#I’m so sorry I KEEP remembering things it’s like she was testing the water with my reactions…

[room4creation]

No guys seriously I can’t believe I’ve figured this out I don’t even know how it came into my head so that means it was GOD.

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Most Wanted (Mafia Boss!Toji x Spy!Self-Insert!Reader 18+ One Shot) [COMMISSION FILL]

"I’m gonna make sure you remember tonight and what happens when you fuck with a guy like me."

*IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: THIS WORK CONTAINS R*PE & NONCON SEXUAL ACTS. PLEASE MIND THE TAGS AND READ LIGHTLY.

Pairing: Toji Fushigiro x Self-Insert!Reader (Enemies to Lovers)

Synopsis: You’re a highly skilled hitwoman. You’ve been doing this for years–getting paid to take hits on the wealthy and corrupt at your agency’s order. You figure taking a hit on the renowned Tokyo mafia boss Toji Fushigiro won’t be any different. However, things take a terrifying turn for you, and your skills are put to the test when you go undercover as a dancer at his favorite club and give him a private dance. But instead of killing you, Toji takes it upon himself to punish you and show you what happens when you fuck with him.

Warnings: Smutty Smut, 18+; Porn with Plot; Physical Fighting; Gun Play; Knife Play; Noncon/R*pe; Forced Deepthroat; Mutual Oral; Forced Orgasm; Lap Dancing/Pole Dancing; Doggystyle; Spit Play; Degradation + Praise; Rough Sex; Choking; Hair Pulling; Unprotected PIV Sex; Creampie; Some Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: Here you go lovely!! @curiouscutie143 I hope you & everyone other toji lovers enjoy this. I had so much fun writing this & I tried to make it as nasty as I could lol. I may write another mafia!toji thing in the future just cuz this shit was soooo fun. Enjoy! -Jazz

*********

“Peaches, you’re needed in the backrooms.” 

You resist the urge to smile as you turn around from your seat at the bar, sipping on some water after your dance and sweet-talking a middle-aged bank broker into his pockets. It’s important to keep up the facade.

“Comin’,” you tell your coworker and turn to the broker who looks ready to dive into your cleavage. 

“Sorry, but I’ve gotta run,” you sigh, acting apologetic. He frowns at you, making the wrinkles and lines in his face more evident. “But this shouldn’t take too long. Find me afterward?”

The broker puts his hand on yours, accidentally using the hand his gold marriage band sits on. “You’ve got it, baby,” he purrs. “I’ve got some dollars just waitin’ on ya.” 

He gives you a wink before polishing off his whiskey and walking away from the bar, leaving you to breathe and collect your thoughts. You turn to the bottle girl, waving her down. “One shot of Patron, please!” you yell above the music blaring from the overhead speakers. She nods, scurrying to fetch you a much-needed shot. It will be the first alcoholic drink you’ve had since your shift started. 

You suddenly hear a buzz from your right ear and instantly put your hand up against it under your hair. “V,” a gruff voice says into your earpiece. “Come in, V. It’s been 20 minutes since we last talked. Did you get him yet?” 

You scan the upscale strip club pulsing with purple and red strobe lights and booming with activity: businessmen and regular-degular customers tossing money at the dancers on stage who spin around poles and do splits in their thongs and heels.

“Target was sighted five minutes earlier, sir,” you whisper into the earpiece given to you by your agency. “He is currently in the backrooms waiting for me. He came alone. He made eye contact with me ten minutes ago, so he may be asking for me.” 

More like you made eye contact with him and had been since he walked in. He is impossible to miss with how tall and buff he is. His black V-neck tee stuck to his pectorals and abs while his jeans hung low on his hips.

You had expected he’d be flashier with his wealth by wearing obvious designer clothing, but you figured that he had to keep a low profile as well. Beneath the V-neck that hung from his neck, you could see the tattoos that roped over his chest just like his arms. The healed scar at the corner of his smirk as his green eyes scanned the place over told you that this was, indeed, your target. 

He stood between two bodyguards in suits half his size, giving off an intimidating aura, especially with the guns at their hips. But you’d expect nothing less from Toji Fushigiro, Tokyo’s most notorious mafia boss. 

He is powerful. He is wealthy. He is known throughout Tokyo and Japan for being the head of Tokyo’s infamous mafia gang, the spot being passed down by his father. He is also a criminal. White-collar crime, organized crime, drug trafficking––you name it, Toji does it. 

He is also known for his scare tactics on those who owe him a debt. He’s held man over bridges, threatening to drop them in the murky waters below. He’s pistol-whipped. He’s choked. He’s stomped. He’s jumped guys in alleyways and left them for dead. He is a man of his word. If he tells you he’ll fuck you up if you don’t give him his money in a certain amount of time, he’ll do it. 

He is the number one man current on your hitlist…and your agency’s. They knew it was a good idea to employ you, their top hitwoman, to Toji’s favorite club to take him out for good. Though he didn’t show up when you started at the club a couple of weeks ago, you knew it was only a matter of time until he showed up. 

And now, he is. As soon as he was in the club, everyone’s eyes were on him. Dancers scurried to the pole and backstage to change into their best outfits to milk him out of his pockets. Bartenders and bottle girls quickly wiped down counters and took care of customers as quickly as possible so they could tend to him. Your manager barreled toward him with complimentary champagne and a spot in the VIP section. 

As Toji walked with your manager, your eyes met across the room. They met again while he sat in the VIP section when he should’ve been watching a dancer twirl around the pole in front of him. Both times were fleeting, but they affected you completely. His green eyes, like mirrors to a forest, sent chills down your spine and made your stomach flip. His gaze was intense. Intimate. His eyes made it hard to relax or act like a normal dancer working her shift at the club. 

He seemed to know what he was doing to you or he was sizing you up because he would simply smirk and sip on his whiskey on the rocks and puff on his cigar, his soft lips forming Os and blowing the smoke into the strobe-lit air. You can understand why so many women fell for him, but you aren’t one of them. The tiny gun strapped to your hip proves it. 

Your real boss sighs in relief. “Excellent work,” he praises. “Unfortunately, we can’t see what you’re doing from over at headquarters and we’re still working on connecting the audio to hear what’s happening around you, so just fill us in on what you do next until then. All you have to do now is walk back there and complete the mission as we discussed.” 

You toss an arm over the bar, stretching your coffin-shaped nails along the polished bar. “Of course,” you reply with a smirk. “Don’t I always?”

The bartender returns with your shot and you down it at once, relishing the burn and the way it loosened you right up. “I’ll keep you informed,” you say. “Just stay near the phone.” 

“Be careful,” your boss says before the line cuts. You check your makeup in the bar before you get up from the bar and strut over to your beautiful, blonde coworker in her red lingerie and heels. “Hey, Yuki,” you greet her. 

She smiles at you and guides you to the backrooms where the wealthier customers usually take the girls to get a dance…or something more. Sexual exchanges aren’t allowed, but the manager never complains if they bring in more money. You and Yuki peer down the hallway to the double doors of a private room where Toji’s bodyguards stand. 

“Why the guards?” you ask, pretending to be confused. “Is the President here or somethin’?” Yuki turns you to face her, her eyes wide. “Even bigger,” she replies. “He’s the hot guy with the scar who comes in here often. He’s a mafia boss, apparently. Super hot, but very powerful. The bossman gave him his pick of any girl he wanted and he picked you.” 

You do your best to hide your smirk. You knew you had him. “Me?” you ask breathlessly. “Why me?” Yuki shrugs, just as clueless. “Don’t know, but I was sent out to fetch you. He’s willin’ to pay double the amount of a regular lapdance, but he didn’t say if he wanted it topless, naked or not.” She gives you a worried look, furrowing her blonde brows. “You sure you up for it, hon?” she asks. “I know you’ve taken high rollers before, but he ain’t even a high roller! He’s beyond that!” 

To sell it even more, you bite your lip, acting nervous but intrigued. “I can do it,” you reply. “Just hold my hand when you walk me in there.” Yuki obliges and squeezes your hand as you begin to walk toward the guards, heels clicking across the floor. 

“Target is in sight,” you whisper into your earpiece, turning away from Yuki and putting your mouth in your arm to muffle your voice. “I’m walkin’ to the backrooms now where he’s located.” 

“Excellent, V!” your boss says. “Just do it as we discussed. Don’t falter, don’t yield, and don’t lose focus.” The three rules of being a spy. You never forgot them. Finally, you come to the guards and Yuki smiles up at them. “I’m here with Peaches,” Yuki announces. “The girl Mr. Fushigiro asked for.” 

You plaster a bright, charming smile on your face. It must work because the guards budge and step out of the way for you. One of them opens the door for you and Yuki, holding it. “Step in,” he orders. You thank him and scurry inside the dimly lit room with an included mini-bar, a single stripper pole, and leather lounging couches. Toji currently sits in one of them, legs spread and eyes hooded as he puffs on a blunt and sips on his drink. 

His green eyes pierce into your very soul when he eyes you in the doorway. “Here she is, sir,” Yuki says. “Just as you requested. And she’s just as pretty as I told you she is.” She moves your hair out of your face, exposing your pretty false flashes, Fenty Beauty gloss, and accentuated features to the boss. 

Toji hums, liking what he sees. “Yes, she is,” he agrees. “Tell your boss thanks. He can expect some good business out of me once the night is through.” Yuki nods and gives your arm a squeeze. “Good luck,” she whispers before heading off. The doors close and you are left alone with your hit. 

Neither one of you moves toward the other, staying posted to your spots. Toji takes a puff on his blunt and lights taps it above the ashtray next to him. “Y’know, you’re mighty pretty up close,” he purrs. “I’ve been wonderin’ what you’d look like up close instead of across the room.” 

You finally look at him, noticing how big he is even sitting down. “So you’ve been watchin’ me tonight?” you ask. He nods, his eyes trailing down your form. “I knew I hadn’t seen ya before,” he continues. “I come here often and I would’ve remembered seein’ a face and a rack like that.” 

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Charmer, aren’t you?” you sarcastically question. 

He smirks at your wittiness. He likes that bite in a woman. “When I wanna be, but you’ll have to forgive me; the liquor makes me bolder than I already am.” His tongue jets out to lick his lips. “But you’ve gotta give a guy credit for bein’ honest and that lil’ outfit don’t leave much to the imagination.” 

You go to wrap your arms around yourself but then stop. You need to sell this and if you’re forced to stand here in a mini dress that barely covers your ass or titties with heels that could crush a bitch in front of your hit who also happens with me enticingly sexy, then so be it. Toji’s gaze softens somewhat, noticing your discomfort. “You are very beautiful, Peaches,” he genuinely says. “Is it okay if I use your name?” 

“Thank you, Mr. Fushigiro,” you softly reply. “And no, it’s fine. It’s what I’m known as around here anyway. I started here five weeks ago.” He nods, sipping on his whiskey. “Call me Toji.” 

“Toji,” you parrot, slowly striding towards the pole in the middle of the room, an overhead speaker playing soft R&B overhead. “You’re quite the man. The entire club seems to be in a frenzy over you.” 

His smirk widens, proud and cocky. “They always are,” he chuckles. “Don’t know why. This place gets plenty of people bigger than me all the time, especially international celebs. I heard Drake was here not too long ago.” You give a dry “mm-hmm” as you grasp the pole. Toji takes that answer another way. “What, you don’t like Drake?” he snorts. 

“He’s okay,” you reply, short and impatient. “So what are you here for? To talk or to watch me dance?” You wrap a hand around the pole and pop your hip out, waiting for him to give you an order. 

“Depends.” He sits up, leaning forward to get a better look at you. “What are you willin’ to do tonight for me? ‘Cause we can just sit here and talk. I wouldn’t mind hearin’ that pretty voice all night.” His green eyes gleam with mirth and a small hint of lust.

“Definitely a charmer,” you chuckle. “That’s fine if you’re willin’ to pay, though we don’t have a rate for conversation.” 

He laughs at this, the sound deep and raspy yet pleasant to the ear. He takes another puff on his blunt before he lowers it down onto the ashtray. “Then let’s cut to the chase,” he sniggers. “It’s $500 for a 10-minute dance, right? I want 20 minutes, so that would make…”

He begins to count on his fingers but then stops. “A lot,” he chuckles. “I’ll probably ask for you to strip though. Are you okay with that, Peaches?” 

You feel something flip inside of you at the mention of all of that money and how passive he is about it. Any girl working here would do whatever he wanted for 20 minutes! “I’m a stripper,” you reply passively. “What else am I gonna do?” 

Toji tsks, grimacing at you. “Damn, what kinda attitude is that?” he laughs. “A beauty like you should be more adamant about showin’ off her body. Can I offer you a drink to get you in the mood?” He nods at the mini bar overflowing with bottles of tequila, vodka, and liquor.

“I don’t drink on the job,” you reply. “Music helps.” You suddenly hear a buzz in your ear and then your boss’ gruff voice: “Give me the rundown, V,” he demands. 

You want another drink?” you ask. You nod at Toji’s empty glass and he agrees, so you walk over to the bar. To him, you’re seemingly looking for a bottle of whiskey, bent down to look through the racks. “With the target now,” you whisper. “Just waiting for the right time to attack. Give me a second.” 

Once the line goes dead, you walk back over to Toji and pour him a bottle. As you bend down, you give him an ample view of your titties much to his enjoyment. As you do, you slip the gun out of your dress and place it under the couch where only you can find it. Once done, you leave the bottle with him, and step back, hands on your hips. He sits back against the couch, preparing for the show. “Whenever you’re ready, darlin’,” he purrs, his eyes filled with obvious lust and attraction. 

With a slow song playing above and the lights dipping into an almost ominous red shade, you begin to move to the beat. You roll your hips, swaying them side to side and front to back, almost as if you’re grinding on Toji despite him being several feet away from you. You let the music take control of you as you grasp the pole and begin to grind against it, dipping low to wind your ass in his face. 

You do a few tricks on the pole for him–jumping and spinning around it, your thighs wrapped tight around the metal pole; squatting and lifting up your dress to bounce your ass, etc.–before you turn to look at him over your shoulder, flipping your hair. Toji’s eyes are hooded and lustful, all from the weed, the whiskey, and the effect you’re having on him. Despite the situation, it feels good to have an attractive man ogle at your plump frame. 

“Take off the dress,” he demands, a slight growl in his voice. You don’t turn to face him, instead still facing the wall as you carefully unzip the back of your dress. The thin piece of clothing falls off of your body, revealing all of your rolls, curves, and the matching glittery bra and thong set. 

“Shit!” Toji hisses, ogling at your asscheeks in your glittery thong. “Your back don’t hurt carryin’ that around?” 

You finally turn around and find him leaning forward, his hands clenching his thighs. “You don’t look like you’re ready,” you giggle, winding your hips and toying with your titties in their cups. “Did you talk too much big game, Toji?”

The boss looks like he can’t even speak, his scarred lips parted as he stares you down. “Goddamn,” he hisses. “How some horny fuck didn’t propose to you and steal you out of here yet is beyond me.” 

You give a light, tittering laugh, smiling down at him. “Well, if someone did that, I wouldn’t be here with you.” He looks happy with that response. You then twist around and bend over for him, giving him a full view of your full, round, perfect ass. “Can you handle it, baby?” you purr. “Can you handle me?” 

You quickly pop up and turn around, finding him shifting in his seat and gritting his jaw. “I should be askin’ you that,” he growls. “Come the fuck here.” Deciding not to tease him any longer, you strut over to him, feeling sexy and irresistible. It’s strange that the same man you were sent to kill is doing this to you. 

His eyes have grown several shades darker, reminding you of the deepest, darkest parts of a jungle. “Dance for me,” he demands. “Not on the pole; on me.” He opens his legs wider for you and pats his lap, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Though clients often get handsy when dancers give them lapdances here, you decide that it’s best to do as he says. 

Plus, you’d be lying if you said that you aren’t curious to feel him for yourself. So you place your hands on his thick, muscular highs and begin to roll your body before squatting down, popping up between his legs. You reach up to drag your palms and long nails down his chest, feeling up his abs and toned stomach. He allows it, staring down at you with a look that would make a nun blush. 

You then stand up between his legs before turning around and lowering yourself down into his lap. “Shit,” he whispers, watching the way you work your ass along his lap and the jean-clad bulge that has begun to make an appearance. You twerk and bounce on top of him before he takes a drag of his blunt, blowing the air away from you. “You ever shotgun before?” he asks, his lips close to your ear now. 

Your body grows hot from him being so close, the attraction ironically magnetic. Slowly, you shake your head and Toji chuckles, adoring your mix of cute and sexy. “C’mere.” You lean back and tilt your head up while he takes another puff of his blunt. He holds the marijuana smoke before puckering his lips up and leaning down as if to kiss you. Slowly, the smoke travels from his lips to yours in an indirect kiss that leaves you breathless and your head dizzy. 

You can’t deny it: you’re wet. Your pussy has never been this wet for any man before…and he’s the enemy! Toji seems to feel it too judging by the hard-on you can feel pressing into your thigh. You shift onto his knee and begin grinding your ass back, doing your best to not grind your pussy against his thigh. 

“So you got a name other than that stripper shit?” he randomly asks you. You are immediately taken out of your lustful haze, remembering why you’re here. “I don’t remember us talkin’ about personal shit,” you dryly reply. “I don’t give my real name out to men I don’t know.” 

Then, for the first time tonight, Toji touches you. His big hand lowers onto your thigh and squeezes. You don’t try to move it but you are alarmed. “Oh, but you do know me, darlin’,” he replies, digging his fingers into your flesh. “And I know you, V.” 

At the mention of your real name, you freeze. The world freezes with you, everything seeming to cease their existence including the music that continues to play overhead. But you don’t hear it. All you can hear is your own blood pumping loudly in your eardrums. Toji releases you and you quickly jump off of him, turning toward him. 

He just sits there staring at you, a humorous smirk playing on his lips. The smile is no longer attractive to you anymore. Suddenly, you feel disoriented. You feel like you may vomit or drop to the floor in your heels. Your earpiece buzzes to life again in your ear. “V!” your boss calls. “We just got the audio working again. What’s happening?” He sounds panicked, just as much as you are. 

Toji bares his pearly whites at you as he calmly reaches for his whiskey. “Ah, now them wheels are turnin’ in that pretty little head,” he chuckles. “You know, you dance almost as good as you lie. I can see why you were put here to go undercover.” He takes a sip and licks the remnants away from his top lip, still staring you down. 

“Ain’t that right?” he asks and it feels like a snake has just silvered up your back and sunk its teeth in you, paralyzing you. 

“Y/N, he knows!” your boss hisses. “Stand down! Don’t do anything stupid!” He continues to yell and scream at you about aborting the mission and telling you that someone will be there soon, but you can’t quite hear him. It’s like you’re underwater and he’s standing above ground, his voice muffled and murky. 

For a few seconds that seem like a lifetime, you and Toji stare each other down, waiting for the other to make the first move. Your body kicks into fight or flight, the freeze stage having already been awakened. Inisctively, you shift into fight mode. Quickly, you take the bottle of whiskey and bring it down towards Toji’s head, but he catches your wrist like it’s nothing. 

You grunt, wincing at the pain of his grip. “Oh, you wanna play, huh?” he cackles. “Goin’ against your boss’ little rules just to take me out? How cute.”

With a wail of effort, you swing your other hand at his head but he catches that too. Counting on this, you bring your leg up and kick him hard in the groin. He immediately releases you and lurches forward, holding his junk, giving you a chance to grab your gun from under the couch.

“Don’t move,” you growl, cocking the gun at him. “You move and I’ll shoot.” 

Toji, red in the face and panting, glares up at you. “Please,” he scoffs. “You act like you’re the first bitch that’s put a gun to my head.” Before you can blink, he is swinging the bottle at you. You duck which is a mistake because Toji uses that opening to tackle you to the ground. You struggle and growl, turning into an animal as he wrestles with you for your gun. 

He ends up winning, flipping you over and pinning you down to the floor with his body. “Get off!” you scream, still wriggling around. “Get off me!” Click. The barrel of your gun presses to your temple. “If you don’t shut up, I’ll make you regret it,” he growls. 

His fingers move your hair back away from your ear and pry the earpiece out of your ear. He snarls at it as if it’s nothing but a bug. “God, they made these things so much smaller now.” He stands up, keeping the gun on you, and stomps on the earpiece, breaking it. “Whoops!” he mockingly says. “They should still be able to find ya though. I don’t plan on movin’ ya to another location…if you don’t piss me off.” 

The gun clicks again. “Turn around slowly,” he demands. Despite your reluctance to do so, you slowly turn around and face him, lying on your back with your own shit pointed at you as Toji stands above you. “How did you know?” you whisper. 

He smirks, appearing like the Devil in your eyes. “It wasn’t hard, darlin’,” he chuckles. “Dancers don’t eye me up the way you were. You looked like you were out for blood, not dollars. Not to mention the gun I saw at your hip.” You flush, cursing yourself. You should’ve been smarter. Of course, he would know. He spends his days having people hunt him down. 

His smirk fades, his expression darkening. “Who sent you?” he demands. “And don’t lie. You don’t wanna know what I do with liars.” The gun cocks, his finger trained on the trigger. You glare at him, hating his guts even more than you had before you met him. So you weakly confess. He guffaws, shaking his head in disbelief. “Damn, those guys? They’ve been after me for years!” 

“You’re a criminal,” you hiss despite the gun in your face. “You only got this far because of you dippin’ your hands in crime and gettin’ blood on your fists. I’m here to stop you.”

Toji’s brows raise in shock though he’s intrigued by your stubbornness. He squats down in front of you, still pointing the gun at your head. “And how are you gonna do that, huh, little girl?” he asks. 

Not even thinking, you hollow your lips and wallop a glob of spit in Toji’s handsome face before quickly turning over and scrambling to the door. However, Toji is just as fast and has his big, tatted arms wrapped around you, squeezing you tight. You can’t elbow him anywhere because your arms are stuck in his, leaving you to kick and wriggle.

“Oooh, I love a feisty bitch,” he chuckles. “Makes it a lot more fun to break ‘em.” 

He begins to walk with you over to a nearby wall and slams you against it, knocking the air out of your lungs. You find yourself pressed against the wall and him who is equally as hard and unmoving as the solid wall against your front.

He shoves the side of your face into the wall while he pins your arms behind your back, causing your muscles to explode with pain at being stretched back too far. “Get off!” you cry. “O-Ow, that hurts!” 

Toji tugs on your arms again, emitting a weak whine of pain from you. “That’s what you get for fuckin’ with me,” he growls. “Now what should I do with you? Kill you? Leave your agency to find you here?” The gun once again presses against your temple, cold and unrelenting. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, tears pushing back the ducks. You can’t beat this. You can’t fight this. “Do it,” you sob. “Just do it!” You go limp against him, waiting to feel that bullet penetrating your skull and for the void to come to collect you…but instead, Toji takes the gun away from you, leaving an indent on your temple. “No,” he says. “I’ve got a better idea.” 

You open your eyes, confused but also scared. What else is he planning to do with you? Before you can answer, you hear the undeniable sounds of his zipper coming down and the clinking of his metal belt buckle. Your body instant seizes, fear flooding your insides.

“I’m gonna make sure you remember tonight and what happens when you fuck with a guy like me. Tonight, babydoll, you’re mine. You don’t have a choice. You’re mine and I’m gonna show you what that means.” 

With his belt finally in his hands, he trains the gun on you. “Put your hands against the wall and stick that ass out,” he demands, his voice void of all emotion. “Do it now.” Outnumbered and out of tricks, you do as he says, trembling as you do so. 

“Bad girls like you need to be punished,” he says before the belt comes down hard onto your right asscheek. WHACK! The sharp sound of the leather hitting the soft, jiggly flesh of your ass penetrates the air. It feels like fire has licked your skin and your knees buckle at the pain. “Ow!” you cry out. 

Toji cackles at your agony, finding enjoyment and cuteness in it. “What, that hurt?” he laughs. “You don’t like the pain? I’m sure a girl like you has taken plenty of worse things before.” He raises his arm and whips the same cheek twice.

WHACK! WHACK! You flinch at each sharp hit, each one becoming more painful than the last. “Hurts, don’t it?” he snickers. “Don’t you regret pullin’ that shit with me now, babydoll, hm?” 

He then proceeds to whip your left cheek, not allowing you any time to recover or breathe. 

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! You bite your lip so hard that you nearly draw blood, the burning of your backside too much to bear. “S-Stop!” you whine. “Please stop!” 

Toji’s big hands wrap around your mouth, covering it. “Don’t speak,” he whispers into your ear, his breath the scent of whiskey and mint. “You don’t get to speak. Just take it.” You have no choice but to do so as he wails on your ass again and again, the leather cracking like fire against your jiggly ass. “God, that recoil,” he groans. “I’m gonna enjoy my time with you, baby doll.” 

You don’t answer, too busy holding back tears that have begun to push at your eye sockets. Toji finally stops and tosses his head back to laugh. “Are you cryin’?” he laughs in disbelief. “Damn, and all from some spankings? And here I thought you were this tough bitch.” 

You burn with resentment and humiliation, but all of that is pushed aside when he forces you to stand up straight and tugs your arms behind your back. You begin to panic but don’t say anything as he tightens his belt around your wrists and locks the belt buckle around them. “Turn around,” he finally says. 

Despite your tiny sobs, you do so and face him. His eyes are hooded and dark with obvious lust for you. He uses one big hand to force you onto your knees, right in front of his open fly and hard cock that you can see pressing against his designer briefs. “I’ll give you somethin’ to cry about,” he growls. He points the gun at your face, specifically at your lips. “Open your mouth and suck on it.” 

His expression, dark and chilling you to the bone, makes you feel as if you don’t have a choice..and not the loaded gun pressing to your lips. Swallowing hard, you shakily open your mouth and he slides the pistol in. The metal feels cold and hard in your mouth, making you cringe. “That’s it,” Toji chuckles. “Take that shit, baby. C’mon, don’t you wanna please me?” 

Slowly, you begin to suck, hollowing your lips out against the gun. Though you tremble and shake, you squeeze your eyes shut and try to imagine the gun as a hard, warm, throbbing cock instead. Toji moans as if you’re sucking on him, watching your tongue swirl along the barrel and your head bob. 

“Fuck, baby doll,” he groans. “You’ve got such a mouth on ya.” He slides it in further, the metal scraping against your teeth, until he reaches your throat. You gag and try to pull away, but Toji grips the back of your head.

“Uh-uh, mama,” he snickers. “You don’t get to get outta this. C’mon, just open your throat and breathe through your nose. You can do it.” He continues to push and pull, the gun sliding in and out of your mouth, while you struggle to breathe. You can feel sweat pool under your pits and between your cleavage all from your fear. Toji’s finger isn’t on the trigger anymore, but it doesn’t matter. He could change that in a second. 

So you suck and you slurp and you bob your head up and down like a good little slut, staring him into his eyes while spit drips from your lips. Finally satisfied, Toji pulls the gun out of your lips now coated in your saliva. “You fuckin’ slut,” he pants. “Now I need to try ya out for myself.” 

He pockets the gun and, with one hand, pulls down his briefs. His big, long, throbbing, veiny, perfect-looking dick springs to life. It damn near hits you in the face, making you gasp. “Sorry, mama,” he chuckles. “He just likes you.”

He wraps a hand around his 12-inch dick, pumping it lewdly in your face. “So you finna stare at it or suck it?” he deadpans, but he doesn’t wait for you to answer or recover. 

“W-Wait,” you stammer.

That’s all you get to say before his cock is pushing between your lips and into your mouth. He releases a moan when he first slides into your mouth, his eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your wet mouth, soft lips, and tongue wrapping around him. Meanwhile, you’re struggling to take him. His girthy dick stretches out your jaw and your throat as he pushes himself in deep. 

“C’mon, babydoll,” he chuckles. “That can’t be all you can take of me.” He continues to push, filling your tongue and nostrils with the scent and taste of him. The walls of your throat have no choice but to accommodate his size though it burns and you gag as he begins to slowly yet roughly thrust into your mouth. “Maybe this will help ya out,” he says. Suddenly, he retrieves a pocket knife from his pocket and flicks it open. 

Fear flares into your stomach, making you want to jump away, but his large hand keeps you locked down on his cock. He presses the knife to your throat, chuckling as he does. “Careful now,” he warns. “You lean too close and that pretty neck might get sliced. I just wanna encourage you to do a good job.” He grips your hair and wrenches it up to look at him. “And you will do a good job for me, won’t you?” he asks. 

His tone makes it so you can’t refuse, so you say yes and allow him to force your head back down onto his cock before pulling it back. He does that for a while––pushing and pulling your head down onto his dick like you’re his toy while he uses your sloppy, wet mouth like it’s a fleshlight. “Fuck!” he shouts to the ceiling. “This fuckin’ mouth is heaven, baby. I hope your pussy is just as tight as your tight ass throat.” 

You gargle and mumble on his cock, causing pleasurable vibrations to travel throughout his body and his heavy balls that drip with your saliva. He continues to fuck your face and ruin your makeup, marveling at how beautiful you look choking on his cock. “Look at you, you little slut,” he dreamily sighs. “Makeup all fucked up. Hair ruined. You’re just a little mess for me, aren’t ya?” 

He slides his cock out of your throat and you take a grateful gulp of air, strands of your hair stuck to your wet lips and chin. He takes the knife and slides it along your chin, smirking down at you. “Now it’s my turn to taste you,” he murmurs. Before you can protest, he is picking you up, tossing you over his shoulder, and placing you on your stomach with your arms still tied behind you. 

“Please!” you sob, beginning to cry again. Toji straddles your ass, one hand massaging the globes of fat in your thong while the other holds his knife. “Please what, baby?” he mockingly coos. “I ain’t even touch you yet.” You then feel the cool metal of the knife dragging up your spine, sending shivers down your spine. “Time to get your sexy ass out of these fuckin’ clothes,” he growls. 

You flinch when you feel the knife drag up to your left shoulder where it cuts the bra strap. He does the same to your left one before positioning you onto your knees with your wrists slung over the couch arm. Your tits are now exposed, hanging like ripe, juicy fruit beneath you. Then off comes your thong with two swipes of the knife cutting through the thin straps. You sob helplessly as the cool air touches your sodden, wet pussy. 

“Damn, baby!” Toji cackles. “Are you wet from all this? You naughty little girl.” His middle and forefingers gently probe your entrance and slide up and down your slit, dragging unwanted moans out of you. “I’m gonna have some fun with you,” he chuckles. “Make sure you never forget about me.” 

He then bends you over the couch and proceeds to put his hot, wet, experienced mouth on your pussy while the knife stays pressed against your thigh. You whine at the feeling of his soft lips and tongue swirling along your clit and every sensitive part of you, opening your pussy up to more of him. He drowns in your pussy, pushing his face into it as far as he can and letting his tongue do all of the talking. 

You can’t stop the moans and gasps that escape you. The pleasure is just too much and too good! What a shame that a man who is so good at eating kitty is the same man you were sent here to kill. “Toji,” you moan, using his name for the first time ever. “Please…please!” 

Toji’s one hand massages and smacks your ass, becoming aoslutely obessed with it. “What do you need, babydoll?” he coos against your clit. “You need somethin’?” You nod helplessly though you have no clue what you need at this point. “Tell me you’re mine then,” he growls. “Say it and fuckin’ mean it. Say you’re my good little slut.” 

You keep your lips clamped tight, not wanting to swallow your pride or give up that tiny part of you that hates him still. SPANK! Your ass stings from his assault on your ass, his hand no doubt leaving a handprint. “Say it!” he bellows. 

At the blinding pain, pleasure, and delirium, you break. “I’m yours!” you sob. “I’m your good girl! Your good little slut! I’m everything you want me to be!”

Toji, pleased, presses soothing kisses to your burning asscheek. “Good girl,” he praises. “See how easy that was? Now you get your reward.” Suddenly, you feel his thick cock smack against your pussy once, twice, three times and then he is sliding home inside of you. 

Your mouth goes slack and your eyes grow wide as he begins to rocks his hips into, allowing you to get used to him. He is big. You can feel him stretching out every part of your cunt as he sinks deeper into your velvety, wet walls. “Fuck,” he sighs, one hand clutching your hip. “Not bad, babydoll. Your pussy is definitely the best one I’ve fucked…so far.” 

He begins to fuck you harder, faster, railing you as if this will be his last time doing so. Your moans and huffs of breath become louder and more intense the harder and deeper his cock plunges inside of you. “W-Wait!” you gasp. “Slow down! I can’t…can’t!”

Toji chuckles, watching your ass bounce against his pelvis as he fucks you. “Sorry, honey,” he says, not sounding sorry at all. “I couldn’t help it. You just sound so cute.” 

Your thighs clench and your body writhes as he rails you, unable to take this deep dicking into the couch. You try to move away but the knife suddenly sliding against your throat stops you. “Uh-uh, babydoll,” he growls. “Don’t run from me. I wouldn’t try it if I were you.” He then pops his knee up, his foot up on the couch, and reaches a part inside of you that makes you feel unimaginable pleasure. 

“Just take me like a good girl, okay?” he whispers. “You can do that for me if you wanna live.” You don’t have a choice in the matter, mostly because of the hold he has on your arms, pulling you back as drives himself forward again and again. The sound of your moans, his grunts, and the lewd plap, plap, plap as his balls swing against your overly-sensitive clit and his hips slam into your ass fill the air, drowned out by the music playing outside. 

“Who would’ve thought,” Toji pants into your ear. “C.O.D.E.’s good little spy gettin’ her brains fucked out on a mission, huh? I bet they’d love to see this.” His free hand releases your arms and yanks on a handful of your hair. “I bet they’d love to see you full of me,” he growls. “Full of this dick and my cum.”

He presses the knife deeper into your throat, just enough for you to feel the sharp, jagged edge of the blade. “You wanna cum for me, baby?” he asks. “You gonna be a good slut and take all my cum too?” 

“Please!” you whimper, losing your mind and all of your pride. “Please just make me cum! I’ll do whatever you want, Toji!” He takes the knife from your throat and replaces it with his hand, choking you as he fucks you stupid. “Then do it,” he demands. “Fuckin’ cum on this cock while I fill you up. Cum with me now!” 

“Ah, ah, fuck, I-I’m gonna cum!” you deliriously sob as he continues to pound into you. “I’m gonna…gonna–!”

You don’t get a chance to finish because your pussy has finally reached its limit and explodes all over him, your walls squeezing around him and your clit shuddering. You reaching your peak triggers Toji and he grips your throat and ass as he comes to a still, his entire body tensing. “Fuck!” he bellows, cumming deep, deep, deep inside of you. 

You gasp as you feel a rush of warm liquid flood into your pussy while you gush all over his cock, dripping down his balls. He fills you to the brim, giving you so much that it has no choice but to trickle down your thighs. He doesn’t immediately pull out though––he continues to fuck you, albeit slowly and sloppily, before giving your tit one feeble squeeze and finally pulling out of you. 

You weakly moan at the feeling of being empty yet used, your pussy twitching and aching. “Mmm, now look at that,” he sighs dreamily, staring at your cum-soaked cunt. “Now that’s a properly fucked pussy if I do say so myself.” He takes a handful of your chin, squeezing your cheeks together, and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Not bad, babydoll.” 

You don’t respond, too weak and too tired to do so. You’re too tired to even feel any amount of disgust for him and shame in yourself for failing the mission and enjoying the sex. “Let’s get this off of you,” Toji says, his hands unbuckling the belt from your wrists. “I’m gon’ need it for myself, anyway.” He releases your wrists and lets you lay on the couch, panting and coated in sweat. 

Your makeup and hair are ruined. Your underwear is in tatters. You feel used and fucked-out. You can only stare at Toji as he quickly gets dressed and straightens out his clothes, his cock still covered in you. “I’m sorry, baby, but I’ve gotta go before your people get here.” He gives you an apologetic smile. “But gimme a call since I’m sure you can find that out. Maybe we can do this again.” 

He then moves to the extra bathroom behind the couch and retrieves a robe which he covers you with. “See?” he chuckles. “I ain’t that big of an asshole.” He presses a kiss to your lips before bending down to pick up your thong. “Thanks for this,” he says, dangling it in front of you. “And the dance. I’ll cherish both forever.” 

You don’t say anything, even as you watch him leave, taking your thong and your dignity with you.

Then you are alone. At some point, you find the strength to stand up and wobble to the bathroom where you take a hot shower, washing the scent of sex and cum off of you. When you return, dressed in your robe, the door busts in, and your boss and fellow spies enter the room, guns drawn and masks on their faces. 

“V!” your boss shouts, instantly dropping his weapon and running to you. His eyes widen at your state, looking for any bruises or scars. There are none…that are physical, anyway. “V, what happened?” he asks. 

And as the events of tonight come flooding back to you at full speed, you muster up the most believable lie you can, clutching your robe closed: 

“He overpowered me.” 

[shellshocklove]

conversation | peter parker

pairing: college!peter parker x college!female!reader

summary: peter parker is in the friendzone. and it sucks. especially when the girl he’s in love with is dating his best friend. smack dab in the middle of a bad situation peter struggles to keep his feelings at bay when the girl of his dreams comes to him for advice about her failing relationship.

warnings: i guess post!nwh, swearing, cheating, peter pining for reader, everyone being a bad guy, smut 18+ (minors dni!!!), unprotected sex, creampie

word count: 4.1k

a/n: um my first peter fic! it’s based on the song conversation by joni mitchell. listen to it, or don’t, i’m not your mother. i said i was going to stop posting writing, but i have “i must create or i’ll go crazy” disease so... (i’m still not a writer)

main masterlist / ao3

She comes to him for conversation, for comfort, for consultation. But Peter wished she came to him for something else.

He remembers the first time he saw you. How he’d thought his heart had stopped for a second, forgetting how to do its most basic function. How could someone look so effortlessly beautiful? How could a voice sound so sweet while asking such a mundane question?

“Is this seat taken?”.

“N-n-no!” he’d manage to stutter out, his cheeks flushed red and completely taken aback by the fact that you were talking to him. You’d given him a playful smile before seating yourself next to him.

Did he believe in love at first sight? Yes, after seeing you for the first time, Peter started to think he did.

Meeting you in a chemistry class, Peter thought, must be the universe’s take on a bad joke, because… you two had chemistry. Everything just felt so easy when he hung out with you. His smile always wide, cheeks hurting. Conversation flowing freely, or engulfed in a silence, that was always comfortable. The only thing though, even though you two had chemistry, you weren’t any good at it. Actually, you were barely passing.

And that’s how your time began. Sharing sodas after class, in a rundown diner, over chemistry homework. You’d seen how Peter had gotten straight A’s on all his tests, and one day you’d carefully asked if he would be so kind as to help you. Those were the actual words you’d used. If Peter would be so kind. As if he wouldn’t have done anything you’d ask without a second thought. Okay, maybe not anything. He doesn’t think he’d murder someone if you asked… or maybe… if you were in danger and it was the only way–

“Peter!” you laughed, waving your hand in front of his face, “Are you even listening to me?”.

“Huh!?” he hummed, a familiar warmth spreading through his cheeks as your laugh rang through his ears.

“You zoned out a little,” you said, scrunching up your nose. Oh god he loved when you did that– you looked so cute.

“Oh! S-sorry” he stuttered out, still embarrassed that you’d caught him daydreaming, “What were you saying?”.

“Ehm… just forget it” you looked away, waving your hand, “It was just something Harry did again”.

His name coming from your mouth felt like a bucket of ice-cold water over Peter’s head. Harry Osborn, your boyfriend, and Peter’s roommate.

As much as Peter loved Harry, he didn’t treat you well. This was usually how your conversations during your study dates would go, once it was clear that after a few hours of studying, you were done with chemistry for the day.

You’d usually bring up small things that Harry had done that hurt you or annoyed you. And Peter would be tasked with giving you advice, or comfort, or consolation. You always apologized after, for bringing Harry up in conversation, but Peter always brushed it off telling you it was fine. But it wasn’t. It always reminded him about his own failures. How if he hadn’t been such a pussy at Betty’s party, all those months ago, and told you how he felt, this wouldn’t just be a study date, but a real date. The problem was just that Harry had beat him to it that night. In Harry’s defense, he didn’t know about Peter’s feelings about you. No one did.

You’d disappeared at some point in the night, and Peter figured you’d gone home. Turns out you did go home, but not to your own apartment, but to Peter’s and Harry’s instead. A fact Peter didn’t know until the morning after when he’d bumped into you in the kitchen, his heart dropping to his stomach at the sight of you in nothing but Harry’s shirt.

Peter’s dreams weren’t completely crushed at that moment. He still harbored hope for you. Harry was quite the whore (Harry’s own words by the way, not Peter’s), and this wasn’t the first time Peter ran into one of his hook-ups in the kitchen after a night out. In Peter’s mind this was only a one-night stand. But he couldn’t have been more wrong. Not soon after, you started showing up at the penthouse, not to hang out with Peter, but with Harry instead.

Peter tried his best to not be disappointed when you came over. But the tiny spark of hope he had about one day calling you his, soon fizzled out and died. Every time he saw you and Harry kissing, holding hands; he knew nothing would ever happen between the two of you.

Trying to forget you, he started busying himself with classes and patrol, seeing you less and less. He’d run into you sometimes when you were visiting Harry. Only a short “Hello” leaving Peter’s lips as he’d retire to his room before Harry could see how much Peter wanted you.

Back in his room, Peter would convince himself that you and Harry being together was the best thing for you. If you were with Peter, he’d only end up hurting you. You deserve the very best, and Peter knew he would never be good enough. He was a fucking mess most of the time. He was always late to things, never on time, he couldn’t afford to treat you to nice things like Harry did, and his double life could make you a target, which was the last thing he wanted.

Peter kept his distance the best he could, but as time went on it got harder and harder to convince himself that Harry treated you the way Peter thought you deserved. Peter knew Harry wasn’t being honest with you, and it killed him to keep his mouth shut. The bubbling anger simmering under the surface every time he’d see a girl who wasn’t you, slip out of Harry’s bedroom. Then like a curse, a few moments later, his enhanced hearing enabled him to eavesdrop on yours’ and Harry’s conversations on the phone. Harry would always apologize for being too busy to come over and hang out. And with the softest voice, you’d let Harry off the hook every time. Leaving the penthouse, to go on patrol after nights like that, Peter admitted, his punches hit a little harder.

Your relationship tasted especially bitter in Peter’s mouth whenever Harry would throw parties at the penthouse. A hand over your shoulder or around your waist, never leaving your side, showing you off like you were a prized possession and not a human being. Was this the final straw for Peter? Seeing yet another way Harry didn’t treat you as well as he should; that had made him not want to make up an excuse, like he normally would, when you’d ask him if he wanted to study at the diner.

Peter had kept his distance from you for the last six months. Tried to stay in his lane. To turn the other eye. To fold his feelings for you in on itself like a piece of paper so many times he hoped they’d disappear. But one look at you again, sitting across from him at your regular booth at the diner, and his origami-ed feelings had sprung up again like a blooming flower in spring.

“I just really wanted to see him, you know? I’ve been so stressed about this chemistry exam– that I know I’m gonna fail by the way, and work’s been kicking my ass– and I just wanted to hang out with my boyfriend… but he canceled on me three times this week”.

Or maybe the final straw, for Peter, was the way your whole body deflated in front of him. Peter could feel his heart break in real time watching you turn your head away, hiding the wobble of your bottom lip. And the worst part of it all was that Peter knew why Harry had canceled on you. He’d been over at someone else’s place. But Peter knew he couldn’t tell you that.

Carefully he reached out his hand, brushing it over the back of yours as you rested it on the table. “I’m sure Harry’s just been busy! I know he’s got his exams in a few weeks, and he hasn’t been home as much lately” Peter said, trying his best to make you feel better.

You watched your hands for a moment, how Peter brushed his hand over yours trying to sooth you the best he could. Then you turned your hand, wrapping it around his in a gentle hold. The soft touch of your warm hand, making Peter stop breathing for a second.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “you’re probably right, Peter”. You tried your best to smile, but Peter could see your sorrow written all over your face, breaking Peter’s heart even more.

“You’re a good friend Peter!” you started, “I’m so sorry for always talking about Harry, but it’s just that you know him so well, so it’s easier to talk about him with you– and you always manage to say the right thing to make me feel better” you looked down at your intertwining hands.

“It’s almost scary how easily you can make me feel better Peter– it’s like you have superpowers or something” you said, a chuckle escaping your lips.

“Oh, I didn’t tell you about my superpowers?” Peter quipped, trying his best to cheer you up even more. A smile spread across your face as you shook your head.

“My powers are actually being very good at chemistry– AND knowing how to make my friend who’s failing her chemistry class feel better”.

A giggle left your lips at Peter’s joke as you let out a sarcastic “haha, very funny”, playing along.

If only you knew though. How he wished that this mess could be fixed with his actual superpowers. How he wished he could just put on the suit and save you from Harry. How he wished he could free you.

Landing safely on the rooftop of Harry’s penthouse, Peter looked around for his backpack he’d hid with his clothes. He’d managed to hide his double life from Harry so far, and he planned on it staying that way, which meant changing in and out of his suit crouched behind a rooftop vent, every day.

He was back earlier than usual, cutting tonight’s patrol short as it had turned out to be a quiet night. He’d stopped a man stealing a lady’s purse, and after he’d helped a man, who he was 90% sure had dementia, find his way back to his apartment. After that he’d just swung around the city for a few hours. At sunset he’d found a good spot at the top of this new skyscraper they were building downtown. His feet dangled off the scaffolding as he watched the sky turn every shade of pink and orange, before the sun dipped below the horizon.

Back home, on the roof, Peter felt the soft touch of the spring night against his naked skin. He quickly changed out of his suit before stuffing it back into his backpack, swinging it over his shoulder before he headed towards the rooftop door. With a light bounce in his step, Peter made his way down the stairs, his head filled with thoughts about all the studying he needed to do before his exam next week. Slipping through the front door he’s so distracted by his own thoughts he almost doesn’t hear it. The sounds of muffled moans accompanied by Harry’s bedpost hitting the wall.

But he does hear it, and images of how sad you’d looked earlier at the diner start flickering through Peter’s head. Before any rational thoughts can stop him, he’s fished his phone from the back pocket of his jeans. He’s had enough. His fingers work on their own accord, pulling up your contact.

Peter hi, um are you at the penthouse right now?

He knew you weren’t, but he figured this was the best way to bring it up. Taking long strides across the floor, he made his way towards his bedroom door. Why did he suddenly feel like he needed to hide?

He passed through his bedroom door while he slipped his backpack off his shoulder. Not even ten seconds later his phone buzzed in his hands with your reply. He sat down quickly on his bed, one leg bouncing in an anxious rhythm, as he read your reply.

You no? i’m at home why?

Peter i think you should come over there’s a girl with harry in his room

Did this make him a bad person Peter asked himself as he watched the three dotted bubble appear and then disappear. Was this just him acting out of his own selfishness? Letting the devil on his shoulder whisper in his ear and guide his hand? Or did it make him a hero? Saving you from a toxic relationship?

You i’m coming over.

The sound of your footsteps echoed down the streets, mixing with Peter’s calls of your name as he practically jogged behind you trying to catch up to you.

“Peter” you sighed, “just please go back home”.

“No!” he finally caught up to you, grabbing a hold of your wrist, pulling it a little, making you slow down.

“I don’t think you should be alone right now”.

Your face was blank, the only sign of any emotion coming from your restless eyes dancing across his face. He couldn’t decipher what you were thinking. You were angry of course. You were furious only minutes ago when you stormed out the door with both Harry and Peter at your heel.

Harry had spoken his sorry sentences. Telling you it wasn’t what it looked like. Begging for your forgiveness. But he was only kidding himself trying to convince you it wasn’t what it looked like, that he hadn’t cheated on you, when you’d literally caught him with his dick inside another woman.

Harry stayed behind in the lobby, probably thinking it wasn’t worth it to go after you into the spring night, in only his robe. Just as Peter were about to rush after you Harry spoke up,

“If you go after her you’re dead to me!”.

The venomous bite to Harry’s tone stopped Peter dead in his tracks.

“I know you fucking told her” Harry accused, “If you go after her I’m kicking you out– I NEVER want to see you again”.

But standing here, out on the streets of New York at midnight, holding your hand Peter knew he’d made the right decision.

“Ok” you said it so softly Peter didn't think he’d even hear it if his hearing wasn’t enhanced.

“Ok” he repeated.

You pulled your hand away, a knife twisting in Peter’s heart, and started walking. You didn’t say a single word on the way back to your apartment. Peter imagined you were hurt, but you weren’t crying, and Peter didn’t know if that scared him or comforted him.

Safely back inside your apartment you didn’t even acknowledge his presence as you threw your jacket off by the door. Then you walked down the hallway, taking a right at the end, to where he assumed your living room must be. Peter had never actually been in your apartment before.

He followed you down the hallway, after neatly hanging both his and your jacket on your coat rack. He found you on the floor by your couch, your back resting against the front, holding your knees to your chest, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, as soft sobs escaped you.

“I’m sorry you had to find out like that” Peter apologized, sitting down next to you on your carpet. A feeling like his only purpose in life was to comfort you, overcame him. So, he wrapped a hand around your shoulders, pulling you against his chest. You leaned in closer to his body, your hands shifting from hugging yourself, to hugging Peter tightly.

“No, this was exactly how I needed to find out” you sobbed, “I needed to see it with my own eyes, or I wouldn’t have believed it”.

Peter let you cry until there weren't any tears left to cry, cooing you and whispering all the most reassuring words he could muster up past midnight.

“I don’t know why it hurts so bad… I think deep down I always knew he wasn’t being honest with me– he always kept me guessing” you said. No, Peter thought, he kept you down.

Before Peter could say anything, you lifted your head from his chest, a big wet spot on his t-shirt left in your wake. You looked him right in the eye, and Peter could feel a budding warmth of red covering the apples of his cheeks.

“Please Peter” you pleaded, moving your face closer, the closest it’s ever been to his. Your right hand traveled to cup his hot cheeks, pulling him even closer to your face. So close he felt your breath tickle his skin while you spoke,

“You always make me feel better– it’s your superpower, remember? Please make me feel better”.

Closing his eyes, Peter knew he couldn’t deny you, his heart screamed out for you. This was everything he wanted, was it not? With a shuddering breath and a heart beating out of his chest, he closed the space between you, brushing his lips over yours.

Your other hand cupped his other cheek, pulling him even closer to your body, letting out a small whimper as you kissed him back. Peter felt like his head was spinning. He didn’t know where he ended, and you began.

Then it all became a bit of a blur. His hands found your waist as you climbed onto his lap, brushing your tongue over his bottom lip, deepening the kiss. Your hand left his cheek to toy with his hair, and Peter just about moaned into your mouth. He needed more of you, and with the way you were grinding down on his growing bulge, he knew you did too.

Warmth flooded his body wherever you touched him, and he didn’t think he could ever get enough of you. When your hand left his hair, he just about sighed with disappointment, until he realized how you toyed with the hem of his t-shirt. Raising his hands, he helped you pull it off him. Absentmindedly, you threw it away, before your eyes fell to his chest, quickly scanning over his muscles before they traveled up to his face, where they looked into his soul. Half a second later you pulled him in for another heated kiss.

His hands fell to your ass, helping you grind down on him. Fuck, he was properly hard now, his cock straining against his jeans. With every brush of your core against his cock you whimpered into his mouth, making Peter almost feel lightheaded. You were so pretty. Your lips tasted like raspberries, and under his hands your skin was softer than velvet.

“Take off your pants please” you pleaded against his skin as you started pressing soft kisses down along his jaw and neck.

His hands raced to unbutton his jeans. You pulled away from his neck, staggering to your feet on wobbly legs, making a whine leaving Peter’s lips. Over him you started pulling on your pants, dragging them down your legs along with your panties in one go. Mesmerized by your silhouette, Peter almost forgot what he was doing. You quickly sat down beside him, fingers coming up to hook around the waistband of Peter’s jeans. Then you started pulling them down to his mid-thigh along with his boxers. Peter almost forgot to breathe as you freed his aching cock.

When you climbed onto his lap, Peter’s brain started working again. His hands fell to your ass, steadying you as you got comfortable on his lap.

“D-did you want me to…” Peter trailed off, not knowing how to say what he wanted to say. Instead, he showed you. His right hand rubber over your ass and hip before his fingers brushed over your clit. You mewled at the contact, your eyes closing before you shook your head.

“No, no I just want you– I need you, Peter”.

Fuck, Peter thought. He’d dreamt of hearing you tell him you wanted him, for months. And now it wasn’t a dream anymore.

“O-okay” he stuttered, reaching a hand between your bodies, grabbing at his shaft in a rough hold. With his other hand he helped guide your hips to hover over his tip, sliding it back and forth over your slit, and lining it up with your opening. He could feel how wet and desperate you were, coating his cock in your arousal.

With a hand resting on his shoulder, you slowly sat down on his cock. First slipping the tip in, before your walls swallowed the rest of him, taking him fully inside. A choked moan fell from Peter’s lips as he savored the feeling of your velvet pulsing walls around him. Rocking your hips back and forth, your puffy clit rubbing up against his pelvis, as your mouth fell open in a silent gasp, gaping around words you couldn’t get out.

“Shit” you panted, “You’re so deep”.

“Yeah” Peter breathed out, head falling back against the couch, “You feel me in your tummy?”.

“Fuck,” you lifted your hips, slowly starting to move, “y-yes, I d-do”.

Looking up at you, as you moved over him, Peter thought you looked like an angel. The way your ceiling light lit up the back of your head, Peter was sure you were wearing a halo.

Your rhythm increased and soon you were bouncing in his lap. Your breathy moans falling from your lips, the wet noises coming from where you were connected, and the way you were starting to clench around him, were making the tension in Peter’s stomach grow. Knitting his eyebrows together, Peter didn’t know how much longer he was going to last.

Scared he’d finish before you, his fingers found your clit, pressing down in tight circles. Under the touch of his fingers you almost jumped, while a shuddering breath left your lips. Then Peter felt himself start to get desperate, meeting your bounces with a thrusting of his hip, pushing his throbbing cock even further inside you.

Every brush of his fingers over your clit, coincided with a thrust of his hips, and soon he felt your wall flutter around him. He could feel how your wetness ran down his shaft and down his balls, and he knew you were as close to the edge of ecstasy as he was. His fingers never let up on your clit, and soon you clenched around him so hard he couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“Fuck,” Peter spat, “I’m gonna cum”.

“I–Inside” you moaned, “You can come inside– it’s okay”.

Your words pushed him over the edge, making him come hard inside you with a grunt. He didn’t slow down his fingers on your clit, and the feeling of him filling you up and the brush of his fingers, must’ve pushed you over the edge. Half a second later your hips stilled as Peter felt the frantic pulses of your orgasm milking his cock.

The feeling of you riding out your orgasm on his sensitive cock, clenching down on him as your body shook with aftershocks, it was almost too much, too intense for Peter. His breath came out in hard pants, and his body felt hot to the touch.

Peter didn’t know how much time passed as you both came down from your highs. It could have been three seconds or three hours. All Peter knew was that with you, he lost all sense of time. But this moment of bliss must come to an end. Everything is temporary, and someone must be the first to pull away.

On wobbling legs, you slid off his lap, sitting down next to him on the floor. You leaned back, grabbing your panties off the couch. Peter averted his eyes. The act was somehow too intimate to watch, even after what you two had just done. Instead, he busied himself with pulling his pants back over his ass, and tucking himself away, as a silence fell over the both of you. It felt heavy, loaded with questions he didn’t know if he wanted an answer too. After a few minutes a whisper left Peter’s lips, breaking the silence,

“I think I might be homeless”.

You didn’t answer right away, but Peter could hear your breathing change multiple times, like you were going to say something,

“I’m sorry”.

tagging some mutuals (this is so embarrassing): @hollandweather​, @luciwritesstuff​, @userholland​, @t-lostinworlds​, @silkscream​, @sparklingsin​, @logangarfield​, @justapurrcat​, @tomdutch​, @devotion​, @lnmp89​, @mayal0pez​, @melodicheauxxo-writes​,

...

© shellshocklove, 2023

[notsoattractivearenti]

Surprise x2 (Christian Pulisic x Reader)

Word Count: 1.5K

Warnings: few cursing words; mentions of pregnancy; possibly can cause baby fever lol. nothing else but fluff fluff fluff! 🥰

A/N: This was supposed to be the first fic I posted, but I just finished it after 2 weeks! Heavily inspired by the video above lol (not the gender reveal, but Christian's reaction). Written especially for dad!Puli nation 🥰🫶 Feedbacks would be appreciated!

---

“Shit, it’s 6 fucking AM!” you quietly said to yourself as you just woke up and already feeling extremely nauseous. You got up and rushed to the bathroom because you felt like you were so close on throwing up on the bed. Your husband, Christian woke up to the sound of you throwing up, which was pretty loud. He immediately got off the bed, grabbed some tissues and a glass of water from the bedside table, and went to the bathroom.

You were sitting on the floor, facing down the toilet, and you heard him coming over. You were looking up at his tired-yet-worried face as he said “Y/N love are you okay? Do you want me to get any meds or anything else? I also got you water in case you need it.” You were feeling too weak to say anything so you just nodded, then threw up again. He was there the whole time holding your hair up, caressing your back, and even said “sorry baby” multiple times. You were feeling extremely sick and so worried, so his presence made you felt a lot better. 

“Okay, I’m done,” you said as you wiped your mouth with a tissue, “everything inside my stomach is pretty much gone now, ugh.” He helped you stood up, you flushed the toilet and he asked, “what happened?” 

“I have no idea. Just got nausea out of nowhere.” He then nervously said something that made your heart skipped a beat: “Y/N, I don’t know but um, do you think uh, it’s possible that… You’re pregnant again?” 

You suddenly remembered that you did go through the same thing before finding out you were pregnant with Maxine, your firstborn. You froze for a second then responded, “Fuck. Chris, I need to get a pregnancy test like right now.” 

“I’ll get them for you, come on.” You both went back to your bedroom, then Christian grabbed his jacket and car keys, and kissed your forehead before he left. You had mixed feelings about the possibility of being pregnant again but you started questioning yourself: are you ready for another child? You are a great mom to Max and you love her very much, but going through pregnancy and taking care of a baby were no joke. You felt like you needed more time to do it all over again, but now it seemed like you weren’t given enough time. You and Christian just started talking about trying for baby number 2 — now that Maxine is already 2 years old — but somehow you might have ended up conceiving before you two were even actively trying.

While you waited for Christian, you went to Max’s room to wake her up. You opened the door and saw your beautiful daughter who was still asleep while cuddling her beloved stuffed penguin Christian got her after she was born, which she named Fuzzy Penny. You sat on her bed, and shortly before you woke her up you looked at her and thought how lucky you are to have her in your life. 

Max was a surprise baby, since you and Christian didn’t plan on having a child before you two got married yet you got pregnant with her 3 months after you got engaged. You remembered how scared you were, because you didn’t think you were ready even though you wanted to keep your baby, and Christian convinced you that everything was going to be alright. You’re so glad that he was right, because you couldn’t and don’t want to imagine your life without Max. Even though it’s not always sunshine and rainbows, she without a doubt has made your life so much better than you thought it could ever be. It felt like you just gave birth to her yesterday and now she is probably going to be a big sister.

“Good morning my little angel,” you whispered to her little ear as you gently kissed her head and caressed her arm, “time to rise and shine!” She slowly opened her eyes, looked up to you, then gave you a big, bright smile and softly said “Mommy!” Her little voice has never failed to make you smile. You were filled with worries before and thanks to Max, now you felt at peace. “How was your sleep? Was it good?” Max nodded her head while smiling, then grabbed her shoulder-length wavy hair and said to you “messy hair mommy.” “You have the cutest messy hair honey,” you laughed, then you picked her up “let’s get you out of this bed, and come find Daddy!”

Christian had just come back and as he entered the living room, Max spotted him and shouting “DADDY!!!” His eyes widened when he saw her, “Oh hey look who’s awake! Good morning my princess!”

He bent down to pick her up, wrapping her around his arms. She rested her head on Christian’s shoulder, had her arms around his neck, and Christian gave her kisses on the top of her head – he knows she loves it when he does that, and of course he loves doing it too. 

You couldn’t help but smile, thinking how beautiful that moment was even though you have seen it many, many times. You felt like there were millions of butterflies in your stomach, so in love with the man who is not just the best husband, but also the best father in the whole wide world. 

You were so caught up in the moment you forgot that you needed to take pregnancy test, but then Christian reminded you as he handed the bag over. “Honey, I wasn’t sure how many tests you may need but I got like 4 or 5 in there. I’ve checked all expiration dates so you’re good.” 

“Woah, thank you,” as you took the bag, “I’ll take them all right now.” He smiled, nodded and mouthed “I got you”. 

You went to the bathroom to took all the test. “Okay,” you sighed, “let’s get this over with.” You waited anxiously until you got the results. You heard the timer sound on your phone, meaning 2 minutes had passed. You closed your eyes and took 3 deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down before you saw the results. 

Two red lines. “Pregnant”. You couldn’t believe what you saw. You gasped, and stood still for a minute, trying to process everything. You’d gone through this before, but it still caught you off guard somehow. You were nervous, but now you have positive results, you didn’t feel that way anymore. You’re going to have another child, and you felt good about it. Even though you weren’t sure you were ready, at least you knew you can count on your loving husband for everything, especially much-needed support.

Now that you’d spent some time in the bathroom, you finally felt ready to tell your husband he's going to be a dad for the second time. As you walked to the kitchen, you heard Max and Christian laughing. You then took a peek to see what it was all about, and you saw they were cooking breakfast. He was making Max’s favorite breakfast: pancakes with berries and chocolate sauce – he couldn’t cook before, but the day you two found out you were pregnant with Max he started learning how to cook because he wanted to be able to make homemade meals for his family. You saw they were having so much fun cooking those pancakes. When he was cooking, he held Max on his hip, while flipping the pancakes with his other hand. The kitchen was messy, and they were covered in flour – you could tell they were having a lot of fun while making the batter. He shook the pan for a bit, lifted it, then flipped over the pancake. In awe, Max laughed, clapped her hands in excitement and told him “good job Daddy!”

You didn’t want to interrupt their moment, so you just stood where you are until they noticed you. “Oh hey, there’s Mommy! Come here, we made pancakes!” As you approached them, Christian set up the table with Max’s help – she was still attached to his hip, of course ­– then sat her down on the chair.

“Wow, these pancakes look so good! You two made the best pancakes in the world!” you complimented them. Max gave you a big smile then looked to her dad “Daddy did good.” Christian was blushing, kissed her cheek and said to her “I did good because I have the cutest little helper.” 

Before he sat down, you softly grabbed his arm, and you whispered, “Honey, seems like we got another surprise...” You saw his eyes lit up as you said those words. He looked at you as he responded, “Oh my God, Y/N, you’re really pregnant???” You grinned and nodded. 

He gave you the biggest hug and was smiling ear to ear. He’s always loved being a father, and now he’s going to be a father of two. You could feel his overwhelming joy, which brought you back to the day you found out the first time. Still hugging you, he told you “I love you so much, Y/N! Thank you for giving me two best surprises!” 

Before he released the hug he kissed you on the lips, then came towards Max, hugged her and told her in his excited, high-pitched voice, “Max! You’re gonna be a big sister!”

taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @masonspulisic @swimmingismywholelife @chelseagirl98 @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14

[mingigoo]

Midnight Kisses || j.wy || (m.) || Part Two

Part Two ⇢ touch me

🍓 pairing ⇢ best friend! Wooyoung x single parent! (fem) reader x new flame! San

↳ you continue your efforts to date San, enjoying your time with him as Wooyoung takes care of your daughter. It’s confusingly unsettling to see you with someone else, and wooyoung decides to test the waters with you after he has to leave his apartment because of a gas leak. If he can’t have you, then no one can have you.

🍓genre ⇢ single parent au, bakery au, best friends to lovers, smut, fluff, slight angst

🍓 warnings/tags ⇢ this story is 18+, minors dni, talk of death (I’m sorry seonghwa ) relationship trauma, parenting, unrequited love but not at the same time, pining, single parent, loss, learning to love again, wooyoung is a total sass queen, wooyoung as a babysitter/wannabe father, San is a gentleman

🍓word count ⇢ 6.1k

🍓 taglist ⇢ @atinywhore @ch0isa99ie @jjhmk @yukine-smx @roe-sinning @meowmeowminnie @yeritheloml l @y00nzin0 @yesv01 @wubbster @spiderrenjunfics @8tinytings @halesandy @shegotboreddsoo @kangyeosangelic @sanshineeeeee @kodzukein @baguette-atiny @gayliljoong @seokwoosmole @nyeatinyjunkie @mdibby @miriamxsworld (if I missed you please lmk!!)

Midnight kisses masterlist

The day Seonghwa passed away was the day you finally felt all your walls tumble down. The same walls you spent so much time trying to build up. He was your person—your everything. The one who made you feel like you were worth more than anything in the world. All you needed was a smile, and all your worries were gone.

You never thought much into the idea of death; it always scared you. Well, not your own, but when it was someone you loved, it scared you so much that you would ignore it as if it weren't a looming presence over your head. Sometimes you wished to be able to see other’s death dates, and keep them in mind just like a birthday. 

Seonghwa left the world on the fourth day of the week on the three-hundred and twentieth day of the year. You had a thing for remembering the exact times of things—it made you feel like you were caring about things as much as they should be cared about.

It was a car accident. On a normal day. He was just supposed to be driving home to you, his pregnant girlfriend, to see you just like every other day. You were up waiting for him, sitting by the fireplace he decorated himself—the picture frames he put up still remained to this day, dust collecting on the tops of the frames like they were there for ages.

When you found out he was being rushed to the hospital, you called the only person who you knew would take care of you.

Wooyoung.

Being six months pregnant was enough stress, but when you got the news of his accident, you could have sworn you saw death itself for a moment.

Wooyoung rushed to you, tears in his eyes and his cheeks red from the cold. He burst through your door as if it was in his way to get to you. You were on the ground, on your knees. No tears fell, you were a bit too numb to believe everything. 

He knelt down next to you. He didn't try to move you. He didn't say anything—he just held you.

And that’s when you cried. 

He took you to see him, but you knew the end. Seonghwa’s mother was already there when you arrived, disheveled and in tears. She hugged you, well, at least you think she did. The whole memory was foggy, as if you wanted it gone but yet wanted it to stay. 

He was hard to look at. It was as if he wasn't the man you fell in love with. You had to check him, searching his body to find every detail of his. You prayed to find something that didn't pertain to him—it wasn't real. 

You knew it was him. You knew he was fading out. You knew your time with him was gone, and it was only a matter of minutes.

You're never prepared for death. No matter how much you might tell yourself you could understand it, once it happens, it’s as if you lost yourself along with them. He was the only light in your life, and when the beeps turned into silence, wooyoung pulled you into his arms and turned you around, holding back his tears for the sake of your pain.

That same night you went home, cradling his necklace and ring in the palm of your hand. The tears were stained on your cheeks—you weren't sure if they would ever leave. 

Wooyoung couldn't stop looking at you as he drove you to his place. He felt immense pain for you and your baby. He vowed, at that moment, to always make sure you were taken care of, even if he was a pain in the ass sometimes. At least he would be by your side so you were never alone.

And as the tires ran over the spiritless leaves, you wondered about where your love was. If there was a heaven, he’d be there. If there wasn't, well, you hoped he was with you in some way.

His necklace still draped your neck to this day, his grip on you was now just a safety blanket to protect your heart from breaking again.

—

“San is coming here?” wooyoung sighed, looking at you as he held onto a sleeping toddler. He swayed a bit as he spoke. “So last night went well, I guess?”

You slowly piped some frosting on top of a strawberry cupcake—your bestseller. You had a habit of hyper fixating on things, so you barely heard wooyoung’s disdain in his tone. 

“Yeah, it was nice. He’s a real sweetheart,” you smiled to yourself, thinking back on the kiss you shared. “It ended abruptly when someone interrupted us.”

“Ah.” he nodded, still swaying from side to side as Nabi drooled on his shoulder. He stared you down as you carefully made the cupcakes look just as beautiful as you. He thought about how pretty you looked with the frosting stained on your cheeks. “I see. So…am I watching Nabi again?”

You sighed, feeling a bit guilty for making him watch her. You knew he didn't have an issue with it when the time came, but you wondered about what if he had things to do. You set down the piping bag onto the counter.

“Do you have plans today? I don't want you thinking i’m just dropping her on you all the time,” you bit your tongue slightly. 

Wooyoung adjusted Nabi, offering you a smile at the same time. “No, I’m not doing anything today. Other than going to Yeo’s for some dinner later.”

“Still,” you sighed, noticing that his hip seemed to be getting tired of holding her. “If you could just watch her for a few hours that would be great. I wont bug you for a while then.”

He smirked. “I never want you to stop bugging me. It’s the only thing keeping me grounded,” he teased, a smile resting on his beautiful face as he looked down at your daughter.

You walked over to him, close but not close enough. 

“Here, gimme her and take a break.” you said to him, your hands out for him to give you Nabi. 

She was getting heavier day by day, growing up as fast as a lightning bolt. It was weird to think about—seonghwa’s been gone so long it was hard to remember his voice. The only thing you had was Nabi, who constantly gave you a memory of him.

He slowly lifted Nabi up out of his hold, and set her in your arms. His fingers brushed against yours, causing him to stutter. “I-i’m sorry about yesterday…” he trailed off, unable to meet your gaze. “I didn't mean to scare you.”

You furrowed your brows, fixing the stray hairs on Nabi’s forehead. “About that, why did you do it? I’m not upset, just confused. I know you're a little shit, but that was just weird.”

He still couldn't meet your eyes. He stared down at the ground, deep in thought as if he couldn't understand his own actions. “To be totally honest, I don't know why I did that…” he sighed, looking up to now lean against the counter. “I really don't know.”

“It’s alright, woo,” you nodded, looking over at him. He was just staring at you now, looking as if he were lost in your eyes. “Anyway, San will be here around four. Could you please be friendly to him? That's all I ask.” you spoke softly, expecting him to be snarky. What you didn't expect was him to nod in agreement and remain silent.

“Wooyoung, are you alright? You seem off today…” you asked him, taking a step closer. “You're not putting up a fight?”

He scoffed at that, trying his best to seem normal when, in fact, he felt very different. “Pfft. I'm fine. Perfectly fine,” he smiled at you, but it didn't reach his usual expressive eyes. “I’ll take her with me to yeo’s. He loves it when she dances around the apartment.”

You smiled at your best friend. He could have easily said he had something to do today, given how he acted yesterday. You were really worried if he hit his head or something. 

“Are you sure you're alright?” you narrowed your eyes, staring him down. 

He looked around, anywhere but your eyes. “Of course I am.”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, clicking your tongue. “Sure. Please tell me if you're planning on getting laid tonight or drinking. If you are, don't worry about watching Nabi—”

Woo laughed at that, but still, you knew something was off with them. If he wanted to, he would tell you. So you just let him go.

“Don’t worry, cupcake. No one’s getting a slice of this fine ass tonight—“

There's the usual nonsense. “Okay ew. Anyway, I expect some pictures of her dancing.” You smiled, thinking back on the first time you met Yeosang—or yeo, for short. 

He was the quiet boy in your class who always sat behind you. He kept to himself most days, but oh, did he have just as much sass as wooyoung. He was more careful about it, but you knew those two would get along perfectly. It’s funny now that they’re still friends, it makes you happy to send off your daughter to a group of goofballs.

—

Time came and went. The doors chimed right at 4 o’clock sharp, and in walked a handsome man you couldn't help but stare at.

Wooyoung didn't seem nearly as enamored as you.

“Y/n,” San hummed, coming in with a small bouquet of daisies and a smile. Wooyoung was sitting in one of the window seats playing go-fish with Nabi. She wasn't good at it, but loved to call out go fish like the cutie she is.

Wooyoung’s eyes followed your date as he walked in like a million bucks. All that kept circulating in his head was that you liked tulips better.

“San, It's nice to see you again.” You smiled back at him, thanking the lord you closed a bit early to clean up your appearance. You gave wooyoung a side-eye, nodding towards the door for him to leave. He ended up sighing, and then got up reluctantly.

“Come on, honey. Let's go to Uncle Yeo’s.”

“Yay! Is mommy coming?”

Woo looked over at you. You were too entranced in San to even notice his stare. He sighed, and gathered the go-fish cards on the table. “No, baby. Maybe next time. It's just you and me.” he gave her a wink as he cleaned up the table. 

“Bye, sweetheart,” he said to you, unable to meet you or San in the eye. “I’ll be back with the butterfly when you're ready.”

You looked over at him despite how ethereal San was looking in front of you. You noticed the slight look of tension in his eyes, but you couldn't pinpoint it. “Just take her home when you're done. I’ll be home at a decent time.”

San watched your banter with a small frown. You both seemed so…domestic, for lack of better word. It was as if you were a couple raising Nabi, and that there was no place for him in this scene.

“Okay, I’ll see you at home,” he waved as he held onto Nabi’s tiny hand.

The door shut softly as the bells chimed, leaving you alone with San and a heavy feeling in your heart.

San leaned up against the counter, a shy smile on his pretty face. “It seems like Nabi loves wooyoung, huh?”

You shook away your worrisome thoughts and smiled back at the man that seemed to care deeply for you already. “Oh, yeah. They're like the same person. It's kind of scary.”

San looked over his shoulder towards the door that wooyoung just walked out of. The room was quiet—the only sound being the faint hum of the refrigerator. 

“Oh,” he said quickly, turning back to you to hand you the flowers in his hands. “These are for you. I wasn't sure what your favorite flower was, so I picked these because they reminded me of you.”

The eye-catching daisies complimented his elegant appearance. It was as if he was straight out of a story—like a runaway prince. You took the flowers from his hands, brushing your fingers against his.

“Thank you, San,” you hummed, leaning down to smell the floral scent. “They're beautiful.”

“Like you,” he scrunched his nose up, shaking his head. “Ah, no. That was cheesy.”

You blushed at his comment. It was sweet, even if it was a little cheesy. “So, what do you want to do?”

He looked around the bakery and then at you, noticing a bit of flour on your cheek. He leaned in to brush his hand against your skin, close enough for you to remember how his lips felt against yours. “You have a little something here. Ah, got it.”

You blushed even more.

What, were you a teenager or something?

“Thank you,” you cleared your throat, unable to meet his intense stare. “Um, so, do you want to go somewhere or….”

San chuckled at your reaction to him. He brushed your hair behind your ear softly, afraid to pull your hair by accident. “I thought you were gonna bake me a cake…” he trailed off, that gorgeous smile still on his face.

“I almost forgot!” you beamed, looking down at yourself. You did clean up, but what would it matter if you got some more flour on you? Maybe he would clean you up—

“I think I’m in the mood for some chocolate cake,” he pondered playfully, unable to lose his gaze from you. “If you could teach me how to make it.”

You smiled at him, butterflies in your stomach. 

“Oh, I can do more than just teach you.”

—

“She’s dating again?” yeosang gasped, nearly dropping his drink. “Are you serious? And it’s not you?”

Wooyoung scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why would I date her? She's like a sister to me.”

Yeosang smirked, and took a sip from his cup. “Whatever you say, Woo. Whatever you say.”

Wooyoung stood in Yeosang’s kitchen, all pissy and slightly tipsy. Nabi was sitting on the floor of his living room, staring up at the tv. He had put on her favorite cartoons while he and Yeo had a conversation—one that he didn't understand why he needed to talk about it.

“I don't like the guy. He’s…he’s too nice,” Woo growled, watching his older friend roll his eyes . “Hey, why’d you do that?”

“Do what?”

“You know, the eye thingy. You just rolled them at me.”

“Pfft. No I didn't.” 

Wooyoung sighed. “I’m just saying—”

“Listen, dude,” Yeosang let out a sigh too, setting down his drink to fully focus on his oblivious friend. “I think you just dislike the idea she’s with someone else.”

“Oh, come on,” Wooyoung sneered annoyingly. “I could care less. I just want someone that will be good to her—”

“Someone like you.”

“Yeah, exactly—wait no,” woo paused, running a hand through his hair aggressively. “Fuck, not me. That’s not what I meant. All I’m saying is that I take care of her and Nabi like they're my own. I want them to be my own, but—”

“Wooyoung,” Yeosang smiled sadly, tilting his head at the younger boy. “You just said it for yourself. You want them to be yours.”

“Y-yeah, but not in that way,” he stuttered, looking down at the granite counter. 

“Okay,” yeo nodded, picking back up his mug to walk into the living room where Nabi was. “Anyway, I’m gonna go sit with the butterfly while you sort out your…complicated feelings.”

Wooyoung furrowed his eyebrows, his heart tightening by the thought of you being kissed by San. or anyone, in general. 

“There's nothing complicated about them.” Woo muttered under his breath, only for him to hear. He felt a twinge in his heart as he said the painful lie, but didn't quite understand how he truly felt. He knew deep down what was holding him back. He just didn't want to admit it.

Wooyoung followed his best friend into the living room where Nabi was staring up at yeosang. He held the remote in his hands, a huge grin on his face as he looked at the little girl. “Wanna dance?” He asked her, offering a hand out. Wooyoung watched with his arms crossed, a smile resting on his lips.

“Yes!” Nabi giggled, pushing herself up from the ground as Yeo put on some of her favorite k-pop songs. Sound filled the room as smiles reached everyone’s eyes, and all wooyoung could think about was how beautiful nabi was.

 She was just like you—shining bright, a heart of gold. She had your face, your details. She was so important to Wooyoung, so important that it scared him. He hasn't gone out in ages. He hasn't let himself away from your life and your kid as if it were tied to him. 

Wooyoung took his phone out of his pocket to record Nabi’s happiness, letting out laughs as she jumped around the room. He sent it to you, then, knowing you weren't going to see it right then and there. 

He sent a text underneath the video.

Look at our Nabi.

—

“You look cute with chocolate on your nose.”

You teased San as you plopped some chocolate icing onto his cute nose. He scrunched it up slightly, his eyes crossing to get a good look at it. 

Awe, that was even cuter. “I’ll get it for you,” you giggled, leaning up to lick off the icing without a second thought. Your heart began to pound, his eyes uncrossed now and staring at you intently. 

“T-thanks,” he hummed, looking down at you as if you were just as tasty as the chocolate cake. You had just finished icing it, and all it needed was some decorations. You weren't too sure if you were going to get to that part.

His arm snaked around your waist, his fingertips meeting your sides. His breathing quickened, and yours did too. It honestly felt like you didn't know how to inhale oxygen.

“Are you gonna kiss me?” you asked him, tilting your head up to meet him in the eye.

He chuckled at that, his hands tightening on your waist. “If it’s okay.”

“Mhm. it’s perfectly fine with me,” you whispered as his lips approached yours. “Very fine with me.”

The minute his gentle, soft lips enveloped yours, you saw wooyoung in your mind. Confused as ever, you furrowed your eyebrows as San deepened the kiss, trying your best to get his image out of your mind.

It was crazy. You imagined him every time you closed your eyes. He seemed so off today, you were too busy thinking about him over the man parting open your lips.

Wooyoung. Wooyoung. Wooyoung. woo—

San pulled back, his expression sensual, but his eyes seemed conflicted. “Are you okay?” he asked you, but he didn't pull back far enough. You masked your confusing thoughts with a flirty smile and leaned in for a kiss. 

“Yeah, of course I am,” you nodded, wrapping your arms around him. “Just obsessed with you, is’all.”

Wrong. You did find him attractive, but something was going off in your mind. For some reason, it didn't feel right. It felt like there was just something unbalanced—but that was nowhere near San’s fault. You just associated it with the fact you haven't dated since you met Seonghwa. On top of that, you suffered being a widow at the age you should be thinking of less complicated things. 

Yeah. That's right. It’s just the trauma talking.

Certainly has nothing to do with Wooyoung. Right? Right. 

Maybe. 

“Good, because I'm even more obsessed with you,” he breathed, his eyelashes fluttering seductively. You planned on having sex with him tonight. No doubts, no worries. You wanted to, but now, you had an uneasy feeling. It had nothing to do with him, it was your own issue. You wondered if you would ever get over it.

Did you have to get over this ache? It didn't exactly hurt. If you ever had a concussion, this is exactly how you would have thought it felt. The amount of confusion was unsettling—considering how ready you were to fuck this man just the day before.

San took you home, but not before you tried to hurry and close up shop. He followed you up the apartment building’s steps, both of you in too much of a hurry to wait for the elevator.

He kept his distance from you as you tried to unlock the door, his hands behind his back, but his eyes ravaged you like a vulture. You appreciated his respect, and you noticed a bit of hesitation behind those pretty eyes of his.

You made your way into the apartment, mind spinning as you flicked on the lights. A few of Nabi’s toys were scattered around the floor, and you shyly pulled away from San to pick them up and toss them into her toy bin. “Ah, I’m sorry, It’s a little messy.”

San shrugged, tilting his head at you. “You can't expect it to be sparkling when you have such big responsibilities,” he smiled, leaning against the wall next to the door. He watched you silently as you threw stuff to make it look cleaner. “Don't worry about it, your place is perfect.”

His pretty eyes wandered to the fireplace in the corner of the living room. A picture frame of you and Seonghwa sat on the mantle, causing San to let out a sigh. You followed his line of vision and awkwardly rubbed your arm. 

“That…he was my boyfriend. Nabi’s Dad.” you clarified, walking closer to San. He nodded, his eyes softening as you came up to him. His hands slid down your arms, his lips tight and his eyes kind.

You interrupted the awkward conversation with a quick kiss to his lips. San kissed back, but pulled away for a second.

“If this is…too soon for you, I—” he looked down. “I’ll wait. I’ll wait for you to be ready. Please don't think we need to rush into sex and everything else.”

Your eyes widened at the sweetness of his words. Of his touch. He seemed to care for you despite just meeting you. A guy like him was rare, and you were lucky to experience someone just as kind.

You paused, very aware of his cautious hand placement on your arms.

 “It's not that I don't want to, because I do. I really do,” you sighed, looking up into his dark eyes. “I really want to be ready. I want to stop moping around and live the way he wanted me to live but,” you stopped, afraid of becoming too vulnerable with him. It wasn't fair to him to deal with your baggage.

You couldn't say that it was hard to move on. Sure, you have had your time for yourself, kept the bakery up since He would've loved it. You got out of your comfort zone, opened up to others. And now, here you were, with another man as one of his wishes was for you to always find love even if it wasn't him. 

He would tell you over and over again, which made you feel like he knew what would happen to him. You knew that wasn't true, but his goal for you was happiness. And you were going to find it. You were going to make him proud. 

San caught on to your silence. “Okay, I’ll wait,” He smiled, rubbing his fingers into your skin. “Whenever you’re ready for the next step, I’ll be there.”

You let out a soft sigh of relief. Relief for the fact that he still wanted to try this with you despite your mess of a life. 

You stood in silence for a little while, debating on what to do now.

“So, uh. Do you want to watch a movie with me?”

—

Wooyoung was on his way back from a good time at Yeosang’s, pulling into your apartment Complex’s parking garage. He turned the car off the minute he parked it and looked back to see Nabi sleeping in her car seat. He made sure he had one in his car at all times since she was with him all the time. 

He hoped things wouldnt  change too much when his workload gets a bit heavier. Wooyoung started college a bit late, jumping into online classes instead of in person since the timing was wrong. The moment he decided to go to school, he didn't have the heart to tell you. It was the same time as seonghwa’s passing, feeling that if woo left you to go to school, you would've been alone with a newborn and no help.

So he gave it all up. It didn't change anything—he would do anything for you.

Wooyoung got out of the car and opened the back door, unclipping Nabi’s seatbelt. 

“Come here, pretty girl,” he cooed, lifting her out of the seat with a groan. Gosh you're getting big.”

Nabi was still sound asleep as he held her to him, positioning her on his hip as he shut the door. He didn't know if you were home yet, but it was past ten at night—way past Nabi’s bedtime. He didn't want to keep her out too long, afraid that she wouldn't be comfortable.

He trudged into the building, getting into the elevator while Nabi slept comfortably on his side. Once it reached your floor, Woo debated on knocking or not. Deciding on the latter, he turned the knob to enter the home, lights off and shoes that weren't his sat on the floor. 

Welp. 

Nabi let out a tired yawn. “Just wait, baby. I’ll get you to bed.” Woo whispered, peeking around into the living room to see you tangled in San’s hold, a blanket covering the both of you. You were sleeping, but San was awake as he held you to his body.

“Uh,” Wooyoung coughed, looking from Nabi to San’s wide eyed gaze. “I’m just here to bring Nabi back.”

San took a second to process. He gave Wooyoung a short nod. “Alright.”

Woo walked past you then, but not before giving you a worried glance.

He entered Nabi’s room, turning the light on and setting her down gently in her bed. He tucked her in as well as tucking the hair behind her ear, looking down at the daughter he always dreamed of. He sighed, and leaned to plug in her night light when he heard someone approach from the doorframe.

“You can head out,” San spoke quietly from the door, leaning up against it. “I can help her.”

Wooyoung paused for a second, but then fixed the blanket to pull it up to Nabi’s chin. 

“Do you know what to do when she can't sleep?” Wooyoung inquired, rather cockily. He didn't mean to come off that way, he was just protecting what was his.

Or what wasn't his. If it couldn't be his, it couldn't be anyone else's.

San’s eyes widened at Wooyoung’s tone. “No, but I’m sure I could—”

“Do you know that she can't sleep without her nightlight? Or that she has trouble breathing sometimes because of her asthma? That she gets nervous if the door is fully shut?” He swallowed the rest of his words, looking over at the man that stood in the way of his unknown happiness.

San sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Look, Wooyoung. I don't want to cause problems here. I just want to treat y/n right.” San looked over at the sleeping girl, an unknown feeling bubbling in his chest.

Wooyoung made his way to walk out the room, but stopped when he got face to face with San. 

“Don't rush it, man.” Woo sneered, but it was honest. You were precious; your heart was precious. He looked San up and down before leaving the room. He made his way into the living room where you were sleeping. He resisted his urge to break the distance to brush your hair out of your face.

He didn't understand his feelings, but he wasn't happy sharing you. Wether his mind thought you were like a sister to him, or his heart’s only reason for beating was you—either way, he felt so protective of you. Of Nabi. Of whatever type of relationship you had.

He let out a sigh, and then left, leaving behind a family he wished was his.

—

“There's what? A gas leak?”

“Uh huh.”

“And you can't stay in your apartment?”

“Nope.”

“So, you want to stay here?”

“Yep.” 

You sighed. Wooyoung was standing outside your apartment door with a duffel bag full of clothes you assumed. It was nine o’clock, a nice, cool September morning. He stared at you with those puppy dog eyes you could never say no to.

It was a few weeks after that date with San. it ended well, you waking up in his arms in the morning and Nabi neatly tucked into bed. You knew that Wooyoung came while San was there, but only because San told you he stopped by.

After that night, you spent days and days with San, bringing Nabi along so you didn't burden Wooyoung. Something still felt off as you spent your time with the sweet boy, but once again, it was probably all the stress you had on yourself to be happy. Maybe you were forcing it too much.

Back to the present, you haven't seen Wooyoung since a few days ago—you’ve been spending all your time with San. You missed him, so it was nice to see him. 

“Is there really a gas leak?” you raised an eyebrow, to which he gave you his signature smirk.

He walked into the apartment, sliding off his shoes and making himself at home. “Yes, I promise. I wouldn't make you deal with me on purpose.” he giggled, plopping onto the couch. “Just kidding. I would.”

He wasn't lying though. He was rudely awakened at five in the morning to a fireman slamming on his door. He ended up standing outside in his underwear and a t-shirt for two hours, until he was allowed to go in just to grab some clothes. He took the opportunity to grab a bag full so he could come to you.

You shut the door and turned towards him.

Wooyoung smirked, getting comfy in the corner of your couch. “Where’s Nabi? Still sleeping?” he asked you, unable to look away from you. From how your t-shirt was wrinkly from sleep, to how your eyes were barely open.

You nodded, sitting down next to him. You looked over at your best friend, who couldn't keep his eyes off you. “What?” you asked.

Woo shrugged, hugging his knees and kicking his feet slightly. “Nothing, you're just gorgeous.”

You scoffed, slapping him on the shoulder. “Shut up, Woo.”

He chuckled, and brought his attention to the wilting daisies in the vase on the fireplace. 

His smile faded slightly.

You yawned, stretching out your limbs. “Anyway, I was just about to make breakfast, so—”

“What’s your relationship with him?” Wooyoung interrupted, his chaotic behavior gone in seconds. He looked down at his duffle bag, which was sitting on the floor by the coffee table.

You furrowed your brows, pulling your legs up to sit criss-crossed. “Huh? With San?” you questioned. “What do you mean?”

“Are you dating him?” He pestered, letting out a pained laugh. “I mean, I know you're going on dates and sleeping together but like…”

“Were not..sleeping together,” you said with hesitance, but you got a hold of yourself. “And…to be honest, he hasn't asked me to be his girlfriend yet so, uh, we’re just seeing each other.”

Woo was quiet for a few moments, his attention full on the decaying flowers. It hurt him, for some reason, that San was able to sneak into your heart so easily. That he didn't even have to try while wooyoung has been by your side since he could remember. It also bothered him deeply that he felt this way about you—it confused him.

It only took someone to come in the way for him to realize that he might feel something for you.

But…he couldn't do that to Seonghwa. Despite knowing his wishes were for you to find happiness, Wooyoung couldn't fathom the fact that your happiness could be him.

“Ah,” He gulped, trying to distract himself from his confusing thoughts. He wasn't sure if he felt a romantic tug to you, or if it was just an attachment issue. “Could I try something?” 

You frowned, turning towards him. “Depends. Are you plotting murder?”

Usually he would have laughed at that. You knew he was in his thoughts because of his lack of response. 

You sat still as he faced you now, his eyes clouded and his expression worrisome. He reached out—slowly towards you, his fingertips meeting the bare skin of your cheek. You held in your breath as he cupped your face, his lips parting as he analyzed his feelings.

“What are you doing—”

“I need you to touch me.” is all he said, his face stone cold and his eyes even colder. You hesitated at those words, but something was burning inside you as his other hand rested on your knee.

You compiled without thinking, as if your body was demanding you to touch him. Your hand met his arm, running it up his sweatshirt sleeve. Suddenly, his hand that was on his knee gripped your wrist, guiding it to his face. 

You flinched as the hand that was on your cheek moved, his thumb now caressing your bottom lip. His eyes narrowed as he swallowed the lump in his throat. You felt your heart beat faster and faster with each passing moment, both of you close enough to press your lips against each other’s.

“I don't know…what I'm feeling,” he hummed, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes searching for yours. “I don't know why it makes me mad to see you with San.”

You let out a breath, his thumb still rubbing your lip. Your hand moved on its own, curling behind his ear to brush his two-toned hair back. His expression softened.

Before you were able to respond, a small, confused voice interrupted you.

“Mommy? Are you kissing him?” Nabi stood with her stuffed butterfly plushie in her hands, staring at you two. You were frozen in place, touching each other in a way you never did before. You both looked at the young girl with shock. “Kiss kiss kiss kiss—”

You jumped out of Wooyoung's grip, leaving him all flustered. You walked into the kitchen, holding onto Nabi’s little hand. “Shh. No, mommy wasn't kissing him.”

Your daughter was only three, but oh, she definitely caught onto something. You cleared your throat, looking over to see wooyoung in the same exact spot, looking down at his hands. You huffed, pushing out the weird butterflies you got from his touch. You subconsciously lifted your hand up to your lips, remembering the feeling of his fingertips on them. 

You groaned, distracting yourself with making breakfast. 

“Why do you have a bag?” Nabi asked Woo from the living room. You didn't even look over as you gathered ingredients for chocolate chip pancakes. 

“I’m staying here. For a little bit.”

“Why?” she asked him. “Do you love my mom?”

That caught your attention. Man oh man, she was way ahead of her age group, and you even were in the talks of enrolling her into pre-school. It was starting this month, and you felt like it would be great for a smart cookie like her.

Wooyoung was standing up now, bag in hand, looking over at you. He frowned for a moment, but immediately covered his face in happiness for the little one. “Of course I love your mom. She’s just like you.”

It took everything in you to avoid that unstable feeling—Wooyoung was the only one other than Seonghwa to make you feel that way.

Woo walked over to you then, his normal persona back and a big smile plastered to that painfully gorgeous face of his. 

Everything you felt for Wooyoung came crashing through your mind the minute you looked at his lips, your heart pounding and your mind spinning.

Oh, dear god. What was this feeling?

With a wink, he shattered any chance of you falling in love with someone else—you just didn't know it, yet.

“So, do I get the right or left side of the bed?”

[lovecarisi]

Mistakes We Knew We Were Making

Chapter 6: Relief

Dominick’s not there when you wake up. It’s almost 11am and your head feels like it’s about to split open. The curtains are still drawn and you’re thankful for the dark room. There’s water, coffee, and aspirin on the nightstand and you swallow pretty much everything within seconds before sinking back down into the pillow. Your stomach is in knots but not from the alcohol. You remember. Not word for word but you remember the gist of it. Fuck. The embarrassment you feel is overwhelming. What the fuck were you thinking? Even for drunk you, this is a new low. Normally you pride yourself in not making a fool of yourself under the influence; you’re usually the drunk friend that keeps all the other drunk friends in check. Damn, you knew as soon as you arrived at this house, as soon as you and Dominick entered this room with your bags that this would be a test and that you would fail miserably. God. And this had only been Day One. Now what would await you? Would he be mad? Sad? Would he call it quits? He would probably volunteer to sleep on the sofa for the remainder of the weekend. Not with that crazy girl he regrettably chose to fuck a few weeks ago who turned out to be a mess. Surprise, surprise. 

Wait, was there crying? Did you cry? And did he hold you and did you cry even more when he did? Oh good lord. 

A knock on the door. Fuck. 

‘It’s me.’ Louisa. Thank God. 

She comes in and closes the door. Sits on the bed next to you. 

‘I’m guessing you’re as hungover as the rest of us?’ she smiles a painful smile.

‘I sure am. Where’s Dominick? Is he okay?’ you ask, not sure if you’re ready for the answer. 

‘He’s downstairs. Preparing for the barbeque. He’s going mental, I can tell you, like crazy. That guy has some mad skills when it comes to food. He’s made some marinade - I don’t know what he put in there but it smells so delicious I wanna bathe in it. So yeah, he’s okay, why wouldn’t he be? Did something happen? Did you break his dick or something?’ she giggles and you sigh with relief. 

‘No, we just…I was drunk and said some words. Things. Stuff. I don’t know.’

‘Oh God, what did you say!?!’

‘I’m not sure. Something about him being too good for me. And I might have said that he thinks he has feelings for me but he doesn’t really, and that he will make a good husband for someone one day but just not for me. It was crazy drunk talk and now I hate myself, what can I say. Also I’m pretty sure I started crying because he got annoyed and then he had to comfort me.’

‘Oh honey, no. No you didn’t.’ Louisa looks at you in the most pitying way a best friend can and you feel even more sorry for yourself.

‘Yeah, I did. I feel so awkward. I don’t even know how to face him to be honest. Knowing him, and knowing how fucking good of a man he is, he will definitely pretend he doesn’t remember and I know he remembers because he wasn’t nearly as drunk. So I’m gonna have to pretend that I believe him.’ 

‘Just fuck it out like you always do.’ she suggests and you nod because obviously, that’s what’s most likely going to happen.

Louisa heads back downstairs and you get up and take a shower. Luckily, you feel slightly better afterwards, at least physically. Now comes the hard part. And you decide to be a woman about it. As you walk into the kitchen, Dominick is still there, preparing food with Louisa’s help but she flees as she sees you coming and you give her a grateful smile. He looks up and you wrap your arms around his waist, and thankfully he leans into you invitingly. 

‘I’m sorry about last night.’ you whisper, looking for a reaction from him and he gives you a soft smile. ‘I think I still have a lot of…stuff I haven’t dealt with from my past relationship and I guess that all came up in my drunken state. And I’m sorry I projected that onto you. That wasn’t fair. But you are a good man. And that other man would have taken advantage, so thank you for taking care of me last night. And for not being angry with me.’ 

You’re not quite sure if it’s the entire truth; whether your past relationship has anything to do with what you felt about Dominick last night. But for now it’s the best explanation you can come up with, for yourself and for him. So you mean it, earnestly. And he turns towards you and hugs you, kisses your hair, and you feel so much relief. There’s so much rawness in this moment between you two, you somehow wish you could take it back but at the same time you savor every second of it. 

‘It’s okay, my sweet. I could never be angry with you. And we all have our stuff. I get it. Don’t worry, yeah?’ he assures you and you hug him tighter.

You can tell he’s relieved too, and you’ve been given more time. How much more you don’t know. One month, two, three. Until the end of the summer maybe. Another tremor has passed. 

_______________

The rest of your 4th of July celebrations continue on without a hitch. You and Louisa help Dominick finish with the food, he wouldn’t let anyone else touch anything even though the others offer but he shoos them away. In exchange they take charge of the barbecuing and everything is delicious and you have the most fun, relaxed day, this time with a much more controlled alcohol intake. When the fireworks start in the evening, everyone is busy with each other so Dominick pulls you away and up the stairs and there you are again, naked and entangled under the sheets.

Compared to yesterday afternoon, it’s slow and passionate and you hold on to him for dear life, and it’s probably all the emotions of last night, for both of you. You try not to let it get to you but let’s face it, you are not a very good actress. 

‘It’s okay.’ he whispers as he sinks into you, kissing you deeply. Is this what Louisa meant when she said ‘fuck it out’?

You shut off your mind and let your body take over, or rather, you let Dominick take over your body. Your legs wrap around him and you focus solely on the feeling of him inside you, his skin against yours, his breath, the way he moans your name. It’s an intoxicating feeling having him this close. If you’re being completely honest with yourself it messes with your mind and perhaps that’s why you prefer the less intimate ways. One could argue that being on all fours and having a man raw you from behind is even more intimate but no, this is it for you. There’s no escaping how he looks into your eyes, how he kisses you; you are trapped, not just physically. Of course it feels wonderful, there’s no denying it. Everything is so intense with Dominick, and in these moments he brings you to the brink of almost forgetting that you are only lovers, not in love. And that is a dangerous thing. 

So yes, it’s cute and lovely when you ‘make love’ but you will always try to fuck instead for that exact reason. To avoid the feeling in your stomach you get when your eyes meet and he tells you that there isn’t a minute of the day he doesn’t think of you. And you should feel delighted but there’s regret and guilt you feel when he says it, so you kiss him again desperately so he doesn’t realize. So then you shut off your mind because you’ve had enough of your own fucked up thoughts this weekend and you try to focus on just the way your body feels. And your back arches as Dominick thrusts into you, still slowly but expertly hitting your gspot. He cups your breast softly, telling you how beautiful you are, and you do feel beautiful with him, and you do tell him he’s beautiful too because he is. Your hands grab his arms, tracing the muscles there, up his shoulders, down his back, leaving light scratch marks on his tanned skin, and you know he likes it as he hisses into your ear. You’ve gotten carried away in the past, just looking at him; while he was sleeping, while he was lying next to you in the sun. Giving him up will mean going cold turkey and you know it so you have to enjoy every inch of him as long as you can. You do wish you could stop time. 

When you pack your bags the next day it feels surprisingly bittersweet. All the anxiety you felt about sharing a room with Dominick for the weekend has been replaced by sadness that it’s over and you two have to leave your love nest behind. First night’s alcohol-fueled antics aside, it’s been really nice and knowing you’ll never get this back makes your heart sink. He seems to read your mind.

‘This wasn’t so bad.’ Dominick says, grabbing his toiletries from the bathroom. 

‘Yeah, well, apart from my little emotional outburst I’d say we did pretty good.’ 

‘Happens to the best of us.’ he smirks but you still wish you could make it unhappen. 

‘I guess we’re not gonna see each other for a while then, huh?’ you’re referring to the Bar of course, and the fact that it’s less than four weeks to the exam and all of you have to study and none of you need distractions.

‘For real? I’d think we need a bit of a, y’know, stress relief, at the end of each day. Like, as a reward.’ he’s standing there with his hands on his hips, all serious and you have to laugh. 

‘Okay, fair enough. So a stress relief fuck date every night?’ 

‘You don’t have to make it sound so seedy but yeah.’ 

You roll your eyes at him, cursing him for being adorable and so needy for you. Truth be told, you don’t think you could have gone even a week without him. If he hadn’t suggested it, you would have been at his door in a matter of days, scratching like a starved kitten, begging to be fed and petted. You’re just as bad as he is. 

________________

So it goes. Your alarm wakes you every day at 6am. A shower, a huge cup of iced coffee, a quick breakfast, and then it’s you and the books and papers until noon. You allow yourself ten minutes for a lunch break, usually some prepared snack or a bagel, more coffee, repeat. Time flies by and soon it’s 8pm and your stomach is growling and your doorbell rings and it’s Dominick and he always brings food and you devour it and then you devour each other. He was right about the stress relief. It does wonders. By 9.30pm you are usually asleep, worn out from studying and sex. He stays with you some nights but he knows not to be there when your alarm goes off so you have developed a routine although you do allow yourself to spend the weekends at his place, studying together, a little bit more relaxed. 

You admire his brain. The way he thinks. You have no doubt he’s going to pass the Bar with ease. Dominick says the same thing about you but you have always been unsure of yourself while he has this confidence, this tenacity that seems to just flow through him naturally. When you imagine him as a lawyer, you can just see a jury hanging on his every word while he delivers his opening or closing arguments or questions the witnesses; his intelligence, eloquence and charm all paired up will make for a deadly combination in a courtroom. It certainly worked on you, from the very first second. Dominick has this force of attraction about him that makes everyone around him, no matter the gender, want to be close to him, talk to him, have his attention. And at times it had made you jealous before realizing that you were the center of his attention, always. You’ve never used the term ‘exclusive’ and there have been instances when gorgeous girls have made their way over to him while you were nowhere near him but watching from afar. There were no rules about flirting with other people and he was unaware you were even looking but it put a winning smile on your face every time you saw him ignore their advances. In all honesty, the thought of him with someone else killed you inside. You knew, eventually you would both move on from one another and then some other girl would have him. Once you let him go you would have to be ready for that. But right now you weren’t ready to let him go just yet. 

_______________

The day of the Bar finally came and went and overall you have a good feeling about it. Now all you could do is wait for the results, stay at your part-time job in the meantime, or, if you’re lucky, get that clerk position with Emily at the UN you applied for. At the moment though, you’re in limbo, so you enjoy the summer, let the pressure fall off your shoulders, and celebrate with your friends. 

One of your fellow students is throwing a party on the rooftop of his apartment building the day after the exam. It’s the hottest day of the summer, or so they said and you’re wearing your skimpiest dress, hair up, and trying to cool yourself by pressing a cold glass of Vodka Soda against your neck. Dominick is late, on the hunt for more ice he promised to bring. You scan the crowd, wondering how many of these people will stay in your life now that you don’t even see each other at the library anymore. It’s a new chapter in your life for all of you and a lot of you will move on, perhaps even you. At the end of the day though, New York is a village and being in the same profession, you will run into each other, like it or not. 

A cold pair of hands on your shoulders interrupts your thoughts and you shriek in surprise, turning around to find Dominick giggling at you. 

‘Ugh, you’re so mean!’ you scold but kiss the corner of his mouth, hugging him. 

‘And here I was thinking you’d appreciate it considering this heat!’ he hugs you back, swaying you from side to side a little.

‘With a bit of a warning, maybe.’ there you are again, back and forth like an old married couple. You have to roll your eyes at yourself. 

‘You look divine.’ he says and lets go of you, looking you up and down.

‘I’m sweating, everywhere.’

‘That’s hot. Won’t make a difference then when I tear off that dress and throw you down somewhere to-’ you put your finger on his lips to shut him up as you see some of your friends approaching.

That visual he gave you stays with you the entire night. And apparently, he has some thoughts on his mind as well. You can tell by how his fingers are brushing the back of your thighs just below the hem of your dress every time he walks by you. The way he tucks the loose strands of your hair behind your ears whenever he stands next to you, hand lingering there for a bit too long. The way his eyes are focusing on your lips whenever you suck on your straw and you make a point of licking them ever so often, on purpose, of course. Fluttering your lashes up at him innocently, making him blush because he sure as fuck is thinking about your mouth wrapped around his cock. And he sighs and looks away, and swears under his breath and you giggle and he comes back, his hand on the small of your back. 

And you check that no one is watching and you stick your butt out a little and he double-checks for witnesses, and his hand wanders there for a brief second. Cupping your asscheek, squeezing before he withdraws quickly as though he burned himself on a hot oven. Then your fingers, wet from the condensation of your cold glass, casually wander down your neck to the mounds of your breasts, leaving a moist trail you know he is dying to lick. He clears his throat, moving closer again and you feel the heat of his body against yours, you can swear he’s shaking as he grabs your thigh, fingers digging into your flesh under the makeshift bar. He’s dangerously close to your lace-covered center, a few more inches and he would feel just how wet you are from toying with him like this. So you walk away to the other side of the roof, out of sight a little bit, leaning against the wall, waiting for him to join you. 

‘You’re being a really bad girl tonight.’ Dominick sighs, flustered out of his mind. 

‘I can be even worse.’ you grin, shoving your leg between his legs, feeling him get hard. 

‘Don’t you dare.’ he warns softly but you know he has lost this battle already and there’s not much he can do. 

‘What? Hmm?’ you raise your leg, until your thigh is at his crotch, moving back and forth gently over him. 

‘Stop!’

‘You came over here. You followed me. Just walk away then. You can’t, huh?’ you laugh, continuing your movements.

‘No, I can’t. You got me in a chokehold and you know it. You and these red lips.’ his thumb is on your bottom lip and you open your mouth, sucking it in, making him gasp.

‘You want something else in there, don’t you, Dominick?’ you look up at him and he has that look on his face, that look of denial but you know what he wants. ‘You want me to be a really, really bad girl? You want me to suck your cock and swallow your cum for you, hmm? Every last drop? I want it so bad, Dominick. I want to taste you so bad. Have you throbbing in my mouth.’ 

He curses and grabs you and you giggle while he pulls you toward the rooftop exit. Down the stairs you go until you find a dark corner in the stairwell, and soon that red lipstick of yours is leaving marks down his neck, chest and stomach. And you get on your knees and unbuckle his belt and his head falls back against the cool wall and you feel dizzy because he looks so fucking hot and you can’t wait to make him feel good. His cock is rock hard as you pull down his underwear and you take him into your mouth hungrily, and he growls your name desperately. He can’t help but grab your head and fuck into you but you don’t mind; on the contrary, you can feel yourself growing even wetter as his cock hits the back of your throat, making you gag slightly. You riled him up good all evening and seeing him lose it is all you wanted.  

It doesn’t take long until you can feel his muscles tense but instead of picking up the pace he withdraws from your mouth, leaving you surprised as he pulls you up. His hand immediately under your dress, feeling for your wetness and he smiles before kissing you sinfully.  

‘Ah, you thought you could fuck with me? Act like you got me all wrapped around your little finger? Like you’re the one in control. Nuh-uh, kitten. Look how wet you are for me. Two can play that game, baby.’ he whispers, shoving you against the wall as he removes your thong.

You want to protest but his words make you delirious as he wraps your legs around his hips, aligning himself with your entrance. He kisses you again and slips into you without effort, immediately starting a hard, relentless rhythm, fucking you against the wall. 

Fuck. You come undone. Yes, you wanted to be in control but now he’s making you lose all of it. All you can do is hold on to him while he slams into you, over and over. It’s quick, it’s rough, it lasts only a few minutes. The only sounds are your moans and your bodies, slick with sweat, pounding together. And you cum hard and unexpectedly, biting down on his shoulder to stifle a scream that the whole apartment complex would have heard otherwise. He can barely hold you up, his own knees buckling from his orgasm, and when it’s over you just hang from each other, foreheads pressed together, panting, shaking. 

And then somewhere above you you can hear a door open and footsteps coming down the stairs and you quickly gather up your clothes and retreat further into the corner, giggling. 

‘How ironic would it be if we’d get arrested one day after taking the Bar?’ he says, zipping up his jeans while you pull up your thong. 

__________________

Half an hour later Dominick walks you home and kisses you goodnight in front of your building. You can tell he wants to come up but you leave for Connecticut in the morning, to visit your family for a few days. Come to think of it, it’s the longest you’ve been without him since the two weeks at the beginning of your summer fling. And you admit to yourself that you’re going to miss him terribly.    

__________________

thank you so much to my betareader for this chapter @pascalispretty aka The Rose of the Reach on AO3 please check out her works!)

tagging @plaidbooks @eltrujillo :)

[sisterofficerlucychen]

Do you think Tim and Lucy will get back together? If they do do you think it will be another secret dating era? If they get back together and he is still on patrol that would make him her direct supervisor again like he is now, do you think we would have a repeat of 5x12 or would they be able to date without one of them having to transfer? I think this time it should be Lucy changing jobs.

Do you think.Tim is actually going to get the help he needs? If he does do you think part of it is so that he can a better man for Lucy the kind that he thinks she deserves? Do you Lucy will get the help she needs? Sorry so many questions. Do you think the writers will go the route of having them date others before returning to each other or do you think it will be attempt #2 that will stick?

hi ♡ omg no pls bring ‘em all.

Do you think Tim and Lucy will get back together? 

yes, 100%. there’s quite a few reasons why i think they will: 

ngl, my favorite reason i talked about here but essentially the foreshadowing through parallels

aside from that, there’s a $$$ component. a big part of their viewership stems from chenford and they know this, they know what it means lol. to quote abril rodas: “that’s bad business” (to not get them back together) 😂

the tca interview where eric said lucy would “help bring out a lot of the best in tim to help him navigate that” — we haven’t seen this and even if it’s not lucy supporting him through this as a couple, i think it’s a step in the right direction. i think past the pain and shock and awkwardness of it all, lucy will worry and want to help when she sees how bad he's spiraling? that's who she is.

there’s far too many hints from the actors for it to be permanent like they all keep saying to have hope and that the finale will end at least with some resolution.

i am delulu and refuse to believe that five years of a slow burn ends here ✨ (i wanted to quote another character but i can't remember who said it lmao. but insert here that line about it not making a good ending to the story or something like that?)

If they do do you think it will be another secret dating era? 

idk but i want it 👀

here’s the thing, there’s so much we missed in their secret dating era. like i want more of them sneaking around and almost getting caught, trying to play it off but others starting to catch on, the reaction of everyone finding out they’re back together! oh! and an actual betting pool that we see this time????

plus it has the potential to make sense, i think? because it could be that they’re sneaking around because they’re still testing the waters and trying to figure it out again before letting everyone know.

If they get back together and he is still on patrol that would make him her direct supervisor again like he is now, do you think we would have a repeat of 5x12 or would they be able to date without one of them having to transfer? 

hmm, i’m not sure but you bring up an interesting point. i know eric said we wouldn’t see tim in metro uniform for a while and i thought that he was back in metro gear by the finale but he isn’t? which now makes me wonder if he ever will be? i have wonderings about this now lol. but anyway, i could see it going both ways? on one hand, i want to say it’d be a repeat of 5x12 bc its protocol but also, they’ve already been a couple before and worked together so idk what protocol is with that 🤷 

however, looking back at the s6 finale bts — tim’s in patrol uniform and lucy’s not? so there may be a chance that regardless if they’re back together or not, lucy ends up moving out of patrol and does make detective? because it's odd that tim, aaron, and celina are all in uniform while lucy and angela are not? like the only other reason i could think of for lucy not being in uniform but still on patrol is that she was undercover and got made/tagged in somehow to whatever's gonna go down?

Do you think Tim is actually going to get the help he needs?

god, i hope so. this poor man has had so much trauma in one lifetime. he needs to heal, he needs a break. i think it was confirmed in an interview or at least alluded to that he does? aside from what we see in the 6x07 promo with sus therapist hopefully. there’s so much he’s holding onto that i don’t think he’s ever fully processed any of it like the majority of his life has been to be in survival mode? 

 If he does do you think part of it is so that he can a better man for Lucy the kind that he thinks she deserves? 

yes and no. from how he broke up with her, i don’t see him going about getting help and healing for her, i think he’ll do it because he needs to. he needs to do it for himself, to heal from the scars he carries and forgive himself to see that he's worthy of so much. i think that would have been an entirely different conversation if he was gonna get help to be someone who he thinks lucy deserves. but i do believe he’ll become that person again though as a result from it. 

Do you Lucy will get the help she needs?

i also really hope so. lucy bottles things just as much as tim does except she does a much better job at hiding it because she comes off as such an open book that you’d never know. i think the break up will be the tipping point? ngl, i'm struggling a little more to understand her storyline because it doesn't seem as clear. we know it'll be regarding her mental health but i thought it was going to be fully kicked off with the shooting and then it wasn't? so i'm guessing the break up might be the tipping point? because there's so much she also hasn't processed that she really does need to. i also hope she's able to see the support system she actually has because they keep isolating her and she's not alone but she feels alone which is only going to be magnified by tim walking away (and likely? tamara moving out).

Do you think the writers will go the route of having them date others before returning to each other or do you think it will be attempt #2 that will stick?

i don't think so, at least i hope not. i find it really hard to imagine either of them dating someone else because of why they broke up like they didn't stop loving each other: tim walked away because he thought he was doing what was best for her and lucy was literally grasping for him as he kissed her goodbye. the fact that they were joking about grandkids on their second date, nonchalantly discussing their own kids when they lost jordy, they were building a future with each other. how do you move on from that when you found the person you want to spend your life with? i think attempt #2 will be the one that sticks but i don't think it's going to be easy or quick, there's so much pain there and aside from breaking her heart he also broke her trust but because of it i do think they'll come back even stronger.

[abbzworld]

A Not-So-Silent Princess

AN – Here’s the third story! This should hopefully make up for the angst last story. lol

@zelinkcommunity

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

There were many things Link admired about Zelda.

For starters, she was beautiful. He hesitated to admit this out loud as he was unclear if it would be considered improper, but her thick blonde hair and how she could look great in whatever attire she wore that day, whether that’d be a dress or a tunic, always made her look so lovely.

In fact, he wasn’t the only one to notice how stunning she looked. He could remember overhearing a conversation between two aristocrats not long ago at the Hylian Ball…

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

“Goodness, the princess looks positively radiant today, doesn’t she?”

“Mm, yes she does.”

“It’s a shame that the Calamity is hanging over our heads. I’m sure she would have potential suitors lining up to marry her were to not for that!”

“Agreed!”

Both women giggled before the first one sighed and continued with, “Regardless, I feel a little sorry for her. She should be enjoying herself with her studies and finding true love, not being holed up in a castle and having to pray day in and day out for her divine powers to awaken…”

“Yes, I quite agree…”

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

Unfortunately, those were probably the nicest words he’d overheard being said about Zelda.

He had lost count of how many times she had been told that she was “useless”, “weak”, “not trying hard enough” or some other ridiculous word or phrase that showed how ignorant the other party was.

They had no idea how hard she had been trying…

How she’d kneel in the scared springs until she was shivering from the cold water. How she had been wallowing in self-pity, thinking that something must’ve been wrong with her as a result of not understanding how her powers worked.

And they especially didn’t know how she’d cried herself to sleep in his arms, having no one else to rely on in that moment… not even herself.

But regardless, she was still an amazing young woman and she had the compassionate and caring personality to match her beauty.

She was an incredibly dedicated scholar and princess, determined to prove the doubters wrong. Yes, it was her sacred duty to do so but most people thought that that was all she saw it as. But that certainly wasn’t the case.

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

“…and I’ve heard that some monster sightings have occurred around Hateno Village. I can’t go and despite being such an amazing fighter, you can’t either. However, what you can do is bring this up with your captain and see what he thinks.”

“Alright, Princess.” He nodded. “Do you think that it will work?”

She sighed. “I hope so… I’d hate for the villagers to be put in harms way because no one was defending them.”

“I agree, Princess.”

“Excellent!” She smiled. “Now, on that subject, I have some robots to test in the field and I believe that once they’re at full working capacity, they shall be of great assistance in keeping everyone safe!”

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

He couldn’t help but smile at the memory, pleased that Zelda cared so much about her people, even if they didn’t fully know it yet.

And last, but certainly not least, her intelligence.

She was incredibly smart; fascinated by things like history and the Sheikah technology they were trying to figure out how to use.

This annoyed her father and many others to no end but Link honestly didn’t care about this. She was a brilliant scholar! And he wanted nothing more than for her to be happy doing what she loved.

And in spite of her royal duties and the heavy burden she carried around, Zelda still allowed herself to let go of her worries and be free every once in a while.

Case in point, what they were doing right now.

“All of these flowers are so beautiful, aren’t they Link?”

“Yes.” He answered with a slight smile on his face as he admired them with her. He didn’t know much about flowers, but Zelda’s enthusiasm made it hard to overlook them.

“Oh, I can’t wait until they all bloom!” She excitedly said. “Then they’ll look even more incredible!”

He softly chuckled, watching her as she picked up the Sheikah Slate and began taking pictures of the field.

“Just so we’ll have a before and after comparison to make.” She explained to him.

He smiled, silently watching as she continued.

Once she was done, she suddenly gasped.

“Hm? Is everything alright, Princess?”

Thankfully, however, Zelda was grinning happily instead of looking afraid, so he relaxed.

“What is it?”

“Oh Link! Look!”

He followed where she was pointing and it took a few moments for him to notice what she was excited about.

“Is that…?”

“A Silent Princess!” Zelda exclaimed. “Oh, this is wonderful!”

Link smiled, feeling relieved that her favorite flower was still there, as it had been some weeks since they’d last seen one.

They were a very rare and very vulnerable flower, being an endangered species that for some reason could only survive in the wild. This made attempts at helping them thrive very difficult, but Zelda knew that the best thing for the flower was for it to grow on its own.

“I’m glad that they’re still out there.” Link answered her.

Zelda beamed at him, clearly feeling the same way.

“They’re so lovely, aren’t they? It’s absolutely incredible that the species is still around, seeing as how we have both humans and monsters wreaking their habitats.”

She looked a little sad at the thought, but then smiled again before he could get worried. “I’m just so glad they’re alright!”

Link nodded, pleased as well, as she took out her slate and tried to focus the camera to take a picture.

It was clear that it wasn’t easy though, as she grumbled to herself, “Oh, I wish I could get a better view…”

Link nodded, staying silent as she figured it out. He knew she could as she was smart enough. And even if it didn’t work, Purah could help them out later.

“Got it!” She exclaimed only a few moments later, smiling with pride as she showed him the picture.

It was indeed a decent shot, clear enough to show the Silent Princess growing in a field of flowers.

“I can’t wait to show the gardeners and Purah this!” She giggled, making Link smile as he admired her.

“Why don’t you tell me more about them?”

“Hm? I thought I told you already?” Zelda looked confused.

He stifled a smile before answering her with, “I don’t mind being told again. I’m not much of a gardener after all.”

Zelda then smiled. “Alright, if you insist!”

He got comfortable as Zelda began listing off many of the facts and statistics of the Silent Princess, almost as though she were giving a demonstration.

All the while, Link just listened to her gush about her favorite flower with a soft smile on his face.

Yes… Link admired his princess greatly.

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

AN – I hope you enjoyed! See you tomorrow!

[sugurusdiscordmoderator]

my Satoru Gojo head cannon:

18+ MDNI cw: degradation, one night stands, milfs, foursome, etc.

authors note at bottom lmao

• he is such a player and just makes girl after girl fall in love with him because he’s the Satoru Gojo

• he never gets attached, he doesn’t let himself because of his position as one of the strongest, knowing he could die young. But the thing is, it’s not because he would feel bad for the girl if he died, he just wants to fuck and have fun as much as possible before he goes out

• Suguru had to take him to get tested while they were in school and is like not very proud of Satoru’s sex life (he’s always left to explain to the girls with the broken heart after Gojo ghosts them)

• he’s literally so good in bed… girls are begging to have him sleep with them again but he hardly ever hits the same girl twice. If he fucks the same girl twice she has like god tier pussy / head

• Shoko and Gojo hooked up once after a dare/bet and they have not spoken of it since. She hasn’t slept with another man since then

• He has talked Suguru into a foursome before with two really cute girls they met on one of their weekend adventures in Tokyo. Suguru was too polite and gentle that Satoru claimed he’d never ask him to do that again

• 100% likes degrading his women but always says it in the nicest way - “that’s my pretty slut” and “such a good little whore for me” and “you just couldn’t wait for my cock huh?” (with that shit eating grin he has in S2 E1 when he asks Utahime if she’s crying)

• mostly cares about his pleasure. occasionally eats pussy if he thinks yours is special but not often. it’s always 69, mutual masturbation, etc with him.

• aftercare : he’ll hand you a towel & let you shower in his nice ass bathroom but not much more than that. UNLESS you gave him a run for his money and went multiple rounds. Then he’ll order you food and watch a movie or something until you both fall asleep.

• he sleeps in really late so by the time you wake up the next morning you really don’t want to wait for him so you sneak out and drive/walk of shame home. Not before you go through his shit first to see how boujee he actually is

• Gojo who sleeps in on purpose because it makes it less awkward in the morning. He wakes up before you to go to the bathroom and drink some water because he wants to take a picture of your hickey cover neck and chest, bruised ass, and blissed our face. He keeps a secret folder on his phone of his women so he can remember by tits/ass/face because he simply can’t remember every woman’s name.

• LOVES milfs and slightly older women. I just know as soon as he turned 18 he was out looking for like a 30 year old to rock their world.

• has home wrecked a marriage at some point ^

—

listen I’m so sorry but I just can’t picture Gojo being romantic. Let alone gay for Suguru. But I love him so so much please, I would let him destroy me and drop me off at a crack house to figure out how to get home

don’t come at me

[bro-atz]

1024UB CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: IT'S NOT YOU, IT'S ME

word count: 2.4k

table of contents ♤ previous chapter ♤ next chapter

San was doing his best. He was really trying to get his head into the dates. He wanted to enjoy his dates with Iseul, but every time they went out, San just spaced out. No matter what they were doing, San felt absolutely nothing. No butterflies, no anxiety, no excitement— nothing. It wasn’t that Iseul repulsed him or anything, but he felt like he was forcing himself to enjoy the dates. He liked the dates, but it just didn’t feel right with Iseul. He wondered if there was something wrong with him. Did he lose the ability to have feelings? He didn’t feel numb, but he didn’t feel mentally present.

He couldn’t help but think if he was lying to himself when he had that crush on Iseul. He thought to how he felt when he first had a crush on her, but it must’ve been so long ago because he just couldn’t remember any of it. He would look at her face and think about how objectively pretty she was, but his heart would not beat faster. His heart was pretty static.

Was he lying when he told Iseul he liked her? Was he lying to himself about liking anyone? Was he the group sociopath destined to never love anyone? He overthought everything about himself and his life on his dates with Iseul. For instance, he was on his third date with her, and his mind was anywhere but there.

They were at a coffee shop— not Ze Cafe as they were still testing the waters with their relationship— to get coffee and chat. That should have been simple for him. It was just grabbing coffee and talking; but no, he overcomplicated it. He tried to make this seem like a bigger deal than it was. It was a date for crying out loud. There should have been more feelings than his annoyance at his overthinking.

She was pretty much talking for the two of them while his brain was somewhere in the clouds. What happened to the way he liked her voice? The little laugh she had at the end of every joke? San was thinking about the girl in front of him but he couldn’t even hold onto any of the things she brought up— he knows that she said something about the lab, Yunho, Gyuri— wait, Gyuri?

“Sorry, can you repeat what you said? I didn’t catch it,” he asked her.

“I could tell you weren’t,” she responded with a sigh. “Are you okay?”

“Huh? Yeah, why?”

“You spaced out. Tell me what’s wrong,” she put her hand on his.

Normally, the places she touched would tingle and he would feel like he was burning up under her touch. Nothing happened when she touched him this time, or the past two dates, or even when he confessed.

“You’re spacing out again,” she sighed.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry. I’ve just been stressed with classes—”

“Choi San, don’t lie to me.”

San was completely taken aback. He looked at her, his eyes wide and his eyebrows raised. He couldn’t really decipher the look on her face— she wasn’t angry, but she looked stern, like she was a teacher and he was failing class.

“I just want you to honestly tell me what’s going on,” she said softly, her hand no longer resting on his.

“Nothing’s going on…”

Iseul sat back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. “San, we may have only gone on three dates, but we’ve been friends for a long time before that. You’re not acting like yourself. You keep spacing out, and not just today, but the other two times we went out, too. When you told me you liked me, it didn’t feel like you were saying it.”

“What do you mean? Of course I was the one who said it. Who else was there last night?”

“Why did you take that literally—” Iseul cut herself off to stifle a laugh. “I meant it sounded like you were saying it with your head, not your heart.”

The best way San could describe himself in that moment was the spinning Mr. Krabs meme. Iseul really hit the nail on the head. He’d been overthinking literally everything, even this. How did she know him so well? She knew him better than he knew himself, and he also barely knew anything about her. You would think that he would know her after being friends with her for almost four years, but clearly, that was not the case. Why didn’t he know anything about her? What the hell was wrong with him?

“Oy, Earth to San,” she waved in his face and snapped him out of his spiraling thoughts once more.

“Sorry…”

“I’m not mad, San. I just want to know what’s going on so I can help you. Be honest with me.”

“Honestly? …Honestly I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Clearly— I mean, huh?” Iseul caught herself.

San looked at her skeptically before continuing. “It’s true that I did like you, like I had a crush on you. I liked you for so long, too, but I think after Bora came into the picture, things changed.”

“How did Bora change how you feel about me…? Oh my God, don’t tell me you like Bora!”

“What?! No!”

“Then why’d you bring her up?” Iseul looked completely and utterly confused.

“Timeline wise! I can’t tell you what month and day it was that things shifted because I honestly don’t know when they did, but what I do know is that post-Bora, my heart changed before my brain did, which is why I keep overthinking everything,” San explained to the best of his ability.

Then, the weirdest thing happened: Iseul smiled at him. He basically admitted to her that he had no feelings for her, and here she was smiling? It was so weird, until she said, “You have no idea how happy I am that you’re being honest with me.”

“Why do you say that?” San was trying really hard to not be weirded out.

“I feel like I’m finally talking to the San I knew again. The past three dates, I felt like I was dating some random guy, not someone I knew. It was so weird, and a little uncomfortable.”

That made sense to San, but he still responded, “Ow, okay.”

“No, no, I’m not calling you weird or uncomfortable! I’m saying that if a relationship is supposed to work out, then the beginning of it shouldn’t feel like a giant question mark. You should be able to be in the moment, not somewhere off in la la land.”

For the first time in a while, San felt his emotions return. Everything made sense for him. He was forcing himself to go on these dates because liking Iseul was all he thought he knew. Relief overcame him, and he actually smiled. It wasn’t a forced smile or anything, either; he was genuinely smiling. Things were starting to fall into place.

“Iseul, I love you.”

“…Romantically or platonically?”

“Platonically. You really, wow, just… the words aren’t coming to me right now, but thank you. You are such an amazing person, and I’m so glad I got the chance to have a crush on you and go on dates with you. You’re right, though. It’s not fair to either of us if we force ourselves to be in this relationship.”

“I’m glad I could help!”

The two smiled at each other, and there was a brief wave of relief that seemed to overcome both of them. Then, San suddenly realized, “Wait, I hope you’re okay. I’m sorry I can’t feel the same way—”

“Don’t worry. I didn’t catch feelings like that, especially because of how detached you were,” Iseul laughed. Still, her laugh didn’t make his heart fly like it used to, but it did make him happy.

The two shared a couple more laughs before leaving the coffee shop. They were going to head back to 1024UB together, but Iseul got a phone call from Yunho saying he fucked up the control group data or something like that. Iseul huffed as she said bye to San and ran away to the lab. San took a deep breath— he felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He couldn’t help but have a skip in his step as he went back to 1024UB.

He did the craziest thing on his way back— he realized he hadn’t talked to Gyuri properly in a couple weeks, especially after he started going out with Iseul. He thought back to the night Gyuri got really drunk and cried for Seonghwa in his arms. He thought about how he felt, and he felt his chest tighten. Deep down, he knew that he was starting to feel different about Gyuri, but he didn’t know what kind of feelings those were until he talked to Iseul. So, he decided to call Gyuri to catch up on conversations and intimacy. Kissing Iseul didn’t do it for him, but the thought of kissing Gyuri? He could feel his blood rush through his body.

The phone rang twice before she picked up. San could hear Gyuri panting, which honesty alarmed him— he didn’t think Gyuri would pick up in the middle of having sex, but the noise on her end made him think she was.

“Hello?” she answered breathlessly.

“Hey, what are you up to right now?”

“I’m at the gym.”

Relief washed through his body. Thank God— but why was he thanking God? For the fact that she didn’t pick up in the middle of sex or that she wasn’t having sex with someone else? San shook his head to stop himself from overthinking again. “Oh…” he felt so stupid with that response.

“Why’d you call? I thought you were on a date with Iseul?”

“Yunho fucked something up again,” technically he wasn’t lying to her; he was only telling her part of the truth.

“Of course he did.”

“Anyway, meet me on the roof when you’re done. I want to start a new anime,” he said, hoping she’d get the hint.

The line was quiet for a second— he couldn’t even hear her breathing. “…Okay. I’ll let you know when I’m on my way up there.”

“Okay. See you.”

“Bye.”

San didn’t run home, but he did walk a little faster than usual. He got home and considered changing. He wasn’t wearing anything particularly fancy, just a standard “boyfriend look” with an oversized tee and ripped jeans. His hair was styled a little, though, so he messed it up a little while looking in the mirror. He could physically feel his heart beating in his chest. San was definitely putting in a little more effort for Gyuri than he had for Iseul. Right before leaving his apartment, he grabbed a couple of soju bottles, then he made his way up to the roof.

There was a cool breeze in the air when he got to the roof. He set the bottles on a table and sat on that table as he waited for Gyuri. He didn’t know how long she was going to take, nor did he really care. As long as she was going to meet him on the roof, he was fine. He sat and stared at the stars for God knows how long— he didn’t want to check his phone. He didn’t want to see if Gyuri texted him.

San heard the door to the roof open. He turned to see Gyuri standing there with her hair slightly wet. She was wearing bike shorts and a long sleeve shirt, something so minimal, but she looked amazing to him at that moment. San hopped off the table and walked towards her as she stood there mildly confused.

“Hey, what happened? Why did you…” she trailed off as he got closer.

He pinned her against the door and locked it, his eyes gazing into hers. His heart was beating faster by the second, and a small smile crept onto his face as one hand wrapped around her waist and pulled her in, the other cupping her face softly. He brought his lips to hers slowly, tenderly; and he felt it. The butterflies swarmed through his stomach all the way up to his chest. He couldn’t stop kissing her— he didn’t want to stop. He wanted this feeling to last for as long as possible. He wanted her to make him feel like the world was rotating too fast and that he had to hold onto her to keep steady.

He pulled away, leaving Gyuri speechless. She tried to get a word out, but San didn’t give her the opportunity to let her speak. He wanted to hear her voice, yes, but not yet. All he wanted was her pressed against him. He never lost his feelings— he just left them with Gyuri after that night she cried in his arms, after he saw her at her most vulnerable. He tried to deny his feelings by dating Iseul, but that was never going to work. Now, he was just mad that he wasted all that time ignoring how he really felt.

San didn’t dare say a word to her about his feelings, though. He just kept kissing her, the same way she had that night. He was happy that she was kissing back, that her hands were pressed against his chest and the back of his neck. Every moment that he took a second to let the two of them breathe, she would try to talk, and he would interrupt her with a chain of kisses.

During one of those chains, he carried her to the turfed area on the roof and laid her down gently. He hovered above her and looked at her, taking every part of her in. It was Gyuri. It was definitely Gyuri.

“San, wh—”

He interrupted her with another kiss. “Don’t say anything.”

Without a second to waste, San’s lips trailed down her neck, leaving light kisses as he went. His impatient hands pulled her shirt off and slipped her pants off, leaving her wearing only her underwear. Her face was bright red as he kept exploring her body like he’d never explored it before. He loved the look on her face. It only made his heart beat faster.

Just as he requested, Gyuri didn’t utter another word, and she also suppressed her moans as San had his way with her on the roof, the stars shining brightly above them.

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[munstysmind]

First prompt:

"Please don't leave me in here alone." - Chris & Maddie

WARNING/S: mentions of throw up/vomit, mentions of blood, medical setting

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE USED IN ANY CAPACITY

Divider by @firefly-graphics

MAIN MASTERLIST

MADDISON MASTERLIST

MADDISON SHORTS AND EXTRAS MASTERLIST

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Chris lets out a long groan as he stretches out his entire body before slumping back against the most uncomfortable chair he’s ever sat in and looks over at Maddie sleeping soundly as the bag of fluids connected to her IV slowly drips away.

It’s been a hard week, one for the hardest he’s had in a while, and it isn't ending anytime soon.

She’s been sick, really sick.

And it’s made him sick with worry.

He’s barely slept in the four days since she first threw up. And it hasn’t stopped. She hasn’t been able to keep anything down, not even water.

It actually looked like she was on the mend this morning. She managed to keep down some apple juice with blended ice for a good few hours and was feeling a little better until she brought it all back up… with blood.

And for the first time in the three years they’d been together, he was harsh with her. He didn’t want to, but he had no choice.

She didn’t want to go to the hospital, and he didn't blame her with the trauma she has, but she needed medical attention, and quickly.

That was hours ago. After tests and scans and more tests it’s now a waiting game for the results.

He feels so helpless knowing there’s nothing he can do to make her better. It’s like he’s failing her. All he can do is watch over her and pray to whoever’s listening that she’s going to be okay.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts by her quiet whine as she stirs, stretching out before rolling onto her side and curling up.

“Chris?” she whimpers, making his heart ache as a frown spreads across her forehead.

He hates this with every fibre of his being, seeing her so sick. She never gets sick. He can’t even remember the last time she had a cold.

“I’m here” he says quietly, gently squeezing her hand before running his thumb back and forth over her knuckles.

She lets out a soft groan and squeezes back as she slowly opens her eyes, blinking as they adjust to the ridiculously bright lights in her room.

A small smile spreads across her face as soon as her eyes focus on him and she visibly relaxes, realising he’s actually here and she isn’t imagining things in her semi-drugged up state.

“Hey baby, how you feeling?” he asks quietly as he reaches forward and brushes her hair off her face.

“Bit better” she mumbles, her eyes fluttering shut again as she leans into his touch. Since the day she had her first panic attack in front of him, on set of The Winter Soldier all those years ago, his touch has comforted her in a way no one else’s does.

“Is your pain any better?” he asks, praying it’s subsided in the few hours she’s been asleep. She just lets out a pained grunt and shakes her head.

“I’m sorry, baby” he whispers before leaning forward and pressing a gentle kiss to her temple, making her hum quietly.

“You missed” she mumbles, puckering her lips and pointing to them. He lets out a quiet chuckle before pressing his lips to hers, only pulling away when there’s a knock at the door.

“Come in” he says, sitting up in his chair and turning his attention to who he assumes is a doctor as she quietly comes into the room.

“Hi, I’m Doctor Loscoe, I’ll be looking after you tonight. How are you feeling?” Doctor Loscoe asks, giving them a kind smile.

“I wanna go home” Maddie mumbles. She’s never felt so sick in her life and all she wants to do is curl up snuggled into Chris’ side and forget everything, but she can’t because she’s stuck in a stupid hospital bed.

“I don’t blame you but unfortunately you’re not going anywhere tonight, I’m sorry” Doctor Loscoe tells her, making Chris straighten up in his chair.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, looking at Doctor Loscoe worried.

She gives him a small frown and pulls up some information on the iPad she’s holding, quickly double checking it before looking back at him.

“Not really, no. Her blood tests show her white cell count is quite elevated, about three times what it should be, which tells us there’s an infection somewhere. We just don’t know where. We’re going to run some more tests in the morning but until then I’d like to get her started on some broad spectrum antibiotics to start tackling whatever’s going on” Doctor Loscoe tells him before walking to the side of Maddie’s bed and adjusts something on one for her handful of monitors.

“Is that okay, baby? The meds?” Chris asks Maddie quietly, wanting to make sure she understands what he’s just been told. She gives him a small nod in response before

“I’ll get an order written up then one of the nurses will come hook an IV up” Doctor Loscoe says before making some notes on the iPad.

“Thank you” Maddie says quietly, trying, and failing, to give the woman a smile as she lets out a whimper, unable to hide her pain.

“You’re very welcome. I’m going to put an order in for some pain relief too, get you more comfortable” Doctor Loscoe says as her pager goes off. She pulls it off the waistband of her scrubs and reads it before quickly leaving the room.

As soon as the door closes, Maddie bursts into tears, well and truly overwhelmed. It makes Chris’ heart break in two as he leans over her and rests his forehead against her temple.

“It’s okay, baby. You’re ok. You’re safe. I’m right here” he says quietly as he rubs slow circles on her back.

“M’sorry” she gasps, trying to calm herself down. She hates crying, even in front of the man who’s her everything. She knows it’s irrational, but it makes her feel weak, like she’s back56 to being that damaged woman Travis created.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, baby” Chris tells her, wishing she didn’t feel like she has to apologise to him for having basic human emotions.

“Please don't leave me in here alone” she whispers, her voice shaking as she reaches out to him and grips his shirt tightly, trying to ground herself.

She’s so scared.

“I’m not going anywhere” he says quietly as he kicks off his shoes and climbs into the tiny bed with her, pulling her into his lap and pressing a long kiss to her forehead “I promise”

@aussieez @rookiemartin @babeyyemor @secretaryunpaid @pixie88 @chickensarentcheap @dhoruwolfie @themaradwrites @cali-nyc5 @darsynia @birminghamshelbyboys @wewannasaygoodnight @sweetbunnyliddle @km-ffluv

[creative-mind-write]

Love At First Fight

Ngaytxoa - Sorry iknimaya - The rite of passage for young na’vi Sempul - Father Sa'nok - Mother txampay'eylan - Even though you are a warrior in the eyes of the clan. Ao'nung doesn't show you the same respect as he does you twin, Neteyam. You have an idea with how to gain his respect and finally get him to see you as the warrior you are.

“Kids, fall in.” Sempul calls. The five of us stand in a line, youngest to oldest, with our hands behind our backs. “I’ve been talking with Tonowari.”

“I swear I‘ve been staying out of trouble like you asked.” Lo’ak says.

“He’s right.” I chime in.

“You’re not in trouble.” Sempul sighs.

”Yet.” Kiri whispers causing the rest of us to giggle.

“As I was saying,” Sempul continues. “Tonowari and I agree that it would be beneficial if the twins and Lo’ak trained his kids

“But they are already warriors.” Neteyam chimes in. “What could we teach them?”

“The war tactics I’ve taught you both. Remember they don’t know what it’s like to go to war against the sky people.” Sempul answers.

“So I get to beat up Ao’nung without getting in trouble?” I smile while cracking my knuckles. “Sounds good to me.”

“Actually things have already been arranged. “ Sempul tells us.

“Kiri, Tuk, and I will train in healing with Ronal. Y/N you will train Tsireya.” sa’nok explains. “The boys will train Roxto and Ao’nung. Your father will meet with Tonowari to think of ways to protect the reefs from the tawtute.”

“But I want to learn to fight.” Tuk whines. “I want to be a mighty warrior like the twins.”

“I know babygirl,” Sempul says, kneeling to her height. “But you’re too young to fight and we need as many healers as we can get.”

“If you’re up for it I can teach you something after training.” I smiled at her.

“See now you can hangout with all your favorite women.” Sa’nok tells her.

“Now that everything is settled,” Sempul announces. “Let’s eat!”

“Great,” Lo’ak says patting his stomach, “I’m hungry.”

“Sempul, do they know that we start training at 5 in the morning?” I ask sitting between Neteyam and Kiri.

“Yes, so don’t be late.” he answers.

________________________________________________________

“Lo’ak.” I whiper. “Lo’ak wake up.”

“Five more minutes.” he mumbles and turns over.

“We have to go.” Neteyam tells him. When he still doesn’t move Neteyam throws him over his shoulder. “Alright let’s go.”

When we arrive at the clan leader’s mauri all three teens are standing in front. I smile and hold my hands up to Roxto and Tsireya.

“Good morning txampay’eylan.” I beam.

“Good morning.” Tsireya smiles, putting her hand against mine.

“Hello.” Roxto yawns, putting his hand up to my other one.

“No good morning for me?” Ao’nung pouts.

“Hey skxawng.” I say without a smile.

“Be nice.” Neteyam tells me as he puts Lo’ak down. “You all have passed the first test. Waking up on time.”

“Same can’t be said for Lo’ak.” Tsireya giggles.

“She’s right.” I laugh poking Lo’ak. “You look like you’re going to fall over.

“Whatever.” he says stretching. “I’ll wake up after our run.”

“I don’t understand what we could possibly learn from you.” Ao’nung growls. “This will be a waste of my time.”

“Do I need to remind you that my brothers and I kicked you and your friends asses.” I growl getting in Ao’nung’s face. “You even had an extra person and still lost.”

“You want to go a round?” Ao’nung challenges. “One on one.”

“Y/N, you know what dad said,” Neteyam says in a warning tone, “We need to teach not to fight for no reason.”

“I can teach him by messing up that pretty face.” I hiss.

“So you think I’m pretty?” he smirks.

Before I can do anything Neteyam pulls me away. He’s always been able to keep my head clear.

“You’re lucky.” I hissed, going back to my twin’s side. “What’s the plan Neteyam?”

“There’s a small forest we can run through. I'm thinking about running for half and hour.” he starts. “Then we can swim for the other half. We can get practice in the water and they can get endurance in.”

“We already know how to run and swim.” Ao’nung comments.

“Ao’nung.” Tsireya scolds. “Listen.”

“After that Ao’nung, Roxto, Lo’ak and I will spar while you teach Tsireya the basics.” he finishes. “Sound like a plan?”

“Let’s get to it.” I beam. “Last one to the tiny forest is a rotten egg.”

As I dash off I can hear my brothers trying to explain the meaning. It feels so good to run around in this small forest. It might not be home but it’s wonderful. The sand is turning to mud and there’s even a few trees to swing from.

“Look at her go.” Tsireya smiles.

“Woo hooo.” I holler as I swing from another tree. “Keep up slow pokes.”

It feels like it went too fast. Neteyam was yelling for me to say it’s time for a swim. The ocean is beautiful but not as much as the forest.

“Watch this.” Tsireya signs.

She swims behind a fish and taps it. The startled creature puffs up 3 times its size. I couldn’t hold in a laugh and had to swim to the surface. The others join me.

“Are you okay?” Lo’ak asks.

“Yes.” I nod. “Hey let’s race.”

“You’re on.” Lo’ak laughs diving in.

“Come on everyone.” I smile then follow after Lo’ak.

Soon we’re done swimming and go to dry off on the beach. The boys leave me and Tsireya to spar.

“Alright, I’m sure you know the basics so we’ll start with defense.” I told her. “How does that sound?”

“You’re the teacher.” she replies.

Once we’re dry we stand in a defensive position.

“Okay, I’m going to tackle you and start punching.” I told her. “Your goal is to get me off. Got it?”

“Yes.” she answers.

I run at full speed and tackle her. Instantly she puts her arms over her face as I start gently punching her. I want her to be able to fight but that doesn’t mean I want to hurt her. She tries to flip me off but I clamp my thighs around her stomach.

“Don’t be afraid to take a punch if it means you can get the upper hand.” I tell her. “This isn;t about being nice it’s about surving.”

Tsireya moves over her arms and grabs my wrist. She bites me and while I’m distracted rolls over so I’m in the sand. Then she’s punching on me.

“Haha forest freak bit it.” I hear Ao’nung laugh.

I yank Tsireya’s tail and throw her off of me. I made a beeline for Ao’nung. He’s been testing me all day. But before I can reach him a force knocks me into the sand. I look up and find Neteyam above me.

”Get off of me.” I growl. “He’s been testing me all day.”

“No, I won’t let you get us in any more trouble.” he tells me. “Mawey or I won’t let you go.”

“This is stupid.” I huff. “I’m calm.”

“I think that’s enough training for today.” Neteyam announces as he gets off of me.

“Ngaytxoa for throwing you in the sand.” I say kneeling in front of Tsireya.

“It’s okay.” she smiles, lifting me up by my arm. “Come. We can go finish our new tops.”

___________________________________________________________

“So how was training?” father asks.

“I want to fight Ao’nung.” I announce.

“What have I told -”

“A fair fight. I will ask permission from his parents.” I interrupt. “He knows I am a warrior but he doubts my abilities.”

There’s a pause as my parents look at each other. They have a silent conversation before nodding at each other.

“Alright, come on everyone.” Father sighs. “If you’re going to do this, we do it now and leave it behind. Understand?”

“Yes sir.” I say trying to hold back a smile.

My father leads the family to the olo’eyktan and his family.

“What is it Jake Sully?” he asks humorously “It seems like you can never stay away.”

“My daughter wishes to ask something of you.” he says, stepping aside so I can come forward.

“Oel ngati kameie, Olo’eyktan Tonowari. Oel ngati kameie, Tsahìk Ronal.” I say bringing my fingers to my forehead. “I wish to ask your permission to fight your son, Ao’nung.”

“What is the meaning of this?” Ronal questions. “Your family seeks uturu and you ask this of us.”

“Back in the Omatikaya clan I completed my iknimaya and became a warrior. I have become a skilled fighter and warrior like my parents. My father has trained me for years so that I can be the next Toruk Makto.” I answered kneeling in front of the clan leaders. “I do not mean this out of disrespect. I want to show Ao’nung that I am a great warrior. I also would like to show my strength to you both. I will follow any rules that are put in place for the fight should you approve.”

“She wants to fight you.” I hear Tonowari say. He must be talking to his son. “What is your response.”

“I accept.” he answers.

“Stand Sully child.” Ronal says. I stand and look at them both. “Go home and prepare. You both will spar in three hours.”

“Thank you.” I say looking at the clan leaders then turn to Ao’nung. “I look forward to our fight.”

Our parents go back to the mauri while my siblings and I on the edge of the doc. They want to give me a pep talk and some advice.

“Remember to keep a level head.” Neteyam says, placing his hand atop my head. “You are a great fighter but you tend to forget tactics when you're angry.”

“I will bother.” I smile, putting my hand on his. “I hope I will make you all proud.”

“You’re going to be amazing.” Tuk smiles.

“Make sure to use the surroundings like dad taught us.” Kiri says worriedly. “And make sure to keep guard of your important organs.”

“You worry too much sis.” Lo’ak beams while playfully nudging her. “Y/N is definitely going to kick his ass.”

——————————————————————————————————

A decent sized group has formed to watch our fight. I guess when the chef’s son is being challenged to a fight is major news. We face our father’s so they can tell us the rules.

“Toruk Makto and I have discussed what you both know about battle and have come up with only one rule.” the chef starts.

“No weapons allowed.” dad announces.

“What about breaking bones?” Ao’nung asks.

“Scared?” I smirk.

“I just want to know how much I need to hold back,” he responds.

“Give it all you got.” Tonowari tells us. “You are both strong fighters. Strong and determined. No need to hold back.”

“To make sure you follow the only rule you will give us your weapons.” father says.

We give our knives to our fathers then face each other. I sign that I see you to him but he doesn’t do the same. He’s getting under my skin by the clear show of disrespect. I must remember what Neteyam told me. Keep a level head. I take a deep breath and get into a fighting stance, Ao’nung does the same.

“Begin!” Tonowari yells.

Immediately, Ao’nung comes charging at me. I move out of the way and kick his back so he falls in the sand. I jump on his back and bite between his shoulder and neck. He grunts in pain and manages to shake me off. Then he’s on top of me punching me in the face. I try to wiggle out of his hold but he’s not letting up. I can feel my nose starting to bleed. I have to get him off me.

‘Make sure to use the surroundings like dad taught us.’ I remember Kiri telling me.

I pick up a fist full of sand and throw it in his face. While he’s coughing I flip us over one more. I shove another fistfull of sand in his face, grab both of his hands in mine, then start punching his face.

“Give up.” I pant as my fist crunches against his nose.

“N-no.” he breathes and tries kicking me off.

I elbow him in the stomach, knocking the wing out of him then stand up. As I raise my foot to stomp down on him he holds up his hands.

“Stop.” he gasps. “I give up.”

I hear mixed reactions. I hear my family celebrating my victory along with some approval of the other warriors. Tonowari looks shocked but gives a nod in approval while Ronal looks horrified as well as Tsireya. I look at Kiri and she nods to Ao’nung. She is signaling for me to help him. So I hold out my hand.

“I said you win.” he grunts trying to get up.

“Let me patch you up.” I offer. “You are hurt and I can ahelp.”

“Why?” he questions. “Is winning not enough. You must embarrass me by caring for me?”

“My sister and grandmother have taught me how to be gentle and helpful.” I say slinging his arm around my shoulder. I look at Ronal and bow my head. “If you will allow it I will patch up Ao’nung.”

“You are a strange child.” is all she told me.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I’m sorry.” Ao’nung says to me. “I didn’t realize how skilled you were.”

“Everyone can learn something. Even my baby sister, Tuk, teaches me the wonder of life everyday.” I responded. “You just have to be willing to learn and listen.”

“Y/N.” Ao’nung says, taking my hand and looking me in the eyes.. “Oel ngati kameie.”

[wouldyoustilllovemeifiwasawyrm]

Wind and rain stung like Courser bees. Face-first into the heart of a storm, launched at stomach-churning speeds into the gray skies. Tunic and trousers soaked through, catching every droplet between the earth and clouds. His heart and stomach switched places, momentum giving way to a lurching drop.

Wind snapped the fabric of his glider, his fingers gripping tightly the leather-wrapped handles, slick in the torrent.

And yet, a softness.

Rain gave way to pools of suspended water, so fluffy from below, so immaterial between his fingers, trailing like frozen wisps of steam, dyed pink from above.

A glow ahead, a signal of hope in the damp grayness of the world around him. He tilted his glider to the north, catching the updraft she created.

Worn leather boots landed on hard scales, shifting with eternal muscles below, weaving her slow pattern, marking the boundary of their homeland.

“Hello, Zel.” Link greeted softly, leaning to place a kiss on the glowing horn that curled around the side of her golden mane. “Sorry it’s been a while. You’re a hard girl to track.”

The light dragon made no response, though Link liked to imagine that she would smile, if her jaw were made to do so.

He started down his habitual path, careful not to slip on her damp scales, or else to make the task more difficult by dripping excessively on her. One step at a time, watching the placement of his feet to avoid an unfortunate tumble. Not that he worried too much about it. A slip was more of an inconvenience than a disaster. The gale would lift him back up to her again.

At each shimmering spike, he paused, inspecting the base for cracks and shards. While he found a few scattered on the surface in his earliest travels, he doubted waiting for the loose pieces to fall off naturally was very comfortable for her. He knelt down where the spike met the base of her scales, tugging loose pieces that chipped off partially, lodged between ridged scales.

“You’ll never guess what took me so long to get here.” Link said, leaving the first spike and heading down toward the second. One boot in front of the other. “I ran into our old friend Master Kohga. He was building some ultimate weapon or some such nonsense underneath Rito Village.” Another shard pocketed, a particularly large one. The shifting of her scales told him that it had been bothering her. “I had to chase him all over the Depths. He saw right through my Yiga disguise when I tried to sneak up on him. Can you believe that?” He held onto the spike, using it as leverage to spin around and face toward her horns again. “I think it’s because I’m short. What do you think?”

He'd interpret the nodding point of her long nose as an affirmative.

“Well, anyway, I handled him quickly.” Link continued, on to the next spike. “Not that he stood any chance. No one does against your great and mighty hero!” He chuckled to himself, carefully wiggling one jammed scale out where it had grown sideways. “Wow, this one probably hurts like hell.” With one final tug, the scale came loose in his hand. A shimmer of light skittered over the surface of the nearby scales, the small gap in her armor closing. That scale too went into his bag. He might make a potion out of it, or affix it to an arrow for a little extra stopping power.

“But, you know, the other Yiga didn’t seem to recognize me. Remember me telling you about sneaking into their base?” He plucked a splinter from the top of one of the spikes, having to stretch on the tips of his toes to reach it. “The- hhmph! – The Yiga have this earthwake ability thing. Really weird. They taught me how to do it once I passed their blademaster test. I’ll have to show you sometime.”

His foot slid on a slippery scale, his heart leaping into his throat as he fell, grabbing hold of the pointed scales near the base of her spikes to keep himself from sliding right off the side. With a grunt, he pulled himself back up, his fingers aching with the effort of holding on. He sat down beside the spike to regain his bearings. “Well, that was embarrassing. Promise not to tell anyone?”

His princess did not answer. Not that he expected her to gossip to anyone about him. She wasn’t that kind of girl.

He got back up, quickly counting the remaining spikes. Not too many. Her tail didn’t often have that many problems, the shards breaking and falling more easily on that end. It was between the shoulders that gathered the most shards, building up like rubble at the base of a mountain.

“You’ll be pleased to know that the kids are learning about the Calamity.” Link hopped around one large spike and onto the narrow tail. “Symin’s doing a great job with them. I showed them a photo of that old tapestry from Impa’s place. Sefaro thought the depiction of Ganon was really cool. And despite me telling him that it was very much not that cool in person-“ He smiled, shaking his head. “-well, I guess I can’t blame him. If I was hearing about a massive glowing boar the size of Dueling Peaks, I’d probably think it was cool based on that description alone.”

A quick look over the final spike that ended her tail revealed no issues that required his attention. Back up to the front, then. “Legends are always so much better than reality, aren’t they? Who know what they’ll say in a hundred years about you and I. The wild hero, wandering the plains and mountains, driven mad by the second loss of his princess. And the princess, wow!” He blew his wet bangs out of his face. “Turning herself into a dragon as an act of devotion to her people? That’s a thousand times cooler than anything her hero could do. She’s the real star of the story. He’s just some guy who flings himself into the heavens to talk to her.”

He watched his feet more carefully this time, avoiding the scale he’d slipped on before. “There are still rumors out there about you. Penn and I have been going around to the different stables trying to figure out which ones were worthwhile. Of course, I didn’t tell him that you’re, you know, up here. Impa said it was best to keep the whole dragon thing a secret. She told me to beat the Demon King first, since he’s a more immediate threat. She said you’ve been here for thousands of years, and we’d have plenty of time to work on bringing you back down to the surface.”

Ooh, he missed one. It would have fallen off anyway in a strong breeze, but he’d rather be safe than sorry. “What she doesn’t know is that I’m going to keep his secret stone. If we can’t figure out how to get you home, I’m going to swallow it, like you did.” He climbed between her horns, sitting on her soft mane and letting the warm updraft dry him off. “I have no idea how you did that without any water or anything.” He had a brief thought about what else she must have been able to swallow, but kept that one to himself. “So, yeah. If we can’t bring you down, I’m coming up. Haven’t told anyone yet. They’d probably try to stop me.”

He laid down, his sword pressing into his back as he stared up at the stars. His fingers curled around fistfuls of her soft, glowing fur. “I don’t know if I’d remember anything once I was a dragon. But, hey, what else is new? I lost my memory once and found my way back to you. I can do it again. We could fly around forever, hold claws, spend all of eternity lighting up the night sky together.” He took a deep breath, a smile on his face. “I don’t know if dragons talk to each other. I guess we don’t have to. It’d be enough just to be with you. I’d never have to go back to the surface again. Hyrule would be safe, and we’d be together.”

He rolled onto his side, watching the glint of the moonlight on her pronged horns. “I wouldn’t do that right away, though. I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to bring you back. Draconification is just my back-up plan. When it looks like I’m going down for good, I’ll swallow the stone. I’ll get someone to shove it down my throat, if need be. Life without you is bad enough. I don’t want to slip into the beyond without you too. I love you, Zelda.”

Maybe he imagined it, but he thought her glow go a little brighter.

He sat back up, digging into his bag. “That reminds me, I got something for you.” From his bag, he pulled out a partially-squished floral wreath, dotted with Silent Princesses. “It’s not quite a crown fit for a princess, but it’s what I could afford. The kids at Kakariko made it.” He set it down carefully on her head, between the bases of her horns. A gust of wind picked up one side of it, almost tossing it off into the sky. “Ah!” Link caught the wreath before it blew entirely away. “Hm. That’s not going to work.”

He stood, looking around. Carefully weaving the wreath between the prongs on her horns, Link barely got the crown to sit, a little lopsided, on her left horn. “There. Now it won’t blow away!” He placed a gentle kiss on her horn before sitting back down. “Let’s see, what else have I been up to? I think I told you about the Yiga pretending to be you, right? They got it almost right. From a distance, the double they had was pretty accurate. But she wasn’t as pretty as you up close. It was enough to fool a few people, but I’d never be so easily taken in. Granted, I knew where you were the whole time.” He ran his fingers through her mane, stroking her soft fur.

“Poor Penn almost pitched a fit when I said I wasn’t interested in chasing the lead. Said it was our duty as reporters to sniff out every story. It wasn’t like I could tell him that I knew it wasn’t you up on the mountain. He’d ask how I knew that, and then I’d have to explain the whole dragon thing, and then that’d get put into the paper, and who knows how Hyrule would react to that. So, it was easier just to let myself get caught in a Yiga trap and deal with that then have to manage the implosion of Hyrule’s faith.” He shrugged. “I’ll leave Impa to deal with that fallout when I join you up here for good.”

The moon overhead shone brightly, a scratch of darkness hiding part of its cratered face. The last time he’d been up here, there’d been no moon at all. “Sometimes I wonder what you’d do, if our roles were switched. I wouldn’t expect you to launch yourself into the sky for me. That’d be dangerous. You’d do better to live your life on the surface without me. I hope you’d marry, and have kids, and be the absolutely incredible queen that I know you’ll be someday. And, if you looked up every now and then and remembered me, that’d be enough.” He closed his eyes, feeling the cool breeze on the trails of saltwater that escaped down his cheeks. “I hope you’d be happy. And that your life would be easy and gentle. You deserve that.”

The dragon, as always, made no reply.

[henrys-wee-hen]

No-one Fucks With The Lobos - Chapter 26

I am SO sorry this took so long! Life has been a little zany, but I finally found a couple of hours to sit and get this out. Enjoy!

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48070186/chapters/127072828

Keeping my head clear was one thing when I was at home, in Teddy’s apartment, surrounded by things that I understood and felt comfortable with. But being in the Lobo mansion, surrounded by Teddy’s thugs and Bellafrancesca’s men... the atmosphere felt explosive, and not in a good way. But I needed to remember that I wasn’t the person I was before.

I didn’t know who the fuck I was, to be honest, but there was little I could do about it.

The most I could do was prepare myself for the worst, where Rebecca would be half-dead. And so, that’s what I did. I imagined Rebecca in the worst positions, half-dead, skin flayed off, bloodied and gored and hurting real bad. I went over the top, letting my thoughts run as wild as I dared. It worked, because as Teddy led me down the long corridor towards the office I knew so well.

When we went inside, Rebecca was sitting on a sofa. Sure, there were two men either side of her, with their guns casually-trained on her temples, fingers ready on the trigger, safety off… and she was calm. Completely calm. What I couldn’t see were the deep bruises from where Mandy Lobo had done a number on her. But I was about to learn.

“Ah! Teddy, (Y/N),” Bellafrancesca smiled. She embraced Teddy, kissing his cheeks before turning to me and doing the same. I let her. It felt natural. Even if I remembered her being against the wedding… or had she been? Had she disliked me? Had I imagined that?

I shook it off – I couldn’t think about that now. Teddy had told me to blow his mind. And with Rebecca sat there, I had to think about that, and only that. How to blow his mind.

“Didn’t think I’d see you in our midst again, Officer!” Teddy beamed, moving to the drinks cart. He poured out two glasses, returning to me with one. “Rum, baby. Watered down. It’ll settle your stomach a bit.” He smiled at me, only this time, it was warm and gentle. I smiled up at him. I hated no longer knowing what he wanted from me… but then, had I ever?

“Thank you, Teddy,” I said gently. He kissed my cheek, and guided me to one of the armchairs.

“You are unwell, (Y/N)?” Bellafrancesca looked at me with concern. I shook my head.

“No. I just ate something that didn’t quite agree with me, that’s all.” I sipped the rum. Teddy was right; it did help. It also soothed my nerves a bit, too. Rebecca was glaring at me, unblinking. The faint redness of a fresh beating lined her cheekbone and eye socket. I pressed my lips together as Teddy perched himself on the arm of my chair, leaning back, his hand resting behind me. If we’d been on the sofa, it would have been an arm around my shoulders.

“Rebecca here would like to know what happened to (Y/N).” Bellafrancesca gestured towards me. As the room turned to me, I realised it was a test of loyalty. A test of how suicidal I was, I guess. Only I knew Teddy would be the one to kill me if I did the wrong thing. Whatever the fuck that actually was. I sipped my drink.

“Well, Rebecca, you can see I’m perfectly fine,” I smiled. “A little ill, today, but otherwise fine.” I cleared my throat, and sipped my drink again.

“You went… missing for… months…” Rebecca breathed. It was obvious now why she was so still. If she breathed too hard, it would hurt potentially broken ribs.

“I did. And I told them to tell you – the FBI, I mean. The team who told me to leave.” I looked at her. In my peripheral, I saw Teddy relax a little. Okay, right footing… “But I guess they didn’t.” I sat forward. “I guess I can tell her the truth now, right, baby?” I looked up at Teddy, and he gestured with his glass to Rebecca.

“Go right ahead.”

I took a breath. Rebecca’s eyes had softened.

“You remember the day Katie got shot?” A curt nod. “Well, I saw things from a rival gang in that restaurant that put me in danger. Teddy grabbed me out of there in the chaos, thinking I was one of his people. We only realised when I got into the car. The FBI got involved when they thought it was a hostage situation – and, admittedly, I also thought it was a hostage situation, until we got to the safe house – but we all agreed it would be safer to just talk. So we did. And we learned that the people Katie and I had gone to check out were traffickers and drugs smugglers, but that they wanted my ass for stopping them. And Teddy’s ass, too. Since Teddy had a good knowledge of them, and their rings, and I needed to leave the state until they were stopped, they put us both undercover over in Florida.” I licked my lips. It was easy, lying like that. Inventing a story that could have happened, if I believed it hard enough. Because what was the alternative? I tell her he kidnapped me, kept me in his little torture chamber and I fell in love with him? I sipped my drink. Teddy placed a hand on the nape of my neck, massaging those tight spots lightly. It felt really good.

“And then what?” Rebecca breathed, wincing.

“And then… I got to know him. I got to see other sides of him, Rebecca.” I swapped my glass into my other hand and reached up for Teddy’s hand. He gave it to me, and I kissed it. “I got to see a different Teddy. A soft, gentle Teddy. Someone who can handle an entire empire without blinking…” I looked up at him. “Someone who can juggle things and people and business and money, and be on coke withdrawal, and still manage to thrive.” He smiled at me. “And I fell. I fell pretty fucking hard for him.” I looked at Rebecca. “That… and the tattoos really fucking helped.” I finished my drink and Teddy took the glass from me as I stood. “See, Rebecca… all the shit you made me believe about the Lobos… yet their reach is huge. Their empire is unrivalled. And I don’t know anything or anyone that can top it. They’re powerful, but they care for each other. And Teddy wanted me by his side. How could I say no? When he’d kept me safe for months in another state? Not knowing what was happening over here?”

“So you’re a… criminal… too?” Rebecca said quietly.

“Maybe I am. But Teddy made some sacrifices for me, too.” I stood in front of her. “Like his drugs. He got clean for me. And gave up seeing other people, too. Remained faithful.” I bit my lip. “Married me without a prenup, too. What’s his is mine, what’s mine is his… even though he’s brought far more to the relationship than I ever could.” I linked my fingers in front of me. “But Rebecca… we were fighting a war we had no chance of winning. We were like Belgium in World War 1, taking dogs pulling canons into battle because they refused to prepare because they didn’t want to fight.”

“They… killed… my father –“

“And your father killed Ritchie Lobo.” I pressed my lips together. “But you always leave that part of the fucking story out.” I glared back at her. “As far as I’m concerned, Rebecca, it’s even. Your father killed Ritchie, so they killed your father. Eye for a eye. And sure, that eventually makes the world blind, but only if you keep fighting.” I crouched down in front of her. “You lost, Rebecca. We lost. We lost well before we even started. I just learned that and put my weapons down and embraced the flow.” I placed a hand gently on her knee. “I really suggest you do the same. Join us, Rebecca. Join me. Because unless you’re willing to take on the entire southern USA…” I trailed off. She looked down, and then back at me. Something in her was about to break.

“And if I don’t?” Her lips barely moved enough to form the words.

“If you don’t… then we’ll give you no other choice.” I smiled at her sadly. Perhaps it was all an act. But no-one had stopped me, yet. “And I don’t mean we’ll kill you. That would be too kind. You already know too much, Rebecca. What I’ve told you today, you could use that to help the police stop us. Even the FBI wanted to look at the books… but they left us alone when they got another crime empire. A lesser one, but an empire nonetheless.”

“Then what…” Rebecca couldn’t finish her sentence. The pain, whatever they’d done to her, was too great.

“What will we do to you?” A small nod. “Sweetheart… we’ll keep you suspended in a world somewhere between life and death. And all you’ll know…” I ran my hand up her leg, finding a tender spot (she winced). “Is pain.” I pressed, and Rebecca recoiled, screaming. But the scream hurt her ribs, and she gasped as waves of pain unlike anything she’d probably ever felt washed over her. But even as she writhed away, I kept my hand there, pressing against the torn muscle beneath her skin.

It was official, then. The part of me that had been human was dead. Replaced with this Teddy-pleasing Lobo monster.

Rebecca’s face contorted in pain as she succumbed, almost. I kneeled up and took her face.

“Come on, sweetheart, take it. You’re strong, aren’t you?” I patted her cheek, and she looked at me side-eye. She was clammy, sweaty, trying to calm her breathing. “You can’t win this, sweetheart. We can heal you, and we can bring you to a point far beyond this… over and over again…” I smiled at her sadly. “I don’t want to do that to you. Not when you can just so easily end all this and do the normal thing.” I brushed her hair back from her forehead. “And you’ll be above even those assholes at the precinct who always shot you down for having ambition. There’s a ladder to climb here. Ambition with us gets you places… ambition with that lot gets you stamped out.” I turned, looking for a soft cloth. Brice handed me one. Damp. I thanked him as I pressed it against Rebecca’s forehead. “I don’t handle anything criminal, Rebecca. I don’t hurt people, I don’t kill people. I do charity work. Loco Lobos is the brainchild of me and Teddy. VillaLobos, the dog rescue – that’s now funded by us, too. There’s so much good you can do with us, Rebecca. But it’s your choice to make, darling. Join us, or suffer until your poor heart gives out.” Rebecca nodded. I don’t think she knew what she was nodding for, but she nodded. I wiped the rest of her face, then put the cloth resting across her forehead. She closed her eyes and succumbed properly to the pain. And then, I stood.

I turned, and Teddy appraised me.

“Well,” he murmured, pulling me to him by a bit of fabric on my jacket that he could reach. “I didn’t think you had that in you. My little liar…”

“Was it a lie, Teddy?” I asked softly. I took hold of the lapels of his jacket. “Was it all a lie?” I leaned in close. “Because the only lie I told was that the FBI was involved, and that we were in Florida… everything else was entirely true.” I kissed the hollow of his jaw, and he took my face and kissed me properly.

“We’ll discuss it later,” he murmured, stroking my cheek.

“Take Officer Quincy to the medical wing,” Bellafrancesca said. “Make sure she has the care she needs.” The men nodded and picked Rebecca up. “As for you, (Y/N). I hope you will join us for dinner tonight?” Teddy’s hand rested on the small of my back as he stood beside me.

“I’d love to,” I said softly. “And… and I was thinking. I know we didn’t see eye to eye in the beginning…” I swallowed. “But I’d like… I…” I looked down. Teddy had said blow his mind. I looked up, stepping towards Bellafrancesca. “I’d like to call you mom, if you’d let me? Since I don’t really have a mom present here…” I played with my fingers, twisting my rings around my finger. Bellafrancesca’s face contorted into something of wonder and a smile and sadness. And then she enveloped me into a tight hug.

“I thought you would never ask,” she murmured, holding me tightly. What I didn’t see was the little look she exchanged behind my back to Teddy. But I stepped back when she let me go. “How proud I am to see how far you have come, (Y/N). Into our family. Finally.” The emphasis on that ‘finally’… she’d been waiting for my total submission for a while, then. She took my face in her hands and grinned. “Finally, a true Lobo.”

“Thank you… mom.” I smiled at her, and I swear, tears welled up in her eyes. “I hope I can continue to make you proud.” She let me go, and I turned to Teddy.

“We should go, mom. But we’ll come back tonight for dinner, sure.” He took my hand in his. “You need anything else with Quincy or no?”

“Rebecca will be quite alright in our care. But if we struggle to convince her of our work, I will let you know.” Bellafrancesca kissed us both, Teddy still holding my hand. But his grip wasn’t tight and controlling. It was gentle. Just… holding hands. Just that.

“Alright. See you later.”

We left, and Teddy and I strolled through the corridors of the mansion to the exit, where I promptly felt my legs buckle. And I guess Teddy had expected it, because he caught me before I could hit the floor and take a tumble down the stairs. He held me up, encasing me entirely with his body. I pushed my face into his chest. That smell, the smell of him, of his cologne but also just of him… the smell that lingered behind the cologne, the smell that I’d woken up with and fallen asleep with… it was secure, grounding. Soothing. He ran his palm up and down my back, murmuring random sweet nothings.

“You good, baby?” I looked up at him, pushing back so I could lean against the wall.

“Well?” I asked, my voice surprisingly strong. “Did I succeed?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did I blow your little mind?” Teddy laughed, shaking his head as he swiped his thumb across his lower lip. Pushing his other hand into his pocket, he stepped forward and leaned against the wall, covering me with his body.

“You did.” His voice a growl, he looked down at me. “I didn’t expect you to hurt your little friend… I thought you might just spin some fucking tale… but you did a little more than that… how did you know she was hurting there, though?”

“She moved away from my hand a little bit. It was barely there, but she moved. I took a chance.” I looked up at him, feeling sick that I wanted his approval for this.

“And it paid off… she was ready to join us then and there…” he grinned down at me. “See, (Y/N), if we get Quincy to join us…” he dipped his head a little lower. “Then the world truly does belong to us…” He kissed me softly, chastely.

“And if the world belongs to us, we can do so much good.” I took the lapels of his jacket and smiled up at him hopefully. “I hope that still stands.”

“Course it does. The charity shit’s making bag. You were right.” He kissed me again, nuzzling my neck. “And before you fucking ask, you can still stay away from hurting people. Except Quincy. I might need you to step up again.”

“Well, she probably hates me after today anyway.” I rested my head back against the wall, sighing softly as Teddy continued to touch all the spots that usually got me going. “Teddy – n-not here –“

“Then let’s go home.” I squealed as he picked me up in a bridal carry and made light work of the steps. I often forgot how strong he’d become since he’d come off the coke. Because he had come off the coke – no-one had laughed at that when I’d said it. He was genuinely clean. And I supposed he planned to stay that way. Maybe the mental sharpness he had was nice for him… it was certainly nice for me, anyway.

Teddy set me down by the car, opening the door for me. Once I was inside, he slid over the hood of the car and turned gracefully, climbing in himself.

“Sexy,” I chuckled.

“Well, when your ball and chain’s being a fucking cock tease…” He turned the car on and threw it into drive before he’d even put his seatbelt on.

“So I’m a ball and chain, now?”

“Gilded handcuffs, then.”

“I’ll be an open road if you keep your end of the bargain, Teddy.”

As he turned onto the main highway, he surprisingly didn’t burn off with little regard for traffic law. I relaxed my naturally tight grip on the doorhandle, and looked at him.

“I made you a fucking promise, (Y/N). I intend to keep it, if you’re worried.”

“I am, a bit.”

“You don’t fucking trust me anymore?!”

“I… I do… just –“

“Fucking trust me, baby. I made a promise to you. You blow my mind in there, and I tell you what happened.” He pulled up to a stop light and turned to me properly. “But I’m going to fuck your brains dumb before I say a fucking word, sweetheart. And then I’m going to fucking feed you… and then I’ll tell you everything. I promise.”

“And if you don’t?”

“If I don’t, then you know how to make me fucking talk, don’t you?” He grinned at me wolfishly. I sighed. “But since I like my fucking skin intact, I’m gonna tell you.”

“You just need a clear head and empty balls first, I guess.”

“Look at you,” he purred, as the light turned green. “You know me so well.”

[larissa-the-scribe]

Terrarium Lights 3.3

Previously on Terrarium Lights: Gail found the ghost. The ghost had found.... some kind of an answer. Maybe. (Next part >>here)

"I… I see," Gail replied, not seeing.

"That's most everything I know," Samu—no, Jonathan—admitted. "As I found those reports, and looked around the city, I did remember bits and pieces. And I think… somehow… the operation did work and did not work at the same time. I… I would definitely classify the weird places that I remember going to as something unlike anything from here, that I’ve seen, and you didn't seem familiar with any of it, either. But… well… when I accidentally lit the lightbulb back at your place, I remembered, vaguely, a kind of blazing, blinding light, and being in agony."

"Oh. Sorry to hear that." A distant part of Gail wondered if either she or Jon—Samuel were going quite mad. This conversation was so normal despite its departure from all familiar wisdom. But also, she was talking to a ghost, and she wasn't sure if that made her more mad or less. At least in relation to discussing different worlds. "So… you said you found your body?"

"Oh, right. Well, the records indicated that the test was held at the lighthouse, six years ago. And I remembered the lighthouse. When we went to the church and I saw it, I knew I remembered it. So… I finally worked up the courage to come here. Just a couple days ago, in fact. I… I haven’t been sleeping at all,” he added, as if self-consciously. “I don’t seem to need to."

"And… your body was here from six years ago?"

He shook his head. "More recent. I don't know how recent."

"A few weeks ago, maybe?"

"That was the impression I got."

"How… how does it look?" Hopefully the lad hadn't gotten too traumatized.

"Well, I have a theory," he said, playing with the buttons on his vest. "I can't feel the cut on my shoulder, right? Well, my body is wearing pretty much the same clothes as me, except that there's a patch over the shoulder. So I think it must have been healed and my shirt fixed. So I appear to you as I arrived here in this world, but my perception of myself has changed along with my original body.” He paused, looking down at his vest and away from her eyes. “Which… I-I was planning on going back and talking to you, I really was… I just… didn't know how. And I felt bad about the terrarium breaking."

"O-oh. You have been through a lot, so it would take time to process." Gail reached out to pat him, stopped, then shook her head, as if by rattling the thoughts around in her head more physically they would make sense. "I beg your pardon, are you saying that the only thing that's noticeably different about your body is that your shoulder isn't hurt?"

"What should be different?" Jonathon asked after a long pause.

"Well, because, you know." She gestured at him vaguely, making an effort to keep her voice from rising at her general befuddlement. "You're, well… dead."

"Oh, right." He tugged on his vest. "I guess I forgot that, too. Forgot to tell you, I mean. I'm… well, I’m actually still alive."

"You're… still alive?" Gail certainly felt she ought to be pleased at this, but instead she just found herself more confused than anything. "But… aren't you a ghost?"

"I will be honest," Jonathon said, shifting on the dirt, "I don't quite understand it myself. I thought I was a ghost, too. But if I go in there, I can see myself, looking just like myself, but… physical, and lying on what looks like a sickbed. There's a bowl of water nearby, and a towel on my forehead, and once when I went in there was a doctor. But… well… I can go into places and look through papers and find things out and all that, but… I can't… talk to people." He looked down at his hands. "They don't see or hear me. And… there's still a lot I don't know. I don't really know who Samuel is, though he was my friend. I don't really know who Jonathon is, even though I found my name and my body. I don't know why I'm still at the lighthouse, and I don't know if I have any family anywhere. I don't know why I'm sick and lying there and why I'm out here, too, at the same time. I was… I didn't want to have to ask more of you… but… I think I was also delaying going to see you because… well, I needed to go back and apologize and talk to you. But there was more… and… I don't know."

Gail reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. "I know you feel bad about taking my time, but I promise, you can ask me for help whenever you like. I want to give you my time, if that means I can help you. In fact, I was actually out here at the lighthouse because I was looking for you." He looked up at her with wide eyes. "I was worried about you," she said softly.

"O-oh." He blinked, looking from her hand to her face.

"So, to make it as clear as I can: if you want my help, I want to give it to you."

The distant rhythm of the sea filled the moment between them.

"That's… that's extraordinarily kind of you," he finally said, looking back down at the ground. "I… I don't really know what to say in the face of all you've done. I wish I had some way to repay you."

Gail nodded. "I know just the thing you can do to start on that."

He tilted his head to look up at her from the side.

She patted him again. "You can start by telling me what it is that you still need, and then, after I do what I can, and once we figure out how to get you back to your body, you can live a good life. And try and visit Michael and I every now and then."

If he had possessed the physical capacity for producing tears, the rapid blinking and puckering of his eyebrows hinted that there would be a lot of them. "I… I don't feel like that's really a fair form of compensation."

Gail heaved herself off the ground, dusting herself off, front and back. "No, it isn't," she grinned, "but never you mind that. I'm assuming you want me to talk to the folks in there and see what I can learn about you and your condition?"

He nodded. "Thank you."

"You can thank me after I've actually done something," Gail said with a wink, and, double-checking that she hadn't gotten too unpresentably soiled, marched around and in through the front door before she could think twice. She whispered a prayer as she walked through the door.

Previous

Next

[jedibongrip]

title: decaying orbits relationship: anakin/obi-wan rating: T tags: divorce, modern au, still in love warnings: mentions of mental illness, unhealthy relationships, abusive behaviours for full list of warnings/explanation see the ao3 link!!!

summary: Obi-Wan thinks, maybe, he'll always be trapped in Anakin's orbit. Maybe he doesn't mind as much as he should. for @obikin-events bingo prompt: divorce!

read under the cut

The only surprising thing about the phone call is that it’s Leia calling. As soon as Obi-Wan saw her name on the caller ID, he was already searching for his car keys.

“Leia, darling, how are you?” he asked, already knowing that the answer wouldn’t be fantastic, not if she was calling him. There were, after all, limited reasons to be calling one’s ex-stepdad, no matter how many years you spent together. 

Leia sighs. “I’m fine, Obi-Wan. I’m sorry to ask this, but can you come over? Dad’s… not good, again.” 

Not good could mean any number of things. Not good could mean Anakin crashed his car again. Not good could mean Anakin started drinking again. Not good could mean that he’s been fighting and screaming at his kids for days on end. Or that he bought them new phones, a new gaming console, new everything, before he’s paid the utility bill. Not good could mean he hasn’t been home in days. 

“He won’t come out of his room,” Leia continues. It’s hard to say if she knows all the horrible scenarios running through Obi-Wan’s head. “Luke keeps trying to get him to eat but last time he knocked, Dad threw a cup, or something, at the door.”

If he’s not eating, he’s certainly not taking his medication. Obi-Wan sighs. It was so much easier to take care of Anakin back when they lived together, back when he would wake him up with kisses and fill up a glass of water for him to take with his pills. But wasn’t that the problem? That Anakin felt like a patient and Obi-Wan felt like a perpetual caretaker? Wasn’t that the first and last nail in the coffin? 

“Of course, I’ll come over, love,” Obi-Wan says. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Just leave your father be.”

“Luke and I were thinking about going to Mom’s house if you think that’s okay.” Unlike Luke, Leia is never shy when suggesting to go over to Padmé’s and refuses to feel bad about wanting the stability and calm of her house. Anakin used to hate that and got irritated whenever his daughter implied that life was easier when she wasn’t with him. Obi-Wan couldn’t fault her for that.

“I think that might be for the best,” Obi-Wan replies. “Give your mother my love. If you leave before I arrive, remember to lock the door.”

Because, even though it’s been over a year since they divorced, nearly two years since they tried a ‘test separation', Obi-Wan still has a key. 

The drive to Anakin is nearly half an hour and time seems to crawl the closer he gets. When Obi-Wan bought his new place - a lovely, modern condo, full of clean lines and bright colours, so different from the bungalow he bought with Anakin - he stupidly thought that what he needed was space. Space away from Anakin and the wonderful, difficult, painful life they made together. Space away from the late nights wondering where his husband was and space away from the screaming matches and space away from all the resentment that had built up over the years. Mostly, he needed space away from the gentle moments in between the hurt. The soft smiles whenever Obi-Wan brought him coffee in bed, the ‘surprise dates’ that Anakin used to drag him out to, the way Anakin used to say his name like it was a title, pet name, and confession all at once, the hugs underneath the showerhead in the early morning. Despite everything, remembering the soft happiness of those moments washes away the sharp pain of all the others. Right before Obi-Wan signed the papers, he needed to do all that he could to remember the pain, to convince himself to go through with it. He only regrets it a little more than half of the time. 

When he finally pulls up to Anakin’s house (their house, Obi-Wan still sometimes thinks of it as. Like the condo he’s living in now is temporary. Like one day he’ll walk through that front door and never leave again), he sees Luke and Leia sitting on the front curb, both with bulging backpacks by their feet. 

“Hello, darlings,” he greets as he’s walking over. “Your mother is picking you up?”

They nod as Obi-Wan leans down to give them each a quick hug. He misses them terribly and only ever sees them like this, in passing, when one of them has called him to help deal with Anakin. He wishes he managed to patch things up with Padmé, if only for the selfish reason of being invited to all her dinner parties again. The twins hate them and dislike having to dress up and behave properly, but he would give anything to simply eat a meal with them again. To listen to them rambling about whatever high school gossip has caught their fancy. To listen to their jokes and excuses for why they didn't finish their homework on time.

Obi-Wan glances at the house. Only the porch light is on. 

“Do you want me to wait with you?” Obi-Wan asks, slightly hopeful. They glance at each other for a second, before shrugging, scooting over to make space for Obi-Wan to sit next to them. 

Obi-Wan asks them all the questions he used to ask whenever he picked them up from school. Has anything interesting happened? What have they learned? Any new friends?

They dutifully answer each desperate attempt at connection, with minimal sarcasm and snark. It’s only a handful of minutes before Padmé’s sleek SUV stops on the other side of the street, signalling the end of Obi-Wan’s reunion with his the kids. He picks up the backpacks off the pavement and brushes them clean of dirt. Luke and Leia roll their eyes when Obi-Wan holds the bags out to them as if to help them put them on like they’re eight years old again instead of fourteen. They simply grab the straps and fling them over their shoulders. 

Obi-Wan gets a one-armed hug from both before they walk across the street, already bickering about who gets the front seat. Obi-Wan gives a small wave to Padmé, who looks at him with an expression between betrayal and pity. He supposes he deserves it. He gives a small wave and receives a half-hearted one in return. The doors to her car fly open as the kids clamber inside, and her face breaks into a smile so bright that it hurts to look at.

Obi-Wan turns to look at the dark house, which also hurts to look at. With nothing to delay him any further, he makes his way to the door. He gives a huff of annoyance when he finds it unlocked - either the twins really don’t listen to a single thing he says or they knew he would arrive before their mother. 

The path to Anakin’s room feels well-worn and familiar as Obi-Wan walks it, though he does cringe at leaving his shoes on. He flicks the lights on as he walks, taking a moment to assess his surroundings. Everything is slightly messier than Obi-Wan would prefer, but nothing seems disastrously broken or out of place. None of the appliances look freshly bought and Obi-Wan doesn’t see any excessive packaging littering the floors. It’s all a good sign, but it doesn’t tell Obi-Wan much about how Anakin is doing.

Anakin’s door is closed. Obi-Wan hesitates for a second, as he always does when the kids call him. Everything in him wants to fling open the door, to march in and to hold his ex-husband and never let go. Because no number of fights or cups are thrown at his head, snide remarks about his age and hobbies, or paranoid accusations of cheating could ever overwrite the love he has for Anakin. How could they, when it’s still Anakin?

But this is no longer his house, his bedroom, or his husband. He has no right to barge in, no matter what his heart says or what the children whom he loves ask for. So he knocks, gentle but firm, and calls, “Anakin? Anakin, are you in there?”

The sounds of tossing in bedsheets and a mumbled, “Fuck off,” is the response he gets. At least it’s not shouting. 

“I’m opening the door, dear one,” Obi-Wan says because he already made the mistake of listening when Anakin told him to fuck off, and what did it get him? An empty condo and a nearly bi-monthly habit of driving to his ex’s house.

He opens the door slowly, careful not to let the light from behind shine where he knows Anakin will be laying in bed. As he expected, he sees a greasy mop of hair poking out of tangled sheets, a single eye exposed and glaring at him. There are pieces of broken ceramic on the floor - the cup that Anakin threw earlier - and piles of dirty clothing littered about. The air is stale and sour, the curtains drawn tight. 

“Oh, Anakin,” Obi-Wan sighs, stepping gingerly over the shattered cup. He partially closes the door, allowing only a sliver of light to enter, not wanting to overwhelm Anakin. He makes his way to the bed, walking around to what was once his side. He slides off his shoes and perches on the edge. Anakin rolls over to glare at him, before slowly pulling himself towards Obi-Wan. “What happened this time, love?”

Obi-Wan lowers himself so that he’s laying down, letting his arm become Anakin’s pillow as he wraps around him. It takes a few minutes for Anakin to answer, as he seemingly tries to crawl into Obi-Wan’s skin, pressing against him as close as possible. 

“Nothing happened,” Anakin mumbles, lips vibrating against Obi-Wan’s chest. Obi-Wan hums and runs a hand through Anakin’s tangled curls. It’s probably been four, maybe five, days since Anakin last showered. 

“Were you having one of your ‘good times’ before?” Obi-Wan asks. That’s always what Anakin called them, his ‘good weeks’ or ‘good months’ or ‘good days.' The times he had so much energy that he couldn’t sit still, when his words seemed to tumble out of his mouth, fighting to escape first. Anakin was having one of his ‘good months’ when he started dating Obi-Wan. So full of frantic life, his gaze and attention burning, it made Obi-Wan feel like the centre of a strange and wonderful universe. And when it mellowed, when he found the shy, intelligent, earnest man underneath it all, Obi-Wan was already so in love, so ensnared in Anakin’s orbit. As uncertain as his life with Anakin was, it was never all bad. Never bad enough to make Obi-Wan want to leave, not in the beginning. Not really at the end, either. 

Anakin shakes his head. “No,” he whispers. “It was just normal.” Obi-Wan hums again and hears Anakin sniffle against his sweater. “Obi-Wan?”

“Yes, dearest?”

“I miss you.” Anakin only speaks to Obi-Wan’s chest and doesn't look at him when he says it. “I wish you were here.”

“I’m here now,” Obi-Wan says, wanting to never leave again. Anakin used to call him whenever he was late coming home, a pout in his voice, telling Obi-Wan how much he wanted to see him. Obi-Wan could spend eternity with Anakin and he would still ask for another day. 

“You know that isn’t what I meant,” Anakin sniffles again and clears his throat. Obi-Wan presses a kiss against his scalp, ignoring the grease and the tangles. 

“I miss you too, Anakin,” he admits, feeling as guilty as he would if he was confessing to a murder. Because no matter what anyone else says, he did this to them. He knew Anakin was unwell when he started dating him. Padmé told him as much, told him of the sky highs and the oceanic lows, of the accusations and the love-drunk declarations. He knew what Anakin was like and still fell in love with him, clearing every hurdle to make it easier. Anakin may have said and done every horrible thing that he did, but it was Obi-Wan who called it quits. Anakin would have been happy fighting, making up, making love forever, until one of them died and the other wasted away. 

“Can you just stay?” Anakin asks, and Obi-Wan knows he isn’t just asking about tonight. “Please?”

“... Maybe,” Obi-Wan says, knowing that he can’t. Because if he stays once, he’ll never be able to leave again. He only managed to pull himself out of Anakin’s orbit once, barely. He’s still drawn back, circling his old life and his old kids and his old husband like a dying satellite. If he gets any closer, he’s sure he’ll crash and burn. It doesn’t sound so bad, here, holding Anakin, listening to him choking back tears, feeling so at home in his old bed. But he remembers how he felt, so long ago, that fervent need for space and trust and healing - it feels so distant, but he can’t abandon that clarity. 

“When was the last time you took your pills?” he says, instead of sharing any of this with Anakin. (There was a time, years ago, when a single glance would make Obi-Wan spill his guts to Anakin. He either built resolve since then or Anakin forgot that he had that power.)

Anakin shrugs. “They don’t help.”

“They do help, Anakin.” It’s an old argument and Obi-Wan can feel Anakin scowling at him. “I know you don't like them, but take them for me. I’ll get them for you.”

Anakin whines as Obi-Wan detangles himself and slides his shoes back on. He’ll have to sweep before he leaves. Probably put on the laundry (but if he does that, he’ll have to wait to put them in the dryer and put them away. Anakin certainly won't finish the job). It only takes a glance at all the pill bottles in the washroom to see that none of Anakin’s prescriptions have changed, so he shakes out what he needs until his palms rattle with little pills bumping against each other as he walks. He puts them on the bedside table, loose and wobbling until they settle into a fixed spot. 

“I’ll get you some water,” he says to the lump hiding in bedsheets. He takes the opportunity to make some toast and searches for granola bars to bring with him. He realizes that this is the kind of behaviour that Anakin used to call ‘babying.’ Sometimes Obi-Wan doesn’t know what Anakin wanted him to do when they were married and Obi-Wan was practically pulling his hair out in frustration. 

He brings the glass of water and the plate to Anakin, once again stepping over the sharp mess on the ground. Anakin hasn’t moved, but he doesn’t put up resistance when Obi-Wan pulls him into his lap, seeing his face fully for the first time. 

He has dark eyebags, red eyes, and cracked lips. His skin is oily, with little spots of acne dotted around his chin, forehead, and cheeks. There are pillow lines and eye gunk dried in the corners of his eyes. He smiles when Obi-Wan rearranges him so that he can wrap his arms around Anakin and it feels like falling in love all over again. It hurts his heart. 

“Why don’t I give the doctor a call tomorrow, and you can ask about switching meds again?” It’ll probably be a fruitless quest. Anakin’s tried just about every combination, every therapy, every thought exercise that they can think of. But Obi-Wan refuses to think of Anakin as a lost cause, as someone who’ll never improve or get better. And it’s only in times like this that Anakin thinks of himself that way. 

Anakin shrugs. “Whatever.”

Obi-Wan should reach over to grab Anakin’s meds now. He should make Anakin eat something. He should usher him into the shower and restrain himself from joining him under the spray. He should tell Anakin that he can’t keep coming over to clean up his mess, can’t keep driving him to his doctor’s appointments and hospital stays, and can’t keep driving him home every time he gets so drunk that the only number he remembers is Obi-Wan’s. He should remind himself that this is the man he divorced, the man he left, the man who, despite everything, was too angry to put up much of a fight when everything was all said and done. Obi-Wan should let his friends set him up on dates and actually try to get along with them. He should apologize to Padmé again. He should do a lot of things.

But Anakin is so sweet, sitting on Obi-Wan’s lap, even as depressed and messy as he is. He leans on Obi-Wan like he’s the only solid thing in the world - and maybe to Anakin, that’s the case. Obi-Wan curls around Anakin just a little bit more, pulling him closer, only for a minute, he tells himself. Despite - or because of - everything, this is the man that Obi-Wan loves more than anything else, the centre of his universe. No matter how far he tries to stray, he’ll always end up circling Anakin. 

Tomorrow, he’ll call the doctor, which will make Anakin upset. He’ll probably throw something again, in between tears, and Obi-Wan will spend hours convincing him that it’s the right move. Later today, he’ll clean up all the mess around the house. He’ll cook Anakin a proper meal and take out the trash. He’ll draw a bath and wash his hair if he asks Obi-Wan not to leave the room. For now, he breathes deeply, memorizing how perfectly Anakin fits against him, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing, feeling how Anakin’s fingers dig into his skin. For now, he tries to find a balance between smothering his love and feeling Anakin’s, while it lasts.