking the same spot that had felt a far gentler caress mere moments ago. Durge keened, their hips pressing against the wall, and when their lungs had filled once more the priest struck again on their upper back this time.

Pricks of blood coloured white scales with the stain of violence, the thought alone leaving Enver grateful that his jacket left his chest exposed to the cool air of the room. The scant outfit that Abdirak wore was also making more sense as the heat within him rose.

“Excellent, dear one! That’s it, let the pain flow through you!” Another pause and the whip bit into the back of Durge’s leg, a howl following it that drew a loud laugh from the wielder.

“I see.” He mused, one hand rising to caress his chin in idle thought. “It is not simply the impact but the anticipation that is required.”

“So you can learn, despite the pride.” Abdirak doled out another two strikes, the rattle of the chains mixing with a longer moan from the one writhing within their bonds. “Then I may allow you to try again, see if you can bring forth their pain properly this time.”

Enver paused, battling the urge to tell the priest where to take that impudent attitude. That particular fight was easily won by the need to hear that voice again, their voice. Did it matter who heard their pleasured pain? No. Not if he could be its cause.

—

The cold of the wall and the stone floor beneath their bare feet was grounding. The intermittent screaming in their mind, a blend of the unwelcome voice and memories of torture seared into their very bones, was growing quieter. The way Gortash… Enver looked upon their naked body, bound like an animal, with that hunger glowering in his dark eyes… Durge felt his gaze like hot fire licking across their skin, searing lust held tight behind well practised poise.

Abdirak, too, was eyeing them with some interest. His ice cold gaze was different, though. Like the first time they had met, he saw a different purpose to their game. His own pleasure was not coming from the arousal that stirred deep in the pit of their belly, but in the connection to Loviatar, and the comfort in knowing that pain had its purpose in soothing their deeper agonies.

The breath was once again pulled from their lungs as Enver’s arm arced, unseen, to bring the barbed flail to bear on their flank. Hot and bright sensation burned into the spreading warmth of pleasure, adrenaline smothering the creeping doubts in the back of their mind. This was safe. The two behind them were both safe so long as they were bound, the voice driven back by the exquisite-

The next blow to their rear felt far more targeted as their moan almost carried the syllables of his name on their tongue. “Env- aaaah!”

He was at their side in an instant, claws at their chin, his lips stealing a kiss hotter than the pain that lanced through them as Abdirak’s flail struck their exposed arms. “I am right here. Say it. Say it again.”

He must have been signalling to the priest this time, as the strike hit a full second after he had prevented their reply with his lips on theirs. “Enver-” They moaned through the pain and into his kiss, tongue hot with the hint of smoke, the taste bitter and earthy like liquor and spice. It was…familiar. Intoxicating. Their tongue fought his, while his claws dug into their ribs and the whip came down on their lower back.

—

Abdirak admired his own handiwork. The crimson blemishes were a perfect partner to the pale scales of the Dragonborn’s body. They were clearly aroused, their hips pressing towards the wall to seek even the slightest bit of friction for their satisfaction. Of course, the ambitious man by their side was obviously hoping for this result with how eagerly he devoured their tongue in a show of pure passion. No matter, Loviatar’s embrace had more strength in her grip than lust’s hedonism alone. Not that he was immune to that particular vice, either, the lower half of his robes barely hiding anything. Not that anyone’s eyes were on him, nor would he be bothered if they were. Pain and pleasure… The two were as inseparable as the Archduke and his Assassin.

The flail was losing its effectiveness now, so it was time to change the game; it could not become stale after all. Loviatar demanded her offering as much as his own desire demanded satisfaction. Abdirak threw the key to Gortash’s feet, the slight scowl at the veiled insult pleasing him almost as much as the growing anticipation.

“Turn them around. They must face us for what is to follow.” He turned away, sorting through his bag for the tools he wanted. “Ah, but this time leave their tail free.”

He could hear the indignant huff from the human before the clink of chains marked that his orders were indeed being followed carefully. When he returned to the pair he carried three flasks and a narrow, hollow rod.

Two bottles clinked on the stone as he set them down on the floor, keeping only the smaller of them in his hand with the rod. The latter he held before the Dragonborn, watching their eyes light with recognition. “Tell me, dear one, are you resistant to the cold?”

“I am.” They nodded quietly. “And…I agree.”

“Excellent.” Abdirak smiled approvingly, the cantrip forming easily in his mind.

“What is it, exactly, that you are planning to do with that?” Gortash was challenging him again, though this time with more curiosity than annoyance.

Threads of the Weave answered the simple call of the spell, crystals of frost spreading up the length of the metal rod. “This will add to their pleasure.” He stated simply, glancing down to where the Dragonborn was fully erect and twitching with anticipation. “And, most likely, to your own.”

The cork of the bottle was easily unstoppered by his teeth, the oil trickling down the iced surface that was already burning his own fingers with the cold. He knelt, almost reverently, in front of his willing prisoner, pouring a little more oil where it would soon be needed.

“Enver. Kneel.” He indicated the space next to him, looking up at the scowl on the man’s features as he silently refused. “Or would you rather I be more intimate with your lover before you?”

“Insolent-” Gortash began, quickly changing his mind before Abdirak’s fingers could touch a single inch of the Dragonborn’s skin. There was a slight groan as the proud Archduke sank to his knees. “They are mine . You are a guest , here by their whims alone.”

“So you say.” Abdirak held the metal rod out, almost loath to have the aching cold leave his fingertips. He indicated the rigid and quivering tip of the Dragonborn, whose tail was tapping at the ground with nervous anticipation. “Slowly. A little at a time, but when you are done it must only leave this much exposed. Use more oil should you need it.”

—

Gortash was not fond of taking orders, nor was he pleased with the growing ache in his knee. An old injury, one that did not trouble him much, but the stone floor was not a place of comfort. He considered if the smirking priest knew, and intended this discomfort as another offering to his vile goddess, but it mattered little. Durge wanted this, wanted him . That was not something to be ignored. He hesitated at first. One hand braced on their hip, claws barely digging into their skin, the initial inch barely slipping in as he felt their body quiver. It was their tail on his back, however, that encouraged him to push further despite the hiss of pain from above.

Enver worked carefully, pressing in further before drawing back, adding a little more oil, soothing them with small circles drawn on their hip with his thumb. All the while the priest remained at his side, watching, muttering his approval, and denying any further touch until the hollow rod was fully placed as instructed.

Abdirak looked up towards their captive, a slight smile once again playing at the corners of thin lips. “There. Do you feel it, dear one? The cold battling the heat of your body, the pressure within, the edge of pain tugging at your senses?”

Above them, Durge audibly swallowed, throat dry and slightly hoarse. They nodded, and Enver felt their tail curl around his leg like an embrace, holding the area where the pain was worse… He wondered if they knew, if they remembered… Impossible. Probably.

“Excellent.” The priest continued, without awaiting further response from either of them. “Tap it, if you so please - they will feel it.”

Enver complied experimentally, not bothering with how easily Abdirak was ordering him around. All that mattered was how sweet the moan was as he tapped sharply on the end of the hollow rod.

Abdirak finally stood, taking the two bottles he had set down earlier with him. To Gortash’s surprise, the priest offered a hand to help him up. “This one,” he took the bottle held out to him, its contents glowing slightly, glass cool to the touch. “This one they must drink, all of it, if you would be so kind.”

“You heard him, my dear. It is quite safe.” Enver knew a potion of fire resistance when he held one, though its purpose was the part that he found more intriguing. He ran a clawed thumb along the edge of his lover’s lips, willing them to part as he unstoppered the bottle with his teeth. “Perhaps you would trust it more from a more fitting chalice for your station.”

—

Durge would’ve drained the bottle without a second thought. They both knew that, but this… They did not wish to argue as Enver kissed the potion into their mouth bit by bit, moaning against his tongue as he tapped the rod that pressed deep inside against nerves that were screaming for stimulation.

The cold would’ve burned to someone without their natural resistance, but instead, the icy magic in the metal provided a difference of sensation, the freezing fighting the searing heat of their lust and holding it back. Though not entirely…

The potion spread through their body, flooding their veins with distilled magic that mingled with the heady arousal that pulsed through every muscle, seeping into their bones, pushing aside any thought besides a need for more .

By the time the last of the potion trickled down their throat, they were breathless, twitching, pulling at the chains to reach his lips once more. But they were denied. He pulled away, his expression unreadable, his eyes drifting down to where they were left now untouched and harder than the wall behind them.

The last of Abdirak’s flasks had steam drifting from the now open top, the priest holding a small flame beneath the bottom of the glass that charred with black soot from the fire licking around it. When the bottle tilted, the liquid that trickled across their chest was near boiling, and even through the resistance the potion provided they could still feel the burning sting.

“More.” They breathed, feeling only the edge of pain, the keening need for greater sensation. “Please, Enver-”

“Dear one, I shall pretend I did not hear you call another’s name again while I am the only one delivering your penance.” Abdirak’s hand tapped sharply on the tip of the rod, driving it in a short hard burst of sensation that was enhanced by the iced magic still woven through the metal. “But if you desire your lover’s attention, that can be arranged. Is that what you wish for, dear one? Do you want to see him bared before you, sharing your pain?”

The thought of the tyrant bent and bowed flashed through Durge’s mind. A memory? A daydream? A fleeting imagination of desire? They neither knew nor cared, beyond what it might take to see him in such a position. “Yes, Abdirak. If…if that is what he also wants.”

—

Abdirak turned towards Gortash, carefully concealing the hint of uncertainty clouding the back of his mind. Lords like him were often willing to debase themselves, but there was no guarantee his pride would allow his libido the satisfaction. He decided it would be safer to goad the man’s ego first, which would make bringing him to his knees far more satisfying. “Well, my Lord? What is your choice? You both know your signals, how to stop at any time.”

He frowned as the man stepped towards his lover instead, golden claws caressing bare white scales. “You wish…to share the penance that you requested?” Dark eyes beneath a furrowed brow searched the Dragonborn for an answer.

“I need the pain,” they stated plainly. Abdirak smiled. “And I need you .” They continued, his smile growing. “If we can share it, if you can feel what I feel…”

“So be it.” Gortash conceded easily, sealing the agreement with a brief kiss, one that the Dragonborn chased with their teeth nipping at his lip, drawing blood.

Abdirak watched silently as the man caught the trickle of crimson on his finger, pressing it into their mouth, almost goading them to bite his entire hand right off there and then…but they didn’t. The dark fire behind their eyes flickered and was silenced in the same heartbeat, violence subsiding in the simple touch of golden claws.

“Undress yourself, Enver.” He left no room for argument in his tone, cold with an edge of intrigue as he set the steaming bottle aside, stalking across the room to his bags once more. The little lord had clearly experienced some issue in his knee - that could serve the Maiden well. Leather straps, a metal bar, a sharp edged golden collar that was an unintentionally perfect match for the man’s gauntlets. A point to consider… “Your gloves. Leave them on.”

—

Following orders was not particularly in Gortash’s interests, but he would make an exception. The flicker of recognition in their eyes, the cracks in the glass of shattered memories coming together in new patterns… A little more and perhaps a stained glass window might show them a version of what was. What could be. They were watching him intently as he removed his clothes, folding each piece neatly and placing it aside. The moment he finished, he felt Abdirak’s finger tracing the light silver line of a long healed scar on his shoulder. What followed was a quiet voice in his ear, whispering instructions that sent a shiver down his spine. The harness slipped around his chest easily, cool leather straps pulling taught firmly. It forced his shoulders back, just a slight edge of an ache digging at the inside of his joints. He reasoned that his bound lover likely felt a similar discomfort, their arms still chained high above them, legs still spread where their ankles were hitched to the wall. It was the cold of metal against his neck that stopped the breath in Enver’s throat for a moment. It was not constricting, but he could tell that moving too much would press the sharp little spikes into his chin and collarbone.

As he had been instructed, he walked to the wall, standing so close he could feel the heat radiating from Durge’s body, smell the scent of sweat and the sweet tang of old blood that seemed to follow them everywhere. Abdirak tapped the back of his knees with a simple riding crop, bidding him to kneel before the assassin. His assassin.

The leather cuffs around his ankles were attached to a sturdy metal bar, keeping his legs spread apart as he knelt painfully on the hard stone of the floor. The angle was no help to the angry pulsing ache deep in his joint… He would be needing his cane tomorrow, but that mattered little. His face was so close to the twitching and rigid Dragonborn that he could hardly take his eyes off the end of the chilled metal tube protruding from their tip.

“Pay attention, Enver.” The priest hooked a chain to the metal ring of the harness that sat between his taught shoulder blades, hoisting it to attach to the same point Durge’s wrists were secured to the wall. His chest now bore some of his bodyweight - easier on his knees, but not enough to eliminate the discomfort. To his surprise, Enver’s hands remained unbound. “You surprise me, Priest. I had expected to be left with no such freedom.”

“Freedom,” Abdirak leaned down, growling darkly in his ear, “is all a matter of perspective.”

—

Durge could hear their pulse drumming through their head, adrenaline and painful arousal at the sight of the proud Archduke held beneath them with his legs spread. The harness enhanced the shape of his chest, dark curls of hair covering his body in stark contrast to their pearly scales. Perhaps that’s why they were drawn together, they reasoned. The differences.

Their own body was all ridges and scales, hard edges and bright colours, not a single hair upon them.

Enver’s body was made of soft curves, rich toned skin, the shock of dark hair crowning the man who dreamed of grandeur-

His dreams… He talked about those, sometimes.

Their attention snapped back at the feeling of the Archduke’s golden claws seeking their hips, the tip of the metal pricking into their skin with a familiar sting. Dark eyes gazed up into theirs as they felt the gauntlets raking down the sides of their thighs. “Look at me. You asked for this, my dear, do not waste it.”

“Now,” Abdirak’s voice cut between them, cool and clear. “Shall we continue?” They could see the heated bottle in his hand, once again steaming from the flame held beneath.

The temperature would’ve been close to scalding had it hit Enver directly, even on their own flesh with the effects of the potion still resisting the damage it could do, it felt damn near blistering. The path the liquid coursed cooled as it trickled lower, flowing off the hard edges of their body to splash onto the bare chest of the man below. He drew in a sharp breath as they watched his eyes momentarily widen with the burn.

“Do not hold back.” The priest scolded the pair, moments before a longer pour of heated water flowed across their bodies drawing out a low moan in chorus. “Good, dear one, good - show him how beautifully your pain can sing out together, be sure that Loviatar can hear your devotion!” Over the course of countless long minutes, the searing burns grew hotter, drawing the volume of their voices louder as Abdirak’s joyful laughter echoed from the stone walls. Durge’s mind grew ragged at the edges, a soft and peaceful haze settling into the intensity of the pain and the pleasure of seeing the Archduke suffering in tandem with them. Below, they were almost shivering, the hollow tube within less empty than it had been despite the bitter cold of the metal.

—

Abdirak leaned down again to address the kneeling lord, orchestrating the crescendo of the symphony he was conducting in Loviatar’s honour. “You see how they are desperate for you? Taste them, Enver. Do not let one drop spill to the floor.” He removed the collar, freeing the man to move. Next, he pressed the tip of the riding crop against the slight swelling forming at the man’s knee, relishing the pained howl it drew from his lips as he gripped Gortash’s hair and pressed his head forward to the leaking Dragonborn.

They were gazing down, eyes almost clouding over, he could sense the soft layer of bliss wrapping around them with the lingering edge of pain. The priest stood up straight once more calling forth the Weave under the watchful eye of his goddess to shroud Durge’s vision with darkness. His crop struck true on Gortash’s bare calf, the swift rising of a reddened welt further proof to the offering of pain as he moaned around his lover, the ice cold of the rod no doubt burning his tongue as he lost his careful composure to the impact. Durge also cried out, exactly as planned. Enver’s metal claws had dug deeply into their side. The rich crimson trickle coursing down their shaking thigh was alluring, a paint upon the canvas. Each fresh mark of the crop focused the shared pain. Gortash feeling the direct impact, still trying to please his lover even as time and time again his gauntlets pierced their flesh, transferring the pain. And of course, his tongue burning on the icy metal would be pressing it deeper into Durge, teasing forth the deeper ecstasy of stimulation.

He envied them, now. Bound together, kept purposefully on the brink of satisfying their lust but never tipping over the edge, the sweet caress of agony wrapping around them with Loviatar’s loving embrace. The push and pull of the strikes, the beautiful colour of bruising rising below dark skin, the strain and rattle of chains and bindings…

—

Gortash was quickly reaching his limit. The taste of his lover’s lust finally upon his tongue, scalded as it was by the cold of the metal, was raising his desire to a fever pitch. He wanted them. Needed them. Durge’s pulse was thrumming on his lips every time he pressed heated kisses along their length - they were about ready to tear the chains from the walls. It wouldn’t be the first time, either.

He felt their tail wrap around his back, his arms embracing their hips as Abdirak’s crop was stayed from further impact. Their voice broke the silence, gasping and thick with lust.

“Enough, priest. I cannot… Pain’s purpose is served, but I must have him. Return my sight, release my chains, and leave me with him.” Their tail was gradually tightening its grip, protective perhaps…or was it becoming possessive? His heart pounded at the possibility.

“As you wish, dear one. Your penance was…exquisite. The Maiden is very satisfied by your offering, as am I.” The spell around the Dragonborn’s vision was broken, and their chains released with ease. “I shall return for my belongings tomorrow.”

“Your payment will be sent in due course.” Gortash added, reclaiming a little of his power in the situation. Although that prospect seemed absurd as he remained naked on his knees, the harness holding half of his weight.

The footsteps receded, followed by the click of the door opening and closing. He looked up, now, seeing Durge rubbing the feeling back into their wrists. Their body was marked with red streaks. The marks of his golden gauntlets had pierced the marble of their flesh, chiselling it back into the sculpture of magnificent violence that he longed to bow before…exactly like he was doing right now.

Thin draconic lips pulled into a smirk, the fire in their eyes proving their devotion, their desire. And all of it aimed at him at last. Aimed like the weapon they truly were.

Durge reached up and pulled hard on the chain connected to Enver’s harness, hauling him off the ground. His ankles were still bound to the spreader bar, but his hands were free, and that was the only thing that gave him even a second of stability against their body as he was pulled until he was on tiptoes.

“There you are.” Enver muttered, almost reverently, still below the level of their eyes.

“Here I am, Tyrant.” They ran their hands from his shoulders to his wrists, his skin prickling beneath their touch before they brought his hands up to their throat, placing his gauntlets like a gilded collar. “You thought you could hold me, chain me, tame me while I was weakened by my need?”

“The only chains that could ever hold you , my dear, were the ones that you asked for.” Recognition flickered and left. It wasn’t all there, that was too much to hope…but their body remembered. He didn’t need to look down to know that the hollow rod was not empty, that they were twitching as their pulse increased under his fingertips, that they were not going to stop until they were satisfied.

—

The sharp metal edges and calloused fingertips stayed right where Durge held them, Enver’s chest almost touching theirs where the harness was holding him up from behind his shoulders. Dark eyes never lost their pride, even as he allowed them to fix the chains that had bound them to his wrists this time.

Durge didn’t remember everything he wanted them to, they knew that much, but the Dragonborn could feel a peace and clarity persisting through the ritual of exchanging power with him. The storm that raged within them quietened to a few dark clouds and a cold wind whispering between them, and whispers were far easier to ignore.

They followed where his eyes drifted, to the rod still pressed deep within them, the magic barely fading away to finally allow the metal to heat. They carefully took hold of the end, allowing themselves a few moments more pleasure and deep stimulation before withdrawing it at an achingly slow pace. The end dripped slightly, a mixture of oil and denied orgasm. Perfect.

They brought it up to Enver’s lips, holding it level until they parted, his tongue obediently coming forth from between them to catch his prize as they trickled it into his mouth. They leaned forward over his shoulder, their lips grazing the edge of his ear as they purred their approval. “Good. Very good… That’s what you want to hear from me, isn’t it, Enver? How good you are?”

The only response was a quiet swallow, indicating the rod was now empty. They tossed it aside.

“You were insolent with the priest.” Their teeth grazed his neck as they whispered dark and low against his heated skin. One clawed hand drifted down, pleased - and not at all surprised - to find him fully erect and leaking beneath the first hint of their touch. They tightened their grip with a growl. “But you will not be insolent with me, will you.”

Not a question, a statement. One that Enver did not dispute.

“Good boy.” Another twitch. They smirked, letting go of him once more and trailing their hands around his body, following them with their tail, leaving the whisper of an embrace around him. He looked so inviting, held against the wall, spread and tense as every muscle worked overtime to keep him where they had put him.

He remained silent, as Durge padded across the room to fetch some more oil. It was easy work to pour it across their fingers, teasing Enver open as his breathing became more ragged, preparing him for all they wanted to give him. All they wanted to take .

—

The strain was almost too much for Gortash to bear, but bear it he did. Pride might come before the fall but he had no intention of doing either. The heat of the hands prying him open with fervent desire held a slight warmth of care to them too - claws meant for rending flesh apart moved with care, pulling forth not blood but deep and intoxicating pleasure.

Their voice whispered praise close to his ear once more, breath hot, tongue following the words to taste the sweat trickling down his neck. A shiver crept down his spine as their hands withdrew, leaving him empty…but not for long.

Durge teased him with every moment, pressing their tip to his quivering hole but refusing to enter, instead sliding their still-oiled hands around to his hips. They paused for a moment, squeezing hard enough to leave small bruises beneath their fingertips, then moving down the side of his thighs. In the next moment, Enver Gortash moaned loud enough for the city to hear. But he did not care. Durge had hooked their foot beneath the bar holding his ankles, simultaneously lifting his thighs and dropping him back in one swift motion that filled him instantly. “That sound,” they growled as they held him flush against their body. “It is…pleasing.”

—

The echo from the walls was familiar and had stirred a different voice within their restless mind. One that further stoked their pleasure to feel themselves deep within his body, savouring how his muscles added pressure even as they kept him still. They brought their tail around to caress his chest, relishing how his heartbeat thrummed through his back and against their ribs. “I missed you, my dear.” Enver managed to murmur through ragged-edged breaths, words holding poise his voice no longer possessed. The contradiction was pleasing to their ears.

“I would miss this too, had I known what there was to miss.” They began to move him, relishing the feel of each moment of friction, building the sensation with a slow but gradually building rhythm. “You…were made for me, Enver.”

“I was not.” He breathed his reply between low moans speaking plainly, literally, lending further weight to the words that followed. “But I am yours.” “Do you want more, Tyrant? If you belong to me, should I use you how I see fit?” Durge didn’t need to hear his answer. They felt it, his body quivering as they sank inside him with a harsher thrust, testing if he was truly ready. “Good. Boy.”

They braced one hand against the wall, their tail wrapping around his waist to hold him firmly, their other hand snaking around to grip him with a matching rhythm as they began to slam hard into his warm and inviting body.

The Dragonborn’s own breaths began to quicken to gasps, overwhelmed by the pure sensation. He was tight around them, clenching down on every inch and adding further friction. He was soft against them, their sharp edges leaving bruises on the curves of his tender flesh. He was hard in their grip, throbbing and pulsing under their fingertips. He was pliant beneath their lips, his head moving to the side as their kiss tasted his vulnerable neck. He was proud, strong, willing, undignified, moaning, melting into them…

He was Lord Enver Gortash, Archduke of Baldur’s Gate, self proclaimed saviour of the city, chosen of a God…and he was theirs.

—

The Dragonborn’s growl was possessive, just short of feral, a bare hint of a warning before their teeth bit down hard on his shoulder. The pain blossomed through Enver, body and mind heating like the blood that trickled forth, lapped up by Durge’s hungry and fervent tongue. Moments later the orgasm he had been desperate for ripped through him like a hurricane, spilling over onto the floor, some even reaching the wall with the sheer force of the climax. Nothing compared to this, to his Assassin burying his favourite weapon deep inside him, growling against his bleeding skin again as their own end approached. There was no slowing, no mercy. Their grip was brutal, their rhythm punishing, and the overstimulation of feeling them expand within him as they toppled over the edge of bliss nearly brought him to a second peak himself. They continued, filling him, drawing out every last pulsing moment that left him quivering in their embrace and straining against the chains that still held his arms firmly above. By the time they were done, Enver could barely feel his own body. His heart beat so hard against his chest he was almost certain it would burst, spilling his blood across their pure white scales…what bliss that might be, to find an end in their arms, knowing the only person worthy of taking his life could hold his heart in their hands in more ways than one. But for now, their hands were not stained with his blood, not holding his life as it ebbed away, but instead caressing him. Long fingers curled into thick dark hair, the tips of their claws caressing his scalp. A quick cast of mage hand released the chains binding him with a few deft motions, leaving him held only in his lover’s arms.

—

“Enver.” They murmured, hearing nothing but their voice in their mind, soft with the afterglow of bliss.

“My dear.” He replied, leaning his head back on their shoulder and bringing his hand to their cheek with a tender caress.

They hesitated, unsure if they should ask the question playing on the tip of their tongue… They swallowed their uncertainty, along with the faint taste of his blood that lingered on their lips. The absurdity of being so shy now whilst still buried deep in his body was not lost on them. “May I stay? Until morning. That’s all.”

“As you wish. We both have work to do, after all.” Enver paused, kissing their bloodstained lips, a small shudder of pleasure palpable in his otherwise limp body. “But that can wait. Until the sun rises, you may have whatever you desire.”

A grin crept across their face, mind filling not with murderous urges but entirely more pleasurable ones. “I was going to suggest that we sleep, but hearing those words…” They suddenly pushed forwards, trapping his body against the wall, the hand that was caressing his hair took a firm grip at his roots before roughly shoving his cheek hard against cold stone. “Brace yourself, Enver. There’s a long time between now and dawn.”

--- ---

ENDING NOTES So fun fact I still haven't played as Durge, I'm still absorbing lore and vibes through fandom and fan works~ I haven't even read much fic beyond those by a couple of friends, but I'm having a lot of fun writing with them anyway. Their dynamic is fascinating, so much to play with, so many little headcanons you can weave in to the story~ Anyway, I hope you enjoyed my first full length Durgetash piece with added Abdirak~ I was going to keep our dear priest around to fuck too, but the vibe leaned heavily into just having the two of them for that. We can assume Abdirak went to have a delightful evening with a certain Shadar-Kai instead, they deserve more time together anyway.

#baldurs gate 3 #durgetash #dark urge x gortash #abdirak #dark urge x abdirak #dark urge x gortash x abdirak #fanfic #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #ao3fic #ao3 fanfic #enver gortash #bg3 gortash #Spotify

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beelsfridge · 10 months

Text

Goodbye (For Now)

Nightbringer Spoilers Ahead (maybe a little ooc)

Tags:(Angst/TBD)(TimeTravel)(SayingGoodbye)

(I’ll adjust everything in the morning)

(Pt 1/2)

Synopsis:

You knew you weren’t suppose to stay in the past for that long. You knew you didn’t belong there. You had to get back to your time eventually.

And even if the brothers were warming up to you again, you had to say goodbye. The worst part was that they would never know why you really left.

“You can finally go back home MC.” Solomon tells you with a smile as he holds your hands with joy,”Back to your time. You did it.”

“Yeah!” You say with relief,”I can go back, back home where the people I love are waiting for me.” You can’t help but feel your heart flutter at the warmth and comfort of the brothers and everyone else you longed for.

“There’s no time to lose! It’ll happen just as quickly, Just as before-“ Solomon says ready to perform the ritual before you find yourself hesitating.

“Wait-“ You say,”Shouldn’t I say goodbye?” You ask conflicted.

“Say goodbye? MC they can’t know where you’re from. We talked about this already-“ Solomon said,”You need not to worry about these versions of themselves anymore.

“Yeah but…” You say as you look to the House of Lamentation,”But even if they don’t know it’s me yet…this version of myself..I’m still their friend. They deserve to know, that I won’t be coming back ” You tell him.

“Oh MC…”Solomon looks at with with what you feel is pity,”These are not the brothers you know…chances are they probably won’t even care or notice you’re gone..”

You look down at the floor, a saddened expression taken place,”Yeah..you’re probably right..they probably didn’t really even care..”

Solomon sighs deeply as he contemplates your words. After a few moments he squeezes your hand reassuringly,”I think…you should do what you desire… if you believe Lucifer and his brothers deserve sort closure then I suppose I can’t stop you. Just hurry back…for my sake.”

Your eyes light up with joy as you hug Solomon lovingly,”You’re the best!”

“Obviously.” He says patting your back before you break away.

“Alright! I’ll be back real quick alright!” You say as you hurry to the House of Lamentation.

“I’ll be waiting.” Solomon says watching you scurry off.

Normally, at least in this timeline, you wouldn’t really go to the house of lamentation without proper reason and permission.

So you hope Lucifer or someone would at least let you in.

Does the house look a lot bigger or have you just not seen it in a while?

You look back at the door, hesitantly you knock three times. You wait anxiously for any sort of response and when time passed and nobody answered you felt quite defeated.

“I guess…Solomon..was right..” You mumble to yourself a bit disappointedly. Just as you were about to walk away the door cracked open.

You hesitantly reach for it and peek inside.

“H-hello?” You say not wanting to intrude more than you have to.

Nonetheless you step into the house fully. Despite it looking just slightly different, it still felt like home to you.

You take a breath of relief before a voice startles you.

“Ah? - Oh! It’s you, ya weirdo what are you doing here?!” Mammon stares at you confusingly,”Who let ya in?”

“I well- I knocked and the door opened so I wasn’t really sure if I could come in or not or if someone let me in by mistake so I walk in here to see if there was anyone but I didn’t see anyone so I was gonna leave but then -“You begin to ramble before Mammon cuts you off.

“Oi, quit ya yappin. I don’t care.” Mammon tells you.

“Right.” You say,”Sorry.”

“You’re so weird.” Mammon says shaking his head disapprovingly,”But I guess you’re here for a reason eh? What can the great Mammon do for you? Ya need to see Luci or sum?”

“Well yeah- but also I came to see you! Also everyone else.” You tell him.

“M-me?!” Mammon says with utter confusion. It seems he decided to skip over the part you said everyone else as well.

“Yeah, there was something I needed to tell you-“ You tell him.

“T-tell me ? “ Mammons head begins to swirl,”Me? Why me?

“Well Mammon, it’s just that I’ve came ti say go-“You tell him before getting caught off by another voice.

“MAMMON!” Leviathan screams out as he approaches,”Where’s my damn money!”

“Jeez Levi, could you be any louder?!” Mammon scolds,”I’m in the middle of something here!”

“I don’t care - gimme my money!” Levi says before realizing it’s you.

“Huh?? MC?! You’re here?!” Levi seems surprised by your visit,.

“Oh! Levi! This is great- I needed to tell you both that-“ You say before yet another voice cuts you off.

“Ah~ what’s with all the yelling~ you’re all bound to get wrinkles like that- oh- MC?” Asmo says coming into view as he looks at you curiously,” What are you doing here?”

“Ah you’re here! Perfect ! - I came to -“ You say before Mammon cuts you off.

“Cant y’all see MC is trying to have a proper conversation with ME? Butt out.” Mammon says

“Mammon, you’re so full of yourself.” Levi says bitterly.

“Ay! Watch what you say!” Mammon says.

“Ugh you guys, MC is trying to say something. “ Asmo says

“Right..thanks Asmo..I was going to say that-“

“Can you all kindly shut the hell up?” Satan says marching into the room,”You’re all irritating me! I can hear shouting from halfway across the house.”

“Everything was fine until Levi and Asmo came in tryna be nosey!” Mammon tells Satan.

“I don’t care! Just shut up already-“Satan says before looking at you and his anger briefly replaced by confusion,”It’s you?”

Before you can say anything another voice pops in “Oh would you look at that Beel. I told you they were arguing. “ Belphie says yawning tiredly,”Could recognize Mammons annoying voice far that much of a distance.”

“Hey!”

Beel Hums in agreement as his stomach growls,”Mm yeah, it sure does seem that way. I suppose since MC is here that’s why they’re arguing.”

“Oh- you’re right. I didn’t even see MC til you said it.” Belphie says with a chuckle,”What brings you here? Normally Lucifer would’ve thrown a huge fuss anytime someone came over about being on our best behavior. So I assume he doesn’t know you’re here.”

“R-right-“ You say as they all look at you curiously. Suddenly it feels a little harder to say what you have to.

“I don’t see why the rest of ya need to be here. MC said she wanted to speak to me and-“Mammon starts off but gets cut off

“She did not say that you liar!” Levi says,”She clearly said me.”

“That’s not what I heard!” Asmo says as they all start arguing once more.

“I’m hungry.” Beel says.

“Is that really the only thing you’re concerned about right now?” Belphie asks.

Why does feel…so familiar to you?…it almost ..feels like when-

“So why are you here MC?” Satan asks (demands) gathering the attention of the others and knocking you out of your thoughts.

“Oh that’s…..right…” You says.

“Well spit it out, we don’t got all day now.” Mammon says growing increasingly impatient.

You look at all of them as they stare at you with such a familiar twinkle in their eyes. One that you thought you’d never really see again.

“I’ve…”You say bowing your head down,”I’ve come to say goodbye.”

It’s grows eerily quiet.

“Uh…okay?” Mammon says shrugging his shoulders,”You going on vacation or sum?”

You shake your head,”No, I’m leaving Mammon.”

“For how long?” Mammon asks again not quite grasping your words.

“I ..well-“ You say unsure of what to tell them as you twiddle your fingers together.

“Like a couple months or ?” Mammon waits for your answer.

You could feel everyone’s stare bore into your skin as they await your answer.

You hear Satan sigh,

“They mean forever Mammon. It means they’re never coming back.”

#part 2??#sorry for spelling errors #I’ll fix it in the #morning #I wrote this at 4 in the morning #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me leviathan #om! leviathan #obey me mammon #obey me beelzebub #obey me diavolo #obey me asmodeus #satan obey me #obey me belphegor #obey me lucifer #obey me solomon #obeymeangst #obey me x mc

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aquagirl1978 · 1 year

Text

Stalker's Tango - Gilbert von Obsidian x Reader (Ikemen Prince)

A/N: While there are no direct spoilers to his main route, there are themes in this that have been present in past events (most notably his First Birthday Story).

Pairing: Gilbert von Obsidian x Reader

Prompt: inspired by the art and songs listed in this post by @wordycheeseblob

Tags: cw: mentions of biting, cw: possessive thoughts, cw: mentions of harm to others

He stood face to face with you; the way he stared at you, it was as if you were the only pair and the other dozens of dancers simply did not exist.

“The tango.” Not a question, but a command, he took your hand in his, your warmth immediately seeping into his cool skin. With his other hand, he tilted your chin up. Wrapping his hand gently around your neck, his thumb tracing the outline of the mark he left on you earlier, he looked into your eyes, clear windows into your pure heart that disgusted him so much.

Your moves sharp and seductive, Gilbert squeezed your hand as he spun you around the dancefloor, leading you around like he owned you.

Mine, he thought, as he breathed in your scent, faint of roses, reminiscent of Rhodolite. Pure of heart, and yet you remained with him. By his side. As you promised you always would.

His grip nearly crushing your hand, he squeezed every bit of warmth from you. How nice it would feel to hold your body close to him, free from all these layers of fabric. Skin to skin, your arms wrapped around his body, enveloping him in your warmth until his chill melted away. His fingers splayed on your lower back, pressing against your skin with the knowledge that beneath the thin material covering your body lie his marks. Marks you willingly let him leave, marks that caused you to moan his name, marks that showed who you belonged to.

How he desired to leave more marks after this dance was done.

Mine, he thought, as his eye fixed upon your neck, lingering on the bite mark he left on your delicate skin. A sign of affection. A sign of his affection.

Gilbert had done bad things - terrible, unspeakable things - to others and to you. And despite all that, you, with your pure heart, a heart that he hated at times, loved him. It wasn’t your forgiveness or acceptance that he sought.

It was your love.

Mine, he thought, as he caught the eye of another glancing at you. Admiring you. Gilbert pulled you closer to him as he guided you away from their gaze. You smiled at Gilbert, completely unaware of the unwanted attention you had received. Gilbert was glad; he was the only one allowed to admire you, to covet you. Perhaps coming here was a bad idea, he thought, as thoughts of murdering this man dwelled in his mind.

As soon as the music slowed and the dance stopped, Gilbert smiled at you, his hand still firmly holding yours.

“We’ve danced enough, I’m ready to go back to our room.” You nodded; Gilbert was unsure if you agreed only because he said so. But that didn’t matter, he got his way.

He pressed his lips against yours in a fierce kiss; he had wanted to invade your mouth with his tongue, but that could wait until you were alone. He needed to send the message to everyone there that you belonged to him. He pulled back, his thumb tracing your plump lips, thinking of all the things he’d like to do with you.

“Mine,” he whispered in your ear before leading you off the dance floor, towards a night of unforgiving passion.

Tagging: @redheadkittys @alixennial @rhodolitesroseforclavis @atelieredux @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @chaosangel767 @queengiuliettafirstlady @queen-dahlia @ikehoe @ikemen-writer @talfollowingstuff @kpop-and-otome @kisara-16 @altairring @lucyw260 @lordsisterxotome @violettduchess @jet-ivory @bellerose-arcana @yarnnerdally @crypticbibliophile @scorchieart @tele86 @nightfoxqueen @midnightarxsia @wordycheeseblob @wendolrea @aceuuuu @randonauticrap

#ikemen series #ikemen prince #ikepri #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri gilbert #ikemen gilbert #ikemen fanfic #ikepri fanfic #otome #otome games #otome fanfic

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affiesque · 5 months

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As promised, here’s the second half of my random thoughts and observations about Desire Catcher now that I’ve finished my latest rewatch (links aren’t working for me right now, but if you want to read the first half just click on one of the tags on this post and it should come up easily). The entire series is 24 episodes, most of which are somewhere between 35 and 45 minutes long - so, depending on what types of shows you usually watch, it might be a bit of a commitment. But I definitely think it’s worth it.

OK, time to brace yourself, as there’s a lot going on in this second part…

At the halfway mark the relationship between Luo Fei and Lu Fengping is starting to fray (oh look, it's my good friend angst again) - essentially, Lu Fengping is frustrated that his mom’s murder remains unsolved and Luo Fei hasn’t given him much in the way of clues like he was supposed to. Lu Fengping ends up working with the main villain (Bai Ya Xing), who is behind all of the crimes/murders that have been happening, to find his mom’s killer and get revenge. (I won’t spoil the details, but I will say that this particular storyline could probably have used some fleshing out, as the details and motivations don’t quite come together in the end. As I’ve noted before, the real draw with Desire Catcher is the relationships, so you can kind of wave those plot holes away - unless that sort of thing really bothers you, which I totally get.)

There’s a bit of a cat-and-mouse game going on throughout the middle episodes, with Lu Fengping getting more cagey and Luo Fei chasing after him a bit, attempting to figure out what he’s hiding. You get Luo Fei trying to casually inquire with multiple people as to Lu Fengping’s whereabouts when he’s gone for no more than a couple of hours at a time (we get it bro, you’re obsessed), not to mention lurking in the shadows near his apartment at night (yikes, dude). During this period there are definitely times when Lu Fengping looks almost guilty for pulling away and for what he’s planning to do, like he wants to confide in Luo Fei but he can’t - there’s a particular wistfulness to his expressions that’s so on point and gets me every time.

One nice little touch throughout is the many dinner dates the two leads go on - granted, one ends with Luo Fei leaving before they even eat anything, and another has him answering Lu Fengping’s question “Does everyone look like a suspect to you?” with “Yes - you look like one too,” so not exactly the most romantic situations (social skills are not Luo Fei’s strong point). But I am a sucker for those little intimate moments - misty evenings with blurry streetlights, tables piled high with steaming dishes and clinking glasses, the muted conversations of the people around them - and of course the sharing food = love symbolism.

Speaking of tropes, if you’re a fan of jealousy, then DC has got you covered. Again, no big plot spoilers here but Luo Fei finds out Lu Fengping has brought a girl home one night - not for the reason he (or anyone else) thinks, but you can tell he’s in his feelings about it (and Lu Fengping, I love you, but maybe in the future do not kidnap a stranger - even if you had your reasons and you were sort of helping her in the moment). He ends up getting arrested (twice!) for the abduction and when Luo Fei fails to help him, their “big breakup” begins in earnest - Lu Fengping saying “I shouldn’t have counted on you right from the start” got me right in the heart, ngl.

*Books as symbolism alert* - we get just one shot of some books strewn around Lu Fengping’s apartment in the second half, but I did find it interesting that the subtitles call out two of them specifically, which feels important. Those are “The Sea, The Sea” by Iris Murdoch and “It Takes More Than A Carrot And A Stick” by Wess Roberts. The former is about love and loss and romantic ideals by an author known for writing about morality and the power of the unconscious - things that seem relevant to a hypnotist, I would think. The latter actually made me laugh audibly when I noticed the subtitle: “Practical Ways Of Getting Along With People You Can’t Avoid At Work.” Sounds about right for them.

Here’s another alert - BIG GIANT SPOILERS AHEAD!! Click below with caution…

OK, so the big event of the second half is Lu Fengping faking his death(!!) in order to give him the time and space away from Luo Fei/the police to move ahead with his revenge plan. Long story short, Luo Fei thinks Lu Fengping has blown himself up, goes through the five stages of grief, figures out he’s still alive and somehow manages to be like, “Hey, thought you were dead but no biggie - let’s not even hug it out and instead just go right back to teasing each other and solving crimes - it’s all good.” Honestly, I’m glossing over a lot here - how absolutely devastated Luo Fei (and everyone else, for that matter) is when he thinks Lu Fengping is dead, how they finally yell a bit about their feelings and come clean about certain things when they reunite, how the OST rips your heart out again and again in these moments (“Did we meet just to be torn apart?” - I mean, come on), how relieved Lu Fengping looks when he realizes that Luo Fei doesn’t hate him for what he did, how Luo Fei suddenly can’t stop smiling (you’ve come a long way, baby). I think these are probably some of the strongest scenes in the entire show, but I must admit that the way they don’t truly address the fallout of something this intense still bugs me (stay tuned for a fic I’m writing on that very topic, in case that sort of thing interests you - and @thinkonce-acttwice, I ✨promise✨ I’m actually working on it!).

I know I haven’t mentioned Liang Yin in this second-half review yet - what happened/happens to her still plays a major role in the story of Lu Fengping’s mom’s death. I won’t give the details here, but do note that there are some flashback scenes of her getting attacked that might be rough for some viewers - so please keep that in mind. However, aside from a couple of moments where the men in her life feel the need to protect/shelter her despite her being quite capable of handling things herself, I will say that the story gives her back some agency, and it does feel as if by the end she’s come to terms with her past and is in a good place overall. And the relationship between her, Luo Fei, and Lu Fengping gets a really nice resolution - a sort of found family thing that brings them all together.

There’s lots of plot movement as we work our way through the final episodes - the big bad villain is vilaining, there’s an evil nurse who’s in on the shenanigans, poor Professor Ling (Lu Fengping’s mentor and fellow hypnotist) gets accused of being a fraud and ends up in the hospital, Lu Fengping almost stabs himself in the heart while hypnotized by Bai Ya Xing (though of course Luo Fei shows up in the nick of time to save him - I swear, despite knowing that this is just a “bromance” show, every time I watch that scene there’s one split second where it seems like they’re about to lean in and kiss - oof), poor Liang Yin gets kidnapped by the big bad villain (unfortunately, more “man pain”). I tell you, this show is a roller coaster ride every freaking episode.

I won’t spoil the final ending too much, but rest assured Liang Yin is fine. Stuff happens, Lu Fengping ends up in prison - though he sort of puts himself there on purpose, sacrificing himself for Luo Fei, even if he doesn’t come out and say that’s what he’s doing. And he basically gets a form of justice for his mom’s death. The very last bit sees him return from prison on parole - he reunites with the police team and Luo Fei in a slightly cheesy but rather touching moment, though, again, even just a quick hug would’ve been nice…

Bottom line, I love all of them, your honor, and will probably never be over this show - there’s so much to unpack in terms of the role of fate in our lives, how broken people can find something in each other to live for, how to forgive others and, importantly, yourself.

OK, again, this one got away from me, and I know I’m probably forgetting like a million little things, but hopefully I’ve managed to entertain at least one other person with my ramblings. And if anything here has sounded intriguing, please check this little show out so it gets the love it deserves! 🖤

#desire catcher #lu fengping x luo fei #lu fengping #luo fei #my recap

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shewhowas39 · 1 month

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fuck it. i'm doing it. starting a tarot deck prompt tag here. i'll always include a pick of the card and what deck i'm pulling from.

***

Title: "You've Got This" Card: Queen of Crosses Deck: Favole Tarot by Victoria Frances Ship: Karlach x Shadowheart Rating: Non-explicit Warnings: Mild sexual references, swearing, and some light Juniper & Starlight spoilers.

Summary: Karlach reminds herself that she's a sexy badass before making a move on the girl she likes.

Karlach glances around, ensuring that she's not being watched, before swiping the hand mirror from Astarion's pack.

She'd seen him using it before and been absolutely baffled - until she realized he mostly just stands around with it, huffing dramatically, until June comes over to tell him he's pretty. She's seen this happen more than once now, and it's hilarious every time.

Gods, she adores that pointy faced little man.

But he doesn't need the mirror right now and she does. She quickly runs back to her tent before stopping to check her reflection. She moves the mirror around so she can look at her face and neck from every angle. Are her horns looking shiny? Has she gotten all of the blood off from the fight earlier?

Or did the blood actually make her look better? Maybe she should go out and find some Absolute cultists to kill before she does this?

Karlach takes a deep breath, shaking off the string of nervous thoughts.

"You've got this, Karlach," she tells her reflection with the same determination and enthusiasm she would use to give her companions a pep talk. "You're good looking and funny and you kill things so good. You're a catch!"

In the nights since Dammon had fixed her engine, making it so she could actually touch people for the first time in a decade, she'd kissed countless Harpers and tiefling refugees in the tap room of the Last Light Inn. And she'd never felt a moment of insecurity. She knows how hot she is - ha! literally! - and worst case scenario, they'd turn her down and she would move on to someone else eager to get ot know Mama K.

This is different, though. This isn't just some random person she'll never see again. This is her friend. Her insightful, mysterious, sexy friend. She doesn't just want to kiss her at the bar or even carry her up the stairs to share a locked room and a night they'll never forget. Though that sounds really nice, too.

No. She wants to do this the right way. The Wyll Ravenguard way.

She can hear Wyll in her head already, cheering her on. Telling her to chase her heart's desires. She isn't nearly as romantic as him - and certainly not as chaste (at least, not by choice), but he has a few good ideas in that cute head of his.

Karlach knows now might be the worst possible time. They have this fucking Shadow Curse and Ketheric Thorm to deal with. But based on the way two beautiful green eyes have been looking at her these last few nights, she thinks this might be her shot.

And by the hells, she has waited too long for this sort of opportunity to miss it because of a stupid, evil, life stealing curse and a few hundred cultists.

"This is your shot," she tells her reflection again. "You'll regret it forever if you don't take it. And you're looking great tonight. Blood or lack of blood - doesn't matter. You're a babe." She winks at herself and then giggles at the absurdity of it.

Outside, she hears voices. She quickly stashes away the hand mirror, runs her hands over her clothes, and then pokes her head out of the tent flap. Shadowheart, Astarion, and June have come back down from the inn and seem to be finishing up some conversation.

"One of the Harpers says there's a Thorm family mausoleum around here. It might be a good place to gather some information," Shadowheart is saying.

"Oh, a crypt? Finally! It's been so long since you've dragged me to some disgusting, rat-infested hole in the ground," Astarion snarks. "I was starting to miss it."

June elbows him with a snort before nodding to Shadowheart. "Sounds like a good idea to me. We can talk it over with the others in the morning."

The three part ways as June and Astarion slip off toward the river and Shadowheart begins moving around camp, apparently gathering supplies for a bath.

Nope, nope, nope. Don't think about her int he bath, Karlach! She swallows. We're doing this the right way. The wyll Ravenguard way remember? And you're confident. You are so. fucking. confident.

With one last deep breath, Karlach climbs out of her tent, puts on her biggest, best - hopefully sexiest? - smile, and strides over to Shadowheart.

"Hey, you," she says. "Got a minute to talk?"

***

author's note: so this deck is a bit different. it leaves the reader to interpret what each of the suits corresponds to in a typical RWS deck. i, personally, read crosses as similar to wands. so that's what i used as my inspiration for this story.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #karlach x shadowheart #shadowheart x karlach #karlach bg3 #juniper & starlight #in the cards tarot drabbles

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fategranddisorder · 2 years

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To when we meet again (Achilles)

Warnings: slight angst, Atlantis spoilers

Tags: angst with a happy end, fluff,

So, erm I thought I had posted this one... but apparently I was dreaming it.

ANYWAY enjoy! I love Achilles, k thanks bai.

Achilles can't bear it.

The way you look the evening before battle. The world has been resting on your small shoulders for so long but it seems that this fight is taking a larger toll on you than ever before.

He knows he is not your servant. He is not the Achilles from Chaldea. Yet the way you look at him, makes the rider wish he was.

"Master"

You peer up at the green haired man, in slight confusion. You tuck all the feelings of the despair away, how much it hurts to know that Achilles will not survive this. That none of them will, all to pave a way ahead for you.

How much it hurts to fight against familiar faces.

The man bites back a groan, why couldn't you just use them as a weapon? Why do you have to look so sad at the thought of them suffering and dying.

"Don’t look at me like that"

You tilt your head faux confusion and Achilles wants to chuckle at your attempt to deceive him, to hide away your despair, to put up a brave front.

Yet the man catches the dip of your lip downwards, the small shuddering breath to ground yourself for what is to come.

"It makes me wish for things that are not possible, not here"

Before you could think about what the man means the Rider pulls you closer, tilting your head up, and you expect a kiss, a transfer of mana to stabilize the Rider, as his injury is only getting worse.

However Achilles opts to rest his head against yours.

It feels intimate, how he holds you close. Embracing you like he would a lover. You tremble as your own hands move up his armor and finally your hands come to rest at the base of his neck, playing with the fine hairs there.

Achilles smiles a bit, the fact you still wear your heart on your sleeve like this. Still care so much for them, he suppose that is why you can go so far in this fight for humanity. This is the reason why every servant you meet is so willing to fight for you. Because you truly care, about your future, about them, about every damn lostbelt you destroy.

He thumbs your lower lip, how many kisses has he stolen when nobody looked? Under the guise of needing strength, yet letting his lips and touch linger longer than he really needed.

"Give me one for the road" Achilles mumbles, dragging his thumb downwards to your chin. Tipping your head just a bit so he can slant his lips over yours. The kiss is searing, the mana you provide a simple afterthought. Like Achilles wants to imprint himself on your lips. His fingers dig into your clothes pressing you tightly against the man.

However right before you want to open your mouth to deepen it Achilles moves just a breath away from your delicious mouth.

"Bring down those fake gods" You feel the request of the Rider against your lips. You feel a renewed sense of determination, you have to win, to make all the memories and sacrifices worth it. Achilles senses it, your desire, your strength, to return the world as it was in the mana he can still taste on his tongue.

And Achilles wants nothing more than to stand with you in this fight, to see you smile in the end, yet he knows he can't.

The rider never meant for you to feel sad for him, to worry about his affliction nor did he expect himself to care for you this much, to enjoy the time you spend with him. To have his own lips twist up in a smile as soon as he sees yours.

Achilles never meant to be the cause of your unshed tears. The man takes in a long breath, his own eyes searching your face. You don’t know what has come over the man, yet with the way he looks at you it reminds you so much of…

"Achilles"

You stop your own train of thought, by saying his name. It is not fair of you, it is not fair of you to see him as the same man that is waiting for you back in Chaldea.

Whatever Achilles is looking for, he finds as the rider grins. Almost giddy. Because he can see how deeply your feelings for him run. You shouldn't worry so much about projecting your desires on him, after all, Achilles is sure he is summoned because of you.

It had to be fate. Out of all the Greek heroes that could have been summoned, he is one of them. To help you and to be swept away by you all over again.

And Achilles has no doubt that in his mind that he will remember. The story of this fight playing in his mind's eye when he takes a nap in Wandering Sea's.

Yet right now the Rider steals another kiss for your delicious lips. Chuckling as you huff a bit in frustration, letting you drag him down for a longer, sweeter kiss.

"Wait for me, Master"

#k.writes✒#fgo #fate/grand order #Achilles #reader insert #achilles x reader #reader x Achilles #fluff #angst (ish)

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enaelyork · 10 months

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Evil grows with love -Robotnik X Reader [Part 17]

**** For all the story, follow my master list here ! ****

Author note : WARNING, : This is hot here...Sex and little violence.

NO SONIC 2 SPOILER IN THIS STORY

See you soon ! With love ~

Chapter promps :

The hour of disillusion has come for Y/N. Will she manage to sort out her reason and her heart? Especially since Robotnik hasn't finished surprising her.

Words : 2.1 K

ROBOTNIK TAG LIST : @a-frozen-bag-of-corn, @jasminerobotnik @elisabethvanroseblood, @obsessed2fics

My Taglist is open here

[NB: In the French version, Robotnik and the reader always call each other by their surnames. I probably made the mistake of writing Y/N instead of L/N and I confess that I have no desire to change the whole story for that.]

Since when ?

How long had they just spent there, lying on the ground looking into each other's eyes, trying to read the flashes they perceived as in a sky full of stars. Robotnik might have 5 doctorates and an IQ of 300, but he seemed just as immersed as her in decoding other people's emotions.

Everything was new, starting with what made their hearts beat so fast. By the tenderness of their gestures. By the way she stroked his lower back with her fingertips, like a feather resting on his skin. She stared at him again when the doctor's hand gently touched her cheek. This contact was imbued with tenderness and it was something she had not expected to experience with him. The movement of his own hand upset him. Robotnik had never touched anyone like that, never had he been touched like that either. Delicately, as if he feared that she would now move away, he slid over her fine skin, which he had nevertheless abused in recent days without any scruple. Going over her cheek, barely brushing it, he ventured into her hair, marrying the undulations of her disparate and rebellious locks which seemed to want to spoil the sublime view of her face. He slid down the back of her neck and a shiver ran through him as he felt she wanted him closer to her. He wanted to resist, again, but he no longer had the strength to do so as he was already closing the little gap that remained between them. His nose could almost touch hers. Their breaths merged in a warm breeze. He was captured by her eyes, never wanted to have to give it up again.

-Ivo…

Y/N blinked, seeming to come out of a daydream she had locked herself in with him here, in this damp, silent hotel room.

-Ivo… she breathed. His name coming out of Y/N's warm lips sent a disconcerting sensation to Robotnik. He had understood that each time she said it, she would hit the wall of her coldness and her certainties. He had just given the weapon that would kill him to the only person who could pull the trigger.

-That's my first name… he whispered. She realized then that they had never introduced themselves.

Neither of them had ever tried to find out what their names were. They had contented themselves with their surname, their statutes, as if these were their only identities. As if they had ceased to exist as individuals in the eyes of the world. The idea that he had just given her this gift made her want to burst into tears. Instead, she just smiled tenderly and tried to make sure he didn't notice her bright eyes.

-Y/N… She blows her capitulation, also wanting him to know from her what she never gave to anyone. He giggled tenderly, blinking, his hand constantly touching this body he wanted every second a little more. "So you're [Country of your choice]…" he muttered. It was her turn to smile. She straightened up slowly to escape his merciless gaze, averted her eyes so as not to have to reveal more.

-Maybe…" she whispered softly, watching him. This man already had immense seductive potential dressed in black, but there, lying like this, with his hair in disarray, he was sexy to die for. She couldn't resist the urge to touch him again.

- Be careful… If you want to know too much, you risk getting attached.

A ruthless sneer formed under his mustache, the gaze that shot her then consumed her on the spot. -I may be willing to take the risk…

She bit her lip. Oh yeah, she loved hearing those words come from that mouth, she loved the idea that Robotnik wanted her, the idea of having captured her interest.

-Ivo…" She whispered as she stroked his shoulders, gently moving down his chest as she towered over him from her height. She could almost feel the doctor's skin rise with a delicate shiver.

-Ivo… she breathed again when her mouth came to tease his neck without even touching it, the doctor's breathing was getting heavier and he could almost hear the blow of the club which cracked his will. -Ivo… Y/N's hands landed on his stomach, went up on his chest and gently swept the top of his shoulders, Robotnik grabbed her wrist without violence.

-How many times will you repeat it?

She sent him a teasing smile.

-As many times as necessary, does that bother you? Bother him? Of course not.

- It just arouses my curiosity… The desire to experience something.

- Oh yes ? And what then?

- The intonation with which you will pronounce it when you will beg me to make you come. He literally saw her pupils dilate and a mean smile form on her lips.

- Don't count...

-I always got everything I wanted... Robotnik sat up in turn, a carnivorous smile stretching his mustache as both his hands placed themselves on her hips, grabbing them forcefully to force her to follow his movement.

-Me too…" It was a whisper, Y/N's breath hitching as she already wrapped her legs around the doctor's waist. She didn't know with what strength he had managed to lift her, but she was ready to concede it to him without resistance, to let herself be carried wherever he pleased. She didn't want to think now about the consequences of what was happening, or what it all meant to them. All she wanted was to feel again what she had been through in the crook of her arms.

Again and never stop.

-Something is wrong ?

Robotnik loomed over her, already buttoning up his dark shirt. His locks weren't perfectly combed yet and made him look messy. It was paradoxical for someone coming out of a shower. She hesitated for a moment, lying on the bed, her gaze lost on the ceiling, she could already see the daylight filtering through the curtains.

-Nothing important.

Of course it was, everything was. Started with the moment she woke up before him, watched him sleeping peacefully next to her, and enjoyed that moment. Y/N had been seized by the calm that overwhelmed her, by the well-being that she had felt nesting in the pit of her stomach when he was there, by her side and that she did not wake up alone.

Then hesitation. The urge to screw it all up. To grab the pass that was in his jacket and go search the truck. Understand Robotnik's research and what really drove him to persist for this space creature. She had asked herself the question several times. For her, it was obvious: Interpol paid her for that, to find out what had destroyed the satellite. She could have told herself that Robotnik had the same agenda, that he was just serving the American secret service. But nothing to do, despite all her good resolutions, she could not convince herself.

Something else drove him. Something personal.

-I think so. She adds coldly. Torn between her heart and her reason.

Between his obligations and what increasingly seems to belong to a dangerous game. Robotnik freezes, considers her for a moment before running a hand through his hair, checking that his mustache is perfect. There is something incredibly sexy about seeing him heal like this. she thinks.

He grabs his belt and ties it around his waist. Without his coat and tunic, she can easily see the lines of his fine muscles through the fabric of his shirt.

- I'm listening, then.

She looks up at him. The look she gives him would almost cause Robotnik to go back to his sheets, to be consumed again. He can almost see her lips quivering, hesitating, but finally remaining closed. Who are you ? This is the question that burns hertongue. Do you think that by offering me your name I will silence my curiosity? That it will satiate my irrepressible desire to understand? But it stays there, in the back of her throat. Because the spectacle that her offers to her manages despite everything to put out the fire of distrust that still crackles in her heart.

- When all this is over, I will go back to Europe. You know that don't you?

For a brief moment, Robotnik freezes. Is it the hesitation of not finding what he is looking for or the sentence she has just pronounced? Y/N isn't sure. She thinks she sees the night falling in his hazel eyes, but this is probably a lure constructed by her overly romantic imagination. He does not answer. Continues to hastily gather his things, suddenly worried that he hasn't heard from Stone since last night.

Honestly, was he that innocent to think that Stone had just gone out for a drink with the lieutenant? She watches him, waits to see, then gives up. Getting out of bed in turn, she passes in front of him a sheet tied around her body to find refuge in the bathroom.

When she gets out, he will probably be gone to join his assistant and his occupations, everything that happened in this room would end.

The water from her shower slapped her skin as reality slapped her soul. The regrets, the fear, the feeling of having been weak. Again. Y/N didn't regret what had happened, she regretted the strange feeling it left inside her, she who had sworn to herself never to feel anything again, to no longer attach herself, hated the pain that gnawed at her stomach .

He hadn't answered.

Maybe deep down, she would have hoped for just a word. Something that told her that this idea touched him as much as she did. Because that was the reality: she was only there for a lapse of time which, like this strange night, would end one way or another.

She took care to dry herself, to look at her reflection in the mirror without having the impression of recognizing herself, then to put on jeans and a lambda t-shirt before going out, leaving behind her a foggy bathroom.

- Then stay here.

The cavernous voice that rose in her room startled her, and she realized too late that Robotnik's shadow still hovered over her doorstep.

Was it a dream?

She blinked in surprise, hoping he would turn around to face her again, take the doubt out of her and ground her in reality once and for all. But it was as if he refused to do so, as if the idea of looking at her again would definitely make him switch. But switch into what, exactly. Y/N heard the click of her door unlock and the hearth engulf Robotnik before closing immediately behind him, plunging her into a macabre and unreal silence.

He had waited for her to finish to tell her…that?

Stay here.

She giggles, alone in her room trying to hide the echoes of this absurd solution.

Stay here ?

No, she couldn't stay here. It was not his place, it had never been his place. Nowhere. Y/N unconsciously rubbed her eyes for fear of seeing tears appear in them. This bastard definitely had the art of ruining her life to the end, shaking her deepest convictions.

It was no way.

She would never leave Interpol, she would never give up the team she forms with [Lieutenant's name]. Never.

It was then that she understood.

He hadn't just stayed to tell her that. A quick glance at her desk is enough to make her heart beat faster. Her jacket was well and truly on the back of her chair, disorder still reigned all around her, the only witness of the previous night, but something was wrong. A terrible pang gripped her throat.

Something was different.

Walking briskly toward her investigative work, she stared at him like a bird of prey about to swoop down on its prey. Tried to find out what was causing such a state of alert in her, but in vain. Nothing had changed on her board, nothing had changed in her notes. Yet she was convinced that Robotnik had come all the way here. That he had settled down exactly where she was now. Her gaze swept over her makeshift workspace, the photos she had hung on the wall for the slightest change. Then she saw him. The tiny space that proved a drawer had been opened. The delicate rustling of the leather of her jacket, there, at the level of the side pocket.

It was impossible.

He couldn't have done such a thing. However, when she in turn opened the space that seemed to have been searched, a small piece of paper folded in four had replaced the file she had stored there a few days earlier. A small insignificant piece of paper and those few words that had just burst her heart into pieces.

It's time to let the pros do .

#robotnik #ivo robotnik #robotnik fanfiction #doctor robotnik #dr robotnik #fanfiction #jimbotnik #robotnik x reader #agent stone #jimbotnik fanfiction #jimbotnik x reader #sonic movie #sonic fandom

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wearingaberetinparis · 1 year

Note

5, 15 & 19 for the writers asks ☀️

Thank you, @charmsandtealeaves 💕 5. What's a tag you never want to use for your works even when it applies? Oof! That's a tough one! Which tag do I never want to use? I can only think of really controversial ones. I don't think I often shy away from sensitive topics as I do like to explore human flaws. I suppose tags that I really want to shy away from will be things like: Major Character Death. I don't have any desire to write about either James' or Lily's death. Which is possibly a spoiler for people that haven't read my fic no body, no crime.

15. What's your favourite plotless fic you have written? My favourite plotless fic... I had to go through AO3 for that one and I've decided on The Head Girl / Head Boy Handbook to a First Kiss, which only exists due to your fantastic @jilymicrofics, @charmsandtealeaves! That fic is perfectly plotless at 1032 words.

19. Share a snippet from a wip without giving any context for it. You asked for it, so here you go. I'm not even telling you what it's for, because that's what no context means in my opinion.

The end had been unexpected. A fight, a screaming match, accusations thrown back and forth. She hadn’t seen it coming, but now – looking back on it – it seemed inevitable. James Potter and Lily Evans had quite simply never been meant to be. They had ended because she had been cruel. Or because he never put the toilet seat down. Or because she liked pop music, while he preferred rock. Or because her anxiety made her controlling. Or because he worked out at the gym too often. Or because her family didn’t approve of him, while his family loved her a little too much. Or because he liked to spoil her rotten and this made her feel uncomfortable. Or because she once ruined his favourite T-shirt. Or because he would drop everything when one of his brothers called him, her included. Or because she never knew exactly how much milk he liked in his tea. Or because he said I love you first and she made him wait three months before she told him the same. Or because the sex was great and this made her worry that what they had was purely based on beastly magnetism in the bedroom. Or because – just maybe – a relationship that was founded in teenage antagonism was doomed to fail from the start. Or because, well, just because. Whatever the reason might have been – and she suspected her friends only agreed with her here to indulge her and support her in her wallowing, to nurse her shattered heart back to a somewhat healthier state – love was clearly a lie.

#writer ask game #ritaskeetered answers #lovely tumblr people

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celestial-moonlight-domain · 1 year

Text

Welcome to the Looking Glass

🌖 Greetings travelers. I am Moonlight Cookie, the last guardian Wizard of the City of Wizards. I bid you welcome to our Celestial Moonlit Domain through the Looking Glass, for while the City of Wizards may not be accessible to many of the world’s inhabitants, know that we are always keeping vigil from the dreamscapes. Feel free to ask us anything about magic. Wizardry. Dreams. Astronomy. Astrology. Anything your heart desires! If you shall ask, we will try our best to answer.

🌌 Well said. I am Milky Way Moonlight Cookie, the guardian of all dreams’ endless twilight. If you have lost your way in the vast expanse of space and need assistance getting back on track, be not afraid to ask us for help, no matter what dimension you have found yourself in.

🌕 Magnificent as always. I am Moonlight Cookie of the Blissful Full Moon. It matters not the situation you find yourself in. Believe in yourself and others, and a happy ending shall await you under the brilliance of the full moon. Paint a lovely picture with the stars you see within your dreams and always strive for the heavens. Don’t be scared of what lies before you, for I’ll be there to help you through your darkest times whenever you shall ask.

🌙 Hmph. Sappy as always. I am Moonlight Cookie of the Alluring Crescent, and it is my duty to harbor nightmares across the dreamscape in the silence of everyone’s dreams. Go on. Follow the scarlet moonlight. You won’t regret it… much. However, it is my duty to know what entities I use to invoke nightmares in the silence of the night. Should you find any rogue nightmarish entities on the physical place beyond the dreamscape, report them to me at once and I will reward you handsomely. Or better yet, tell me what nightmares and night terrors trouble you and I may try to withhold them… for a more silent night.

☀️ And last but not least, I am Moonlight Cookie of the Primordial Light. As one of the first creations of the Wizards chronicled within the Labyrinth of Remembrance among the other faces of Moonlight, it is also my duty to chronicle the events and memories of Earthbread. Alas, not all memories are set in stone… and possibly not even within this universe. Share your ideas and opinions about the Cookies and events of Earthbread with us. No matter how extraordinary they may be, they are your own treasured memories to share with the world.

And then there’s me, the mod of this blog. Ask the Moonlight Cookies anything you want and I will forward your asks to them, but I have a few things to mention:

I will not answer anything that’s generally NSFW or would make me uncomfortable as the mod OOC

If you’re requesting interaction with me AS another character, make it known in your asks/reblogs/mentions

Feel free to ask me anything as the mod! Just mention that you’re asking the mod so I know this is something out of character

This is a no-leak zone. While this blog is about Cookie Run, leaks for any of the games in the series will NOT be addressed to any extent

Whether for the Moonlights or for the mod, Cookie Run headcanons, OCs, AU concepts, and questions about them are always welcome to be shared on the blog!

Some posts and responses might refer to an OC, AU, or personal headcanon of mine. Any ideas that I have or might share with someone else will be tagged as such and explained as necessary

If you’re anon-asking, while not necessary, feel free to refer to yourself by an anonymous nickname so I know who my regulars are!

While there are multiple characters here, there is only one mod running the blog, so please be patient if I don’t answer right away!

Have fun and enjoy your time here!

Cookie Run spoilers may be discussed here. Any spoilers mentioned, either by gameplay or lore, will be separated by a line break (:readmore:) and tagged as #cookie run lore spoilers or #cookie run gameplay spoilers

More Cookies may appear in the future to answer questions, so stay tuned!

#cookie run #city of wizards #moonlight cookie #milky way #blissful full moon #alluring crescent #primordial light #first post #asks open

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polskasroka · 2 days

Text

Distraction | Chapter 2

Here's chapter 2 of my Mel/Od fic, hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Melinoë/Odysseus

Tags: Older Man/Younger Woman, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Pining, Romance, Eventual Romance, Self-Doubt, Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Spoilers, Written During Hades II (Supergiant Video Game) Early Access, Character Study, mel is a tough gal overall, but she has her weaker moments, Denial of Feelings, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Kissing

AO3 link

Or Chapter 2 (6166 words) under Read More

In spite of Aphrodite’s straightforward advice, it seems that Melinoë’s chickened out, without wanting to admit it to herself. Yes, she smiled once she saw that her plants had been watered each time she had no time to do so and she indeed felt her heart soar, knowing that Odysseus doesn’t mind that additional chore that he chooses to fulfil more often than not.

Maybe Melinoë should’ve gone for it immediately after her conversation with Aphrodite. Maybe she should’ve thought about herself and her own feelings towards others. Maybe if she’d done it, she wouldn’t end up with a growing need of feeling close to someone.

Of course, she is close with everyone in the Crossroads. But it’s not that kind of close that she’d like. There is that desire to be close to someone emotionally, to feel attached to someone that Melinoë isn’t sure how to deal with. Apart from that, she’d also like to be able to just hug someone, without others looking at her funny or them giving it too much thought. It’s been a while since she’s fallen into someone’s safe embrace and she’s now longing just for that and it may be clouding her resolve and reflexes while traversing Oceanus. Is this the little distraction that Aphrodite was talking about?

It is a bit of a hindrance, yes, but Melinoë reaches Tartarus anyway. Even those coin bags that Melinoë simply despises are manageable and after beating at least twenty of them, she pays a visit to the Titan once more. The hate that she holds towards him obscures any distractions that may have been lurking in Melinoë’s mind during this run. But oh, Chronos has his servants and they have provided him with information that he will use against Melinoë anytime there is an opportunity to do so.

“I thought you would’ve got here sooner than that. After all these attempts, you seem to be slower and less precise in all your actions down here today,” he announces with superiority in his voice that lowers at the last three words he utters.

“Maybe it’s all those satyrs of yours that aren’t fast enough to provide you with the news,” Melinoë quips, determined.

“I might consider taking your advice this time. Perhaps, I will do some cleaning up among my units, since they have been failing me. So observant… Would you care to join me?”

“Never. Dream on, Chronos.” The Princess narrows her eyes and readies Descura for the attack.

“I shall do just that. Beware, for my dreams shall become your nightmares. A humble gift from me to you, granddaughter.”

Chronos’ voice stings and seeps through the skin and flows through the bones like venom that seems impossible to remove once it enters the body. But there is no way that Melinoë will let it all get to her – she’s heard many a rambling and belittling of the sort to let it affect her at this point. Now, it is only a matter of whether she will conquer Time himself or not.

And it occurs that it is yet another futile attempt at beating Chronos. With the last strike of his scythe, he forces Melinoë to return to shadow, his sick laughter resonating in her head, following her to the realm of her dreams where she the least wants anything that reminds her of Chronos.

Time doesn’t relent, though, and keeps tracing each step that Melinoë makes in her sleep. His voice keeps echoing somewhere near and somewhere far from the Princess at the same time and Melinoë can’t run away from it, no matter where she hides in the void of her own slumber. Even when it feels like there’s a moment of rest, the haunting tone of Chronos comes back, reverberating in the abyss, making Melinoë wish she could wake up.

That voice is soon accompanied by occasional wails and screams, all indiscernible at first. They mix with one another, only to become clearer the further into torment Melinoë is lead. The yells are spurred on by the Titan’s demands to reveal the hiding spot of Melinoë’s, to tell her and Hecate’s whereabouts but there’s no answer. And when there’s no answer, the disarrayed yells filled with pain are heard.

Chronos allows Melinoë to know that it’s her father’s laments. It doesn’t take long before she has tears in her eyes. While torturing Hades, Chronos doesn’t hesitate to drill himself into Melinoë’s conscience, blaming her for all that’s happening to her father and the rest of her family. He blames her for cowering in the Crossroads while everything else around her is going to hell.

You keep failing, little one. What hope is there for you to fulfil your task now that I’ve showed you how much of a disappointment you are? Doing all this in vain, only to learn that I am the one in control of everything. You cannot stop me. You cannot stop Time.

Come, granddaughter. Come and surrender. Come and join me, and I shall free your family. That’s a fair trade, is it not?

Melinoë bolts upright, sitting straight as a shocked gasp leaves her lungs.

“I’ll show you a fair trade, Chronos,” she growls and stands up in one rapid move, wiping her eyes to get rid of the tears that are streaming down her face.

In a couple of long strides, Melinoë is out of her tent and headed to the training ground, passing the now silent and sleep-veiled centre of the Crossroads. She’s glad that there is no one to stand in her way, even the Commander is not there.

Melinoë picks a weapon for this attempt – Zorephet. She dearly hopes that this will be the arm that will help her fight Chronos and beat him to a pulp, so that he remembers that no one messes with Melinoë or her family.

From the outside, it looks like the Princess is in a frenzy and she… somewhat is. Driven by the nightmarish images that she’s just been a witness to, she has this unstoppable urge to rush through Erebus, Oceanus, the Fields of Mourning and Tartarus to get straight to Chronos and end this stupid war once and for all.

For the first time in her life, it seems to her that she can do it. Melinoë is so fuelled by rage now that there’s no possibility for anything or anyone to stand in her way and prevent her from diving into the depths of the world and slaying the Titan. This is her ultimate aim, this is her task that she’s been preparing for her whole life and she’s going to achieve the goal right now.

At least, that’s what Melinoë thinks she’s going to do. Dragging Zorephet with herself, she marches on to the entrance to the woods, ignoring the familiar voice calling after her. It is only when the voice resounds once more right behind her and a hand grips her wrist that Melinoë halts and turns around to see what the fuss is all for.

“What do you want? I don’t have time,” Melinoë huffs, searching Odysseus’ face with her glassy eyes all frantically, afraid that she’ll be late for something if she stays in the Crossroads a second longer.

“You shouldn’t go there now, Goddess. Not in this state,” Odysseus says with all seriousness, trying to catch up with Melinoë’s wild stare.

“There’s nothing wrong with me, Od. When if not now? I finally feel like I… like I can do it! Like this is the night when all this mess will be put to an end!” Melinoë pulls her hand to herself in an attempt to free herself from the man’s hold but it’s of no use and it frustrates her to the core.

“Have you forgotten what Lady Hecate has taught you? Don’t tell me that I, out of everyone, have to remind you not to act on an impulse,” Odysseus states firmly but there’s nothing mean about it. If anything, his words are packed with concern for the Princess.

“You don’t know how it is. She doesn’t know how it is. I have lost my family and I have to save them. I have to go there now! There won’t be a better chance anytime soon, so let me go!” Melinoë drops Zorephet’s handle and something inside of her stings, as if the weapon has just let her know that it doesn’t like this ridiculous idea of not seizing the opportunity as well.

Melinoë uses her free hand to pry her captured wrist free but Odysseus doesn’t loosen his vice-like grip. It makes Melinoë boil and she grunts and digs her nails into the man’s hand but it results in nothing successful. Quite the opposite – Melinoë’s other hand is now held by the wrist too and she’s forced to face Odysseus and look him in the eye, whether she likes it or not.

There’s fury in her mismatched eyes and that’s clear for both of them. But the white-hot anger is hiding something else beneath – it’s hiding great fear, one that sprang out and evolved into full bloom in Melinoë’s nightmare and has remained with her ever since. Odysseus has known the Goddess for long enough to notice that and be aware that it’ll soon pass and Melinoë won’t go anywhere. She’ll come to understand it in a moment too.

“You know I’m stronger than you,” Melinoë goes on with her little tirade, despite her voice shaking more and more and her feral resolve breaking piece by piece. “You know that I can just push you away and you’ll stand no chance against me, Od!” she yells into his face, all desperate, her rage-powered cover crumbling down. “I’m a Goddess, I’m going there and I’ll kill Chronos because it’s my family that needs me, because it’s my task, it’s what I’ve been training so long and hard for and I can’t let it go to waste now, Od, imagine what Headmistress would say if I just…” Melinoë hiccups and she gives in to Odysseus’ strength.

A sob rips out of her throat and she grows limp, so that Odysseus releases her wrists and wraps his arms around her to safely sit down on the ground with her. Melinoë curls up and presses her face into his shoulder, sniffling and going on about her task mindlessly.

“I can’t let this chance slip through my hands, I’m the closest to beating Chronos than I’ve ever been, I can’t disappoint everyone again, I…”

“You’re not disappointing anyone,” Odysseus speaks evenly and gently, rubbing Melinoë’s back with his hand in a soothing manner. “Who told you that?”

Melinoë squeezes her eyes shut but tears manage to roll down her cheeks regardless. At the same time, she’s trying to calm down, focusing on the grounding presence of Odysseus and his hand spreading warmth over her back.

“Chronos,” she finally confesses and then chokes on a sob that nearly breaks Odysseus’ heart. “He haunts my dreams, showing me visions of my father and all the terrible things that he’s been doing to him.”

“Don’t believe that bastard, Goddess. He’s doing all he can to trick you into self-doubt. But you’re better than that and you won’t fall for that, aye?”

“Aye, sir,” Melinoë agrees and swallows a big gulp down her throat.

Satisfied and more at peace, Odysseus presses Melinoë closer to himself, providing her with all the comfort that he can give her. And it’s working. Despite the Princess feeling more than horrible about everything that has just transpired, she clings onto the tactician, focusing on her own breathing to match it with his even one. She’s also ashamed of her outburst but she can’t really do anything about it, can she?

As if reading her mind, Odysseus speaks again, “promise me one thing, Goddess. You won’t blame yourself for all that’s happened just now. You already have a lot on your plate, you don’t need to add anything to that.”

“I promise,” Melinoë swears with a slight nod of her head.

“Melinoë. Odysseus,” says a distinct and kind voice from behind the two.

“Madam,” Odysseus greets back, now looking at the Witch who’s joined them.

“Headmistress?” asks the Princess in a raspy voice, peeking over the tactician’s shoulder.

Melinoë is the first one to stand up and the man follows her. He doesn’t leave her side when they approach Hecate, keeping his arm over Melinoë’s shoulder in a protective and reassuring way. The Princess is grateful for that as well as for Hecate’s arrival.

“I didn’t want to disturb, since you’ve handled the crisis so well, Odysseus. Truly admirable.”

“I’ve done what had to be done, madam. Besides, I couldn’t leave your student in such a miserable state, now could I?”

“Certainly not. And you yourself know it well that it’s rather unwise to act on one’s instincts. In fact, Melinoë surely knows that too, especially after seeing Cerberus in the Fields of Mourning.”

“When driven by his instincts and utter woe, he’s something I’d never like to become,” Melinoë manages a small laughter, which earns her a slight squeeze on her shoulder. “Otherwise, he’s a good dog.”

Melinoë’s innocent shrug elicits a chuckle from both Hecate and Odysseus.

“Now, Melinoë. Please, come with me and let me shield your dreams from Chronos for the rest of your sleep today. I think I know just the thing. I shall teach you this spell, so that you can cast it yourself and fight our enemy off even in your dreams.”

“Thank you, Headmistress.”

Hecate walks in front of Melinoë and Odysseus as they return to the centre of the Crossroads. The Witch then heads to the Goddess’ tent and announces that she’ll wait there for her if she wants to exchange a word or two with Odysseus.

“Thank you, sir,” Melinoë says softly and a bit sleepily as they pull away from each other.

“No need for that, Goddess. I’m glad I could help.” Odysseus remains humble, a hopeful smile on his face.

“I’ll get you another bottle of nectar tomorrow. Then, we’ll be even.”

“If you insist, I won’t say no. Now, go back to sleep and bring someone around here a nightmare. It always helps you, aye?”

“Aye.” The smile on Melinoë’s own lips is wide before she and Odysseus go their separate ways.

All this time, Melinoë has thought that her nightmares can’t be remedied but Hecate has decided to prover her wrong. The Titaness only resorts to it when the nightmares are becoming too vivid and too realistic, for she doesn’t want to interfere with Melinoë’s nature, she explains.

In fact, Hecate has used such spells on Melinoë when the goddess was younger. It was years ago and Melinoë understands why she doesn’t recall ever being under the influence of sleep spells. She was too young to remember.

Melinoë doesn’t evoke any nightmare that she knows about this time. It’s as if the sleep’s void has consumed her for the rest of her slumber and she’s been embraced by its tranquillity until she completely woke up.

Although she has tried hard to change it, she’s still embarrassed because of her nocturnal activities. Alright, she’s always had troubles with peaceful sleep but she doesn’t have to run around and rouse everyone because Chronos doesn’t let her relax. And he’s not going to. Melinoë knows that the Titan will keep invading her mind anytime he has a chance to do so and she’s going to learn how to push him out of there. He doesn’t belong anywhere near Melinoë’s mind.

But that’s a task for later. For now, Melinoë’s lying in, contemplating the recent events. What she discovers seems suddenly even more embarrassing than waking Hecate and Odysseus up so abruptly. Namely, Melinoë clearly remembers the pang of loss that she felt when she no longer was in the tactician’s embrace. Immediately, she reminds herself about the talk with Aphrodite and it makes her wonder if she’s not talking herself into believing that yes, she needs affection – both physical and emotional at that.

And oh, praise the Fates! Melinoë received both.

When Melinoë allows herself all these emotions, they appear addictive. Once she goes back to the memory of how close to Odysseus she was a couple of hours ago, goosebumps rise on her skin and she wants the ground to swallow her up. Whether it’s all Aphrodite’s doing stops being all that important because Melinoë would like to spend some time with the tactician again. But she’s aware that since she was able to sleep so soundly thanks to Hecate, she can’t waste this energy for pastime now, despite the fact how rewarding it could be.

She will indulge herself in that once she has a spare moment, though. Definitely.

“Hey, haven’t seen you sleep in like that for a long time,” Dora emerges out of nowhere, startling Melinoë.

“Dora!” the Princess scolds her and sits up. The shade shrugs.

“All I’m saying is that you’ve finally done that. Congrats! You can’t just… you know, rush out of here, ready to beat the old Titan’s ass. Kinda unhealthy.”

“What are you trying to say?” Melinoë wonders, raising an eyebrow.

“What I mean is that you really should rest more. Talk to other shades perhaps. I’ve done that. Was more fun than I’d thought. Thanks, Mel.”

“So I should just listen to my own advice, then, huh?”

“Yep. Go hang out with the Big Witch or the horned guy. He’s cool.”

“You two have been getting on well, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, you could say so. Come join us sometime. Our talks might entertain you. Just unwind a bit more is what I’m saying. Got it, Mel?”

“Got it.”

But that’s for when Melinoë has less energy. Now, she really can’t waste it, so she doesn’t waste time anymore and she’s promptly off and heading to the forest. However, something or someone catches her eye. There’s also some kind of a special atmosphere that’s radiating from Odysseus himself and it’s nothing else but tiredness caused by a nightmare that he must’ve had very recently.

It immediately stops Melinoë’s stride and she feels a wave of guilt wash over her. She realises that Odysseus asked her to give someone a nightmare to feel better but–

“Goddess, I know I don’t look the best today but is that a reason to be staring at me?” he startles Melinoë with his question that’s super playful for someone who’s got bags under his eyes.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to… I pondered off.” She walks over to the shade and averts her gaze, worrying about Odysseus and his sleep. “Od, I know you don’t like it when I apologise for giving any of you nightmares but…”

“Aren’t you a stubborn gal, eh?” He leans against his desk and folds his arms.

“Maybe so. It’s just difficult not to care. I bet you know the feeling.”

“That I do. Speaking of which, did you sleep well after that, erm…”

“Incident?”

“Accident.”

“Alright. Accident. Yes, Od. Frankly, I haven’t slept so well in a while. It wouldn’t be possible without Hecate’s spell and, well, my nature getting out of hand, apparently.”

Melinoë sighs and looks down, which makes Odysseus lay a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“I know I’m trying to slay a titan on my own but… You shouldn’t be getting any collateral damage anyway.” Melinoë shrugs and peeks up at Odysseus uncertainly.

“We all knew what we signed up for, Goddess. We can handle it. Trust me.”

“You’ve handled worse is what you’re trying to say, right?”

“Aye. You’re a quick learner, as always.”

“Except for the bow?” Melinoë sniggers briefly.

“Except for the bow.”

It is quite amazing to think that after such a nightmare, Melinoë has managed to slay the Titan. She doesn’t go boasting that much about it but it’s clear to everyone that she’s proud of herself – rightfully so. She receives praise from Hecate and that matters a lot to the Princess but it doesn't mean that Melinoë will rest on her laurels. There’s still much to learn and practise, so that one day Chronos will be beaten for good. Melinoë knows that such a day will come eventually, especially when she’s aware of her power and capability of getting rid of the Titan.

The event boosts her confidence to a great degree and she doesn’t hesitate to try and fight Chronos once again. The next run, however, is not as successful and she falls to Cerberus this time. For some reason, this failure doesn’t sting as much as it probably should. It’s likely that it’s caused by the fact that Melinoë does sympathise with the poor dog and she fights him only because she wants to help him. Perhaps she should look for an incantation that would permanently shield him from the sorrow that’s omnipresent in the Fields of Mourning.

Melinoë would also gladly come up with something that would keep Chronos’ minions away from Cerberus but this may take quite a while.

For now, though, the Goddess is sat at the bank of Cocytus, watching the constant flow of the river and the occasional ripples in the water. Sometimes, she even catches a glimpse of a fish playing in the tide. The sight and the sounds soothe her and help her zone out which is highly needed after a day of hard work. After all, it’s not only the physical aspect that’s taking a toll on Melinoë – when all the emotions ebb away, the Princess often feels like falling asleep.

The rhythmical sound of steps approaching her keeps her awake, though. If she doesn’t get herself together, the visions of the one who’s joined her at the river bank might keep her awake at night and that’s something she shouldn’t afford. Not now.

“Goddess.”

“Odysseus!” Melinoë’s face lights up. “What brings you here?”

“I reckon that the nectar you’ve kindly gifted me with tastes better when shared with someone.”

“You don’t have to!”

“In fact, I do,” he says jovially. “Considering today’s events, we’ve something to celebrate.”

“Are you suggesting a feast? Here? In the Crossroads?” Melinoë asks in disbelief and amusement.

“Just a little one. Not sure if Olympus would approve of that but…”

“They’re not here, are they?” A smile doesn’t leave Melinoë’s face and it only makes one linger on Odysseus’ face as well. “Besides, this is our place. We feast here as we see fit.”

“Impossible to disagree with that, Goddess.”

After that, Odysseus opens the bottle of nectar and is about to pour it into two cups but Melinoë deems it unnecessary and a tad too stiff. The man doesn’t mind and happily hands the Princess the bottle from which she takes a not-so-modest gulp. She then passes it back to Odysseus, who drinks from it too.

It’s only a matter of seconds until the topic drifts from the victory against Chronos to the tales about Odysseus’ journey. They have spoken about it a million times but Melinoë thinks that each time she hears these stories, a new detail emerges, one that she hasn’t heard of before, and this is what makes the tales fascinating even after all these years. Melinoë probably knows them all by heart now but it changes nothing.

Apart from that, she also enjoys the way Odysseus tells his stories. Enthralling as always and Melinoë can’t take her eyes and ears off of him.

Attention flatters him and attention from a witch who’s also a goddess flatters him twice as much. He just can’t help it. It’s possible that everyone in the Crossroads knows that already (Moros and Hecate certainly do) but Melinoë sees nothing wrong with that. Especially not when the nectar bottle becomes half-empty sooner than she thought it would.

“You really wouldn’t like to hear that wailing of Scylla’s, you can trust me on that,” Melinoë claims, chuckling softly when they’ve reached that part of the tales.

“Curiosity killed the cat, Goddess,” Odysseus laughs lowly himself and takes another swig from the bottle.

“You can go with me next time if you want. You’ll just have to survive every wretch I come across before we reach Scylla and the Sirens. And don’t forget Headmistress!”

“What do I have my scout-shades for, then, eh?”

“Are they there, in the audience, watching me fight those noisy creatures?” Melinoë wonders and snatches the bottle from Odysseus to have a large sip of nectar.

“Some of them.”

“Always keeping an eye on me, aren’t you? Is that your idea or Headmistress’?

“Neither’s, Goddess. We trust in your skills out there, whether it’s Erebus, Oceanus, the Fields or Tartarus. And the shades… The shades are just doing their work.” Odysseus ends his statement in such a way, that Melinoë immediately knows that there’s something more that he wanted to add.

“But?” she asks, silently mourning the little amount of nectar left.

Odysseus sighs and then answers, “but it’s good to know that you handle it all out there as well as you do. It’s something that does make me and Lady Hecate proud of you. Don’t know about Nemesis, though.”

“Thank you.” Melinoë’s cheeks flush with a pale pink hue. “And when it comes to Nemesis – she’s the opposite, I assure you. I sometimes wish she weren’t and I’m trying to get through to her but all my efforts seem futile.”

“It takes two, no matter the relationship, Goddess. You can’t force her to like you,” Odysseus states matter-of-factly.

“At least, she tolerates me. That’s a start, I guess.” Melinoë shrugs, staring at the river.

She shakes the almost empty bottle in her hand and offers it to Odysseus but he kindly refuses and tells her to down the thing. That cheers the Goddess up after the brief talk about Nemesis and she drinks the leftover nectar until there’s no more of that in the bottle. She puts it on the grass beside her and soon finds that she’s got nothing to do with her hands.

Normally, Melinoë would embrace her knees in a spot like this but she knows it may look as if she doesn’t want to talk or open up to her companion. That’s something she doesn’t want at all, so she slumps her shoulders and sighs, now inspecting her phantasmal arm. She’s aware that as she wrings her hands and wrists, Odysseus is watching her from the corner of his eye.

There’s silence between the two and it’s a rather comfortable one. Melinoë and Odysseus are simply enjoying each other’s company and the blissful effect that the nectar’s put on them – slight light-headedness and a rising want and courage to do something, anything. Preferably, something out of the ordinary and maybe somewhat against the custom.

By some miracle, Odysseus has been keeping himself in check the whole evening and he’s unashamedly proud of his own self because of that. Melinoë, however, has been suffering from various thoughts racing in her mind, encouraging her to act on the emotions that the nectar has seemingly uncovered or released.

It’s like her hands are itching to just act but it actually doesn’t matter what part or parts of her body the Goddess engages in whatever activity she’ll see fit.

Then, Melinoë decides that it’s high time she took Aphrodite’s advice to heart and let her divine nature reign for a while or two. She’s a goddess after all and she will not hide behind inhibitions that a mortal could have.

Thus, all unceremoniously, Melinoë leans her head against Odysseus’ shoulder, which causes him to freeze and halt whatever he’s been thinking about until now. It makes Melinoë stop any movements for a second as well and reconsider whether it was a wise choice. She did this with Icarus, after they’d got to know one another, and he didn’t mind. But he didn’t mind many things; in fact, he enjoyed them. They both did.

But Odysseus is not Icarus and Melinoë can’t let herself forget that.

“Please, do tell if I’ve overstepped–” Melinoë may have no inhibitions but she will still be polite.

“No… No, you haven’t, Goddess, I… I just wasn’t expecting that,” Odysseus admits in a startled but happy tone, his form becoming relaxed once more.

“I’ll warn you next time.”

“I don’t mind a pleasant surprise.”

The warmth in his voice puts a smile onto Melinoë’s lips. She also lets her eyes close as she tunes in to the sound of the water flowing so close to her and the deep breathing of Odysseus’. Those things could easily lull her to sleep but Melinoë isn’t sparing that a single thought, for she’s already plotting what else she could do to entertain herself on this fine evening seasoned with at least half a bottle of nectar. She indeed thinks that she drank more than Odysseus did.

A moment later, Melinoë is boring a hole in Odysseus’ profile with her gazing. The nectar is surely doing its work on her as she doesn’t let her eyes fall off the man beside her. Of course, Melinoë notices the smirk and hears the huffed out chuckle that has Odysseus’ shoulders shake slightly.

“What’s so funny?” she asks innocently.

“You’re beaming with mischief, Goddess. I don’t have to look to know that you’re plotting something against me and I can’t seem to put my finger on what it could be no matter how hard I try.”

“Maybe you should try harder. And how can you know that it’s you, out of all people, that I’m plotting against? How can you be sure that I’m not inventing new ways of how to fight Chronos? Or at least bother him significantly?” Melinoë tilts her head slightly, scanning Odysseus’ profile with her curious mismatched eyes that always land back on the man’s smug smile.

“One learns to recognise it after years of experience.”

Melinoë rolls her eyes at that but she doesn’t mean anything unkind. She’s generally amused by the whole exchange and the way Odysseus looks like he wants to make a move but is convinced that it’s going to earn him a curse. So, Melinoë makes a decision for him and allows herself to lean in closer and plant a quick and soft kiss on Odysseus’ cheek.

As she pulls back, the corners of her lips rise once again and she searches the tactician’s expression for any clues as to how he’s feeling about what the Goddess has just done. There is that calm satisfaction there that serves as a mere cover for the hammering of his heart and the racing thoughts in his head.

Melinoë may not realise that she’s just caused some part of Odysseus’ resolve to shatter.

Once he moves to face her properly, she quickly turns her head away in mock-timidness. Yet, what she can’t hide is the blush that’s spread from her cheeks down to her neck and bare shoulders – something that doesn’t escape Odysseus’ notice. The sight of an allegedly bashful goddess has him swallow and exhale slowly; the latter mostly to compose himself.

“Will the years of experience help you now?” Melinoë wonders, her tone laced with more playfulness than she expected.

“Only if you let them, Goddess. If you let me.”

Melinoë can’t say no to that low tone, so she spins her head around to find that Odysseus is closer to her than she imagined. She feels her cheeks burn and she grabs the hem of her chiton between her fingers as Odysseus places one of his hands behind her, on the grass. Melinoë almost doesn’t know where to look anymore, her own heart racing when she wills herself to meet Odysseus’ gaze.

And a little nod of her head tells him everything that he wants to know.

He doesn’t have to wait any longer, so he leans in to kiss the Goddess properly but ends up pressing his lips to the corner of hers when she’s moved ever so slightly. Yet, it’s enough to make Odysseus let out the quietest groan of disappointment mixed with endless determination to woo every witch he encounters.

“Sorry,” Melinoë whispers, glancing to the side, crumpling up the fabric in her slender hands.

“No harm done. Tell me to stop if that’s what you wish,” Odysseus muses against her skin, making the Princess dizzy with his breath that’s warm – unnaturally so for a shade.

The last time she’d been so close with anyone was years ago and she now realises how much she’s missed all the feelings and flutterings of heart connected with such activities.

“It’s just… The shades, they’re looking at us. They’re going to talk and soon the whole Crossroads will–”

“Does it matter? You’re a goddess, so those shades should be of no import to you when it comes to your pastime.”

Melinoë knows that the way he murmurs those words to her is going to be the end of her. It’s as if she can’t think straight and it scares and excites her all at once.

“You’re right,” she decides, biting down on her lower lip as Odysseus hums in approval and moves on to leave a trail of butterfly kisses on her cheek and up to her ear. “Maybe we should give them a little show?” Melinoë even manages out of her lungs that are too busy trying to level her breathing to care about some redundant waste of air.

The suggestion pulls a chuckle out of Odysseus and Melinoë closes her eyes to enjoy the sound to the fullest. She then lets out a shaky exhale and revels in how the man so close to her plants kisses on the shell of her ear and then nibbles on her earlobe only to return down the pale skin of her cheek to where he started. It does draw Melinoë’s attention back to him being so near in front of her again and she lets her eyes flicker open to meet his, lidded with careful but still avid adoration.

“Goddess…” he rasps out with nothing but reverence in his voice.

“Od…” she breathes and tilts her head to finally seal their lips together.

Only then does Melinoë learn that she has indeed missed this. Greatly.

It’s not rushed and this is exactly how Melinoë likes it. She’s actually in control here and she’s well aware of that. One word, one flick of her fingers and Odysseus could be gone or at least severely cursed but she would never ever do that. Not after being shown how delicate and passionate this man can be in the art of kissing.

Melinoë shifts in her spot a little, still holding the hem of her chiton but it changes once Odysseus lays his other hand on the other side of her face. His palm is warm but it’s nothing in comparison to the feverish flush of the Goddess’ skin.

The Princess relishes having her cheek cradled like this and she can’t help it but put one of her hands atop Odysseus’. She only squeezes it a tad when he nips at her lip and she can’t be bothered by the fact that it drags a soft whimper out of her mouth. But Odysseus is there to swallow it and store it in his memory for later.

A moment after that, a dissatisfied grunt can be heard and it belongs to Melinoë who chases Odysseus’ lips once he’s broken the kiss.

“Od…” Melinoë whines silently, leaning into the hand that’s still cupping her cheek. She looks at him with her shining mismatched eyes and a little frown, and it takes his whole strong will to put this thing to a halt. For now.

“If you’re not going to curse me, then Lady Hecate or Nemesis will if I keep you here any minute longer. You know how annoying our dear Retribution can be when someone tells her that you’ve allowed yourself a moment of rest, aye?”

Not the best reasoning by his standards but it should do.

“Aye, sir.”

She says it so lightly, out of habit and politeness. She can’t imagine what that short word is doing to Odysseus in a situation like this (it surely makes him forget his crappy excuse from a second earlier).

“Good.” Odysseus moves away but before any physical contact is lost between them, he rubs Melinoë’s skin with his thumb and then holds her hand for a while or two. After all, he won’t refuse a goddess who’s intertwined her own fingers with his. “Now go and take some real rest, Goddess. You need it.”

“I wish you were wrong sometimes, Od.” She gives his hand a squeeze and then lets it go. “Would you… mind repeating it one evening?” she asks almost too straightforwardly.

“By no means. As long as you’re interested, so am I.”

Melinoë sends him a warm smile that he reciprocates.

“But, are you really sure that I won’t curse you?”

“I’ll take my chances.”

#hades 2 #hades 2 fanfic #melinoe #odysseus #hades melinoe #hades odysseus

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