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onlyswan · 3 months

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summary: in which you sacrifice your strawberries and eyelash wishes for the boy knocking at your door.

idol!jungkook x reader, strangers to friends (?) to lovers / fluff and a pinch of angst / word count: 5.5k

content/warnings: allusions to death and grief / jungkook is a cutie patootie and a blushing hopeless romantic mess / he wants to kiss oc so bad (me too bro) / oc is a sunshine <3 / they do chores and watch movies together :((( / in one scene he was worried oc would think of him as a perv lmao / they’re dorks and i love them / seokjin cameo hehehe

> in which masterlist!

note: to make up for the pain i may have caused and will cause <3 LOL. i hope you enjoy reading as much as i enjoyed writing :D as always reblogs and feedback are appreciated! come chat w me. ily 🌼

—

“it’s so cold,” you mutter through chattering teeth.

the grocery bags sit on the hardwood table with a thud— the careless bringer too hasty. you shove your icy hands in the deep pockets of your jacket, breathing in and out with a sense of relief.

you are not granted the mundane euphoria for much longer, however. the doorbell rings and you are padding across the floor against your will. the cold air hits your face before it enters your apartment.

however, the happy smile that greets you blankets your heart with a type of warmth that is difficult to describe.

if you had to guess who was behind the door, you wouldn’t say the boy you’ve been fiercely pining over for the past month, but it is certainly who you’d be hoping for regardless.

“good morning!”

“oh! wait there for a moment!”

jungkook stands motionless by your open front door as you disappear into your apartment. confusion accompanied by curiosity, he tries poking his head inside, but then decides that he shouldn’t.

upon your return, his face lights up again.

“here you go!”

he accepts the jar of honey faster than he could think.

“w-why are you-?”

you tilt your head, lips forming a small pout. “isn’t that what you’re here for?”

“uh, actually-” he awkwardly pauses, hand that carries the heavy paper bag behind him suddenly feeling weak. “i came here to give you something.”

your eyes animatedly expand in surprise of the size of it, not at all expecting to receive a gift from him today. you do know that he’s fresh from japan, as you converse on the phone almost everyday… why would he come here almost immediately? and didn’t he say they weren’t given the chance to roam the city because of their work schedule?

“i just grabbed things i thought you might like. i hope i got most of them right?” he explains with a nervous chuckle as you take a look inside.

a diverse array of snacks; a beautiful journal painted with cherry blossoms; a hello kitty plushie; stickers, muji pens…

“oh my god, jungkook… these are too much. you didn’t have to.”

oh, curse the hopeless fluttering of your heart.

“wow, gifting your merch- that’s real idol behavior for you.” you tease him, referring to the hooded jacket that has their group logo on its plastic packaging. “thank you!”

“no but it seriously warms you up! i have one too!”

“jungkook, why are you so cute?!”

“ah, shut up! i’m getting embarrassed!” he whines, blushing. “just look at them later after i leave, how about that?”

“let go! it’s mine!” you glare at him, hugging the paper bag to your chest to deny his advances on snatching it away. “are you not leaving? don’t you have work?”

“i told you— it’s my rest day.”

“you did?”

“while we were texting last night.”

“oh,” you blink. “i don’t remember reading that.”

“you? what are you doing today?”

you bite back the smile threatening to give away the thoughts running in your mind a thousand miles per hour. why does he want to know?

“nothing special. just chores the entire day.”

jungkook puts his hand inside the pocket of his coat, an attempt to appear casual as he offers you his valiant effort. “do you want some help? i’m good at doing chores.”

you stare at him, perplexed, as if he just said the most ridiculous sentence you’ve ever heard in your entire life.

“it’s your rest day and you want to do chores?”

“sure,” he grins playfully, not at all seeing how that could be wrong. “why not?”

“you know…” you pause— observing his expression, considering shutting your mouth, but that plan rarely ever works out. “you can just say that you want to spend time with me, right?”

your bluntness sends his heart racing. you’re a danger to his health.

he sinks his perfect teeth on his bottom lip, bringing his dimples into view. to be honest, you didn’t always have a thing about dimples. you didn’t consider them all that special. but why do they make him look cute and sexy at the same time?

his cheeks become tinted with a pale scarlet. you’re wearing that friendly beam again; he doesn’t know how to act. he never knows whether you are joking or not.

“well, now i know.”

—

jungkook sets down the jar of honey on the table as he settles in the living room, fascinated doe eyes darting around every inch of your place. it’s not his first time here, but somehow, it looks different each time. the two frames hanging above the sofa captures his attention all over again, colorful drawings against the plain white wall. gifted to you by your siblings, you said.

a tall castle with a happy family. a little boy slaying a dragon to protect a princess from its savage fire.

he is blissfully unaware of the knowledge that the drawings are the lone survivors of a school bus and a tragedy. you want it to stay that way. you want people to feel the opposite of the sadness you feel when you look at them. that is how you seek your peace.

“are you wearing toe socks?”

“huh?” he makes a sound of confusion, only processing your question upon seeing your gaze trained to his feet. “ah- toe socks- yes.”

“i’m only noticing them now. they look funny.” you scrunch your nose, chuckling.

“don’t laugh! they’re so comfortable!”

“really?” your eyes widen with genuine interest. “i should try them then.”

“yeah, you should!”

he whips his head around as he jokingly voices out an observation.

“but ____, your house kind of looks different today… it’s almost like it’s cleaner than the last time i was here.”

you bury your face in your hands with a high-pitched wine, hiding from him in humiliation. you did not plan on inviting someone over that night, and he had to watch you run around organizing and picking up things— the scattered books all over the table and the floor; the jackets that have created a big heap on the small couch; the jewelry box that ended up on the dining table for some reason.

he laughs in endearment, unable to take his eyes from you. even the way your hair bounces as you furiously shake your head is pretty. wait, does that sound weird?

“that’s right, it should look different! the first thing i did when winter break started was clean up my mess.”

“what’s the first chore on the list then?” he catches the grocery bags in the kitchen from his peripheral. “were you putting away your groceries?”

“you really want to do chores? you don’t want to watch a movie or something?”

“aigoo, it’s fine!” he waves off your reluctance. “stop worrying! i already said i’d help you.”

“but it’s embarrassing…”

it’s either jungkook is denying your advances or he is simply dense. but the fact that he showed up at your door unannounced on his day-off despite complaining about his exhaustion from their hectic work schedule, you want to lean towards the latter and believe that he is… as good at chores like he claims to be.

“you must like fruits a lot.” jungkook comments as he is squatted infront of your fridge, sheltering the freshly bought perishables one by one.

kimchi, lettuce, strawberries, tangerines, shine muscat, apples…

this is an entirely different world through your lens.

it feels strange to watch another person restock your fridge for you.

“they’re easy to eat and i’m lazy to cook.”

he chuckles as he looks back at you, who is sat on the dining table, airy and carefree as you snack on a bag of assorted chocolates from the paper bag he brought. almost all of the white chocolates are gone, he notes.

“not because they’re nutritious?”

“that’s the bonus!”

“what is this?”

“cranberry juice.”

“and this?”

“oyster sauce.”

you energetically hop off the table, an idea lighting up the bulb in your mind.

“i have another recipe for you. french toast with strawberries, then drizzle some of the honey. should i make it for you?”

“ah!” he gasps as if he is in pain, but the truth is his mouth is watering. he hasn’t eaten breakfast, and he wanted to eat more for dinner last night but sleep proved to be much more enticing than food. “that sounds so good! i’m starving!”

“stand up!” you begin pulling at the back of his sweater, forcing him to remove himself from the floor. “i’ll make it! just go relax in the living room, okay?”

“but you just said you’re lazy to cook.” he tilts back his head, meeting your gaze. “i’ll help you.”

“i’m not lazy when it becomes to being a host.”

you bend down with a sweet smile, merely inches away from him, and jungkook swears the earth has stopped spinning on its axis. your face is natural and bare, except for the sheen of lip balm across your lips— and dear heavens, having you this close, you are so breathtakingly beautiful.

“they’re playing christmas movies on channel 36.” you announce, giving him the bag of chocolates. “and the remote is… somewhere on the sofa… or maybe the floor.”

and as he gets practically kicked out of the kitchen, your hands roughly pushing his back, he daydreams of kissing you and tasting sugar on your lips.

—

the sweet, addicting smell of the french toast— strong hints of butter and cinnamon— invades every corner of your apartment. consequently, it also compels jungkook to break your rules and insert himself in the kitchen again.

“you never give up, do you?”

“i don’t,” he agrees, nodding eagerly. he has successfully stolen the task of washing the strawberries, and then slicing them after. he endures the freezing water rendering his hands numb. “it’s a known fact.”

“are you saying i should study harder?” you cross your arms, expression painted with faux vexation.

“yes! exactly!” he humors you, grinning of amusement. “what’s my favorite color?”

you sigh, looking at him from head to toe.

“anyone can guess that from a mile away, jungkook.”

“fuck, okay. that’s fair!”

the sound of his laughter reminds of you reasons to stay through the cycle of the seasons. you don’t understand why, but for some reason, it has finally begun to feel like christmas. the only comfort that comes along with the cruel winter that nips at your skin; the blanket over your heart that provides a type of warmth one can travel to seek but will never be able to find alone.

“what’s my height then?”

“aren’t you six feet?”

the silence that follows is an answer enough for you. the noise of the television emerges now that none of you is talking. he pretends to be too busy to speak, transferring the strawberries over to the chopping board.

“yes, you’re ri-”

“liar!” you point an accusatory finger at him.

and he winces, guilty as charged.

“you hesitated!”

“tsk, i should’ve said yes faster! i wanted to experience what it’s like to be tall!” he regretfully purses his lips, eyebrows knitted as if he just lost the lottery. “but haven’t you read it online? even my shoe size and weight are there.”

“what? why do people even need to know that…?” you exclaim, flabbergasted. “i mean- of course i’ve searched up your name, but it feels like cheating on a test. does that sound silly…? it’s just more fun learning about you from you.”

you briefly walk away to grab a bottle of water from the fridge, and jungkook is left at the counter with fondness blossoming in his chest, bleeding into the chopped strawberries staining his hands red.

he calls out your name.

“mhmm?” you hum in question, muffled by the water in your mouth.

“want to hear a fact about me?”

you wipe your lips with the back of your hand, eyes expanding with fueled interest. “what?”

“i’m actually very good in the kitchen.” he boasts his skills with the kitchen knife, quick and precise, the blade against the wood creating the satisfying click you usually only hear from cooking shows. “are you seeing this? huh…? what do you think?”

“so i’ve noticed. i want something new!”

at that, his shoulder sags in disappointment. to his demise, there goes another failed attempt at making you acknowledge that he is boyfriend material.

“what do you want to know? ask me questions.”

“what’s your ideal type?”

being in your presence for the past hour has gotten jungkook re-adjusted to your personality— straight-forward, bold, smart— so vivacious that it’s dizzying. you make him nervous and comfortable at the same time, and he doesn’t quite know how to explain it either. but you’re a breath of fresh air, the change that he has been anticipating to disrupt his routine.

“why do you want to know that?”

you shrug coyly, smiling like the troublesome vixen that you are. you rather enjoy the tension that has hung in the air. if you’ve learned something from the past: men are easy to get, not easy to keep. because they relish in the chase, getting strung along like this. so, shouldn’t you have your fun too? but even if jungkook’s intentions were pure, you can only imagine that seeing someone whose life revolves around their career is… the perfect recipe for disaster.

“i think who you like also says a lot about who you are as a person.”

“i like someone who is kind and funny…” he hums in thought, unconsciously slotting a piece of strawberry in between his lips. “and passionate about the things they love… mhmm, someone who can be honest with me.”

his words form a constellation named after you, unbeknownst to you, and he wants to say more but anticipating what comes next after you connect the dots makes his stomach twist. he doesn’t feel like an adult yet. he’s still just a young boy with a gorgeous crush and high ambitions that coalesce in his dreams.

“i like someone who has a really pretty smile, too.”

and he should probably stop staring, erase the dumb lovesick smile on his face. for fuck’s sake, it would be easier for him if you would just do the same. behind the sparkles of your eyes, there is something he’s been dying to decipher.

“okay, why are you looking at me like that?”

because you are so pretty, especially when you smile.

“nothing,” he replies innocently. “you? what’s your ideal type? who do you like?”

“i don’t know… no one has captured my heart yet. they’re not trying hard enough!”

every romance you’ve had so far has been a letdown.

“but i’m still looking. i’m young, and hot, and the universe is vast.”

“mhm, i see… that’s true, but maybe… you don’t want to be looking too far.” jungkook suggests.

you smirk. “so you agree that i’m hot?”

“you know. you don’t need me to say it.” he chuckles, shaking his head.

“but i want to hear you say it.”

“you’re very beautiful, ____.”

“but that’s not-”

“the food is ready! let’s eat it before it gets cold!”

he runs to the living room without waiting for you, and you seize the opportunity to squeal without a sound, punching the counter without actually punching— releasing the giddiness threatening to spill from the seams of your heart.

you don’t know if this is heading somewhere, nor do you expect it to, but where you are right now is a good place to be.

—

the movie playing on the screen has become more of a white noise to you, a family comedy far less fascinating compared to jungkook drizzling honey over strawberries and bread from a spoon. you wonder if he is aware how often he creates sound effects while he is doing something.

beside you, his body quakes with cackles during the scenes that an editor would definitely insert the classic sound of an audience’s collective laughter and holler. you stumble upon the understanding that his happiness lies in a myriad of things, and you would envy him for it if not for the fact that he is currently sharing that happiness with you. you laugh when he laughs, and being becomes a little less heavier at that moment.

another commercial break rudely interrupts and jungkook turns towards you. the two of you sit cross-legged, knees knocking against each other as you occupy nearly the entire sofa.

“hi!”

“hi.”

“what are your plans for the holidays?”

“my best friend’s family invited me to stay with them for christmas until the new year. it’s kind of been a tradition since…”

the end of your sentence hangs suspended in the air. you still can’t say it out loud.

jungkook knows they’re gone and you’re alone: only the plain and brutal truths.

the reminder that this is the third christmas you will not spend with your family; the thought that this would be the third christmas they would spend without you if the afterlife was real— they bring tears to your eyes at once, but you forcibly blink them away, shoving enthusiasm down your throat.

“how about you?” you take a bite from your toast, attempting to divert your thoughts to… anything else. “are you coming home?”

you hide so well behind a smile. it doesn’t occur to jungkook that his question rubbed salt on an open wound.

“i miss my mom but i can’t go home yet.” he pouts. “i have work on christmas day as usual. we’ve been preparing hard for it.”

“oh, that’s right! gayo daejeon?!”

he nods in confirmation.

the music festival has been an annual event for his group since they debuted, and he never feels the need to complain because not everyone is given this kind of opportunity. what’s extraordinary for most has become his ordinary, and what was once his ordinary like everybody else’s has simply become a thing of the past. nevertheless, he does not have regrets. he is living a good life, one that he believes is his fate. as long as he has a voice and it is being heard, then his existence has meaning.

“your family will surely watch you, so they’re still celebrating it with you in a way. making them proud is the best christmas gift you can give!”

and right now, in his life, you are the cherry on top. you were so cheerful and supportive about the final shows of their tour as well, raving about how amazing it is to perform three nights in a row at gocheok skydome.

“i’ll watch you too!”

he can’t help it— you’re driving him to be better at what he does. childishly, he wants show off and be the one to capture your heart.

“ah!” he groans. “that means i should work harder at practice tomorrow! i can’t mess up infront of you and my family!”

“why not me? you want to make me proud too?” you interrogate him jokingly.

“of course, it’s my job. it’s what i do best. i’ll make you see!”

“use me as motivation then. you can’t mess up, okay? you have to do well, jungkook! you better not make a mistake! my eyes will be focused on you only!”

his face is reminiscent of a deer caught in the headlights— the headlights being your wide, threatening eyes.

he releases a shaky sigh in dramatic fashion. “i don’t feel motivated, though? i’m getting pressured?”

you wheeze; the plate over your lap tilts along with its contents.

“this is tough love!”

jungkook nearly staggers to his feet. “…love?”

you roll your eyes, small corners of your lips still cheekily lifted. “was the french toast good?”

jungkook is interrupted before he can form a response.

“but if it tastes like shit, just lie to me!”

“what are you talking about?!”

oh my god, you’re too fucking good at making him laugh.

“you’re eating it too! you know it’s delicious!”

“maybe you got a bad batch!”

—

“i’m going to the laundry shop across the street. i’ll just be a minute.” you announce, hauling a laundry basket to the living room.

your strained grunts prompt jungkook to look up from his phone, and eventually to stand up with urgency and relieve you of your heavy, heavy burden.

“shit, how heavy is this?”

you’re not given a chance to protest as the basket is immediately stolen from your grasp; your lips part open but no words come out.

“i’ll come with you!”

“well, hopefully not more than twelve kilos.”

it’s definitely heavier than usual; mainly comprised of the thick and layered clothes you’ve been wearing to shield yourself from the unforgiving cold.

“let’s go.”

jungkook wraps his hand around your wrist, gently tugging. the butterflies in your stomach wakes up earlier than spring’s arrival.

“this thing is bigger than you.”

an extremely obvious exaggeration.

“i’ll be the one to carry it.“

—

jungkook wears a cap and a face mask underneath his hoodie, eyes barely even visible in his all-black getup for the public to see; and somehow you also find yourself with a scarf around your neck, pulled up over the bridge of your nose.

when the year 2017 rolled in, you predicted that more crazy, life-altering stuff would happen. it has been an on-going theme, a relentless domino effect that has brought you to your knees time and time again. but you never would’ve fucking imagined that this is how you would be wrapping it up. how the hell did you cross paths with a famous idol, and why is he carrying your laundry basket right now?

“wait here for a bit.” you bring both hands to the basket’s handles, coaxing him to let go. “i’ll just bring it inside.”

“are you only dropping it off? that’s expensive!”

“what?” you stare at him in bewilderment, not expecting him to utter such statement at all. “you’re talking like you’re not rich!”

“i’m not! and still,” jungkook becomes flustered underneath his disguise. “it’s good to be practical. anyway, we have a lot of time.”

“you sound more like a mom than my mom did.”

“shhh!” he shushes you, putting a finger over his face mask. “let’s just do your laundry ourselves.”

“why would you do laundry right now? you’re supposed to be resting in the first place!”

a tug of war ensues infront of the laundry shop. strangers doesn’t know better. you look like a married couple bickering over who should take responsibility of the chore.

“____, just let me, mhm? i’m a pro at doing laundry too! we’ll be done before you know it!”

“how are you good at everything? honestly, it sounds like a scam!”

“how dare you doubt me?” he gasps in offense. “i do my own laundry!”

“seriously?” you quirk an eyebrow.

“i’m serious!”

“i don’t think i believe you, though…”

“if you search online, you-” your voice echoes in his mind, and subsequently, jungkook cuts himself off.

‘it feels like cheating on a test. it’s more fun learning about you from you.’

“oh, nevermind. let’s go inside already. i’m freezing!”

“jungkook!” you whine, stomping your feet on the ground as you refuse to let go of the basket despite jungkook beginning to head inside.

“why?” he copies the childishness of your tone, and although you can’t see his face, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes tell you enough.

“we can’t…”

the adorable sight of you appearing to be so shy is foreign to him. he can’t help but to chuckle. “why not?”

your lips form a pout.

“my panties…”

you bring a finger to point at the basket.

“they’re in there too… i was only going to drop them off today because you came with me…”

“ah…” jungkook awkwardly freezes, unblinking. “wait, you’re right?”

why didn’t he think of that? he’s a fucking idiot. of fucking course. what if you take things the wrong way and you’re creeped out by him now?!

“fuck, sorry. i’m sorry. i wasn’t- um, i swear i wasn’t trying to…”

his tongue becomes tied, struggling to search for the words that won’t make him sound like a damn pervert.

yeah, way to go, jungkook. you’re not the fucking boyfriend yet and you’re ruining your chances.

“did i make you uncomfortable? i’m sorry. it probably looked li-”

“hey, breathe, calm down. it’s alright, jungkook.”

you giggle in amusement, placing a hand over his chest— his heart. it’s meant to ease him, but the knowledge that you’re feeling his racing heartbeat only causes it to further intensify. he swallows the lump in his throat, dumbfounded by the turn of events. he wants the ground to swallow him whole, but he also wants to stay in this moment a little while longer.

“it’s alright. i’ll go bring this inside then i’ll treat you to lunch at the restaurant over there! don’t run away from me, okay?”

—

“the yukgaejang looks good.” you utter absentmindedly, admiring the spicy beef soup with plentiful vegetables from afar. “i’m jealous of you.”

the other tables are already having a feast while you and jungkook are waiting for your take-out to be prepared.

“then you should’ve ordered it too.” jungkook scolds you lightheartedly. “should i go?”

“no! i’m not good with spicy food. spice makes me cry.”

he smiles softly. once again, you complete the picture from his eyes. “what is there to frown so sadly about?”

“i feel like i’m missing out.” you complain, the pout on your face almost permanent. “spicy food is like one of the trademarks of korea, you know? but i can’t handle it!”

“so cute…” jungkook has decided to give in to his impulses, it seems— the evidence is him pinching your cheek for the very first time, and with the discovery of its delightsome softness, it will definitely not be the last.

“oh, oh, oh! an eyelash!”

his doe eyes glisten with pure wonder and excitement, and the air in your lungs becomes suspended when his hand moves to tenderly cup the side of your face. as he is absorbed in capturing the tiny eyelash that has fallen and glued itself on your cheek, your mind reels with the size of his hand, the sensation of his innocent touch against your neck.

“aaand-” jungkook takes your hand, passing on the eyelash to your index finger. “there you go. make a wish!”

your eyes flicker down, and none of you speaks for a moment or two.

a wish…?

what does one wish for when they have given up on wishing for miracles?

“did you do it?”

you peek at jungkook, nodding. at last, you blow the eyelash away, outside the window, where it becomes one with the snowflakes that came from the same sky where wishes are supposedly granted.

“what did you wish for?”

“i’ll tell you when it comes true.”

—

jungkook eats so well— you feel full just by watching him eat. so when he asked you, eyebrows knitted and legs bouncing, if he could have more rice, you were left with no choice but to plug in the rice cooker for the second time today. you cooked only enough for two meals today: brunch and dinner for one. you’re more than happy to have given him the dinner portion. you like that your apartment is providing warmth for another soul, despite the old times that it housed ones that ended up haunting you.

“are there any more chores to do? while we wait for the rice?”

you gaze switches from him to the living room.

the boy who was knocking at your door is now vacuuming your floors.

you sit on the couch with your legs hugged to your chest, chin propped on your knees. an unexplainable feeling swims in your chest, but your heart calls to welcome it. not to be delusional, but technically, isn’t this a marriage proposal?

it falls on dear ears— the infuriating sound of the cheap vacuum cleaner your landlord lended you and never came back for. underneath it is jungkook’s mellifluous voice, humming and singing, and it’s all you can hear.

the only use you knew of honey is the magic it does with tea for a sore throat. when you learned about his demanding occupation, he is all you can think of in relation to the elixir. since then, you’ve been taking the god awful amount of honey your pesky neighbor provides without any complaints.

this is nice… this is good. you are glad that you opened the door.

—

after a hearty and satisfying meal, you and jungkook retired to your previous spots infront of the television screen. more of the snacks he bought for you ended up being shared. near your stacks of books are colorful food wrappers and half-empty glasses of water. two mediocre yet entertaining movies later, you tell jungkook that you should pick up your laundry before the shop closes in an hour. however, after he has excused himself to the bathroom, he is greeted by the sight of you peacefully asleep on the sofa.

once more, a new side of you is laid bare, and his affection grows. he doesn’t know when he can admire your face this close again without melting from your stare.

heedful of disturbing your much deserved rest, he carefully places a pillow beneath your head, and he pulls down the blanket you’re wrapped in to cover your cold feet.

with one last stolen glimpse, he grabs your key and receipt from the bowl and leaves.

—

“is it time for you to leave?” you delicately rub at your eyes that are still half-closed; voice quiet, barely there.

you were awoken by the front door opening and closing, but nothing has quite registered to your fuzzy brain yet, except for the coat that you neatly kept and is already re-worn by its owner.

and he knows you’re most probably just sleepy, but the way you’re gazing at him as if you’re sad to see him go makes his heart clench.

“no, i picked up your laundry.” he enlightens you, consciously speaking with refined tenderness, as to preserve the serenity that has enveloped the atmosphere. “i can stay until eight. is that okay?”

you release a weary sigh, nodding. “of course… and you’re such a nice friend, thank you.”

he plops down on the sofa, filling the jungkook-shaped space beside you.

tired… you’re so tired… despite the given privilege to finally sleep to your heart’s content, you’re still so tired. your forehead lands softly on his shoulder, and unbeknownst to you due to your stupor, jungkook’s breath hitches— the polar opposite of the steady rise and fall of your chest. you make him swoon. he deliberately ignores the fact that you just called him a friend.

you peer down at the floor, past the curtain of your disheveled hair, slowly blinking. those ridiculous toe socks… you giggle in secret.

“jungkook?”

“yes?”

“are you cold?”

“freezing.”

you lift your head and he knows— you have to be playing games with his heart, bringing the temptation to kiss you so painfully close. “do you want some tea?”

—

the performance has commenced but the passionate screams of the audience still rings in jungkook’s ears as he runs backstage, chased by the staff attempting to wipe the sweat he is practically bathing in. he squeezes one eye shut as beads of sweat threaten to enter it. his chest heaves with exhaustion and his heart pumps with overwhelming adrenaline. most of the time, this job doesn’t feel real. he feels high. this is the textbook definition of a dream.

“where’s my phone? please? does anyone have it?” he yells in the midst of the chaos and clamor as he completely strips off his in-ears.

a hand reaches towards him with the device, and his expression of gratitude gets lost somewhere among the repetitive reminders of the remaining time before they should have returned to their designated seats.

he allows the hair and make-up stylists to do their jobs, him as their doll in need of a retouch. on the other hand, he impatiently waits for his phone to power on.

the tapping of jungkook’s foot ceases, and from his glowing reflection on the vanity mirror, the clueless people surrounding him witnesses love strike.

guess my eyelash wish worked like a charm. your performances went really well

and you looked so cool on stage ☺️

merry christmas jungkook ❤️

“jungkook-ah, what are you smiling at?!”

seokjin cackles. jungkook didn’t even notice him roll his chair so close. he then decides to play dumb to tease their youngest one.

“wow, who is this ____ you’re texting?”

“hyung!” jungkook panics, hissing underneath his breath. “lower your voice!”

“ouch!” seokjin yells, rubbing his arm that was hit as a punishment.

he allows a moment of silence.

his expression goes blank and he avenges himself.

“ah!” jungkook gasps as the slap on his thigh resonates, forced to be ripped away from overthinking a text message. “hyung! you better start running!”

Draft: i know it’s late.. but can i see you later?|

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taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook smut

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prettybabybaby · 1 year

Note

Perv! Ethan jerking off while on the phone with you, possibly while you're crying to him about how your date stood you up or something.

again, not exactly what you asked for but this is what came out so.

¡ 18+ only ! ¡ minors do not interact !

content: murder, dark!ethan landry, fem!reader, male masturbation

¡ scream masterlist !

your breathing was short and shallow, the strain on your throat clear even over the static sounds of the phone. he could picture you sat in the small space between the post of your bed and your closet, knees up and teary face tucked between them. he pictured your bunched up skirt that had undoubtedly slipped down your legs, pooling around your hips and exposing a sliver of your delicate panties. he let himself wonder what kind you wear.

ethan struggled to keep his own breathing level and push down the whimper that wished to voice his pleasure. his grip on himself was tight, loosening slightly with every twist of his wrist as he kept a slow but steady pace.

“i just,” you let out another sob, “i wanted it to go well. i got dressed and everything…” your began to sniffle again, “and he left me there. all alone. no text… nothing.”

“i’m sure you look gorgeous,” he forced out when you began to cry. god, why did you sound so perfect when you cried? “f-fuck, he, he wasn’t worth your time, beautiful.”

blood was rushing south in intense waves, stiffening his cock almost painfully and causing crystal beads to dribble out of his tip and down his shaft, lubricating his strokes that were becoming more and more frantic.

“i’m still so worried, e,” you whimpered, “with the killer loose…”

ethan glanced around, pumping furiously as you continued, “it’s so scary, isn’t it? anything could happen, no one's safe." you were. "not even him... god, i hope he's okay."

his grip on his phone tightened, trembling as he worked to restrain himself, the task much harder now that he was so close. his hips began to lift, meeting his fists as his eyes flickered around the scene in front of him. the empty eyes, the crimson liquid pouring from parted lips, and the still chest of your lover. your sweet voice confiding in him, trusting him with your concerns and feelings of pain when he was the cause of all of this made him shiver as his cock pulsed in his grasp.

he had gotten jealous, he had followed your date home, stalked him, plotted his demise right under your nose. and here he was, plan executed and not an ounce of remorse. in fact, he'd go as far as to say he enjoyed it.

ethan chuckled, humorous and breathy, "yeah." he couldn't hold back a strangled moan when your sobs started up again, little hiccups disrupting them.

"e," you whimpered. the whine of his nickname had his hips thrusting pathetically, lip tucked between his teeth and grip tightening. "please." his stomach fluttered, orgasm just over the edge. he forced his eyes open, only managing to crack them open, but the bloody scene in front of him was still visible. lifeless and unmoving. no longer a threat.

"i need you..."

his teeth punctured his plump bottom lip, filling his mouth and flooding his taste buds as he came, sensitively trembling as spurts of his seed shot out of him, a thick stream falling down and over his fist.

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sincerlycas · 1 year

Text

pretty lady.

summary: a connie drabble where he has to deal with dating the most prettiest girl.

warnings: mature scenes, slight smut, etc.

commission for: @tojisblondebimbo

don’t forget to dm me for commissions <3

connie loved you with his hearts content, he loved when you would come up to him squealing because you got a new dress, he loved the way how tight the dress clunged to your body leaving no where for imagination. your ass pocking out the bottom of the dress when you would bend over showing your lacy thong clinging to your mound so tightly.

connie loved the fact you were so damn pretty, you were hard headed and stubborn, but soft and poise. he loved how sometimes your beauty could get you anything. for example, you forgot your purse in the house so you turn to look at connie while pointing at the Chanel bag “pa pleaseee I’ll pay you back!!” shaking his head he agreed to buy it knowing damn well you won’t pay him back. but he knew something was up when you seemed to forget your wallet multiple times. what can you say, why would you spend your own money when your man is right there?

but you being pretty can also cause problems. the amount of times he had to beat niggas asses left and right because they couldn’t keep their hands off you. sometimes he wished you wore a plastic bag over your head when going out. he wished your dresses weren’t so mesh and tight on you showing everyone a preview of what’s up under there. but it’s not really his baby’s fault that she’s so pretty so all he can do is grunt about it and move along while rubbing onto your ass any chance he can.

the times he really loved though was being between your legs sucking with his hearts content. looking up momentarily seeing your bambi watery eyes staring right back at him, your plump lips letting out the softest whines possible. slurping sounds filling the room as you rock back against his face trying to catch your nut. connie’s tongue did wonders that sometimes you had to deprive him from the pussy. like one time he wanted to fuck while you guys were at a family gathering and cupped your pussy with his hand after slipping it through the slit of the skirt “connie !!” “whatt? let’s go in my old room hm?”

your hair messy and all over the place, makeup and lip combo smeared, legs kicking around everywhere, toes curling, back arching off the bed “you taste so good mama~ how come you won’t sit on my face forever huh~? don’t that sound like a good idea pretty lady~?” slapping the side of your thighs with pinching your overstimulated clit. “what you think mama~? tell ‘pa’ what you thinking in the pretty little head of yours~” biting your lip you grabbed his hand making him hover over you. watching your plum lips connie heard “you won’t be able to handle it pa~” did I forget to tell you he loved that slick mouth?

he couldn’t leave you alone even if he tried. you were a little bit toxic. everytime he went to do a deal you would latch onto him telling him if he left you in the house alone for an hour max you would leave. of course knew you were bluffing but he still sighed a stayed with you a while longer knowing if he you guys broke up, you’d find a nigga the same day. ouuu he was just like the song area codes by kali, that one line that said “matter of fact, scratch that imma send you a stack just cuz you fine as hell” and bitch that nigga hand you two racks!! while saying “give me a show and I’ll add an extra hermosa” who were you to decline the offer?

overall being connie’s pretty girl had many perks it’s a 10/10 experience <3

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mr-mandalorian · 1 year

Text

there was sturmhond’s second in command, the princess that never was.

nikolai lantsov x reader, arranged marriage, angst/comfort, haven’t read to books so this strictly follows season 2

she was promised to the second prince. she didn’t know it at the time, but nikolai was the one to plead his parents to accept the deal. what a scene she caused that day, her father squeezing her arm a little too tight as he presented her to the royal family. she was all polite smiles and curated answers, her beauty undeniable in her satin gown. it was a perfected act, nikolai could only watch in amusement as guards swarmed her. when he reached to greet her with a kiss on her hand, she slashed at him with a hidden blade.

from that moment on, he knew that she would always be the woman to hold his heart.

and she hated herself for harboring similar feelings. she was an only daughter, an asset her father was sure to exploit. the last thing she expected was to find a kind man by her side, one who shared the same distaste for arranged union. when nikolai was preparing for sea, he didn’t ask for her to follow him. she was free to do as she pleased, and yet she chose to go after him.

and she was proving herself to be a valuable part of the crew. direct yet diplomatic, trusted by all as she unintentionally took the place of second in command. at times when there was a difficult decision to make, she felt crowds of eyes pointed at her instead of their captain. she didn’t mean to overstep, but the prince never dimmed her light.

she watched as the first army bowed to nikolai, the ravkan wind suffocating compared to the salt water breeze. and when no one took notice of the soon to be princess, she stayed silent. she should’ve been pleased, no longer a bride but just an acquaintance of nikolai’s that happened to tag along. and yet somehow it stung, feeling restless and out of place in the spinning wheel.

so when nikolai proposed to alina and turned to her for approval, she could only offer him stunned silence. y/n was no fool, she understood the need for this calculated move. and who was she to deny him? a prince was free to do his own bidding.

“dorogoya, please say something. it’s not like you-“

“right away, my prince.” she wished for the earth to open and swallow her whole, how embarrassing as she fumbled with her pockets, looking for the piece of jewelry that was just another secret out at sea. “you’ll be needing this.”

“you- you had this with you the entire time?” nikolai couldn’t help but grin as she revealed the engagement ring. he understood the weight of it, how she was never given a choice of who got to place it on her finger. and yet, when she was free to get rid of it, she continued to keep it on her person.

“just in case i needed something to trade if you ever got captured by pirates again.” she tried to save grace, ears tinting pink.

“you wound me, moya lyubov. you know i’m too good to let it happen again.”

his charm wasn’t working, y/n not in the mood for pet names without meaning. her eyes found alina and mal on the other side of the room, having their own quarrel about the proposal. she couldn’t help but feel like her and the tracker were the same.

“y/n, listen. i know you never wanted this and now we have a reason to end it. take as much as you need, your father won’t hear a word about it. return to sea, or-“ he cleared his throat, somehow more nervous asking this than her hand in marriage. “or stay as my advisor. it would be foolish of me to let go of your talents.”

hearing these words years ago would’ve had her over the moon. she’d be overjoyed, running through the door without saying goodbye. and yet she found herself unable to move, her breath hitching at his offer. he was giving her a reason to stay.

“i suppose it would be dangerous to leave you without supervision.” she tried her best to look nonchalant, but if a heartrender walked by, surely they’d think she was having a heart attack.

watching sturmhond flirt his way out of tricky situations was one thing, but seeing the way the prince treated his new lyubov was another. it was once y/n that got to intertwine their fingers, got to hear sweet nothings fall from his lips. it was all pretend but she couldn’t help the ugly feeling blooming inside her chest.

“i see changing brides is as easy as changing clothes, brother.” vasily mused after the engagement became public over dinner.

“good riddance to that feral girl you were so obsessed with before, no amount of money attached to her family could make her a worthy princess.” the queen nodded along, eyeing her second son.

alina watched as nikolai flexed his jaw, ignoring his family. instead his eyes were roaming the crowd, searching for someone. and when he found who he was looking for, alina had to bite down a gasp. there was sturmhond’s second in command, the princess that never was.

“y/n, it seems congratulations are in order.” zoya leaned over the the table, a smirk painted on her lips. “you’ve managed to escape a boring, pompous royal life.”

“pardon?” tamar leaned in just as close from the other side, nearly brushing noses with zoya.

“seriously? am i the only one who remembers that y/n was promised to nikolai?” the squaller stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world. it should’ve been, but people only cared for saints.

y/n placed a gentle hand on tamar’s shoulder, ordering her friend to back down. instead she raised her glass, deciding the next best thing was to drown her sorrows. and soon she was laughing, her head thrown back like she was back at sea, enjoying a late night drink with her crew. with liquid courage and burning cheeks, she extended her hand to mal. she felt the need to cheer the tracker up.

her vision was becoming difficult as she danced, failing to notice that mal had twirled her into someone else’s arms. it was only when he spoke did she realize the warm hand on the small of her back belonged to her beloved prince.

“i barely get to see you now, moya lyubimaya.”

“don’t call me that.” she exhaled in content, resting her head on his chest as they swayed to the slow song playing.

“it’s never bothered you before.”

“i didn’t care if it was real or not before.” she admitted, the poison in her veins untying her tongue.

“and what if i said it had always been real, moya lyubimaya?”

“i would call you a liar.” she looked up at him, so beautiful with her doe eyes and long lashes. and then she was pulling away, leaving the prince lonely in a room full of people.

there was little time for sulking after that. the spinning wheel fell under attack and y/n was second in command once again. it was like second nature to stand besides nikolai, ordering people around and keeping the situation from spiraling further. when he was mulling over what to do with genya, she threw a warning glance his way. if an advisor he wanted, an advisor he would get.

there was no denying that they were good together. even when it came to facing the darkling and his army of grisha and shadow, y/n never lost her head. that was until the church, until a certain sharp shooting durast trapped them inside with a shadow of the size of two men. that was the only time y/n didn’t think, she just did as she pushed the now king out of the way, shielding him from the monster coming his way.

she couldn’t remember much after, just fragments of conversations and trembling hands trying to glue her back together. the thought of nikolai safe and sound lulled her to sleep.

when she rose, she was met with genya’s wide eyes. she was tending to her wound, the awful gash on y/n’s abdomen requiring everyday tailoring. the grisha smiled then, a genuine smile for the first time in days. she pulled away to reveal the king asleep in a chair next to y/n’s bed.

“wouldn’t leave your side.” genya whispered before walking over to wake him.

it was like he was struck by lightning, nearly tripping over himself as he rushed to the woman’s bedside. grasping her hand tightly in his, he thanked the saints with tears in his eyes.

“please, moy tsar, you’re embarrassing yourself.”

“you will send me to an early grave, woman.”

“clearly, it will be the other way around.” she dared to glance down, genya having left her abdomen exposed. it wasn’t pretty, thick dark stitching slicing her belly in half. she nearly jumped out of her skin as the king placed his palm on top of it.

“see this scar?”

he nodded towards his hand, revealing a long pale line trailing through all of his fingers.

“this is where you cut me the day we met. i refuse to get it tailored, to keep as reminder of you everywhere i go.”

“nikolai-“

“i know it was an act of protest, but you had me falling head over heels. from that moment on, i knew you’d be the one for me. my second in command, i would fall apart without you by my side. i had this whole grand gesture planned, to make up for how you were treated before. but i can’t wait a second longer.”

he pulled out the ring y/n had returned him. suddenly it held no weight to it, it was light as a feather sitting on her finger. like it was always meant to be there.

“and what of your pervious engagement?”

“well my advisor was out of commission for a while, so i haven’t really thought it through.” she rolled her eyes at the king’s teasing. but she couldn’t help but allow herself to smile, wiping the smug look off his face with a kiss.

#nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov #sturmhond x reader #sturmhond x you #shadow and bone

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etherealphosphor · 7 months

Text

Melancholy

⟡ Contains: Neuvillette x Gn!Reader, Sfw, Fluff then angst, Reader gets blackmailed, Tiny bit of violence, Brief mention of blood

You had always been Neuvillette’s only assistant, which was odd considering the Chief Justice usually had many. Due to this fact, you were often rushing around, trying to manage all of the tasks for the day. Even though the work was tiring, you were never mad at Neuvillette for it. For someone so intimidating, Neuvillette was surprisingly kind to you. One might expect him to be a harsh boss, but he was the exact opposite.

Neuvillette had no limit on paid leaves, trusting you to use them fairly. Additionally, if you wished to leave work early due to exhaustion or for other reasons, he would simply find someone else to do your work for you. Of course, you were quite confused. What kind of boss just lets their employees leave work whenever they want? And if he could just get a replacement so quickly, why not have more full-time assistants like a Chief Justice ought to? It was almost as if efficiency was his last priority.

Though confused, you were still inclined to believe that Neuvillette knew what he was doing. After all, a man of such high status must have things under control. Neuvillette’s kindness towards you was something you were always grateful for, and it brightened your day whenever he thanked you earnestly for working for him.

Even if the task was as simple as bringing him a glass of water, he still looked you in the eyes as he told you how much he appreciated your help. Though, lately, his eye contact and gentle smile stirred a different emotion in your chest. An uneasy, nervous feeling, but not unpleasant. Was it love? You didn’t quite know.

One time, you held Neuvillette’s gaze for a little longer than usual, stunned by how beautiful his blue-grey eyes were.

"[Name], are you alright? Is there something else you need from me?" Neuvillette asked you, a little puzzled as to what you were staring at him for.

Snapping out of it, you quickly stammered, "Ah, n-no. Just spacing out, I-I apologize, Monsieur Neuvillette."

"How many times must I tell you that you can just call me Neuvillette? There is no need for such formal titles." Neuvillette softly chuckled.

"A-Alright. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Neuvillette." You quickly said, before exiting his office.

That night, you lay awake thinking about Neuvillette. No, it can’t be. Is it possible that I’ve developed romantic feelings for the Chief Justice? It’s unheard of, but I don’t think I can deny it any longer. Though I doubt I’m anything more than an assistant to him, after all, people of such high status as him don’t really go after anyone of a lower class. What do I even do?

After pondering for a long while, you eventually ended up falling asleep. Your dreams contained many different romantic scenes between you and Neuvillette, which caused you to be decently flustered when you woke up. You were quite embarrassed that your unconscious brain could even think up such things.

After getting ready, you headed off to Neuvillette’s office to get the list of chores for the day. Unsurprisingly, you couldn’t look him in the eyes after what you saw in your dreams.

Staring at your feet, you began to speak. "Greetings, Neuvillette, what tasks do you have for me today?"

Noticing your strange behavior, Neuvillette asked, "Good morning, [Name]. Is something on your mind? You’ve been acting so odd lately. If you’re going through anything, I can easily find someone to temporarily fill your position for a couple days."

"No.. no. It’s not that. Don’t worry yourself, Neuvillette. I am fine."

"If you’re sure." Neuvillette said, handing you a small list.

When you took the paper from his hands, you accidentally looked up, making direct eye contact. Those beautiful eyes of his were always something that fascinated you. And paired with that kind smile on his face, your heart simply couldn’t take it. You felt the heat slowly creep onto your face, and you quickly looked away from him. You hoped he hadn’t seen you blushing.

Though, of course, Neuvillette was a very perceptive man, and he did indeed notice. One does have to pick up on small details to judge court cases, after all.

"[Name], you look a little flushed; are you sure you’re in perfect health? It would be outrageous to ask you to work while you’re sick." Neuvillette asked, reaching out to feel your forehead for a fever.

You immediately flinched; this action of his was quite unexpected, and it caught you off guard.

"Oh, my apologies. Did I cross a boundary? It was merely out of habit." Neuvillette said, putting that hand over his heart to show his sincerity.

"Ah—no—it's fine. You didn’t do anything wrong." You replied, your own heart beating faster.

Oh, archons above, I’ve really fallen for him hard, haven’t I?

Over the next couple of days, you continued acting quite nervous around Neuvillette, something that he simply couldn’t ignore. Your behavior confused him, and he wished to get to the bottom of what was causing such a reaction.

Neuvillette had his suspicions, for sure, as the way you looked at him wasn’t exactly normal. However, he brushed it off as wishful thinking. After all, in secret, he did have quite a soft spot for you. Which was very unusual for him, as he avoided personal relationships with everybody else. To him, you were a fascinating anomaly. Who could predict that the Chief Justice would actually end up falling for someone? Even he himself was surprised.

Finally, after a week of your odd nervousness, Neuvillette simply had to ask you what was wrong once more. He doubted you would answer him properly, like every other time he had asked, and he knew that he would have to get your reaction to specific questions to gauge the situation.

Calling you into his office, he began to speak. "[Name], I know something has been on your mind lately. I’ve asked a couple times before, but I haven’t gotten a straight answer. Now, I hate to pry, but I worry that this topic may concern me, and I’d like to know if I have done something wrong so I can possibly make right of it."

Shaking your head slightly, you said, "No, Neuvillette. It’s really nothing. You didn’t mess anything up."

"You haven’t yet told me if this involves me, and don’t try to lie about it, [Name]. I can see through any lie in a second. So, does your anxiousness have anything to do with me?"

After a moment, you slowly nodded. After all, you couldn’t easily keep anything from this man. Being the Chief Justice, Neuvillette was trained to notice when people were being dishonest, so it was certainly quite a feat to get any lies past him.

"Ah, so it does indeed involve me. If I haven’t done anything wrong, then what is causing such a reaction from you?"

"I don’t think I can say it out loud, Neuvillette.."

"That’s fine. I already have my own suspicions, after all. However, I worry that they may be incorrect. I still have my doubts, which is why I haven’t brought up my own thoughts yet."

"Oh, I see. Well, what do you think?" You asked, feigning calmness. In reality, you could feel your heart beating faster.

"[Name], please correct me if I’m wrong, but... are you romantically interested in me?"

Your eyes widened. Neuvillette had indeed figured it out. You didn’t doubt that he would in the end, but you were still shocked that he had asked so bluntly. You had no idea how to respond, so you just looked away from him, completely red-faced.

"It really is that, isn’t it?" Neuvillette sounded almost as shocked as you were. With urgency in his voice, he began to speak, "[Name], please tell me if I’m right. This is important information to me."

You didn’t dare make eye contact or even move a muscle; you were too scared to do anything.

Grabbing your hands in his, Neuvillette began to speak with a hurried, apprehensive tone in his voice. "Is my conclusion correct? Please, [Name], don’t leave me in the dark like this; I must know."

Still looking away, you managed to choke out one word: "Y-yes.."

Moving his hands to your face, he cupped your cheeks and forced you to stare him directly in the eyes. "Do you truly mean it, [Name]?"

Neuvillette was smiling brightly. That was rare for the Chief Justice—usually all that could be seen from him was a small grin. But this time, it was completely different. He looked at you with a beaming smile that made his eyes sparkle just as bright.

"I—yes, of course.. of course I mean it." You said, your voice sounding a little lost. Everything was happening so quickly.

Neuvillette pulled you into an embrace, tightly hugging you to his chest. "I’m so glad, really, I am. You can’t imagine how long I’ve been wanting to hear that from you. I’ve always had a soft spot for you, but you must have already known about that. After all, there’s no way you didn’t notice my strange behavior toward you. That is also the reason I never hired any other assistants; I only wanted you by my side."

Your head was spinning a little; all this new information was so shocking, and your brain had yet to fully process it. Once the realization of what had been said had sunk in a little, you melted into Neuvillette’s gentle arms. You couldn’t believe your luck. The Chief Justice himself had fallen head over heels for you? Impossible. Focalors herself must have been smiling down at you.

Over the next few days, you made your relationship with Neuvillette official. Well, official to only the two of you, that is. Due to the judgment placed upon those with high status dating people with lower status, you had suggested that Neuvillette keep things a secret.

Neuvillette simply stated that being with you was nothing to be ashamed of, and that he didn’t mind any gossip spread about him as a consequence. However, what made Neuvillette keep the relationship a secret was when you told him that people would assume you were using him for his status and money.

Now, the last thing Neuvillette wanted was for your name to be tarnished in such a way. Rumors about him dating the lower class could be spread across the entirety of Teyvat for all he cared, but he would never apologize for loving you. But Neuvillette would not tolerate you being accused of being shallow and selfish.

After about a month of hiding your relationship, things were getting more and more difficult to cover up. You drove Neuvillette crazy; he had never experienced something like it before. Due to this fact, you two would often very nearly get caught. Perhaps it was the red marks left on your neck after spending time in his office, or maybe it was the affectionate looks you gave each other. Either way, the both of you got quite a few raised eyebrows from others working in the building.

One time, Neuvillette had you pinned against a wall in a secluded hallway, passionately kissing you as his hands trailed down to your waist. His gentle caresses were enough to make you let out a small whimper, which only excited him even further.

Moving your head to one side, Neuvillette gently sunk his teeth into your neck, trying his best not to break the skin. It was more difficult for him to be gentle than an average person due to the fact that he had sharp fangs.

Suddenly, Neuvillette pulled away from you. "Shh. I think somebody is coming."

You quickly regained your composure in case Neuvillette was correct, stepping away from your place against the wall. Meanwhile, Neuvillette was taking a look around the entrance to the hallway, making sure that nobody was there.

"We should be in the clear. I apologize for the false alarm, my love."

"It’s perfectly fine; better safe than sorry. Anyway, should we get back to what we were doing~?"

"Gladly." Neuvillette said in a low tone, smiling at you.

Raising your arms above your head with one of his hands, Neuvillette tilted your chin up with the other, leaning back in to fervently kiss you once more. You let him fully take control, allowing him to do what he liked with you.

By the time you two were done, you had bite marks all over your neck, and a blush across your face.

"Well, it’s getting late, isn’t it? Would you like me to walk you to your room?" Neuvillette asked you.

"Of course, anything to spend a little more time with you."

Walking hand in hand, Neuvillette led you to your room. In the past, it used to be a small storage room but was remodeled into a living space for you. After Neuvillette hired you, he insisted that you needed a room inside the building for your convenience. However, now that you were in a relationship with him, he admitted that it was also partly because he wanted to be closer to you.

Giving Neuvillette a quick kiss on the lips, you bid him farewell, before shutting the door. Just as you were about to lay down, you noticed an envelope that had been pushed under the door. It was addressed to you. Picking it up, you sat down on your bed and began to tear it open.

Once you saw the contents of the envelope, your eyes widened in horror. In your hands, you held many different photographs. Those pictures included the red marks on your neck, you and Neuvillette holding hands, hugging, and him pinning you against the wall. They all had something in common. They were evidence. Somebody had figured it out.

Under the photographs, there was a note. It read:

"Dear [Name],

As you could probably tell by those pictures, I know of your intimate relationship with Neuvillette. You two really are awful at keeping secrets, aren’t you? I have copies of all of those photos, by the way. There’s no point in destroying them. I intend to publish an article about you two to The Steambird. The only thing that will stop me from exposing your romantic feelings for one another to the entirety of Fontaine is if you keep your distance from Neuvillette, as you should’ve done to begin with. A Chief Justice shouldn’t be involved with one of his employees; he ought to have better standards than that.

You wouldn’t want me to spread false rumors and ruin his reputation, would you? Even if he insists that his reputation doesn’t matter, deep down, I’m sure he worries about it. Yes, I overheard that conversation of yours. A Chief Justice needs to be trusted by the people; even a child knows that. Who would trust him if he’s messing around with the lower class? I could also ruin your name as well by posting the article I have prepared. I thank you sincerely for the idea to frame you as a gold digger; it was truly brilliant.

If you don’t decide to stay away from your beloved Neuvillette, Fontaine will know him as a pervert who flirts with his servants for his own amusement and pleasure. As for you, you’ll be known as the servant who went along with it because of his status and money. And don't even think about telling Neuvillette about this letter; I have eyes everywhere. I will know if you speak with him.

You wouldn’t want to hurt Neuvillette, would you? If you truly love him, you’ll keep your distance."

You could feel your heart quickly beating in panic. You had no idea what to do. What could even be done about it?

That night, your dreams were stressful and scary, and you were still extremely anxious when you woke up in the morning. The idea that someone out there knew about you and Neuvillette, and could ruin both of your names in a second if they wished made your blood run cold.

Over the next week or so, you tried to avoid Neuvillette as much as possible. That letter was living rent-free in your head, and despite wanting to spend more time with the Chief Justice, you were terrified at the possibility that your relationship could be exposed at the snap of the blackmailer’s fingers. You barely spoke to Neuvillette outside of the small talk you had while completing your tasks each day, making up excuses for why you were so detached from him.

Neuvillette was quite confused, and he began to worry if he had done something wrong. That was often the first thing he assumed when you were acting odd, as it was the thing he dreaded most. If he accidentally hurt you, he wouldn’t know how to forgive himself.

After a couple more days passed and you were still avoiding him, he tried to ask you about it.

"[Name], my love? Is there a reason why I’ve barely gotten to see you these days? Have I done something wrong?"

"Ah—no. I have volunteer work for.. uh.. the Adventurer’s Guild. Yeah." You said hurriedly.

"The Adventurer’s Guild? Since when did you join them? If you’re low on mora, I can give you some. It’s no bother to me." Neuvillette replied, reaching into his pockets.

"Oh no, no. My mora is fine. I just volunteered for the good of Fontaine, you know? The work is its own reward."

"How kind of you; that really is a good way to look at things. In that case, I won’t keep you. Good luck while volunteering; don’t get hurt." Neuvillette gave you a quick kiss, bidding you farewell.

The look that Neuvillette gave you made you feel bad for lying, and in the end, you did actually end up going to volunteer at the Adventurer’s Guild. After a long day of fighting monsters and solving strange puzzles, you were ready to collapse on your bed.

What you didn’t expect was for there to be another envelope slid under your door. Opening it, you found a photo taken of Neuvillette kissing you earlier. Your heart skipped a beat, and as expected, there was another letter from the blackmailer.

This time, the note written by the person was much shorter. It simply read:

"Didn’t I tell you to keep your distance? This is a warning."

Your heart began to beat faster, and you were beginning to feel anxious again. You so badly wanted to run into Neuvillette’s office, throw yourself into his arms, and inform him of what was going on, but you couldn’t. The blackmailer would find out, and both you and Neuvillette would have false rumors spread about you all across Fontaine.

You hated that you were avoiding Neuvillette; it really hurt. Unfortunately, the blackmailer had scared you to your very core. You didn’t want to harm Neuvillette at all, and you knew if the article was published to The Steambird, it would severely damage his reputation and image. After all, what is a judge without the trust of his people?

You spent yet another sleepless night tossing and turning, unable to calm the worry in your mind.

Over the next week, Neuvillette tried on multiple occasions to talk to you, but you declined each time, making excuses such as:

"Sorry, I’m busy!"

"I can't right now; I have work at the Adventurer's Guild."

"Neuvillette, I’m really tired; can we speak another time?"

"I’m late for a meeting with a friend; I have to go."

You felt so bad that you had to do this. You never intended to hurt Neuvillette, but you slowly began to realize that you were causing him harm anyway. Every time you denied him, you could see the light in his eyes die, and he forced himself to smile gently. He would always reply with something along the lines of:

"Ah, I see. We’ll talk some other time, then."

One weekend, you looked out the window of your room, and it had begun pouring. Your eyes widened. Neuvillette was the Hydro Dragon, and it was said in folklore that when it rained, it meant he was crying. Neuvillette was a closed off man when it came to his negative emotions, even with you.

The rain made your heart ache; you knew it was your fault. You knew that the reason he was crying was because of you. That realization hurt like nothing else. In trying to protect him from harm, you had accidentally done the exact opposite. Even with your worries and regrets, you knew that you couldn’t go and comfort Neuvillette, despite how much you wanted to. The blackmailer would immediately publish that article if you did.

You felt so pathetic. What kind of partner would you be if you couldn't even comfort your boyfriend in his most vulnerable state? And what kind of partner lies to and avoids the other for weeks on end? The feeling in your chest was overwhelmingly awful.

Even so, you didn’t do anything. You were stuck. Your two options were equally bad. The rain went on and on, and you felt extreme sorrow even looking at it. You felt like a failure, like you were useless. You couldn’t even protect the one you loved most.

It was still raining when you went to bed that night.

The next evening, there was a gentle knock at your door. Getting up, you opened it, only to find Neuvillette waiting outside your door. In that instant, so many thoughts went through your head. You felt like you were being watched by the blackmailer.

"Good evening, [Name]. May I come in? I wish to have a chat with you." Neuvillette said, very clearly wearing a fake smile.

Even with the threat of the blackmailer, you couldn’t help it. You wanted to talk to him again.

"Uhm.. yeah, sure, Neuvillette." You said awkwardly, permitting him to enter.

Once the door was closed, Neuvillette spared no time in getting to his question. "Have I done something wrong? Answer me truthfully this time. You have been avoiding me for around three weeks now. I can’t imagine why else you would do such a thing."

"Neuvillette, no. You didn’t do anything. Trust me. This has to do with something else. I’m so sorry if I’ve hurt you." You spoke, looking away from him.

"What is keeping you from me?"

That question really made your heart start to beat, and the panic was evident on your face. "It’s nothing important."

Neuvillette took your hands in his. "[Name], you can tell me anything. I’m not mad at you; I’m just worried. I’m your boyfriend; we can depend on each other. Whatever you’re going through, we can work through it together."

Finally, looking up into his eyes, you couldn’t take it anymore. You had to tell him. You could feel tears starting to fill your eyes. "I'm being blackmailed, Neuvillette."

Neuvillette’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything. He was absolutely shocked.

"What?"

You had finally said something. Just as your words had been held back for so long, so had your tears. They rolled down your cheeks, and even further down your neck.

"I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I should’ve, but I was scared. And I still am. I’m really scared, Neuvillette." You said, wiping at your tears.

"No, no.. [Name], it’s okay. Don’t be hard on yourself. It’s not your fault. Who has been blackmailing you? And with what?" Neuvillette’s gaze was concerned, and he stroked your hair as you cried.

"The letters are over on my desk.." You managed to get out between sobs.

Getting up for a moment, Neuvillette went over to look at them. His emotions went from concern to anger at what he saw. Who would dare to hurt and threaten you like that? Rage boiled in his chest, but he tried to keep his composure for your sake.

"Whoever did this will get what’s coming to them." Neuvillette spoke softly, embracing you once more. "I promise you."

You were still crying; it felt good to let it all out after bottling up your feelings for so long. Neuvillette kissed away your tears, and his hands began stroking your hair again.

Once you had stopped crying, he gently asked, "Will you be alright if I leave for a minute? I do wish to keep comforting you, but I have a feeling that the criminal is nearby, and I wish to catch them. Is that okay?"

You nodded, and after a short yet passionate kiss, Neuvillette walked out of the room. In his peripheral vision, he spotted a strange man, but he pretended not to notice and walked the other way. Once he was sure the stranger was walking away, he began to quietly trail them.

After a short walk, the man opened a door and walked inside. Silently, Neuvillette slipped into the room behind him. The man didn’t notice until Neuvillette locked the door.

"Can you explain to me what business you had blackmailing [Name]?"

The man was shocked to hear the Chief Justice’s voice, but he kept a confident smirk on his face as he turned to him. "A person of high status like you should not be involved with someone like them. Someone of a lower class. I’m doing you and Fontaine a favor by scaring them off."

The expression on the man’s face made Neuvillette even more angry. Neuvillette was not the kind of person to solve problems through violence, but in that moment, he couldn’t resist.

He grabbed the man by the neck and shoved him against the wall. With all his might, Neuvillette slammed his fist into the side of the man’s skull over and over. Then, Neuvillette moved down to punch him in the stomach, effectively winding him and causing him to fall to the ground.

Neuvillette’s hands were injured, but it was nothing compared to the state of the person before him. Neuvillette’s gloves had little golden spikes on the knuckles, which had left the man’s face bloodied and ugly.

Grabbing some handcuffs from his pocket, Neuvillette restrained the man’s hands behind his back. Why did Neuvillette have handcuffs at the ready when he had no idea he would be dealing with a criminal beforehand? That can be left up to the imagination.

Still not totally satisfied, Neuvillette gave the man a sharp kick to the face before walking over to his desk. There, he found the article and photos that were described in the letters. He picked them up and resisted the urge to destroy them then and there. It would be crucial to have them for evidence.

Once he had gathered all the things he needed, he looked down at the man on the floor and coldly said, "Get up. I’m going to hand you over to the police. If you resist, I’m going to assume that you haven’t taken enough of a beating already."

After a while, Neuvillette walked back into your room. You looked up at him expectantly, and he smiled at you.

"Everything is okay now, darling. The man has been arrested."

Neuvillette brought you into his embrace and laid down with you. You wrapped your arms around his waist, so glad to finally get to feel a type of comfort you hadn’t felt in weeks.

"I love you, Neuvillette."

"I love you too, [Name]. You’re safe with me."

You listened to the slow rhythm of Neuvillette’s heartbeat, breathing in his calming scent as you fell asleep. That was the first night in three weeks that you didn’t have nightmares. You felt truly okay again.

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nvvacanesworld · 2 months

Text

OLDER BOYFRIEND JJK MEN!- a series ♥︎

♡pairing- older bf! toji x preschool teacher! reader≧◡≦

♡contains-mentions of kissing and touching, mentions of toji having a closet full of weapons, mentions of pda , preschooler megumi :) (awww)

an- if you see quotes it means just means those were direct words you guys said. I thought i should make that clear cause my friend said it was confusing for her. Anywho enjoy :) im a new writer so im always welcome to feedback just pls don’t be mean. Enjoyyyyy(๑•́ ₃ •̀๑)

stranger!toji - who first met you at open house for his kid- megumi, you were going to be his home room teacher. He was honestly sick of the shit and wanted to go home until you opened your classroom door for the parents with a sweet smile on your face beckoning them to come in and take a seat.

megumis dad!toji - someone you didn’t really think much of at first, if you were being honest he looked scary and you were shocked when he stayed behind after the other parents left to talk to you one on one, leaving megumi to color by himself while you guys had a chat by your desk

megumis dad!toji- doesn’t know why he stayed after, he decided on a whim- like he does with basically every decision in his life- that he just need to talk you. Using the excuse that he wanted to know more about you, which wouldn’t have been a lie-if he didn’t say it was for megumis sake, when it was really for him.

megumis dad!toji -who you lose track talking to, you don’t know what made him so interesting. Maybe it was his gruff exterior, and how he kept slipping in flirty remarks to you. You didn’t notice how you guys had almost been talking for 45 minutes until megumi comes up to his dad pulling on his pant leg whining about how he wanted to go home.

megumis dad!toji- who makes it so obvious how much older he is than you when instead of using the number you gave all the parents to contact you with decides you to send you a email instead. But hey, he needed to talk to you someone. Using his son as an excuse per usual he would ask “how is megumi doing in school” and if “there was any behavior that needed correcting”

megumis dad!toji- who you start to see way more often then you thought you would. Always being the first at the school and last to leave just so he can talk to you longer but hey? it’s for little gumi, which is how during about the second quarter of school he asked out to dinner, to which you accepted because you weren’t dumb and you were starting to like him to, you thought it was really cute how he would do whatever he could to see you. Maybe he has a softer side

crush!toji - couldn’t remember a time where he has been nervous to see a girl. He doesn’t know what flipped switched in him but he was outside of you door and wished the world would swallow him whole. It’s not like he showed it though, still keeping that gruff expression which made you attracted to him in the first place.

crush!toji - who takes you to the most beautiful restaurant you have ever scene. When’s the last time you’ve been treated to something like this ? just walking into this place felt like a dream, and you could tell it cost him a pretty penny too.

crush!toji - who was so mature and respectful the whole night, he held the door for you when you guys walked in making sure he held your hand, pulled your chair out for you and made sure you were comfortable before he sat, and don’t forgot him bring you a gift too which happened to be a book you loved that you mentioned in passing in one of you guys conversations.

crush!toji- who tried his best to keep up his good behavior but couldn’t take it when the waiter kept flirting you. He ended up grabbing your hand and escorting you out that kid had him so heated. He had to beg for you forgiveness in the car though when you got mad at him for ruining your meal and the good time you were having over a little jealousy.

crush!toji- who makes it up to you by inviting you to his house for a movie and dinner. That he cooked himself by the way. When you finally agree he drops Megumi off at Satorus and deep cleans the house. By the end of the date he is kissing you on the lips and asking you if he could "be your boyfriend". Very out of character for him, but you bring out a softer side even he doesn't recognize.

older bf!toji- who at the beginning of your relationship makes it obvious he expresses his feelings through actions and not his words. He isn't good with expressing how he feels causing you guys to fight sometimes. He always makes it up to you though by giving you gifts and taking you out on your lunch breaks.

older bf!toji- whose father tendencies, his urge to guide and provide, and how he can be stern with his teachings, sometimes leak into your relationship and how he treats you in the relationship. You've opened up to him about how it sometimes makes you feel like you are his child so he has put in effort to stop but they still sometimes jump out in certain instances.

older bf!toji- has such a sarcastic and sometimes dark humor humor. when he first expressed this side of himself to you you couldn't tell if he was serious or not because he said it with such a straight face. That doesn't mean he doesn't make you laugh though, once you got used to it he became one of the funniest people ever.

older bf!toji- has such a different taste in music and books and even films than you, always surprising you with bands he listens to that you've never even heard of. You do the same though introducing him to music and literature you're into that he's never heard of, always learning new things about each other.

older bf!toji- introduced you to his friends one day and although it's a smaller group than most they are all so different, but one thing they can all agree on is that you are perfect for Toji.

older bf!toji - surprises you with how much he likes to cook, you knew he could cook because of you guy's second date, or "redemption date" as he likes to call it, you just didn't expect him to always want to cook for you.

older bf!toji- is very reserved about his past, opening up to you sometimes when he's feeling extra vulnerable but doesn't like to dive into that part of himself, you did find a closet full of weapons though when you were snooping around one day. You wonder what thats about

older bf!toji- loves PDA, always touching you and kissing you not caring who is around, unless you guys are together at the school, you put a firm boundary on that saying "absolutely no touching" when you guys are in front of the kids and other parents.

older bf!toji- takes you to work while taking Megumi to school- who by the way absolutely loves you, it took some warming up to do when you were first introduced outside of school but with the right amount of love and patience you guys became best friends it’s one of the reasons why toji loves yo- loves taking you guys to work and school became the car rides are always so fun :)

older bf!toji- is such a homebody, opting to stay in the house instead of going out, but if you want to go out he'll make an exception.

older bf!toji - is so happy he met you, he thinks you make him a better man.

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akazzzaa · 6 months

Note

Ohhhh how about this? akaza, muzan, kokushibo and douma with a reader who's parents disapproves of them dating a demon so they forcefully make reader marry someone else. but knowing these demons i bet they might rescue their lover during the ceremony, eh? adds drama and flair!

Thank you for the ask! I really enjoyed writing this!

Summary- Readers parents don't approve their child dating a demon so arranges them to marry a normal human. Demons Interrupt the wedding.

Genre- Fluff// Angst

Warnings- Forced marriage/ Death/ Blood/Gore

Muzan

Muzan Kibutsuji, the most powerful demon of them all, had fallen in love with a human who had inadvertently caught his attention. She was beautiful, kind, and possessed a heart that Muzan had never seen in any other human. They had been secretly dating, their love growing stronger with each passing day, but there was one problem: your parents disapproved of your relationship.

So they found a husband for you. One that any other woman would be glad to have.

As your wedding day approached, you where filled with dread and despair. Your love for Muzan was undeniable, and the thought of marrying another man was unbearable. You knew that you had to find a way to escape this terrible fate and reunite with Muzan.

On the day of the wedding, as the ceremony began, Muzan couldn't bear to stay away any longer. He had been watching from the shadows, hidden in plain sight, and when he saw the you walk down the aisle with tears in your eyes, he knew he had to act

Muzan burst into the wedding venue, shattering the doors and sending the guests scattering in all directions. Blood and limbs everywhere. Your parents where shocked, but there was a fierce determination in Muzan's eyes as he made his way to the altar. He grabbed your hand and pulled you away from the crowd of corpses. "Let her go!" your father shouted, trying to stop Muzan, but the demon's power was overwhelming.

Muzan held you close, his crimson eyes locked onto his. "I won't let anyone take her away from me," he declared.

With a wave of his hand, he unleashed a burst of power that sent your parents and the chosen suitor flying backward and killing them on impact. The wedding venue crumbled around you both. Both of you escaped through the chaos, leaving a trail of destruction behind.

Once you were safe, Muzan embraced you, vowing never to let anyone come between you again and forced his hand through your chest and grabbed your heart. Before you could die, he turned you into a demon.

Kokushibo

One fateful night, your parents gathered the family to reveal their decision. They had chosen a wealthy and influential human suitor for their child, intending to marry them off against their will. You where heartbroken and conflicted, had no choice but to comply with their wishes, for fear of causing them pain.

As the wedding day approached, your heart grew heavier. You knew that marrying someone else would mean giving up on love and living a life of lies.

Unknown to you, Kokushibo had been informed of the impending marriage. Determined to rescue the one he loves, Kokushibo devised a plan to save you from this forced union.

On the day of the wedding, just as the ceremony was about to begin, Kokushibo arrived to the venue. The demon's presence filled the air with an eerie tension, and the guests, horrified, began to flee in panic.

Kokushibo's cold voice cut through the chaos, "I will not allow this unholy union to take place. You, my beloved, are not meant for this human." With incredible speed and precision, he swiftly cut your fiancé in half.

With a mixture of shock and relief, you looked into Kokushibo's eyes. "Kokushibo... you came for me?"

With a soft smile, the demon reached out his hand. "I will not let anyone tear us apart. Come with me, and we will be together, no matter the odds."

Filled with emotion, you took Kokushibo's hand, and left the scene of the disrupted wedding together. Both of you had defied your family's wishes and society's norms, choosing love over tradition.

As you both disappeared into the night, your love remained as strong as ever, and kokushibo knew you would face many challenges, but you would face them together.

Douma

Douma had found an unexpected connection. His heart, once consumed by darkness, was now inexplicably drawn to you.

You had a fierce determination and a compassionate heart that could pierce through even the darkest of shadows. Your love was pure and passionate, yet tragically forbidden. Your parents couldn't bear the thought of their daughter being with someone they considered an enemy of humanity.

So your parents decided to take drastic measures. They arranged for you to be married to a young man from the village, someone they believed would provide safety and security. The news of this arranged marriage was a devastating blow to both you and Douma.

Douma's multicoloured eyes gleamed with a mix of sadness and despair. "Y/N, I won't let this happen. We'll find a way to be together, I promise."

As the days went by, you and Douma hatched a plan to escape the arranged marriage. The night before the wedding, you decided to flee, seeking refuge in a remote, hidden location where you could both live together in secrecy. But you would abandon your old life, family, and name to escape the constraints of human society.

On the fateful night, you where supposed to be dressed in you bridal attire that your parents prepared for the wedding, you escaped from your room, with Douma waiting in the shadows. You both slipped away into the night.

Akaza

In a small village a secret love story was flourishing. Akaza, a feared demon that have killed many warriors, had fallen deeply in love with you, a kind-hearted human. Your love transcended the boundaries that separated worlds, but it was a love that was hidden, cherished only in the secrecy of night.

As the months passed, your love grew stronger, and you both began making plans to be together openly. Akaza had already proven his unwavering devotion to you, and together you both believed they could overcome the prejudice and fear that kept you apart.

However, your parents remained stubborn in their opposition to the relationship. Fearing for their child's safety and the consequences of such a forbidden love, they hatched a sinister plan. One evening, while you where away, they made a deal with a wealthy family from a neighbouring village to arrange a marriage between you and their son. It was a grim decision made out of love, or so they told themselves.

Your heart shattered as you tried to protest, explaining that your heart belonged to Akaza. But your parents would not hear of it, and they were blind to the love that had blossomed between the two of you.

The arranged marriage took place, and your life would be forever changed. In your heart, you continued to yearn for Akaza, who was unaware of the tragic twist of fate that had befallen his beloved. you where forced into a loveless marriage, trapped between the love you cherished and the obligations you could not escape.

On that night, you where in your room, your husband trying to court you. Meanwhile, Akaza had returned from his mission early, sensing that something was amiss. He used his supernatural abilities to track you, and what he saw through the shadows confirmed his worst fears. He saw the ceremony outside, and you in a bedroom with a man, looking utterly devastated.

In a swift and silent motion, Akaza infiltrated the house, hidden from human sight. In the midst of the commotion, Akaza reached out to you, pulling you close to his side. He spoke with a voice that demanded respect and conveyed his unwavering love. "You will not take what is mine," he declared, his eyes burning with intensity. He covers your eyes from the view as he kills the man.

#demon slayer #kny #kny x reader #akaza x reader #douma x reader #demon slayer x reader #kokushibo x reader #muzan x reader #muzan kibutsuji

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cissa-calls · 4 months

Text

Rewatching Crimson Peak & Things of Focus and Notice:

As a child at her mothers funeral, Edith wears butterfly/moth earrings

Is the pen her father gifts her the one she later uses to stab Lucille? He describes the importance of having “The right tool for the job,” is that foreshadowing for gifting her the tool to begin her escape from Crimson Peak?

Is Edith wearing a butterfly hair clip when she dances the waltz with Thomas?

Lucille’s iconic crimson red gown is so detailed, so beautiful. It represents the skeletal ghosts with its spinal column along the back, crimson peak itself in color, the carapace of a bug on the sleeves and structure, and the upper bodice has trim that blooms outward (present similarly in her blue gown) but is bisected by buttons…creating a familiar shape…a moth?

The candle they hold during the waltz is held at the same level Edith holds her iconic candelabra, a subtle parallel

The trim on the collar of Lucille’s black dress references the spikes and trims of gothic architecture - which is very heavily featured in Allerdale Hall

Lucille says that: “At home we only have Black moths, formidable creatures but they lack beauty.” Knowing the parallel between her and moths, it implies that she sees herself as a survivor and powerful, but something no longer beautiful because of it

Lucille places the butterfly she holds directly into the ants, an action that’s brutal but quick. Is it foreshadowing to her execution of Edith’s death? Something quick for such a beautiful thing, done by her hand?

The LOOK Lucille gives Thomas when they realize Edith’s father knows their past. THE LOOK (JESSICA CHASTAIN YOUR ACTING)

“You seem the more collected one my dear” Lucille is called this. She always holds the mission undetered in her mind, as opposed to Thomas who seems more easily swayed by emotions

When Thomas breaks Edith’s heart by ripping apart her book. He says: “What do you dream of? A kind man? A pure soul to be redeemed? A wounded bird to be nourished?” He is telling her exactly what he is. None of those things, none of the dreams she has built of him in her mind. Not with a past and life such as his.

The significance of gramophones and wax cylinders: it is what plays when Edith’s father is murdered, it is also what saves her from meeting the same fate

I want to know more about Lucille!! Her character is so rich, so so complex, she needs more screen time!!

Need a prop replica of the ring NOW

[the house] “is a privilege we were born into, one we can never relinquish” METAPHOR ALERT METAPHOR ALERT metaphor for the cycles of abuse and trauma they could not break

HOW THE FRICK did I MISS the fact that Thomas’ workshop is in the attic when that was where him and Lucille were locked up as children. SO MANY IMPORTANT SCENES HAPPEN THERE. So many significant to their past we never see, so many ghosts not visible but are so real and present to have caused this

The trail of smoke like red essence that emanates from the ghosts as they walk, like they are still bleeding

Lucille’s hair looks black in darker lighting, but a dark brunette in others. It’s provides a black, dark shroud when she’s in America, and catches more light when she’s in Allerdale Hall

“I like to think she can see us from up there. I don’t want her to miss a single thing we do.” UM MA’AM

“…in time, everything will be right” LUCILLE QUEEN OF FINAL OMINOUS STATEMENTS IN SCENES

The amount I WISH to explore this set. To pry apart each detail and pick apart each piece, so much of it had to be handcrafted pieces for the movie or vintage pieces sourced for it. LET ME IN

THE LIGHTING MUAH

The ghost in the hallway has a rope dragging behind her…is this a gory detail, or an allusion to how she may have died (if not by poison)?

The ghost in Edith’s dream is pointing, though it is never shown to what. Is it to the exit, her warning to leave as all the other ghosts try to do?

The children’s laughter after the presumed scream of their mother’s ghost as she is stabbed, is it just for creepy effect, or did Lucille and Thomas actually laugh after they murdered her?

The scar on Lucille’s lip? Never noticed it before!

Not the first time I’ve noticed it, but the act of her clutching hot steaming food with her bare hands is chilling every single time

Were the bodies of Thomas’s wives left in the vats of clay? I don’t know HOW I didn’t make that connection before, originally i thought it was merely for creepy effect.

Many people villainize Lucille and try to make Thomas out to be solely a victim. But as stated in the wax cylinder, he was fueled by his desire to pay for and make his machine. Him and Lucille are both complacent in using their victims money for their own gain

We need to bring Chatelaine’s back into fashion. That is all.

The scrape of the spoon over the porcelain cup, it screeches and is a subtle way that shows Lucille act of caring has a harshness to it, an unpleasant sound resulting from an otherwise pleasant action: tending to Edith

Such an interesting camera choice to have the camera focus in a circular inwards and outwards

also also Lucille has a temple scar on her forehead?

The small amount of glee Lucille takes saying Edith “thought [she] was was a writer” as she throws the pages to her novel in the fire.

The absolute deadpan, matter-of-fact-ness Lucille has to Edith when she signs the papers “you have nothing to live for” & “mercy killings.” This is a familiar repeated cycle

“Sign your name! Sign your bloody name!” Bloody is not just for emphasis. Edith’s name is soon to be nothing but blood

Lucille’s night gown sleeves as she flies down the stairs in pursuit - like a moths wings fluttering towards its prey

Lucille and Edith fought each other with bare feet on the stone and in the snow

Lucille is the only one of the two who knows how to start Thomas’s machine, because she was the one who witnessed it working

It is only the stab wound on Thomas’ face that bleeds and smokes when he is a ghost, perhaps because it is the wound that bears his betrayal by Lucille, reminiscent of tears of his lingering pain

Edith now has a facial scar, gifted to her by Lucille, who bore ones of her own. It is a passage, a continuing of the cycle, but it is its finale. It is Edith’s souvenir from Lucille, who took her own souvenir (her hair) from the other like a prize

#a very exhaustive list from my most recent rewatch of one of MY FAVORITE MOVIES #crimson peak #many many thoughts #lucille sharpe #edith cushing #thomas sharpe #cissarambles

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uglypastels · 10 months

Text

Not Wholly Evil |IX| pirate!Eddie au [NSFW]

a/n we are getting so close to the endddd oh my god i am so excited and sad at the same time because i don't want this story to end as much as some of you, but I also cannot wait to share my next lil projects with you 🥰 thank you for all the support on the last chapter!

this chapter will include explicit scenes. Minors DO NOT Interact. 18+. if you have read the previous chapters but do/should not wish to consume this content, please read:

Chapter 9 (safe for work version)

Series Masterlist

word count: 13k

"semi dark fic" - READ the warnings:. (gun/sword)violence. blood. mention of severe wounds. minor character death. allusions to suicide. kidnapping. imprisonment. alcohol. open and deep sea. near-death experiences in water. men are pigs: mentions of non-con, but it does not actually occur. [in-dream] non-consensual behaviour. malnourishment and weight loss. paranoia. mention of poisoning. abuse. manhandling. lying. small wounds inflicted by fire. blackmail. binds and knifes. SMUT 18+ ONLY, MDNI - p in v sex. oral (f receiving). no condom (this isn't the 18th century. wrap it before you tap it). choking. thigh riding. jealous!eddie.

Chapter 9: Paragon

“Perhaps the wolf wasn't quite so dangerous as he pretended. Unfortunately, there was only one way to find out for sure——give him a little rope and see if he hung himself… And pray that he didn't tie her up with it instead.”

― Sabrina Jeffries, Dance of Seduction

He looked like he saw a ghost. And maybe he had. You didn’t feel like yourself, so who was to say if you were still alive? You had comprehended how you carried yourself back to the Hellfire. Standing in his room felt like you were looking down at yourself. Aware of everything around you but understanding none of it.

‘I thought you had left.’ He stepped into the room, leaving the door wide open. As he walked, you noticed he was clearing the way for you, allowing you to leave if you wanted to. His eyes were intently focused on yours and threaded lightly. Like any wrong move would cause you to disappear.

‘I wanted to,’ you admitted. You still wanted to. Your thoughts had screamed through the night for an escape. Yet, something tied you down to this ship and made you return.

‘Then why didn’t you?’ He came closer, and so did you. That string pulled at your ribs again, pulling you two closer. You had tried long enough to fight it to no avail. Whatever you thought you wanted did not compare to your subconscious need to be next to him.

‘I don’t know.’ Deep down, you knew the reason, but the time was not there yet to admit it. In your mind, you still despised everything about him, this ship, the crew, and, therefore, yourself for needing his touch as much as you did at this moment. It was weak to give in to him like you did.

The candle’s light fell upon him at angles that brought something new out in him or maybe revealed what had always been there. The signs of the wear and tear of a life at sea. He wasn’t hiding it any more, letting all that pain be visible, and he looked beautiful. You held back from reaching out and tracing the thin scar against his brow or the flawed line of his nose that must have been broken once. The longer you looked at him, the more you realised that you could look at him in this way forever.

And that scared you.

Munson walked past you to his desk, occupying himself with whatever he could reach. It would have been good for you to have something to focus on instead of him, but you stood in the middle of the room with nothing but him to clutch onto. Neither of you spoke, stuck in an awkward limbo, tiptoeing around one another to see who would be the first to step over that line. The line that had kept you, your heart, safe until now. You could impossibly predict what was to happen if it was crossed.

The ship creaked as the tide softly bounced off it. For the rest, it was uncharacteristically quiet on board.

‘Is the rest coming as well? Will we be departing soon?’ It was ridiculous to change the topic in this manner, but you simply did not know what else to say, and this barrier between you and him was dreadful. You could sense it in the middle, waiting for that catalyst to burst. And you wanted it to. Just how?

‘No, I doubt they realised I’ve gone.’ He finally turned back to face you, leaning against the desk, arms crossed, eyes on the ground. If he could just look at you—would that make things easier or that much harder?

‘Why did you? Leave the tavern, I mean.’ With your heart pounding in your throat, tightening your breath, you stepped toward him.

‘I noticed you were gone. Then I heard you had gone to the harbour with some man and I thought…. I grew worried.’

‘Why?’ You could not imagine him caring for you to go out, away from his crew and his festivities, to look for you.

‘I know what you’re thinking, and at first, yes, I was thinking about the money,’ he admitted, which took you aback. You took a step closer. ‘But then I—when I realised, or thought, that I had actually lost you, I thought about how I would never see you again, and I realised—’ his words faded as you took your final step towards, letting your chest press against his. He finally let his eyes meet yours.

‘Realised what?’ Considering your proximity and seclusion, you hadn’t meant to whisper, but it felt right.

‘That I was scared’ His breath was shaky as his eyes took all of you in. ‘Of loosing you.’

‘I was scared too.’ And maybe that is what kept you from leaving. The idea that if you would go, there was a possibility that you would never see him again, and it was enough to hollow out your entire being with dread. It felt wrong. But that gnawing in your chest stayed there the whole night, even when you had returned to the Hellfire, and it only left once you felt his fingers intertwine with yours. A flutter of a touch at the fingertips.

‘And? Are you still scared?’ He matched your hushed tone with his response. The question was simple on its surface, but only the facade for an obliterating iceberg was the truth.

‘No.’ Standing in front of him, feeling his breath on you, the warmth that radiated off him, his gentle touch on your skin, seeing the smile hiding in his features, you saw nothing to be scared of anymore. There was nothing to fear anymore. The voice in you that had screamed for help all those days was silenced for a final time when you leaned in to kiss him.

His lips were chapped, cheeks rough with scars and the light shadowy scruff of a beard. His touch was featherlight, as if he was scared to pursue it as if you were to break underneath him. It starkly contrasted the force he had pulled you in with hours before. The intensity had been dizzying, and yet this was what genuinely shut your mind down entirely. But you could tell that he was not there yet wholly. Something kept him guarded.

You pulled away, but your lips still shared the same breath. When you opened your eyes, you were met with his and how they were shaking with uncertainty as he took all of you in.

‘Is there something you’re still afraid of?’ you asked.

‘Many things,’ his hand found its place on your waist, ‘but mostly of myself,’ and gently pushed you away. ‘And what I will do to you. I have made so many mistakes, mistakes that hurt you, already in that I will have to live it for my eternity, but I do not know what I will do if I make one again.’

There was silence as you took in his words. You understood them, possibly more than anyone could, for they were yours. As your lips met, you thought if what you were doing would lead to your doom, if it would all end in a disaster, but could something that felt so right be so devastating?

He had let his eyes fall to the ground. You reclaimed the one step he had made you take, closing the gap between you once more and letting your hand guide him to look up at you.

‘Do you think that kiss was a mistake?’ Your heart beat faster than it ever had as you waited for an answer, but his lips remained shut, so you continued. ‘If so, do not play with my heartstrings, but tell me, and I will leave. I will return to my cell, and you can lock me up and never see me again until you bring me back home.’ It would only be a couple of days, and it would hurt to mend this extremely fragile piece of you that you had just opened, but like all wounds do, it would heal eventually.

‘Answer me, captain.’ You kept your voice as steady as possible, regaining the confidence you had built up since you got onto the ship. ‘Was that a mistake?’

‘No.’ And with that one final word, you both leaned in for a kiss. Your hand was still on his cheek, his holding you tightly, but you still felt that urge to pull yourself closer to him. As you felt the press of his chest fully against yours, he actually pulled his lips away from yours. He hesitated but finally spoke against the corner of your mouth. ‘But… call me Eddie. Please.’

You couldn’t help but smile into your next kiss. Just like that, all that weight of the world fell off both your shoulders, down into the depths of the ocean, never to be seen again. You didn’t hold back with this newfound freedom when you pushed him up against the desk. The furniture shuffled with a creak over the floor, and you could hear some things topple over at the impact. Still, neither of you cared, too occupied with one another. He could just about manage to extend his hand and begin to push all the loose items off the desk to make space for himself. The papers flew around you, and all the measurement equipment clattered onto the crowd.

As the kiss intensified, Eddie shrugged and smoothly sat up on the desk, pulling you in with him. As he slowly let himself fall back, you followed, attached by the lips, hands, and hearts, until you practically lay on top, arms keeping you up from falling entirely onto him. Well, one hand, as the other found him and laced your fingers together once more. He had tried to make more space around you, pushing objects aside, when he cursed loudly.

You startled away and saw the clench in his jaw as he took a deep breath. He must have read your panic-stricken face as he showed you his hand. ‘It’s alright,’ his voice was calm, humour peaking through it. ‘I might have just put my hand right into the flame.’ And indeed, the side of his hand was glowing red.

Hearing this did not put your mind at rest as you tried to grab his hand and inspect the damage more deeply, but he pulled it away from you, instead taking your fingers in his and kissing your knuckles.

‘Don’t worry, my darling,’ he smiled while kissing your hand, ‘Can barely feel it.’

He had just made direct contact with fire; you doubted it would be alright, but then again, you had seen all the scars on his body. This would just be another small blister among the list of many. But you blinked the thought away. Tried your best to not think about the pain he had endured. You doubted he wanted you to feel pity for him and what had once happened to him.

The look in his eyes was adamant. He needed you to let it go, so all you could do was sigh.

‘You’ve gone mad.’

Eddie chuckled at your comment as he let his lips travel over your wrist, over the length of your arm. ‘As mad as any other sane man.’ His kisses moved over the material of your shirt. The lack of contact that was so clearly there shot sparks of anticipation through you, but he took his time taking you all in until his lips reached your collar. He had practically strained his neck to reach you from his position. Some of you wanted to back away to see how far he would follow you, but your weaker portion gave into his touch and melted over it.

He had just kissed your neck, sparking a fire through you on the spot, when a noise boomed over the silent ship, bursting you out of the solitary moment of bliss. In an instant, Eddie held you by the hips as he gently pushed you off him and got himself back on the ground. There was an alarm in his features, and so, when he looked at you and told you to “Stay here”, for once, you listened.

He closed the door behind him as he left to see what the noise was, and when minutes later, he had not returned, but there had also not been any more ruckus or signs of danger; you calmed down. Unsure of what to do now, you lay down on the bed. In the past few days, the bed had gotten more comfortable as you got used to it, but it still felt strange. You lay down on your side, facing the wall. The patterns in the wooden planks almost seemed to move in the shadowy light and, unfortunately for you, brought you into a trance of clarity and thoughts.

What were you doing? How could you have let all this happen? Kissing the man that had caused the death of so many people that you had deemed friends. How could you betray their souls by… by falling for him? You had lost control of all your feelings and emotions.

It was a trick of the sea. You had simply been captured on this ship for so long that you did not know what was wrong or right. How else could you explain the yearning feeling that still circulated through you? Why else did you wish he was still here with you, touching you?

With all these thoughts occupying your mind, you must have missed Eddie walking back into the room, mumbling something about how it had been a few of his crew that stumbled back up to the ship. Too busy with your own mind, you did not hear him calling your name softly, assuming you had fallen asleep and telling you good night. You did not hear how deflated the last words came from his mouth. You only caught the sound of the door closing behind him.

And soon you managed to turn all these thoughts off and fall asleep. Except then, they came back even stronger and in the form of dreams. You found yourself back on the Red Tail. The hawk flapped its wings on the flag in the wind and every man’s uniform. The sun shone brightly in its last few minutes before hiding behind the horizon. It was a strange illusion as you stared down at the ship and the two figures that stood out looking at the sparkling sea. You watched yourself talking to Admiral Carver.

‘I would have imagined you to have grown tired of the water by now,’ he laughed.

‘I won’t say I will be happy to return home, but I can’t ever see myself becoming tired of this view. It is beautiful.’ You leaned forward onto the balustrade and breathed in the salty air. ‘Besides, you have done this for much longer than I have, and you’re here too, so it can’t be that bad.’ It seemed it was only your first expedition while he had crossed the world several times. If anyone was to grow tired of it, you thought it would be him.

‘Perhaps you’re right,’ he had his arms behind his back, ‘but everything is more bearable when there is something back home to look forward to.’

‘I suppose so.’ You would not exactly know what he meant. Of course, you could not wait to see your father again, and your friends, but nothing at home gave you the sense that it genuinely anchored you there or drew your heart in for your return. ‘I am sure you miss your family very much.’

‘Yes, of course,’ He took a step closer to you, ‘but I will miss these moments.’

‘Oh,’ you were startled by his proximity, unsure how to respond. Politely, you smiled and tried to keep the conversation going, ‘I’ve enjoyed them too, uhmm-’, but you were suddenly thrown off-guard when you felt his hands on you. Before he had the chance to do anything, you were quick to push him off. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Taking our last chance before it’s too late.’ He leaned in again, and you stepped back.

‘What about your–’

‘She does not need to know.’ The sea was a free playing field for most men, so what happened out there was not up to the women at home to know. You had seen adultery but never thought the admiral would participate in such activities. He had been drinking; maybe he wasn’t thinking straight. Before he would make any more mistakes, you attempted to walk away, but he caught you by the arm, putting all his strength into the hold.

‘Admiral, you’re hurting me.’ You tried to pull your arm back, and this is where things began to change. Where the dream made itself apparent. Carver’s handsome features turned into vicious angles as he spoke.

‘So you’ll kiss Munson, but not me?’

‘What- what are you–’ you tried to get away, but it was as if he grew in size. And there were flashes. These flashes of light. Like lightning, there was no thunder, rain, or light. It blinded you, and you tried to regain your sight by blinking, but each time you did so, he seemed to change right in front of you.

There was him like you knew him, but the next second he turned into this nightmarish version of himself, but there were moments when he wasn’t himself at all. You’d blink, and suddenly you saw Captain Munson. Still in that uniform, however, you would try to make sense of it all. Still, before you could, he would disappear again, and you would be looking into Carver’s blank eyes, and you’d see the blood dripping from his mouth as he spat out his words.

‘Don’t trust him.’

‘What?’ You had tears in your eyes, and your wrist burned from his touch. There was another flash of light. Eddie stood before you again, just as you knew him.

‘Do not trust him.’

Don’t trust who? Who were you meant to trust, then? The questions rang through you as you woke up, head throbbing with pain, limbs sore and dehydrated. If you did not know any better, you would have blamed the rum you consumed the night before on everything, making you imagine all that had happened. Still, the sensation that Eddie had left on your whole body felt too real to be just a drunken dream or nightmare.

He was not in the cabin when you awoke, but you could hear him outside, yelling commands out. When you looked outside the window, you could tell by how the waves moved that you had departed the Saint Claire harbour and were on your way again.

You sat up in bed but remained still afterwards, uncertain what to do next. Some part of you wanted to go outside and see Eddie, talk to him about whatever it was that had happened that night. Still, a bigger side of you doubted you could ever look him in the eye again. Seeing your reflection from the glass doors of a cabinet in the room, of yourself in his bed, made you feel bad enough. So, staying in the room for the rest of the day was not an option either. You were already at the door, hand on the handle, when it opened, nearly crashing into you.

‘Sorry,’ his apology was muffled.

‘I was just on my way out,’ you muttered in the same awkward tone and walked past him.

‘Wait,’ Eddie reached for you, and the memory of your dream of Carver made you retract away from him, regretting it as soon as you did. Eddie wasn’t him, but you treated him the same because of something your exhausted mind had decided to conjure up. Eddie kept his distance. ‘Can we talk?’

‘Later,’ you pleaded. This was not the right time. You could tell that it would not end well if you stayed there.

But when would it be right? When would the stars align correctly for you to speak? It certainly wasn’t the next two days, as you kept walking in circles around eachother. You avoided him like the plague, and it was unlikely that he had not noticed yet.

You kept yourself occupied with anyone else but him, really. Talking to Robin, Steve, and anyone else who seemed to require company as much as you. Almost as much, at least. It shocked you as well as them how smoothly the conversations went. While only a little was exchanged, neither side being too keen on sharing too much of their past, somehow, you still managed to fill hours with polite pleasantries. Some even showed you how to work around the ship, probably more than happy to give you some of their workload now. You didn’t mind. It was alright if it stopped you from overthinking everything that had happened in the past weeks. But it was still hard to do when you felt Eddie’s eyes on you. He’d watch you work the sails or anything else from afar, but when you’d try and catch him, he’d be suddenly occupied with something and walk away.

The biggest surprise, however, came one evening when everyone had gathered for their final meal of the day. You had gotten your portion and were ready to return to the cabin when Robin pointed to the seat between her and Steve. You wanted to politely decline, feeling like you did not strictly belong in this dynamic—the crew’s meals felt more sacred, a moment for them to spend together, but they all saw your argument coming and shut it down.

‘Never thought I’d say this,’ Wheeler, one of the lankier crewmates, said at some point, ‘but I might actually miss you.’ There was a cloud of agreeable laughter to which you belonged. It was funny, but what scared you was that you would miss them too when that eventual day of your return home would come.

And it was coming.

Something about the air around you began to feel more familiar each day. And when you talked to Robin, you could sense that she knew how much time there was left. But each time you asked, she avoided answering straightforwardly.

‘Not sure. But you know how seatravels are, you can never be sure… I mean, we should have been there days ago and yet,’ she laughed nervously, tying knots in a piece of old rope that someone had cut off once.

‘I suppose you’re right.’ You had your own piece of rope and were toying with the frayed ends, pulling them apart mindlessly. You could hear Eddie talking to someone somewhere around, and you did your best not to look up. It had been days, but your tension still felt raw and strange. You wanted to simultaneously run into his arms and run away from him as far as possible, and you could not figure out which urge was the right one to follow.

‘It probably won’t take much longer, don’t worry.’ Robin said, her shoulder slumping as she untied another knot to remake it.

‘I’m not worried,’ you admitted.

‘No, and you don’t need to be,’ Robin panicked, not wanting to give you the wrong impression of what she had intended to say, ‘but I’m sure you’ll be glad to be home.’ To this, you had no response because, very much like in your last days on your old ship, you had been eagerly awaiting your return home but did not feel like you were actually happy to go back. On top of that, you actually had the sense that you would miss this crew. By leaving, you would be leaving something behind, and you had never felt that before.

But it still did not feel right. Like a kink in your neck that you were trying to stretch out until it disappeared.

‘Can I ask you something?’ you said cautiously.

Robin glanced up from her rope. ‘You always scare me when you say that.’

‘I hadn’t noticed I did it often.’

‘You’re quite inquisitive. It’s commendable, but dangerous.’

‘Should I be scared?’ You blinked.

‘Not here, but in other parts of the world they’re not too keen on it, so just beware.’ She had tied a knot she couldn’t loosen anymore. ‘But what was your question?’

You took a deep breath. ‘Why did you target the Red Tail? And I know it was targeted, since the captain was aware what ship you were attacking.’ There was that other puzzle piece that was missing in your brain. How would he know if you were supposed to be on that ship or not?

Robin froze and dropped her rope. You watched it fall to the ground and her reaching to pick it up clumsily. Once she did, she fumbled around even more with it. ‘I’m probably not the best person to ask this; I joined the crew late, I don’t know everything that’s going on around—’ she was getting distracted, losing the point of your question, or so you thought, ‘I had only heard things, but you have to know that people around here, we trust each other and that trust is earned. We might cheat once in a while in a game of cards or dice, but some things you just can’t lie about.

‘So, I didn’t need much convincing from the captain when he said that those— that those were bad men.’

‘He told you that my crew were bad men?’

‘They needed to be punished.’ Robin shrugged, but not in the way that made you think she thought indifferent. More so that, there was nothing she could do about it. It was a brief apology to you, not for what they had done, but as if she was sorry for being the bearer of the news.

‘Punished for what?’ you asked, but Robin shook her head. Right, she wouldn’t be able to know, and you didn’t blame her. Was there anyone around willing to share more of the specifics of this situation? You felt like you had the right to explain what had brought you to their ship, but it would go past some lines of comfort for the men. Could you dare ask Eddie?

But to ignore him for days just to come up with these questions could not be appreciated; then again, he owed you at least this after being the sole reason for your presence on this ship in the first place. He had caused all this mess. He could at least help you clean it up.

You finished your conversation with Robin slowly, without any urgency to actually put it to an end. It must have been confusing to Robin, who saw how you tried to tie your sentences up to walk away, just to disentangle them just as she had been doing with her rope and keep pulling it back. Ultimately, she stopped it all and excused herself from the argument she needed back on her lookout post. She walked away, giving you this look that made it clear to you that she knew what you were planning to do and how apprehensive you were to do it. And whatever for? You had fought, punched, slapped and kissed Eddie in the past days without hesitation; why could you not just talk to him now?

Because that would actually mean something to you. It would unblur all the lines that connected you into a clear pattern, and you would have to live with those results, and you just were not ready for that yet.

You took deep breaths as you walked up to the captain’s quarters. The door creaked as it slid open but was met with a resistant force as you collided with Eddie. He grunted lightly at the impact, and you began to apologise.

‘Sorry,’ you mumbled, not expecting him to be so close suddenly. You had hoped to catch him at his desk, where the furniture could keep some kind of barrier between you. Still, now he stood mere inches away, towering over you and the heat of his body radiating onto yours.

‘I was just on my way out.’ He scratched his beard casually, but his eyes said enough about how similarly he felt about your sudden appearance.

‘I hoped we could talk,’ you blurted out, and Eddie blinked.

‘Talk? Now?’ To this, you only nodded shyly. It had been too long. You had made him wait for days, which was simply too long. Why would he want to listen to what you had to say now? Eddie was ready to brush past you, but you were quicker, catching his arm and pulling eachother closer until your lips met in a chaste kiss. The suddenness stunned him, but for a blink of an eye before his muscles melted into position around you. It only confirmed your worst thoughts, how perfectly the two of you fit together, how your bodies simply locked into place with one another. The heat that grew between you could not only be felt by you. It was too strong for that. As much as you did not want to admit it, there was something there that you did not want to lose.

‘I’m sorry, ‘you said breathlessly, ‘for everything I’ve done in the past few days.’

‘You have done nothing to apologise for.’ He sighed.

‘Exactly,’ you jumped back at how loud you sounded. Still, his pull on your waist kept you close, ‘I have done nothing, while I should have stayed here with you, and we should have talked of, of whatever it is that stands between us, but—but I was scared. I thought I hadn’t been, but I was, and that, in turn, scared me even more, so I thought I needed time to think—’

‘And did you?’ He looked down at you inquisitively like he was observing a strange, yet highly fascinating, phenomenon in front of him. Something that he should not be enjoying as much as he was. The unwanted smirk appeared on his lips no matter how hard he tried to hide it. It made you aware of just how much you had tried to say in what short of an amount of time.

‘Yes,’ you said with a slow breath to help you calm down. At this, Eddie simply reacted with a gesture telling you to go on, to tell him what kind of discovery you had made. Would it be anything that could help your conundrum? Clear things up in your heads and maybe even hearts? You could not be sure, but it was a start if you just let those parts of you speak freely.

You took one more deep breath. ‘That night you asked me if I was scared, and I said “no”, but…’ you pushed past the shake of your voice. ‘But I realise now that that wasn’t the truth.’ As you announced this, the hand on your waist tightened its grip before leaving your body entirely. The immediate lack of contact made you regret your choice of words. Maybe you should have prepared what to say, but letting it come out unrehearsed and unplanned felt like the right thing to do. It would not cut out any of the emotions you felt. What you wanted him to know that you thought, so you stammered out your following words.

‘There is so much that I am scared of. It scares me how and how much I have changed in the past few days, and I am scared that I do not mind it. It scares me how much I enjoy being here and how much I want to be… with you.’ Your last words faded as you had not expected to hear yourself say them out loud. Eddie, who you had watched as he walked around the room in slow paces as he listened, must not have expected them, too, for he stopped to stare at you, dumbfounded.

‘Why?’ was the only thing he said in response.

‘Because…’ you let out an exasperated sigh, walking up to him. You had somehow managed to find yourselves at his throne, ‘because this is not who I am supposed to be. I shouldn’t be. You are you; I am me, and nothing here is right.’ Yet the puzzle had never fit tighter together than it did now. But at the same time… ‘As much as I want to spend my days with you, I cannot stop thinking about all the chaos you have caused in my life. Whether on purpose or not…There is blood on your hands, Eddie.’ there were tears in your eyes. Eddie looked down at his hands as if you had meant it literally. They were pale and had a shake to them, but he quickly put them down to his sides.

‘And yet you’re still here.’ He said it with a distance, more to himself than anyone else, narrating the events as if putting it all into words could make it make more sense somehow, and maybe to him, it did. However, you were still utterly clueless and running in the dark.

‘I am.’ You nodded your head lightly. ‘And I wish I could explain why. To you and to myself, but I simply do not know.’

‘Let me pose you these two questions then,’ he spoke sternly, and you got the unexpected feeling that this would be a test you had to ace. ‘Are you still scared of me? Do you regret anything that happened between us?

‘Answer yes to either of my questions,’ he held two fingers up, ‘and I will make all of this very easy for you and disappear. You will never have to see me again but be honest.’ Looking into his eyes the way you were, it was difficult to lie, or it would have been if you had any intention of doing so. The word came easier to you than anything else had in your life, but you still needed to know some things before sealing your fate.

‘Before I answer, I need to know your business with the admiral.’

Eddie scoffed, looking out the window, ‘I could not care less about the admiral.’ Something in him tensed up despite his attempt to make his reply come out casually. Everything besides his eyes, which flickered with so many emotions simultaneously, you could not distinguish between them soon enough.

‘But the attack on my ship was deliberate, was it not?’ You did not need this to become another one of your rows and spoke as carefully as you could manage. If one of you began to raise your voice or fill your words with anger, it would take over the other, exploding fatally in the middle, and that is not what you wanted.

‘What do you remember from that day?’ He looked at you, head cocked to the side as he studied your face. He saw you blink slowly, trying to understand what he was implying.

‘I remember everything.’ How could you not? It was one of the most terrifying days of your life. ‘I remember being on the deck and seeing your dark sails and how I hid under that desk as the canons went off–’

‘Whose canons?’ He stared at you blankly, and you mirrored him perfectly.

‘What?’

‘What canons did you hear go off? Who shot first?’ He did not say anything else, just stood still as you tried to reply with confidence that you lost as soon as you gave your answer some thought.

Everything had happened so quickly, and it was so loud. All you had tried was to block it out. But you heard the bangs. They came from all sides, but the first one... the first one was the closest.

Eddie must have seen the recognition on your face. ‘I know that those people were your friends. And I am sorry that that is how things-’

‘But you said I was not meant to be on board. You knew what ship it was.’ You cut him off at the memory. ‘You would have attacked either way, wouldn’t you?’

‘It is not that simple.’ He shook his head.

‘Isn’t it?’

‘No, and I wish I could explain, but I fear that whatever I tell you will only make you see the worst in me and them.’

‘You could at least try.’ You reached for his hand, and a bit of you leapt in relief when you saw he did not pull away. ‘I want to understand, Eddie. You do not know how horrible it is to live in this realm of uncertainty and oblivion.’

‘Would you rather live with the horrors of the truth?’ He asked genuinely, with the pain that exactly this truth had caused him in his eyes.

‘Is that not a choice I deserve to make by myself?’ You once again found yourself up against him. Funny how it always came back to this and how you would not have wanted it any other way.

‘You’ve said it yourself; I’ve hurt you enough times. I can not risk doing it again. I will not let myself do that.’ He brushed a strand of hair from your face, brushing his fingers over your cheek. ‘Now, will you please answer my questions?’

‘No,’ and with that, you answered both. Whatever tugged at you from the inside to feel such anxiety had nothing to do with Eddie.

On the contrary, you felt a sense of calm whenever you saw him. And you had wanted, really wanted, to regret those kisses, but you still dreamt of them at night, and it was all with a magical wonder that you wished to experience once more. Despite everything in your life that had led to this that would have told you to turn around and run away, you stayed firmly in your place in front of him with no intention of ever running away again.

Eddie leaned in, and you anticipated a kiss that never came as he spoke against the corner of your mouth, sending shivers down your spine. ‘I need you to say it, darling.’

‘I’m not scared of you, Eddie.’ The tremble in your voice had nothing to do with fear but all with the way he held you. His hand had moved down your cheek onto your neck, fingers wrapped around your throat, thumb caressing your jaw. His eyes pierced through you. ‘And I do not regret anything.’

You knew Eddie had seen all the far corners of the world. You must have come across the grandest of riches. Yet standing in front of him, you could not help but think how seeing Captain Eddie Munson beam his most genuine smile was the rarest and most beautiful treasure of them all. It was infectious; you could not help but smile at it.

He let himself come close again, but just as your lips were about to touch, he spoke instead. Right against you, the hot air of his breath pricked at your skin with his light laugh. ‘Before all of this, had you ever imagined yourself here with me?’

As much as you had wished it was not true, ‘I did, actually.’ Your mind flashed to your dreams, the ones you had once thought were conjured up to plague you, but now you realised it was just your heart screaming out your deepest desires.

Like a reward, Eddie kissed your cheek for your reply. ‘Really? The princess had thought of me, a filthy pirate?’

‘I’m not a princess.’ You rolled your eyes playfully.

‘Out of all the things to dispute, you argue my words of affection?’ He chuckled, and you could feel the vibrations deep within his chest.

‘There was nothing else to correct.’ You wanted to laugh but instead froze at the sensation of Eddie lightly putting pressure on your throat as he was still kissing pieces of your face. Just like that, everything in the past minutes disappeared from your mind. When he pulled away, you saw the mischievous glint in his eyes that once used to bring out fear of the worst in you.

‘Glad to know you haven’t changed too much, darling.’ With his hand around you, he gave you little choice but to look up at him. There was a moment in which both of you took everything of the other in. You tried to soak in all his features from this small distance, for some reason feeling the need to remember them all. Meanwhile, he read your face for any signs of reluctance, which he found none of. ‘You enjoyed that, didn’t you, princess?’

A question which brought a lot of enjoyment out of him.

Still taken aback by his actions, you stood there with your lips slightly parted, bewildered, so all you did was nod. And again, your response was rewarded with another kiss, finally letting you meet his lips while tightening his hold on you. The weak sound that came out of your mouth at the feeling was an instinct. You had never heard yourself make such a sound, and he must have known it somehow as his grin grew wider against you.

The kiss grew in strength by the fleeting second as you both lost control over your bodies, just letting them speak for themselves. It was messy and heated. The pent-up tension that had been sitting between you was finally finding its release. Eddie’s hands roamed over your body, almost in a hunger-like manner, devouring you with his touch alone. Maybe this hunger felt too real when Eddie’s teeth grazed over your neck, sending an unknown spark through your body at the sensation.

You held onto him tightly, one hand on his shoulder as the other rooted itself in his dark locks—which made you soon realise that the tiniest of motions of you caused a reaction in him as well, in the form of a low hiss as you pulled the hairs on the back of his neck. It had been an accident, as you tried to keep yourself up when the pleasure he brought you made you feel light as a feather.

Eddie hummed at your response as his hands continued their wandering path across your body. The pressure of his palms, combined with the slow and tantalising pace at which he moved, drove you to press your body eagerly against him, which, in turn, only spurred him on to continue down this track of your curves. His movements got rougher as he kept going.

With your urge to keep your bodies close, you quickly caught on Eddie walking backwards. You followed him mindlessly until he found his throne seat and pulled you along with him, right on top of his lap. At this proximity, you could feel all of him underneath you.

‘Tell me,’ he kissed you briefly between words, ‘have you ever been with a man before?’

‘Yes,’ you dared to reply with the truth. Anywhere else, it would have been considered a great shame, a sin of the highest degree, but with Eddie, somehow, you felt like he had wanted that to be your answer. You tried to focus on his face, that smile he shot up at you and the short answer you gave him, instead of how his hands roamed over your thighs. Even with the fabric of your trousers in between, his effect on you was immense. He must have felt how you tensed up when he reached your core.

‘Did anyone ever touch you like this?’

‘Uhm, no, not in this way.’ You struggled with the words as he let his fingers press over your most sensitive parts, everywhere all at once. You could barely keep track of it. Another moan escaped you as his hand moved over your breast. Even with the fabric keeping your modesty intact, he had still found a way for his fingers to move smoothly across your nipples. The feeling lulled you into comfort, brewing the heat inside your chest. And so, you gasped as, with one aggressive pull, Eddie ripped the material of your shirt in two, revealing you to him entirely. Your eyes were wide in shock as his darkened with want.

‘Not scared of me yet, are you, princess?’ His hand was on your ribs, waiting for permission to touch your bare skin.

‘No,’ your voice sounded like a hushed, airy whisper. Eddie smiled but still hesitated with his subsequent actions. As the shirt sleeve fell off your shoulder, he kissed you again. Except this time, his lips met your breast. The arch in your back, the tug of your hips towards him, was an almost mechanised reaction to it. And with it came the friction of his thigh against you.

‘Eddie.’ His name sounded shaky coming from you as you could barely inhale a steady breath, too occupied with him.

‘That’s right, princess.’ He groaned as his lips remained on your skin, kissing the valley of your chest. With each kiss, your want for him grew, but your movements over his thigh barely covered the needed friction. You dug your nails into his shoulders, making him groan out in pained pleasure. He cursed before taking you by the hips. ‘Stand up.’

You did as he asked, something that did not go unnoticed by either of you. Eddie chuckled as he looked up at you, chin on your stomach, lips nearly pressing against it, so close you could feel the vibrations of his voice.

‘So you can be good for me.’

A snide remark was already forming on the tip of your tongue, but Eddie was quicker. Smoothly, he pulled down your trousers and let them pool at your ankles. You stood in front of him in only your torn-up shirt. His large eyes were on you up until the moment his face made contact with your core, and at that moment, everything went black. You could just about make out that you held him close to you, pulling at his hair; as for the rest, the world was turning upside down and around at a speed that made everything seem like a sea full of stars. Your moans filled the room as his tongue licked through your slit.

You assumed that with how he held you with one hand, his fingers would leave marks for days, but the other was much lower. You could hear the sound of a belt unbuckling. He was clearly struggling to work around his clothes with only one hand, especially with most of him already preoccupied with you and your pleasure. Never before had you seen such kind of ferocity in a man. Not when he pulled himself closer to you and practically fell to his knees from the throne. You surely would have fallen back if it had not been for him and the desk that hit your legs and now acted as an extra grip. It was especially needed when Eddie pulled your leg over his shoulder, gaining even more access to you.

The desk kept sliding back with the force at which he held you in your place, grazing the floor, but it was all blocked out by your moans. They were filled with curses and the repetition of his name as your vision blurred with ecstasy and your body tightened with need. There was no possible way that the rest could not hear you through the thin walls of the cabin, but you could not care less about them. At this moment, they simply did not exist.

‘You taste absolutely divine.’ Eddie spoke while kissing your inner thigh, making your legs even weaker. You noticed his lips glistening, never looking more kissable than ever before.

He had run your mind through a mill; words were hard to come by. All you could muster out was a weak hum as you let your hand brush through his hair. At that, he nuzzled himself between your legs again, this time much gentler, and took his time kissing every inch of skin he had access to, giving you the time to catch your breath while still keeping you on that high edge.

‘I—I never…’ you still struggled to form a sentence.

‘Hmm,’ he kissed your stomach, ‘I know.’ And he slowly rose to his feet, catching your face in one more passionate kiss. You had gotten so used to how he tasted—rum, tobacco, sea air— that your flavour threw you off for a moment, but soon enough, you were sinking into him just as before. And again, you could hear the struggling twinkle of a locked belt buckle.

‘Would you be a doll,’ he said with his amusement running down your cheek, ‘and help a poor man out.’

You reached for his trousers, undoing the belt and unbuttoning them so they could drop down his thighs. You had felt it before, how aroused he had grown, but seeing it made you take a step back.

‘Nothing to be afraid of, darling.’ He grinned, placing a hand on your cheek. The other made itself comfortable between your legs, toying with your wetness.

‘I know.’ You looked into his eyes. The warmth of them had burned up into a dark and hungry desire. Putting a light pressure onto his shoulders, you pushed him back down into the chair. Eddie practically bounced in the seat, taking you all in as much as you took the moment to look at him. Your flicker of confidence in the moment when you thought you knew what you were doing fizzled, but he must have read that off of you, as the next second he was the one pulling you down.

‘Was this how you expected it to be,’ he murmured against your ear, ‘when you thought about us.’

‘No,’ you admitted. It was nothing like you had imagined. All your dreams had been of what you had thought he was; careless, dangerous, feeding off your fear. There had been none of this passion that you felt now. None of the heat, the tenderness or the feeling.

‘Anything you’d still like to change,’ he kissed the soft spot of skin behind your ear that made you shiver.

‘No,’ you gasped. You could feel him against you, just waiting for the moment to enter you. The two of you were dancing around it, letting other make that next move, the plunge off the cliff, with no return. You shuffled over his thighs. One more kiss would seal the final deal when you moved your hips up and he adjusted himself infront of you.

The moan you let out at the feeling of him inside you, of him stretching your walls and filling you whole, was impossible to miss. Ships from miles away could probably tell what was going on, but again, they were not a part of your universe in this moment. Just you. You concentrated at the pace he was making you keep up with. The roll of your hips against the grind of his. Each thrust went deeper and harder making Eddie more aggressive in the most blissful of ways. There was nothing else to think about, because why would you when this felt so good? Reality went lost on you, until you felt his fingers dig into your side, a pain rushing through you.

Both of you froze.

‘What’s wrong?’ Eddie immediately looked to where he had held you, pulling the remaining pieces of your shirt up to reveal the scar. The rough skin was a stark contrast to the rest of you. He met your eyes again. ‘Does it still hurt?’

‘It’s just sensitive.’ You wanted to push his hand away, cover the mark up again so neither of you had to be reminded of it. It had been a stupid mistake, that much you knew, and it was not as if you could change the past, so why let it pester you? But Eddie was not the kind to give up easily. He pushed the shirt material back up, keeping your hand away from him, to inspect the damage he had caused.

‘I’ve done a lot in my life that I will forever regret,’ he kissed your shoulder as his thumb traced over the scarred line, ‘but this will probably haunt me the longest.’ His words and touch, combined with how you sat in his lap, still full of him, got you lost for words. Because, of course, you had hoped that this was his sentiment, you understood and appreciated his words, but what else was there to say? The only thing you could think of replying, which felt silly to do seeing your current position, was ask for some clarification.

‘What happened? I would have thought you had more control over your sword than that.’ You aired the conversation with a bit of laughter, but it only spurred him on to thrust deeper into you.

‘I had thought so too,’ he kept moving his hips forcefully, ‘I had hoped so,’ he kissed you sloppily, ‘but I lost it all when I saw you with him.’

‘Who?’ you asked. Maybe under different circumstances, you could have thought more clearly to realise what he was speaking of, but that did not seem possible.

‘Harrington,’ the name came out of him with a bitter taste. Apparently, the feelings from that day had not disappeared as far as he had thought, but now he could let these frustrations out in a less hazardous manner. It still took a toll on you, but there was no pain to speak of. Just pure pleasure.

Still, the mention of the crew member had surprised you. ‘Why– why would you—’

‘The way he held you, smiled at you, don’t you think I had wanted to do that? From the moment I saw you—but all I did was drive you away. It was just another reminder of my failure and before I knew it I—’ he stopped himself, still unable to properly speak of what happened. You kissed the bridge of his nose.

‘For what it’s worth,’ you tugged at the words to come out cohesively, ‘I never thought of him as—’

‘It does not even matter what you think of him,’ he laughed, more so at himself, ‘You could fall for and by happy with any man on this earth and I could make my peace with it. I just don’t want to be the reason for your suffering.’

‘I think—’ a moan burst through your thought with another deep thrust, ‘I think you have managed to pay back any of your wrongdoings.’

‘Oh, darling, I haven’t even started to repay my debts.’ And so, Eddie kissed your neck, over and over, and with those kisses moved down to your brest. Your head rolled back with a soft whine at the attention he gave you, if not with his mouth, than the hand that kneaded your flesh and played with your nipples.

As he kept going, and as your hips met his and the pleasure burst through you, you could feel everything coming to a close. The tightness in your body swelled while your control over it strayed. There was no possible way you could hold on for much longer and from the looks of it, Eddie had no plans on making you wait. He bucked his hips into you harder and harder, almost impossibly for you to keep it all in. You could explode with this pleasure and that is exactly what he wanted.

‘Mmm c’mon, princess. Feel so good around me,’ he hummed, ‘could anyone make you feel this good?’

‘Just you,’ you moaned out, holding tightly on to him as you felt the tension build up in you.

‘That’s right,’ he had a smug smile across his face that you wished you could wipe off, and you would if you did not need him to keep doing whatever it was he did. Were his fingers back between your legs? Rubbing tight circles, sparking up your sensitivity. ‘Just me.’

‘Just you, Eddie,’ his named squeaked out from between your teeth when he reached the deepest part of you.

‘I’ll never get enough of you saying my name.’

‘Eddie,’ you repeated it in in a haze with his final thrusts that finally brought you over the edge. Stars fell over you in pleasure as Eddie slowed down his movements, letting you come down from the high. He held you tightly in his arms as you let your head fall on his shoulder until you fell into a comfortable silence. There was only the rush of the waves and your tired breaths that filled your ears.

Once your heart settled back to a steady pace, you knew it wasn’t safe. As good as this moment felt, it wouldn’t last. Whatever this was, there was no possibility in which it would outlive this voyage. Then, once it was over, it would hurt. That much you knew. Possibly more than anything had hurt before, and you would just have to be on the lookout for that end until then to let yourself become at peace with it. There wasn’t another choice, as this idea always stayed with you in the back of your head from that moment on. When you fell asleep in Eddie’s arms that night, you thought how many more days you got to wake to in such bliss as you did the next morning.

You could not tell if Eddie had these troubles, you could not tell, for he went through his following days much like before. The only difference was that his free minutes were now occupied with you.

It had not been your intention to make it so obvious to the crew, but there was also so little you could hide from them. Nothing could escape the dozens of interested eyes, so why hide your affection towards their captain? He certainly was not making any attempts. Any chance he got, he found himself at your side, holding you, kissing you, then behind closed doors, do all the other unspeakable things to you that made the others turn green of envy.

Your mornings and afternoons were much the same as they had been before the night of the storm and the Hellfire’s arrival at Saint Claire, as you still spent it in each other's company. The difference was now that instead of being separated by the large oak desk, Eddie would often pull you into his lap to sit in the throne, if not making himself comfortable with you on the bed. The nights began with kisses and limbs tangled with eachother and merged into a joined slumber. Unfortunately, as happy as your days felt, it would not stop the nightmares from coming, but each time you would awake in a cold sweat or with shaking hands, he would be right there to coax you back to peace. What surprised you, however, was that you would do the same to him.

Somehow, the thought of the notorious captain waking up screaming in the middle of the night, chest heaving, eyes wide with fear, had never occurred to you. You had never imagined him reaching for your thigh to ground himself as his reality spiralled in the dark.

‘Shh,’ you held him tightly, ‘it’s okay.’

Neither of you asked what the dreams were about, knowing you could do nothing about them. You could just help the other through it. And then, each time, the dreams that followed were much sweeter.

Then you’d wake up in each other’s arms long before the rest of the world seemed to. Those few blissful moments where nothing could disturb you and the time you could spend in that bed was endless.

Except it very much was not. And you realised it exactly through what you thought would be your escape.

It was a sunny morning. The golden sunrays illuminated the cabin as you reached for Eddie, just to find the side of the bed to be empty. Only his impression in the covers, the faint temperature his body had radiated onto them, was still there. It could not have been long since he had gotten up, and indeed, you caught him standing at the window—leaning against it, more like. His trousers were loose on his hips, and his shirt was still on the ground around you.

Grabbing that shirt and throwing it over your naked body, you walked over to him, and he looked in your direction as soon as he heard your footsteps. The smile in his eyes was genuine but weak. As soon as you were close enough, he pulled you into an embrace, twirling you around so your back would hit his chest and you could look out at the sea. With how the sunrays sparkled across the waves, it all felt like a dream, too good to be true, but you did not know yet that the dream was at the end of its tether.

‘I really am sorry,’ he mumbled, having his face already nuzzled in the crook of your neck, kissing the spot where it met your shoulder.

‘What for?’ Apologies had become a frequent appearance in his vocabulary, showing up in almost every conversation, if not sentence.

‘You know.’ Yes, you did know. For everything. He held a moment of silence, enjoying your presence in his arms for a little longer, before speaking again. ‘I just keep thinking about how everything between us happened, and if it had not been for me, we could have had more.’

‘I’m just as guilty.’ You had been stubborn, aggressive, and just as blind to your feelings.

‘Highly doubtful statement.’ He laughed, and his breath tickled the hairs on your neck.

‘I don’t think so.’ You shrugged in his hold.

‘Still just as stubborn, aren’t you, princess.’ He squeezed you tighter.

‘Is that not one of my most desirable attributes?’ You spun yourself around in his hold and quickly wrapped your arms around him. Doing so, hearing his tone and joy in his voice, you had expected to see him smiling, but he looked just as sombre as when you had walked up to him. ‘What’s wrong?’ Your hand mindlessly began to trace over the scars on his chest, knowing it brought comfort to both you and him by now.

Eddie shook his head, holding back a laugh. ‘You know…’ he kissed your forehead, ‘when I woke up, I saw you lying there, with the sun shining on your face, and you looked so peaceful, I had honesty considered just locking you away and keeping you forever, but I am a man of my word, am I not?’

‘I…don’t understand.’ You tried to see the meaning behind his words in his eyes, but there was nothing, and it only got harder to figure out when he held his forehead against yours, keeping you close. You still tried to make sense of what he said when you saw it. There, in the far back corner of your eye. So far, it could have been a play of light, and yet it was more real than anything. So undeniably real it crushed everything around you without question.

From the angle the ship stood at, that was as much as you could envision through the windows, and thus you ran out of the room. As much as you did not want to leave Eddie behind, knowing it could be one of the last moments the two of you had, you ran out onto the deck to meet the silhouette of mountains against the rising sun. The longer you looked at it, the clearer the details became. The ridges of the mountains, the forests, the watch towers and houses. The uniformed ships that stood in the harbour.

You knew this day was coming, you had been waiting for it, and yet, now that it was right there in front of you, you wished to be as far from it as possible. In what must have been shock, you took a couple of steps back just to collide with something—someone. You turned around to see Eddie and his soft but sad smile.

‘Welcome home,’ he announced.

Home, sweet home.

Your head turned between him and the land in the too-near distance, waiting for one of them to disappear, maybe even both. Why was this so difficult for your mind to comprehend? Why were the first words to come from your mouth, ‘Can we turn back?’

‘As much as I would want to,’ he sighed, ‘I’m sure they’ve noticed us by now.’ They must have. The watchers in those towers had the eyes of hawks, one of the reasons why your town was named after the bird.

‘So, what do we do?’ This is not how someone who is to be returning to their family after months spent with criminals was meant to respond. Everything about this was so wrong.

‘Go put your dress on.’ Eddie cocked his head back to the cabin. ‘I doubt they will appreciate you wearing this, as much as I adore it on you.’ That is when you realised you stood out on the main deck wearing only his shirt. ‘I’ll meet you in a few minutes.’ And with that, he gave you that look he had given you all those times before when you had been too headstrong in your own actions. Please, listen to me. It will be alright.

You walked back, feeling like you were floating, but not anywhere near the same way that you had the previous few days. It did not feel like you were weightless, on a cloud, free of worry or from the world. You were drifting. Far out into the abyss with nothing to hold on to. In this same state, you walked over to the wardrobe, where you had hung your dress, removed the item of clothing you had on and put on the old and tethered garment. It had once fit you like a glove, but you were far from the person it was measured for.

Just as you finished putting it on, the door opened, and Eddie walked in.

You didn’t want to look at him. Not because of anger, you had, after all, no reason to be angry at him at that moment, but because you were sure that if you looked into those brown irises again, you would break down. He must have had the same idea as you as he walked past you, only grabbing the nearest shirt off the rack, and making a headway to the desk.

‘What are you going to do now?’ After all, that had been what pulled you two together, the money your father would offer for your return. That is what kept you on this ship safe for as long as it did… although, in retrospect, you doubted that Eddie would have ever done anything to you. Maybe he had always intended to bring you home before even speaking to you. Perhaps the money made no difference. But funnily enough, you wanted him to get it. Something in you, a deep instinct, told you that it was what he deserved.

‘Write a random note,’ he said, and you could see he was doing his best not to laugh. ‘Then we’ll send the note out, hope it reaches your dearest, and we’ll make the exchange.’ His words were quick and emotionless, but you noted the hint of novice apprehension in his plan.

‘You’ve never done this before, have you?’ you asked as you made your way up to the chair across from him.

‘Try not to sound too disappointed over my lack of experience in selling beautiful maidens back to their prosperous fathers.’

‘Not at all,’ you shook your head, grabbing the piece of parchment and quill from him. ‘But let me. It will be proof of life, and besides, your handwriting is unrecognisable. He won’t be able to read any of it.’

Eddie stared at you blankly as you began writing.

Dear father,

But what were you to write? The ink dripped off the quill as you pondered on the words. For a message that was quite clear, it was hard to actually phrase it and write it out. By the time you had signed your name at the bottom of the page, the Hellfire had almost reached the coast. You read it through once more:

Dear Father,

I know it has been a long time since you last heard from me. The Red Tail is no more; I was the only survivor, to my knowledge, saved by a crew of rogue sailors. They have kept me locked away but are willing to free me for the price of 5.000 pounds. Please meet me at noon at the Star Port for the exchange.

Love,

Your daughter,

—

You had decided against the mention of piracy or anything specific about the ship’s sinking, knowing that it would only drive your father away from pain the ransom. Eddie had been unable to keep still while you wrote your drafts but now stood behind you, hands on the backrest of your chair, reading the note along with you, over your shoulder.

‘Who would have thought, my darling extorting her own father.’

‘I am doing no such thing!’ You looked up at him, ‘I am simply… aiding you in extorting my father.’ when it came to this, you had little sympathy for your father. He had plenty of money to spare and often spent it on ridiculous causes. A faux rescue of his only daughter could surely fit in between those other purchases.

There was a knock on the door, which Eddie welcomed, and Harrington walked in.

‘Got any mail for me to deliver, cap?’ it had been unanimously agreed that Harrington was the most inconspicuous of the whole crew and would be able to walk through the city unbothered to deliver the message.

You had just been in the middle of folding the parchment. The last thing left was to let the wax melt to keep the corners together. With the seal done, you handed Steve the letter. He smiled at you with thanks, but his face hid an expression of loss, almost. A farewell. But before he left, you clutched him in an embrace, almost knocking Steve over.

When the door closed behind him, it was only a matter of waiting. After your fifth round of pacing through the room, Eddie walked up in front of you, blocking your already quite well-outlined route. He had met you right in the middle.

‘I would prefer if you did not spend our last moments together walking holes into my carpet.’

‘You do not have a carpet,’ you quipped.

‘Must you be so difficult now?’ He laughed that laugh you cherished so much before he placed his hands on your cheeks and kissed you the way you adored even more. The sun was almost at its peak, and so was your heart, and you had no idea what to do when it would finally fall. Either way, you would find out in a few minutes.

‘Do you think—’

‘Highly doubtful,’ Eddie said somberly before you could even finish your thought. ‘You had said it yourself, darling; you are you, I am me. This is not meant to work.’ But what if it could, you wanted to shout, shocking yourself for the millionth time on board this ship.

‘Well, then it had been an honour being your captive, captain.’ You said with a deep breath to keep your composure up.

‘Oh, don’t look so sad just yet, princess, the real fun is only about to begin.’ At this statement, you blinked slowly. ‘Or did you think you were done aiding me?’

‘What else do you need me to do?’

‘Since you mentioned it, I think we need to make you look the part of my sweet captive. Make your father believe we really had kept you all good and locked up, hmm?’ He grinned. ‘I really did not do a good job at this, did I? Got you all spoiled up here.’

‘It was much appreciated.’ You giggled, incapable of keeping a straight face when Eddie got like this. Looking back, you could barely imagine the cold and dark exterior that he had once posed in front of you since he had been an entirely different person underneath that. Then again, so were you. ‘So, what did you have in mind?’

‘A lot,’ he licked his lips, ‘but I don’t think we have the time for that. We’ll probably have to do with tying you up like a pretty gift—just your hands, of course,’ he quickly added as he saw your eyes widen. ‘And I’ll be sure to not make it too tight.

‘Alright,’ you nodded. After all, you trusted him. You watched him look through the room for something to wrap around your hands. In the end, he found a piece of rope hanging among the many items on his wall. It was a bit too long for even the intricate, but relatively weak, knot he tied over your wrists—enough to give the impression of captivity, but in reality, barely grazed your wrists. He made sure to check.

And then it was time. You walked out of the cabin for the final time. The room in which you had spent so many tumultuous days and nights. A silly part of you wanted to actually run down the ladder into the lower deck to see the holding cell one last time. For what reason, you could not fathom.

Eddie guided you with a hand on your back, down the gangplank, which wobbled with every step you took. You tried to keep your breathing under control, but then again, if this had been a real threat to your life, you would probably feel similarly. The walk down the harbour was the longest of your life. There just came no end to it, and you could not, frustratingly enough, make your mind up if you wanted that or not. After all, each step closer to the port was one step further away from him… and when had you become so dependent on him? Weeks ago, you had thought up visions of killing him in his sleep; now, you could not think of life without him.

Your thoughts were still fighting for some kind of cohesion when you saw him walk down the street. Accompanied by his usual entourage of guards. Two of them carried a large trunk between them, which must have been filled with gold or other treasures to meet the demand.

‘Papa!’ You screamed out; an incautious urge to run towards him propelled you forward, just to be pulled back by Eddie. You glanced his way, and your breath hitched at what you saw. In the short amount of time that might have felt like an eternity that it took you to walk down the harbour, he had turned into what you could only describe as his old self. The same version of him that you had seen when you were “welcomed’ aboard the Hellfire. The Eddie that terrorised your nightmares. His eyes were pointed like daggers at your father.

He, in turn, stood aback at the sight of who had been holding you. Most of the men around him did, in fact. It caused a bit of a stir, the murmur of his name travelled in disbelief, but Eddie was the first to speak up in full volume.

‘Governor. I see we meet again.’

‘Munson.’ Your father always had the skill to look unimpressed at the sight of any man, always seeming to be above them, and even now, he did a good job hiding any other emotion, but you could see the crack of fear breaking him on the edges. It was, however, quickly replaced as he spoke in his usual tone of business.

‘Munson. What are you doing here?’

‘Why, returning your precious jewel, of course.’ He grinned, pulling you closer to him. Some of the guards leapt forward but were stopped by your father and Eddie, who reached for the knife at his side. All eyes were on you and him as he let the blade slowly track over your arm. ‘Don’t wanna do that, gents. It will only cost us more trouble.’

‘You got the gold, Munson, now let her go!’ There were still several feet between the two sides of the deal. Eddie looked around theatrically.

‘Do I?’ He cocked his head in his own direction. The two men in charge of the trunk hauled it over to you. You had no idea how Eddie was meant to carry it back to the ship. As they brought the gold over, your father spoke again.

‘Is she well? Unharmed?’

You nodded, but Eddie nudged you with the hilt of his knife, his lips against your ear, ‘C’mon, darling, the man’s asked you a question.’

‘I am fine, father.’ You spoke. By that point, the men reached you and, with a final kiss to your temple, Eddie let you go. You were immediately pulled out of his reach by the guards. They must have thought they were holding you up as your legs objected to moving. You were unable to look away from him. All up until you felt your face pressed against your father’s jacket.

‘There, there, it is alright,’ he hushed, and it took you a moment to realise why. You were crying. And if only he, or anyone else, understood that it was for all the opposite reasons. No fear or relief was escaping you through those tears. It was a loss as you saw Eddie standing there, bowing down at the end of his performance, blowing you a kiss goodbye.

It was the panic when you saw the rest of the people in the harbour. All of their eyes on you. On him. None of them were simple bystanders or civilians.

Your dream had been crumbling into ruin all these days, but this was the final blow. All of it came down, all at once, and it started with your father’s call.

‘Guards!’, and suddenly the tenfold of guards appeared out of all possible directions. They had him surrounded, weapons at the ready. Eddie had nowhere to run. Your father spoke clearly, cutting the silence with the blade of his words. ‘Munson, I arrest you on charges of murder and high treason!’

Chapter 10

thank you so much for reading!! if you want more of where this came from, check out my masterlist.

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loveissupernatural · 2 years

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**read chapter 1 here** - **read chapter 2 here** - **read chapter 3 here** - **read chapter 4 here**

Morpheus/Dream x fem!reader

In Your Dreams

Chapter 5

“Life is a sleep and love is its dream; and you have lived if you have loved.”

-Alfred de Musset

The following day felt longer than you would have liked. You were anxious for the sun to set, and with it, the answers that would quench the fire of burning curiosity in your mind. Why was the heart of The Dreaming rotting away? Why were you able to escape the borders of your dream and travel there, and why was Lucienne so obviously disturbed by it? Where was Dream? But, most importantly, why did you feel the need to be there in the first place? Why couldn’t you come to terms with this entire experience for the incredible magical adventure that it was and just let it go?

Even though you were filled with more questions than ever before, you could feel in the deepest recesses of your soul that the solutions to all of them lay in The Dreaming.

Your enthusiasm to return to the palace caused you to have trouble falling asleep for the first hour that night. The castle was your new Burgess house – mysteries hid there that tickled at your insides, that whispered to you in the darkness of the night to uncover them.

Finally, after tossing and turning, your eyes fluttered closed and stayed that way. Shifting shapes whirled behind your eyelids, flitting from corner to corner, until they gently settled into the outline of a horizon. A warm sun began to rise and filtered light onto the dark line, illuminating the scene for you. You instantly recognized the scent of poppies on the breeze.

That fragrant wind whipped through your hair lovingly, like the soft fingers of a curious child, swirling around your form. You spun with it, arms outstretched, grinning from ear to ear. How you wished with everything within your heart that this place was real, that this is where you could spend the waking hours of your life.

You opened your shining eyes to see the parting gate of horn and ivory before you. You hadn’t even needed to start the journey within the confines of your own dream this time – you were already here. Your path of glinting black and gold marble was still below your feet, humming with welcoming warmth.

You couldn’t contain your happiness when the dividing gates revealed a view to you that had shifted from the night before. The stretches of murky water were trickling into a singular crystal river, sparkling blue and immense. Where unforgiving rock and dark sand had suffocated the landscape, beautiful blades of grass and stretches of green ferns were beginning to emerge. You recognized your favorite flower, blooming white poppies, dancing in the breeze on the riverside. An enormous bridge was sliding into place over the river, cradled by gargantuan stone hands that surfaced from the crystal water.

Creatures were returning, beautiful and terrifying alike, flying through the milky blue sky and snaking through the growing grass around your feet. The air was no longer choked with an eerie silence; insects buzzed, water rushed, citizens of The Dreaming were laughing.

Life.

You followed the massive bridge of stone to the center, where the once-crumbling palace was being rebuilt in the gleam of glorious sunlight. Fallen walls and castle turrets were reassembling themselves brick by brick with meticulous accuracy, as if someone had hit rewind. Rusting spires were shedding their coat of orange muck and shining gold. Magnificent archways were mending their own cracks and rising tall, transforming from ashy grey to glimmering white.

The heart of The Dreaming was returning to its former glory. Pure joy blossomed in your chest like the rosebuds of a vine that was bending around the pillars of the bridge.

You walked into the castle entryway, still grinning like a fool, as you looked up and watched every shard of broken glass and every crushed stone float into the air and return to their homes. A beautiful stained-glass window was mending directly above your head. The colorful fragments gradually slid together to form the image of a Pegasus, and as the last piece fell into place, it sprang to life, neighing triumphantly and beating its wings.

“Not too shabby, huh?” came a proud voice from behind you.

You spun to see a tall scarecrow-like figure with the head of a pumpkin approaching you. His face was the cut of a jack-o-lantern, crooked mouth pulling up at the corner in a tilted smile. He stopped by your side and put his branch-like hands on his thin hips, gazing up appreciatively at the work of glass art. You tried not to stare too rudely at him.

You turned your head back toward the magnificent window, now casting rays of colored sunlight onto you and your Halloween-like companion.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” you replied truthfully.

He grunted in agreement, then looked down at you. His triangular eyes narrowed.

“Hey, ya know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around these parts before,” he said. “You new?”

Your lips upturned at his gutteral New York accent. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“Lotsa new folks all around this joint today,” he said, shaking his large head in amusement. “Guess that’s what happens when ya hammer a few nails and splash on a fresh coat a’ paint—everyone comes back to tha neighborhood.”

“It does look pretty inviting,” you agreed, turning to face him. You stuck out your hand. “I’m Y/N.”

The pumpkin-headed man stuck out his wooden hand and shook yours firmly. “I’m Mervyn, but everybody calls me Merv.”

“Hi, Merv.”

He chuckled and crossed his arms. “Well, considerin’ you bein’ new and all, why don’t I give ya a bit of a tour? It wouldn’t be my first one today.”

“I would love that,” you beamed, resisting the urge to clasp your hands together like a schoolgirl. Merv nodded and turned, motioning with his stick-like hand.

“Well, then, c'mon.”

He walked like a puppet would without strings, you thought, as you followed behind him. You struggled to keep up with his long strides. Mervyn led you through a hallway that had one wall built while the opposite was still floating together. One piece of stone almost hit him in the head on its way back to its appointed position, and he cursed at it.

Once through the hallway, you turned into a winding staircase that glinted with intricate gold. As you followed Merv’s spindly legs up the flight, you appreciated the view to your left of an assembling tower. After a few more steps, you reached the top.

“First things first, here’s our pride and joy,” Mervyn announced grandiosely, spreading out his arms for dramatic emphasis. Your jaw dropped. “This is the library.”

The room was warm wood, cozy sunlight, and beckoning shelves that stretched on for as far as the eye could see. Books were everywhere, of every size, color, and age. You ran your finger along a nearby shelf, tickling their spines. Some looked thousands of years old, others as if they’d come off the press minutes before.

“How many books are in here?” you asked in wonder, turning in a full circle to better take in the view.

“A helluva lot,” Mervyn answered slyly. “To tell you the truth, I’m not the one you should ask. Lucienne’s the librarian in charge.”

At the sound of her name, the woman that you had met the night before emerged from behind a nearby cascade of bookshelves. Her eyes smiled at Mervyn, but then they settled onto you.

Lucienne’s face paled.

“You’ve returned,” she breathed, striding toward the two of you with a haste in her step, “and so soon.”

“Oh, you’ve met before?” Mervyn asked, eyes shifting between the librarian and yourself.

“We have,” you told him, trying to make sure your grin didn’t turn into a grimace.

“Just last night, in fact,” Lucienne added. Her perceptive gaze wandered over your nervous form.

“Last night?” Merv repeated incredulously. He motioned over his shoulder. “But the boss hadn’t even started rebuilding yet! How’d she—?”

“A question we all would like to know,” Lucienne answered, fixing you with a penetrating stare over the top of her round glasses. She clasped her hands behind her back expectantly.

“Hey, I’d like to know too,” you said defensively. You crossed your arms, but then dropped them to your sides, not wanting to come off as defiant. “I’ve already told you everything that I know.”

“Lucienne, who is this?” Mervyn asked curiously, pointing a thumb at you.

The librarian sighed heavily but her eyes softened. Her tone was gentle, appreciative. “This, Mervyn, is the young lady that released Lord Morpheus from his prison.”

“No kiddin’?! That was you?!” he questioned unabashedly, shock evident in his wide eye sockets.

You shrugged, not a fan of the intense attention. “Well, yeah… but it’s really not that big of a deal…”

“Not that big of a deal?” Mervyn repeated, voice dripping in astonishment. “Are you kiddin’ me? This place would still be fallin’ apart if it wasn’t for you!”

“That’s why everything looked the way that it did the last time I came?” you asked Lucienne. “Because Dream wasn’t here?”

She nodded somberly. “He was captured for nearly a century and was unable to return. Everything was dissipating, disappearing… it cannot exist without him. He is The Dreaming.”

“But it’s been over a week since I helped him escape,” you said, confused. “Where has he been all of that time?”

“Lord Morpheus was traveling the realms on a quest to reobtain his tools.”

Something hopeful fluttered in your chest. Those nights where you’d been calling out to him and he hadn’t shown himself… it wasn’t because he was ignoring you, it was because he wasn’t even there in the first place.

“Look, uh… I hate to interrupt this conversation,” Merv cut in, scratching the back of his pumpkin head uncomfortably, “but… shouldn’t we tell the boss that she’s here?”

Joy sparked in your chest at his words.

Lucienne hesitated. “There’s still so many questions that remain unanswered. We don’t know how or why she is able to leave her dreams, let alone create a path from their border and through the waters to the palace.”

Mervyn didn’t have eyebrows, but if he did, you were sure he would be raising them in surprise.

“I didn’t have to use the path this time,” you told her, biting your lip. “I just kind of started at the gate.”

“You materialized here, in the heart of The Dreaming?” she clarified, voice filled with bewilderment and cut with that undertone of concern again.

“That ain't normal,” Mervyn shook his head.

“It appears that each time you fall asleep, you are somehow able bypass steps that you’ve previously taken,” she said thoughtfully, almost to herself. “You’re no longer appearing within the boundaries of your own dreams.”

An excited smile pulled at your lips. “Cool.”

“No, no, not ‘cool’,” Lucienne admonished, turning from you and Mervyn to start rifling through a stack of books resting on a nearby table. “This behavior is quite abnormal, even for a lucid dreamer such as yourself.”

“Lucid dreamer, ‘ay?” Merv inquired, crossing his reedy arms over his chest and leaning back against the shelf behind him. “Not too many a’ you guys left no more.”

“Really?”

“They’ve become exceedingly rare,” Lucienne confirmed, finally picking out a book from the pile. “Consistently lucid dreamers existed more commonly thousands of years ago. Now, well…” her eyes roamed over your confused face “…you’re the first I’ve seen in, at least, a millennium.”

“You always been able to do that?” Mervyn asked you. “Change stuff around?”

“Since I can remember,” you shrugged, pulling out a chair at the ornate table in front of you and sitting. “I’d sleep the day away just to keep dreaming.”

“But roaming through the dreamscape, you said last night that you had only just started?” the librarian asked, peering over the edge of the thick book in her hands. She joined you at the table.

Something caught your eye. The book that Lucienne had plucked from the bunch was bound in black with two golden words emblazoned on the cover: your first and last name.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what’s that?” you questioned enthusiastically, scooting your chair closer to her. “My name’s on there!”

A proud smile creeped onto the head librarian’s face. “This library contains every story ever written and unwritten, finished or unfinished, everything that has been and will never be.” She tapped the hard cover of your book with a manicured nail. “And this is yours.”

“Wow,” you sighed, resting your chin on your palm. Lucienne’s smile grew at your awestruck expression. “So, what all is in there about me?”

“Everything,” she answered simply.

You gulped. “Like, everything everything?”

She laughed. It was a harmonious sound.

“Relax, even your most embarrassing of moments pale in comparison to many of the things I read every day,” she assured you, eyes twinkling with amusement. She became serious again. “I thought it advantageous to find your book after your unexpected visit last night. I had to be sure that you weren’t a threat to The Dreaming.”

Your smile fell. “I’m – I’m not. I don’t want to be a threat to anybody.”

Lucienne sighed, expression trickling with pity.

“I know those aren’t your intentions. But the fact remains that your recent abilities are those that no mortal should possess.”

“Don’t worry, kid,” Merv said, standing from his perch against the bookcase to lean against your table instead. He grinned crookedly at you. “We’ll get this figured out. If anyone can sniff out what’s goin’ on here, it’s Lucienne.”

You let out a shaky breath, nodding. The thought of being some kind of danger to this beautiful place rattled you. All you had wanted was to find Morpheus, to make sure everything turned out okay after you released him. After all, being imprisoned against your will for a hundred years had to be traumatic for anyone, right? Even the King of Dreams?

You had more selfish reasons, too, but those would stay private.

Suddenly, a voice called out.

It echoed into the large room, gentle but authoritative, soft but commanding respect. With a wave of warmth washing over your skin, you knew that you would recognize that beautiful sound anywhere.

“Lucienne,” his voice called, “I believe it is time we review the findings from the census.”

All three of you froze in place.

The King of Dreams emerged from the nearest aisle, graceful stride filled with purpose. He donned all black, a sweeping floor length coat flowing behind him as he walked, regal. His alabaster skin almost seemed to glow against his dark attire. His hair was as black as his clothing, still so gloriously messy and wild.

He was in his element, thriving and flourishing in a way that radiated from his very being. This was his domain.

Morpheus’s icy blue eyes moved from Lucienne to Mervyn. Then, they locked onto you.

Your breath hitched as you stood, chair screeching back noisily. That feeling, that delicious humming in your bones, it was different here, more alive. It was starlight sparking in your spine. He stood at least ten feet away, impossibly still, but you could feel his presence as strongly as you would if he were inches from you. Time stood still.

A myriad of emotions flickered through his fathomless eyes at the sight of you, none of which you could place, but whatever they were made the air in the library thick. Your eyes drank in his face and his roamed yours, penetrating but swirling with something soft.

Mervyn cleared his throat uncomfortably. It just then occurred to you that you had no idea how long the two of you had been standing like that, staring at each other.

The sound seemed to bring Dream back to himself.

“Lucienne. Mervyn. Leave us,” he commanded quietly, but he didn’t look at them. His intense gaze never once broke from yours.

Their replies came quickly and in hushed tones, almost as if embarrassed.

“Of course, sir.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

They scurried away with heads down. As they reached the exit to the library, you could hear Mervyn mutter, “Well, talk about some tension...”

Morpheus blinked at the comment, but you didn’t miss the almost-imperceptible smirk that tugged at one corner of his lips. He was still staring at you.

With a smile that revealed every whisper of your heart, you broke the silence.

“Hi.”

Dream took a slow step toward you, measured. Then another. The curtain of dark lashes framing his endless eyes fluttered as he took you in, gaze roaming to your feet and back up again.

“Hello.” His voice was velvet.

You swallowed, begging the blush that you could feel creeping up your neck to go away. Couldn’t you have at least one interaction with him without your body betraying you? You felt like a fucking teenager.

“You, um, never answered my question,” you said, taking a step toward him as well. One of his dark brows rose. “You put me to sleep first. Rude, by the way.”

His smirk wasn’t nearly as well-hidden now.

“My deepest apologies. And what question would that be?”

You took another step closer, still not breaking eye contact. You clasped the back of a chair with one hand to ground yourself.

“You’re… you are alright, then?” you asked quietly. For the smallest of moments, his eyes betrayed everything. He was touched by your concern.

“You have journeyed through The Dreaming, to the heart of my realm, simply to ask after my well-being?”

His voice held an undercurrent of emotion, but he attempted to hide it with the slightest lilt of tease.

A playful glint sparkled in your eye. “Well, I did play spy for over a month just to get into that basement. What’s a desert and an ocean or two?”

The mischievous gleam in his eyes was shuttered by the weight of your words. It seemed that once Morpheus got past the initial surprise of seeing you there, the same realization dawned on him that concerned Lucienne.

“You traveled through the outer lands of The Dreaming,” he stated, brows furrowed in unease. “You left the confines of your dream and found yourself here?”

The general trepidation from everyone surrounding your ability to leave your dream world disturbed you. You saw it as a gift, but it seemed to be one that you were not meant to have. You let out a sigh.

“I created a path,” you told him. “It took me through the desert and through an ocean… and then I ended up on that dock out there.” You tilted your chin toward the windows. “The path ended at the gates, and when I touched them, they opened. Then I came here.”

Morpheus was close now, taking in every word you that escaped your lips with rapt attention. His powerful stare was not angry, but perplexed. His eyes were swimming with anxious confusion.

“How is this possible?” he whispered to himself. His pale hand rose, ever so slowly, to ghost the line of your jaw. The touch was barely there, so very brief, but it left tingling chills in its wake. He examined your every feature, searching for the answer. “For you are not a vortex.”

For a moment, you’d forgotten how to speak, mind still reeling from the fact that he had just touched you, and that it felt so indescribable. His fingers had barely brushed an inch of skin, but that starlight sparkling in your spine had overtaken every nerve ending.

“Vortex?” you asked when you found your voice. Your eyebrows came together. “What’s a vortex?”

To your dismay, Dream stepped away from you. He turned toward the table where you were previously sitting with Lucienne and Mervyn, delicate fingers flipping through the many volumes that were stacked over its surface. His hands settled on a red hardback, lifting it so that you could read the gold lettering on the cover.

“Rose Walker,” he replied, face impassive.

At your obvious confusion, Dream stepped back and motioned with a graceful hand toward the archway where Lucienne and Mervyn had disappeared moments before.

“Where are we going?” you asked, walking in the direction he indicated.

Morpheus was tall at your side, right hand ghosting the small of your back, featherlight. The stars in your backbone twinkled at the touch.

His voice was euphonious when he bent to your ear.

“Follow me.”

**read chapter 6 here

2K notes · View notes

nc-vb · 1 year

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𝐅𝐨𝐨𝐥'𝐬 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 pt. ii

That virgin albedo and reader smut was fucking perfect, it was fucking beautiful, it was realistically awkward, I fucking loved everything in it. Now I wanna know if they manage to create a baby? I've heard some couples say they had to do 'it' multiple just to be sure. Just imagine Albedo noticing and acknowledging the almost visible baby bump every time reader visits him (Idk if it's safe for her to visit dragonspine with her condition)

Etsu, my dear, you really got in my head with this ask. I know it was like, three months ago that I promised this part two! But!! It's finally here!!!

masterlist | taglist pt. i | pt. ii | pt.iii

warnings → 18+ (minors & blank blogs dni), no explicit scenes but there’s a lot of suggestion; use of medical & anatomical terminologies; description of vomiting & nausea, & a couple of near-death experiences through cause of embarrassment; not beta'ed (i'm 'eepy (_ _ ) . . z Z).

character mentions → jean, sucrose, kaeya, aether & paimon, bennett

wc → 9.8k

Lately, you’ve dreaded mornings. Today is no different.

It hadn’t been so long ago that the sun peaking through your curtains meant just another day of peace for you and the people of Mondstadt. Gone were the days of cowering beneath the belly of a corrupted dragon and within your homes to avoid being swept away by its fierce winds— it’d been so long where you were even able to enjoy having your lunches atop the Knight’s headquarters rather than in your office; you had been grateful.

Glaring over at your window, you find yourself wishing the sun would fizzle out of existence. You’d wished your curtains could be as black as the depths of the Abyss, and that the nest of chirping birds sat outside of your window would finally “fly the coop”.

Every little sensation seems to exist solely to set you off and create a mood you’d been stuck in until late in the evenings, and every little movement had only made the strange nausea you’d been experiencing even worse than normal. It’d been for the latter reason why you’d begun to keep a large pot at your bedside, as for whatever unfair reason, you’d been struck with a case of morning sickness so debilitating that after your first attempt of crawling to the toilet bowl before last night’s midnight snack could be expelled and was expelled, you’d learned your lesson.

Still half-tucked in the sheets of your bed, you shift in discomfort, a strange burning sensation ripples beneath your tongue. In your haste to sit up, you become tangled on your way to reaching for the pot, yanking it unceremoniously from your bedside table and into your awaiting lap— and, just in time.

Eyes squeezed shut, you start heaving over the rim, chin hanging inside the bowl of the pot, and with a trembling left hand, you keep your face clear of obstacles and—

Gross, gross, gross, gross… the colour, the smell, the sound it makes from all the water you’d consumed since before falling asleep— you vomit once more from the sensory overload. Heartburn would follow indubitably afterwards; a side effect to a side effect, and no amount of medicine would subdue it.

At the very least, there has always been the calm before the storm continued, a lull in which you could get out of bed and tend to yourself before the rest of the symptoms could appear. And so, you finally rise, having swung your shaky legs over the edge of your mattress and dragging the sloshing pot along with you to dispose of its contents. You hold your breath and squint, eyes open only wide enough for you to ensure your vomit spills safely into the toilet bowl.

“Gross,” you repeat, voice rasping.

It’s been almost two weeks of this… With a face cloth you’d used from last night, you run it beneath cool water and practically slap it against your face, unflinching from the amount of water dripping from it and onto yourself. Just how much longer can it possibly continue for?

Somehow, it didn’t even occur to you the reason why you’d gotten sick so suddenly. The sudden exhaustion, the sudden aching in your chest, the sudden morning nausea— because of it, you’d been late to work almost every day since. The acting Grand Master had been sympathetic; as things have been surprisingly quiet in regards to the records department, Jean encouraged you to take your time and to rest well before attempting to work.

“We may not say it enough, but we really do rely on you, and appreciate what you do for us, ______. Please, rest well.”

Of course, you knew that they did. Some of the knights certainly might not be as vocal as others, but the sheepish smiles of apology they wear when they hand you a new pile of field reports or copies of finance charts proved enough. Even when Grand Master Varka was still around, he’d throw “thank you’s” at you like candy, too the point where it got so sickeningly sweet that you had to beg him to stop.

But Jean’s reminder of all of this, when the knights are so overextended and too tired to muster even a fake smile, is also enough. That’s why you’ve been resting as much as possible, returning immediately home when the clock tolled for the seventeenth hour, doing minimal chores around your abode in an attempt to surplus your energy and resting in bed immediately after that, so you could return to them healthy.

But is this what death feels like? Has some strange illness crept into Mondstadt? Was that sweet honey chicken from Good Hunter you ate last night not cooked thoroughly enough? Or…

Your thoughts stutter when your eyes move from your mirror to out you door, and land on a wooden board hung up above your night stand. Memories, as many as you could nail to it, resided there. Receipts from your favourite lunch dates with your friends and coworkers; a ticket from a popular opera performance you attended, put on by the famous Yun Jin; and, photos taken with the new Kamera model, gifted to you on your last birthday. Vividly, you could remember the events of each day that the pictures took place in.

The one of you and the other department heads, captains, and Grand Masters, was one you struggled to take, in the sense of timing; everyone had been everywhere, yet you managed to find a split second for them to come together for this single memory. And so you’d set the timer, ten seconds for everyone to get into position, and in the last two seconds, poor Mika had just managed to sidle into frame next to you wearing a tired, photo-ready smile.

Another photo had been Kaeya’s attempt to take a front-facing picture of himself with you, asleep at your desk, your cheek resting on the ink stamp pad— a second image had also been taken, of you waking up and taking in the situation, followed by a third of you attempting to catch Kaeya as he ran away and back to his own office (lunch was purchased as an apology, and you had made a copy of the photos for him), all strung together in chronological order.

There are several miscellaneous photos about, too, such as of you and some of the cats at the Cat’s Tail Tavern and some scenery shots from all over Mondstadt. But the one that catches your attention and instantly has your tired, thoughtless brain piecing together your symptoms is the one you’d taken on a timer of you and Albedo out front the doors of his lab, you, with your arms crossed and smiling, and he with his arms down at his sides, unsmiling, but his expression kept a warmth to it as in the picture, he’d been looking at you.

Even the thought of being the object of his affection brought heat to your cheeks. Somehow, during your illness, you managed to forget what the reason behind yours’ and Albedo’s curiosity had been — is he capable of reproducing? — and by extension, the list of symptoms you knew you had to watch out for. Considering they began almost two weeks ago now, and all you’ve done thus far is let it cripple you for half of your mornings, rather than make a visit to an apothecary or report your symptoms to either Albedo or Sucrose (who’d been brought up to speed on what the experiment entailed, and, despite her explicit embarrassment, had been asked to be available for result submissions while he remains out of the city for the next three weeks).

Maybe she’d been why you hadn’t bothered reporting anything to her— in trying to save face and spare the both of you from an awkward conversation, you’d kept your less than mild symptoms a secret from even the Acting Grand Master to make sure it didn’t get around that you were a sickly mess. Yet somehow, you’d forgotten along the way that morning sickness, of all things, is a clear sign of pregnancy. How you managed to let yourself stay ignorant these past couple of weeks frustrates you; to spare yourself even further, you easily deign to blame it on the confusion brought forth from your constant nausea. It’s been almost seven weeks since then, ______, you tell yourself. Otherwise, you’ve finally reached a point of clarity, enough to remind you of your responsibilities and how you’ve neglected them.

Even your reflection looks peeved. Or maybe it’s the lingering nausea.

You spit your soured saliva into the sink, drawing your gaze away from the mirror discouraging reflection of you and toward focusing on brushing the taste of bile and yesterday’s dinner off your tongue. Upon reentering your room once you’d finished the rest of your morning hygiene routine, you dare to gander at the small clock resting atop your windowsill, and sigh.

“Ten after eleven,” you mutter, yanking your pyjamas down your trembling legs. “A new record of tardiness.” Nude, you cross to your armoire and pull together a simple, comfortable outfit. So far, half of your wardrobe had managed to offend you by being too rough on your skin— it made you feel claustrophobic, oversensitive, and you’d wanted nothing more than to see them burnt to ashes—

A rhythmic knock on the wood of your door startles you from your flame-fueled daydream. Carefully shoving your arms through the sleeves of your shirt so as not to over-exert yourself, you make your way down the steps from the second floor, holding onto the banister to stay balanced. You end up pulling the door open halfway through the same pattern of knocking, revealing a familiar tanned face.

“Well, good morning.”

You can’t help the frown that settles deeper into your face at the rehearsed smile Kaeya wears— rehearsed for your sake, because the last time he showed up here out of the blue to check on you, you looked to be near death, and he certainly didn’t bother to hide its obviousness.

“… I think I’d rather you be grimacing at me like before,” you admit, shaking your head and stepping aside to allow him in. “You know, potentially holding back your own vomit, perhaps? Somehow, I think I’d be less offended...”

A dry, hesitant laugh escapes him as he shuts the door behind him, and almost nervously, he glances around your foyer, eyes flitting past the wooden arches and into the small kitchen, toward the mess of used dishes and pots by your sink and the numerous wrapping articles stemming from your lack of energy toward cooking— in recent times, you’d been the Good Hunter’s most loyal customer.

“Still ill, I see,” he notes quietly awhile following you back up to the second floor. Though, in your small apartment, it’s easily heard. “It hasn’t gotten any better?”

“Nope,” you mumble. A strange smell suddenly punches the air ahead of you, one that you cautiously sniff at and almost immediately, you recognize it. Having sat down on your bed again, boots in hand, you pull them on and pull up on the zippers, one by one; “I don’t know how much more I can take resting like I’ve been. I’m tired of being tired.”

“Then why not visit a doctor?”

“Because I don’t need to visit one…” Because it’s not a doctor I need to see first, you think. “Honestly… I probably know what it is, but…”

“Oh? A stomach bug, perhaps?”

You’ve never had to summon so much willpower to not laugh before as you do now.

“Yes… m-most likely.” From his place, leaning against your front door, arms crossed, and only one visible eye lidded in scrutiny at you, of which you take notice of from the corner of your own eye, you can only assume the experience hardened Cavalry Captain knows you’re hiding something before it finally clicks. “Kaeya—”

“Yes?” You scowl at his instantaneous reply.

“I should’ve asked this sooner, but I’ve been seeing you quite often at my front door lately. Just why do you keep coming over?” This time, he doesn’t immediately answer.

“… to check up on a subordinate, of course,” he finally says.

“I’m not your subordinate.”

“A subordinate.”

“I don’t belong under your regiment, nor any regiment, for that matter— I run my own department.”

“We still work quite closely together, though, wouldn’t you say? And, we’re friends.”

“Then why wasn’t that your first answer, over “subordinate”?”

“I—” he stops himself from speaking any further, lips painting a thin line across the lower half of his face.

“The truth would probably be easier,” you point out. “It’s funny, though, because you’re usually so careful about these types of things…”

“Sorry?” You hold back an annoyed breath.

“You smell like broth.” At the confused look on his face, you quickly add, “Not food broth. It’s a chemical used in laboratories. Like, Sucrose’s, for example.” And you raise an eyebrow at him. “Kaeya.”

His sigh is long and drawn out, and rather absentmindedly, he begins playing with the feathers of his cape.

“Fine. You caught me.” You scoff at his sudden petulance. “I overheard a conversation between Sucrose and Albedo from a few weeks ago… about an experiment the two of you had been involved in together.”

“A-And what about it?” you inquire hotly— Just what did he overhear?!

“I was right to assume that you wouldn’t say a word if there’d been anything to report about it— not to Sucrose, at least. Albedo, however… Well, I’m sure I’m not the only one to have noticed, but the two of you have been thicker than a pair of thieves lately, even more so than usual. I don’t think I’ve seen him so reluctant to have to return to Dragonspine before.”

While you wish you could argue each and every one of his observations — damn that Kaeya and his stupidly keen eye! — even you had to admit that the chief alchemist had been acting increasingly out of character. From his task to Sucrose, to short handwritten letters delivered to you every other day meant to ask for any news, and even the small argument the two of you had gotten into over him remaining in Mondstadt to watch over you, instead— Kaeya insinuating your sudden closeness to him isn’t far off at all, which is exactly the opposite of what you’d hoped would happen.

“… obviously you visited Sucrose for a reason,” you say after a minute of silent deliberation, “and clearly it’d been for a long enough time that you now smell like a portable laboratory. How much did you overhear that day? Because for you to go to her out of curiosity, it must’ve been because you heard enough.”

Kaeya clears his throat lightly, and to your horror, his own brand of blush rises atop his sharp cheeks. “That… indeed, is the case.” Lips parted to speak, you struggle to even find the proper words to say, but only the most uncouth sputtering is conjured. Not knowing what your reaction will be, Kaeya steps forward, hands raised in defence of himself, “Don’t be embarrassed—”

“”Don’t be embarrassed”?!” you exclaim back at him— you instantly reel, your head spinning from having suddenly raised your voice. “… t… there’s nothing more embarrassing than this.”

“Just… stay calm, ______…” Kaeya shakes his head, an awkward chuckle tearing itself from its throat. “I… For once, I’m at a loss for words…”

“You say this like it’s a bad thing,” you mutter.

“I suppose it’s not… but… I’m simply… surprised. Can I ask why?”

“You just said you were at a loss for words!” you grumble. Pushing yourself off your bed, you snatch up your satchel from the end corner bedpost and your cloak from the standing coat rack, and move Kaeya and yourself in the direction of the downstairs exit.

“But why all of a sudden like that? Really, I could say it isn’t like you, but it’s truly not like Albedo at all—””We got curious,” you hiss, interrupting his speculation.

“Of what?”

“None of your business, that’s what.”

“Of what having sex feels like?” You nearly drop your house key, your hands trembling. “After all, you did once tell me that you were still a—”

“Sure, Kaeya, that’s exactly what the curiosity was all about! Not that I couldn’t have gone and experimented with anybody else or anything like that.” Hoping that by his silence, your answer has placated him, you take the time in the quiet to finally, successfully, lock your apartment. You’re quick to travel down the staircase, each step creaking loudly beneath you as you move, and stirring Kaeya from his thoughts.

“No, that wouldn’t make sense for the good alchemist to do,” he mumbles behind you, “so then it must have something to do with his research? Oh. You did just say “experiment”, didn’t you? Hm… an aphrodisiac, perhaps?”

“Archons alive…”

“Yes, yes— did he make you drink anything? Eat anything? A potion to improve one’s libido— now that would be a fascinating experiment.”

“That sounds like a terrible thing to make,” you shoot back, shaking your head at him. “You want a stronger libido?”

Kaeya chuckles at you, and you immediately realize you’ve spoken incorrectly.

“Are you implying that yours is strong enough? Or, his? How did he perform, anyhow? I can’t imagine he’s had much practice.”

“Oh, not quite so unlike yourself, right?” Kaeya chokes out a cough at your knowing glance. “”Mondstadt’s number one bachelor”— do they know you’ve yet to even enter a relationship? Talking about a stronger libido… Perhaps you should use the one you have now and go from there? Or, attempt courting someone first— Barbatos knows you already have a plethora of fans waiting for an opportunity to jump your bones—!”

Rather harshly, he’d reached next to him to clasp a hand over your mouth and behind your head, an attempted non-nervous laugh fleeing past gritted teeth and a fake smile— the fellow knight that passes the two of you by whilst on his morning patrol raises an eyebrow and shakes his head, secretly curious, but not enough so for him to desire receiving any similar strange behaviours from the Ordo Favonius’ Cavalry Captain as you, their records keeper, just had.

“Suppose it’s a bit too early for that kind of talk, hm?” Beneath a clammy palm, you can’t help but snicker at him. Hypocrite.

“Maybe,” and you drag his hand away. “I know you’re a busy man and all, Kaeya, but there’s no harm in pursuing a relationship, or even something more casual if that’s your fancy.”

The two of you manage to sigh in unison in time with beginning your ascent to headquarters, yours sounding more relaxed now that you’d managed to subdue Kaeya’s curiosity. But it’s not like you couldn’t understand it— if you were in his position, you’d likely be nosey about it, too.

“There’s just… no one available for my interest, is all,” Kaeya relents. “And besides, who has time for new relationships, with all the work to do in fixing up Mondstadt?”

“Hm, not even with that Traveler? It seemed like you two hit it off as friends fairly easily. I don’t see why—”

“-_____!”

In your attempt to begin matchmaking your friend, and your remaining sickly stupor that had you leaning into him, you don’t immediately register that it’d been your name to be called until it’s shouted once more. You flinch, head snapping up to the top step in front of headquarters where an… unfortunately familiar face stands.

“S-Sucrose,” you end up stammering, and your entire body jerks to a stop. “W-What are you—? I-I’m… surprised to see you outside the laboratory…”

Quickly, you hustle up the rest of the steps, and though it leaves you winded, you’re at least energized enough by the embarrassed heat that flooded you from Kaeya’s own knowing look as he followed the two of you down the cobbled street.

“I visited your office to find you, but one of the guards said you hadn’t arrived yet today. I got worried, a-and came to find you, but it seems Captain Kaeya found you first. But you look terrible, ______— I-I mean! I-I didn’t mean to say it like that, I—”

“No, no, you’re right; I do look terrible,” you murmur. “I… It’s something I’d actually like to speak to you about, Sucrose…”

“Oh? If it’s a cold, I do have a special recipe I once created, though it will take a few hours to brew, and I believe I am out of Slime Concentrate…”

“W-What a shame it is, then, that you’re out of Slime Concentrate…” You hold back the gag you’d almost released upon recalling the experiment you and Albedo performed after the experiment— What a texture… “But no, it’s not… a cold. It’s actually about what you and Albedo spoke of a couple of weeks ago.”

“A couple of weeks ago…” Sucrose pauses at the bottom of the stairs to headquarters, a hand on her chin, and while still lost in her memory recall, her skin tone begins to clash with her mint green hair. “Oh!! About… the experiment you and… Albedo… c-conducted, right?” You nod, albeit hesitantly. Kaeya hides his chuckling with another cough. “Then, we probably should head back inside to the laboratory… Though, I would’ve asked you to come with me there, anyway.”

“Hm? What for?”

“Well… because Albedo is here in Mondstadt today.”

You could have fainted. You should have fainted— it might’ve gotten you out of having to face not only Sucrose, but the man you both dreaded having to see, and desired to see almost painfully so.

The time the two of you spent in his mountainside laboratory had been lengthened by how severe the squall raging outside it had become. You’d thought yourself clever for having thought to pack so aggressively, being warned of Dragonspine’s unpredictability by one of your coworkers upon mentioning your intent to visit Albedo there. And so, half a day became half a week, the two of you surviving off of the squishy treats you’d brought along as a gift, hearty stew made from what ingredients Albedo had left near the entrance to his laboratory, and an assortment of dried fruits you’d prepared the week prior in preparation for your journey.

The events of what had transpired over the course of those three days and nights, varied. That non-freezing adventurer’s water you had theorized over, and that Albedo had concocted a solution and balanced a formula for, had been completed faster than you had expected. With his next planned experiment put on hold until visibility improved, he thought to fill his time with you.

“There isn’t a guarantee that doing this once is enough for the sperm and the egg to take,” he’d explained. “I once read that persistent copulation is sometimes necessary in receiving positive results… If you feel you’re well-rested enough, shall we go again?”

… and again, and again, and again…

So deeply lost in your own thoughts, your mind’s eyes replay those shared moments, recalling just how unexpectedly lascivious Albedo had grown since having his first taste of sexual intimacy with you— no, that’s incorrect. The sudden change in his expressions, from the usual cat-like curiousness you’d been accustomed to seeing in him, to the purest form of lust and desire upon receiving your affection, true affection, and not emotions forced by the parameters of an experiment— the change in the Chalk Prince had been instantaneous, and it had been something you could never deny. You, nor anyone else who has crossed paths with the alchemist, has ever witnessed anything so lewd and wanton from him.

And you, alone, had been the honoured one in his reciprocation.

It doesn’t even register that you’d entered the Knights of Favonius’s headquarters until you bump into a soft object. Blinking quickly, you realize you’d run into Kaeya from behind, simultaneously taking in the familiar chess flooring pooled around your feet. In its recent cleaning, you spot a bit of your reflection through a black tile and quickly recognize the expression you wear to be of a flustered nature.

“Hm?” Kaeya glances behind him and at you in time to catch you rubbing at your cheeks. “You alright, ______?”

“Yep, and I don’t want to talk about it,” you’re quick to respond. Eyes flit across your face and with a shake of his head, Kaeya snickers. “Sucrose, is Albedo in the lab with you today?”

“When I left him to find you, he had still been in his office,” she explains from ahead, “waiting for… you.”

“Oh,” is all that you manage to say.

“B-But, I figure that I should ask for a blood sample from you today, since it’s been a little over two weeks… Albedo wasn’t… happy, that you haven’t been reporting in anything, j-just to warn you…”

“Well!” You jump at the abruptness of your male companion, hand over your chest to comfort your startled heart. “I suppose I should be saying reporting to our Acting Grand Master for late duty,” Kaeya says. Your scowl, it being your first instinct to send one his way, quickly morphs into an expression of surprise.

“What? This wasn’t your break? Don’t tell me you just skipped out on working, Kaeya? Wait, no— you used me as an excuse to skip out on working, didn’t you? Wait, even worse! You’ve done this eight times in two weeks! Kaeya!”

He peers down at you, and in his failure to mask his amusement, “I was simply performing a good deed on a quiet day, where my talents would have been wasted sitting behind a desk to write a non-existent report. And look at that! I saved you the trouble of having to file it!”

“Quiet days, you mean? And, it’s my job to file reports,” you grumble at him, sighing. “If not for your actual talents as a knight, I would never understand how you became a captain…” With a sigh, you finally relent. “… I should check in with Jean, too, before I go with you, Sucrose.”

“Sure.” She nods. “I’ll meet you in there.”

Eyes stuck on her retreating form, Kaeya has to nudge you back into focus.

“Now who’s using who as an excuse?”

With your left hand’s knuckles stinging from where it connected with Kaeya’s clothed bicep, and Kaeya aggressively rubbing at the very same spot, the two of you enter the Grand Master’s office a moment later after receiving permission to enter from the female voice inside.

“______,” Jean greets you, rising from her seat and rounding her desk to meet you and Kaeya. “I’m glad to see you’re looking a little better than how I’d left you yesterday. Are you feeling any better?”

Your chuckle is dry. “I wish I could report that this was the case, ma’am, but seeing as I’m this late today, well…”

“That’s… a fair point. The good news is, things have been rather quiet here in terms of any reports, so please don’t work yourself ragged trying to get them all done in one day?”

“I—” your sentence catches in your throat, and instead, you laugh again, knowing full well of your intentions to completely them before you had to return home again. “Yes, ma’am; I’ll take my time.”

“Good. Then, you are dismissed; I also hear Albedo is looking for you?” You nod. Jean smiles warmly at you one last time and nods before directing her attention onto your blue-haired escort. “As for you, Kaeya…”

The man gives you a fleeting look of desperation, not having expected Jean to actually start chastising him. You offer a slight shrug and a short wave of your hand before fleeing the office in search of Sucrose.

Once or twice, I could understand, but almost ten and without telling our Acting Grand Master? Out loud and away from your thoughts, you click your tongue mock-disapprovingly, but in fact, you were utterly touched that Kaeya would risk reprimand just to check on you. You hadn’t asked him to, after all, and yes, he’d just been a good friend for doing so, but his choice, his punishment. I hope he doesn’t actually get in trouble, though… not for me. Well, maybe I’ll treat him to something nice later as thanks.

You’re quick to climb the grand staircase within headquarters, taking a sharp right up the stairs to the second floor to the alchemy wing. There, and two floors above your records office, one would find both the laboratory and Albedo’s office, and thankfully, for safety reasons, there’d been nearly a whole half building of difference between even those two rooms. Any accident within the laboratory would give time to spare any materials and or documents within Albedo’s office with a simple defence rune activated by a danger trigger, courtesy of the Knights of Favonius’ Magical Inquiry Division Captain.

The laboratory would be the first room one would encounter on their venture into the west wing, the door adorned with a simple sign of caution to those wanting to enter it. Not that many did besides the two people under Albedo’s apprenticeship; Kaeya, apparently, whenever he feels nosey enough; Grand Master Varka, when he’d still been in Mondstadt, but more likely for his own personal curiosities of alchemy; Jean, as the Acting Grand Master, and actually for the purpose of her duties; and, you, whenever you’d been in search of Albedo, also for your own personal reasons.

Quite suddenly, your chest decides to squeeze when you’d reached for the handle. Wasn’t it just anxiety? You’re only visiting Sucrose; you won’t be seeing Albedo until after your testing gets done. So then, a premonition?

Having dawdled enough, you twist the knob and shove the door forward. Heavy, it creeks upon its hinges to announce your arrival. Not bothering to open it all the way, you slip in through the few feet wide space and shut the door behind you with a bang. You spin on your heel, an apology hanging off your tongue for Sucrose for the loud interruption, when the air in your chest catches in your throat— at least this time, it isn’t due to the scent of broth.

“Oh, ______. There you are.”

You startle easy, greeted not by the green-haired alchemist you’d been entrusted to, but by the man who entrusted you to her, and swallow harshly, the flesh of your cheeks quick to bloom with warmth.

“A-Albedo,” you stammer, hand pressed against your chest when you exhale. “Hi.”

“Hello. I was about to come looking for you; Sucrose mentioned that you arrived and met with Jean. I was just about to come and find you.”

“O-Oh, I…” You mentally curse at your unintelligibility, but his appearance had caught you just that off-guard. “Sorry, I— I was expecting Sucrose.”

“I had a task I needed to delegate that she has assisted me with before, and she offered to assist me again. So instead, I’ll be overseeing this… belated check-up.”

Your lips instantly drop into a tight-lipped frown. He’s upset, you realize, tiptoeing further into the laboratory. Ugh, I should’ve just come sooner. He can probably already tell something’s wrong—

“Come in; take a seat here, please.” You do, having just passed him as he sets up multiple objects on a metal tray, shuffling back on your behind until you hit the backrest. Albedo spins, clutching the tray tight to transfer it to the table closer to you, and his eyes flit upwards to examine your pallor. “______, you look pale.”

“Oh, I’ve been a bit under the weather lately,” you tell him. Spotting a stethoscope on the tray, you begin willing your heart to calm down. It doesn’t.

“For how long? Sucrose didn’t mention anything in her report,” Albedo hums, glancing to a clipboard. “It only mentioned that you had taken time off.”

“Only Jean and Kaeya knew about this, and Kaeya had only found out due to his own curiosities… And, um, for about… two weeks now...”

There is a brief pause from the man that has you correcting your already-stiff posture, your spine hitting the wooden backrest hard enough to have you jolt even straighter— “I’m sorry. I’m… I’m sorry I lied in those letters to you. Honestly, I… I don’t know why I decided to do that. I didn’t want you to worry about me, o-or something like that… I’m just… I’m sorry.”

Albedo finally looks to you, his eyes having been pointed down at his clipboard for so long that you began to fear something potentially greater than disappointment from him. What’s worse than disappointing Albedo, though? a part of you wonders woefully, and it had been right. Because his promise to you that he would not leave you on your own through any of this venture was made with a conviction that blazed brighter than the fire burning in his caveside laboratory the night your fools’ experiment took place.

And once more, like when you’d assumed wrongly of him that same night, you’d managed to slight him again by denying him your candor.

A comforting hand extends toward you all the same, to rest itself on one of your shoulders.

“If, subconsciously, you’re thinking yourself to be some kind of burden to me by reporting every little change in your health, or if I’ve burdened you by tasking you with reporting to me, then… I apologize.”

Your shoulders sag at the realization, and you raise a hand to hold his.

“Albedo, n-no, it’s nothing like that at all— I promise. I just… really didn’t want you to worry about me when you’re so busy, especially as something as small as this. I was going to tell Sucrose today about everything, so she could justify me bothering you with a detailed report.”

“I like hearing from you,” he says, and squeezes your hand in return. “No matter how small… I like being able to stay in touch when I’m so far away from Mondstadt. Even hearing about the most mundane things of your day, I find joy in. But hearing that you’ve been ill and on your own in taking care of yourself… I would’ve come back sooner.”

“But that’s what I mean. What if it’s just a cold? Then it’s nothing I haven’t already handled before, and I would have just inconvenienced you.”

“And what if it’s not?” he counters— you knew he would, the second you stopped speaking. “Symptoms of influenza or symptoms of pregnancy— should it matter?”

“I… no… but also, yes— I-I get where you’re coming from here, Albedo, but the second I would find out the results, you know I would’ve contacted you immediately.”

Albedo shakes his head. “Your well-being has always been important to me— now, even more so, and for obvious reasons. It doesn’t matter what it might be. If you’re feeling unwell, please tell me.”

“I…” You weren’t going to argue, even before you’d been on the receiving end from his stern expression, but you go tight-lipped, only spewing the answer you know he wants to hear. Because he’d been right, after all. There hasn’t been a time where he hadn’t shown concern for you— not before that day, not when you’d been scaling Dragonspine and braving both the cold and one of its resident Frostarm Lawachurls, and not when in the throes. And you couldn’t bring yourself to deny him that. In fact, finally accepting the truth of it, yourself, “Okay.”

Partial frustration transforms into a look of relief on Albedo, and in response, you exhale, experiencing the same sense.

“I’m going to take a listen to your heart, now.” Albedo pulls his hands from yours to grab the stethoscope from his tray, your own curling into your lap in wait for him to begin examining you. Earpieces fitted gently into the curve of his ears, “Could you lift your shirt for me?”

“Y-Yes…” You pull at the material of your blouse until it untucks from the waistband of your slacks, holding it high above your navel and sitting a little more upright when he presses the larger of the two circles beneath your left breast.

His fingertips, neutral in temperature like the rest of him, brush across your abdomen in absentminded wait— you’re not sure if he realizes he’s doing it or not, but you don’t ask, already still so nerve-wracked at seeing him sooner than you’d planned. It hadn’t only been out of the guilt from not keeping him apprised on you that you weren’t ready to see him— no, it had been the fact that throughout your illness, and despite the effects your symptoms had on you, you just couldn’t stop replaying your time with him behind your eyes.

Albedo’s hand shifts the diaphragm along your skin to rest against the sideward swell of your right breast.

“Your heart rate just increased,” he notes aloud. You swallow harshly, and avert your eyes when he tries raising his gaze to yours. “______?”

“… it’s not because of my symptoms,” you murmur, and busy yourself in watching the gentle simmering of some green liquid over on the furthest table.

“… would you indulge my curiosity if I were to ask, then, what it’s from?”

Your lower lip quivers as hot anxiety courses beneath your flesh, and you pin the trembling thing down between chittering teeth.

Wordlessly, Albedo continues, a haggard silence having come down on you and your forced patience. He listens to your uncooperative heart from three more points before he shifts behind you, only to pause.

“You can lower your shirt on your end, ______,” he says. You nod, releasing the material and letting it fall back into place. “I’m going to listen to your breathing now.”

What awful timing, you irritably muse, as when he lifts your shirt up without proper warning, your breathing hitches. And instead of pressing the stethoscope against you again, you feel the cool relief of his palm on your ribcage; a gesture meant to comfort.

“You’re extremely warm… ______, are you in any pain?”

It does anything but.

“Your breathing is a bit shallow, too— have you been experiencing any shortness of breath?”

Because I’m ill? “No,” you answer. Because of you? “Yes.”

When Albedo hums in contemplation — a habit long since formed — you immediately note his confusion, and sigh at him.

“I’m tired,” you inform him. His hand draws away from you, a slow drag across flaming hot skin. “Constantly. I don’t normally sleep in because of work, but I’ve been unable to wake up unless I get a minimum of ten hours of rest. I have migraines so often that I just sleep even more. I ordered traditional Liyuen medicine to be delivered last week and it’s been my saving grace. My lower back… is always so sore, and I’ve used the bathroom more in the past two weeks than I might have in an entire month. And if I even smell Fisherman’s Toast again, I will vomit. Oh, I’ve been doing a lot of that, too,” you add. “Like clockwork, every day at eleven in the morning.

“But my shallow breathing, fast-beating heart have nothing to do with those.”

You heave one last heavy breath before slumping back against your chair, but instead of solely meeting the backrest, you hit the plush of Albedo’s chest. There’s a tickle against your cheek when he leans forward over your shoulder, his bangs dangling to invade your space, a gesture you return when you lean further into him; you reach up for him, targeting his closest ear, and pulling the stethoscope’s earpiece from it.

“It’s you,” you whisper. “I’m hot and bothered because of what you did to me… and I can’t get it out of my mind.”

The stethoscope comes untethered from his opposite ear, clattering to the floor; you hear the glass shatter. You’re more surprised that with his expert reflexes, Albedo didn’t bother to catch it— but you can understand why, since you’d just unbuttoned and slipped off your blouse with your lips pressed to his jaw.

“______,” Albedo calls to you— shaky hands find their way to your shoulders, your biceps; they anchor to you so strongly that you can’t tell if he’s trying to encourage you or stop you. “______…”

“What, ‘bedo?” You pull your shirt away, dropping it to the side. “You don’t want to?”

“I… We… We should… take blood samples first…”

“First?” you echo, leaning forward out of his grasp and glancing back to see his eyes blown wide and his pale cheeks flushed like the reddest rose. “I don’t think an hour difference will make the probability of me being pregnant by you any higher or lower…”

You turn back around, and rise out of the seat to instead straddle the stool. Draping your arms over his shoulders, you pull him close, and smile. He gulps.

“Help me out with that belt again, would you?”

Pure silence coats the entirety of the laboratory now, a stark, black and white contrast to what made up that same hour spent filling it with such lascivious noise— even making the comparison after noting the difference has pink crawling across Albedo’s cheeks again. It’s quiet again, after all. And in waiting for the results of the test done to your blood, there hadn’t been much else he could distract himself with.

You made it difficult, after all. Not in an aimless sense, of course— sure, the very first time the two of you engaged in an act of coitus, your inexperience shined, one guiding the other and vice-versa into the throes of pleasure and painless copulation. There were several times post-”loss-of-virginity” that you ended up taking the lead, and not for the fault of either of you, but there’d been something about you taking charge that had Albedo’s head swimming with thoughts of you while he’d been on his lonesome in Dragonspine, waiting for a proper reason to return to Mondstadt without being questioned— he would return for you, after all. In a heartbeat.

In his attempt to shake off any further inappropriate thoughts, his head tossing left to right, he catches your attention with a raise of your brow.

“Something on your mind?” you muse at him, unable to hold back a chuckle at his deadpan stare your way. His pursed lips and rouged fleshed are a dead giveaway.

“Nothing worth mentioning,” he’s quick to reply, voice cracking partway through. You laugh again, a little more heartily, when he moves away from you and toward the desk. “… the solution should be ready to use now.”

“Okay.”

According to Albedo, blood testing for the purpose of pregnancy discovery isn’t particularly common— in fact, it’s an entirely new concept that not many have adopted. It would certainly change how the medical practices across Teyvat would treat similar cases, but according to him, it would be a while until it could be universally adopted. The more data recorded using it, the sooner it would.

Two experiments in one, you think as you watch Albedo use a dropper to collect the liquid to drop into the vial of your blood. He sets it aside, grabbing for a thin glass stir stick of sorts to combine the two.

You find yourself watching him, for his reactions, rather than for whatever reaction the solution would cause. The flutter of eyelashes as he blinks in incredulity; every small twitch in the muscles around his jaw as his lips part dubiously; how his shining turquoise eyes have somehow managed to grow a little brighter, a little wider, a little more… more…?

“______… look.” He gestures down at the table with a nod of his head, but and you have to tear your own eyes off of him. Within the vial, it is no longer the dark red you remember it had been only seconds ago— considering the solution had been clear, the sudden change in hue made zero sense.

“What… am I supposed to be seeing?” you ask, eyes narrowed at the vial. “Why is it blue?”

“The colour change,” he explains, breathless. “It wouldn’t have changed if… you weren’t pregnant.”

“I…” You look back to Albedo, eyebrows teetering the border of your forehead in disbelief. His head whips your way, his own eyelids blown as physically far apart as possible. “It… worked…?”

“It… did.”

You reach up for him, a single hand rising from your side to hold onto his shoulder. Too many emotions have made themselves known to you, all too quickly to register without dizzying you; Albedo holds your hand in its place before it can slip away, his eyes never leaving yours.

He can tell how deeply you’re allowing yourself to process the news. Maybe, he figures, you thought it wouldn’t work at all. To not believe in the possibility after not only the time spent together up in Dragonspine, but all of the time shared with one another before then and in the past three years— maybe, you were still concerned that he might not live up to the promise made to be at your side through not only the experiment, and not only through the pregnancy, itself, but for the years after.

You never questioned anything past said promise. You never assumed he’d go and break it on you, either. If anything, him being busy with his assigned duties, personal research, and Klee (of course) hadn’t been something you would hold against him, and quite comparatively, you already had much more time on your hands thanks to your early morning to late afternoon position. And being that you are the lead of your own department, it would be so simple to bring your child into work with you. You’d have your office in the records department set up to your convenience. And, if you ever needed a moment to yourself, you’re quite sure your fellow Knights would have no problem doting over your child in your place. And with any luck, the child would be mild-mannered like its father, and as it grew older, it would be inquisitive, insatiably curious, and indubitably kind.

No, you could only be so honoured in having a child by this wonderful man.

“I-I…” It should go without saying, considering how ecstatic you’d been to hear Albedo reciprocate your affection, albeit in the chalk prince’s typical brand, how happy you are to learn that the experiment is to bear such sweet fruit. But it startles him to see a tear slipping down each of your cheeks.

“______?” Without hesitating, as he might have done two months ago, the alchemist reaches for your face, brushes them away, and holds it in the palms of his gloves. You sniffle, a small, choked noise quick to follow, before you laugh. “… ______?”

“These… These are happy tears, I swear,” you say, your grin between his hands only a little compromised by how intensely he holds you. “I-I’m so happy right now that… I don’t know how to properly express it with words. Hehe…” You raise your hands from your lap to cradle his cheeks. “It worked. You can procreate! Haha!”

Albedo’s gaze averts from yours, and beneath your bare hands, you feel his skin grow warm before you see it tint pink. Still giggling, you lean forward, fitting your lips between his smiling, parted ones, before they travel along and up to his forehead. Hands dropping to loop around your waist, your own shift when you wrap your arms around his neck, squeezing him tightly.

“We’re going to have a baby,” you whisper. A knock on the door of the laboratory stirs the two of you, both pulling away to find the other grinning.

“Yes. We are.”

“I told him that it wasn’t necessary to go out of his way and commission the Guild for this— please; I’ll pay you three for your troubles, but this really isn’t necessary!”

“What do you mean it “isn’t necessary”?!” You sigh, the naturally high voice of the Traveler’s floating companion somehow a little louder to you than usual. “Walking around like this even outside of the city walls is dangerous for you!”

“Paimon, dear, I think you’ve seen me sitting behind a desk for far too long, since you’ve forgotten that I am a qualified Knight!”

“But it’s a little different now, isn’t it?” Bennett offers— you turn your head to the boy so fast that he winces. “I-I mean, you’ve got two people to protect, r-right?”

“I just went up Dragonspine last month; that’s not that long ago,” you try to reason, but even Aether puts his foot down, hands on his hips and golden eyes lidded by, what? Annoyance? Disapproval? Your own frustration blinds you to be able to tell the difference.

“You weren’t so obviously big last month, and even that was a risk you shouldn’t have taken,” he says. “Albedo wasn’t happy about it.”

“Yeah! He’s right!” You huff at her. “Albedo’s just trying to take care of you when he’s not here to do it himself!”

“And isn’t this a good way to do it, too?” Bennett says, grinning. “We protect you, you stay safe, we get paid, and Albedo gets to eat those delicious-looking sweets you made him! It’s a total win-win situation!”

“If I make you some, will you let me go alone?”

“No,” both Aether and Paimon chorus. You click your tongue at them, your frustration thickening.

“Don’t be selfish like this, ______,” Aether adds, and just as you’re about to chastise him— “Do you really think Albedo’s the only one worried about you?”

“If it helps in any way,” Katheryne calls from across the street. You all turn toward her, you folding your arms and resting them across your swollen gut. “This commission is backed by the entire Knights of Favonius— the Acting Grand Master signed it, herself.”

“What?! That Jean, I swear— what a worrywart!” You groan, loudly, startling unsuspecting passerby’s and a hopeful Bennett. “Fine! Fine. I’ll let you join me. The… company might be nice, anyway.”

“Glad you see it our way,” Aether says, nodding. He gestures away from himself, a slight bowing to his posture when he bends, and Paimon copying him with a giggle. “After you.”

“You all are… too much.” Clutching your cloth lunch bag just a little tighter, you stalk past the three of them, shaking your head and managing a thin smile when you hear their soft chuckling.

“Hey, ______?” You glance back at Bennett, who grins guiltily and sheepishly at you. “Would you still make some more desserts for us after…?”

“Mm… no.”

“Aw, man…”

You hadn’t been wrong; the company was nice. Compared to the usual time taken, thanks to a couple of element users being able to traverse through the various Waypoints of Mondstadt, the time taken was cut significantly short.

Typically, your journey through Windrise and up past the Adventure’s Guild’s checkpoint is a comfortably solemn one. Being able to reflect on oneself and enjoying the fresh air, warm sun, and calm winds that the autumn months bring along is always so refreshing. Indeed, it beats being cooped up in the records room where only artificial light existed.

This excursion was something you’d been looking forward to since two weeks ago, when you’d first planned it. Another recipe crossed your path thanks to a convenient mention of it within a Knight’s report— and their verbal gushing over it. In you receiving one-and-a-half days off each week, you often spend the “half” bit catching up on chores and errands, while the full day is spent doing whatever you needed to reset your mind after such a long week.

Lately, if not preoccupied with other plans, you’d been bringing Albedo new dishes to try. This had been your usual routine, normally using him as a test subject of sorts whenever he’d been visiting Mondstadt, with the occasional trek into Dragonspine if you got too restless. This normalcy had gone on for a while, with no question of it by Albedo. Of course, this had only been because you’d managed to hide the fact that your stomach could no longer fit within the parameters of either your blouses or your turtlenecks.

The fascination had been instant— as was the scolding. Albedo didn’t hold back, either. The only reason he stopped was due to Klee’s unexpected arrival.

"Don’t think this conversation is over, ______. You endangering yourself to deliver me food is worth getting upset about, under normal circumstances and especially in your current condition.”

In hindsight, contrary to your point in that argument, it was slightly silly. He would’ve returned to Mondstadt eventually and you could have given it to him then. Was it the hormones affecting your ability to think straight? While Albedo and one of the church’s sisters did mention it could be a possibility, you clearly weren’t heeding the warning of watching for any impulsivity from you. Traveling somewhere so dangerous? Alone? With no Vision? If that didn’t scream “impulsive”…

Despite the sheer cold of the place, you took great joy and pleasure of visiting it if it meant being able to see Albedo. And as you turned the corner from the Waypoint closest to his cliffside laboratory to see Albedo’s back turned to the cave’s mouth, once more sketching away on a new canvas of his, your grin is uncontainable. You turn, gesturing at Paimon and the two boys tasked with delivering you to Albedo to hold back for “just a moment” so you could attempt to surprise him, but to your surprise, and you yelp when you realize it— he’s already looking out of the cave mouth and at you, hand raised in a gentle wave.

Defeated once more, just like you’d been that day, you trudge forward after giving your farewells to the trio when they announce that their “work is done”, and greet Albedo where he stands, waiting for you with open arms.

“That was very sly of you, you know,” you start, “submitting that commission to the Guild without me knowing.” Gratefully, you fall into his chest, wrapping your arms around him tightly with him doing the same in return. “Imagine my confusion when those three showed up at my doorstep, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.”

“I knew they would be the best to get the job done,” Albedo says, releasing you to encourage you over to the bed. “There are few I trust as much as the Traveler to protect you. And that Bennett, I’d heard, works well with him.”

“I’d have to agree with you there— I’d never seen two people so enthusiastic about taking down a Hydro slime, and so quickly, too.”

Albedo smiles, and the two of you sit on the edge of his bed.

“I see you’ve brought along some more food for me,” he says, glancing at the bag still slung over your arm with slight disdain.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d ever had this before, but one of the Knights’ reports mentioned it to be extremely popular over in Sumeru.”

“______, I didn’t say that out of curiosity. I’m still upset about your choice to journey here the last time; we never had a proper chance to discuss things.”

“Let me save you the trouble of worrying, then,” you say, patting his knee. “I don’t think it will be safe for me and the baby to come up here from this point on.”

“And what brought you to that conclusion?” Albedo inquires. Grabbing for the zipper of your coat, you pull it down, revealing to him the swell hidden beneath your thick turtleneck. “My… It’s bigger than the last time you were here…”

“It’s been almost a month since we’ve seen each other, so, naturally. But no... Coming here with Aether, Paimon, and Bennett worrying about me with every other step I'd take was a bit of an eye-opener. I'm not just responsible for myself, now. I have another life within me to take care of. In a few months' time, it will be no different to have them in my arms rather than in my body."

Maybe it’s because your adrenaline is finally plateauing, and your heart rate is dropping on account of you finally resting, but it seems like the baby realizes it, too, and it begins to move within you.

“Ohh…” You jerk forward, hands spastically reaching for Albedo’s to steady yourself— his eyes fly wide open, holding on tightly to you in return.

“______? Are you alright? Do you need to lie down?”

You shake your head, wearing a thin smile that confuses Albedo.

“I nearly forgot you haven’t felt it yet, since you’d been stuck up here for a while. Here,” you say, taking one of his hands, flipping it, and in pulling up your turtleneck, you reveal your bare stomach to him, swollen and… twitching?

“This far along, a baby will start to move, and it’ll even start kicking. Put your hand here, and wait. I think it has a favourite spot to kick, too.”

“Is it painful?” he’s quick to ask, not missing a beat when, as you predicted, the baby kicks you, only inches below your ribs.

“Just a little uncomfortable. It actually feels nicer having your hand on me than just my own.”

Wordlessly, Albedo adds his other hand to the surface of your belly; a content hum escapes you.

“It’s still quite… surreal to me,” he mumbles, his thumbs rolling over where one of the baby’s appendages extend outward. “That this is something that’s truly happening.”

“I never expected to be having a baby this way… or at all, any time soon, really, but… now that it is happening, I…” You chuckle, unable to find a proper word. “It is happening, Albedo. Our baby will be born soon.”

“Once this solution cures, I’ll be able to leave it in Sucrose’s care while I take my leave.”

“Your leave?” you repeat. He nods.

“I’ll be in Mondstadt for at least the remainder of your pregnancy,” he explains, tone cheery. “Any work that needs to be done will be done in our home laboratory, though it should be relatively quiet on that aspect of things. I’ll be able to focus on taking care of you and the baby, myself.”

“That… would be nice.” You’re still smiling at him when he looks up from your belly. “Albedo?” you gently call, raising a hand to caress his one cheek. “Are you alright?”

Albedo nods, holding your cool hand still against his fast-warming cheeks.

“Yes. I’m just…” He chuckles at you. “I’m a happy fool.”

Tumblr asks: kiddo extras! ✰ ✰

𝗧𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

for those who might be confused about my url! i am formerly @/niicevibe, but my blog was permanently locked on me. if i have your url wrong, let me know! sorry if i couldn't properly tag some of y'all.

@rvisn @plinkuro @vcvoxu @minty-vxnilla @ChaoticHearts-19 @stygianoir @imeanwatever @kxeyas @n-akaharachuuya @katelynwithpaint @sadflightlessbirds @sunnyf4lls @mydickisbigger @endlessmari @chocogi @hunterluv @Littleunredacted00 @kwelibeeery @okadahimiko @junephantom21 @hugsdrugs @kom4ya @barbatosfavouritenun @amilium @keelszet @whorerificstuff @makiswrld @orangejuicesquidd @sweetbunnybunbun @saitamastamaticsoup @cure-to-karmic-debt @akanesgf @aliensatemymemories @jooniebearsworld @aiscorner @aydene

#the ending was rushed and i'm not happy with it but... finally. i can sleep.#albedo kreideprinz #albedo #albedo genshin impact #albedo x reader #albedo x yn #albedo x y/n #albedo smut #albedo x reader smut #genshin impact smut #✦ nc vb.#✦ fool's experiment

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 years

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Well for a part two I was thinking it could happen a few years later or something like that. Daemon and reader are married, she is pregnant but she doesn't know that yet. I was thinking it would be sweet for Daemon to figure that out. Maybe Caraxes gets extremely overprotective of reader. They could have a small argument wholr caring for Caraxes and it would turn in the dragon growling at Daemon when he would rise his voice at the reader. It all becomes real when she faints one morning after getting out of bed so Daemon calls the maesters and they confirm that she's pregnant. and maybe the moment of the birth, Daemon holding his first child and getting to place a dragon egg inside the crib. Just general sweetness. I would be very pleased if you'd like to write this ! If not it's perfectly fine ! Thank you !

I love your brain! It’s filled with fascinating ideas. Also I love protective Caraxes. It’s just perfect.

Newsflash: I’m shit at writing birth scenes cuz I’ve never done it by I tried my best despite some possible inaccuracies.

Reader is female per request. Just letting ppl know beforehand before I forget.

Here’s part 1 for those who haven’t read it.

Your love for your Daemon has often left you blindsided to his darker impulses that you had soon became repulsed by your sudden faux ignorance to his crimes you’ve long kept silent about. Yet you found yourself still in love with him as the day you understood the word and shown said love in a multitude of ways that you probably shouldn’t have; so when news of Rhea Royce -Daemon’s bronze bitch of a Lady wife before you- having passed away on a hunting trip, the cause having that been of her horse being frightened by some means, crushing and as an result paralysing the poor woman. Those minor details didn’t catch your eye but what was added onto it oh most definitely did; apparently it was said that her head had been caved in and along with the apt timing of Daemon’s visitation at the Vale almost corresponded perfectly to the time of Rhea Royce’s death also too perfectly to be ignored by the public.

It fell together so seamlessly that it was no longer thought to be an outlandish accusation to assume that Daemon Targaryen, your husband, had killed Rhea Royce out of cold blood. You found yourself at a loss for words, torn between creating a false narrative to save face and protect Daemon’s ‘innocence’ and going mad within your denial of the truth presented before you as clear as day. It was obvious that to live someone was one thing but to defend their unjust cruelty towards others was another. Maegor was called ‘the cruel’ for good reason, given the how history written him to be; as it seemed history held an eternal grudge against house Targaryen and was willing to bury those who bore the name as repercussions for the wars they’ve waged and the homes, families and kingdoms that now laid to ruins because of them. It was only a matter of time before Daemon received similar treatment long after his passing, have his history written through venomous words and accounts from those who only ever spoke ill of him in life and death. It was also a matter of time before history treated you just as equally horrid as it would Daemon, Rhaenyra and Viserys.

Unfortunately you knew that many of the cousin members and even the king would already be privy to whom the most likely culprit was, given how eagerly Daemon was of disgracing Rhea’s name and insulting her beauty by claiming that the sheep of the Vale were prettier then her in front of an audience. You also knew that you’d sooner be caught in the crossfire unwillingly as a means of tarnishing your name along with his for keeping dark secrets concerning the kings brother for as long as you have in hopes of toppling you both and be done with it once and for all. No matter how much you wished to fight by Daemon’s side you have found yourself unable in your current state as of late; you know naught of how or when it came about but it is believed that it had started the first morning after you and Daemon consummated the marriage. Only then did it seem to linger longer then you had hoped days prior and have yet to speak a word of it to Daemon never less the Maesters but that could wait as there were more pressing matters to confront your beloved on firstly.

“Is it true?” Daemon’s ear picked up at your voice as he lowered himself from Caraxes back, “my spouse, you look as radiant as ev-“ “silence your silver tongue husband and answer me, is it true?” You cut him off venomously, not particularly in the mood for his honeyed words. “Why don’t you cease speaking in riddles and tell me what ales you so much to bare the vipers venom on your words.” Daemon began to hate the fact that slowly and surely enough your eyes were beginning to open and see him for whom the seven kingdoms truly saw him as. No longer were you carefree kids anymore and sooner or later uncomfortable realisations would have inevitably been made. Yet Daemon didn’t think that they’d poisoned your mind so quickly as they have and for which he would have their tongues for so they would never speak a word within your presence to doubt his character ever again; because to Daemon you were merely voicing the accusations that the kingdom have made against him, that it was the Seven kingdoms and his own brother that were forcing you into thinking him, your beloved, a villain in means of causing a rift between you too.

Daemon has fought tooth and nail to have you and he wasn’t planning on letting you slip over to their side so easily. Yet when the words flew from your lips and into his skin, Daemon could feel the prickling feeling of ice flooding his once fiery veins. “That you killed Rhea Royce as a means of selfishly securing yourself of the royalties of Runestone.” The air between you felt as though at a boiling pit and a subzero zone simultaneously as it only became increasingly difficult to breath in either conditions. Caraxes seemed to physically stiffen at your words as his eyes shifted from you to the back of Daemon’s head who’s silence didn’t help his case nor hinder; feeling as though you were in danger the Blood Wrym moved to shield you until he practically eclipsed the entrance to the cavern like stable of his. No matter how good natured his actions may have been they didn’t simmer the unease within your chest when Daemon looked at you like a stranger.

“Your believing them too now?“ he says eerily, lingering in the air to further build upon the unsettling feeling within your stomach as everything within you screamed, urged you to run from the one person who sworn to keep you safe since a young age. So when you didn’t and his hand laid upon your cheek felt as cold as ice as your breath hitched at the contact and instinctively pulled yourself away from his grasp and in the the broad front of Caraxes who towered over you silently in thought. “They’re poisoning your mind my beloved, they’ll say anything to cause conflict between use because they are jealous that what we have is real in comparison to them. We made our own choice whilst they did not in they wanted to spend their putrid lives with; they want to see us fight, the want to see us collapse so they may move in and claim whatever they want as their own. What evidence do they even hold over me to stake their claim?” Daemon’s eyes searched your tearful ones only to find that deep down you were at war with your heart. “Your visitation to the Vale is enough evidence, you snide comments is enough evidence, your eagerness to bed another whilst still in relations with her is enough evidence to be made against you Daemon. They have everything you have ever said against Rhea Royce and had it engraved in their memory for moments like this. Your carelessness has brought about your own end my beloved and in due time everyone will know. If they don’t already.”

You felt yourself fighting hard to remain able to withhold your ground during your squabble as your consciousness wavered in and out of focus as Daemon’s words only sounded muffled in your ears as though you’ve been held underwater; yet it didn’t take a fool to not notice the enraged look upon his face as he closed the distance between you two, gripping your wrist a tad too tightly for your liking and along with the anger in his eyes made you all the more fearful that in your moment of weakness, Daemon would take the life of his second victim, his sweet childhood friend, out of fear that you’d betray him like everyone else did. It scared you to think that the one person you’ve loved more then anything held the ability to kill you right then and there without any witness nearby to oversee the curfuffle nor come to your defence. Instead you closed your eyes and awaited the worst when Caraxes leaned his long next over you to shove Daemon away, causing his hand to loose grip of your wrist as he fell on his backside harshly. “Caraxes! What is your issue! You’ve been like this for awhile now!” Daemon yelled up at his dragon who merely roared in his face, silencing the Targaryen quickly.

Neither you nor Daemon were quite certain what had caused Caraxes sudden change in personality because in recent memory the dragon had always been seen more so by your side then Daemon which raised some rumours that have long since been forgotten by mostly everyone. In reality however Caraxes was merely protecting you and the unborn babe within your womb and in turn had be growing protective of you ever since he could sense the additional life next to yours. So when Daemon exuded a threatening presence towards you and in extension his kin, was Caraxes final straw. Daemon had ruined everything in his life thus far and the dragon didn’t want the only consistent in his life since he was a babe himself to face because of his human’s impulsiveness; To Caraxes you were just as much apart of him as Daemon was and to be apart from you was akin to loosing a limb, all though it maybe gone, you can still feel it’s presence episodically.

Whenever moments like the one between you and Daemon were to ever arise, Caraxes felt the need to protect you, his mother, and going against his Targaryen counter part to ensure your safety even if it means harming another to achieve it. “Caraxes.” You whispered faintly before allowing the dragon to encouragingly nudge you out of the stables, allowing you to rest your full weight against him as he escorted you back to the castle, where he’d await to see you from the windows of your chambers before clambering back to the stables to whack Daemon upside the head with his tail for good measure before forcefully shoving him out also. Still angry at him for threatening yours and your child’s safety.

The next morning became a struggle for you in particular. The mere act of getting out of bed had become a difficult task as you heaved with all your strength to push yourself in to a sitting position before trying your luck once more to push yourself to you feet when all suddenly became black and your body slumped to the floor; causing a great thud that alerted Daemon, who had long since calmed down from your argument, to quickly take to his sword and rush up to your chambers in perpetration to fight off whoever sneaked into your room whilst you were in your most vulnerable state. Only to find your body pressed uncomfortably against the cold chamber floor, unmoving, fearing the worst; Daemon threw away his sword to one side as he rushed to your aid, cradling you in his arms, his face a mere contrition of all the emotions he was feeling in that moment. Guilt over never apologising to you for his heinous actions against you, anger over his own need to protect his pride when he swore to protect and defend you just as much, sadness for how your dream life seemed to have taken for the worse then he promised you and an overwhelming feeling of being lost without you guiding him like the light he knew you were.

Daemon wasn’t the only one who heard your fall as several servants rushed not too long after the prince to check upon you but not out of your safety but only out of fear of what Daemon would do to them if they had left you in such a state. However as much as they prayed to be spared of any punishment, it seemed to have gone unheard as when they opened the door to witness Daemon hold you in his arms so crushingly tight; they were met with fierce violet eyes that pierced through them and into their souls in hopes of sparking a fire that would kill them from the inside out. “What are you idiots standing there gawking like seagulls?! Fetch the Maesters!” Daemon roared in anger, watching as they scrambled, shoved, pulled one another behind the other as they raced to get out of the room to evade Daemon’s wrath. The prince scoffed in disgust but his features quickly soften as he looked down at you with all the regret one man could ever bare upon his face; the day of your argument haunts him so but nothing haunted him more then the look of fright within your eyes at his sudden outburst, almost as though you were anticipating a repeat of his actions at the Vale.

He didn’t care what anybody thought about him, he couldn’t care less if in their eyes they see a monster but he couldn’t stand to be viewed the same in yours. As children he swore to protect you from all those who’d dare chase you harm but he didn’t know that there would come a day where he’d be the one bringing harm to your front doorstep. Now he wasn’t certain he was going to be given the time to repent for his actions as he held you close against his chest, refusing to let go even as the maesters came through the doors, tried their might to pry you from his arms only for him to tighten his hold before giving in to their pleas to check you over under the circumstances that he were to stay by your side. “My prince,” the Maester began after checking you over thoroughly before coming to a resolution, “it seems that your spouse is with child and has fainted but luckily has not sustained any injury that would cause her highness nor your child any prolonging issues.” Daemon’s eyes never left you face as the news struck him. All this time you’ve been with child and he has the nerve to place you in a stressful situation where your emotions would be tested to their limitations; He grasped your hand tightly in his, “thank you, you may leave us.” He dismissed the Maesters who bowed and left your chambers so the prince could shed his tears in peace. “We’re going to have a child.” Daemon muttered to himself, resting his head gently against your stomach, “we’re going to have a child. Oh gods bless this day and the many more to come until their arrival. I promise to better myself not only for you my love but for myself, Caraxes and our unborn child.” He promised.

The day of your child birth came swift and soon though not without excruciating pain. Though it was all the more rewarding when you got to hold your child within your arms with Daemon by your side. “Healthy as a horse your highness.” The midwife claimed before handing you the child that clutched to your fingers, cooing. You looked to Daemon who only stared down at the child with love, reaching a finger out to stroke his cheek and smiling when the child’s smaller fingers grasped onto his longer nimble one like a life line. “Have any thoughts on what we should name them my love.” You asked softly as to not disrupt the baby form their slumber. “I believe it is in your right to name the child as only one of us had bled to give them life my beloved.” Daemon said, kissing your slightly sweaty forehead gingerly, never breaking his gaze from the babe bundled in the blooded cloth. “Rhaenar.” You concluded post haste, smiling when the child cooed at the chosen name, giving their incoherent approval. “Rhaenar it shall be.” Daemon replied, holding you tightly against him as you both looked at your child, taking in the features they inherited from the both of you from Daemon’s facial features to your eyes and so forth. The silence lingered for as long as you allowed until Daemon removed himself from your side to elsewhere in the room, leaving you albeit confused until you saw him return with a pitch black dragon egg within his hands. You were aware of the Targaryen customs for when a new child under their house is born, they are gifted an dragon egg that will hatch into their bonded dragon; So to bare witness to it for your own child left a warmth within your chest knowing that for good or for bad, you were a Targaryen as much as your child was.

“I handpicked this myself,” Daemon explained as he placed the dragon egg into the crib with care, “may I?” He asked, gesturing to the child. “Of course they are your child as well Daemon.” You chuckled as you handed Rhaenar over to him, watching with love and adoration in your eyes as he cradled the child to his chest, smiling brightly when the child reached for his face to which he leaned down for the child to poke and pull lightly at his platinum locks. “I shall protect you and your mother from all harm but that also means that when you get older you must uphold that same promise also.” Dameon spoke softly to the child before angling them so they were facing you on the bed, “your mother is the most beautiful in all the seven kingdoms, even if she does bite my head off from time to time.” You scoffed playfully, “I do no such thing Rhaenar, don’t listen to your fool of a father. He tripped over his one feet when I said yes to being his.” Daemon covered the child’s ears as he glared at you playfully, “don’t want you ruining my reputation in front of our child now or else he’ll think I’m soft.” “You are soft though Daemon, hate to break it to you.” He chuckled in response as he placed the baby down in the crib though not before pressing a kiss to their forehead and a quick ‘I love you’ to join you in bed. “Such a tragic fate to befall a man to unconditionally love his child and lady.” He joked, stealing a kiss from your lips. “Yes how unfortunate indeed.” You joined in, snuggling against his side as you both watched over your child protectively.

Bonus:

Caraxes strained his long neck to the window of your chambers to get a look at the child, cooing softly as he watched the two newly made parents snuggle up in bed whilst watching over their child. The babe would grow into someone extraordinary under you and Daemon’s parentage the dragon concluded. Though he’d soon smack Daemon once more for claiming that he chose the dragon egg when in actual fact it was Caraxes who had chosen the egg. Daemon was going to gift an ugly mishmash of a brownish-red egg before his dragon pointed him to a more suitable egg. If one squinted however not only would you be able to see that while it was an entirely pitch black egg there was hints of fiery red here and there. Caraxes was happy to see his family grow slightly larger, though more so he was happy that his Targaryen decided to grow up for the sake of you and the family. He couldn’t be more prouder…now how was he going to explain that he practically demolished some architectural structures just to bare witness to the childbirth…

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kiskisur · 8 months

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ᝰ.ᐟ at pagtapos ang himas ng sandali.

rules || masterlist || info || about me || tags || fandoms

warnings: angst no comfort, [name]'s parents are a bitch🔥, male reader, he/him pronouns, reader is referred to as [name] :)

note: helloo, actually my second work lol so please do correct me if I did something wrong! and who knows? maybe I'll make a part 2 later ~

Lyney had admired [name] from afar for a long time, captivated by [name]'s charm, kindness, and the way [name] carried himself. However, Lyney knew that their path was strewn with obstacles. Society's norms and [name]'s parents' homophobic views cast a shadow over any possibility of a relationship.

Despite the odds, Lyney couldn't suppress his feelings any longer. He felt a growing need to be honest and true to himself. One day, as the sun dipped below the horizon and painted the sky with hues of orange and pink, he found the courage to speak his heart.

They were on the balcony, gazing at the stars twinkling above, when Lyney's voice trembled but resolute, "I need to tell you something, [name]. Something that's been on my mind for a while now." He took a deep breath and continued, "I love you. More than just a friend, I've fallen in love with you."

[name] looked at Lyney, his eyes wide with surprise and a hint of warmth. Before [name] could respond, however, a sudden tension fell over the scene. Lyney followed [name]'s gaze and felt his heart drop. [name]'s parents stood in the doorway, their expressions cold and unyielding.

[name]'s father's voice cut through the silence, laced with thinly veiled disappointment, "We were hoping you would make better choices, [name]. This is not what we expected."

Lyney's heart sank further as he witnessed the internal struggle in [name]'s eyes. The seconds felt like an eternity, and Lyney couldn't help but feel the weight of the world on his shoulders.

[name] finally turned back to Lyney, his voice gentle yet heavy with regret, "Lyney, you mean a lot to me, but you know the situation. My parents..." He glanced at them, and the message was clear – they expected him to conform to their wishes.

Tears welled up in Lyney's eyes as he nodded, understanding the unspoken words. He felt a mixture of pain, heartbreak, and resignation. [name] stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently touch Lyney's cheek.

"I wish things were different, Lyney," [name] finally spoke, his voice barely a whisper. "I care about you so much and I love you but.."

Lyney nodded, his heart aching with a pain he had tried to prepare himself for. He had hoped against hope that their love would be enough to overcome the obstacles, but reality had a cruel way of shattering even the most beautiful dreams.

"[name], I understand," Lyney said, his voice filled with a mixture of resignation and heartache. "I don't want to be the cause of any more pain for you. I just needed to tell you how I feel."

[name] stepped closer, his fingers gently entwining. "You're not the reason, Lyney. You've shown me a love I never knew was possible. But I can't let my own happiness come at the cost of your wellbeing."

Tears welled up in Lyney's eyes as he smiled sadly, his heart breaking a little more with each passing moment. "[name], I don't regret telling you how I feel. I just wish circumstances were different."

As they parted that night, Lyney walked away with a heavy heart, the weight of unrequited love pressing down on him. The stars that once seemed to shine so brightly now felt dimmed by the shadow of their unattainable love.

ᝰ.ᐟ 'di kukubli aking tinig.

#amab reader #genshin impact x male reader #male reader #x bottom male reader #x male reader #♡ ;; kiskisur !#lyney x male reader #lyney x reader #genshin lyney #lyney x ftm reader #male yn #x ftm reader #NO BVZ THIS HURFS ME TKO #lyney x reader angst #genshin lyney x male reader angst #𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ works ~

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delirious-donna · 4 months

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Who? [Kiba Inuzuka]

an: this is a repost of an old story I wrote for @tired-biscuit who we all know is the biggest kiba girlie on the planet. I've reworked it and added an extra 2k (sorry not sorry). Hopefully, it gets a few reads.

pairing: Kiba Inuzuka x female reader

warnings: NSFW, modern AU, friends to lovers trope, characters in late 20s, angst, toxic males (sorry Asuma, Obito, Itachi and Hidan simps!), pussy eating, blowjob after sex, unprotected sex, cum swallowing, biting and marking.

Masterlist

He eyed you with the utmost disdain.

Glowing amber eyes raked from the toes of your scuffed Converse to the brim of the baseball hat that peeked from under your hoodie. A sleek dark eyebrow rose, stern in admonishment of your haggard appearance and you could scream at him for it.

You knew you looked god awful—felt it too—but did he need to sneer quite so fucking openly? Even from the door of the coffee shop, you knew he was going to give you absolute hell, motherfucker couldn't help himself at the best of times. Some best friend he was.

Kiba Inuzuka appeared his usual well-put-together self, the epitome of the aloof bad boy that most girls had that annoying phase of wanting more than reason should allow. Sickening really, but you loved him regardless. Platonically, of course… of course.

He sat with arms crossed at your favoured table in the back corner, his arms tightly crossed over his wide chest and forcing the cotton of the black tee he wore to work to its limit to contain the muscles beneath. You spied his foot stretched out as he practically manspread in his chair, and the ominous tap of his heavy biker boot sounded like the tolls of a church bell as you walked toward him and your doom.

The strands of his chestnut brown hair were tousled in a sexy 'I just got fucked' style that was meant to look like he had rolled right out of whatever bed he had spent the previous night in. However, you knew the truth of it. That particular look took him a straight forty-five minutes to perfect each morning, and you were tempted to ruffle your hand through it just to piss him off more but you didn’t have a death wish–not today.

You always gave him shit for how long it took him to get ready in the mornings, many a time in your college years you had screeched about him being worse than the girls, and you were not wrong. If any of his floozies were to find out about his skincare regime their little airhead brains would likely implode from shock. Perhaps you should never have taught him that he needed to use more than bar soap on his face each morning, for the man owned more luxury beauty products than you did now.

"You look like shit," he offered with a shit-eating grin on his annoyingly handsome and punchable face.

The onset of summer highlighted the fresh dusting of freckles on his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, and his usual sun-kissed skin darkened further from the abundance of scorching sunlight. Kiba was a true summer child, not something you shared with him as you opted to hide from the dangerous rays of the sun until the weather cooled into a more agreeable autumn temperature.

"Well, fuck you too, dickhead!"

You threw yourself haphazardly into the opposite chair, face screwed up from the squeal of metal on the polished floor and pouted.

"Could've at least bought me a drink. Not like you don't know what I like," you moaned sullenly.

Glancing over your shoulder you could see the line was almost at the door, and the thought of standing in it to get your much-needed fix of caffeine sounded like hell on earth. With your best puppy dog eyes, you rounded back to Kiba who was watching you fixedly, jaw set in a firm line.

"Oh no. I already stood in that queue, had to almost sell my soul to Satan himself to get the last apple danish. It's not my fault that you're so hungover that you can't face standing up for longer than a minute," he all but yelled at you.

Kiba was more pissed than you had expected, you must have really caused a scene for him to be this level of mad at you. Caffeine was your biggest weakness, and he knew it. Groaning loudly as you rubbed at your aching temples, you tried to replay the snippets of what you remembered from the previous night.

Anger snapped at your fingers. The burn of absolute fury had you rubbing at your chest in discomfort, and you well remembered the slap you had landed with the stinging pain that still lingered on your palm. A face you would much rather forget loomed into your mind's eye, tall and dark-haired. A cocky lopsided smile on his face as he tried to wave away your well-founded accusations.

Goddamn Obito Uchiha, he was the devil incarnate. Nothing but a cheating scumbag that had promised you the world but in the end gave you only hell and one heck of a headache.

You could recall the heated whispers of your girlfriends, the words that had curdled your stomach and caused your pulse to pound in your ears. Your boyfriend had been seen by multiple reliable sources engaged in acts that should solely be reserved for you. He had fallen back into the arms of his ex, and he didn't even have the decency to end things before he went and stuck his dick in her.

Sure, you could have handled things better, you knew that, but he had it coming to him.

"Kiba," you whined, "I know that I probably didn't do myself any favours last night, but you can't tell me that he wasn't asking for it? The bastard cheated on me! A slap to the face was hardly the end of the world..."

You fell silent whilst his stare iced over instantly.

The warmth of his amber-flecked eyes was gone in a heartbeat, cold fury descended over his face as he leant forward with his arms braced on the table. You couldn't help but admire the black ink that ran from his left elbow and slipped beneath the sleeve of his fitted t-shirt. His bicep flexed as he pointed a thick finger in your face.

"Are you serious? You think I'm pissed at you for throwing a piss poor slap at that self-centred prick?" he hissed through clenched teeth.

"Be quiet," he added as your mouth popped open to shoot back your reply.

"Course he deserved it, and the rest of what he got..."

You frowned at the ominous statement in confusion, suddenly eyeing his hands intently, and as you had suspected, the knuckles were raw and split open in places. That only ever happened when… Icy dread whispered down your spine at the unwelcome thought.

"What I am downright furious about is the scene you made after that slap. Don't you remember shouting your damn head off, screeching like a fucking banshee for 'that bitch' as you called her? Must have slipped your mind that you stormed right across the bar, literally pushing over your friends that just wanted to help and then threw up all over the pinball machine, yeah?"

You blanched, literally feeling the colour drain from your face as you did indeed recall flashes of what he spat at you so venomously. All you wanted was for the ground to open up and swallow you whole, instead, you raised your hands to cover your face, or at least, you tried.

A rough hand wrapped around your wrist and forcefully removed it from your mortified face.

"Uh-uh, I got more to say and you are gonna listen, so perk those little ears up mama. I could forgive you yelling like a lunatic and spewing your load, god knows I'm more than aware you're such a damn lightweight. What I cannot forgive is you running out the door and going fuck knows where!"

He was getting louder and you cringed.

It felt like a thousand eyes were on the pair of you, and it made the introvert in you crumble like a sandcastle being overwhelmed by the ocean. You had wondered why you'd awoken in your childhood bedroom, why the window was wide open and your dad was holding a baseball bat over his head as you emerged from the cocoon of bedsheets. Old habits die hard and sneaking in and out of your bedroom window proved to be one of them even though you had long moved out of your parents’ home.

Your mouth was drier than a desert, tongue heavy in your mouth as Kiba finished his tirade. He huffed through his nose like an angry bull, and with only the jut of his jaw, he silently demanded a response. The problem was, you didn't know what to say, surely you were out of excuses for the poor choices you had made. It seemed like this was a cycle you were meant to repeat from now until the end of time.

Step One – find a new boyfriend who would quickly become your obsession.

Step Two – Kiba would either know them already or meet them only to immediately disapprove and ask you to end things. Ask was putting it mildly too.

Step Three – you and he would argue like squabbling schoolchildren until one of you stormed out, resulting in a period of silence.

Step Four – said boyfriend would reveal his true colours in the most atrocious of ways and annoyingly prove Kiba right time and again.

Step Five – Kiba picked up the broken pieces of your heart and soul, glueing them back together with an ever-patient hand. Although he never failed to tell you, ‘I told you so.’

Repeat.

Shame burned in your chest, the feeling filled you from head to toe and it was enough to intensify the headache that crested through your brain like waves on a turbulent sea. All this and you had no damn coffee to at least take the very edge off your misery.

What could you say?

You had acted like a selfish brat with those actions, your friend had every right to be angry at you and it was only then you noticed the dark shadows that lingered beneath Kiba's eyes. You grabbed his hand and held it tightly in your own when he tried to withdraw, pulling it toward you.

"Please don't tell me you've been up all night cause of me?"

He shrugged and again tried to pull his hand free, but he didn't truly fight you. It was evident to both of you that if he wanted to retrieve his hand, he would be able to do so with ease. He grunted in reply and looked pointedly over your shoulder.

Fuck!

"I'm sorry," you whispered with a slight hiccup, fighting the flow of tears that threatened to spill upon the bougie-looking rustic tabletop. A fingertip traced a gnarled knot, it grounded you and kept you from completely losing it.

"Kiba, please. I'm sorry, it won't happen again. I know I've said that before but I mean it, I do, I promise. No more idiots and no more making an absolute fool of myself."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

His tone had returned to a more amicable level, with a smirk unfolding on his lips and you knew that the worst of the storm was over.

Worry had been at the core of his fury, not knowing where you were until you had texted him upon waking at your parent’s house. Frantic fingers flew across the keys whilst listening to your dad's yells of indignation about how you should have used the damn front door instead of climbing in through your old bedroom window.

This really was the straw to break the camel's back.

It was exhausting, the emotional toll enough to have you curled into a tight ball on most nights. True that the highs were intoxicatingly good, but the lows were soul-suckingly abysmal. It was time that you stopped endlessly chasing around after men who were never worth your time and effort. Maybe if you stopped searching, the right man would find you instead.

"I'm done, I promise," you reiterated with a steely determination in your eye.

Kiba tipped back in his chair, assessing your words and finding them to be genuine. His normal goofy smile manifested and it was like the first ray of sunshine you had seen in weeks. He truly was the best friend you could ever ask for, and when he stood with a sigh, you realised you couldn't love him anymore.

"Caramel macchiato?"

Or could you?

–

Kiba had known it wouldn't last, it never did, so why would this time be any different?

The trouble was that he adored you from the tip of your sharp tongue right down to your uncoordinated feet that stumbled and fumbled no matter how hard you tried to keep your balance. The pair of you had been friends since your schooldays and you were both prominent figures within your wider social group. What he didn't like about you, and was not quiet about, was your god-awful taste in men.

You couldn't help it, you were downright adorable so of course, men were always gonna be drawn to you, but did you have to pick the worst scumbags imaginable? He had never believed that one person could get it wrong over and over without at least learning some kind of lesson. It must be some kind of imbalance in your brain and it was astonishing, to say the least.

Over the years you had gone through phases, such as the bad boy stage where you swore blind that you could reform idiotic womanizing players like Asuma Sarutobi. Everyone and their grandmother knew that Asuma could not keep his eyes, and hands, off the ladies. It was never going to matter how many times in a day you fucked him, he was destined to stray and stray he did.

Kiba was there to pick up the pieces, to reassure you that it was most definitely his loss, and no, he didn't think you needed to lose any fucking weight! Why would you even think that? He didn’t always understand women and the fascination with weight was his biggest bugbear.

Then there was the sophiscated phase which he referred to as the smugly quiet phase. Itachi Uchiha was only a few years older than you but damn did he act like he was a motherfucking elder. The condescending smiles, the little tuts and eye rolls at what he deemed to be childish acts and that low almost monotonous tone that spoke volumes about his feelings, or lack thereof.

Again, Kiba had warned you off but you chose to ignore him as usual.

Instead, he waited until Itachi sat you down and told you abruptly that you were too immature for him, effectively breaking your heart in all the time it took him to blink those feminine-looking long dark eyelashes of his. Kiba was there for you to cry upon his shoulder, to wipe your snotty nose and assure you that you were not immature, that dude was just an old ass fuddy-duddy.

Obito had simply been the latest in a long line of utter morons, and part of him had desperately hoped you would keep your word this time. The one thing he was glad about was that you had never dated within your friendship circle, though it hadn't stopped some of the guys from trying.

You would never know about the times he had forcibly taken aside the likes of Naruto and Shikamaru, the muttered threats of mortal wounds and outright death if they so much as dared to touch you. Kiba was always met with nervous chuckles, reassuring pats on the shoulder and hastily sworn oaths that they would keep their distance. Shikamaru had even looked downright pleased with himself, as if he knew something that Kiba didn’t and that encounter had lingered with him for a long while.

It had been a good month since you swore 'til you were blue in the face that you were done chasing men, a record for you but it had all come tumbling down when Hidan entered the fray.

Hidan–a dude who swore he had no last name. Seriously, who did he think he was, the goddamn pope? Perhaps he should have taken that final step much like Prince had done and changed his name into a symbol, it certainly wouldn't have made him any more pretentious.

The man clearly thought he was the next messiah and Kiba had taken an instant dislike to him. This time it was different and he couldn't shake the fear that gripped his heart. Worry gnawed at him, the sense that his guy was more than capable of drawing you into things that could endanger you. The saying goes that you should listen to your gut and Kiba took that very literally. His every instinct screamed of danger and put him on high alert for trouble.

Weeks had passed since you two first started dating and although he desperately wanted to teach you a lesson by giving you the usual silent treatment until you snapped, he refrained. Something stopped him, a niggling doubt that poked him at the most random of times. He wasn’t about to let something befall you on his watch, he’d never forgive himself if it did.

Instead, he watched much like a predator would, assessed this cocky-ass male and learned his weaknesses. Kiba knew Hidan hated to be called out on things, his word was law in his mind and that just grated on the Inuzuka to the worst possible level.

He remembered well the night that Hidan had cornered him as he left the bar restroom, his fist thundering into the wall next to his head in an attempt to intimidate him. It didn't take much for Kiba to snap, yet he managed to hold on to his composure this time. Fought to retain his sanity tooth and nail because he would not play into Hidan's hands, for this was a game to him.

"You wanna fuck her, dontcha?"

"Killing you to know that it's my dick that she sits on each and every chance she gets, huh? Cock hungry little slut that she is."

The inflammatory words had been like grenades exploding behind his eyes, what an utter cunt he was for speaking about you in such a derogatory manner. Kiba had stuffed his white-knuckled fists deep into his pockets, biting his tongue and pushing away from the sneering male without further incident.

In hindsight he was shocked that he had managed to keep it together and not outright punched the fucker–he wanted to–but then again so had Hidan. It was a part of his plan to isolate you, to keep you from your friends and family so that he could steal all your time and attention. He was the definition of a toxic male.

Manipulative fucker!

The Inuzuka drained his beer and let his head fall back against the couch cushions. He was at his wit's end, there was no plan to swirl inside his rampant brain that seemed likely to work.

How long had he ignored his feelings for you?

Too long was the answer. He doubted you were ever going fall into his arms as he wished, but he satisfied himself with being your ever-constant rock. If he could not have you, he would make damn sure that whoever was lucky enough to steal your heart treated you like a princess.

It hurt his heart, but it was better than the emptiness that came with the alternative.

Tired eyes looked towards his phone that was buzzing incessantly on the couch beside him, he palmed the device and looked at the screen to find your name illuminated like a beacon in the darkness of his lounge. He schooled his features although he knew you could not see him and answered the call.

"What's up?"

–

You were a dumbass.

There was no other way to describe how dense you were when it came to your love life. You had to wonder if you had a sign above your head that attracted the absolute worst of mankind to swarm you like insects. Was there something wrong with you? Were you actually a bad person who didn't deserve to be loved?

You made your way to the apartment you knew as intimately as your own.

Feet carrying you ever forward, speeding you towards comfort in the arms of Kiba. He would make it all better, wouldn't he?

For once, you didn't know if he could. There were only so many times you could be knocked down before you could no longer get back up and it was getting harder and harder to find your feet.

Tears threatened to fall but you refused. Curling your hands into tight fists until your nails sank into the flesh, close to puncturing the skin but not quite. It grounded you and kept the tears at bay. How long it would last, you weren't sure.

The ache in your chest eased as Kiba answered the door with worry prominent on his features. Pinched brow and pristine white teeth gnawing his lower lip in earnest. Even before you could step inside, he was reaching for you, dragging you into his strong embrace and wrapping you in his essence.

You sank into him willingly, inhaling his musky spice-infused scent until you were filled with it. It felt like stepping into a perfectly hot bath after a long exhausting day, the tension from your muscles draining away whilst you sagged against the chest that rose and fell in harmony with your own. Kiba wrapped one arm wrapped around your lower back, a thumb rubbing against you in soothing motions whilst the other cradled your head and let you settle into his broad shoulder.

Why couldn't all the men in your life be like this?

Kiba accepted you for who you were and had no interest in changing you into something that would better suit him. His soul was filled with warm light, you saw it through the amber flecks in his eyes, the adorable dimple appearing on his right cheek when he smiled broadly and through his caring actions.

"Tell me everything babe," he cooed softly into your mussed hair, ruffling the strands with his breath.

Where to begin?!

You spent the next hour filling in your longtime friend with every dreaded detail from this afternoon, sipping cautiously on a beer that he offered you once seated on his squishy leather couch. The last thing you wanted to do was succumb to alcohol, but one would settle your nerves you reasoned.

"I knew that guy was a motherfucker," Kiba hollered from the kitchen.

Rolling your eyes at the sheer joy that laced his gravelly tone, you turned to find him bent over searching the fridge aimlessly. His tight butt swayed in the hold of his black jeans, it was such a nice backside and if you were in a better mood you might have tiptoed closer to give it a good hard smack. He’d deserve it.

"Mr Kiba 'I knew he was a motherfucker' Inuzuka. Can't you ever give me a break?"

It hadn't bothered you this much when he first said it, but the more you repeated the words, the more fury infused your veins. It hit you like a tidal wave, turning you from weepy sadness to burning anger in less than a minute.

You popped to your feet, pacing back and forth whilst your fists clenched and unclenched at your sides. Wary amber eyes followed your movements, closing the fridge door with a hard thud that made the magnets rattle. Magnets you had gifted that asshole. The grim set of his jaw was back, irritation so quick to line his features until you were both scowling at one another.

"The fuck? Why have you always got to be so fucking high and mighty? You ain't perfect either, you know!" You were yelling now, raw emotion burning your throat and turning your body into a literal inferno.

"High and mighty? You gotta be joking me. Watch your damn mouth, my patience will only remain for so long. I suggest you calm the fuck down and sit down as well!"

He was making it worse, where was his usual compassion when you stormed like this?

"Or what Kiba? You gonna chuck me out?" You snorted through your nose and missed the flash of pure rage that flitted through his blown-wide pupils.

All six foot two of him towered above you, so close you could feel the heat roiling off his body and licking at your flesh. The back of your legs caught the edge of the glass coffee table and he was grabbing at your upper arms in an instant.

You gasped when his fingers dug into the meat of your arms until you almost yelped out for him to stop. Head tipped back and heart thundering from an evil cocktail of anger and bitterness, you straight up growled at him like a dog ready to lunge and attack.

"When are you going to open your fucking eyes?" he whispered, low and so very dangerous that the hairs on the nape of your neck prickled to attention.

Too wrapped in your own negative emotions, you failed to comprehend his words fully. Oblivious to the storm of desire that was rapidly rising to the surface in the male fixing you in place. You ignored his words and spat more venom at him in an attempt to get him to release you.

"When was the last time you even got laid Kiba? Haven't seen any of your airheads flouncing about in forever. They made me sick to my stomach with their simpering eyes out on stalks, drooling over you like you were some kind of fucking god."

He let go in a moment of startled surprise as your words found their mark, and you stormed towards the door only to have your wrist captured in a rough hand. Kiba pulled you back to him, the tug was so forceful that your chest bumped into his and your free hand flew to the wall of steel that was his chest in an attempt to balance yourself.

"Jealous?" he seethed, lowering his face until you were practically nose to nose

Had you been in your right mind, you might have taken a moment to process that incredibly loaded question and see it for what it actually was. Instead, your primal instincts found themselves firmly in the driving seat as a war cry pounded in your ears and a tightness grew heavy in the pit of your stomach.

You snatched your hand back and grabbed two fistfuls of his stupid tousled chestnut hair, pressing yourself onto your tiptoes to reach his wickedly curled lips.

This was no soft kiss, it was cruel and punishing.

Lips met, teeth gnashed and snarls sounded from both of your throats as Kiba reacted in kind. His hands were not gentle as he cupped your face, one hand stealing into your hair and wrapping it around his fist. He pulled, forcing your throat to strain taut and ripping your mouth away from his with a hiss.

White-hot fury veiled your vision in red. His sharp almost fang-like incisors sank into your vulnerable neck, harsh and selfish as he marked you for his own. Greedy lips followed the exquisite sting of pain, sucking at the skin indented by his teeth until the entire area would be bruised and tender to the touch when your sanity returned.

You didn't know what made you say it, the words were out of your mouth before you took note of them.

"Seems like you've been the jealous one.” Kiba froze against your frantic pulse point.

His eyes were positively feral, the pupils almost entirely swallowing his normally warm amber irises. Cheeks dabbled in rough whiskers from the late hour and the tendon from neck to collarbone straining from exertion. Kiba levelled you with a dangerous stare and you couldn't help but look away to admire his forearms instead of succumbing to his piercing gaze. The sleeves of his open shirt rolled to the elbows–a look that had you weak at the knees at the best of times–and the strength in those corded muscles was obvious to your appreciative eye.

"That’s right, m’gonna make you forget about those stupid assholes that didn't know what a treasure they had. Their loss is my gain. If you want this," he pointed to himself to emphasise the point, "if you want me, then come get it."

Without a backwards glance, he stormed to the island in his kitchen and left you there… alone and bereft of his overwhelming heat. Kiba stood with his lower back resting against the counter, one ankle crossed over the other and his arms folded as he watched you. His muscled chest heaved with every laboured breath, cheeks ruddy from the kiss you’d shared and there was a more than subtle bulge on the front of his jeans.

Did you want him, your best friend Kiba?

Hell yeah, you did!

Annoyed by your own oblivious stupidity, the puzzle pieces clicked together in your head. Kiba was downright sexy, his physique godly and a face that was both rugged and angelic depending on his mood. He was funny, a total goofball who made it his mission to keep you laughing until you were clutching your stomach and begging for mercy. A social butterfly who ensured he gave his friends equal attention, he knew every birthday and often was the ringleader of group outings and meetups.

He was your Kiba.

The person you relied upon most in the world, your constant and when you tried to imagine a world without him, it stole your breath until you were crippled by the agony. Had you been jealous of his idiotic little girlfriends? Yes, you always wanted to be the centre of his universe and they distracted from that. You had tried to mask it as a dislike for his taste in women but most of his exes had been perfectly nice if you had given them the time of day to get to know.

It was clear, that you wanted him.

You ran.

Four long strides and you threw yourself into his quickly outstretched arms. He caught you –of course, he did –bearing your weight with practised ease as you wrapped around him like climbing ivy. Hands fisting into the t-shirt that lay beneath his shirt as you found his mouth once more, sought to reclaim it and make your intentions crystal fucking clear.

This time the kiss was more tender, yet the passion was still as ardent and heady. His wide hands roamed your hips until he was kneading the meat of your ass through your pants and making your lower half grind against him in sinful bliss. The zipper of his jeans pressed against your centre through the layers of clothes and you moaned openly into his mouth.

Kiba was famished, he swallowed your lewd noises and was quick to incite more as he turned to perch you atop the counter. His hips rolled into you, languid but forceful whilst he explored the wet cavern of your mouth. Your tongue rolled over his in an erotic dance that had no end in sight. If not for your necessity to breathe, there would be no parting you and only the shared oxygen in the space created by two friends that finally breached a line that had been long held and now threatened to either tie them together or pull them apart.

You tugged expectantly at his clothes, desperate to strip him to your gaze and finally, he relented. Kiba pulled back long enough to tug off his shirt and tee, discarding them haphazardly. His warm breath fanned your cheek, stuttering when your cool fingers stroked and detailed the definition of his torso.

"Eager little thing," he growled. The smile he sported only served to highlight the ego that was often to focus of your teasing. Yet, this time no humourous jabs came to mind. For once you were glad of his self-confidence and eagerness to move things along.

He divested you of your oversized hoodie, thankful you had taken the time to put on a nice bra beneath it despite the mess you had been in earlier. His groan was heaven to your ears and when he dove to kiss you through the sheer material of your bralette you thought you had died right there and then.

Saliva dampened the already thin fabric, those dangerous wolfish teeth nipping at your pebbled buds. With your head tossed back, he used that wicked mouth of his on your breasts and you were unprepared for the piercing rip that flooded the hushed space. Kiba had torn clean through the garment, the halves falling down your arms to lay destroyed on the floor.

"Kiba!" you half yelled, half squeaked as he took that exact moment to suckle your nipple between his plush lips. Your belly quivered, the pulling sensation more intoxicating than the most potent alcohol and the feeling echoed far more intensely between your trembling thighs. Your fingers carded through his lush hair, nails scraping against his scalp and smiling indulgently at the rumble deep in his throat.

"I'll buy you more, promise baby. Lay back, need to get you naked," he said sounding entirely as drunk as you felt.

For once you were eager to follow his instruction, a novelty for Kiba who merely watched with a knowing look that promised he would deliver of your wildest fantasies if you’d just fucking listen to him, at long last. His eager fingers hooked into the waistband of your leggings and were quickly dragged down your supple legs. Slowly, he eased his calloused fingers back up your bare legs, stopping to toy with the back of your knees and listen to the subtle gasp caught tight in your throat.

Funny how you had thought he would be rough and impatient, the deed almost over with and the finish line hurtled towards at inhumane speed when here he was taking his sweet time. It was maddening when all you wanted was for him to feel the searing heat that was radiating from between your thighs, to dip his fingertips against your panties and know how drenched they already were from the mere prospect of being with him.

As if sensing your thought process, Kiba finally parted thighs whilst you rested backwards on your elbows. A low appreciative hum caught your ear and you shifted your focus to the tight grip he had on his bottom lip, teeth sinking deep and the wide flare of his nostrils like he was scenting you as an animal would do. He planted your feet and pushed your knees to the sides until you were splayed out like a cat in heat. It was vulnerable and so exhilarating you couldn't help but wriggle.

His eyes were glazed over when he, at last, moved to touch your panties, zeroing in on the obvious damp patch and letting his head roll along his neck for a second as a visible shiver passed up the length of his spine. You’d swear he appeared like those cartoon characters that have zapped with electricity, near every hair on his body rippling from the sensation.

"Have to taste you, sweetheart. My pretty fuckin’ girl."

A chaste kiss fell to your lips before he began a slow tortured path down your body, stopping here and there as he learned the spots that made you tremble and shake, noting carefully when you would whine and try to cling to him. Smug smiles and smears of his saliva were painted upon your heated skin, and he let loose a triumphant bark of laughter when you whimpered your impatience.

"Please," you mewled, a hand pressing atop his head to hurry his descent. Forward was not something you were familiar with, shyness always overtaking your urge to express your wants, but with Kiba, you knew there was no need for any such concerns.

"Tell me exactly what you want and I’ll deliver."

You could cry at the bubble of pressure that was desperate for release, sitting just below the surface, if he would just touch you.

"Wan’ you to fuck me with your mouth, need it so bad Kiba! Please–"

The last syllable had barely left your mouth before he was diving for your centre, underwear pressed aside as he nudged your clit with his nose and inhaled deeply. One roughened pad explored your slick folds, collecting the nectar and pressing it into his mouth.

His sigh was purely reverential and he settled down to devour you like a starving man sat before his first meal in weeks. It was all too much, the immediate stimulation intense enough to have your toes curling where they now rested down his broad back.

Kiba laid languid swipes of his molten tongue along your slit, alternating between flickering motions against your engorged pearl and slow circular patterns around your sopping hole. The walls of your cunt fluttered, desperate to be filled and clench around something–anything–and when his finger slipped easily inside you bucked wildly.

“Shh, keep still. Lemme hear your pretty voice but gotta hold still, yeah?” He encouraged, mouth only moving far enough way for you to hear his heated request.

It took mere minutes for you to come apart on his mouth, his digit sucked deep as he stroked your slick, spongy walls and suckled at your clit to almost pain. Your legs were limp from the unrelenting waves of euphoria that raced throughout your body and if not for the grounding palm caressing your thigh then you might have passed out there and then when white sparks shot straight through your vision.

Kiba didn’t spill a single drop of your nectar, the wet insistent muscle rolling into your cunt over and over to simply dig more of the delicious juices from your quivering body before he stood with the lower half of his face glistening in your essence. It felt… empowering. The intense lust that blazed in his eyes, a lust that was for you and no one else. Fuck. You loved him. Had for a long time. Why had you taken so long to see it for what it really was?

It wasn’t the time to get stuck in your head like this, there would be moments for these thoughts and what lay beyond but right now, you weren’t entirely satisfied and you wouldn’t be until you had milked the man looming over you for every drop he could deliver.

With renewed vigour and determination, you propped yourself on your elbows and then lunged forward towards the buckle of his belt. You’d never worked so deftly as you worked to unbuckle him, moaning at the loud metal clattering loose. Buttons worked free and zipper pulled down, the waistband of his underwear came into sight and your fingers curled around that final barrier and released with him an audible gasp mingled with his sigh of relief.

You had known he was going to be well endowed, could feel it from the press of his body only earlier, but it was still a shock to see him in all his glory, and what a glory it was. His length was impressive, but it was his girth that was the true beauty–if you could even call such a monster a beauty. Kiba's cock could barely support its own weight, the angry length tipped to a deep purple with precum leaking from the slit under your scrutiny.

It looked enormous in your petite hand, managing to encircle the shaft but only just did your fingertips meet. You stroked his velvety soft skin, paying attention to the stark veins that stood to attention and how Kiba reacted when you traced over the most prominent with a salacious smile. You scooted towards the edge of the counter, eyes locked with him with every deliberate move you made.

The head kissed against your glistening folds and you teased both of you by running the blunt tip along your slit until it bumped against your clitoral hood. His fingers were gripping the edge of the counter so tightly you feared he would crumble the marble under his strong hands if he wasn't careful. You notched him at your slowly pulsing entrance, and on a breathy keening noise, you pleaded.

"Fuck me Kiba."

You knew that he had snapped when an animalistic noise roared from his throat and the death grip moved from the counter to your hips as he pushed into your cunt. Kiba eagerly watched your walls suck him in, utterly drunk on the silken feel of you in much the same way that you were drunk on him. Every drag of his shaft rubbed delicious friction into your most intimate areas with a precision he shouldn’t yet possess. He was made for you and you were made to take him.

There would be a time for slower moments and tender loving making, for you were sure that Kiba was not going to escape from you, not now. He was yours, and you his. This alone had you urging him on, driving that feral side of him to act and do it hard and fast with nips at his lips and nails clawing down his back.

His hips pistoned like a well-oiled machine, and sweat clung to his forehead as he set a pace that saw him pounding into your pussy. A relentless rhythm that matched the pound of your heart, clammy skin on skin and kisses that acted better than any drugs ever could.

"This what you wan’? Hungry for my cock, huh?"

His words were staccato with every thrust that he delivered, your body jerking with the wild and powerful movements. Your head fell back against the counter as moan after decadent moan left your throat. Kiba's tight grip moved to your waist and he began to pull you onto his length, your back sliding against the marble top making your tits bounce and your ass slap against his pelvis. Every drag of his shaft against your walls made you keen for him, full to capacity but craving more nevertheless. He was using you like his own personal fucktoy and you were creaming around him at that knowledge, the lewd squelches of your bodies joined in this way growing louder and louder.

"Tell me. Need to hear you say it, kitten."

"Oh… fu-fuck! Need your dick, feel so good–ah!" You screamed when Kiba leaned over you and altered the angle of how he was driving into you. His mouth sucked possessive marks onto the sides of your breasts as you used the last of your hastily retreating sanity to again fist his hair and force him even closer to you.

"Tell me I'm better than those other motherfuckers. No one can fuck you like this, nobody else is worthy of this beautiful pussy," he growled, breaking from your hold to allow him to press his thumb against your clit and making you jerk at the sudden unsuspecting touch.

"Kiba–best. Gonna, oh god–m’so close. No one but you."

Your brain was a puddle, the ecstasy too much for full coherent thoughts as you felt the gush hit against his groin. You soaked him in your juices, the wet noises crescendoing whilst stars winked into your vision.

"Such a good fuckin’ girl, oh shit. What a beautiful mess you've made on me," he cooed in praise, slowing his pace but never stopping. He had to be close; your walls desperately trying to milk him, to force his release in kind.

Slowly, you returned to the earth, oversensitive from each measured stroke that he delivered until he pulled from you and wiped the sweat from his brow. He fisted his shaft as you watched, tears springing to your eyes at being denied his release.

"Wanna come down your throat, think you can manage?" he asked, his eyes burning into yours as he pumped himself.

Your thighs were shaky, the skin slick with the spill of your arousal but you managed not to fall to the floor. Kiba steadied you with his free hand, groaning in his throat as you knelt before him. His head fell back when you parted your lips and accepted him into your wet mouth.

The taste of his essence mingled with your own, sweet and bitter but definitely not unpleasant. You had never done this before and it felt so wicked as you watched Kiba come apart above you. He could barely maintain his eye contact with you, heat surging to his cheeks and his hands cradling your head in gentle reverence.

His hips jerked, your fingers sinking into his ass that flexed beneath your touch as he kissed against your throat. The muscles constricted and he faltered. "Oh fuck, so close sweetheart."

Your teeth unsheathed carefully, tongue running the length of the litany of veins that ran his shaft and teeth grazing his sensitive flesh until his fingers seized and you felt the hot spurts of his release. It poured down your throat until you pulled back, the rest pooling on your pink tongue.

Kiba panted and whined, losing himself in the moment and the feel of your scorching mouth, chest heaving with each laboured inhale. You showed him the milky seed that coated your tongue, watching his eyes roll to the back of his skull the second after you swallowed audibly and opened up to show your now empty mouth.

The seconds ticked by and neither of you moved as your breathing slowly returned to normal. How gorgeous he looked to you, spent and blushing. The massive frame of his body–Kiba’s body–completely undone by your actions and your body.

"That's one way to get over Hidan," he groused, trying to turn from you.

You were not going to allow him to step away from this, two hearts were on the line and you refused to see him in pain. You stood abruptly, possibly a mistake given how your thighs quaked but not giving a shit at the moment. You pulled him back to you, arms resting over his wide shoulders and placing a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth. Pouring every bit of love and desire into your expression, you fixed him with a sincere smile and watched his eyes widen and soften, the creases smoothing out to reveal his true self, the one you were intimately familiar with.

"Who?"

#delirious writes #kiba inuzuka #kiba x reader #kiba smut #kiba angst #kiba x you #kiba

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