#at least give it a go. the worst that can happen is that i disappear and everyone wanders off into the internet ether

[veliseraptor]

I want to be friends with you but youre cool n scary :(

oh anon I assure you that I am not that cool and don't bite people anymore, most of the time.

in seriousness though most of the issue of being friends with me is that i seem to find making the jump from "people i like" to "actual friend" a very difficult one. but i do generally like talking to people, anyway! i'm just very bad at doing it mostly

[jeonsweetpea]

The Moon Knows Our Secrets (1)

Exes to Lovers!AU | Hybrid!Jungkook x Hybrid!OC | Soulmate!AU

genre: angst, smut, exes to lovers, vampire/werewolf hybrid (emphasis on werewolf), soulmates, forced proximity

rating: explicit

description: He doesn’t remember loving you. How could he, when you’re the one who erased his memories? You run into him a year later at a wedding. The year after that he’s reported missing and you go off to find him. Then you wonder: did he ever forget you?

word count: 9.1k

warnings: blood, blood-drinking, one injury, flirting, TXT is mentioned and they’re horny brats but protective!JK swoops in, ANGST, mentions of compulsion, past deaths, JK smokes for like, one second, fire, resentment, but trust me, they will fall for each other all over again, two-shot 💖

smut warnings: OC goes into HEAT at the worst time, kissing, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, squirting, overstimulation, (more intense smut to come in part 2)

a/n: This is an epilogue for my series Moonstruck (inspired by TVD), but it can be read as a STAND-ALONE! You do not have to read Moonstruck (but it will be more satisfying if you have 😉). I love this couple and they deserve their (steamy) happy ending. They both embody the “right person, wrong place.”

Part 1 | Part 2 |

“You’re going to forget the fact you ever loved me. I’m just the girl who had a crush on you and trained with you, nothing more. I want you to live your life freely. If we ever cross paths again, don’t approach me. When I’m ready, I’ll come to you and you can decide then if you’ll have me. You’ll remember then. I love you, Jungkook.”

You first saw him again at a wedding.

When you arrive at the venue, your eyes scan the sea of strangers for him like an automated response. You clutch onto the chain of your purse, the tight squeeze in your chest never seeming to disappear. Once you’re sure of his absence, the tension in your shoulders fades.

Round tables are arranged around a central dance floor, so you sit at the closest one, joining in the crowd’s applause despite not knowing what’s happening. The happy couple is swaying to romantic jazz music played by the live band, their adoring smiles perfectly matched.

“What did I miss?”

Your old classmate chuckles when she notices your presence, using her fingers to count as she lists off her answers. “The ring bearer, flower girl, the da-da-da-da piano introduction, the vows, the kiss, the first dance—so pretty much everything. Surprised to see you here.”

So are you. It took you hours of hyping yourself up before deciding to attend. You never RSVP-ed properly, allocating all your time to getting ready instead. Not that you had anyone to impress, but it’s a wedding. Sweatpants weren’t going to cut it.

“Can everyone please have a seat? We’re going to hear the best man give his speech!” That authoritative voice belonged to Kim Namjoon, the headmaster of BTSU (Be The Supernatural University). His dimple smile emerges when he notices you and he waves excitedly, dropping the microphone in the process. 

You giggle. “See? I didn’t miss everything, Lia.”

She hands you a glass of champagne, then clinks the glass against your own. “Okay, Ms. Fashionably Late. At least you look hot.”

The guests take their seats while the couple sits at the head table near the dance floor. There’s a small stage next to them and on it is a microphone stand under a beautifully decorated archway. A blanket of silence washes over the crowd as anticipation rises, but the best man is nowhere to be found. Murmurs spread quickly as heads turn in confusion.

“I’m here, I’m here!”

You don’t have to look to know who that voice belonged to. The glass in your hand trembles, on the brink of shattering under your tightening grip. Your mouth parts open in shock, your heart rate beating so loudly that it rings in your ears, drowning out the noise of the crowd’s applause as the so-called best man gets on stage. 

Jeon Jungkook — your ex-boyfriend.

Could you even call him your ex? Your history was, in a word, complicated. Boyfriend and girlfriend weren’t labels you two were fortunate enough to share. Bound by trauma, forced into despair, crippled with pain — the “relationship” in question was toxic. 

“You’re going to forget the fact you ever loved me…”

A hybrid had many advantages — compulsion included. With one look, you ordered him to forget having loved you and then left. Traveling the world healed you and the thought of returning to your college campus never once crossed your mind until a year later.

Your old professor sent you a text — a wedding invitation to be specific. Though the gesture was sweet, you preferred staying blissfully ignorant. You almost deleted it. However, F.O.M.O was a crippling feeling, so you ultimately gave in. 

You were aware the chances of running into Jungkook were high, but that’s why you arrived late on purpose. You had let your guard down too easily, assuming he might’ve left early or not bother showing up at all. What a fool. 

The fairy lights strung across the venue illuminate him with a gorgeous golden glow as he steps onto the stage. You hold your breath as the world seems to slow down, taking in his features. 

His hair used to be longer and shaggier; you teased him for having a mop-head back then (lovingly). Now it’s half long, with shaved sides and a slight mullet. He wore a simple white shirt, layered with a classic black blazer and matching dress pants. Several square box chains surrounded his neck, complimenting his silver hoop earrings and lip ring (when did he get that?). His accessories sparkle under the lights, almost blinding, as if he were a living filter. 

Damn. He’s only gotten more gorgeous. 

Jungkook quickly adjusts the microphone stand to his height, then presents a bunny-tooth grin. “Hello everyone! Sorry, I’m late. I had forgotten my script.” He shakes the index cards in his hands gently, causing a ripple of laughter through the crowd. “It’s an honor being both Hoseok and Yoongi’s best man.”

Jung Hoseok was your old classmate, who used to be the alpha of the werewolf pack senior year. But then along came Jungkook, who stole the title from beneath him after challenging him to a duel. Funny how he is now his best man. 

Min Yoongi was the one who invited you, a research assistant at your university. If you had to describe him in a phrase, it’d be: “Actions speak louder than words.” You knew his intentions when he sent the invitation, so you had to come and support him the same way he’s done for you. 

Jungkook peers down at his script before placing a hand on the microphone. 

“I’ve known Yoongi and Hoseok for years now and their love is truly special. They’re often private with their affection, but we know how they would go out of their way for each other. My favorite part is whenever Hoseok compliments Yoongi, he’d—”

“AaarrghhH!!!” The obnoxious scream is from Yoongi himself, who had stood up and faced away from the crowd. People crack up at his hilarity, including Hoseok who is clapping his hands like a seal. 

“Yes. That. Exactly that,” Jungkook says, followed by a soft chuckle. “The two play off each other well. Hoseok brings joy to everyone and it’s infectious. I’ve never seen Yoongi happier than when he’s with Hoseok.”

Yoongi rubs the nape of his neck, a shy smile gracing his features as he sits back down. Hoseok places his head on his partner’s shoulders, sighing in content. Jungkook flips to the next index card and clears his throat.

“Yoongi and Hoseok are people I like from the bottom of my heart. They’re like family, and I’m so glad to be a part of their story. We were able to come to where we are right now because everybody was all together.” His lips tremble slightly as he holds the corners of the card with both hands, tears slowly welling up in his eyes. His head hangs low for a moment but then he looks up, forcing a smile on his face. “Sorry, I’m getting emotional.”

You almost shout it’s okay! but nothing comes out. Fortunately, a couple of folks blurt out comforting words that make him laugh as he quickly wipes his tears away. He rolls his shoulders back and blows a small raspberry with his lips to reset. 

“These two have both helped me through so much. When I almost lost my life. When I lost my friends. When I wanted to give up on myself,” His eyes scanned across the venue as if simulating eye contact with each guest. “And especially when I experienced the biggest absence of my life with…”

His words are cut short at the same time your breath hitches. It’s a split second, but you’re sure. You’re sure his gaze fell on you, his expression stiffening slightly while you let out a silent gasp. The world seems to be at a standstill until he crumples the cards in his hand and tosses them aside. He lets out a half-hearted laugh, gesturing to the large projector screen he prepared earlier. 

“Enough about me!” he exclaims. “I made a compilation of the couple’s best moments. Enjoy!”

You don’t pay attention to the video playing despite the roaring laughter from the crowd. Someone shouts something about the couple wearing colorful animal sheet masks, but your eyes are glued to Jungkook. He exits the stage, heading back to his group of friends at the table furthest from yours. They give him a pat on the back and he’s back to smiling as if nothing happened. 

Was it your imagination? Maybe he wasn’t looking at you. You finish your champagne in one gulp, slamming the glass down without meaning to. The sharp sting in your palm makes you realize your actions as you groan, the deep cut across your hand oozing blood. 

“[Y/N], are you okay? Oh my gosh, here.” Lia is quick to grab the cloth napkin, wrapping it around your hand and tying a knot. 

“Thanks, but I’m fine. I’ll heal anyway.”

“Still, how did this even happen? What’s got you so tense?”

You say nothing, but she follows your line of sight and purses her lips. “Are you looking at the wolves? Is it Jungkook?”

“No,” you say quickly. “I’m gonna go to the restroom and wash the blood off.”

Before she can interrogate you further, you make a break for it. It was difficult walking in your nude heels, each step feeling like you were sinking deeper into the grass. The fairy lights help you see in the dark as you pass by the greenery of the garden, the flowers being your favorite part. You’d stop to smell them but didn’t want the blood to stain their lovely petals. Your feet finally reach a cobblestone path and you see the restroom building up ahead. 

There’s a handwashing sink outside. Once you turn on the faucet, you unwrap the cloth around your hand and wash the excess blood away. The cut had partially healed already — another perk of hybrid blood — but it still felt nice.

You find yourself lost in thought as the cool water flows onto your hands. You tell yourself there’s no way Jungkook was looking at you. He doesn’t even know you. At least, not in the way he used to. 

“I’m just the girl who had a crush on you and trained with you, nothing more. I want you to live your life freely.”

Ah. Right. You’ve been reduced to a mere stranger now. The depressing reality makes you sigh as you turn off the water. 

That’s when you hear it. Footsteps. Heavy ones that grow louder from behind you. The hairs on your neck stand up as you turn around.

Jungkook is approaching you, his stride long and confident. Your brain must have been rewired to put him in slow motion because he’s like a model walking down a runway. You can’t believe your eyes and are torn between running away or staying put. He’s closer now. Your heart skips a beat, the anticipation crushing you. Stay put it is.

“If we ever cross paths again, don’t approach me.”

Yet here he is. Approaching you. Had the compulsion not worked on him? Did he remember you all this time? Well, your answer comes when he walks right by you without sparing a glance as he enters the men’s restroom. You blink a few times, stunned by what took place.

Well, that proves it; the compulsion was still effective. You look at the bloody napkin in your hand, clutching it tightly. 

“What, is he blind? He didn’t even ask if I was okay. This is a huge red flag, literally!” You wave the fabric around like a crazed woman, having half a mind to chuck it across the building. After sulking for a minute, you compose yourself and prepare to head back.

That’s when an unpleasant smell creeps its way into your nose. It’s harsh, like the smell of acetone and burnt wood, and you cough uncontrollably. The acrid fumes are suffocating as you wander around the restrooms for the smell. 

“It’s coming from the men’s side…” you mumble to yourself. 

“When I’m ready, I’ll come to you and you can decide then if you’ll have me.”

Ignore it. It’s not your business. Yet your feet are already stomping inside, where your ex jolts in alarm at your sudden presence. 

“Hey, just because you’re a hybrid doesn’t mean smoking is okay!” The cigarette dangles from his mouth when his lips part in a small “o” shape, seconds from falling. You swipe it from him, drop it on the ground, and crush it under your heel. His doe eyes are larger than before, but your actions render him speechless. “It’s a gross habit and causes bad breath. So… yeah. Don’t smoke. Even if you’re practically immortal it’s not good for you.”

You spin around and close your eyes, cringing at your meddlesome behavior. You should leave before things escalate. 

“Are you okay?” Your eyes flutter open. He must think you’re deranged! “Your hand… is that blood?”

You look down, noticing the cloth in your hand was no longer white, but a deep crimson that seemed to permeate nonstop. 

“Oh, this is nothing. It’ll heal soon.”

He circles and gets in front of you, holding out his hand. “May I take a look?”

Whatever compels you to give your hand to him is a mystery, but you do it. He removes the cloth first, then inspects your palm, concern etched in his features. Blood continues to ooze out of the gash, but all you can focus on is the warmth of his hand enveloping your cold one. It reminds you of holding a hot cup of coffee in the morning except in this case, your cortisol levels are spiking. 

“It’s not good for you, you know,” he says with a soft smile. He directs his gaze from his hand to your own. “Getting cuts on such pretty hands. Who did this to you?”

If you had a brain, you didn’t anymore. You feel it short-circuiting, the hints of protectiveness in his voice setting sirens off in your mind. “No one… I accidentally broke a glass.”

It comes out as a whisper, but he acknowledges your response with a gentle “hmm.”

“This won’t do. It’s not healing fast enough,” His eyes shift up to meet your own. “You’re practically dripping in my hand.”

How can he say such things to you with such a straight face? The double entendre is blatant, but calling him out for it would only expose your impure thoughts.

“Shall I clean you up?” You don’t miss how he says “you” and not “it.” His irises glow a ruby red, matching his blood-shot sclera. Protruding veins appear under his eyes as he opens his mouth wide enough to exhibit his sharp fangs. It’s a hauntingly beautiful sight.

“That’s okay, you don’t—you don’t have to.” 

“Maybe I want to. Besides… I was smoking to curb my cravings. You took that away, so I need something else to satisfy me.”

You gulp. “And you think my blood will do that?”

He flashes you a smirk. “I’d like to find out. If you’ll let me.”

He doesn’t remember. He doesn’t remember. He can’t remember. Right? 

You agree with a soft “okay” and Jungkook doesn’t hold back. He sticks his tongue out, licking up the blood that overflowed onto his thumb first before following the stream up to your palm. He presses his lips onto the gash and sucks, earning a small gasp from you. This catches his attention, and he stares at you. His pupils are dilated, the primal look in his gaze so enrapturing. 

The pit of your stomach is on fire as he continues feeding from the palm of your hand. His tongue comes out to play, swiping back and forth, leaving no spot untouched. It tickles, but you’re too tense to move a muscle. 

Then he moans. It’s low at first, but then he closes his eyes and does it again. This time it’s more guttural, and he presses harder against you like he was starved.

“Ow,” you say, wincing when his fangs pierce your skin. It coaxes more blood to come out, and he visibly shudders.

“Sorry, I—Fuck,” His breath is uneven as he pants, drunk on your taste. He furrowed his eyebrows like he was mad, fighting against his primal urges to devour you whole. “I’ll be more careful. Please let me finish, please.”

Oh my god. He’s begging you. It’s too adorable to resist. He opens his eyes when you don’t reply, and you quickly give him your consent. His technique, if you can even call it that, grows sloppy as he rushes to clean up the mess he made. It’s like he was embarrassed, which makes your heart grow fonder. 

Once he finishes, his lips come together and make a loud smooching sound. He kisses the spot once again, lovingly, and then pulls away. You’re shocked to see the cut is no longer there. 

“Delicious. Sweet, with a hint of spice.”

You’re flattered by the handsome blood sommelier but retract your hand, hiding it behind your back while clearing your throat. 

“Um… Thank you.” That sounded more lame out loud than in your head, but nothing else seemed appropriate. 

Jungkook rubs the excess blood from the corner of his lips with his thumb. “It was my pleasure.” He sucks it and then releases his thumb with a loud pop.

Discomfort washes over you with how quiet the restroom gets, but you don’t break the silence. Instead, you turn around and head for the exit. 

“You’re [Y/N], right?” Three steps. That’s how far you got. “We were in the same year together.”

You grab onto the chain of your purse again. “Yeah. We were.”

And you leave it at that. 

You walk around to ease the buried feelings threatening to bubble up to the surface. Aside from the reception in the garden, the rest of the campus is quiet. Not a single light is on from the buildings you pass, your heels following the moonlight instead.

You pass the library, the gym, and the fine arts hall, but your steps halt at the girls’ dormitory. Memories flood your mind one by one: decorating your room, staying up late studying for exams, and the time when Jungkook slept over and—no. Shit. Don’t think about a love that’s lost. 

A weighted sigh comes as you sit on the steps, giving your feet a much-deserved break. You hug your knees, tuck your head down, and rest it in your folded arms as if you wanted to hide from the world. Why the hell did you think coming here would be easy?

His touch lingers in your mind as you replay the moment. The way he held your hand, the way he was concerned for your well-being, and the way he fed off your blood was far more intimate than you expected. Then he said your name.

It ignited a yearning you thought you had suppressed.

“I should leave…” you say out loud to no one in particular. 

“And miss the group picture?”

You lift your head slowly like you were caught red-handed committing a heinous crime. You’re greeted by pointed black dress shoes, black dress pants, a white shirt and black blazer, silver necklaces, and soft doe eyes that could melt anyone’s heart. 

“Jungkook…”

His eyes light up, a tinge of rouge dancing across his cheeks as he slips his hands into his pockets. “So you do remember me.”

How could I ever forget? “Well yeah… we were in the same year together.”

He scrunches his nose, amused at your usage of his past words. “That’s it? We were sparring partners, we went on missions together, and I’m pretty sure you saved my life by turning me into a hybrid,” Your jaw falls to the ground while his lips curve into a playful grin. “Ring a bell?”

The logistics of your compulsion weren’t specific as to how much Jungkook would remember. Then again, you didn’t erase his memory of your existence, so it’s natural he would remember some basic things. 

“Wow, you have a good memory. Um… yeah, I guess that covers the extent of our relationship.”

He quirks his eyebrow, sounding far too happy for your liking as he says, “We… have a relationship?”

You put your hands out in a stop motion and shake them in a panic. “No! Not at all. I–I meant that’s all we are to each other. Nothing more, nothing less. Just old classmates.”

“I see. What a shame though. I feel like we would have… should have gotten to know each other more back then.”

His voice has a trace of longing, but you dismiss it for friendly conversation. “Really? I was too focused on my studies anyway. You wouldn’t have liked me.”

He nods. “Considering how you stomped out my cigarette? Yeah, probably not.”

You scoff, a playful glint in your eyes. “Excuse me for looking out for you.”

“Never asked you to, but I’ll admit, I enjoy the attention.” You both laugh and then he extends his hand out to you. “Come on. Let’s go take the group picture together.”

“Oh, it’s okay. I’m not fond of pictures. Yoongi and Hobi don’t even know I’m here, so it’s not like they’ll notice.”

“I’ll notice,” You stare at him, watching his smile fade and how serious his demeanor becomes. “Your absence is significant, especially to those who care about you. They’ll remember it for the rest of their lives.”

You are about to speak when he adds, “Besides, the formation is off and we need one more person to fill in the gap.”

With a roll of your eyes, you swat his hand away and stand. “Alright, I get it. Let’s go.”

He smiles, puts his hands back in his pockets, and leads the way back. You follow him to the garden where guests are lined up in neat, staggered rows. Most of them have their arms crossed, some tapping their feet anxiously, while the rest have their hands on their hips. Even the main couple in the front row are mouthing words you can’t hear, but the way Yoongi slaps a hand to his forehead makes you aware of his distress.

“Oh!” Hoseok shouts with a jump, pointing his finger in your direction. “They’re here!”

Everyone expresses their relief with a “thank goodness” or “about time” as you and Jungkook make your way over. 

“You found her!” Namjoon says, holding up his hand for a high-five. Jungkook walks by too fast to notice, so you high-five him to ease his embarrassment.

“Wow, is that [Y/N]? You look incredible.” The man next to Namjoon gives you two thumbs up and you smile at the compliment. 

“Jin…” You can’t help but hug him tight and he reciprocates. Kim Seokjin aka Jin was the head witch on campus and counselor. You’ve confided in him for years and seeing him again almost brings tears to your eyes.

“Alright, alright. That’s enough.” Yoongi pats Jin’s back, a signal to release his hold on you. You laugh and then embrace him next, earning an obnoxious groan, but the fond smile on his face shows his true emotions. “I’m so glad you’re here. Thank you for coming.”

“Of course. Thank you for inviting me.”

You stop hugging him to see Hoseok with his arms out already, his heart-shaped grin wide.

“Come here~,” You let out an “oof” sound from how tight he squeezes you. “We had no idea you were here! Jungkook convinced the cameraman to wait until he found you.”

You let him go and look over to Jungkook, who clears his throat as he looks off to the side. The apples of his cheeks are rosy, which you find endearing. 

“Here, stand in the front row next to me,” Hoseok says, gesturing to the spot between him and Jungkook. Jungkook takes a large step to the right, allowing enough space for you to squeeze in.

“Alright, now that we finally have everyone here…” the cameraman says out loud, throwing a harsh glare in your direction. You give him a sheepish grin in return. “Everyone needs to scoot over to my left please.”

The crowd obeys, but the cameraman’s displeased frown remains. “Now everyone needs to squeeze closer together.”

There’s some shuffling and you bump into Hoseok after Jungkook’s shoulder bumps into yours. 

“Sorry,” he whispers. You tell him it’s okay.

The cameraman crosses his arms. “Come on, you guys. Act like you like each other! Closer!”

Everyone scooches in again, but Jungkook’s hand brushes against yours. The touch is electrifying, and you forget how to breathe. You can’t process your emotions as the cameraman orders the guests on your side to turn their bodies inwards at an angle. Jungkook exhales and his hot breath fans the nape of your neck. You feel your palms start to sweat. 

“Three, two, one, smile!” You put on your most picture-perfect smile, the flash nearly blinding you. “One more! This time do a silly pose!”

You observe what others choose for their pose. Bunny ears are common, heart poses are also popular whether using arms or hands. Some stick their tongues out while others fake a dramatic gasp. You shift in your position when your heels betray you and you stumble backward.

As if on cue, a pair of arms catch you and you’re dipped like you’re in a dance class with Jungkook’s face peering down at you. His sweet cologne wafts into your nostrils, a nice blend of amber and rose. These moments only happen in movies — or so you think — yet he’s a fantasy that somehow becomes your reality. 

The camera shutters and captures your deer-in-the-headlights expression and Jungkook’s, who mirrors after you. It makes the cameraman let out a hearty laugh, and he’s not sure who the real married couple is.

“Are you okay?”

You nod and he helps you regain stability. Your hand touches your face, feeling the heat radiating off your cheek. The cameraman dismisses everyone and your friends jump at the opportunity to hound you with questions. 

Hoseok’s eager to go first. “Whatcha been up to, [Y/N]? It’s been so long since we’ve all been together.”

“Just traveling, not much,” you reply, forcing the muscles in your mouth to cooperate into a believable smile. 

“Hey, that’s her business. Don’t be nosy,” Namjoon interjects. Yoongi and Jin give each other a knowing look.

“You’re just saying that because she communicates with you the most,” Jin teases. 

“I mean, I was her mentor… can’t help it if I’m her favorite.” He pats his puffed-out chest twice, proud as he winks at you. You giggle and Yoongi joins in the conversation.

“Okay, if anyone’s her favorite, it’s actually me. But anyway,” he tilts his head towards the bar, “help yourself to a drink.”

“Ooh, I will. Do you have any recommendations?” you ask. 

“Do you want something strong? Fruity?”

“Get her what Jungkook got,” Namjoon says. Jungkook stands off to the side, his jaw clenches at his name being mentioned. “You like peach-flavored things, right?”

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

“Because he told me…” He notices the group shooting glares at him like daggers. It reminds you of when an idol spoils their next comeback by accident. “... Told me it was delicious and that anyone would like it. It goes down smoothly. Very yummy. Hah. Hahaha! Is that a saxophone?”

He leaves the group in a hurry with Jin chasing after him yelling, “No! Leave the sax alone! I’m not paying for damages!”

Awkward glances are exchanged between Hoseok and Yoongi, a silent two-player game of telepathy you weren’t a part of. You can’t compel Hoseok, but Yoongi’s human. One look and you’d know what he was thinking, but that’d be highly inappropriate to do that to the groom at his wedding. 

“I’ll order my own,” you tell the couple and they wave goodbye. Jungkook’s already retreated to his friends, much to your relief. 

Once you’re at the outdoor bar, your mood lifts upon seeing the bartender. She puts down the glass she was drying and rests her hands on the countertop.

“Well if it isn’t the original hybrid queen herself.”

The bartender is young, her oval face and sharp jawline giving her a cute, handsome aura. Her hair is short, about shoulder-length, and straight. Her eyes are large, emphasized by her dramatic makeup to draw you in until you’re lost in them. 

“Hi, Ryujin. Wow, I haven’t seen you in forever.” She had a white shirt underneath her black vest; you think it suits her tom-boyish charms well.

“Since vampire ability class, I know. What can I get you, beautiful?”

The smirk she sends you has your nerves sparking, and the palms of your hands sweaty. It was different when a girl complimented you. It felt more believable, flattering even. 

You shrug in response to maintain a calm demeanor. “Hmm… I don’t know. Maybe something fruity? Citrusy?”

She nods, grabbing a shaker and a bottle of liquor under the counter straight away. You watch as she juggles the two items in the air, covering your mouth at the thought of gravity ruining her trick. However, she caught them both with ease, moving at such a fast speed as she concocted your beverage. It’s an elegant performance, her movements fluid like it’s an art. She finishes by topping off your glass with an orange slice.

“Here you go,” She slides the glittery pink drink over, and you take a sip, allowing the fruity taste to coat your tongue. “Matches your dress.”

You smile at the thoughtful gesture. “It’s good. Tastes like peaches and grapefruit. What’s it called?”

“It’s something I came up with. I wouldn’t mind sharing the recipe with you after the event’s over.”

You don’t miss the flirty tone in her words and can only laugh. She was so refreshing and has always stuck up for you in the past when others called you stuck-up for being a hybrid. Who knew she would end up flirting with you at a wedding years later?

“So? What do you say?” she asks, her eyes brimming with hope. You take another drink and finish the whole thing despite your shaky hands. She gives you a fond smile. “If I’m being too forward, tell me.”

“No, I’m just nervous,” you blurt out, setting the glass down. “You’re really pretty.”

“Is that so?”

You’re about to respond when you feel your temperature rise. You clasp a hand to your forehead, which goes from warm to scalding in seconds. Sweat beads form around your temples as your breathing becomes harsher. You rest your elbow on the counter to keep yourself balanced, but your legs are burning too. It was like someone lit a torch from beneath you, cooking your flesh inside out. 

“Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” Ryujin asks. You shake your head and your vision blurs, the lights behind her looking like a bokeh image. She hands a bottle of water to you, and you gulp it down, yet the fever persists and you feel worse. 

Ryujin sees your eyes widen in alarm as you peer down at your dress. She inspects it too, but doesn’t see anything abnormal. You rub your thighs together. 

“Fuck… I think I’m in heat,” you tell her. Your hand rummages through your purse and then you curse again, frustrated. “I’m out of suppressants!”

Ryujin snaps her fingers when a lightbulb goes off in her head. “Ask Lia.”

“Good idea.”

You blink to wet your eyes, regaining clarity of your surroundings before heading to Lia on the dance floor. She was all smiles with a guy until you bumped into her, your darn heels being the bane of your existence.

“Hey!”

“Sorry,” you quickly say, “I need your help.”

She takes one look, excuses herself, and brings you to a quieter space. Her hand reaches into her clutch and pulls out a lace handkerchief, dabbing the sweat off your forehead. Her touch is gentle and she asks quietly, “Are you in heat?”

Lia and Ryujin were best friends. Your sole encounters with her were because of Ryujin by extension, but even back then, you knew she was sweet. Wolves often looked down upon her because of her doll-like, docile appearance. However, she had enough balls to find friends in other cliques and was, what people say, a girl’s girl. 

“Yes, I feel like I’m dying. Ryujin told me to ask if you have suppressants.”

“I don’t. Do you not track your cycle?”

“I’m a hybrid! It’s random for me!” 

She grimaces, the pity in her eyes inevitable. “I’m sorry, I forgot. But you need to get out of here. Do you know how many horny young wolves are here with zero self-restraint?”

You shift your weight and a pool of discharge releases in your panties, the sticky sensation making you cringe. Lia brings out a travel-sized perfume spray and spritzes your entire body. A wheeze is forced out of you from the potent floral scent, but at least it will cover your pheromones long enough for a distraction.

“Hey everyone! The fireworks are starting soon, let’s go to the front of the school and watch!” Hoseok has his hands cupped around his mouth to carry his voice through the venue, catching the attention of all guests. Lia holds both your hands, looking you dead in the eye with a straight face.

“There. Use this time to find suppressants or get out of here. The perfume won’t last very long.”

“Thanks, Lia, I will.” 

While the crowd heads towards the front, you rush back to the restroom building. You’re a panting mess once inside, but you go into a stall, shut it, and pull down your undergarment. The fabric is soaked in slick and has a hefty weight—you have no choice but to discard it.

Grabbing toilet paper, you clean yourself up as best as you can. Then you step out, wash your hands, and exit the building.

“Hey there.” You almost topple backward from the sudden intrusion. Three guys are in front of you, all wearing the same, smug grin. They’re young, probably younger than you, but one thing’s for sure—they’re werewolves. 

There’s a particular scent that emits from wolves. It’s earthy, like a pine tree, and you’d usually find it comforting but now? Fear crawls up your spine like a spider has latched onto you, its legs creeping up your back in a spot you can’t smack away.

The one in the middle had greeted you first. He has a youthful face, and sculpted cheekbones, which are easy on the eyes. Speaking of, that was his most striking feature. They are almost cat-like (ironically) with how wide and long they are. 

“Are you lost? Everyone’s watching the fireworks,” he says, his thumb hiked over his shoulder. You don’t respond. “Ah, I’m Yeonjun. This is Beomgyu and that’s Soobin.”

Soobin is the tallest. He shows off his dimple smile upon being introduced, which seems pure, but the way his irises shifted to goldenrod says otherwise. Beomgyu, on the other hand, had the most innocent baby face you’ve ever seen. However, you don’t miss the way he licks his lips while giving you a once-over.

“I’m [Y/N]...” You don’t know why you give them your name, but it slips out. Maybe you hoped playing along would lead them to spare you. 

“Oh!” Soobin says, his index finger pointing up at the discovery. “You’re the original hybrid the professors rave about!”

“Half-vampire, half-werewolf, right?” Beomgyu asks. Your double moon necklace glows as you form your fingers into a claw shape behind your back. A small flame ignites and you hold it there, waiting for the right opportunity. 

“Yeah. I guess,” you say. “Why don’t you boys go watch the fireworks? I’ll catch up.”

“Nonsense! As gentlemen, we should escort you. Unless… you’d rather do something else. Here. Now.” Yeonjun raises an eyebrow, but you scowl in response. 

“No thanks.”

Soobin takes a step forward. “Is there anything else we can help you with?”

Beomgyu takes two. “I’m sure the three of us can be of use to you.”

It’s not until Yeonjun approaches you that you cower, stepping backward until you’re stopped by the water fountains. “No need to be shy. No one’s around.”

Your blood is boiling, though you’re not sure if it’s from your heat or rage. What’s worse is you’re not mad at them; you’re mad at yourself. Their words spurred you on as arousal drips down your thighs, a sign of your body’s betrayal. You fear if this escalates, they’ll figure out you’re not wearing anything underneath. 

“Get. Back.” You reveal the burning flame in your palm, the heat emanating off of it close enough to Yeonjun’s face. He jumps back and places a hand on his chest.

“Whoa! She’s feisty. Or should I say… fiery.”

“Maybe we should head back. She can do magic. I thought hybrids don’t know magic,” Soobin whispers. Yeonjun laughs at the ridiculous suggestion, shoving his friend for his cowardice as Beomgyu inspects him for injuries. 

“Doesn’t matter. Look at her state now.” He points in your direction, seeing how you’re barely able to stand. Your breaths are quick, shallow and your heart is thumping around like it’s going to burst out of your rib cage. The fire in your hand diminishes to a mere flicker, and then it’s out. You try to bring it back with the flick of a wrist, but all that emits are tiny sparks. Shit. I haven’t been practicing long enough.

Your womanhood is craving something, anything to alleviate the agony. It’s screaming for release, and you hold your abdomen as a sudden cramp pains you horribly. Human females experience this type of thing monthly and you have to hand it to them. This type of pain requires endurance and fucking sucks. 

You fall onto all fours, clutching your heart which is seconds away from bursting. It’s beating so loud, you can’t even hear the vulgar things the youngins are saying as they rush over. Soobin grabs your right arm; Yeonjun has the other.

You thrash in their clutches, but they only mock you with their boisterous laughter as they force you to your feet.

“Hey, hey! We’re just trying to help,” Soobin says. 

“Unless you’d rather be on all fours,” Yeonjun teases. Beomgyu bends down to your eye level, a crooked smile on his dainty face, the true embodiment of a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

 “You’re pure temptation, you know that?” He leans close, his lips grazing the shell of your ear as he whispers, “Give up. Don’t put up a fight.”

“I don’t consent,” you say, a harsh bite in your words.

Soobin squeezes your arm, almost crushing it in his large hands. “Why? Is it because we’re young?”

“It’s clear you’re horny… we are too. Come on,” Beomgyu pleads. “We’ll take good care of you. Teach us what you like.”

“Yeah. And we’ll do the same.” Yeonjun holds your hand, inspecting it closely. “So soft. I bet your hand would feel so good around my—“

“Get your hands off her before I bite them off.”

Dizziness overwhelms you, so all you see is a blurry figure behind Beomgyu, and you shake your head to come to your senses. Once the man’s face comes into focus, relief washes over you, sending signals for your brain to let down your guard. The energy you so desperately clung to has depleted, so you close your eyes as your limbs turn into jelly.

Five seconds pass and the boys’ hold on you is gone. Someone else catches you before you faint, his scent familiar and comforting. 

“I got you,” he says as he lets you lean against his body. 

“Jungkook…”

“Can you stand?” You don’t know but nod anyway. “Good. Get behind me. You don’t want to see this.”

His broad back shields you from the three wolves, so you don’t even see the damage he inflicted upon them. Yeonjun was thrown into a tree a hundred feet away, the impact so potent that it split in half. Soobin and Beomgyu were fortunate not to collide into anything after being catapulted… except for each other. 

Soobin lands on top of Beomgyu and the smaller boy groans, pushing him off in a huff. He stands first and helps Soobin after. 

“Hey, we didn’t do anything wrong!” Yeonjun shouts as he scrambles to his feet, flaring his nostrils. “You and I both know she’s a bitch in heat!” 

You cling onto Jungkook’s blazer, and he looks over his shoulder.

“Is he right?” You don’t know if he asks to be polite because even you can smell your essence leaking. You hide your face in his back, flustered, but he feels you nod.

He redirects his attention back to the wolves. “That doesn’t give you the right to touch her. I suggest you leave before I make it physically impossible.”

Soobin scoffs while Beomgyu rolls his eyes. Yeonjun’s fuse was already lit and Jungkook’s sure there’s smoke coming out of his ears. You hear him crack his knuckles, the silence that follows deafening as you hold your breath in anticipation.  

“It’s three against two. Well, three against one, really,” Soobin says, laughing like he’s already won. 

“All I see is three smooth-brained pups who are pissing me off.” Jungkook’s eyes shift to a fiery goldenrod, the corner of his lips twitching as he smirks. “You’re aware that [Y/N] isn’t the only hybrid… right?”

You don’t see it, but their faces pale in comparison to earlier. Beomgyu covers his mouth, Soobin’s eyes widen, and Yeonjun growls. 

“There were rumors about more than one hybrid existing, but I didn’t think they were true,” Beomgyu says in a hushed tone. 

“She turned him? Fuck, they’re bonded then,” Soobin says. Yeonjun waves him off in a dismissive manner. 

“I don’t give a fuck. She’s not marked. We can take them.”

Jungkook has his fists up and changes into a fighter stance, but he feels you press your forehead against his back. It’s a searing sensation that scorches him even through the two layers of fabric he had on. He turns around and holds you by the shoulders.

“Hey, stay with me,” he begs. Your head is lolling back and forth as if you were inebriated. 

“It’s so hot… I’m too hot… I hate this, I hate this. Please… I need to cool down,” you beg. Jungkook takes a peek at the time on his watch, then bites his lower lip.

“Okay,” he whispers. “When I count to three, I need you to hold your breath. Can you do that for me?”

You mumble something Jungkook believes is a “yes” based on the beginning /y/ sound. 

“Three… two…”— he looks up —“one!”

A firework shoots up into the night sky, painting it with an explosive rainbow of sparkles. You cover your sensitive ears, but make sure to hold your breath as Jungkook uses his enhanced speed to whisk you away. More fireworks go off, muffling your tracks and making the youngins work harder to find you. 

However, Jungkook’s skills are unmatched. He sprints to the side of the school where the mountains are, and they follow suit. At the last second, he pivots and heads to the secluded area on the opposite side, where the lake is. 

The last memory you had here was something you blocked out to spare your mental health. You had almost died. But now this place was going to save you, funny enough. If you think about it, the lake had more happy memories than bad. This was where Namjoon trained you before you trained Jungkook.

You can picture it now as if it was yesterday. He, a newly turned werewolf, scared of what’s to come in his new life, and you, the school prodigy who had a crush on him.

Jungkook jumps off the dock with you in his arms, the splash overshadowed by the firework’s detonation. The cool water refreshes your sweltering body as you close your eyes, submitting to it. For a moment you don’t care about anything. Not how your makeup is smeared, how your curls are undone, or how your dress is ruined.

You feel strong arms hold you close, and an overwhelming sense of longing hits you in the gut. God, you missed him so much. Even without his memories, he still cares for you. Hell, he went out of his way to protect you.

Just when your lungs are on the verge of giving out, you’re pulled up to the surface. Your eyes flutter open as you rub the water off your face. Jungkook coughs, then cups your face with both hands.

“Are you okay?”

You take in his appearance for what feels like an eternity. His brown eyes twinkle from the moonlight, so beautiful and full of worry. You find it amusing how his hair is stuck to his forehead, the strands partially obstructing his view. Your hand pushes it out of the way without thinking like muscle memory, causing his breath to hitch.

“Thanks to you.”

Fireworks are still going off in the distance, illuminating you two in the crystal-clear water. Jungkook slowly removes his hands from you.

“Good. I um… don’t hear them anymore. They must’ve left. And the water should keep your scent hidden for now.”

“That’s a relief.” Jungkook places the back of his hand against your forehead but retracts it quickly as if he touched a hot stove. 

“Ow, oh my god. You’re still burning up!”

How naive were you to think it’d be over? You’ve experienced this once before, but that was with your first ex, who was at your beck and call for sex whenever you needed it. You couldn’t ask that of Jungkook. Not after everything that’s happened.

“I’ll figure something out. You’ve done a lot for me already and your clothes are wet.”

“I don’t give a damn about my clothes. Tell me how I can help you.”

*BOOM*

A red heart-shaped firework went off as you two stared at each other. Your gaze flickers from his eyes to his luscious lips and he doesn’t miss it. Maybe you don’t want him to.

“Why do you want to help me? We… We’re not that close.”

“Well… the thing is… I-I just…” He is so freakin’ cute. You might die from how endearing he is before your heat destroys you first. “Because.”

“Because?”

*BOOM*

“Because it’s finally just you and me.”

His answer is simple. There shouldn’t be any underlying connotations and yet, it reminds you of a past conversation. 

“We’re in this together. You and me. Okay?”

“Is it really you and me…”

“What do you mean?”

“Will it ever be? Just you and me?” 

“Now tell me what you need. Use me.”

Your pussy is throbbing so much that it’s agonizing. You just need a quick release, then you’ll be sane enough to go home without collapsing. 

“This feels…” So right, you think. “Wrong.”

His hands sneak around your waist. “Then let’s misbehave.”

He hoists you up onto the edge of the dock without warning as if you weigh nothing, and a grunt leaves his lips. It’s far too sexy to ignore, and your mind craves to hear it again. Then he places his hands on either side of your thighs and pulls himself up halfway out of the water, his face now directly in front of yours. 

“Tell me what you need. How can I please you?”

Fuck. You bite your lower lip when you realize the dock isn’t that tall—he’s at the perfect height to carry out the desires you’ve been suppressing. “I need to come…”

A water droplet falls off his button nose when he chuckles. “How do you want to come?”

You stare at his lips, which are thin yet plump at the same time, his lower lip being the bigger half. You think back to earlier when he sucked your palm. 

 “I want you to eat me out…”

He moves fast, almost like he knew what you’d say. His grip on the dock loosens, and he plops back into the lake but grabs your ankles, pulling you forward until your bottom is perched on the very edge. He spreads your thighs and rests his head between them, looking up at you like you were worth the entire universe. 

“Why don’t you lift your dress for me, gorgeous?”

You’re unsure what’s louder — the fireworks or your heart rate. If he keeps speaking to you in that low dialect, you may come right now. Your fingers bunch up the fabric at the hem and you slowly pull it up, exposing your pussy to his feasting eyes. 

“Fuck, what a beautiful pussy.”

You take two fingers and glide it up your folds, coating it in your slick. Jungkook watches, unsure of what you are going to do next. You lean forward, cupping his face with your other hand with a naughty glint in your eyes.

“Open.” He obliges, and you stick your coated fingers in his mouth. A muffled groan comes out as he sucks your fingers, his tongue swirling around so nothing goes to waste. “Good boy.”

You remove your fingers and he’s practically drooling, his eyes a bit crazed from your addictive taste.

“Please let me pleasure you, please.”

You don’t answer and run a hand through his damp hair, stopping at the back to grip it tight as you guide his head closer to where you need him most. He peers up at you adoringly when you hold him an inch away.

“Please me then.”

He doesn’t hesitate. His tongue licks a stripe on your sopping cunt, earning a shudder from you. Your thighs squeeze his head like a reflex, which only spurs him on to press his mouth harder against you. He begins to lap up your juices like a dog and you throw your head back, moaning at how insanely good it felt. 

You tangle your fingers in his hair and pull him closer if possible, the tight hold giving him a tinge of pain that ignites his carnal desires. He slurps your pussy like it was his last meal on death row, slithering his arms underneath your knees and holding your thighs hostage. You don’t know which noise was most obscene—your moaning or Jungkook’s.

Sneaking your free hand down, you use your forefinger and middle finger to spread your pussy lips wider. Jungkook’s excited and sinks his tongue as deep as it would go. You’re impatient now, riding his face as he tongue-fucks you. 

“Fuck, you’re so good to me, yes—oh god…” You don’t have it in you to say anything more coherent except for broken moans. Jungkook pauses for a second, and you whine at the loss of contact. Then you’re being stretched out as his two fingers submerge into you, nearly knocking the breath out of you. 

You lean back on your forearms as he begins to piston them into you, your wetness making it easy—too easy even. They slip out when he speeds up, and he makes up for it by eating you out and sinking his fingers back in simultaneously. 

You’re shaking, unable to hold yourself up any longer. Your back rests on the wooden planks as Jungkook flicks your clit with his tongue, his fingers drilling into you at a brutal speed and brushing your sweet spot. 

You see the last of the fireworks show go off, a beautiful explosion of silver sparkles and stars, as your orgasm finally comes. You arch your back and scream, but Jungkook doesn’t slow down. He can feel how tight your walls are constricting around his fingers and knows you need a few more seconds of bliss to be fully satisfied. 

Overstimulation was always a gamble. If pushed too far, you’d be in pain. But most of the time you welcome it. One second you want the pleasure to stop building, but then you crave that ache of clenching so hard until your body gives out. 

Jungkook stops again. This time he pulls himself out of the water completely and hovers over your body. His fingers plunge into you again, his speed relentless, and you swear you’re seeing stars (or maybe that’s the fireworks who knows). Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you say his name like a mantra.

“Come for me, beautiful. I want you dripping in my hand again.”

Your eyes are wide when warm lips are pressed against your own. But you submit and savor it, having missed his touch. Combining that with the way he curls his fingers inside makes you squirt. Hard. 

Your entire body convulses and you can’t even scream because Jungkook is determined to swallow them. The limitation only makes you come harder than before. Then again, you’re not sure if this is a second orgasm or a drawn-out first one. 

The involuntary gushing is an indescribable sudden wave of pleasure. You feel so relieved from the release, pushed to tears at how good it felt. Jungkook pulls away a centimeter to let you breathe, and you submit to the foreign feeling.

Oh my god, he made me squirt. I didn’t even know that was possible. 

He pulls his soaked fingers out and resumes kissing you, moving his lips in rhythm to yours. It’s so natural, almost like he’s done this before. Well, he has, but it felt so right. So loving. So… intimate. 

You place a hand on his chest and give him a gentle push. He pulls back a little, a melancholy look passing his face. 

“Will you stay?”

You can’t. He’s not supposed to be tangled up with you again. You erased his love for you for a reason; it wasn’t the right time. Any decisions made till now were because of your heat and your brain was finally back in command. 

“I can’t.”

He caresses your cheek. “Why not?”

Because I’m not ready to love you the way you deserve. Because I love you so much that I’m afraid things will fall apart again. 

“Because we don’t know each other,” You push him off you and stand, trying not to slip. Jungkook’s hands were already in position to catch you if you did. “Not really.”

As you walk away, he says something so chilling that it crystalizes your blood into ice. “You’re running away again.” 

You refuse to turn around. “It’s my choice.”

“What about my choice and what I want? Do you not care?” He stands up and tightens his fists. “Are you leaving for good this time?”

This… time? He doesn’t remember. He can’t remember.

“Goodbye, Jungkook.”

He watches as your figure grows smaller in the distance. His head hangs low and he fights back tears. You’ve made it clear what you want. He had to let you go.

A/N: I am currently writing part 2, don't worry! It's a long one, lol. This was also my first time writing in present tense. Loved it. I hope you enjoyed it too. Thank you for giving my writing a chance. 🥰

[lovifie]

Lift Me Off My Feet

Chapter 6: Boundaries

Masterlist

Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

W: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, a bit of angst before the nasties ❤️

The good thing about the three of you doing the walk of shame together is that at least you are not the one who got it worse. Price is walking like he just came of the confessional, not a sin committed in his life; you look like you should, like you just got fucked nicely but nothing a couple of minutes laying down can't help you disguise and Gaz… poor Gaz look a bit destroyed, but he carries himself with a certain attitude that makes you think: “Good for him.” and it helps him look confident if it wasn't for a weak limp as he walks. And if you are able to tell, you are sure the rest of them can as well.

“Pay up, Johnny.” Ghost says extending his hand to Soap as they sit on the sofa. 

“Fuckin’ he'll, Gaz.” Soap answers, taking his wallet from his back pocket and dropping a £20 on Ghost's hands. 

“You made a bet?” You ask curious sitting on the floor getting your legs under the table, Ghost and Soap are sitting on the sofa, Price sits down on the armchair and Gaz sits on the armrest of the sofa.

“Yeah, about who would break the truce first.” Soap explains and turns to look at Gaz. “I thought you were stronger than this, mate.”

“What truce?” You ask, sending Ghost a quick glance to ask him to play along. He doesn't say anything. 

A beat of silence goes around the room, everyone expecting the other to talk. It is Price that breaks it clearing his throat. “Right, I'll explain it. We talked about you, about how we have been treating you and about how it shouldn't have happened.” 

Your stomach turns at the confession, and a voice screams in your head: “I told you, idiot! Giving yourself like a whore on sale! Idiot! Idiot! Idiot!” You hide your hands between your thighs to hide the shaking and swallow the spit pooling in your mouth. 

“Not like that.” A warm hand on the top of your head brings you back. “Try again, Captain. So many ways to phrase it, and you choose the worst.” Ghost says 

Price rubs a hand against his face, exasperated with himself. “What I meant was… that we don't regret what we have done, we regret the way we have done it. Yeah?”

And it reaches your ears, but it doesn't get to your brain. Since the whole ordeal began, the cruel voice in your head that doesn't let you enjoy things has been scratching the walls of your head to try and make you focus on her and let her plant the seed of self-doubt in you. But you pushed her back, and the kisses and caressing of the men in front of you helped greatly. It was like seeing a shadow from the corner of your eyes, but when you turn your head it disappears; but now, hearing from Price that it shouldn't have happened, even if he was just a poor choice of words, it has made you turn your head to your shadow but this time it hasn't disappeared. Instead, it's looking at you and laughing at your face for being stupid. 

“You alright, birdie?” Ghost brushes your hair behind your ear, keeping his hand cupping your jaw and turning your face to look at him. Concern floods his eyes, eyebrows furrowed, but doesn't push it when you nod at him. 

“What we wanted to do, was do the things that we should have done before we got freaky.” Soaps continue. “Go on dates, expend time together… get to know ye. Those things.”

It only fuels your confusion. “What?” You ask looking at Price. “Dates?”

“You… you don't want to?” He asks mirroring your confusion.

“Do I have a say?” You ask, genially confused. And to you, you mean it as in “Do I have the power to choose between offers? Do I have the power to ask for you? Do I deserve more than crumbs of attention and respect?” But to them, it sounds like: “Do I have that power?”, you know, as if you haven’t gotten under their skin and you couldn't move them like puppets at your will and want. 

“I don't understand.” You mumble rubbing your face, eyes burning with tears.

“What it is?” Gaz asks sitting straight, focusing on you. 

“Why?!” You ask a bit louder that wanted. “Why me? Why do you care about me? Because I can understand that I threw myself at you and to never look a gift horse in the mouth, but what I can’t understand is why you would go out of our fucking lane to worry about the fucking shitty horse!”

The tears are flowing freely down your face by now, and you realise that they are all looking at you with expressions you can't read. You have cried in front of them before, but it was out of fear for your life, you are fine with that. But letting them see you cry because you are an idiot that caught feelings? Nah, that's too much. “I'm sorry, I… I need a moment.” You stand up, managing to get out without any of them catching your hand and lock yourself in the bathroom, in the little space between the sink and the bathtub. 

You cry your feelings out, wanting to just dry yourself out before going out, but Ghost beats you to it and knocks on the door. “Can I come in, birdie?”

“The lock doesn't work.” You mumble between sobs.

“I know, that's why I'm asking.” He says, he cracks the door open slowly and sticks his head in looking at you. “Can I come in?”

You nod, and he enters closing the door behind him. He lifts you up from your hands making you whine like a child, sits down where you were and sits you on his lap. “You got a thing for tiny spaces.” 

The TONK sound of Ghost hitting his head on the sink following the curse words makes you chuckle at the ridicule of the situation. Ghost finally settles down, and he cups your face making you lay your head on his chest. 

“What has you so upset, birdie? What is making you so sad?” He asks, the rumble of his voice travelling through your body.

You shrug your shoulders. “I just don't get it… why me?”

“I don't know, birdie… you just are.” He says caressing your face. “I can't explain it, it's just… you. We have been trained and forced to be methodical, use logic, don't get carried away by emotions, years and years of training. And now you are here, and we don't know how to act.”

You bury your face in his chest, taking in the new information, but without interrupting him. “When we entered your flat, Price saw the chair on the balcony and he almost jumped head first just to check if you were on the ground. Gaz has gone against Price's direct orders, and trust me, Gaz would rather cut his own arm than go against Price… Birdie, I'm not going to call it love and act like I know how that works. But don't bury the corpse without killing it first.”

You look up to him, and find him already looking down at you. He gives you a kiss on your forehead through the mask and asks: “Give us a chance, birdie. Please. We are all adults, we'll talk about it. Set bases and rules so everyone is happy and comfortable. But you need to let us try. Only once, birdie. That's all we need.”

Simon's words enter your head, finding the idiot voice that lives inside and slapping her across the face. After a while, you no longer have the need to cry, and even though you are elated by Ghost's comfort, it is not fair to the three men seating in the living room.

You stand up first, Ghost's hand on your back. You grab his hand to help him stand and put the other hand on the edge of the sink so he doesn't hit it again, earning yourself a chuckle from him. 

Soap is the first to see you, sitting with Gaz on the sofa. Price is still in the armchair, smoking a cigar. You walk up to him, picking the cigar from his hand and letting it down on the ashtray. You sit on the armrest of the chair, putting your deets on his lap and your hands between your thighs. 

He looks up to you almost holding your breath, like the next thing that you will say could seal or break the deal. “You don't regret meeting me, right, John?”

His face twitches, as if you had just slapped him across the face, and he quickly shakes his head bringing his arm up around you to move you to his lap keeping you close. “No, dear, no. I could never regret meeting you, I'm sorry I said it like that, I promise I'm not usually such a muppet.” 

“I wanna give it a try.” You say and look up to him. “But I'm scared.”

“You don't need to be, what's scaring you?” He ask looking at your face.

“You don't know me… what if once you get to know me, you don't like what you learn? If you get bored? Or disgusted…” You mumble, talking more and more softly as you bury your face on his neck.

“Now you are just talking nonsense, love.” Price says, cupping your face and peeling your face away from his neck. “And you are thinking too highly of us, what if you are the one who doesn't like us?”

“That's not-” You begin to say, ready to argue that it is not possible to not like them, that they look like they have come out of a firefighter calendar, that they have been nothing but kind and caring with you, that if you found something about them you didn't like it would most likely to bother you enough to break away. But you look at his face, and he has this know-it-all expression that quiets you up. 

“Exactly, love.” He says and lets you hide your face again. You sigh, tired of your feelings and start to stand up. “I'm gonna have a shower.”

“Wait!” Soap says standing up quickly and sprinting to the kitchen, coming back out with different kinds of shampoo and body skin care products. “How about a bath? A bubble bath?” He asks, happy to cheer you up and to have an excuse to mess around with the different liquid. 

You nod quickly smiling widely and watch him run to the bath. Price calls your attention with a tap on your lower back and explains: “Gaz and I need to go back to base, Ghost and Soap will stay with you tonight, that's fine with you?”

You nod again, saying goodbye to both of them, feeling too awkward to hug them because of the newly exposed feeling even if just an hour ago they were balls deep inside you. You run to the bathroom when Soap calls your name.

“Quickly, bonnie. Get in before it goes cold.” He says, satisfied with the sweet smell and bubbly water. “Do you need anything else?”

“Actually, can you lend me some more clothes? I'm pretty sure I have run out of clean clothes and underwear.” You admit, looking a bit ashamed.

“Sure, I'll bring ye some of mine. I'm sure ye'll fill in my knickers just fine with that fine arse of yers.” He mumbles in your ears, earning himself a slap on his biceps as he exits the bathroom to pick up the clothes. He drops them by a little later and lets you to enjoy your bath.

The bath truly helps you relax, of the tightness in your muscles and of the exhausting feelings in your head. It also leaves you room to think about them, to rationalize them. Simon is right, you cannot say no just because you are scared it may not work out in the end, not without trying first.

After some time, the water starts to get cold, so you drain the tub and grab the towel to dry yourself. You look at the clothes that Soap lend you, and realise he only left his briefs and a t-shirt; cheeky bastard. 

As you open the door, the smell of food floats around the whole house and it makes your stomach rumble. Ghost and Soap must be making dinner. So you walk down the hall, entering the kitchen without thinking.

And part of you blames you for it, but another part is really glad you didn't.

Johnny is on his knees, in front of Ghost, getting his mouth fucked by the late one. The wet sounds of Johnny gagging around Ghost’s dick as it hits the back of his throat almost hide the sound of your steps, but not good enough fot Ghost.

“Hi, Birdie.” He groans, caressing Johnny head in such a tender way it clashes with the filthy image. “Are you hungry? Johnny here couldn't wait for dinner.”

“I can see…” You mumble back looking at Soap, unable to peel you away. You are glad you just got out of the tub, being able to attribute your blush to the heat of the bathroom. Still, no bath can explain the way you clench your thighs together, and Ghost chuckles when he notices.

“C’mere, birdie.” He instructs, extending his hand to you. You grab it, feeling him pull you close; his hand moves to your waist, cupping your face with the other. “I really want to kiss you right now, pretty bird”

And you know what he is asking for, to break the truce; because if you initiate it, he is technically not breaking it. And it is cruel, especially to Price that you know is going to be the last one to break it, but right now, with Ghost mask up to his nose and Johnny chocking on his dick, your mind is busy. 

You get on your tip toes, urging Ghost to bend down and he gives you a quick peck on your lips. Just to seal the deal, before he pulls your head from the back of your head making you open your mouth to groan and he gets his tongue inside your mouth, turning the groan into a moan. 

It is such a filthy kiss, its only fitting for a filthy situation that you just yourself into. 

Johnny doesn't last before calling for your attention, but he doesn't call you, instead, he pulls your leg between his and starts humping his leaking dick against you. It makes you look down breaking the kiss and making Ghost look down as well, he chuckles seeing the Scotsman so desperate and grabs a handful on his mohawk making him let go of his dick with a POP sound. “Don't fuck her leg, you fucking mutt” Johnny whines when he grips his hair harder and Ghost looks up to you. You can see the gears spinning inside his head when he looks from you to Soap, both grabbed by the hair, and you are not really surprised when he says. “Get on your knees for me, birdie.”

When you drop to your knees, Ghost pushes you and Soap’s head closer to each other and Soap bites your mouth kissing you as he devours your lips. His knee on the ground is against your cunt, and when he flexes closer to you it makes you moan inside his mouth.

Soon, Soap’s tongue is not the only thing in your mouth and you feel something blunt nudge at the side of your lips. You pull apart an inch, opening your eyes, just in time to see Ghost’s dick slide between Soaps and your mouth. Both tongues getting tangled around his already wet length, Ghost moans without letting go of both of your head. Soap hands find their way to your waist, and start to help you grind yourself against his tigh. 

“She is going to ruin your underwear, Johnny.” Ghost manages to say between grunts and moans. “Better to help her take them off.”

Big hands grab you from under your arms hoisting you up, Ghost holds you against his chest with your back pressed to him and Soap helps you take off your underwear. Just when you are naked from the waist down, you feel Ghost slip his dick between your folds, rubbing your clit on his way forward. His red tips stick out from between your legs, and you can almost feel Soap mouth water and the sight of both your crotch together. “C’mon, Johnny, I didn't tell you to stop sucking.”

Johnny’s tongue is warm against your skin, and for a second when you look down, all you see is Ghost fucking Soap’s mouth through you. Until Ghost begins to thrust, and his tip keeps nudging at your clit and if it is not his tip it’s Soap's tongue running side to side on it. 

Ghost is still hugging you from behind, his face now hidden in your neck moaning little words that don't make sense, you grab his arms trying to keep yourself steady, you can barely reach the floor having to be on your tiptoes on top of Ghost's feet. 

The mix of it all, feeling almost like a fleshlight by Ghost, Soap moaning and gagging so close to your clit and Ghost’s dick rubbing again and again against your clit, has you cumming embarrassedly quickly. And if it wasn't for the way Ghost moans against your neck when you clench your thighs together, pulling Soap’s hair again to keep him from sucking him, basically edging himself not to cum yet, you would be embarrassed. Instead, you are almost ready to cum again in mere seconds.

“It looks like Johnny is a bit needy right now, doll. Do you wanna sit on his dick, hm? Suck my dick while you do? Johnny has been talking nonstop about that little mouth of yours, birdie. Been driving me crazy.” He says as he kisses your neck, leaving it wet with his spit as he barely manages to speak properly. 

Soaps, still on his knees, sits on his feet, cock free and ready for you to sit on it. You hoist his lap, getting your knees on the floor sided to his forcing you to spread your legs. You rest your hands on his knees as you lower yourself, and moan in tandem with Soap once he is completely seated. 

Ghost grabs your hands, almost picking you up, and moves them to his thighs to allow you to support yourself. Soaps begin to move, slowly, letting you get adjusted to the stretch, as he begins to fuck you almost doggy style. It pushes you forward, and you moan against Ghost’s dick making him shudder.

You start to kiss his tip, soon getting your lips around it earning a moan of your name from Ghost. He caresses your head, brushing your hair away from your face. Soap grabs your waist, helping himself fuck you faster, skin slapping against your ass making you moan as you suck Ghost’s dick.

It is almost as thick as Soap's, but it's the way it hits your throats that makes the difference. Tears prick at your eyes, slowly falling down your cheeks, and when Ghost sees them he coos at you as he smears them on your cheek with his thumb.

You can see his half-open mouth thanks to his mask being risen, and you clench your cunt when you see him bite his lips to keep his moans from spilling out. Soap hugs you from behind, bitting your shoulder and begins to piston in and out of you. His hand goes south, rubbing at your clit and you grab Ghost’s thigh sticking your nails in making him hiss almost like a moan. 

“I'm gonna cum all over your pretty face, hm? Painted like a canvas, love.” He groans grabbing your hair. “While Johnny paints you inside, all ours, inside and out, love. Our little birds, all ours.”  He keeps mumbling, taking his dick out to jack it off in front of your face. 

You stick your tongue out while looking at him, and moan when Johnny change his speed, becoming sloppy and switching the speed with slower but deeper thrusts. He moans against your shoulder, biting again hard and that's enough to send you over the edge. Johnny and Ghost following you as if they were waiting for you. 

Ghost spents end up mostly in your mouth, but you feel the hot spurts settle on your face making you close your eyes. Soap sits down, stretching his legs, and he pulls you with him, softening your dick still inside of you. 

“I wish I could send Price a picture right now” Ghost says chuckling looking down at the both of you who chuckle too with difficulty to breath.

“I think… I think we should go shower again, bonnie.” Soaps says behind you, and you can only agree. 

Once cleaned, the three of you sit around the sofa ready to have dinner, quite delicious and gracefully, not burnt. 

“So, bonnie, ye wanna go on date?” Soap asks with his mouth full.

“I was gonna ask first, was swallowing my food.” Ghost says, almost scolding him.

“Actually… I thought about it, and I think I want to go on a date with…

Hii, how are you?!

The next chapter is your choice, bam, bam, baaaammm!!

Let me know if there is any kind of date or anything like that that you would like to happen, hehe.

Also, just an explanation in case anyone was confused. As I said, English is not my first language, which means I don't really know many idioms in English, and that plus the fact that when I can remember how they are I just make up my own, sometimes they lack some sense 🤣.

When in this chapter Ghost says: "But don't bury the corpse without killing it first." I was thinking about the phrase "to sell the bear's skin before catching it", but that one is actually the opposite, it is when you are a bit too optimistic about how things are going to play out. So I don't know how I ended up writing the corpse one, and then I remember the fact that Ghost was buried alive and it just... in my mind it made sense.

Sorry if it doesn't 💗

As always, thank you so much for reading and for commenting, love youu ❤️🌸

Taglist: @pagesfalling @thevoidwriting @darkangel4121 @tf141glory @skyler-loves-rick-grimes @ghostlythots @readerofallthingss @onewattson6529 @mynameismothra @xinyiline @shadowtfpcod @infpt-zylith@renabear88@lolliepopsicle @reap3erslov3 @tooloudarts @dontworryboutitokie @cassiecasluciluce @sodavrr @missmidnight-writes @anirok2 @lilliumrorum @ladyxtiger @multy-fandom-lover @thriving-n-jiving @lotionlamp @spicyspicyliving @xxeiraxx @vampirekilmerfic @keiraslayz

[xxspringmelodyxx]

"𝐼 𝒸𝒶𝓃'𝓉 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝒶 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔!"

┗━━━━━━⊱ 𝑯𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 ⊰━━━━━━┛

𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 @haydensjw 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒄𝒖𝒕𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕! 𝑰 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚 <3333

⊱ 𝑰𝒏𝒄𝒍𝒖𝒅𝒆𝒔: 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒖 𝑮𝒐𝒋𝒐, 𝑺𝒖𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒖 𝑮𝒆𝒕𝒐, 𝑲𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝑵𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒊, 𝑪𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒐 𝑲𝒂𝒎𝒐, 𝑻𝒐𝒋𝒊 𝑭𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒐, 𝑺𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒏𝒂 𝑹𝒚𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏 ⊰

𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿

─═✧✧═─ 𝕊𝕒𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕦 𝔾𝕠𝕛𝕠 ─═✧✧═─

You squinted at the blurry shapes around you, feeling a sense of frustration well up inside. Your contact lenses had disappeared into the abyss of your room, and your glasses had decided to break at the worst possible time. Navigating without them was like trying to walk through a dense fog. You tried to make your way to the living room, but every step felt uncertain.

Just as you were about to give up and crawl back to your bed, you collided with a firm chest. Strong hands steadied you, and you looked up—or at least tried to—into the familiar blur of Satoru Gojo.

"Whoa there, need a guide, princess?" His voice was filled with amusement, and you could almost see the teasing grin on his face.

"Very funny, Satoru," you muttered, feeling your cheeks heat up. "Can you help me find my way to the living room?"

"Of course," he said, taking your hand. "What kind of boyfriend would I be if I left my helpless girlfriend stumbling around in the dark?"

You rolled your eyes, even though you knew he couldn’t see it. "I’m not helpless. I just have a temporary visual impairment."

He chuckled and began to lead you down the hallway. Despite his teasing, his touch was gentle, and he navigated you through the obstacles with ease. "You know, you should really keep a spare pair of glasses."

"I usually do," you grumbled. "But they both decided to betray me today."

As you reached the living room, Satoru made sure you were comfortably seated before disappearing into the kitchen. Moments later, he returned with a glass of water and handed it to you. "Here, drink this. You look like you could use it."

"Thanks," you said, taking a sip. The cool water helped calm your nerves a bit.

Satoru sat down beside you, his arm draped casually over the back of the couch. "So, what’s the plan? Are we going to spend the day playing 'Guess What This Blurry Object Is'?"

You laughed. "Very funny. No, I was thinking about reading a book, but that’s clearly not happening."

He looked thoughtful for a moment. "How about I read to you?"

You raised an eyebrow. "You? Read to me?"

"Sure, why not?" he said with a grin. "I’ve been told I have a pretty decent voice."

You couldn’t help but smile. "Alright, fine. But you better pick a good book."

Satoru stood up and walked over to your bookshelf, scanning the titles. He picked out a book and returned to the couch, opening it to the first page. "How about this one?" He asked, reading the title to you.

You nodded, settling back into the cushions as he began to read. His voice was surprisingly soothing, and you found yourself getting lost in the story, despite the fact that you couldn’t see the words. It was a nice change of pace, and you appreciated the effort he was putting in to make you feel better.

As the day went on, you found yourself relying more and more on Satoru. When you needed to get up, he was there to guide you. When you wanted something from another room, he fetched it for you. His usually playful demeanor softened, and he took care of you with a tenderness that warmed your heart.

Later in the afternoon, you decided to tackle some chores. You tried to lift a box of books, but before you could even get a good grip on it, Satoru was there, stopping you.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked, a hint of sternness in his voice.

"Just moving some books," you replied, a little taken aback by his sudden seriousness.

"Not on my watch. You’re not lifting anything heavier than a feather, got it?" He effortlessly picked up the box and carried it away, leaving you feeling both cared for and slightly annoyed.

"Satoru, I can handle some light lifting," you protested, following him into the next room.

"Maybe on a normal day, but not today," he said firmly. "You need to rest your eyes and not strain yourself."

You sighed, knowing he was right but still feeling a bit frustrated by your limitations. "I just hate feeling so...useless."

He set the box down and turned to you, his expression softening. "Hey, you’re not useless. You’re just having a rough day. It’s okay to let someone else take care of you once in a while."

You looked up at him, your vision still blurry but clear enough to see the sincerity in his eyes. "Thank you, Satoru. I really appreciate everything you’re doing."

He smiled, pulling you into a gentle hug. "Anytime, princess. Now, why don’t you relax while I finish up here?"

You nodded, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over you. Despite the teasing and the jokes, Satoru had shown you just how much he cared, and it made you love him even more.

That evening, as you both sat on the couch, Satoru turned on the TV and put on your favorite show. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. "You know, if you ever need a guide dog, I’m available," he said with a wink.

You laughed, resting your head on his shoulder. "I’ll keep that in mind."

With Satoru by your side, you knew that even the blurriest days could be filled with love and laughter.

─═✧✧═─ 𝕊𝕦𝕘𝕦𝕣𝕦 𝔾𝕖𝕥𝕠 ─═✧✧═─

The battle had been intense. The curses had appeared out of nowhere, and you had been caught off guard. In the chaos, a powerful curse had lashed out at you, knocking you off your feet and sending your glasses flying. They shattered upon impact with the ground, leaving you virtually blind.

You struggled to get up, blinking rapidly in a futile attempt to clear your vision. The world around you was a blur, and panic started to set in. You couldn’t see the curses, couldn’t defend yourself properly. Your heart raced as you tried to make out the blurry forms around you.

"Hold on, I’m coming!" Suguru's voice cut through the confusion. He was fighting his way toward you, his powerful attacks taking down curses left and right. Despite the chaos, he never lost sight of you.

When he finally reached you, he immediately noticed your struggle. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

"My glasses," you managed to say, pointing to the shattered pieces on the ground.

Suguru's expression hardened. "Stay close to me," he ordered, taking your hand. He led you to a safer spot, his grip firm and reassuring.

With you safely behind him, Suguru unleashed his full power, vanquishing the remaining curses with a fierce determination. You watched in awe, even through your blurry vision, as he fought with precision and strength.

Once the battle was over, Suguru turned his attention back to you. "Let’s get you out of here," he said gently. He helped you up and guided you through the wreckage, making sure you didn’t trip or stumble.

Back at the base, Suguru sat you down and examined the broken pieces of your glasses. "These are beyond repair," he said, shaking his head.

You sighed, feeling a wave of frustration. "Great, now what am I going to do? I can’t see a thing without them."

"Don’t worry," Suguru said, his tone soothing. "I’ll take care of you until we get a new pair."

He made a quick phone call, arranging for a new pair of glasses to be delivered as soon as possible. In the meantime, he stayed by your side, guiding you through your daily tasks with unwavering patience.

"You don’t have to do this," you said, feeling a bit guilty for being so dependent on him.

"I want to," Suguru replied, his eyes softening. "You mean a lot to me. It’s the least I can do."

As the day progressed, you found yourself relying more and more on Suguru. When you needed to move from one room to another, he was there to guide you. When you wanted to eat, he described the food in front of you and helped you navigate your plate.

Despite the frustration of your impaired vision, Suguru’s presence made everything feel more manageable.

As evening approached, Suguru suggested going outside for some fresh air. "It might help clear your mind," he said.

You agreed, and he led you to a quiet park nearby. The sounds of nature surrounded you, and you felt a sense of peace despite your blurred vision. Suguru described the scene around you, pointing out the blooming flowers and the setting sun.

After a while, your phone buzzed, indicating that your new glasses were ready for pickup. Suguru accompanied you to the optometrist, guiding you carefully into the store.

The optometrist greeted you warmly and handed you your new glasses. As you put them on, the world snapped back into focus, and you sighed with relief. "Thank you so much," you said to the optometrist.

She smiled and nodded. "Remember, try not to push yourself too hard, especially with lifting heavy objects. Your eyes are sensitive, and overexertion can worsen your condition."

Suguru's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Overexertion can damage your eyes?"

You nodded, feeling a bit sheepish. "Yeah, it's something I've been warned about before."

Suguru looked at you with a mixture of concern and determination. "Then we need to be even more careful. No more lifting heavy things for you."

You crossed your arms stubbornly, “I appreciate your concern, my love, but I can’t just sit around and do nothing. I want to help.

He sighed, his expression softening, “I know you want to help, but your health comes first. We’ll find other ways for you to contribute without putting strain on your eyes.” I whined

"I just don’t want to feel useless," you insisted.

He sighed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you both walked out of the optometrist’s office. "First of all, you're never useless. But…fine. However, we’re going to find a balance. You can still help, but you need to listen to me when I say something is too much for you."

You smiled, appreciating his compromise. "Deal."

As you both left the optometrist, Suguru wrapped an arm around your shoulders. "I love you, you know.”

You smiled, feeling a warmth in your chest. "I love you more, Sugu. Thank you, for everything."

He squeezed your hand gently. "I’m always here for you. No matter what."

With Suguru by your side, you knew that even the blurriest days could be filled with love, support, and a sense of calm that only he could bring.

─═✧✧═─ 𝕂𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕠 ℕ𝕒𝕟𝕒𝕞𝕚 ─═✧✧═─

It was just another day at the school where you worked as a teacher. Your students were engaged in their assignments, the room filled with the quiet hum of concentration. As you adjusted your contact lenses, something felt off. When you rubbed your eyes, one of your contact lenses popped out and fell to the floor.

Panic set in immediately. Without your contact lenses, you could barely see past five centimeters in front of your face. You knelt down, squinting as you tried to find the tiny lens on the floor, but it was hopeless. The world was a blur, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to continue teaching like this.

"Miss, are you okay?" one of your students asked, noticing your distress.

"I’m fine," you said, forcing a smile. "Just misplaced my contact lens. Keep working on your assignments, please."

You managed to get through the rest of the class with the help of your students, who were more than happy to assist you with reading and writing tasks. As soon as the bell rang, you headed straight for the teacher’s lounge, where you knew Kento Nanami would be waiting. He was visiting the school for a guest lecture that day, and you felt a wave of relief knowing he was there.

Kento immediately noticed your struggle as you walked in, one eye squinting and your movements hesitant. "What happened?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

"I lost one of my contact lenses during class," you explained, frustration clear in your tone. "I can’t see anything properly."

Kento sighed and shook his head. "Come on, let’s sit down," he said, guiding you to a chair. He knew all too well about your terrible vision and the precautions you had to take to avoid straining your eyes.

"Thank you," you said, sitting down and rubbing your temples. "I just need to get through the rest of the day without making a fool of myself."

"You’re not making a fool of yourself," Kento reassured you. "These things happen. I’ll help you out."

For the rest of the day, Kento stayed by your side. He guided you through the hallways, helped you with your teaching materials, and even read out loud when necessary. His presence was a calming influence, and you found yourself feeling less anxious about your impaired vision.

When lunchtime came, you both sat in the lounge. Kento handed you your lunch, making sure everything was within easy reach. "You know," he said thoughtfully, "you really should consider carrying a spare pair of glasses or an extra set of contacts."

"I usually do," you replied, taking a bite of your sandwich. "But today has just been...off."

Kento nodded. "It’s alright. We’ll get through this."

As the afternoon wore on, you found yourself needing to lift some boxes of supplies for an upcoming lesson. Without thinking, you bent down to pick one up, but Kento was there in an instant.

"You know you shouldn’t be lifting heavy things," he admonished gently, taking the box from you. "Your vision could worsen with too much strain."

"I know, I know," you said, slightly exasperated. "But I can’t just sit around and do nothing."

"You’re not doing nothing," Kento countered. "You’re teaching and managing your classroom. Let me handle the heavy lifting."

You sighed but nodded, appreciating his concern. "Alright, but just for today."

Kento smiled, setting the box down on a table. "Fine."

As the school day came to a close, Kento escorted you to your car. "I’m glad you were here today," you admitted. "I don’t know how I would have managed without you."

"You would have found a way," he said confidently. "But I’m glad I could help."

─═✧✧═─ ℂ𝕙𝕠𝕤𝕠 𝕂𝕒𝕞𝕠 ─═✧✧═─

It had been a perfect day so far. You, Choso, and Yuji were hanging out at your house, enjoying each other’s company. The weather outside was perfect, and the atmosphere inside was filled with laughter and fun. Everything seemed to be going smoothly until disaster struck.

You and Yuji, in a burst of playful energy, started wrestling in the living room. It was all in good fun until Yuji, with his usual enthusiasm, accidentally knocked your glasses off. They fell to the floor, and before you could react, you both stumbled over them, hearing the dreaded crunch under your feet. Panic set in as you realized that your only means of clear vision was now in pieces.

Choso, who had been watching the two of you with amusement, quickly turned his attention to the broken glasses, his expression changing to concern. “Are you okay?” he asked, his eyes widening as he saw the broken pieces in your hand.

“I... I broke my glasses,” you said, feeling the panic rising. “And I don’t have any contact lenses because I’m too scared to touch my eye.”

Yuji chuckled lightly, trying to ease the tension. “Well, that’s a problem. But don’t worry, we’ll figure it out.”

Choso stood up and walked over to you, gently taking the broken glasses from your hands. “We’ll handle this. First, let’s get you to a place where you can sit comfortably.” He guided you to the couch and sat down beside you, his presence calming.

“I’m really sorry, guys. I didn’t mean to ruin the day,” you said, feeling embarrassed but not helpless.

“Ruin the day? Not a chance,” Yuji said, grinning. “This just makes things more interesting.”

Choso shot him a look but couldn’t help smiling as well. “Yuji’s right. We’re here to help. You’re not ruining anything.”

Choso took charge, making sure you were comfortable. He fetched a soft blanket and draped it over your shoulders. “Just relax. We’ll take care of everything.”

You nodded, feeling a bit better despite the situation. Yuji brought over some snacks and placed them within your reach. “At least you can still enjoy the food, right?”

You laughed, feeling the tension ease. “Yeah, I suppose so.”

As the day went on, Choso and Yuji took turns helping you navigate around the house. They guided you to the kitchen, made sure you had everything you needed, and even described the scenes in the movie you all decided to watch. Their playful banter and constant support made you feel less self-conscious about your predicament.

At one point, Yuji decided to make a joke. “You know, maybe we should get you a seeing-eye dog,” he said with a grin.

Choso rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his amusement. “Or maybe we just need to keep a closer eye on you.”

Despite the teasing, their efforts to make you feel comfortable and cared for were touching. Choso was especially attentive, always by your side, making sure you didn’t feel left out or incapable. His gentle manner and constant reassurances helped you relax and enjoy the day despite your broken glasses.

As evening approached, Choso suggested ordering your favorite takeout for dinner. “You deserve a treat after today,” he said, smiling warmly.

You nodded, feeling a wave of gratitude. “Thank you, Choso. And you too, Yuji. I don’t know what I’d do without you guys.”

“Hey, what are friends for?” Yuji said, handing you a plate of food when it arrived. “And no more stepping on glasses.”

You laughed, feeling much better. "Got it. Thanks for taking care of me."

He chuckled, pulling you closer. “You know, now that you’re kind of visually challenged, I think I’ll just keep you all to myself.” He leaned in and kissed your forehead gently.

You felt a rush of warmth as he continued, planting soft kisses on your cheeks, nose, and then your lips. “Choso, what are you doing?” you asked, giggling.

“Just taking advantage of the situation,” he murmured, his lips trailing down to your neck. “You’re so cute when you’re flustered.”

You blushed, feeling both embarrassed and delighted by his affectionate attention. “Choso, Yuji’s right there.”

Yuji laughed, shaking his head. “Hey, don’t mind me. You two lovebirds go ahead.”

Choso grinned, ignoring Yuji’s comment. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. “I can’t help it. I just want to take care of you,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.

You melted into his embrace, feeling his love and care envelop you. “Thank you, Choso. For everything.”

“Anytime,” he said softly, pressing another kiss to your temple.

The rest of the evening passed with Choso’s affectionate touches and constant care making you feel cherished. Yuji’s playful remarks kept the mood light, and you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the love and friendship surrounding you.

As the night drew to a close, Choso helped you get ready for bed. He made sure you were comfortable, tucking you in with a gentle kiss. “Sleep well, my love. Tomorrow, we’ll get your glasses fixed.”

You nodded, feeling content and safe. “Goodnight, Choso. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he replied, his voice filled with warmth. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to his body. You sighed happily, letting sleep take over your body.

─═✧✧═─ 𝕋𝕠𝕛𝕚 𝔽𝕦𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕘𝕦𝕣𝕠 ─═✧✧═─

The day had started like any other, with you excitedly preparing for your date with Toji. But as you reached for your contact lenses, disaster struck. They slipped from your fingers and vanished, leaving you practically blind without them. Panic set in, but you were determined not to let it ruin your plans. You convinced yourself you could manage without them for one day.

That decision proved to be more challenging than you anticipated. From the moment you stepped out of your house, the world around you was a blur. You squinted at the street signs, trying to make sense of the fuzzy letters. Crossing the street was a nightmare; you nearly stepped into oncoming traffic, thinking it was still the sidewalk. Toji had been quick to pull you back, his reflexes sharp, but his eyes filled with confusion.

“What’s wrong with you today?” he had asked, a mix of amusement and concern in his tone.

“Just a little off, I guess,” you had replied, forcing a laugh.

But as the day progressed, it became harder to hide your struggles. You walked into a shop and almost knocked over a display of delicate glass figurines, saved only by Toji’s quick intervention. You missed a step and nearly tripped, catching yourself just in time. Each mishap was a reminder of how dependent you were on your lenses, and how foolish it had been to leave the house without them.

Toji was patient, though you could see the worry growing in his eyes. He held your hand tighter, guiding you more carefully through the busy streets. It was a new side of him, this protective, almost tender manner, and despite your frustration with yourself, it warmed your heart.

However, when you walked into a lamppost, it was the final straw. The impact was minor, but the embarrassment was overwhelming. You wanted to sink into the ground and disappear. Toji’s reaction, however, was not anger or irritation, but genuine concern.

“Toji, I’m fine,” you insisted, attempting to brush it off as a clumsy mistake.

But Toji wasn’t buying it. He stepped closer, his intense gaze locking onto yours, the concern evident in his eyes.

“Tell me what’s going on,” he demanded, his voice firm yet gentle.

With a sigh, you finally confessed. “I lost my contact lenses this morning. My eyesight is terrible without them, but I didn’t want to cancel our date.”

Toji’s expression softened, a mixture of frustration and tenderness washing over his features. “You should’ve told me,” he said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “We’ll take care of this together.”

As he guided you carefully through the crowd, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of warmth. Despite the embarrassment, you knew Toji had your back, no matter what. He navigated you safely through the bustling streets, his protective presence reassuring you with each step.

You reached the restaurant, and Toji held the door open for you. Inside, the world was a blur of colors and shapes, but Toji’s presence was constant. He helped you to your seat, ensuring you were comfortable before sitting down himself. The waiter handed you a menu, but the text was unreadable to your unassisted eyes. You squinted, trying to make sense of the blurred words.

Toji noticed your struggle and gently took the menu from your hands. “Let me,” he said softly. He read the options to you, his voice steady and calm, making you feel at ease despite the situation. You chose your meal, grateful for his assistance.

Throughout dinner, Toji was attentive and caring, his concern for you evident in every gesture. He made sure you were comfortable, helping you navigate the unfamiliar surroundings. His thoughtfulness touched you deeply, and you realized how lucky you were to have him by your side.

After dinner, Toji insisted on taking you to an optometrist. “We’re getting you a new pair of lenses,” he said firmly. You protested, feeling guilty for ruining the evening, but Toji was adamant. “I don’t want you to go through this again,” he said. “Your safety is more important than anything else.”

At the optometrist’s office, Toji stayed with you, his presence a comforting anchor. The doctor examined your eyes and fitted you with a new pair of lenses. The world came into sharp focus once more, and you felt a wave of relief wash over you.

As you stepped out of the office, you turned to Toji, gratitude shining in your eyes. “Thank you,” you said, your voice filled with emotion.

Toji smiled, his hand gently squeezing yours. “You don’t have to thank me,” he replied. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

The rest of the evening passed smoothly, the earlier mishaps forgotten. Toji’s care and understanding had turned a potentially disastrous day into a memorable one. As you walked hand in hand, you felt a deep sense of contentment. You knew that no matter what challenges came your way, Toji would always be there to support you.

And that was a feeling more precious than anything else in the world.

As you walked back, Toji kept a close eye on you, occasionally making light-hearted jokes to lift your spirits. "You know, I always knew you were headstrong, but I didn’t think you’d take it literally."

You couldn’t help but laugh. "Very funny."

As you walked, Toji continued to make sure you were safe, guiding you around obstacles and keeping a steady pace. His hand never left yours, providing a constant source of comfort and reassurance. Despite the mishap, you enjoyed the rest of the walk, appreciating the way Toji took care of you without making you feel helpless.

When you finally reached your apartment, Toji helped you inside and made sure you were comfortable. 

"Thank you, Toji."

"Anytime, doll" he said, sitting beside you. "You really need to take better care of yourself."

"I know, I just didn’t want to ruin our day," you repeated.

He shook his head, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "Our day isn’t ruined. I’d rather you tell me if something’s wrong than try to tough it out and end up hurt."

You leaned into him, kissing him gently.

He smiled, ruffling your hair affectionately. "Just promise me you’ll let me know next time, okay?"

"I promise," you said, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. With Toji by your side, you knew that even the most embarrassing moments could turn into cherished memories filled with love and laughter.

─═✧✧═─ 𝕊𝕦𝕜𝕦𝕟𝕒 ℝ𝕪𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕟 ─═✧✧═─

You were spending the day at Sukuna's palace, a rare treat that involved wandering through the vast, ancient halls and admiring the eerie yet majestic beauty of his domain. Everything seemed to be going smoothly, although your glasses had been bothering you slightly. You didn’t want to complain in front of Sukuna, knowing how he could be about such things.

As the day went on, your discomfort grew, and you started to adjust your glasses more frequently, trying to keep them from slipping down your nose. Sukuna noticed but didn’t say anything, his crimson eyes occasionally glancing at you with mild curiosity. You didn’t want to make a fuss, so you tried to ignore it.

While exploring one of the palace’s grand libraries, you were reaching for a book on a high shelf when you lost your balance slightly. In the process, you knocked your glasses off, sending them crashing to the floor. They shattered into pieces, leaving you virtually blind.

Sukuna, who had been observing you from a distance, strolled over with a bemused expression. "Really? You managed to break your glasses? How clumsy can you get?"

You felt a flush of embarrassment. "I’m sorry, Sukuna. I didn’t mean to—"

"Of course, you didn’t mean to," he interrupted, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You’re practically blind without those things. How do you even manage?"

You sighed, feeling more embarrassed by the second. "I... I can’t see anything now."

He smirked, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "Well, you’re even more useless than usual."

Despite his harsh words, Sukuna guided you to a nearby chair and pushed you gently into it. "Stay here. Do not move," he ordered.

You nodded, squinting as you tried to make out his form in the blurry surroundings. Sukuna left the room, and you could hear him rummaging through drawers and cabinets. A few minutes later, he returned and handed you an ornate box.

"Here," he said, his tone still mocking but with a hint of something softer underneath. "These should help."

You opened the box and found a pair of glasses, surprisingly elegant and fitted with lenses that matched your prescription. "How did you...?"

"Don’t ask stupid questions," he snapped. "Just put them on."

You quickly did as he said, the world snapping back into focus. You looked up at Sukuna, who was watching you with a mixture of amusement and something else you couldn’t quite identify.

"Better?" he asked, folding his arms.

"Yes, much better. Thank you, Sukuna," you said, genuinely grateful.

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Just try not to break those, too."

Despite his harsh words, you could sense the underlying care in his actions. Sukuna might ridicule you for your clumsiness and poor eyesight, but he still made sure you were taken care of in his own way.

The rest of the day passed with Sukuna occasionally making snide comments about your vision, but he stayed close by, ensuring you didn’t have any more mishaps. When you ventured outside to the palace gardens, he guided you with a firm hand, grumbling about your "uselessness" but never letting you stumble.

As the day drew to a close, you found yourselves in the grand hall, a warm fire crackling in the hearth. Sukuna lounged on his throne-like chair, watching you intently.

"You're lucky I have a soft spot for pathetic creatures like you," he said, a smirk playing on his lips.

You smiled back, knowing that in his own twisted way, Sukuna cared for you. "I’ll try to be less clumsy next time."

"See that you do," he replied, but there was no real bite in his words.

Sukuna might never openly admit his concern, but his actions spoke louder than his taunts. And for that, you were grateful.

[highvern]

Houdini

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x f!reader

Genre: smut, hint of fluff at the end

warnings: drinking, allusion to drug use, sub hoshi likes when reader is mean to him, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, protected sex, reader calls hoshi a furry more than once, cumshot, hair pulling, reader wears bunny ears

Length: ~5.3k

Note: this started as a prologue to a different fic but i wanted it to become its own fic. danke @gyuswhore for being my torture subject as always as well as @onlyhuis @temptaetions @cheolism

Summary: The guy wearing a tiger onesie and ripping a bong in the corner might not be the most promising prospect of the night. But you've got a point to prove and a bet to win. series m.list: Green Light [s], Yuck [f], Talk [a, s, f], Casual [a, s, f], Mine [s], espresso [f, s]

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

The cramped living room is hazy with the smell of pot, cut by cheap led strip lights painting everything in violets and blues. Butt numb from the stiff armrest of the couch, you adjust the bunny ears on your head for the fifth time in the twenty minutes you’ve sat there.

Everyone else skitters around, dressed as different animals. More bunnies, a few cats, a guy dressed like a dinosaur hogging a joint. It’s someone’s birthday; a friend of a friend you’ve never met, but the promise of free alcohol before heading downtown isn’t even close to the worst way to spend your time. It’s why you fished out the dumb satin bunny ears from your closet; a relic from Halloweens past when you needed a cheap excuse to wear something scandalous in public with little judgment. 

June disappeared thirty minutes ago to find the birthday boy, leaving your entire group to mingle until she returns. 

You intently listen as Lily vents about her work crush for the nth time. His name is of no relevance, but she’s convinced herself it's love despite the fact he possesses fewer brain cells than a rock. A proven fact since he didn’t know the difference between consonants and vowels despite being well into his twenties.

“Why all the talk about relationships?” you interrupt. “Can we please have one night where we don’t talk about guys.”

“Some of us want boyfriends.” Anna rolls her eyes. 

“And yet, you can find one hundred percent of the benefits of one with zero effort. At least without all the mind games you two go through every week.”

“Easy for you to say.” Anna argues. “You’re like the poster girl for no-commitment sex.”

“I like what I like,” you shrug. “Not guys that say they want a relationship and then claim you're moving too fast when you ask him to treat you like a person.”

Lily gives an exasperated groan to the ceiling. “We get it. You hate romance.”

“I don’t hate it. I just like to be realistic. Most guys are good for one thing and I happen to admire them for that.”

“Do you realistically think you can get any guy here to sleep with you?” Anna asks. 

Any guy is a stretch. You’re easy but not without standards. Taken men are strictly off the menu. Along with weirdos or guys that look like they’ve never seen the inside of a shower. Anyone looking for a relationship typically removes themself from the running after figuring out you aren’t looking to be saved or changed, just a warm body that’s easy on the eyes.

“Pick anyone and if I pull him you owe me breakfast tomorrow.” You challenge them with a smirk. It’s slim pickings so early in the night, but nothing you can’t work with.

“Okay, then.” Lily agrees. “What about him?”

It takes you a moment to decipher who her manicured finger is pointing at. There's a small crowd in the corner of the room, guys too scared to mingle or uninterested in anything beyond their circle jerk. But he’s easy to spot; a tiger onesie and a dark crop of hair are all the details you get from this far away.

He seems to be the main entertainer of the bubble. Hands fly in different directions, chaotic but graceful. Now that you’re locked onto him, the boom of his voice floats under the heavy music. Tiger guy isn't your usual type. He’s lithe and lean; maybe a dancer or something athletic. You like them tall and domineering. It makes it that much sweeter when they try to dominate you, only to be beaten at their own game. Mingyu wasn’t your A-list fuck buddy for no reason. A damn shame he moved away at the end of last year.

But the man Lily’s picked will do what you need him to; prove a point and grant you a free meal. If you get at least one orgasm out of it then that’ll be a bonus. Chugging the last of your drink (which smells like nail polish remover and paint thinner had a very toxic baby), you drop the empty cup into Anna’s hand.

“And we want proof!” Anna calls as you stalk toward the far wall.

One of the other guys he’s talking to sees you approach, and you watch the way his eyes convey your presence, nearly bugging out of his skull. A gentle tap on tiger guy’s shoulder has him turning to greet you.

Confusion clouds his face. He’s cuter than you expected, with furrowed eyebrows and a pout that draws your eyes to his mouth with curiosity. You’ll find out their talents soon enough. 

“Hi,” you smile.

“Hi?” he parrots.

“I’m Y/N.” Eyes round with faux innocence, you make a point to take a few seconds staring at his mouth before meeting his curious gaze.

“Soonyoung.”

Soonyoung. The name rolls along your tongue easily. You light up at the way his eyes follow the curve of your mouth around the sound. It’s too easy.

Pushing forward, chest to chest; raising on your toes. You relish in another shiver at the brush of your mouth against his ear. “Is this your party?”

“Yeah, it’s my roommate’s birthday,” he says.

So that’s who June knows. 

“Cool. Wanna show me your room?”

“What?” You can hear the record scratch in Soonyoung’s brain; see the disbelief in his eyes.

Stepping into his space, your gaze burns a path from his lips to his eyes before you repeat, “your room?”

“Yeah, yeah. I can…definitely do that. This way!”

His own friends, still circled in the corner, gape in their own disbelief. Soonyoung has you charging through the crowded living room and down the hallway. Good. Even more bodies fill the narrow space but he nearly pushes them aside, waving off any grunts of discontent at his roughness.

You pass several doors on each side, all closed from prying eyes but you don’t have an interest anyway. His room is at the end of the long passage. A whiteboard with a crude image of a tiger and a rainbow hangs at eye level, coupled with ‘TamTam + Hoshi 5ever’ but you don’t have time to admire the art before you’re inside.

“So, this is it,” Soonyoung announces, hands wringing in front of his chest nervously. 

The tiger thing isn’t so much a coincidence and more of a theme. A poster of a tiger hangs on the wall above the dresser. But it’s not the worst of it. His bed hosts several plushies, all different sizes and shapes but certainly tigers. 

Whipping around, you eye him with incredulity. “Are you a fucking furry?”

“No!” He shakes like a bobblehead. Like he’s had to explain it dozens of times before. “It’s a joke! From college, with my friends.”

“A joke where you collect tiger memorabilia as a grown man?” You shoot back.

“It’s not that bad.”

Eyebrows flying to your hair line, you make a sweep of the room. “You have a framed picture of a tiger, are wearing a tiger suit, and have a miniature army of stuffed animals.” 

“Okay, maybe it is that bad, but I’m not a furry.”

If he was hiding more of the garish pattern out of sight you wouldn’t be surprised. For good measure, you fold over the blanket of his bed and sigh relief to find navy sheets instead of orange. You’ve slept with weirder guys for less but it’s nice to know he isn’t that weird.

“Whatever you say. But if you ask me to wear a tail, I’ll walk back out there and tell everyone.”

You peel your shirt off without another word. Once your vision is free of the fabric, you’re met with a starstruck man — mouth open, eyes skimming your chest, and what seems to be a half-chub tenting his pants. You revel in the silent awe rolling off him, preening at the attention. So easy.

But Soonyoung seems to come to his senses when you start working on the zipper holding together the back of your skirt shut.

“Woah, okay. We don’t have to go so fast,” he says, taking a step in your direction.

“So I should put my shirt back on?” You make for it like the threat is real.

“Let’s not be too hasty! I’m just saying, maybe we should, like, talk a bit first?”

Your feet carry you until there’s barely a breath between his body and your own. Soonyoung’s shirt brushes against your naked stomach with each stuttered breath as you eye his lips. “Well, do you wanna talk or do you want your dick sucked? Because I can only do one at a time.”

“Definitely the second one,” Soonyoung starts, dipping his hands to your ass for a harsh squeeze while shepherding you to his bed.

His mouth tastes like smoke and need. A disgusting combination if not for your tipsy brain easily ignoring it in favor of focusing on the roughness of his touch.

Soonyoung is eager, to say the least. He can’t touch you fast enough; hands darting from your ass, to your sides, to your breasts, and back down again. If this was happening at your apartment you’d tie him down and refuse to let him feel anything at all just to watch him squirm. 

You manage to flip him under you, pinning him in place with your thighs to rest across his lap like a throne. Taking the change in stride, he uses the new angle to mouth over your bra; sucking harshly at your covered nipples till they stiffen for his fingers to pinch at.

“Condoms?”

Soonyoung shakes his head. 

Digging the heel of your hand into his forehead successfully unlatches the suction around your nipple.  He pouts at the interruption.

“You don’t have condoms?”

“I do, but I’m not about to fuck you after two seconds of making out,” Soonyoung argues. “I‘m not even hard yet.”

Shocked by the sudden attitude, you huff before rolling your hips down. You're met with a familiar lump pressing into the crotch of your pants, and Soonyoung has the nerve to simply return to his previous task as you rock against him again.

“Liar,” you pant after a delicious drag of his teeth on your collarbone and his cock against your ass.

You stay locked like that for a while, writhing against one another as clothes come off without abandon. Your bra first, then the damn tiger onesie. Soonyoung gets you on your back before flipping up your skirt and pulling your panties to the side, revealing your drenched center.

He sucks a bruise on your nipple, tongue messy as he explores what’s between your legs with a gentle stroke of his fingers.

“Can I go down on you? Please say yes.” Soonyoung traces the request across your chest with more nips of his teeth. 

“You have to ask?”

“Consent is sexy.”

“You sound like a PSA,” you comment. “But, yeah go ahead.”

Your hips lift to aid in removing the last scraps of clothing. There’s no shyness as you spread your legs wide, flashing the aftermath of a good make-out session for Soonyoung eyes only.

“Oh my god,” he moans.

The heat of his breath fans across your folds, sending a shiver down your spine. He doesn’t even blink as you clench from the aching need to be filled with whatever he’s ready to offer,

“What?”

“This is gonna make me sound weird again, but you have a really pretty pussy.”

Not something any previous partners have chosen to comment on, but you preen under the compliment. “Thanks.”

“No. Thank you,” Soonyoung says before looking at the ceiling. “God, thank you so much for blessing me like this.” 

“Stop being lame or I'll leave.” 

“Sorry, you’re hot.” He says it like an accusation. “Just wanted to let the universe know I recognize that and appreciate it.” 

“How about you recognize the fact I’m drying up as we speak?” 

“No you aren’t,” Soonyoung argues. “You’re dripping on my sheets.” 

Your hand skates across your front, falling between your thighs. Like hypnosis, he watches with rapt attention as you frame your clit between two fingers, giving a clear target for his attention. 

“Then do something about it.”

With a hand fisted in his hair, he does. An aggressive suck against your clit without warm-up sends a tremor through your core. Your fingers knot in his hair, twisting until he’s forced away from your cunt with a petulant frown. 

“If you keep licking my clit like a scratch off I will make you cry.” A jostle of the bed tells how effective your words are. “Oh my god. Did you just?” 

“I’ve never been threatened in bed before, okay? I'm just as shocked as you.”

He hides the embarrassment by wedging back between your thighs, gentler than before, lapping away the new flood of arousal from his responsiveness. A thrill hums down your spine and settles where Soonyoung’s mouth returns to work. His shoulders burn hot against the underside of your thighs, every surge of muscle rocking you back into the slick of his tongue. 

“Fuck.”

“Better?” he asks around a mouth full of pussy.

There might very well be a crowd at the door listening to every lewd squelch and pathetic whine, but you don’t care. A little direction, a grind of your hips when he does well and the sting of your nails when he gets ahead of himself does wonders. Soonyoung is eager to please and impress. You could probably lay here for an hour without a complaint for him; if anything, he’d actively encourage such indulgence if it meant your approval. 

It makes the temptation to overwhelm him too sweet to ignore. 

One of the hands flat against your stomach falls away easily, knotting his fingers through yours because of course he’d be the type to hold hands during sex. It’s cute, but that fondness is stomped down for something safer. 

Like sucking two fingers between your lips like it's his cock.

Soonyoung grunts frustration straight into your core, refusing to watch you wet his hand even when you moan at the prod against the back of your throat. Another hump against the mattress as an edge of teeth drags over his knuckles. 

You can’t help but laugh as he scrambles to stretch you across them. He curls one slowly, like you’ll object. When you don't, Soonyoung adds the other and resettles your thigh so he can watch them disappear inside. His knuckles return even more soaked and even you can’t pretend it isn’t a turn-on. 

“Fuck, you’re so hot.”

Before you can respond, he’s licking away the fresh wave of wetness from his praise. It isn’t new information, but Soonyoung is impossibly earnest and you’re pretty sure if he came from eating you out he’d be just as satisfied as if you fucked him.

“Gimme a third.”

Soonyoung moans like he’s the one getting off as he does what you ask. 

Your legs lock, sore at the hips from being dragged to the edge so quickly. It bubbles just under the surface. Too far away where you can’t reach it but know Soonyoung can. He knows it too by the way you whisper his name. 

“If you touch yourself right now will you cum?” 

“Probably.” 

“Good.” You're overeager, just like the man between your legs, but the idea he can get off from eating you out can’t be ignored. “Show me.” 

“If you make me cum twice tonight I will talk to my therapist about you, so no.”

You whine a protest. Something that would sound far more responsible falling from his lips in the established dynamic, but you don’t care. One of your feet wedges between the bed and his crotch, toeing along the bulge still hidden behind a pair of thin boxers.

“Is it not enough that I might cum from you insulting me, you have to see it happen?” He asks. 

The picture behind your eyelids is nothing short of demonic; pulling Soonyoung’s boxers down and the inside sticky with cum, but his cock still hard because once is definitely not enough. Or streaks of white coating his chest and thighs, the perfect trail to trace your tongue over. 

You don’t even have a chance to share the fantasy before he splits you on his tongue again. Firmer this time, with a hard press to your knees that has you vulnerable and exposed. He keeps his tongue flat and heavy on your clit. Perfect to grind up against until you shudder.

Since you can’t get Soonyoung to give in, you settle for ruining any future encounter he might have by making a show.

Your fingers tickle up your stomach, nails raising goosebumps at the soft touch. Back and forth and back and forth, a little higher each time until you catch the hill of your chests and circle the hard peaks. There's no reason to ease into it, not when you sneak a glance down and find a pair of brown eyes framed between your legs.

The way he watches makes you feel dirty. Nipples pebbled between your fingers, you arch into his next move. His tongue stays flat for you to use. You curl into it, humping Soonyoung’s face like he’s nothing more than a toy to get off on. 

“Shit, shit, shit.” 

He’s definitely slipped a fourth finger inside. The stretch borders just on the edge of pain but you take it in stride. Soonyoung looks like he might cum before you do. 

“I’m – oh. Just like that.” You groan deep from your core. 

Your clit is throbbing with sensitivity as he continues to coax pleased sounds from your tongue. Heating from the inside out, your hands abandoned the torture on your chest in favor of keeping Soonyoung in place so you can rut against him.

A switch flips with your next moan. Hands on your stomach, your breasts, shoving your thighs out of the way as he digs into your cunt like the best meal the world will know. 

“Cum for me. Please let me see you come,” Soonyoung begs. 

Fizzling out, you do what he asks. Your stomach tenses for a second and then you fly off the mattress from locked muscles. 

Soonyoung doesn’t stop as you twitch, nor when you kick an ankle into his side. Maybe you go a little wet at the eyes as he forces you straight into a second orgasm without an ounce of reprieve but it's probably coincidence.

Soonyoung finally moves away at an inhuman whine. His mouth is stained with the taste of you, but he wears it well. It almost makes you want to push him back down and see if you can survive a third orgasm.

To stop from blindly following temptation, you roll until you’re sat in his lap. You must look as disheveled as you feel; sweaty and strung out. Ready for more.

“Wait,” he sighs with the pain of a man delaying his own gratification. “Wear these.”

The wrinkled satin bunny ears knocked from your head earlier come back into view. Soonyoung doesn’t  even pretend to be ashamed as he plants them back on your head before finding the dip of your waist again.

You hate the idea of giving in so easily, but Soonyoung’s need rolls off him in thick waves feeding straight to your ego.  “Oh, but you’re not a furry?” 

His cock fits well against the curl of your fingers as you stroke him, standing tall and proud from his lap. Oddly enough, you get his earlier sentiment. You’ve never thought of a dick as pretty but Soonyoung’s is nice. Red and leaking at the tip, you’re tempted to duck your chin and get a taste, but Soonyoung drags you up to his mouth before you can even make a good faith try.

“Stop being mean to me or I’ll bust a nut,” he whines.

“Can’t have that,” you snicker. “Condoms?”

“Drawer.”

The door slams open in your haste. It’s a mess of lube, sex toys, and random chargers. Who keeps a phone charger where their lube is? Too eager for the promise of such a pliable partner doesn’t leave with an interest in asking, and the way he continues to suck at your throat isn’t helping. Until you find something that stokes your curiosity even more.

“Soonyoung. What are these?” 

A set of fuzzy tiger print cuffs dangle from your fingers. The jokes write themselves. But you ignore the re-occurrence of orange and black because you really want to know if he likes bondage. (Hopefully it’s a yes. Even more hopeful is he likes to be on the receiving end.)

“Birthday present.”

“Your friends are weird,” you say. “Have you used them?”

He looks shy, like he hasn’t just asked you to don animal ears and ride him into the mattress. Handcuffs are nothing in comparison but you wait out the nerves flashing on his face. “Maybe.”

“On who?”

“Umm…”

“Have you been handcuffed?” 

Do you want to be? The idea is just another fantasy you’ll think about later in the dark of your room when you need a quick way to get off. 

“No.”

“Lame,” you tease before tossing them to the floor and shoving a foil packet into his chest.

Soonyoung’s ability to multitask is nonexistent. Not when your nipping his ear lobe and whispering how bad you want him to fuck you; how you can’t wait to feel him inside you; how big his dick is. Perfect flattery that makes him whine and fumble the condom over and over again until you grant clemency and do it yourself.

His hands are rough against your ass as you slip him inside, slow because you want him to suffer just a little bit. Your thighs scream in protest at the angle but Soonyoung looks at you like he’s watching a miracle unfold and the discomfort is more than worth it.

If there was time, you’d let him fuck you from behind just to see how he’d fair with such a visual, but this is already dragging out too long. Soonyoung looks like he needs more time to adjust to the way he’s digging in your walls than you do. So you keep theme and start bouncing on his cock just to watch him go insane.

“God,” he grunts, neck strained and a vein rising on his forehead. “You’re fucking tight. Shit.”

Your eyelids flutter shut in focus. “Keep talking. Tell me how it feels.”

“Feels amazing, oh my god. You’re so wet.”

Your pelvis tilts so he can meet each stroke from below. The slap of skin on skin drowns out any other noise; the music, the screaming partygoers just outside. If someone walks by his door they’ll figure out what's happening in a second. Makes you want Soonyoung to be louder.

“You’re so hard for me.” 

You sink flat until your ass is cradled against the firmness of his thighs. You use the leverage to sit up and give an uninterrupted view of your front; how your breasts bounce with each movement, where his cock sinks deep into your guts without any resistance.

“All for you,” he nods, eyes wild and unfocused. There’s sweat on his neck and you can’t fight the sick urge to suck against the muscle laying underneath. “Fuck you make me so hard.”

“Should’ve let me suck your dick.”

“I know,” he whines. An arm loops around your waist, crowding you into the sheets from a smooth flip. An open mouth kiss, really just panted breath and tongue, distracts you further. A thumb at your chin keeps you pliant to whatever he wants.

He rocks deeper, as if it's possible. Surges right into that spot that curls your chest tight with rough fluidity. Your thighs fold wide to give him room.

One of your hands rubs at your clit to catch up.

“God, yeah, touch yourself for me.” Soonyoung whines. “Can you come again?”

He’s not just a sub, he’s a sadist.

“I—”

“Please,” he begs with a hard rush. 

“Yeah, okay,” you mumble. “Fuck me harder. Make me cum on your cock.”

You dig your free hand in his hair, tugging until it stings at the roots just the way he likes. The reward is another harsh rut of his hips that leaves you gasping for air. 

“Fuck. Right there, baby,” you moan along with the sloppy noise echoing between your thighs. “Don’t stop.”

You scramble to grab his ass, pulling him flush against you for the perfect angle to batter your insides. Your skins on fire as you tumble closer and closer to that point of no return. 

“Soonyoung!” you gasp. It’s right there. That blissful ending is just a hairwidth away. 

“God, you’re so hot,” he folds in half as he says it, crushing you underneath his body until you're bent in half in his lap with the wet of his tongue at your jaw. “Cum for me, cum on my cock.”

You twist tighter under his insistence, shrinking and shrinking, and then — finally — it splinters. The waves rock through you, head forced back into the pillows from the force of moans wrecking your throat. “Oh— fuck, that—god. Oh.” 

Vision black against the inside of your eyelids, you melt into nothing. Only Soonyoung’s grip keeps you from shaking apart into a million pieces as you whine into his mouth. 

“Holy shit, that was so hot,” he’s rambling the way to his own end, hips shaky from the way you’ve wetted his cock. “You’re so hot. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You want to watch him cum. Even if the temptation to lay there and take it is sweet you won’t give in. 

Bangs sticking to his forehead with sweat, Soonyoung is a mess in his own right. Pink at the ears, lips bruised. You can’t get enough. His eyes darken as you suck along his thumb, tongue lashing against the sensitive pad. Soonyoung isn’t the only one that wishes you got to suck his dick. 

“Cum on me,” you whine. 

He pulls out, quickly tossing the condom aside. Your hand is already waiting to jerk him off over your body, the grease of the latex making the strokes smooth as Soonyoung fucks your fist with the same desperation as your pussy. It takes only a few thrusts before you feel the heat of his spend drip across your chest and stomach. You’re careful to stay still, body spread flat as he coats you in pale streaks. 

“Fuck,” he gasps. He twitches when you don’t stop, biting his tongue through the sting of overstimulation until he has to pull away.

Soonyoung collapses to the side. Shoulder to shoulder, you catch your breaths in the dull thump of music.

“That was fun.” You pat his stomach before standing. The floor is a mess of clothes needing to be plucked through. His shirt becomes a cum rag as you wipe away the mess staining your body.

“You aren’t gonna stay?” He calls from the bed. 

“No?” 

Why would I? you think while pulling on your underwear.

Soonyoung watches, splayed across the bed with his dick still wet in his lap. “Then, can I, like, call you sometime?” 

“No thanks.” 

“If you keep being mean to me I’m going to fall in love with you.”

 “Quoting New Girl isn’t giving me much incentive to be nicer,” you snort, untangling your bra. 

“It’s a great fucking show.” 

“Here’s a tip: if you want to fuck me again, stop being such a loser.” 

“You still let me hit so I think you like losers.” 

He’s smiling. You really need to find your underwear so you can get away from it.

“I like hot guys with big dicks,” you shrug. “You happen to be that.” 

“I know you want me,” he sings

“Dead, maybe.” 

“You’d miss my stroke game.” 

“I’d love to stroke you.” You coo. “With a bat. To the head.” 

“I love when you talk dirty to me, baby.” He groans with dramatic flair. “By the way, you have cum on your skirt.” 

You do, on the hem somehow. A mystery to be solved when you’re safely back in the crowded expanse of a party and not alone with the guy with a tiger fetish you might want to fuck again. “Not the first time.” 

“God…. Please give me your number.” 

You can’t swallow the smile blooming at his request. Instead, you turn to leer over him. He’s watching your mouth, licking his lips like he wants to drag you down for another tumble. “Keep begging.” 

He’s got enough humor to get on his knees and clutch his hands to his chest pathetically. You’re still close, watching him down the slope of your nose while hiding a smirk. 

“Queen of my dick, please bestow a crumb of kindness and allow me the pleasure of hitting you up at 3 AM.” 

“That time I almost caved.” You back away just in time for him to stumble over himself. “Too bad I don’t fuck guys into furry shit at 3 AM.” 

“One, not a furry. Two, who do you fuck then?” 

“One, you're not fooling anybody.” You take extra time straightening out your hair in the mirror just so he can stare at your ass. You feel him do it. “Two, myself.” 

“I will pay real money to see that.”

“I know you would. So you’re never gonna.”

He’s watching you like some lovesick fool, glowing in the light with ignorance of what comes next. Part of you doesn’t want to crush someone as earnest as he is but staying the night is out of the question when you can still hear the party rattling through the walls.

“If I give you my number,” you start. “You have to give me this.”

It’s one of the smaller plushies. Soft to the touch and attached to his keys hanging by the door. It’s cute and perfect enough to satisfy your friends’ demands. Also, an excuse to see him again if you really want.

 Maybe you do. 

“TamTam?” Soonyoung asks from your side. You didn’t even hear him approach but he’s got boxers on so it took him a minute.

“You name your stuffed animals?”

“TamTam is special.” 

“Oh, he is?” you ask. “Well, how bad do you want my number?”

“I don’t know…” Soonyoung starts. 

Your face stings at the rejection but you bury it before giving it a chance to fester into something that needs thinking about. Looking back in the mirror to correct the smudges in your make is the only cover you’ve got.

“Okay,” he nods. “But if you do anything to him I will actually cry.”

TamTam is thrust into your hands and you can’t help but smile. It’s cute. Soonyoung is cute. And it actually might make you explode. 

You hate it.

“I pinky promise I will throw myself in front of a bullet for TamTam.”

He locks his pinky around your extended one, “Good.”

And then he’s kissing you again. Every thought melts away under his lips, soft against your own with a new sweetness. The edge of the dresser digs into your spine as he crowds you against it for more leverage but it’s merely an afterthought.

Soonyoung (not a furry): btw i lied [12:15 AM] Soonyoung (not a furry): im not hitting you up at 3am [12:15 AM] Soonyoung (not a furry): what are you doing tomorrow night (pls say me) [12:16 AM] You: tamtam and i are busy [12:33 AM]

Maybe you smile at the string of intelligible letters you receive after sending the picture of you kissing TamTam’s cheek. It’s no one's business if you do anyway.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie

@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire

@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi @writingbarnes

@dokyeomkyeom @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @idkjustlovingbts @wobblewobble822 @futuristicenemychaos

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

the queen of ice. l Joel Miller

Summary: you got into trouble when the ice broke beneath you, and it wasn't just because of your wet clothes

Warnings: +18 smut, swearing, unprotected sex (don't do that), talking about nonsense, Joel is romantic but we all know what he means

A/N: I don't know how it happened, but it happened. I hope you like it at least a little bit

It was a second. Just a second.

"Joel?!"

Your voice broke, and after a moment you disappeared under the layer of ice that split under your feet. He already knew that he would never forget this moment.

Just a few minutes ago you were arguing about some stupid thing, or at least now it was stupid to him. His heart stopped for a moment and eyes widened in utter terror.

“Y/N?!” Joel called out, running towards the dark surface of water.

He slipped on the icy snow, but quickly got up, afraid to lose even a second.

You didn't know what happened. You heard a soft crack and you knew you were in trouble. In the next few moments, thousands of needles pierced your body as you plunged into the icy water. Your brain just shut down. But your body wanted to fight.

Taking your first breath of the cold air was another torture. But you couldn't let go. Your clothes were incredibly heavy, but you tried as hard as you could to get to the shore.

Someone grabbed your arms tightly and pulled you onto the icy shore.

Joel...

He hadn't been this scared in a long time.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" he repeated as he tried to feel any injuries on your body with his hands.

“C-Cold…” you muttered, “F-Fuck.”

"How did this happen?"

"It just c-crack."

You let out a moan, your whole body hurting incredibly. 

You would give anything not to feel all this. Your muscles contracted and tensed, and your entire body was covered with wet clothes that stuck to you like duct tape. It took you a moment to realize that you were grinding your teeth and that your lips and fingers were twitching from lack of control.

Someone took you in their arms and lifted you from the ground, quickly heading towards the nearby buildings.

Joel...

Just like for you, for him, every minute felt like at least an hour. When he took you in his arms, he felt as if he had lifted an ice sculpture.

If his heart had stopped for a moment before, it was now pounding like crazy in his chest. The faint wisp of steam rising from between your lips signaled that you were alive, but if he didn't quickly find a place to hide you from the cold, if he didn't warm you up...

He didn't want to think about it. You were already close to the first building and Joel opened the door by hitting it with his shoulder. He rushed into the dusty room that must have been the living room and placed you on the couch.

"Y/N? Y/N?" he repeated your name nervously. “Are you still with me? Say something?”

"I-I'm not a c-closed case yet." you whispered, a faint smile gracing his face for a second.

"It's not funny." he replied, "But if you keep talking nonsense like that, I guess it will happen." his fingers quickly found the zipper on your jacket. “You have to take off these wet clothes or you'll freeze.”

"I h-haven't done it yet?"

The jacket, sweatshirt, shirt and t-shirt were all sticking to your body that it took Joel a while to get it off. When he grabbed your jeans, something that was probably supposed to be laughter escaped your throat.

"T-That's the worst p-part." you said.

"Yeah, I imagined it differently too." he replied, struggling with your jeans. “Don't move. I have some shirts in my backpack. Maybe we can find some blankets.”

You curled up on the couch as more shivers racked your body.

He pulled his flannel shirt out of his backpack and with a little help from you, he managed to put it on you since your fingers were stiff. He threw his jacket over you and then quickly started searching the house.

You heard the sound of his footsteps as he searched each room. The cabinets opened and closed with a bang. You wanted to close your eyes so much.

"Fuck!"

The sound of falling chairs reached your ears.

"Y/N? Are you still there?" he shouted from upstairs.

"I think so." you replied hoarsely.

"Talk to me! I want to hear you!"

You rested your head against the headrest of the couch and closed your eyes slightly. In a strange way, the cold was subsiding. It wasn't as bothersome anymore.

“Y/N?!”

The violent jerk sent your head flying forward like a rag doll.

"Hey! Don't fall asleep, Y/N." Joel patted your cheek and you opened your eyes for a moment. “Good girl. I found something that... What the hell are you doing?”

"It's so hot in here, Joel. So fucking hot!"

"Put that back on! Jesus, you're such a pain in the ass, but now you have to listen to me!" Miller pulled your shirt back over you and then threw some blankets over your back. “You're going to stay here and not move, do you understand me? Naaah! We're awake, Y/N!”

"You're such a whiner, Joel." you whined, "Okay, I won't sleep. I won't."

"Talk to me, okay? Damn, your legs are so cold!"

He started rubbing your legs to restore circulation, and you tried to focus your eyes on something so as not to think about how terrible the situation you were in.

"You were supposed to talk to me." Joel said after a moment.

He seemed a little calmer now, but he didn't stop rubbing your cold legs. Your gaze fell on his dark hair sprinkled with gray, and those adorable wrinkles around his eyes that became more pronounced when he smiled.

"I wish you would smile more often." you finally said.

"You're not giving me a reason to do that now, Ice Queen." he replied, but despite everything, you saw a slight smile on his face. “You almost made me have a heart attack. Don't do that again.”

"I can't promise. It's kind of nice to have someone take care of you."

"I always care about you."

"By calling me a pain in the ass?" You muttered in mock anger.

"Because you are." Joel reached for your hands. “You're freezing. I need to make you something warm to drink right now.”

"You shouldn't light a fire. Someone might find us."

His hands were so pleasantly warm that your skin almost melted under his touch.

"It's getting dark now. I can handle it. How are you feeling?"

"Better, although my underwear is still cold."

"I can help you take it off." Joel said, but then he realized how it sounded. "Or I can leave and you deal with it yourself."

"Yeah, I guess I'll do that."

A dozen or so minutes later, you were holding a cup of warm water in your hands. Joel was trying to prepare something to eat, and he hung up your clothes because you both hoped they would dry before you left the place. Outside, the snow was falling more and more, but you closed the curtains and in the dim light, the room seemed quite nice.

"A farm? I can't imagine you could live in a place like that."

"Why not? What's wrong with that?" you laughed and adjusted the blankets that were wrapped around you.

Joel kept insisting that you talk to him because he was afraid it wouldn't be safe for you to fall asleep yet. You, on the other hand, thought that, as usual, he was exaggerating and being overprotective.

"You seem like a city girl." he replied, handing you what had previously been canned soup.

"There are probably no such people in today's situation, don't you think?"

"Maybe. But the farm?" Joel sat down next to you and took a sip of soup. “What would you be doing there?”

"You're mocking me, Miller!" you nudged his shoulder. “I don't know what I would do exactly, but we're talking hypothetically, right?”

Joel nodded.

"I think I'd have chickens, a little garden. And a swing."

"Why a swing?" the man looked at you surprised.

"For the kids, right? I wouldn't live there alone. Nice guy and a couple of kids, sounds good."

He nodded and thought for a moment. For a moment, your vision appeared in his head. It was nice. He could easily imagine the small farm, the kids running around the house, and those damned chickens.

"And you?" your voice broke him out of his thoughts. “What would you do if you could choose?”

"I want a quiet life." he replied after a while, "Nothing special."

"There will be a peaceful life on my farm. And there will definitely be a place for you." you set the empty cup down and turned around so you could see Joel more clearly. “The chickens shouldn't bother you.”

"What about the children? Or their father?"

"You're ruining my dream, Miller. I offer you peace and a quiet life on my farm, and you make me realize that the chances of all this happening are tragically low."

"Okay, okay! I'll take this room." he held up his hands in surrender. "Even though I know I'll get in trouble for this."

He finished his meal calmly, and the farm in his head grew more and more. He could find a house near Jackson, you'd be close to a safe place. The garden would be behind the house, near a tree where he would hang swings. He's already seen you on some rocking chair on the porch. It was nice.

“Listen, Y/N…” he started, but all he heard was your quiet and steady breathing.

You fell asleep.

A sudden movement to his right made him wake up immediately. The room was dark. The door was securely secured so he knew you were safe. He glanced quickly in your direction.

You were shaking all over. Even though you were wrapped in blankets, your whole body was shaking with shivers.

“Y/N?” Joel whispered as he moved closer to you, "Hey, I'm here."

“It's cold…” you whispered, “It's gotten so cold.”

He hadn't noticed that the room had gotten much colder in those few hours, but you weren't pretending.

"Come here." he murmured softly and turned you around so you could snuggle into him. "Will it be okay if I slide under your blanket? You'll be able to warm yourself with my body heat."

"Yeah, I guess so."

Why did Joel have to be so warm? You felt like you were hugging a hot radiator. His warmth transferred to you, his hands rubbing your shoulders and you hugged him so tightly you were surprised he hadn't started complaining yet.

You had never been this close to each other before and you both started to realize it.

There was nothing inappropriate or uncomfortable about it. It was quite the opposite, you fit his body perfectly. You felt no fear, just a little excitement. Although your body was still trembling slightly.

"Joel?" you whispered, and when he murmured softly, you added, "I'm not bothering you? Maybe you're uncomfortable?"

"It's okay. Stay."

Your leg was on his lap and when you moved slightly, you suddenly felt it. A bulge in his jeans that didn't mean Joel had anything in his pocket.

He flinched and you froze.

"Joel?"

"Mhm."

"If you were uncomfortable, you would definitely tell me about it, right?"

"Definitely."

So you decided to take a risk. Your hand slowly and carefully slipped under his shirt. Joel didn't say anything, didn't even flinch as your hand slowly moved under his shirt.

"Joel?"

"Yeah?"

"Is it because of me?"

You ran your thigh over his bulge and it twitched.

"I'm surprised you even asked." he replied, his voice extremely low. "If you do that again, I can't promise I'll behave like a gentleman."

"Maybe you don't have to?" your thigh shifted slightly again and in that moment Joel was above you, trapping you between his arms.

"I guess you don't feel so bad if you're having fun provoking me, huh?" he said, his eyes darkening. "Ever since you started feeling better, all I can think about is that you're completely naked and wearing only my shirt. You little brat."

"I've been a brat before, but somehow that didn't provoke you."

"You don't even know how many times I thought about you while lying alone in bed. Or when you were on guard duty."

His thigh slipped between your legs and you felt his bulge rub against your clit. You didn't expect that you were so horny, but your reaction was just a signal for him to attack.

Joel kissed you hard and fierce. His tongue slipped into your mouth, drawing dirty moans from you. Your fingers ran into his hair and you pulled him even closer to you. His weight on you felt so good that you felt like you had waited too long for this. A strong hand clamped down on your breast, fingers pinching your nipple lightly.

"Do you like it?" Joel murmured into your ear, "We don't have enough time for me to do with you everything that's been on my mind for so long. Take this as a teaser."

He sucked on the skin of your neck and you knew he was marking you. You were his.

He lifted your shirt to give him easier access to your breasts. With a soft purr, he kissed your breastbone, then enclosed your soft breast in his hot lips, sucking and teasing your nipple with his tongue. A moan of pleasure rose from your throat.

His thigh kept rubbing against your clit, teasing you more and more. Joel's mouth moved to the other tit and the cold air gave you goosebumps. You somehow managed to undo his belt and, despite the lack of space between your bodies, you slipped your hand into his jeans.

Now he moaned, almost like an animal, as your hand closed around his manhood. You moved it steadily, feeling the pre-cum on his shaft.

"I want you." gasped Joel, "If you want me too."

"Give me everything you can. I can take it."

Joel pulled out his cock with his free hand. He spread your legs and his hand ran over your folds. You were already so wet.

"Next time I want to taste you. Now I just want to be inside you." he said and you felt his tip slide into you.

He slowly entered you, your body adjusting to his length, and when he was all the way in, he stopped. You could see Joel's face right above you, his eyes were burning, but as soon as you stroked his cheek he smiled mischievously at you.

"Hold on to something, baby." he said and then his hips started moving hard.

You were wrong to think that his entire cock was inside you. By now he was pounding into you so deep that your hands managed to tighten on Joel's shirt at the last second.

"Fuck!" you moaned loudly.

More hits and more. Were you able to bear it? You didn't even know when Joel had freed himself from your arms, grabbed your wrists and pinned them with his hands just above your head. Now there was nothing stopping him from destroying you.

"That's right, baby. You take it so well." he breathed into your ear, "I've been dreaming of feeling you on my cock. With those sweet tits in front of my face."

You were already on the edge and Joel wanted to push you straight into the abyss. He knew no mercy. Every thrust that followed was harder, every word he said drove you crazy. When you felt his lips close over your nipple again as he sucked on it, you thought you were going to go crazy.

"Joel!" you moaned, "I..I'm..."

"C'mon, baby. I'm holding you." he gasped, "Let it go."

Your walls clamped down on his cock and your body arched as you reached your peak. Pleasure spread through every cell in your body, but you could still feel Joel moving inside you. His breathing was quick and shallow, his hips bucking hard against you. A few more moves and he pulled out, spreading himself on your stomach with a loud groan.

“Fuck…” he panted, falling next to you, “You’re going to destroy me.”

"I could say the same about you." you replied, trying to catch your breath.

Joel got up and wiped your stomach with a cloth, then wrapped the blanket around you again and pulled you closer to him.

"You made a fucking mess of my brain." you laughed softly. “If I had known earlier that you could do such things...”

"Let me catch my breath and I'll show you even more. I want to taste that delicious pussy, and your clothes won't be dry for a while, so I don't have to rush."

You felt excitement starting to bubble between your legs again. This man was your curse and salvation at the same time. He had just blown you to pieces, and you were politely waiting for him to do it again.

"I think I could live on that farm of yours." Joel said after a while, "I guess it could work."

"What about my husband? Are you not afraid of him anymore?"

"Naaah. Besides, I'll be the only one fucking you anyway. No one else will get you."

You lifted yourself up on your shoulder and kissed him lightly. Joel was right, you still had plenty of time. Not only to dry your clothes...

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[dakotadraws06]

Ep 1 of over analyzing Mordecai’s character/Talking about things I missed in my original read through of the comic.

I wanna talk about Mordecai desperation in the Gracie interrogation because I noticed a small detail about the speech bubbles that no one else (that I’ve seen) has said before.

Look at the way Mordecai’s second bubble is written. The way the letters seem more spaced out and the text is slightly off. I’m not sure if it’s a completely different font or it’s the same font, just changed.

“That’s how you live through tonight.” You can almost hear (and visually see) the grit in his teeth as he stares down at Gracie. His desperation. His NEED for answers being in his grasp and if he doesn’t get them now, he may never again. It happens again in another panel.

“A Name, Please.” Gracie isn’t reading the room correctly, Mordecai knows if the twins catch him, they will most likely both be dead (or at least Gracie will be). He NEEDS a name, same grit and desperation. The way Gracie spits out Drago’s name quickly because he realizes how serious this is just by Mordecai’s tone. Mordecai wants a name so in the worst case scenario Gracie is killed, he has the information he needs. But also, he’s desperate for answers to Atlas’s death. At the point of these scenes, it’s been a year and some time since Atlas died. I can imagine Mordecai is running out of steam, loose end after loose end, road block after road block, it’s exhausting both mentally and physically. He is RISKING HIS LIFE for this information, Gracie says so in this conversation. But we get to see that exhausted side of him too.

LOOK AT THOSE EYES. His posture, the hand his hand rests in his fur, his eyebrows furrowed. He. is. tired. It’s no wonder why he is asking help from Gracie cause he’s been doing this alone for the better part of a year and some change.

I’m so confident that he is thinking about all the possible outcomes and consequences that will come from even getting a PINCH of trust out to Gracie, which is why he doesn’t go along with his plan. But Mordecai sort of switches up on him.

“Gimme a name, anything you want, I’ll let my informant know I KNOW it was Marigold who killed Atlas May, then I’ll disappear like the dead.” (Not the exact words, a vague memory of it)

“Give me the name of your lawyer and I’ll make sure you stay alive tonight.”

Gracie is putting his life in Mordecai’s hands because I’m sure Gracie can see he’s desperate and knows if he gives him a bullshit answer, Gracie would most likely die by Mordecai’s hands.

Mordecai is exhausted. Mordecai is desperate for a good lead and some answers. And Tracy has done a FANTASTIC job at showing it through this entire interrogation.

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

So request kinda if not just sharing my thoughts in general.

Alex. My boy. What if reader is a civ or even another soldier in a different squad and the whole thing with him joining Farah’s forces indefinitely. I think this can really lend itself to some angst and that good old misunderstanding. Kinda leaning towards civ!reader just because the more miscommunication. I guess it’d have to be an angsty ending though 😳, but regardless-

Love your writing and, as always, feel free to change anything or do whatever gives you the most inspiration

World Caves In

PAIRING: Alex Keller x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Perhaps it would have been better if your husband had died - at the very least you could understand that.

WORD COUNT: 7.9k

WARNINGS: Angst, misunderstandings/miscommunication, hurt/comfort, vulgar language, abandonment?, Alex being an adorable husband, fluff, etc.

A/N: I was gonna make this an angsty ending but I got my period and thinking about that made me cry so here we are, lmao. Enjoy, Anon!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

When you’d been escorted out of work by two uniformed men, you knew the news wasn’t going to be good. Sitting in the back of a large black car, you spare nervous glances as the vehicle jumps, its wheels going over the last speed bump. Your work building begins to become a fraction of a memory and disappears faster than your resolve. 

The men sit on either side of you, silent, and the only comment is to the driver as you all enter the main road. Swallowing, you part your lips and mutter, plain dread in your tone, “Is he alive?”

All you get is a glance from the front mirror and nothing more. You hunch more in your seat and stew in agony, mind far off on the topic of your husband. 

Alex wasn’t overly reckless, you’d managed to snuff most of that out over the course of the many years you’d expressed concern to him about it, but a large chuck of the blond was still too selfless for his own good. It was hard not to think the worst. 

From training to advising, your husband was always off on one mission to another, far from your quaint and quiet home here—where you waited day after day for even a sliver of contact from him. Alex specialized in so many things that trying to wrap your head around it was impossible.

Even now, you only knew the bare minimum. 

The soft-smiled man worked in the SAD division of the CIA. He’s an Operations Officer. Currently, he’s somewhere across the globe. 

Away from you.

Thinning your lips, you take down a deep breath and settle back into the seat, pulse flying. The men were obviously Agents—you’d looked closely at their badges when they’d first shown their faces at the front desk and had kept within view of your work’s security cameras just in case this was a ruse. When you could find nothing out of the ordinary, you had tensely asked them what was happening. 

They would be holding his dog tags if he was dead, you had reasoned, desperately, a flag. 

It was frantic, the way you had thought that up; how could you not be like that? Alex was the light of your life! With him constantly putting his life on the line, it was inevitable for him to get hurt, sometimes seriously. It was ingrained into your mind the way you would help clean his wounds in the middle of the night when the pain woke him up with a grunt stuck in his throat. The way you would sit half-asleep in his lap and re-wrap bandages while he told you to go back to bed half-heartedly. His hands drifting over your warm skin like he was cascading his fingers up and down the spine of an old book.

You never listened. 

“It’s late, Bug, I can’t keep you up like this.” His drawl echoes in your ear as you rub a heavy palm into your eye. Alex’s hands are both on your hips, squeezing the flesh just below your tiny sleep shorts. You have him sitting on the floor, back resting on the wall and shirt discarded to the side only wearing loose gray sweatpants. A long cut up his left pec is the center of your blurry attention—a wet rag held as you dab at it. Blue eyes narrow at you. “I’m just fine with doing it myself, y’know.”

“You’re being stubborn again,” you utter, the soft light of the bathroom placed at half-capacity to at least try and keep some of the veil of sleep over your heads. “I told you to wake me up when you needed it cleaned.” Your skin brushes his and Alex shivers under you, sighing breathily. “And you’re not keeping me here—I’m helping.” 

A small flash of that full smile, mustache flinching up, “Well when you look so pretty sleepin’ I can’t just shake you awake and tell you to fix me up.” 

You take your free hand and pinch his nose, yawning as he grunts out chuckles. A delicate glance is thrown his way as the rag lowers from reddened skin. Like a butterfly's whisper, you study his face gently; reaching and cupping his cheek with your palm. 

Alex’s lids flutter, heavy weight falling into you as if waiting for this—lips pressing to your inner wrist in reverence. You hold back a tired giggle and feel the corner of his mouth pull up when he feels it.

“All that talk, and yet,” pressing a smooch to his forehead you take your hand back and hear the grumble he lets out after, “you still like it better when I’m the one that’s working on you.”

“Can’t complain too much,” he admits slowly as his head leans back to tap the wall, “my wife’s hands are way softer than mine.” 

Alex’s grip on your flesh tightens when you sipe away the last line of crimson from the wound, tattooed arms flexing. 

“Sorry,” you whisper, watching his eyes slightly awash with pain. “Got caught on a stitch.”

“Ah, well,” the blond sighs, shifting “I suppose I can forgive you.” 

Laughing quietly as the house settles, you shake your head and rest your forehead on his. 

“Such a saint,” your lips utter teasingly as Alex smiles wide, his hands moving higher to your waist. You lean into him, stealing his warmth as your tired eyes flutter; feeling his thumbs run circles over the flesh of your lower spine. 

A content breath escapes you.

“Go back to bed, Sweetheart,” Alex whispers, lips brushing yours like silk, the bristles of his facial hair tickling you. “I can do the rest, promise.”

“Know you can,” your mutterings are barely heard, but the man seems to register them, sea-glass gaze incredibly soft. He chuckles at your sleepiness, one hand leaving your waist to capture the back of your head; weaving into your hair and gently massaging your scalp. You practically melt into him, limbs going slack, slurring out, “Quit it. Wanna help, Alex.”

His laughter shakes you, and with a huff escaping, you bury your burning face into his neck and lean into him, careful of his wound even in your fatigued state. 

“No offense, Bug,” Alex shifts, grunting as he easily maneuvers you until you’re laying in his arms, inked forearms under your knees and behind your shoulders with vivid images of grim reapers, snakes, and angels guarding you close. A kiss is firmly pressed to your forehead as the blonde smirks downwards, “But you’re about as helpful to me right now as an empty mag.”

You grumble, trying to disappear into his skin and letting him dig his stubble into your cheek. 

“If you bring me back to bed before you’re done,” you yawn and close your eyes, “I’m divorcing you.”

He laughs deeply into your ear, body shaking as he pulls back and sends you an incredulous look. 

“Hell, we can’t have that, can we, Mrs. Keller? I’d lose my damn mind.” 

It’s a long drive, and you worry through the entirety of it. A primal, whole-body-shaking type of fear. You’d built a life with Alex and loved him more than anything or anyone that had come before. Even if he was gone a lot, that had never dulled what the two of you had—your marriage was nothing short of something you would find in a fairy tale; flashing pictures on pages with vivid colors and tender glances. The very cover itself is made of the finest leather and inlaid with gold calligraphy. 

Please, Alex, you plead in your head as you remember his loving gaze—his back as he makes supper in the kitchen and hums to himself. Please be okay.

The men hold open the car door when it comes to a stop outside a very obviously abandoned apartment complex near the outskirts of town. You get out quickly. Looking around, you take in the overgrown grass and the broken concrete with a knife in your lung; holding back the flood of anxious tears. 

Though, confusion takes president. 

“Where did you…?” You turn to look at the Agents, but they’re already clambering back into their car and snapping the doors shut. Wide-eyed and slack-jawed you watch them speed off as a cloud of dust drifts into the air. 

Pulse echoing in your ears, you watch the vehicle speed down the road and disappear. 

Swallowing, you whisper, “What the actual fuck?” Turning in circles, no one else is around. A part of you starts to worry less for Alex and more for yourself.

They were CIA, you reiterate, I checked their badges—Alex showed me the standard ones. Could I have missed something? 

Expression nervous, you shift on your feet before your stuttering legs take you closer to the abandoned building, not really seeing much choice here. You could imagine the scene from The Wizard Of Oz—when the man pulls back the curtain and all is revealed. 

That said, you could really only hope that was what was actually happening to you and you weren't getting kidnapped or shot. Taking a deep breath, you clench your fists and enter the building through the open front door. 

It was in the wide lobby that you locked eyes with Kate Laswell. You blank, mouth parting as the scent of concrete and decaying furniture get stuck in your nose. 

The woman seems highly agitated, brows tight and jaw clenched. Her white blouse had been flattened multiple times by rough hands, lanyard swaying on her neck like Alex’s dog tags would. She holds a file in her hands; the paper bulky as if holding something more than just paper inside its manila clutches.

“Kate?” You ask, confused, “What are you doing here? What’s all of this about?” Taking quick steps forward you splay your hands as your voice grows more serious. “Where’s my damn husband?” 

You didn’t know Laswell personally, in fact, when you had first got a glimpse of her here, you’d forgotten the older woman’s name for a moment. The first meeting between the two of you had been at a CIA get-together that Alex had been forced to go to because of his position—some celebration because a group of ICBMs had been taken back into US hands after being stolen. Your husband had introduced you to the Station Chief over a drink with a hand on the small of your back.

But it didn’t stop you now from talking to her like you’d known her for years. Not when fear was flooding your veins.

“What the hell is going on?” You say harshly, glancing around the room for any sight of someone else here. 

Kate sighs heavily but wastes no time in speaking, her professional tone and serious face leaving your already fast-paced heart racing.

“Alex isn’t coming back to the United States.” Your eyes blank, staring into icy blue. She holds out her manila folder, jaw tight. Blunt. “He’s a deserter.” 

It’s like your entire being halts; your skin suit feels as if it’s sagging on your bones with the weight of a cinder block connected by hooks to the floor. 

What did she just say?

Opening and closing your mouth you stutter, lids blinking rapidly. 

“I…” Fingers flinching in the air, an exhalation from your nose sounds more like a wheeze. Kate watches stiffly, taking a look at the floor before returning her attention to you; emotion flashes in her eyes. “...W-what?”

“Keller deserted his post—I tried to speak with the Colonel but there’s only so much I can do.” Laswell takes a deep breath as you continue to go through shock. Alex wasn’t coming home? How, why? “He’s staying in Urzikstan to fight with the Liberation Force.”

“Urzikstan?!” You gape, but the woman continues. 

“For all intents and purposes, I shouldn’t be here, but Alex asked me personally to hand these to you.” Again the manilla folder is shown to you, but when you only glare and fight the fear and confusion rampaging in your gut a sigh echoes out and it’s placed on a termite-eaten side table. “Even communicating with you could put you in danger now that he’s gotten on the bad side of the entire SAD and CIA branches. This is all I can do.”

“What the fuck,” you whisper to yourself, hand coming up to capture your mouth. 

“If Alex re-enters the states—he’ll be arrested and tried in a court of law. If he’s not shot on sight for what he knows.” Kate watches you closely, shaking her head in pity. “I’m sorry,” there’s a strained pause, “but he’s made his decision.” 

As she brushes past you, leaving the folder on the side table, you feel your wide eyes well with tears—confused and horrified. But he’s coming back to me, right? Alex…Alex wouldn’t leave me here alone.

It was common knowledge that over the last years the blond had gotten more agitated at his line of work; the orders that he didn’t want to follow but had no choice. No voice. But he can’t just abandon you...could he? You’d taken vows. Had a happy marriage and relationship. Loved each other.

He can’t just…he can’t…

Your hands shake and you’re unable to stop them, gaze locked on that unassuming manilla folder. Kate pauses in the doorway, peeking back and seeing your sickly-looking face, the agony written in the lines of your forehead. Like the picture of a loyal wife being told her husband was never coming home. And Alex wasn’t even dead. Resentment begins to burn. 

But he made his bed. 

“He told me to tell you that he wouldn’t be angry if you wanted to leave him,” was all she said, a final knife being stabbed into your heart and being ripped out like a live wire. Electricity makes your back go stiff in an instant. “It would be best to never tell anyone that we met.” 

You were alone, full body shivers and bile stuck in the back of your throat. Cold sweat coats your palms, a sticky mess of your barebones disturbance. 

“He…” your voice is hoarse, bouncing off the far walls. “Alex left me here? He left me.”

It was easier to say that the sun had exploded and you were waiting for the last beam of light to incinerate you. Inside of your skull your brain pounds as, in a mad dash of desperation, you rush to the manilla folder and rip it open with vibrating arms.

Having Laswell tell you that Alex wouldn’t be mad if you…if you…the hairs on the back of your neck rise and suddenly you’re angry beyond a sliver of a doubt. It was insulting.

“Alex fucking Keller,” the paper opens to the bulk of your husband's dog tags and a flip phone—reports like his own personal file and the patch that he had once worn so proudly on his combat vest. Red, white, and blue dig into your retinas; it was old, worn beyond measure, but that little patch was something that was never removed. Not even to be cleaned. 

“The dirtier it is,” Alex had commented on the American flag patch when you’d offered to mend it for him, cringing at all the blood stains and dirt flecking off it as he slipped his vest off in the foyer of your home. “The luckier I am.” 

“I think the stench of it alone will frighten off anyone who comes near,” you had raised a brow, smirking up at him as he walked over, laughing. A kiss is placed on your lips, Alex’s bright smile transferring over to you as if able to spread from his mouth to yours that simply. You sigh dreamily. 

He pulls back with a tiny wink as you gaze up at him, cheekily stating, “That’s the plan, Sweet Thing. Gotta make sure I come home to you in one piece.”

You brush your hands over it and think that maybe it would have been better if he had died. Then you could understand why he’s doing this to you. Anger spreads into rage. 

Looking next at the phone and dog tags, all you do is shake your head and slam the folder shut, bitter tears tracking your face. You can’t read anything—can’t see his name imprinted on that metal that used to press coldly into your skin as you both slept in bed. You don’t care about the phone or the files. 

None of it mattered.

“He fucking left me here,” it’s like you’re a broken record replaying over and over again. “You absolute bastard, Keller!” Yelling, you press your fingers into your face, hands spreading over your eyes and mouth to muffle your enraged sobs. 

“You’re still alive and you left me alone.” 

Only the abandoned building echoes your pain; replaying it back over and over again as your wails echo around the lobby like a symphony of laughing jesters. 

—

The phone that Laswell had given you had been going off at least three times every day—morning, noon, and at night. You had stared at it with fury, knowing exactly who was calling even if the thing was displaying an unknown number. By now you had steeped in your anger enough that you had found yourself snapping at friends and family alike when asked if you were alright. 

You wished Alex was here so you could hit him upside the head for being so stupid. So you could hate him until you had the pleasure to love him again.

Urzikstan. 

You’d looked up the country after you had spent two days straight in bed, afterward manically cleaning the house with a glare that could light fires. The far-off place was a land utterly divided by war. Russian occupation, a terrorist group; the force that your husband had joined. Mass against mass against mass.

Brick meets wall.

And Alex had chosen to stay—without a doubt because he’d seen the dire situation and had used that damnable good heart of his to empathize to the max. Forget donations, humanitarian work, or anything else, the man had fucking decided to join in a Liberation Force. 

As much as you wanted to say you hated him; had wanted to slam your gold wedding band to the table with a good riddance for betraying you like that…you still had his dog tags around your neck, and the ring was still on your finger. 

“Too good for his own sake,” you grumble, shoving dirty clothes into the washer like they had tried to attack you. “Deserted the fucking CIA, Jesus Alex. Do you even think when I’m not around?” 

There were only so many times you could curse his name until you felt a deceiving needle of pride slither itself into your skull. You could describe Alex as many things but he would always be steadfast in causes that truly needed his help. He often told you that the best missions were the ones where he could do so much more than take out a target—he strived to help the individuals he met. Form bonds. 

God forbid something came in between the blond and the ones he’d chosen to give his loyalty to.

You slam the washer shut and stomp into the living room after starting another cycle. Stress cleaning was really not a good look on you—the entire house was without a single spec of dust but you yourself felt like you’d run seven marathons. Clenching your teeth, you go and drop to the couch, a grunt falling from your lips as your head hits the pillow.

Staring at the ceiling, you finally take in the utter silence of the house—not a home, because it could only be that if Alex was here—with a pained crease forming on your brow. The pipes spit water, and the washer grunted its mechanical garble…but there was no humming man making food in the kitchen. No blond hair visible as a head rests on your chest; your fingers playing in the locks that act like silk as you part them, the man on top of you purring. Body a weighted blanket.

“Was it really that easy,” you whisper to nothing, lip quivering. “Was it really that easy to stay away, Alex? I thought…I…” 

Eyes wrenching shut, you hear the phone right at noon again as it sits on the coffee table. And you let it. 

There were voicemails, no doubt, but you hadn’t thought to listen to those either. This small act of rebellion was all you could act on but for the simple fact that it also harmed you. Barbed wire steadily digging deeper as it kept your hands wound to your sides—neck plastered to the pillow as bright silver spikes glinted. You stare at the unknown caller who really wasn’t all that unknown and watch the screen light, vibrating over the wood in steady intervals. 

What hurt the most was that if he’d asked you to come along—become an Expat just for him—you would have said yes. You could find a new job, a new place to call home. Humanitarian work would have been at the top of your list and Alex…well….he would still be fighting, just as he always had. 

But at the very least you would have been there to clean his wounds. Together. You’d both promised on that altar to do nothing less. He could’ve asked. He should have asked. 

Alex…

“Urzikstan,” you mutter for what seems like the fiftieth time. When the ringing stops a few moments later the new voicemail icon flashes. Placing your arm over your mouth, you clench your hand so tight it starts to shake, whispering into your skin, “Fine. I guess you did make your bed. And…and I won't be there to lie in it with you.” No matter how much I want to.

You slip the wedding band off of your finger and place it beside the phone before turning and burying your head into the cushions; feeling more numb than you ever had before.

—

It carried on like this for three months. The ring didn’t move from the coffee table and neither did the flip phone; the file had all but been tossed in the trash as it sat teetering on the living room desk. You carried on as well as you could, all things considered. 

Work was a blur, going out with friends even harder to enjoy, and any enjoyment of hobbies or activities was dulled to an almost gray existence. Like a ghost, you wafted through experiences with dog tags and a withering appearance. Eventually, you just stopped going out unless it couldn’t be helped. You still bought meals for two at the grocery store out of habit. You placed blankets where Alex used to sleep beside you. You went to work. 

And still, the calls never stopped except for a brief pause after the first month. You’d thought he’d finally given up, but no. Back at it.

It had gotten to a point now where the device was automatically deleting all recent voicemails—too little space in the inbox. 

Angry curiosity was tempting you. It would be easy, you reason, to simply play the first message and listen. The worst part of it was that you’d begun to forget Alex’s voice and perhaps that was why, on that dead-aired Saturday, you snatched the phone and brought it into the kitchen. 

Firmly planting it on the counter, you stand behind one of the island chairs and glare, hands tapping into the wood. 

“I’m giving you three minutes, Alex,” you speak as if he’s still here, as if his form stands right behind you, head tilted like a damn dog with that infectious smile and those sea-glass eyes. “Three minutes,” your fingers snap the device open and you go to your voicemails; jaw tight, “and if you don’t hear you groveling, Keller, I’m deleting all of them and chucking this phone into the sink.” 

You go down the line to the very first message, small buttons clicking, and before you can stop yourself you press play.

It begins with a small moment of silence. A cough. 

“Hey,” he says your first name, not one of your epithets. Your brows deepen their annoyed furrow, but you can’t help the uptick in your heart rate. Inside your flesh, the sinews of your throat close in on itself like a balloon. “I…I’m guessin’ I have a good enough ass-kicking waiting for me since you didn’t answer.” A strained laugh before another pause. You feel acidic tears boil behind your lids. “I’m not surprised—not really. Done some stupid things but never something like this.” You can hear him shake his head, voice going lower in defiance. “But they were asking me to leave Urzikstan in a worse place than when I entered it. This Liberation Force, Bug, it…they’re good people and what they’re asking me to do…” Alex huffs, growling under his throat. “I can’t stand by that. The man you chose to marry, he can’t stand by that. They need me here. I’m not asking you to not be angry—to not hate me for this. I know I damn well deserve it.”

You let your tears hit the counter, head slightly bowing over. That was your Alex. 

“You need a leash,” your strained voice hits the walls, bouncing off picture frames and your husband's cooking utensils. The small pieces that make up the whole picture frame of your life. “God,” you huff wetly, “you’re going to get yourself killed.”

“I know I should have talked to you first, figured out some plan. But, uh,” Alex’s throat gets choked up, and you snap a hand to your mouth when you realize he’s close to tears. He clears his throat. “Hell, I should have done a lot of things, Sweetheart.” 

You can hear shouts in the background, calls in Arabic. The pounding of a door and a woman’s voice.

“Alex, we need to move! Everyone is ready—Barkov’s lab cannot be left standing a moment longer.” The hurried hand to the line muffles the words, but you hear him anyway.

“Affirmative!” He comes back. “I don’t have time to explain more, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for… everything. I’d understand if you don’t use the passport Laswell’ll give you, but that doesn’t mean I’m just going to stop calling.” Alex laughs and your face freezes.

“Passport?”

“What kind of Husband would I be if I just let the most perfect woman in the world go without a fight, huh? I’ll be waiting until you call to tell me to shut the hell up and leave you alone or that you’re down in the airport waiting.” There’s a large sound of combat vests being clicked on—pistols being situated into holsters and a rifle strap slipped over a chest. Alex suddenly pauses and you stare at the phone blankly. “I know this is a big ask, Doll, and I know I’m horrible for even springin’ this on you when I’m half a world away from our bed. But I had to try, even if it was selfish. I just…I just really need to hear your voice telling me if I’m an idiot or not for thinking this up. Call me back soon…or when you run out of my clothes to burn in the firepit out back…I love you, okay? More…more than anything.” 

There’s a minute or two of nothing, just Alex’s ragged breathing, and then there’s an older man’s voice ordering him to hurry up. The line clicks. 

Your ears ring as it does, wide eyes dripping tears from your bottom lashes as your lungs chill over. Hand slowly flinching out, you ghost over the keys before clicking on the following voicemail. As it plays, your feet start to take you backward at a snail's pace, your spine flattering against the wall as blood drains to your feet. 

“Hey, it’s me again. I still haven’t heard from you—that’s alright. Take your time.” Steadying yourself with a hand, you look out of the kitchen and get a glimpse of the manila folder on the desk, its tan hide sucking you in. Pulse in your throat, you rush out to grab it as Alex’s voice echoes. “I know Laswell gave you the file, I trust her that much at least.” A sigh. “But even if it’s just to yell at me, please pick up the phone soon. Let me save some of my dignity and give me a chance to beg on an open line, huh, Sweetheart…? But I guess that’s all—gotta go. I love you.” 

You don’t play the next message because you’re ripping open the file with rabid hands, seeing exactly as you had when Laswell left it for you. Alex’s mission report; his patch. The dog tags around your neck clink together like a song, some brutal rhythm. 

“Passport?” Grasping the mission report you pick it up, flipping through the multiple pages of blacked-out words and more confused than ever. “Airport?” 

The words come out as whimpers, hands so shaky that the pages slip from your fingers. They slam to the floor in a flurry of bond paper and you curse loudly, snatching for the remnants futilely. Grasping on your hands and knees hitches build in your breath as your fingers dance rapidly before they slip across something distinctly not paper. 

Small, tiny, and blue. Laminate. 

Your very blood seems to stop in your veins. Pushing back one last piece of paper, you come face to face with a singular American passport. Gasping down mute breaths and licking your lips, you pick it up lightly, leaning back on your legs as if you’d just slammed your head into the concrete. 

“Alex…” you whisper to no one. 

Flipping the hard cover open, a small, palm-sized piece of paper slips out to your lap as your own face stares at you in image form. You blink for a moment before going to take the note and separate the ends. Formal script is inside, stiff lettering. Not your husband's handwriting, but you didn’t have to guess who’d written out these directions for you. 

Laswell.

There was a destination in fountain pen ink—an airport near the Urzikstanian and Georgian border. Seeing as Urzikstan was on the travel-ban list due to the turbulence of the government and terrorist threats, you wouldn’t be able to get there directly. 

But you supposed Kate had your back for that too. 

Georgian safehouse - wait for Keller there. It’s secure. More directions and then a small gap. A pause. Good luck.

You don’t know how long you stare at that paper—that passport. The first thing you think about is how could Alex ask you to do this. Uproot yourself with the snap of a finger. You wouldn’t be able to bring anything beyond what could fit in a few suitcases. No furniture, no large amount of clothes, or even sentimental items. You’d have to quit your job; leave behind family and friends to travel to a war-torn country.

But he’d said it was your choice, and he wouldn’t push you to make it. He’d said you could leave him if you wanted—keep all of this that you’d built here.

…But you’d built it together, hadn’t you? 

You think of Alex’s bright smile and his mustache. His tattoos. How he’d hold you so tight in the long hours of sleep that you half-believed he thought you’d disappear if he didn’t; nuzzling his nose into the back of your head and grumbling out nonsense. The way you could trace his scars and watch as he willingly submitted to your praise, delicate lips curving into sheepish grins as you place soft kisses on the raised skin. Red cheeks.

This place wasn’t a home without Alex in it.

You look over at the coffee table and lock onto the gold of your wedding band.

—

Getting into Georgia was a long affair of paperwork and screenings—not days but months of legal jargon that Alex had dodged entirely because of his desertion. By the time you’d landed in country, you were wholly exhausted down to the very marrow of your bones. You get through the checkpoints, pick up your bags, and look out at the entirely new world outside of the airport’s windows. 

“Okay,” you swallow saliva and nod carefully before looking down at Laswell’s directions to the safehouse. 

You slip the paper into your pocket after memorizing the address, tips of your fingers brushing the smooth surface of the flip phone. Clenching your eyes shut, you take your hand back out and go to try and hire a driver. You were here, but that doesn’t mean all of this was forgiven. 

After you find someone able to drive you to where you need to go, you end up standing with a quaint hostel ahead of you, home far behind. Gazing slightly nervous at the strange place you’ve found yourself, you think of Alex’s hand on the small of your back and sigh; caressing the cool metal of the ring around your finger. 

Walking forward, you hitch your bags over your shoulders and grit your teeth against the hot sun. When you meet the owner at the front desk you state your name and ask for a bed. 

The man’s eyes widen for a moment before he looks at something on his countertop, raising a brow in thought. Grabbing at a stack of papers he holds up a finger and begins digging. Too tired and overwhelmed to ask what was wrong, you just watch and rub at your face. 

“Ah,” the man snaps his fingers and laughs to himself, “here it is! I knew I had placed the note somewhere, Mrs. Keller.” You blink, confused, but the man just takes a key from the wall and motions for you to follow. Sparing a glance around for a moment, you slowly slink after, not really having a choice.

“I remember your Husband coming to me—the blond with the tattoos.” The owner looks back, making sure you’re following. He motions to his right side with splayed fingers. “Scars on the side of his head, to reserve a room.”  

Alex was here? How much had he done already pertaining to the chance that you would show up? 

“Y-yeah,” you chuckle stiffly, “that was him. Sorry for being so long I was…preoccupied.”

“You’re lucky he kept up on payments,” the man grumbles, opening a door with the key and motioning you inside. “My pleasure to finally have you, regardless.”

Entering the small and sparse room, you take the key from him with a thankful smile and a quick thank you before he closes the door. As the barrier thuds, you sway on your feet. Blinking. Breathing hard. You drop all of your bags with a heavy thump that echoes off the walls in a single instant. Heart pounding at everything that was striking you in an instant, you walk slowly back to the bed. You don’t bother to take a shower or brush your teeth; even change. 

You fall down on the mattress and pray you don’t have to dream about Alex sending money to this place every week simply on a suffocating hope that you’d come back to him. You pray you don’t dream at all. 

The phone wakes you up only thirty minutes later.

Groaning, you shift your body so your hand can snake into your pocket, grasping it and tossing it to the pillow beside your head. You’d never made it through all of the voicemails without crying, so you just deleted all of them and let the inbox fill back up again. 

Feeling the dog tags press against your chest as you form your chest into the bed, you shove your head downward and listen to it ring. 

Bring-bring, bring-bring, bring-bring

It happens in a flurry of a sleep-addled mind and a horrible desperation to see your husband after nearly a full year of no contact. You flip it open and answer with your nose pressed deeply into the pillow below you. Ears straining and pulse running like a starving cat after a mouse. 

Dead silence. 

“...Sweetheart…?” It’s pitiful how fast the tears flood you at Alex’s shocked and tiny voice. Tight breathing sounds over the line from his end and your other hand digs into your scalp. A small, cut-off laugh. “Hey…I—” 

You hang up with a vicious slam of the screen and let the silence settle again. People walk the hall; the sun dims as night sets in. This isn’t home. Dropping the phone back down to the pillow you curl into a tight ball and cry yourself back to sleep.

If you had to guess, you’d say the small curse was what woke you for the second time, though you didn’t register it until minutes later. That muffled ‘shit’ as a foot hits your dropped bags near the door. But then it’s silent again and your ears only twitch to the gentle sigh that brushes against your face; a thumb and forefinger caressing your cheek as hair is placed back over your ear. 

Perhaps the only reason at all as to why you don’t wake up screaming bloody murder is because of his calluses. They burn your flesh as they slide over it—as ingrained into your very being as your own heart is. As if Alex’s touch was another organ that was needed to survive. More important than a liver or a spleen. 

When your eyes slip open he’s leaning back in a chair he had turned to face you, built form shifting as the rickety wood creaks. No more than five feet away sits your husband, and all you do is suck in a tight breath and lock gazes with soft sea glass. 

Alex freezes at the same time, strong brow line peeling back and mustache stiff as his lips immediately thin. You both stare for a good while, a thread of tension entering the air. The night deepens. 

He speaks first, in the dense hours of confrontation. Your heart feels like it’s been stuck with a spear, vignette at the sides of your vision, and a blooming center of only Alex’s body and his messy hair. The scarf around his neck. The combat vest. 

Had he driven all this way to see if you were here? Because you’d answered the phone? But you hadn’t even said anything. Your head stays on the pillow, wondering if you were hallucinating.

“Hey,” Alex forces a chuff before he glances away, nervous arms crossed. “Hey there, Doll. Sorry that I woke you. I…ah,” your eyes bore into him, hand on the sheets slowly clenching into a fist. “I figured there was an off chance you would be here.” He clears his voice, throat closing on a trying laugh. “Guess I’m glad I looked. You should remember to lock your door, by the way.” 

At the sight of your rising glare, his tone drops, expression falling even more than it already was. Deep well of sadness grew in his eyes, lips pulling back in a strained agony. 

Alex’s gaze drops to the floor. 

“I know,” is what hits the air, “I know, Sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t fucking cut it,” you push your body up as his large shoulders tighten—such an accomplished and strong man brought to a squirming heap when his wife’s sharp words hit him in the chest. “What the hell were you thinking, Alex?!”

Heavy feet hit the floor as you stalk over, fatigue and tiredness pushed all the way to the back of your mind yet also enhancing your emotions. Bitter rage was sparking—held in far too long. Alex’s eyes don’t meet yours, so you grab him by the chin and angle his head up to you. 

At the sight of your red sclera and the baggy gaze he stills. Under your grip his beard tickles you, the soft grip of flesh that makes you want to wrap your arms over him and weep; make him promise to never leave like that again. 

“I…I wasn’t…”

“That’s the thing isn’t it—you didn’t think.” Sea glass floods over, going glossy; hurt etched into both of your faces as if carved from the same stone. But you don’t stop now, growling out as your skin burns. Alex isn’t sad that you’re angry, he’s sad he’s done this to you. “You disappeared, Alex. Laswell had to just drop all of this shit on me. I thought you had died.” You growl. “Do you know what that feels like?!” 

“Sweetheart—”

“Shut up! You let me talk,” he falls silent, hand delicately coming up to grab your wrist. Not to pull you away, just to hold you. To feel your skin and the heat of it. You sniffle and his eyes break. “And the worst part of it was that if you had just asked I would have followed you right then and there.” Alex sharply looks back at you. “But the biggest insult was that you thought I would leave you—that you even considered that.” 

Shock slowly gives way to a blank expression. He was confused, now.

Was that what you were angry about?

“You’re an idiot, Keller. Hot-headed. Cocky.” You shake your head, but a tiny smile begins to bleed onto Alex’s face. Watching you like you’d just sprung a million dollars on him. His grip slightly squeezes, calloused thumb running the span of your knuckles as you shake his head with your hand. “Damn nuisance to my health, is what you are.” Trying to remain angry is tough when he’s looking at you like that—starstruck—but you spit out, “It’s insulting that you thought I’d just give up on us that easily.”

“Most women don’t want a man who’s wanted for desertion, Doll,” Alex whispers, testing a smirk on his lips with his expression still strained. 

“Arrogant!” your voice snaps. “Not a single brain cell in his stupid little head.” You let go of his chin and grip the sides of his skull, feeling the dirty but still soft strands of hair before you huff at him. 

But he just looks at you and smiles, face smooshed. 

“...You really came?” Alex asks quietly. You fall silent and after a moment you deflate.

After the silence of trying to keep the sneer on your face, you let it drop, lips quivering slightly. Anger glints with pain. “I should hit you upside the head, Keller, for all the worry you’ve put me through,” you grunt, eyes flashing over every new bruise on his face—every cut you’d have to re-learn. He looks tired. 

Oh, Alex…

Before the blond can respond to you, you’ve captured the back of his head and shoved it into your chest; face burying itself into his scalp to bring forth that scent of dust and cologne. You whimper out as he grips you around the waist with just as much fervor, “Did you think that I would stay away?”

Alex says nothing, only the slight tremor in his bicep betraying him. You firmly kiss his skull and run your fingers through his hair, the both of you so tight together there’s barely enough room in your ribs to allow your lungs to inflate. 

But holding him was more important than air, a sentiment that Alex seemed to share entirely. 

“I’m so glad you’re here, Bug.” He mutters into your skin. “Feels good to be able to hold my girl again.”

You stay like that for a long time before you pull back and capture his cheeks, face pulling closer before you kiss him deeply. It’s not a fast-paced or desperate thing—no clashing teeth or tongue. That wasn’t what you needed right now. 

All that you needed was Alex. Your home. 

You both separate and the blond grabs the back of your neck, forcing you back so he can lay another on the side of your mouth; nose, cheek. Anywhere that he could reach as his mustache tickled you to a smile. Giggles worm out and you wiggle out of his grip to wipe at your cheeks, spreading away tiny tear tracks and saliva.

“Quit it,” you whisper, and Alex gazes up at you reverently from his chair.

“Negative, Ma’am,” he says, equally as soft, not even blinking. “Don’t wanna.” You roll your eyes, face hot. 

The seconds draw long of only watching one another before you shake your head and move your hands to shimmy out of the dog tags around your neck. Alex’s gaze locks on the metal swiftly, smile shifting.

“You’re horrible.” You huff, quietly, before shoving his dog tags at his chest. “Now put them back on.”

“But I’m not in the—” Your glare shuts him up. Alex clears his throat sheepishly. “Yes, Ma’am.” 

You nod and watch as they’re resituated around his neck. Right where they should be. When you take a step back to really take him in, there’s a moment where you skim over the state of his left leg. After all, the metal was barely noticeable in the dark. But when you do see it every little part of you shrivels up with confused pain.

Alex stands with a noticeable preference to his right and as he towers over you, fingers coming to grab at your face and slowly drag it back up.

A slightly apologetic look washes over him.

“I’m guessing you didn’t listen to all of the voicemails.” 

“Alex…” you slowly cut off. “You…” Staring at the metal limb instead of the real one, you gape. “...how?”

“Y’know,” he laughs, but you don’t find this funny. He notices and kisses your forehead, tapping his scalp to yours and saying after a contemplative pause, “I think it’s better if I don’t explain it. I’m alright, just...” Alex smiles cheekily, the spark that you love coming back easily as it shimmers in his eyes, “just a little more carbon fiber and aluminum than I was before.” 

You hug him tightly.

“I’m sorry, I should have come sooner—I was just angry, and I wasn’t—”

“Don’t apologize to me,” Alex sighs, grabbing you and maneuvering the both of you to the bed. He sits and you end up laying in his lap like that moment in the bathroom ages ago. “None of this is your fault, okay? You deserve to be angry. I shouldn’t have put such a burden on you.” 

You sigh in his arms, head under his chin and heart finally able to return to a steady pace. Licking your lips, you ask, “Does it hurt?” 

Sending a glance down, Alex’s lips twitch with a grin before it disappears. He hums.

“Sometimes.” Your hand grips his opposite cheek and you lay a kiss on his chin, caressing his flesh.

It’s a tentative kind of love. An understanding and a plea all at once. 

The blond leans back against the wall and pulls you closer, closing his eyes. Finally relaxing for the first time in what seems like forever. But his girl is in his arms, and he’s never been this calm.

“I have a home in Urzikstan,” he confesses lightly, fingers brushing your body and giving way to shivers. You listen, eyes fluttering at the vibrations of his words. “It’s safe—protected. I…want us to live there.” Alex nods against your head, swallowing. “If you’ll come back with me.”

“Yes,” your answer is immediate. “Anywhere, as long as you’re with me.” 

You feel his breath hitch, soft chuckles brushing your hair far better than any comb. There’s a small tremor in his voice as he says, “I love you. God, do I love you.” 

Your lips pull up, body growing heavy with a final sense of home.

“I love you, too.” Soft kisses and tight arms. Shifting tattoos. “But if you ever do something like that again without talking to me, I’m telling Laswell she has permission to put a bullet in your ass.”

His loud laughs shake your body, and you press your face into his neck to steady yourself; smiling.

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[hyunniesgirl]

More than words

Pairing: Lee Know x fem!reader

Summary: your best friends are getting married and you're their maid of honor. They just forgot to mention that the best man and your partner in the wedding is the guy who broke you heart.

Word count: 6,394

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, drunk people, just fluffy and a tiny bit if angst, also there's a screenshot/fake text close to the end.

>> Masterlist <<

A/N: so, this was supposed to be a bday post for Lee Know but I couldn't finish it on time :( turns out I can't write under pressure and I still don't think this is good enough but I don't think I can do better this time lmao I'm sure he can feel my love even if it's a bit late(I wish) so happy late bday for my bias the most sassy and sexy man on earth!!!!

You look at the invitation in your hands and sigh. You were really looking forward to your best friend's wedding. You were overjoyed when she told you Jeonghan had finally proposed and that she had chosen you as her maid of honor. You were excited to go out shopping to choose her wedding dress and enjoyed helping plan all the little details.

The thing is, Seojin forgot to let you know that the best man is going to be her best friend, your long-term crush and the guy who rejected you. Lee Minho, your wildest dream and worst nightmare embodied.

You, Seojin, Jeonghan and Minho had met in college and you fell in love at first sight. Yeah, kinda cheesy, right? You always had been a logical person so love at first sight sounded like bullshit to you, until it actually happened.

It was the strongest, most nerve wracking emotion you ever felt in your life. The way every move he made, every word he said, every smile he gave you, just made your entire world turn upside down.

You never really put a lot of effort into hiding that you liked him, seizing every opportunity to hit on him but he never really gave you the time of day, brushing it off as a joke.

A year ago, you decided to confess to him. You told him about your feelings for but it was no surprise when he turned you down.

You already guessed he didn't feel the same way as you did, you just thought it best to regret what you have done rather than what you haven't. And you did regret doing it in the end. Your heart was broken and you felt empty, you haven't spoken to him since that day. So to know you'll have to spend a whole weekend in his presence is not something you're looking forward to.

>>>

You came to the airport right after you clocked out of work. It's not a long trip, so you try to make yourself comfortable while you're in the plane.

As the maid of honor, you have to help the guests during the weekend, this is your job so Seojin can relax before her wedding.

So when you feel someone sitting by your side, you put your best smile on, ready to introduce yourself.

Your smile disappears when you see Minho there, he has his usual smug smile on his lips and an eyebrow raised, staring at you and waiting for you to continue.

"Oh, it's you", you say, feeling your cheeks warm, turning around to look out of the window.

"I expected a more heartwarming greeting", he jokes, "we are partners for the weekend after all"

'Don't even get me started on that', you think, sighing.

You should be nice to him, at least while you're on wedding duties, he didn't do anything wrong after all. But you're embarrassed, the last time you talked to each other was when he rejected you.

"How have you been?" He asks when you don't say anything.

"Fine", you give him a forced smile, "and you?"

"As usual", he answers, shifting in his seat, uncomfortable.

"Dating someone?" You ask and his head snaps at you, he didn't think you'd want to know something like that. You sure are having the same reaction, cursing yourself with every name you know, you really can't help yourself, you're an idiot.

"Not really", he clears his throat, he thought you'd have forgotten all about him after so much time but he feels strange knowing you still want to know about that, "you?"

You shake your head, no. You're not dating anyone since you didn't get over him yet. It's pathetic really, a whole year went by and you're still hung up on him.

You don't talk much for the rest of the trip, you just make small talk about his plans with Jeonghan for the weekend. Minho missed you, more than he could have expected, so it's nice having time with you again.

You have always known Jeonghan is rich, but to book a room for every one of their guests at a five star hotel it's a whole other level of wealthy. You're already dreaming about the long bath you're going to take on the hydromassage in your room, after that you're going to lay in the comfortable hotel bed and relax for the rest of the night, maybe check again your plans for tomorrow.

"Mr. Lee", the receptionist says to Minho, giving him the keycard. She looks at you, waiting for you to get closer to the counter, "What can I do for you, Miss…?"

"Oh, it's Y/N L/N", you say, stepping closer. The woman taps something and frowns.

"You're in room 143", she says and you smile politely, waiting for your keycard, "together with Mr. Lee", she points to Minho, who's looking at his keycard and showing it to you.

You take a deep breath.

"There must be a mistake, we are not together, we have to be in different rooms"

"I'm sorry, there must have been a mistake in the booking", she smiles apologetically, "we can give you a full refund"

"There's no need, I can just stay in another room"

The woman presses her lips in a thin line, looking at the other receptionist by her side.

"I'm sorry, but we are fully booked"

You take a moment to understand what she's saying. So there's no room for you? That's great.

"I'll just go to another hotel", you sigh, stepping away.

"I'm afraid it will be hard for you to find another hotel miss, it's the weekend and there are a lot of weddings happening at this time of the year"

"What am I supposed to do, then?", you ask, trying not to freak out.

You can't stay with Seojin since she's the bride and the other bridesmaids magically found a partner to bring to the ceremony so there's nowhere for you to sleep.

"Just stay with me", Minho sighs, running his hands through his hair. "It's your room too anyway"

You stare at him for a whole minute, trying to think of a way to get out of this, but you can't. You have to stay close to Seojin for the wedding plans and you really want to stay in this hotel.

"Do you have a better idea?" He asks, seeing the frown in your face.

You sigh, shaking your head, there's nothing much you can do. You follow Minho to the elevator, pressing the bottom and waiting for the doors to open. A crowd starts to form around you, pushing you together into the confined space. Minho is crushed against the wall and you're being pressed against him, as if things aren't already bad.

"We should have waited to catch the next one", you whisper and he sighs.

"Is not like we had a choice"

You want to fight him, you want to blame him for all this situation. If he didn't reject you, you would be together now and you wouldn't mind being pressed against him. You wouldn't mind the warmth growing in your lower stomach just by the touch of his skin on yours.

The moment people get out on the second floor, you step away from him, trying to hide your red face. You walk together in the corridor, your mind is so full you forget the situation you are in, but when you enter the room you see the bed. There's only one bed. You completely forgot this is a room for a couple, as if it's not enough that you have to sleep in the same room with Minho, you'll have to share the same bed too? If there's a god, he must be laughing at your face right now.

"Do you want to shower first?" Minho's voice takes you out of your thoughts and you turn around to look at him.

"Yeah, thanks"

You grab your bag and go into the bathroom. It's okay, you don't have to freak out, you are in a five star hotel, in a really nice suite, you can manage to survive the weekend.

When you packed your things, you were planning on sleeping alone so you are lucky you actually brought pajamas even though you always sleep in your underwear. This pajama is not the most decent one but it's what you have at the moment.

The hot bath does wonders to relieve your stress, you use the expensive shampoo and hair conditioner and massages your body with some nice body lotion, ready to have a good night of sleep.

Minho's seated by the bed when you get out of the bathroom, his clothes are folded by his side and he's scrolling on his phone. He lifts his eyes towards you, freezing instantly. What the hell are you wearing? He feels the warmth going up his neck, cheeks and his ears.

"A-are you done?" He stutters for the first time since you've known him.

"Yeah, the hair conditioner is really nice, look how soft my hair is now", you step closer to him, tilting your head so he can touch your hair.

"I'll try it myself", he walks past you. You must have taken a lot of time in there for him to be in such a hurry.

When Minho gets out of the bathroom you're already sleeping, you're laying down on your stomach with your round ass bursting out of your shorts or whatever is that thing you're wearing, he's sure he'll go crazy in the next two days if you keep this up.

>>>

When you go into the restaurant and see Seojin, you want to commit a murder. You know that face she's making, it's the face she has when she did something mischievous and is trying to hide it.

"So it was YOU", you slap her arm, sitting in front of her at the table. The other girls didn't seem to have arrived yet.

"I don't know what you're talking about", she smiles looking at you with doe eyes.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, really, you put us in the same room?"

She sighs in defeat. Seojin knows better than to keep pretending, you know her too well to believe in any excuse she'll come up with.

"I just want my two best friends to make up", she smiles, "it's my wedding after all"

"I get that, but you could have thought about a better way", you sigh, calling for the waiter and asking for a bottle of wine. "I won't ruin your weekend", you smile, grabbing her hand to squeeze it, "but you're done for when we go back"

She shivers, you're really scary when you get mad. But it's worth the risk, she knows you're not over Minho and she wants to help you get together.

"Leave the whole bottle", you ask the waiter that just came back to your table bringing the wine and two glasses, "and keep bringing more when you see I'm out of it", you ignore his look of pity.

You're going to have lunch with Seojin and the bridesmaids, then you're going to pick your dress up and bring it to the hotel for you to wear tomorrow.

Soon enough the bridesmaids arrive, there are only three, Seojin's cousins and Jeonghan's sister. They won't shut up about their partners, that aren't even official or anything. You can't believe they brought just about anyone to your best friend's wedding and you absolutely are not being petty because you were forced to stay in the same room as Minho because they all had partners.

After setting the date for your meeting later in the night, you go to pick up your dress. You had to make some last minute changes and were lucky they were available to assist you immediately.

The first thing you do when you get to your room is to try on the dress, making sure it's perfect for the next day. You struggle a bit to put it on, since it has a zipper in the back, but you manage it.

You stare at your reflection in the mirror, you look nice. The green really enhances the color of your eyes and it's going to look perfect with your makeup and hair done.

You feel a sudden tug in your hair, a few strands got stuck in the zipper somehow. Perfect. You pull it a couple of times but with no success until you pull it so hard the zipper actually breaks.

"Oh no no", you whine looking at the big problem you have in your hands.

The door opens behind you and Minho enters, staring at you for a moment, you look beautiful. He would have admired you for a whole hour if it wasn't for the desperate look in your face, that's when he sees that your dress is open in the back with some of your hair stuck in the zipper.

"Are you alright?" He asks, you look at him trying to calm yourself down. What are you going to do? The wedding is tomorrow.

"I messed up", you tell him, tears brimming in your eyes, "I ruined my dress, how am I supposed to go to the ceremony?"

There's no way you can get it fixed, there's a lot of weddings happening this weekend and it's Saturday afternoon, there's not going to be a tailor available.

Minho can see the gears turning in your head, you're overthinking. He gets closer to you, grabbing you by the shoulders, making you look at him.

"Hey!" He says, loudly enough to catch your attention, "calm down! We can find a way to fix it!"

He's looking deeply into your eyes, telling you to take deep breaths and you do just that, calming down a bit in a few minutes.

>>>

Minho had his fair share of broken hearts, sometimes he was the one crying over the end of a relationship and sometimes someone else was in that position. He liked you more than as a friend, he knew that since the beginning of your friendship but he never opened up enough to form another type of relationship with you. So when you confessed to him, he felt so many things at the same time.

He was happy that you felt the same way as him, mad he didn't know about it sooner but mostly, he felt scared, your friendship was so important to him that he didn't want to ruin it by dating you. What if you two broke up later? How could you still be friends?

That fear made him turn you down, he regretted it the moment you walked out of the cafe you were meeting up and in a certain way, he did ruin your friendship, since you didn't speak to him after that day and he couldn't bring himself to contact you too.

He knew Seojin was the one who pulled this stunt of putting you together in the same room, she always loved to play cupid. He just didn't expect he would like the situation so much, he missed you a lot, more than you could ever imagine.

Seojin was waiting for him at the lobby, she wanted to go for a walk and talk, to settle some little things about his role in the wedding.

"Finally, you're here!" She smiles, squeezing him in a hug and he does the same.

"Did you wait long?" He asks.

"Nope, I just had lunch with Y/N", she answers, eyeing Minho and waiting for his reaction to the mention of your name, he chuckles.

"So, did you have to put us in the same room?" He asks, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms. Seojin smiles, giving him puppy eyes.

"If I didn't you wouldn't speak to each other, I'm sure of it", she huffs.

"I would try talking to her, you know that"

"Yeah, but she'd probably run every time, that's why I had to go to this extent", Seojin starts walking and Minho follows her.

"I guess you're right", he says, tucking his hands in his pockets.

"Didn't you regret turning her down? I know you like her too"

"It doesn't matter if I regret it or not, she hates my guts now"

They walk for about five minutes before Seojin takes a deep breath and starts talking again.

"I know I shouldn't meddle into this but you're both my best friends so I feel like I have the right to intervene when you're just being dumb", Minho glares at her, "I'm sure she still likes you, Min"

Do you, though? You can't even look him in the eyes. You don't want to talk to him. He wants to believe in what Seojin is saying but he's afraid he lost his chance with you.

When he sees you almost bawling your eyes out because of the dress, he knows he has to do something, anything for you.

"So, I called someone I know that lives here in the island with her family and her grandma is a former tailor, she wants to check the dress and see what can be done", Minho says, looking at you sitted by the bed, your hands gripping the ruined dress.

You get up in a jump, wrapping your arms around his neck and squeezing him.

"Thank you so much, Min, I don't even know how to repay you", you realize too late how close you two are from each other. Stepping aside, you give him a sheepish smile, mumbling a "sorry"

He clears his throat, turning around and walking to the door, trying to hide the blush in his face.

>>>

Seojin held the position of the most beautiful woman you've ever seen… until now. You're seeing Minho's friend but she doesn't look real, she's so gorgeous that for a moment it looks like she's walking in slow motion.

What takes you out of your haze is the awkward interaction between them. Minho said she is someone he knows but are acquaintances close enough to ask for favors? And the way they are interacting tells you they're not friends either.

She's smiling at Minho and he's just there, nodding, there's not a single glance of affection in his behavior. He's not like this, sometimes he may seem cold and a bit mean, but he's the sweetest with the ones he likes, you know that because you used to be one of them.

"So, I'm Mina", she looks at you with a big smile and you greet her, telling your name. "Is this the dress?" She asks, looking at your garment bag.

"Yes, thank you so much for accepting to help", you say and she chuckles.

"Anything for Minho", she looks at him with a smile and you feel your chest ache even though he keeps a straight face.

She leads you into the house, it's a beautiful traditional construction. Her grandma is waiting in the living room and she asks Mina to make some tea while she looks at the dress.

"Can you help me bring the things?" She asks Minho and he nods.

The old lady is very nice, she tells you about her years of experience as a tailor and how she had to fix absolute disasters in her days, so your case will be easy peasy, she just has to replace the zipper with a new one.

"Give me half an hour", she reassures you with a smile and then looks around, "can you go see why my granddaughter is taking so long?" She asks and you nod, getting up and following a path you think leads to the kitchen.

"Does she know about us?" You hear Mina's voice and stop in your tracks, you shouldn't eavesdrop, right? Then why can't you move? Your heart starts beating so loudly you're not sure you'll be able to hear his answer.

"Let's not talk about that while she's here", Minho asks, sighing. "I'll meet you when you come to Seoul and we can talk"

You can't breathe. So they are not just friends, you feel dumb. Of course Minho would like a supermodel like her, even though you are beautiful you can't really compete with that.

You go back to the living room. You can't look at their faces after what you heard, is it immature? Yes, but it's not a secret that you're not over Minho and listening to him, thinking about him meeting with another woman just makes your heart break again, even though you thought the pain you were feeling would end after he rejected you last year.

"Are you alright?" He asks when he sits by your side, smiling slightly at you and you nod awkwardly.

Would you have gotten over him already if he just had said you are not his type? He just said he couldn't be more than friends with you, was he trying to be nice?

The old lady refuses to get paid for fixing your dress, she says it was so easy it shouldn't even count as a service, in return she asks you to come by again when you're in Jeju because she liked you. You thank her again, saying your goodbyes and walking to the car while she asks Minho for something only a man can do, since her son is not home yet.

You put the dress in the backseat of the car, finally breathing relieved.

"So you're the one I should thank", you're startled by Mina's voice behind you.

"Oh, for what?" You ask, turning around with a hand on your chest.

"For bringing Minho here", she smiles sadly and you frown. "I guess he didn't tell you", she says.

"I know that you're a thing or something like that", you say, is she trying to rub it in your face? Is she feeling threatened?

"Oh", she laughs, "no, we are not a thing"

"I don't understand, then", you say, trying to not smile, feeling a weight being lifted out of your chest.

"We dated a few years ago, but I did something terrible to him, I know he hated me after that", she sighs, "I've been trying to meet him for so long to apologize but he never gave me the time of day, so imagine my surprise when he willingly called me to ask for a favor", she smiles, "I guess you must mean a lot to him"

You feel your heart sink, did he really do that for you? You don't know what she did, but you know Minho doesn't forgive someone easily and he surely doesn't like to owe a favor to someone that did something bad to him.

"Anyways", she says awkwardly after you stare at her without saying a thing, "thank you, I hope you make him happy", she smiles, nodding to you and heading back.

Make him happy? Does she think you two are together? Did she notice you were jealous?

So many questions and no answer at all. You snap out of your thoughts when the gate to the house is closed with a loud noise. Minho walks to you, opening the door.

"Are you not getting in?"

You don't speak much on your trip back to the hotel, your head is just so full of thoughts you don't think you'll be able to form a sentence if you try to speak. Besides that, it's almost time for your outing with Seojin and the other bridesmaids, Minho's also in a hurry so you guess he has something planned with Jeonghan and the groomsman as well, so you both run to your room to get ready.

You're the first to shower since you'll take longer to dress up. You don't take too long, letting Minho go in while you do your hair and makeup in the wall mirror in the bedside.

You put on a tight navy blue dress, it's long enough to cover your ass but not enough to make it proper.

Minho comes out of the bathroom already dressed, he's wearing a white button down that looks heavenly as if it was made just for him and jeans that just embrace his toned thighs.

"You can take a picture if you want", the smirk on his lips makes you scoff, taking you out of your state of haze.

"Well, it's no secret that you're handsome", you point out, "I did fall in love with you after all"

Minho stops in his tracks, he did not expect you to bring that up. Do people that still have feelings for the other joke about it? He wants to believe he still has a chance, but the way you act, so nonchalantly, makes him insecure.

"You're pretty too", he says, ignoring your remark.

"Not as much as Mina", your voice sounds more bitter than you meant it to be, "she's really gorgeous"

You turn around, picking up your purse, you don't want him to see your face full of contempt and jealousy. You walk out of the room, not waiting for his answer, cursing yourself till you get to the lobby to find your friends.

There's nothing like a girl's night out to take all your worry away. You drink, flirt with strangers, play games, take a tour around Jeju eating delicious foods, go to karaoke and walk by the beach.

Around midnight the bridesmaids take a taxi back to the hotel but you and Seojin want to drink more and have more fun since it's her last day as an unmarried woman.

The fresh air of the beach sobers you up, you're still a bit dizzy, but not as wasted as before. Your friend is worse than you, she's stumbling and laughing at nothing.

"I love you so much", she says, grabbing your face and cupping your cheeks, "you know that, right?"

You chuckle, putting your hands over hers.

"Of course I know, and I love you too", she smiles, stumbling and falling down on the floor.

"My butt", she whines, caressing her sides.

It seems like she's too wasted now, it's time to go back. You call Jeonghan, asking him if he can come pick you two up by the beach and as the gentleman he is, he didn't drink because he knew his fiancee would get too drunk to even walk and need someone to pick her up. You laugh at his answer and wait for him, it's good to know Seojin will have someone to take care of her like that.

You all were friends in college and you love Jeonghan, but you were always closest to Seojin. She came up to you and asked to be your friend on the first day of school when you were all alone since you didn't know anyone in the city, much less in that university.

You stare at the waves in the ocean, it's really calming to feel the breeze and the sound of the sea.

"My love", Seojin screams, looking behind you. She gets up and runs before you can help her. You turn around to find Jeonghan and Minho coming in your direction. Seojin jumps into her fiance's arms, giggling and kissing his face.

"Are you alright?" Jeonghan asks her and she nods frantically, mumbling 'better now' while resting her head on his shoulder. He looks at you with a brow lifted, questioning and you chuckle, nodding.

"What about you?" Minho asks and you roll your eyes, walking in a straight line to prove you're fine but your body betrays you and you trip on your own feet. You don't fall since Minho wraps his arms around your waist holding you. Why do his hands feel so good on you, when he's holding you? Why must you still feel this way after being rejected? Don't you have any pride left? Those ungodly reflexes he has are annoying sometimes, you'd rather he'd let you fall face first on the sand.

"Are you sure?" He asks, a judging look in his face.

"Yes, I'm sure", you say, stepping away from him.

Maybe you're still a little bit tipsier than you thought.

He glances at Jeonghan and he shrugs, they take you and Seojin to the car, securing you two on your seatbelts. The trip back is noisy, unfortunately Seojin is not a sleepy drunk, she gets even more energetic in her intoxicated state. So she tells Jeonghan and Minho about everything you did during your outing, every detail, even that three guys tried to take you home after you drunk flirted with them.

You give your goodbyes in the lobby, since they are staying in another wing of the hotel. You and Minho go to the elevator and you notice he's drunk too, he tries to hide it, but he keeps stumbling and has to lean on the elevator's wall to keep standing.

"I think you're much prettier than Mina", he blurts out of nowhere and your head snaps at him, a frown in your face. "You didn't let me finish earlier, I was going to say that you're the prettiest girl in the world for me"

The doors to the elevator open and he walks away, like what he just said didn't leave you completely lost. You feel your heart beat faster, following him to your room and leaning on the door after you close it, staring at him while he walks around the room.

Your mind is full of thoughts, why is he always so nice to you? You suddenly have the preposterous urge to tell him again you're in love with him, it must be the alcohol, but maybe you need him to tell you he doesn't like you in that way, maybe if you're humiliated one more time you'll be able to let him go.

"You shouldn't be nice to me", he looks at you, brows furrowed in confusion, "if you do I'll cross the line you drew last year", you stumble a bit, trying to get to him and he holds you. "I'll kiss you if you don't stop me", you say, noticing how close you're from each other.

Minho doesn't say anything, his head is spinning a bit and he's sure you're bluffing. He's so wrong, though. He realizes that only when your lips come crashing on his, he doesn't even have time to process what's happening before you push him away, stepping aside.

"I-I'm sorry", you say, 'of course he won't reciprocate', you think.

However, contrary to your expectations, he wraps his arms around your waist, pressing his hand on the small of your back and pulling you back to his embrace, kissing you. His lips are soft and his movements are rushed like he's been waiting to do that for a long time.

Maybe you're just dreaming while awake, it's impossible for him to be kissing you, right?

You wake up feeling your head hurting like crazy, your mouth is dry and you feel sick. Suddenly what happened comes crushing in, did you actually kiss Minho? And the most important part, did he reciprocate? You can't remember, the last thing that you recall is kissing him but everything after that is just a blur.

You look around the room, trying to find him and when you realize he's nowhere to be seen, you can only draw one conclusion. It seems you've been rejected once more.

It's okay, now you feel like you can get over this crush, you two didn't have a future anyway. You want to cry, you really do, but you can't show up to your friend's wedding with puff eyes and you don't want to stay in this room for long, you don't want to meet him again until the wedding. So you grab your dress and the things you'll need and take it to the bridal suite.

Minho is happy, you still like him after all. After you two kissed you fell asleep, he tucked you in bed and watched you. You were always a sleepy drunk, when he's more like Seojin. He feels energetic until the exhaustion hits him.

He wakes up early, to grab some coffee and hangover medicine for you two, but when he comes back waiting to find you awake, you're nowhere, your things are not there either. Did you regret kissing him? Maybe you just wanted to feel something familiar with him. No, he's not going to let these intrusive thoughts make him assume things, he needs to talk to you.

And he would, if you answered his calls or his texts. He freaks out even more when his phone buzzes with a bunch of texts.

>>>

You're trying to distract yourself, telling stories about your college times with Seojin to the other bridesmaids and helping the bride relax before her big moment. You don't want to tell her about the whole thing with Minho, you don't want to turn her big day into a drama about yourself.

She keeps frowning while looking at the phone, the ceremony is going to start in less than thirty minutes so it's understandable that she's nervous.

She looks at you with desperate eyes.

"The wedding planner just texted me saying there is something wrong with the menu, can you check it for me?"

"Of course, I'll be back as soon as possible", you smile reassuring her. It's weird though, you went through all the details with the staff before meeting with Seojin.

You walk to the kitchen, looking for the wedding planner and finally finds her talking to the waiters.

"Hey, what's wrong with the menu?" You ask the older woman and she looks at you, confused.

"What do you mean?" She asks, "there's nothing wrong"

You frown, looking around. Seojin clearly told you the wedding planner was the one to report the issue, so it's impossible for her to not know about it.

"Hm, Seojin told me there was a problem?!"

"She must be confused, honey, brides get really stressed, maybe she read some of my texts wrong", she tries to reassure you and you nod, not really buying it. Seojin is a perfectionist, she wouldn't make this kind of mistake. But if the wedding planner is telling you there's nothing wrong then there's nothing you can do about it.

You walk back to the bridal suite, twenty minutes till the ceremony. When you open the door there's no one else there, where did they go? You look around trying to find someone but they're not even in the dressroom. The door opens behind you and you turn around ready to ask where's everyone, when you see Minho closing the door.

He stares at you for a few seconds, waiting for your reaction.

"Did you regret kissing me?" He asks, taking a few steps towards you.

"What are you talking about?" You say, trying to sound nonchalantly even though you want to cry just by looking at his face.

"You kissed me, you should take responsibility", he gets closer.

You feel your throat dry, taking a step back.

"You're the one who left me by myself", you mumble.

"I just went out to buy meds for us, why did you assume things?"

"Of course I'd assume things, you rejected me once, why wouldn't you do it again?" You point out, feeling angry and your answer feels like daggers being shot at him.

He takes a deep breath, grabbing both your hands and holding it close to his chest.

"There's not a day I don't regret turning you down that time", he sighs, "the truth is that I liked you since the first time I saw you but I couldn't ruin our friendship and I was so scared that I wouldn't be enough for you, like I wasn't enough for her"

You know about who he's talking about and want to kick him for even thinking you're anything like Mina, but most you want to punch her in the face, she broke his heart and left him in crumbles.

"I would never do anything to hurt you", you whisper, he's so close to you know, you can feel his breathing hitting your face.

"I know, I was scared that time and I'm still scared", he lifts your hand to his lips, "but if you give me one more chance I promise I'll be better, no one's gonna love you more than me and I'll always be there for you"

You waited for this for so long you're not even sure if it's happening.

"Can you pinch me?" You ask and he smirks.

"I can bite", he slides his hands to your waist, getting closer and giving a peek to your lips, biting your lower lip, making you shiver.

"Now I know it's real", you say, staring into his dark eyes.

"Should I take this as a yes?" He asks and you nod.

"I have been yours ever since I met you, there's not another answer but yes when it comes to you"

He smiles, the brightest smile you ever seen on him, then he kisses you, and he wants you to remember this one for the rest of your life.

Walking down the aisle with the other bridesmaids and groomsmen, arms linked with Minho's while exchanging knowing smiles, you can't help but imagine if one day it's going to be you two there. Minho on the other side is already planning how he's going to propose, because he's absolutely sure next time it's going to be you in a wedding dress and him waiting patiently for your hand.

[divine-donna]

hey, can you make Miguel O'Hara X gender neutral reader? Where reader (Miguel lover) accidentally get teleport or glitch in the spider verse where they (the Spidey's) were in the middle of chasing miles? Thank you! <3

hi anon. i'm happy to write this for you.

i wrote this in the form of headcanons rather than a fic. i'm still recuperating from finishing dragon age: inquisition, the succession finale (even if it was like a week ago), my adrenaline high from the across the spiderverse, and the other things i have written already.

some creative additions i made: this is a spidey! reader. i think it naturally made more sense to have a spidey! reader rather than a civilian. i would have to jump through a lot of hoops for a civilian reader to make sense and my brain does not have the capacity to jump through those hoops right now.

you deserved a well needed rest. after all the work you had been pulling to keep the multiverse safe, it was the least you deserved. especially a nap.

what you didn't expect when you went home was to just fall asleep on the couch.

you had gone out with your friends, finally caught up with them, and changing into some comfortable lounging clothes. you had plans to watch the newest 3 hour long ego project the director called a movie. and naturally because it was 3 hours long and an ego project filled with nothing, you ended up falling asleep.

what you forgot to take off was your multiversal band. you always kept it on in case of emergencies.

you also had a habit of rolling around in your sleep a bit. and you don't have the best luck with technology.

naturally your band malfunctions and you're thrown into the portal and transported back to hq.

ideally you didn't want to be falling through the space. but you were. and that woke you up.

"fuck! fuck! fuck!"

you had no web shooters. why would you? who sleeps with web shooters anyways? (actually there are some spider people that might)

and the worst part is, no one seemed to notice that you were falling. because they were busy doing something else.

when you squinted your eyes, you saw what was happening: every single spider-person that was at hq was chasing after one singular spider-person.

you didn't know who it was but from the looks of it, it looked like a young spider-person. someone who was only a kid.

if only you weren't just free falling-

"(y/n)! what are you doing here!" a familiar voice exclaims.

he caught you in midair, swinging safely to the nearest platform that wasn't stampeding with spider people and other variations of spider totems to set you down.

you took in his appearance. his hair was disheveled and his fangs were poking out. you also noticed his talons were out too and his breathing was heavy.

"i...i was teleported here on accident." you explain. "what is going on?"

"i can't talk right now. go back home! it's supposed to be your day off!" he gives you a small kiss on your cheek and prepares himself to jump off the platform.

"miguel, who is that?"

"miles morales. he disrupted a canon event and now the multiverse is at stake! and we're trying to prevent him from causing another one."

"okay well did you try talking to him?"

"of course!" he exclaims, turning to look at you. "it's the first thing i did. but he doesn't want to listen. now i have to catch him before he disappears!"

he doesn't even wait for you to respond before jumping off. as much as miguel loved you and loved talking to you and cherished your presence, he had to catch up to miles. he had to stop him.

he had to save the multiverse.

you were left with a sinking pit in your stomach. something told you that today was not the day to take off.

but first you needed to find lyla or margo to help with your watch so you can grab your suit and equipment and come back.

[sweetnans]

a/n: This could contain some mistakes, english is not my first language. Enjoy 💫

Pt.1

You saw Bakugo flying away, blasting explosions through the air, chasing Midoriya, who was miles away from him. A bad omen twinkling in your guts right after he disappeared from your sight.

You were in the city, trying to help the heroes establish the order again. Helping elders and kids find his relatives again in the middle of chaos, some of your classmates helping you and the other heroes doing some sweeping in the remains of disaster after Shigaraki broke the city in two.

Ochako screamed your name because your quirk was useful in the thing that she was doing. That helped you a lot to keep your mind away from your boyfriend.

He told you we'll be careful and you trusted him with all your heart.

Cleaning the city, evacuating civilians, and watching your back for any villain to appear out of nowhere, made you extremely tired.

You were putting your hands in some wreck from machia destroying everything on his way when an agitated Todoroki stumble in your view.

"Have you seen Bakugo?" He asked right away catching his breath a little bit.

"I saw him fifteen minutes ago flying that way chasing Midoriya," you pointed out to the horizon, and that didn't change Todoroki demeanor, made it worse. "Why?" You grew anxious at his face. Todoroki wasn't the kind of person who wore his emotions on his face, but right now, it was fear all over gaze. "Why Shoto?" Your voice trembled.

"We have to go, right now" he looked at Ochako, and she caught the hint right away.

"I got your back," she said, giving you a little push.

Todoroki grabbed you by your arm and started making a path of ice, sliding in it with you at his back. You ignored the cold and the way that he was going so fast that you almost slipped two times only for him to grab you tighter. You've never seen him act like that, desperate and breaking the rules, not to mention Ochako as well, after what happened in Kamino, you saw a change in her but never expected to cover you two for running straight to something very dangerous without any hero escorting or knowing about.

"Are you okay?" Todoroki shouted in front of you, his voice muffled for the sound of the ice and because he was giving you his back.

"I don't understand what's going on" you yelled back.

"You know your boyfriend," he said, giving you a side eye, "He can be very reckless"

Ok, now you expected the worst.

"What did you see exactly? Where the fuck are we going?" You sounded desperate and you knew that you needed to keep your calm because you were a hero, you needed to act like one but in the other hand, you loved the bastard and you didn't know anything about him and in what state you would find him.

"I think there's something bigger going on in that direction. I'm pretty sure my father is there, and I think that neither Midoriya nor Bakugo should be there. That's what worries me"

He sounded like he was worried. You knew that your boyfriend and Midoriya made him come out of his shell of trauma, and that, even though Katsuki didn't think that, they were friends.

"If your dad is there, maybe they're not in danger. He's protecting them, isn't he?" You asked, trying to see the bright side. At least they were with the number one hero.

"Why do you think my father is there?"

He didn't mean to make you feel dumb but it was a conclusion that you didn't want to come to.

It didn't settle your nerves down, the exact opposite, and it increased when you started to notice the columns of smoke and flames far away, the sound coming straight after that.

"Fucking hell" you muttered to yourself.

You closed your eyes, putting away all your intrusive thoughts and preparing yourself to fight against Shigaraki.

The villain was like an unhinged king Midas, but instead of making gold, he destroyed everything he touched. His capacity to break down everything was absurd, and he seemed undefeatable.

"Hang on!" Todoroki screamed worry laced in his tone.

His path of ice stopped while grabbing you firmly, so you wouldn't trip over him from the impulse. He was still in front of you, blocking every view from you to see. The grip in your arm was hurting, but you didn't have the chance of saying anything before he made a mountain of ice to stop Shigaraki from tearing up Aizawa's face.

You were shocked to see your teacher bleeding and on his knees.

The neurons in your brain connected quickly. He was using his quirk to suppress Shigaraki's quirk. Now that he wasn't able to do that, the situation morphed into one that was ten times worse.

Shigaraki destroyed Todoroki's ice in an instant. You were in the ground when Deku appeared out of nowhere and tackled Shigaraki.

You ran towards Aizawa kneeling at his side to see the damage in his face. He couldn't open one of his eyes, and the bleeding wasn't stopping.

"What are you doing here?" he coughed his answer and put on a worried face.

"We are the back up team, remember?" You tried to joke but you were out of breath.

"Get away from here. It's too dangerous. " He was getting weaker, and you grabbed him, helping the other heroes.

"No chance, sensei. I promise you'll have me in one piece when this ends"

Your quirk wasn't very useful in hand to hand combat. You could grow vines in every part of your body, making them useful for climbing, swinging, catching, and with suitable surfaces, flying, but this time you didn't have any building at your sides to tie up your vines Sero style.

"Why did you bring her here?" You heard Bakugo yell at Todoroki while shooting explosion to Shigaraki.

Todoroki didn't answer.

After a round full of fights, Shigaraki stopped. He was in the center of it while everyone was panting at his side in a prudent distance. Todoroki made his way to his father, throwing him some of his ice so he could cool down and keep fighting. This was far from ending.

Bakugo made it to your side. He didn't touch you in any way. He was just by your side, his chest rising and falling with every breath he took.

"Before you say something," you started knowing that he would call you out for coming. "I'm here to back everyone up. I want you to do your best there and destroy that bitch"

He smiled smugly at your words and gave you a look taking you in.

"You got it princess"

You ran back to Aizawa, wrapping his leg with your vines to cut the bleeding. Midoriya was there losing it. The heroes telling him to go.

"Midoriya," you snapped your fingers at his crying face. "Go"

In your peripherals, you could see Shigaraki ready to touch the ground again when something in his chest exploded, shredding all his skin. He reached his limits.

Everything happened so fast. Midoriya grabbed you all with his quirk lifting you up from the ground before Shigaraki destroyed everyone.

You didn't know that Midoriya could float, and it seemed that the other didn't know it too.

You couldn't let go Aizawa's leg from your vines, so you weren't much of a help trying to secure the others with your quirk, lightening Deku's work. You could keep them floating, but you needed something to tie your vines and there wasn't any building around.

While thinking of ways you could help, Deku left you all in the ground just staying with Shigaraki in the sky.

"Shoto, take care of the wounded" Endeavor said looking at him and then looking at you. "You, help him too"

You nodded and went straight to settle Grand Torino on the ground.

Bakugo started yelling at Midoriya, but you couldn't catch anything he said.

Midoriya started to punch Shigaraki in the air repeatedly, over and over, but the bastard was far from getting unconscious.

"He's going to break his limbs again." Shoto remarked, standing up and watching the fight. You did it, too.

"Todoroki are you done?" Bakugo said.

"Yes, what do you-"

"Come here and hold on tightly,"

Todoroki made his way to Katsuki while he was yelling his plan to Endeavor. He was going to Midoriya to help him get rid of Shigaraki.

With Endeavor and Todoroki at his back, he started elevating, making his way faster to his friend.

Bakugo grabbed Endeavor and throwed him to Shigaraki. Enveavor hugged him, telling everyone to go away. He lit himself up, burning Shigaraki to the core, leaving him roasted like a burned chicken.

Endeavor fell, and Todoroki caught him in the air.

You were out of breath watching everything passing so quickly in front of your eyes. From your position, the scene seemed like it was near to end. You thought that Shigaraki was the next one to collapse from the air.

"Why isn't he falling like Endeavor?" you asked the heroes that were beside you, but they were clueless too.

In a span of seconds, something emerged from Shigaraki's body, aiming straight to hurt Midoriya when the explosions caught your eyes, three to be exact.

Bakugo tackled Midoriya receiving all the impact from Shigaraki's quirk, red spiky blades passing through his arm, chest, stomach, and leg, hurting him bad.

You heard you screaming like it was a third person. You felt your throat getting sore and your vocal chords straining out.

Your vines weakened beside you, breaking loose from Aizawa's leg because you couldn't concentrate on anything other than Katsuki hurt and falling from the sky above you.

You were ready to throw some vines to catch him, but Todoroki grabbed him by his leg holding Endeavor's and Katsuki's weight.

"Hey, we need you here," Lock Hero snapped you from your trance.

You blinked a few times, dissipating the tears you hadn't noticed streaming down your face. You put yourself together and kneel beside Aizawa, wrapping your vines around his bleeding leg.

You tried not to look up. You wanted to keep your vines in position so your teacher wouldn't bleed to death before the EMTs arrived. But the try was worthless.

Midoriya was turning into something you hadn't seen before. He was seeing red. He made his way to Shigaraki, biting the blades until he was in front of him. The villain was able to reach him now, and he absolutely did.

Todoroki screamed, everyone did, even you. Shigaraki was absorbing Midoriya's quirk.

You were midway of keep screaming when all of a sudden something lit up in the sky and blinded you, then, complete silence. Both of them, Midoriya and the villain fell from the sky.

What happened after was something that you were almost unable to explain. The other from the league came and made his appereance venting out some secrets that took you and everyone else by surprise.

Everybody ended wounded, even though that, while taking care of the already wounded, had to interfere. Aizawa and Bakugo, whose heartbeat was steady but faintly, got all your attention. You had to keep them safe.

You were one of the conscious ones while everybody was dropped dead. You helped the paramedics carry the bodies of your classmates and friends using your vines and tucked them safely in the ambulance.

They took you to the nearest hospital, where they checked your vitals and looked up for hidden wounds. You didn't have any.

"I need to see my boyfriend," you almost pleaded to one of the nurses.

When Todoroki dropped Bakugo to your side to keep fighting against his own brother, you leaned on your boyfriend for a while, touching his hair and cleaning the blood from his body, the tears dropping to his uniform. You watched his eyes closed and prayed that he wasn't feeling any pain.

The nurse gave you a sympathetic look. You weren't asking for impossible. You knew he would be fine, and he would give you shit about your look and make fun of you for being a cry baby.

You needed him.

"I'll see what I can do"

That sentence stucked for a few hours. She gave you his room, but the doctors didn't allow you to come in. They said that they were still checking on him.

Mitsuki called, and even though she sounded like she was about to cry, she said firmly to you that you had to punch him in the face the minute he woke up, for being so stupid to get hurt.

You cried a little talking to her, and she told you the same that his son told you just the say before. He would never leave your side.

After two hours, the doctors and several nurses left Katsuki's dorm. You stood up at the sight of them and the doctor just smiled to you.

"I think he wants to see you too"

That took all of your breath away. He was awake.

Joining your hands, you made your way to the dorm while the doctor held the door for you.

You couldn't help but sob at the sight of him. He was connected to several machines, and his body was wrapped around bandages.

"Don't cry," he told you, holding his own tears at the sight of you. "C'mere"

You sprinted at him and pulled the chair to sit by his side.

"Oh no," he said, scooting over his bed. "I need to know I'm not dreaming"

"I don't want to hurt you," you said, doubting if it was a good idea or not.

"It's hurting not having you right here," he pleaded.

He sounded desperate, touch starved. You complied.

Silence flooded between the two of you, only the beeping from the machine echoing in the room and your heartbeat matching his.

"Your mom called. She said she's proud of you, " you told him. Well, you lied to him, but you knew that deep down that was Mitsuki meant.

"She didn't say that shit," he shook his head in disbelief.

"Nah, she said something about you being stupid for risking your life." You looked up at him, and he pouted. He did that face when his mind went cloudy.

"Mm," he hummed in response and stayed still for a moment, caressing your hair and twisting your locks in his fingers while brushing it with them. "I'm sorry"

Katsuki wasn't the type of boyfriend to verbalize his apologies. He was more the type of doing things to fix what he did. His love language was acts of service for rights and wrongs.

"If you are saying sorry for what I think you are saying, sorry, I won't forgive you," you whispered, searching for his eyes to meet yours. "I'm proud of you Katsuki, you did exactly what every other heroe would have done"

"But I broke the promise I made to you," he sounded conflicted. He was a man to his words but he was also a great hero.

"You did what you had to do. You saved not only Midoriya's but many more lives. I know you just woke up, but have you realized what it could've had happened if he hurt Midoriya instead of you? That son of a bitch was acting like some sort of unbreakable loser and after he did that to you Midoriya went nuts, he almost lost his mind using Shigaraki as a punching bag"

He went quiet for a minute and then hugged you with the remains of his strength after a huge fight. You could feel his arms around you, hanging faintly but his grip firm on you, his head against yours.

"It's okay baby, you are okay, I'm okay, everybody's fine," you hummed against his chest.

"When I saw you behind icy-hot, I almost lost it," he blurted. "The first thing in my mind was getting you out of there, getting you as far away as possible, and then I saw how you were helping Aizawa with his leg, and then I realized that you are one of us too. Back there, you were doing ground control, but what if we need you and your quirk fighting next to us?, I can't lose it like I did with you there knowing that you are as capable as me doing this kind of shit, I'm sorry" his voice trembled and you tried to look at him.

"Sorry for what, Katsuki? For caring for me? Please, we saw Shigaraki, how he broke everything in his way. I was scared as shit when I saw you fighting, and when you got hurt, but I do know you too, I know your strength, I know you stubbornness, I know you care for others even if you try to hide it, I would've do the same for one of our classmates and I know it felt more personal to you being that person Midoriya, it's fine, shit like this is going to happen again and again but I'll be here, next to your wounded body everytime and I know if it was me laying here with all these bandages in my body, you'll be here too"

You didn't expect that your speech broke him, but he did, in a Bakugo way. He exhaled the longest sigh that you ever heard, and his heart was beating like it was going to blast out his chest. But he was fine knowing that you wouldn't leave his side anytime soon.

Do not edit or reupload my works elsewhere! All rights reserved.

[moody-alcoholic]

Chapter 4 - The Stalker

Summary: 5.2k words. 141 learn about your stalker situation and Simon makes a plan to help, but things escalate faster then expected and you end up having to come to terms with things a lot quicker then you expect.

CW: mentions of trauma, mental health, abusive ex, stalking, talking about physical abuse, alcohol, angst, hurt/comfort (kinda).

Previous - masterlist - Next

AO3

Enjoy <3

“Let’s debrief, then maybe you will get some answers.” John says standing up straight. 

“How did the Renfolds job go?” He asks looking over at Simon. 

“Easy, needed his weapon cleaning. Built a shooting range in his basement.” Simon explains. 

“Anything we should be concerned about?” John asks. 

“Don’t think so, seems like it’s just for personal use.” Simon says. John looks down at you. 

“What do you think?” You look up at John confused. He want’s your opinion? 

“I-I don’t know, I was a bit distracted by the guns, and the shooting range.” And how good Simon looked. John nods looking over at Johnny. 

“What happened with you?” He asks. 

“Well it was all going according to plan until the supposedly empty building was no longer empty.” Johnny explained smiling.

“You were only supposed to be gathering intel how did it end in a gunfight?” John asked. 

“They didn’t take kindly to me snooping around their stuff.” Johnny says shrugging. “You should have sent Ghost in.” 

“I needed you to confirm the cargo. I gave Ghost the Renfolds job so he’d be near by.” John explained. Johnny nodded. 

“Well they’ve got enough explosives in that place to blow London to pieces.” 

“Is it secure?” John asks.

“About as secure as it can be, I found shipping manifests, I assume they’re planning on moving it when they get the chance.” Johnny explains.

“Hang on a second.” You interrupt. “You had a gunfight in a building with enough explosives to blow up London?” Simon chuckles behind you. 

“Johnny’s being dramatic. But yes unfortunately we weren’t left with much of a choice.” John says. He looks over at Johnny and Gaz for a second. 

“Johnny, and Gaz go back tomorrow secure the place then hand it over to the Met. The quicker we can get everything destroyed the better.” John says as you watch Johnny and Kyle nod. 

“The Met? As in New Scotland Yard as in the metropolitan police?” You ask. John nods. 

“It’s expensive for the Met to plan a sting, collect the legal evidence, wait for warrants. When we can just sneak in and get all the evidence they need and maybe even shut it down for them. We’re cheaper too.” John explains.

“So you work for the Met?” You ask. You hear Simon laugh again. 

“No, we don’t work for anyone, but sometimes they ask for our help and we’re usually more then happy to oblige.” 

“Besides means they turn a blind eye when we make people disappear.” Johnny laughs winking at you. You can’t tell if he’s being serious or not. There’s a few seconds of silence before everyone turns to you. 

“You said you were recommended us, why?” John asks. You suddenly feel nervous, you start rubbing your hands together. They’ve cleared up somethings now it’s your turn. 

“I have an ex.” You say looking down at the floor. Great start. 

“We broke up about a month ago, it was messy. I don’t think he’s quite over it yet.” You remember the break up. It was messy, in multiple ways. Lot’s of shouting, screaming, the police being called. You hoped it would be the last time you’d ever have to explain away bruises. You locked him out your flat and he sat outside the door begging to be let back in. How sorry he was, eventually you caved letting him fearing your neighbours would report you to the police for noise disturbance. It was the worst decision you made.

You feel a hand on your shoulder pulling you out of you head. You look up Johnny has moved closer to you. It’s Simon’s hand on your shoulder, you almost can’t believe it, he gives you a gentle squeeze. You thought he hated you. Or at the very least was annoyed by your presence. Maybe you misjudged him. 

“Is he stalking you lass?” Johnny asks. You don’t know what to say, you don’t exactly have proof just a feeling. You can’t get all worked up over a feeling. You know he’s been trying to contact you, creating accounts on social media to message you to the point where you needed to deactivate all your accounts. You know he’s been finding your number every time you change it, and you know he’s in contact with your family.

“He just won’t leave me alone. I think it’s making me paranoid. He keeps getting my number every time I change it. He managed to get a key to my flat after I kicked him out. I came home one day to find him moved back in. He..” You stop yourself. They didn’t need to know how that story ends. Simon's hand is warm on your shoulder, you don’t want it to leave. You sigh looking up. 

“I don’t have proof, if that’s you want it’s just a stupid feeling.” You say looking at John. 

“When was the last time he contacted you?” John asks.

“Saturday.” You say, John hums his eyes flick up to Simon. You look over at Johnny and Kyle, they’re leaned forward in the sofa looking at you. 

“I’m assuming this relationship was not the best?” Simon asks. You shake your head. He squeezes your shoulder again then his hand leaves. 

“C’mon, lets have a chat.” He says. You get up confused. All of a sudden he wants to talk? You follow him and he takes you into John’s office, closing the door behind you. 

“Sit,” he says pointing at the sofa in the corner of the room. He drags over one of the chairs and sits in front of you. There is a coffee table between you both, you look at him as he leans forward in the chair. 

“I thought maybe you would like some privacy.” He says. You sigh and go back to rubbing your hands. 

“Let’s start easy. What’s his name?” Simon asks. 

“Joe, Joe Sharp.” You say. 

“How long were you together?” 

“3 years, we lived together for 2, that’s when things changed when he moved in.” You say, hanging your head again. 

“Abusive?” He asks. You nod.

“Physical, verbal?” You nod again. You hear him sigh. 

“Why do you think he’s stalking you?” He asks you look up at him. His eyes are soft, kind. Even the way he’s holding his body, he’s like a different person. 

“I don’t know I think I’m just paranoid, he’s been so desperate to keep in contact with me that I think I just over think everything. I feel like I see him when I’m sure he’s not there. I feel like I’m being followed whenever I’m alone. The nightmares about him breaking into my flat don’t help.” You stop yourself. 

“It sounds stupid when I say it out loud.” 

“It’s not stupid.” Simon says. “Hey look at me.” You look up at him. 

“It’s not stupid. You would be surprised how many times people think they’re being stalked only to find out their intuition was correct.” He says. You nod. 

“First things first though we need proof.”

“I don’t have any.” You admit. He nods. 

“That’s okay, the best way to get a stalker out is to make them jealous. Do you have social media, Facebook, Instagram? Whatever one people use now-a-days.” 

“I’ve deactivated them but I can get them back.” You say reaching for your phone. He nods.

“Make a post, something along the lines of ‘I’m so happy in my new relationship.’ If you want to make it extra believable I can hold your hand you can take a picture?” He says, raising an eyebrow. You nod and he gets up moving next to you on the sofa. He lays his hand out palm up and you slip your fingers between his. His hands are big, and soft. Not what you were expecting. It sends shivers down your spine. It’s the first time you’ve held anyone's hand since your ex.

This is not the same though, this is not romantic. Why does it feel so nice though. You bring your phone up and snap the picture. Looking up at him, his eyes look deep into yours, he has such beautiful eyes. You look away taking your hand out his so you can get back to typing. You pick Instagram, it’s most likely the one he would check the most. You type it out and attach the photo. 

“Should I unblock his accounts?” You ask nervously. 

“It would be helpful, you can always block him again after.” He says. You hover over the post button. You turn to look at Simon. 

“You don’t have to do this but trust me it’s the easiest and quickest way to bait him out.” Simon says. You take a deep breath in and post it. 

“Good now we wait.” Simon says getting up. You follow putting your phone back in your pocket. 

“What do I do?” You ask. 

“Get on with your day act like everything is normal. I’ll give you my number. He tries to contact you, you think you see him, you get a feeling that he’s following you, anything. You call me immediately.” His voice is commanding, he’s looking you in the eyes. It’s not hairs standing up on the back of your neck anymore it’s a new feeling, like a warmth deep within you. You swallow hard handing him your phone so he can put his number in. You take it back putting it back in your pocket. 

“Simon, I can’t afford to hire you guys, I heard you’re pretty pricey.” You say as he turns to leave the room. 

“Don’t worry about that.” He says. That doesn't exactly put you at ease but it’s better then them demanding payment. They’re helping you, they don’t need to. Besides what if you’re wrong and it is all just your paranoid mind playing tricks on you. Then you’ve just wasted their time. You try to push the thoughts away, especially now you’ve basically just kicked the hornets nest. 

When you get back out Simon explains the situation without going into too much detail. He tells Johnny to walk you home. This time when you go to protest you’re shut down by John who insists it’s necessary. You don’t argue it’s been a long day. You let Johnny take you home, he keeps you at ease, back to his bubbly self as he spouts off more stories from his army days. He keeps your mind occupied, you’re not constantly looking over your shoulder. 

“You know you did good today. Most people would have freaked out.” Johnny says once you reach the building. 

“I don’t know if I’ve processed it really yet.” You say chuckling. He nods.

“Well you have my number if you need anything.” He says. 

“Thanks, you take care of that arm.” You say. 

“‘Cause lass it’ll be good as new by tomorrow.” He says patting you on the shoulder then turns to leave. 

—————————— 

By the evening you had calmed down and you were sat watching TV. You couldn’t help but think back to holding Simon’s hand. You find yourself opening your phone and checking the picture. It was a nice picture even though you only snapped it quickly. God were you really that lonely that holding someones hand is enough to have you craving touch. You smile anyway letting yourself enjoy the feeling. It had been a while since you could imagine yourself being touched, or held like that again, let alone falling in love. Maybe this was healing, maybe the dark thoughts bought on with receiving any amount off affection were gone. It’s not long before the peacefulness of the moment is shattered by a sharp knock at the door. You panic almost instantly, holding your breath. 

“Babe it’s me.” You freeze as he knocks again. You look down at your phone, your fingers working their way to your contact list. You can’t think. Maybe he’ll think you’re out. You crawl off the sofa to the TV and the light to turn them off as the phone rings. 

“Hello.” It’s Simon’s voice, it snaps you back into reality. You can still hear him calling at the door. You crawl into the bedroom leaning up against the bed.  

“H-He’s at my door Simon.” You say hearing your voice break. 

“Okay where are you in the living room?” He asks, you can hear keys jingling down the phone. 

“Bedroom.” You say as quiet as you can so you’re sure he won’t be able to hear you. 

“Okay, I’m on my way can you stay were you are?” He says as you hear a car door close. You’re too scared to move, even if you wanted too. 

“Yeah, I-I’m staying here.” You say. The knocking has stopped but you’re sure you can still hear his feet shuffling outside. 

“I’m going to hang up now but I’ll be there soon okay.” 

“Okay.” You reply back tears are streaming down your cheeks now. You hear the call end and you clutch the phone. 

“Baby, we need to talk. Are you seeing someone else? Is he here now?” You hear him say, there’s an edge to his voice, something you haven’t herd in ages, it’s anger. You want to scream, yell at him to go away but you’re still trying to cling on to the fact he might not know you’re in. You sit there for what feels like hours hugging your legs. Eventually after a few more pleas and knocks it goes silent and stays silent.

Your heart is pounding in your chest and you feel sick. Where is Simon? It’s hard to keep track of time. You start spiralling, thinking of the worst possible things. This was the first time he has been back to the flat since you had the locks changed. That was almost 4 weeks ago. This is the closest he has been to you since you broke up with him. It felt too close. Like not even a deadbolt on the door or changing the locks could stop him. There is another knock at the door. You freeze again almost want to scream at him to leave. Why is he here why is he back? 

“It’s me, it’s Simon.” For a second you don’t believe it what if it’s a trick? No you called him and now he’s here. You force yourself to stand up walking over to the front door still clutching your phone in your hand. You unlock the dead bolt, then the lock, then open the handle. You see him standing there, you look round there is definitely no one else around now. He steps inside and you go through your routine of closing all the locks and covering the peephole. He looks around your tiny flat then turns to you.

“You okay?” he asks. You nod, it’s a lie but you don’t care he’s here now and that makes you feel safe. 

“Did you see him?” You ask, he shakes his head. He walks around your flat quickly, looking into the bedroom then walks back over to you. 

“I’ll stay the night, if that’s alright with you?” He asks. You don’t really know how to respond to that. This is the first time you have had a man in your flat since the break up. He dropped everything to come when you needed him. You feel safe around him but you don’t know him. You want to get to know him though. And you definitely don't want to be alone. 

“You can stay.” You say, swallowing the lump in your throat. He nods. 

“You sure you’re okay?” He asks frowning. You don’t want to lie again but you weren't expecting him to ask again. Tears threaten to spill down your cheeks and you force yourself to choke them away. 

“Sit down, I’ll get you a drink.” He says, turning into your kitchen. You walk over to the couch and sit down. 

“There’s wine in the fridge.” You say. 

“Lets start with water.” He replies as you hear the tap run. You pull your legs up to your chest. Simon comes over and hands you the glass then sits on the far end of the sofa. You sip the water as you both sit in silence. 

“Did he say anything?” Simon asks. 

“Just the usual, he misses me, he’s sorry, asked if it was true that I was seeing someone.” You say taking another sip of water. You look over at Simon his eyes scanning over you. It’s starting to get dark out but you don’t want to put the lights on worried he’ll see them and come back. 

“Are you hungry?” You ask Simon. 

“I ate at home.” He says. You nod looking at yourself in the black of the TV. You reach over and turn it on to whatever mindless show you were watching before. Simon doesn't say anything sometimes you catch him looking over at you out the corner of your eye. You order some food and something for Simon too, if he wants it. Even though you’re expecting it the doorbell ringing still makes you jump.

“I got it.” Simon says and before you can protest he’s on his feet. 

“One of them is for you.” You say as he passes you the pizza boxes. 

“Thank you,” he says taking one of the boxes and going back to his spot on the sofa. You get up to the kitchen.

“Want a drink?” You ask. 

“Waters fine.” You nod even though he can’t see you. You head back to the couch with the drinks. He smiles at you when you place his drink down on the coffee table. You sit there in silence demolishing your pizza then sipping on your wine till your head starts to clear. You’re not really paying attention to what’s playing on the TV, your mind is preoccupied with the fact Simon is sat in your flat with you eating pizza. Any other situation and this could be classed as a date. The only thing missing is the cuddling and the cheesy chick-flick.

“What made you want to do this? Help me out?” You ask looking over at him. He pauses for a second like he’s thinking of what to say. 

“I don’t like abusers, especially those who don’t know when to stop.” He says turning back to the TV. Okay that’s something you have to be careful about your next questions. 

“What made you want to join the military?” You ask, that seems like a pretty easy question. 

“To do some good.” He says, you’re not sure if that’s the whole reason but hey you’re talking, he’s not shutting you down. 

“Where are you from? You’re not from London.” You say sipping your wine. 

“Manchester. Ever been?” He asks looking at you. 

“No, the furthest north I’ve been is Birmingham.” 

“That’s unfortunate.” He says, you see a little smile on his lips. 

“What about you? You lived in London all your life?” He asks. 

“Yeah, Sutton, till I moved here.” You say.

“It’s a nice place.” He says looking round the flat, it’s dark now only the TV to light up the place.

“I’m thinking of moving, when I can afford another deposit.” You say looking down at your glass of wine. 

“Why?” he asks. 

“You know, fresh start, away from-” You stop yourself drinking the last of your wine and getting up. You pick up the empty pizza boxes. Taking them into the kitchen. You don’t even hear Simon getting up off the sofa you just accidentally back into him. You can feel his chest up against your back, it’s warm, strong, you almost want him to wrap his arms around you. His hands end up on your shoulders and your breath catches in your throat.

“I’ll make sure you’re not afraid to live in your own flat. I promise.” He says, his voice low, his grip on your shoulders soft, but firm. You feel heat rushing to your cheeks, you don’t want to move there’s that feeling again the craving of physical contact. You feel safe when he’s around like you’d trust him with your life. You let out a breath as he moves his hands from your shoulders and steps back. You feel cold suddenly, a shiver runs down your spine. You turn to look at him, you meet his eye line, his eyes are soft almost glazed over as he looks at you.

“Simon, why are you helping me?” You ask again, maybe he’ll give you a different answer. His hand reaches up slowly and you almost flinch, holding your breath as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. His eyes scan your face. 

“Did he ever, hit you?” He asks quietly. You nod, not being able to bring yourself to speak. His thumb brushes your cheek. 

“Choke you?” He asks, his hand resting on your chin. You swallow hard your throat feeling suddenly constricted. 

“You don’t have to answer.” He says. You force yourself to nod. 

“You said he came back after you kicked him out. He got a key and let himself in.” He says. You nod. 

“What happened?” He says gently holding your chin so you can’t look down. You open your mouth but words don’t come out. He lets go of your chin taking a step away to give you some space. Maybe this is what you need to do, to get this off your chest. Will it make you feel better? Maybe? But Simon’s giving you the opportunity to talk. You look down at your hands, forcing yourself to hold back the tears swallowing the lump in your throat. 

“He tried to kill me.” You say finally. It doesn’t feel like a weight off your shoulders, it feels like a punch to the gut. The guilt comes next. Why didn’t you report him? Why didn’t you get a restraining order? Why did you let it happen? You feel sick, your head spinning. You look back up at Simon, there is something different in his expression now. Does he understand? Does he even care? This morning you thought he hated you, now he’s in your flat, he’s not the same Simon you met a few days ago who would barely give you the time of day.

He’s here because you called him for help. He put’s a foot forward almost like he’s trying to test if he can step closer to you. You keep still and he takes that as permission to step to you. His hand cups your face in his warm hands and you look up at him. 

“I'm doing this because you don’t deserve it, that’s why I’m helping you. The torment, the guilt, the sleepless nights. I can’t make it go away but I can try and help.” He says. A tear rolls down your cheek, he brushes it away with his thumb. 

“You sound like you know what it’s like.” You say, trying not to let your voice break. 

“I do,” He sighs, his hands dropping from your face. He turns walking back to the sofa. 

“You should take the bed, you’re bigger it’ll be more comfortable.” You say, you don’t mind sleeping on the sofa at least you’ll fit. 

“Don’t be silly this is your place, your bed.” He says sitting back down on the sofa. You walk into the bedroom brushing away the rest of the tears that managed to escape as you dig through the wardrobe for blankets and pillows. You take them back out to him and place them on the sofa. You don’t know what to say, he’s sat watching the TV, you feel tired, drained. 

“You should get some rest.” He says without looking at you. You nod, turning to head back into the bedroom. 

“If you need anything, just let me know.” You say before you go through the door closing it behind you. You let out a breath, maybe this was healing? You just don’t know it yet. You change into your PJ’s and climb into bed. You can see the moonlight peaking through the blinds lighting up the room. Simon knows what it’s like. Maybe you should have asked him about ex’s. Or maybe it wasn’t his ex. You remember the way he reacted when you asked about his family. You wonder if he still talks to them.

You turn over in the bed looking at the door. It feels weird knowing he’s on the other side. Maybe you should crack the door open, it might make you feel better. You want to feel his hands on you again, squeezing your shoulder or touching your face. He’s gentle, not want you were expecting. You let out a breath and swing your feet out the bed before your brain has really even comprehended what you’re doing. This is a bad idea. He’s a work colleague, this could ruin everything. 

“Simon.” You say as soon as you open the door. He turns to look at you. 

“Will you come lay with me?” You’ve done it now, your cheeks flood with heat as you wait for a laugh, a scoff, him to straight up tell you no.

“You want me to lay with you, in your bed?” He asks sitting forward. You nod, then immediately start regretting it.

“Forget it, it doesn’t matter I’m sorry-”

“It’s okay, I will.” He says stopping you in your tracks and standing up. You stare at him as he turns the TV off walking over to you. You watch as he pulls his boots off leaving them by the front door. 

“If it’s what you want.” He says meeting your eye line. You nod, your heart thumping in your chest. You walk back into the bedroom, and he follows.

“You want me under or on top of the covers?” He asks. You hadn’t even thought about it.

“On top.” He says watching your hesitation. He waits until you get into bed and are comfy before he sits on the other side. You lie down watching him, he’s slow as he swings his legs over almost like he’s trying not to spook you. It doesn’t feel weird. You thought it would having another man in your bed.

It was more weird seeing him in your living room for the first time then right now. Maybe you’re just used to him. Maybe you really do trust him. Maybe you judged him too harshly. He turns on his side looking at you. You move your arm  out from under the covers, you want to touch him, maybe he wouldn’t like that though. You place it down instead. 

“Do you get nightmares?” You ask. 

“All the time.” He replies.

“About your time as a soldier?” 

“And other things.” He says. You sigh. 

“Tell me about how you met Price, and Johnny and Kyle.” You see a smile form on his lips. 

“On one condition.” He says shuffling his body down so his head is level with yours. 

“What?” you ask.

“Promise me no nightmares tonight.” You chuckle. 

“I can’t control that.” 

“Promise.” He says raising an eyebrow. 

“Okay I promise.” You say sighing, even though it’s completely out of your control. His hand moves back up to your face brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“I’ll leave when you fall asleep.” He promises. You try to argue with him telling him the bed is comfier then the sofa but he won’t have it. You relent feeling tired, you try to clear your mind and not think about anything just listen to Simon talk about how he met everyone. His voice is calming, his presence puts you at ease. You wish he could stay. You don’t remember falling asleep but that night you dream about him. Good dreams, you’re on a date. Christ you’re falling for him.

—————————— 

You wake to the sun peaking through the bedroom blinds. Simon is not in the room anymore. You slip out of bed and head into the living room. He’s already awake sat at the kitchen table, flicking through a tablet. 

“Morning,” You say walking over to him. 

“Morning,” he replies turning the tablet off. 

“How long have you been awake?” You ask clicking the kettle on. 

“An hour or so.” He says, rubbing his neck.

“I told you you should have taken the bed.” You say taking out two mugs. “Tea?” 

“Please, one sugar.” He says. You think back to last night him lying in the bed with you. You could have swore you felt his hands touching you, brushing your cheek, your hair. Maybe that was just part of the dream. It was a good dream. The best dream you’ve had in months. This is the first time in years you felt safe in your own flat. The click of the kettle snaps you back to reality and you pour the tea’s bringing them over to the table. 

“What were you looking at?” You ask gesturing at the tablet.

“Today's jobs.” Oh shit work! Your head snaps round looking at the clock on the wall it’s all ready 10am. 

“Shit!” You say pushing your chair back. Simon grabs your wrist, you panic. He imminently lets go when your head snaps back to him wide eyed. 

“I called Price, told him we were taking the morning off.” You take a breath in and sit back down, sipping your tea to calm your nerves. He watches you like he’s trying to see how you’re going to react. You smile at him, letting him know you’re okay.

He picks up his mug taking a sip. You’re about to ask him what he want’s to do this morning when there is a crash in the living room. It’s so loud it makes you shriek. Your body snaps round in the chair as you look at the shattered glass now all over the living room. You go to stand up.

“Stay there.” Simon says his hand on your shoulder pushing you back down as he heads over to the balcony door. He goes out looking over the balcony up and down. Leaning round the corners. You guess he doesn't see anything, you can’t think all you can feel is your heart rapidly beating in your chest. He comes back in closing the door and walks round the flat looking for something till he finds it. He picks it up it’s a brick with a letter tied to it. He takes the letter off the brick and opens it, something falls out on the floor and he picks it up. You’re holding your breath, as Simon walks back over to you. It looks like he’s looking through a stack of photos. He places them on the table.

“Well now we have proof.” He says standing next to you as you fan the photo’s out. It’s pictures of you, from yesterday, a few days ago, when you went shopping on Sunday. There are even pictures of you inside your flat. Your head snaps to the window trying to even see where he could have even snapped them from. Panic builds inside you as you continue to look over the photos. Is this a threat? What does this mean? You look up at Simon who’s reading the letter that came with the photos. 

“What does it say?” You ask him, but you really don’t know if you want to know. 

“Let’s just say he’s not happy.” Simon says looking down at you. You didn’t even realise you are gripping his shirt. Maybe this plan was a bad idea.

Next

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[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 39

Geralt is standing above the unconscious bloodied body of his beloved, Jaskier. The mage Geralt was tracking down to kill had meant to blast Geralt, but Jaskier had tackled the mage and things got ugly. The mage chuckles, eerily, and prowls closer. "So the mighty witcher has a weakness after all. Perhaps it'd be best if I do let you both live. Eternal sorrow is far more delicious than a passing trifle." And Geralt falls unconscious. He relives his entire life through flashes of memories, though they're all cruel and wrong. Things happen differently, skewed and twisted. The first time he meets Jaskier, he punches him in the stomach. Jaskier is standing beside him, near a body of water, as Geralt insults his voice. His passion, his livelihood, his reason for living. Jaskier standing outside awkwardly as Geralt fucks Yennefer. Geralt can see him in his peripheral, and yet he doesn't stop, nor even have the decency to pull the curtains, he just continues. Soon enough, the blur of colors at the edge of his vision disappears as Jaskier runs into the distance. Geralt however thinks that the worst memories are the quick three-second flashes of him just endlessly needlessly insulting Jaskier throughout their decades of companionship. It's not banter, it's not teasing, it's just abuse. Then Geralt is suddenly on a mountain, and he's yelling at Jaskier. "If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands!" ... Nevermind. This is the worst one. Geralt is sick to his stomach. Jaskier's eyes widen, and begin to tear up. His face pales of blood, he looks like he's about to faint. His lip even quivers, the way it does when he's well and truly devastated. And Geralt did that to him. "Right.. Uh.. I'll get the rest of the story from the others. I'll see you around Geralt." But then he wakes up in Yennefer's hut. "Where's Jaskier?" he asks immediately. "That bard you hated? The one that followed you around for a few years? I don't know. It's been years since you've even thought about that wretch." He explains that this is wrong. That he loves Jaskier. He adores him. And she tuts sympathetically before explaining that it was a spell the mage put him under. Fake memories of a life where he paired up with the bard. She mimes gagging at the sentiment and he feels hot with anger. As if Jaskier is such a bad choice of romantic partner. He storms out of her place and races off to find his bard. He needs to know for sure what their standing is, and even if he has been cruel, he can at least apologize to the poor bard. "I don't know what to do, Yenna!" A bandaged Jaskier shrieked as the afformentioned witch examined Geralt for the fourth time that hour. Geralt lay comatose in her guest bed, under some sort of spell. Every once in a while, Geralt frowns or winces in his sleep, but that's all they can get from him. "He hasn't woken up since we were fighting the mage." She has a feeling she knows what sort of spell it is. A very cruel trick to play. The mage was smart enough to trust Geralt's self-flagellation. That upon waking from a fake world he perceived as real where all he did was harm Jaskier, he'd most certainly distance himself from the real Jaskier in fear of becoming the version of him in the curse. The mage was dumb enough however, to not think of how far Jaskier would go to save his beloved.

[kasagia]

Lovers to strangers

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x fem!Lantsov princess! reader Summary: The worst thing that can happen is to go from a passionate, ardent feeling to cold indifference. Turning the people you held dearest into strangers. But could YOUR Aleksander ever be a stranger to you again? You have to choose what is more important to you. Ravka and the crown that is rightfully yours, or the man who trampled on your naive, young heart. The choice should be simple... right? Word Count: 8.9k Inspired by: Chance Peña - Lovers to strangers Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @il0vebeingdelulu @chelseyyouraverageluigi ~•♤♤♤•~ Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist

The evenings at the Little Palace were your favourites.

Especially since, from the window of Aleksander's chambers, you had no view of the Grand Palace—your golden cage.

Princess of Ravka. A prisoner in her own country. Well... at least there was one place in the capital where you didn't feel like you were locked in.

Or rather, a bed...

"I can hear your toughts…" the man cuddling up to you mumbles into your collarbone. You can't help but giggle at the feeling of his soft lips brushing against your skin. The feeling of his rough beard gives you pleasant shivers.

"I thought Grisha couldn't read in minds… unless you have another special ability of which I don't know, my general." you say teasingly, stroking his hair.

You can't help but touch this dangerous man. Something has drawn you to him since the first day you came back to Os Alta after Nikolai's disappearance. And as you managed to get a taste of this incredible man, you wanted more and more.

"I have many things that you don't know yet, moya tsarevna. I am a danger. I will break your heart if you trust me so blindly."

"Saints, I love when you speak old Ravkan." you say, leaning in to kiss him again. "Besides, you can't break something that doesn't exist."

It doesn't take long for him to kiss you back. His hand is immediately on your check as he pushes you back on the pillows. He hoovers above you, his lips (far from being gently) moving against yours as his tongue is slipping into your mouth like a snake. He conquers you in every sense of the word.

"Aleksander..." you moan, brushing against him.

"Your grace." he says teasingly, and then completely moves away from you. You look at him furious and offended as the frustration grows inside you. "My little brat. She always has to have what she wants, right?"

"You should know better than to challenge me. I am the heir to the throne, your princess."

"If I remember correctly, you have two older brothers." he points out, placing soft kisses on your collarbone. His beard tickles gently, only further amplifying the fluttering butterflies in your stomach.

"If I remember correctly, I have a general of the Second Army as my secret lover. The Darkling. With your shadows by my side and our combined intelligence and manipulation skills? We are unstoppable."

"Who said I wouldn't betray you? That I wouldn't make myself tsar and take you as my concubine or mistress?" he asks darkly, smiling slyly at you. His pearly teeth gleam menacingly, only making you laugh.

"You won't. You love me too much… Besides…" you lean closer to him and put the dagger to his throat. He laughs a little as he notices that it is the weapon that he had hidden under his pillow. "I'm much more than just a pretty face and royal blood. If you betray me, nothing will stop me from making you my enemy. It works both ways, Aleksander. If you hurt me, I will hurt you back. I won't sit and cry over my fate. I am creating my legacy and future. Not any men."

"I see." he grabs you by your hips and pushes on the headboard of the bed. You moan as he takes the dagger from you and puts it on your throat. "But don't you think this is better? You under me, trembling with desire." he whispers seductively into your ear. And you almost surrender to his touch and the seductive tone of his voice. Almost...

"You don't want an obedient toy. You want an equal. Only I can be one." you say confidently as you two stare into each other's eyes. You both breathe fast and heavily. You reach your hand towards his and put it on the tip of the dagger. "You wouldn't drag me to your bed if you didn't see it. You despise my family, just as I do, and Ravkans, but here you are: in bed with the princess of Ravka. And we both know that is not all about power, connections, or being part of a greater plan, is it?"

He looks at you deeply, watching your every little reaction as he leans towards you. His shadows play around; a few of them are climbing onto the bed and gently brushing against you two. You tremble with pleasure as you feel them on your hot skin. You moan, pressing yourself against him. You feel the coldness of the metal against your skin, and a little drop of blood slowly falls down on your chest.

He throws the dagger away and uses his tongue to lick the trace of blood on your skin. He sucks up the little wound he made a few seconds ago. You see the shadows getting around you as he loses himself in you.

"You're mine, Aleksander." you whisper into his ear. "And we are all we need anyway. Only I am able to see and embrace the darkness within you." you feel his moan at your words before you hear it. You tremble at his reaction.

"You will regret that, Y/N." he warns, or rather anticipates. You see the sincerity and concern in his eyes as they talk about how you will inevitably abandon him.

"Maybe. But not now." you gasp and pull him to you as you two kiss greedily. His hand goes to your waist, pressing you closer to him. You shiver as you feel the cold metal of his claw ring against your skin. "Sasha..."

"Say it again." he demands. His dark eyes glow against the shadows swirling around you. You lift your hand to caress his cheek softly and tenderly. Your fingertips brush against his chin as you slowly slide your hand down to his neck to trace the hickeys you've already given him.

"Sasha..." you moan as his lips brush against your jaw to tease your neck with their softness and warmth.

"Again." another silent command as the shadows begin to surround you more and more.

"Sasha... moi souveryni... moi ottenok (my shadow)." he silences you with a hard, demanding kiss, tangling his large hand in the back of your head and positioning you to suit his needs as he deepens the kiss, searching for your tongue.

Yes... the darkness of his chambers was definitely your favourite place on earth.

"Are you mad?” you huff, glaring at your elder brother.

You sit in your deceased father's chambers, discussing Ravka's fate in whispers among the nobility. Your eldest brother, Vasily, is chatting with some of the nobles, hoping that he will gain their sympathy as he is going to take the throne after your father. Little did he know that you two had other plans for Ravka.

"What? Do you have a better idea? Mother is going crazy, Vasily wants to play king, and the Grishas are about to start a civil war on us. There's no other way."

"I didn't become a widow just to fawn over some man again. Especially not over him. Besides, isn't he having eyes only on that Sun Summoner of yours?" you ask, nodding towards Alina, who is forced (as Vasily's fiancée) to stand by his side and listen to all the nonsense the nobles say.

"I'm not telling you to marry him... well, at least that's not what plan A is. Just approach him. Find out what he wants and whether he's willing to make arrangements with us. After all, you used to talk often. Especially at night in his chambers."

"Nikolai Lantsov, our father is lying dead in a coffin and you dare to remind me who I visited at night and who I didn't?"

"Please, as if you ever cared about that disgusting pig, who unfortunately for us was our father. Besides, you'd be curious too if I suddenly broke up with the love of my life and let our father sell me into marriage with Shu. Which was very surprising for all of us. You loved Kirigan. I know you did. And he felt the same." you roll your eyes at him, wondering where the bastard got this information since he wasn't in the palace at that time.

"And now I hate him. No. That's too much to say. I don't know him. I don't care about him. He's a stranger for whom I feel absolutely nothing. A traitor to the nation and the crown." you say, not hiding the anger in your voice.

"Don't say that as if we weren't called like that by our countrymen and subjects. But since you don't feel anything towards him, then I guess you won't be offended if I tell you that I solemnly invited him to negotiations regarding a possible settlement and peace?"

"What?! What did you… He agreed?" you ask him, shocked and annoyed that, after dropping such a bomb on you, he doesn't even dare look you in the eyes.

"Yes. As a sign of good will, we exchanged prisoners. I gave him back the Grishas he wanted, except for Genya, of course; it took the three of us a very long time to clear her name and guilt about killing our father. It would be too suspicious if we let her go so... easily." he nodded towards Alina, who was giving you a desperate look and asking for help. She was on the other side of the room with Vasily, who desperately tried to... get closer to her. "Sorry, I have to play hero. I just wanted to let you know that he agreed. He's coming tomorrow, right after the funeral." he says, and he approaches Alina to save her from the company of your brother and the nobility... and in the process, he saves himself from your wrath.

You shift your gaze from him to your hands and nervously start picking at your nails. You haven't seen HIM since you left Ravka to marry the Prince of Shu Han. When he treated you so vilely, putting the Sun Summoner on his pedestal, he forgot about you.

And you promised yourself a long time ago that you wouldn't let anyone neglect, humiliate, or disregard you. Especially to someone who isn't worth it. Who chose to ignore you when he meant the world to you.

That's why you decided to do the same as him and slightly modify your plans. Unfortunately, your husband turned out to be an idiot who did not meet your expectations and would only interfere with your grand plan. It's fortunate that he died.

"My princess." Genya's voice breaks you out of your thoughts. You shift your gaze to the woman in the red kefta. "Can I ask you for a minute of your time?"

"Of course." you say, leaving the room with the redhead. "Any news from David?" you ask as the two of you walk down the hall.

The nobles who pass you throw unfavourable glances at Grisha next to you, but you don't pay them any attention, or if you do, you give them a look that makes them look away from you.

"It's as if… he wrote that they were leaving their hideout and heading towards the palace." she speaks so quietly that only you can hear her.

Many things have changed since the Darkling's small, and fortunately unsuccessful, show of strength. The Grisha divided; most of them followed their general, wanting to finally gain some rights for themselves, and some of them stayed on the side of Alina and the crown.

So you had to return to the country quite quickly and strengthen the contacts with your spies. Your late husband's family was quite reluctant to let you go. Especially his younger brother, who was the only heir to the crown after his death... you could say that you and Niklaus started getting along much better after your husband's death.

Genya was a new addition. You had a pretty close relationship even before hell broke out in Ravka. You trusted her... within reason. And you were grateful to fate that she didn't join Alina. You didn't like the Sun Summoner... and it's very possible that private grudges played a large part in your dislike of her.

"How many of them?" you ask as you enter your office. The guards give you a curt bow and close the door behind you.

"Not enough for him to think about any plans of attack. But you can never be sure. I heard he acquired a new skill. He creates monsters from shadows. The nichevo'ya or something like that."

"He must be stupid to attack the palace now. We'll deal with his new skills later. For now, we need to locate Baghra. Where is she being held? Is she being held at all, and if not, where is she hiding? This old hag is the key to all of this. We can't do anything without her; we know as much as five-year-olds about the fold, amplifiers, and merzost." you say, flipping through the pages on your desk.

"Alina and Mal are working on locating another amplifier. They're scheduled to leave soon."

"Impossible. They're not going anywhere. I will not risk the lives of our only Sun Summoner and Compass to Morozova's amplifiers. The Darkling is heading this way; his men and spies may be anywhere, and recently, the number of Fjerdan provocations on our border has tripled."

"They won't stay locked up here."

"I am aware of this. But they won't move from here in the next two weeks. Our priority is peace with either the Darkling or the Fjerdan. We cannot wage two wars at once—civil and with another country. It's best if there's none, but I guess it is not possible. We have shed too much blood in the fold itself; we need to end this centuries-old conflict and not escalate it, because Ravka won't take any longer what is happening here."

"About that… I doubt that General… Darkling will be willing to compromise." you sigh, knowing full well that she could probably be right.

"Then we'll have to remove him from the picture." you say slowly, wondering if you were really ready for this.

"You mean..."

"I do not know yet." you interrupt her, not quite sure what you're going to do. And even if you knew, you had no intention of revealing such plans to anyone. "It depends on what the situation requires of us. Alina is too young to be a general. She may be a symbol of hope and a new, better future, but she is not fit to lead an entire army. And the Darkling… is unpredictable and out of any control."

"You miss him, don't you?" her question slightly catches you off guard.

You tried your hardest not to think... about him. Or what could have been if things between you went differently. You simply couldn't afford it. You had to be strong for Ravka, your subjects, and your brothers. And thinking about Aleksander certainly wouldn't make your situation any better.

"I… I think I miss the idea of him that I created in my mind. I miss the man I thought I knew. But in the end, he turned out to be like… just like anyone else."

"Like all powerful men." she sums up your statement, staring at the window behind you.

"Exactly." you nod, thinking about what she must have gone through under your father. That's why, whoever would take the throne, you promised yourself that you would make sure that there would be a whole new era for Ravka. "Genya." you call after her before she leaves your office.

"Yes, my princess?"

"Make sure you make time for David. After this hell… you two deserve the best." you give her a small smile before sending her away. You sigh, rubbing your hand over your forehead. There were so many things to plan and very little time.

But you can't help but think about Aleksander. There were rumours that the fold had destroyed it. That he had become crazy, ruthless, and devoid of any empathy or conscience.

Your hands involuntarily move to the cabinet and open it. You take the bracelet he gave you into your hands. Now you know that it had a special, rare piece of metal in it that allowed Durast to locate you from miles away—an ability Darkling must have used many times in the past. You made sure it was deleted, but... sentiment didn't let you throw it away. You don't know why. Or at least you don't want to admit to yourself this little weakness from the past.

"Why do you want to rule Ravka?" you frown at his question. You open your eyes and turn to the side to look at his face.

You took a little trip outside the palace. You were lying in a clearing in the forest on a picnic blanket. Your head was resting on Aleksander's stomach. One of his hands was lazily running through your hair, and the other was playing with your own hand.

"Why not? I would look nice on stamps and coins." you laugh carelessly, playing with his fingers.

"Answer the question." he says seriously, sitting up. Your head rests on his lap as he leans over you and looks at you with those piercing eyes of his, analysing your every little reaction.

"I don't want Ravka to look like it does now. Vasily is... like our father, conservative, without any new ideas, wanting to continue repeating established patterns. And Nikolai... is too controversial. He has revolutionary views, and the rule of both will end in a civil war. I don't want us to shed any more blood. Grisha and Ravkan... we are one. We are the same. Only you live a little longer and have additional benefits from your powers, but... it doesn't change the fact that we are born and die the same way. We believe in the same thing, and we want the same thing."

"Which is?" he asks, whispering, his dark eyes trained on you the entire time.

"Peace." you say, leaning back into him and closing your eyes. Sunlight filters through the treetops, illuminating your face. You sigh, wrapped in the warmth of your beloved Aleksander's arms and his scent. "Love." you add, opening your eyes and giving him a small, uncertain smile.

"You want to be loved?" he asks, disbelieving that someone like you, the daughter of the Lantsov family, could only want something so... simple. You always talked about taking power with ambition and fire in your eyes. He never thought that you didn't want it out of pure greed, but simply out of a desire to make Ravka better. Just like him.

"Everyone wants it. Even you, my mighty and scary shadow summoner." you snap him out of his thoughts by lifting your hand and caressing his bearded cheek. "And trust me when I say that I can give you all of the love of this world that you need."

"You don't know everything about me." he denies, knowing full well that you would run away from him, terrified, and that all your love for him would evaporate the moment you found out he was the Black Heret.

"You don't know everything about me either, sweetheart. I see your darkness. I see your struggles. You won't scare me away. You cannot. No amount of your shadows and the darkness of the past will do that." you promise, and he looks at you in shock. You push yourself up on your elbows and kiss him sweetly and lazily.

You act as if you have all the time in the world, and the only thing that matters is the two of you. And he allows himself to lose himself for a moment in this little fantasy you created with him in a forgotten clearing near the fountain dedicated to the Starless Saint.

"Eya fyela chi, moya tsarevna. For as long as I breathe. We shall rule together. Side by side." he whispers against your lips, and he's no longer sure who he's trying to fool. You or himself.

"I want nothing more, Aleksander." you reply, straddling him and cupping his neck as you pull him in for another kiss.

And he realises a very sad and bitter truth. That never before, in anyone else's arms, under anyone else's touches, kisses, and whispers of love and adoration, had he felt so happy and at peace as he did with you.

"Wow. Did Genya help you?" you snort at your brother's reaction as you enter the council room.

"What? Can't I dress nicely myself?" you mock him gently, laughing. You could slightly improve your appearance with the help of your favourite Grisha. After all, you had to show yourself to your ex somehow. And you were going to make sure the bastard would squirm, upset and mad that he wasn't with you anymore.

"Yes, you can, but you usually don't. Is this for a certain dark rebel general?" he teases with you, at which you roll your eyes.

"NO. And I wish you wouldn't insinuate such things. I'm not saying you're dressing up for the Sun Summoner or for that squaller of hers who's arguing with her all the time. Exactly! Who are you ultimately in love with? I haven't been able to keep up with the updates lately. You know. Saving my country from the fire of rebellion, and so on."

"You know what... I was going to wait here with you to spare you a one-on-one confrontation with our very peaceful and cute Darkling... BUT I remembered that Alina was waiting for me. Will you entertain your ex until we get here? Thanks, sister." he winks at you, smiling when he sees your expression fall, and he heads towards the exit, humming.

"Son of a bitch." you mutter under your breath as he walks past you.

"Yes, indeed!" he replies with an even bigger smile. You can only laugh and shake your head at him as he leaves you alone in the room.

You pace around the room, nervously picking at the bracelet on your wrist.

This was supposed to be the first time you would see him since you left for Shu Han and married their prince there. You heard that he changed after the events in the fold. That he went crazy about Alina and became obsessed with HIS Sun Summoner. His lust for power and greed only increased his dark madness, which made even his most trusted Grisha fear.

You heard rumours that he always had shadow monsters by his side and that he received a souvenir from his volcras in the form of black scars marring his face. Though you're not sure if anything can disfigure him.

Somehow, you feel him approaching. Before he touches the door handle, you know he's behind it. You lean against the table with Ravka's map on it and wait. Your heart beats rapidly as the silence of the room is broken by the sound of the door opening.

He doesn't come in right away. He freezes the moment he sees you. You take in his new appearance carefully, less surprised to see him than he is to see you. He has a few black scars on his face, his complexion is sallower, and his eyes are cloudy, probably from lack of sleep.

"Kirigan." you say, as he still doesn't make any moves towards you. The sound of your voice wakes him from his trance. He closes the door behind him, letting in a single shadow creature that follows silently behind him. You only stare at it for a moment before your gaze returns to his dark irises, which have been staring at you continuously since he opened the door.

"Princess." he watches you carefully, as if looking for any flaw—the slightest shake in your stoic and unflappable demeanour. Something that would prove to him that you're not better off without him. "I've heard about your husband's death. My sincere condolences." he says it in the most insincere tone you've ever heard.

"Thank you. It is very hard. He was such a good husband. Possibly the best I could come across." you say, smiling sadly, which only angers him more.

You see him press his lips into a thin line. His dark eyes never leave you, as he takes in every new detail in your appearance. His shadow monsters stand obediently behind him.

"Is this necessary?" you ask, nodding towards the shadow creature.

"Does it scare you? My Nichevo'ya are always with me." he says, as if to challenge you.

"No. Not at all. But now I don't wonder why no one else is besides it." your snide remark clearly hurts his pride. He takes a breath to respond, but the door opens again, and this time Alina and Nikolai join you.

"Aleksander." Sun Summoner greets him, and you roll your eyes. Of course he would tell her his real name. After all, it was his solnishka.

"Alina." he nods at her, taking his eyes off you. Because how could you compare to his sunshine?

"Nikolai. Welcome everyone. I guess we can start." Nikolai interjects jokingly, trying to break the obvious tension in the room. And by the way the three of you look at each other, you already know that this isn't going to be an easy negotiation at all.

"Egs." The man next to you hands you what you want. "Flour." He pours it in for you, which you let him do, considering that there wasn't a single bag in the Little Palace's kitchen and you were both too lazy to look for a bowl to measure it out with. Besides, you know it would end just like last time—a big war that the servants would have to clean up later. "Sugar." He hands you a clay jar, and you taste some of it before pouring it into the dough. You wince when you taste the salt, at which he laughs loudly. "Aleksander! What did I tell you last time?! I'm making you a birthday cake; you could at least not try to sabotage me." You roll your eyes at him and reach for the sugar yourself.

"I told you it wasn't necessary. There are other activities we could engage in." He murmurs against your ear, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"If you had told me earlier, and not after the amazing sex, calling it the best birthday present you ever received, then we could. Now take your hands off me and help me mix the dough."

"But it's my birthday… shouldn't I be the one giving you orders?" He asks, giving you puppy-dog eyes. You break your facade and lean in, kissing him sweetly, only to pull away from him the moment his hands touch the hem of one his shirts he gave you to wear.

"Maybe next year. Now you better figure out how we can fit 200 candles in here for you." You pat his chest and try not to bite your lip as he rolls up the sleeves of his shirt and starts mixing the dough. You watch him uninhibitedly, though, and the way the muscles in his arms move.

"Actually, a little more."

"How many?" You ask curiously, taking a sip of wine from his glass since yours is long gone.

"531." You choke on your alcohol, and he laughs, wiping the rest of the cake off his hands and patting you gently on the back.

"Saints, I'm sleeping with a fossil."

"Just half an hour ago, you were doing it very enthusiastically, I must say."He whispers seductively, pressing a kiss on your temple as you transfer the dough to the baking tin.

"Oh, shut up." you say, trying to resist him somehow, but you both know how it will end soon. "Because someone will come in here and see us."

With a wave of his hand, a thick layer of shadows appears around the door. The palace kitchen is immersed in a gentle darkness; the only source of light is the fire from the stove where the cake is baked and the window.

"We have a while before it's ready... can I play with my present again?" he asks, picking you up and sitting on the table, getting between your legs.

"Do not say that. It's creepy." you say, pushing his hands away from the ties of the shirt you're wearing. He's not at all put off and instead attacks your neck with kisses.

"It's my birthday; you told me I could do anything with you, moya tsarevna." He reminds you, biting lightly on the skin of your neck and making you moan.

You tangle your hands in his hair and push him away from you. The disgruntled frown on his face reminds you of the face of a grumpy child, but you can't laugh now since you're trying to regain control of yourself.

"Within reason... so don't think you can seduce me with your old Ravkan, touch, or kisses. We are not doing that here." you state firmly, but he doesn't give up.

"But lapushka, you are the only dessert I want, milaya. Moi sol ye tselai. Zyoma maya olya. Eya chela (I'm hungry) for you. Eya fyela chi, don't you love me too, moya koroleva?" He whispers against your skin as he places kisses all over your face, his beard tickling you again, making you go completely soft for him the moment his lips capture yours in a hot, deep kiss that takes your breath away.

And neither of you are surprised that you almost set the kitchen of the Little Palace on fire, completely forgetting about the cake.

"I want my summoner back." you huff at his absurd demand, at which he frowns at you furiously.

"You have no right to her."

"She had trained under my and Baghr's gaze. She owes me. Her service will be enough payment."

"She is the bride of Ravka and the fiancée of one of my brothers." you continue firmly, not allowing anyone else to speak up and ignoring Alina's annoyed look at you.

"One of them?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Is there a problem?" you growl in anger. He shifts in his seat; the strange creature is hovering next to him like a faithful dog, reacting to his every slightest movement. The son of a bitch tried to intimidate you.

"Not at all. It's good to know who I should get out of my way."

"If you mean what I think..." you start threateningly, completely ignoring his shadow monster.

"It would be very hard for her to be the bride of Ravka without a groom." he finishes his thought, smirking ominously at you when he sees your furious reaction.

"Oh, not at all. I would also be able to marry her." you tell him, and he glares at you madly. You hear this strange thing growling at his side. Apparently, it must have felt and shared his emotions.

"While being already mine? I doubt so."

"I belong to no one, and she belongs to Ravka!" you shout, standing up and slamming your hand on the table.

"She belongs to Grisha!" he stands up as well, banging his fist on the table. You both lean over the table on opposite sides, looking at each other hatefully. Shadows gather around him, behind his back.

"She is a person! And can speak out for herself. Thank you two very much. You know it, right? Saints, you two are perfect for each other." Nikolai interrupts the two of you before you two start a fight. He rubs his eyes with his hand and looks at the clock. "Gene… ekhem… Lord… um… Mister Kirigan. I think it would be better for all of us if we went to sleep. You and your people had a long way here; I'm sure you would use some sleep and the comfort of a bath." you'd laugh at your brother's awkwardness if your ex didn't get on your nerves like a damn master.

The Darkling sighs, nodding. He stands up, brushing invisible dust from his all-black kefta.

"I guess my chambers are still where they were?" he asks, heading towards the door, and you just can't help but stab him in the back at goodnight.

"You are not allowed to walk inside the Little Palace." you say stoically. Aleksander stops. Nikolai and Alina look at you as if you were a madwoman, suicidal.

"What?" he asks, turning towards you to glare daggers at you.

"That's not your property. You don't choose where you sleep."

"I built a Little Palace with my own hands when you were not even planning to come to this world!"

"And yet I am the one who has any rights to it. Besides, if you want to play that card, most of the population on this planet wasn't even planning to come to the world, and yet you are not going around and claiming things that don't belong to you. It also didn't stop you from seducing someone much younger than you."

"You… you are walking on very thin ice, princess." he growls at you furiously, getting so close that you're only a few centimetres apart. From this distance, you can get a good look at the black, raw scars on his face.

"I am not afraid." you reply firmly, looking at him defiantly and tilting your chin up. You both breathe heavily. Rage is boiling within you two; you both know it's not just caused by the disagreements over Ravka and Grisha, but something far more personal...

"You should be." he whispers. Your breaths practically mingle...

"If you say: make me, I will throw out my dinner. And I would rather not." you roll your eyes at your brother.

You throw one last hateful glare at Aleksander and walk to the exit. You can't stop yourself from hitting him in his arms with your own. He growled something under his breath, mad, but you don't care to listen.

You leave the room confident that you've won this little battle between the two of you. Little did you know that the real one wouldn't be fought between you until late at night.

"A chauvinistic imbecile who thinks that just because he was born first and has a penis between his legs, he has the right to behave like a future king. Even his stupid horses are smarter than him."

"Don't insult the horses, darling." Aleksander mutters over his papers, looking through the latest reports from under the fold.

He was about to leave for Kirbirsk to supervise the crossing of a new type of boat to the other side of the wall of shadows. You didn't like the prospect of being away from him for such a long time. Especially when your oldest (and probably stupidest) brother tried to convince your parents to marry you to the prince of Shu Han.

"Doesn't it bother you? Seriously? What if he succeeds and you will never see me again?" You ask furiously, crossing your arms and looking at him.

"No way, you're too much of a nuisance for me to get rid of you so easily." He replies jokingly. However, when he finally looks up at you and sees your serious, mad attitude, he throws the papers on the desk and stands up. He walks over to you and cups your cheek with his hand tenderly, which you reluctantly allow, still furious with him. "Even if something like that happens, which I highly doubt, given your manipulative skills, connections, and a large, beautiful mind that many men should fear, I will come for you. Always. Even if I have to fight the volcras, I will always come back for you." He says, placing a tender kiss on your forehead. "You are mine, moya tsarevna. I'm not sharing you with anyone. Especially some pompous, high-born idiot who haunts Girsha like a haunting dog."

'But how long will it last? How long will you be feeling like this? I will die. Much faster than you. I am like a small ink stain in your long-lived book of life." you say, fully aware that you two are a lost cause.

But he doesn't let you think about it for long. He latches onto your lips hungrily, redirecting your thoughts to him and this moment between you. He pins you to the war table and effectively takes over your every little cell as his tongue tangles with yours. He moans softly as you tangle your hands in his hair. He somehow manages to distance himself from you. He rests his forehead against yours, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs.

"You are not a stain. You are my light. Something I have wanted for centuries but could never experience. You saw me... all of me. And you never turned away. You never judged me for who I was or what I did. And I will do everything. Everything in my power to make sure you shine for me as long as possible, moya lapushka."

"So you won't replace me? For someone else? More powerful? Equal to you? You won't change us from lovers to strangers?" you ask as he places small kisses on your cheeks, jaw, neck, and collarbone.

"Never." he whispers against your lips before kissing you again, his fingers finding effortlessly their way to the buttons of your dress, stroking and kissing every little bit of your skin he exposes as a promise.

Which he breaks a few weeks later when he meets Sun Summoner.

You know you shouldn't fall asleep in his chambers when he's back in Os Alta, but you've been doing it since you returned to Ravka.

After your first sleepless night in your chambers, you snuck into the Little Palace and into his chambers. And you hated yourself for how pathetic you were when you fell asleep the moment you wrapped yourself in his black blanket.

At first, you were tormented by memories of the time you spent with him, but as the days and weeks passed, memories of him only haunted you in your dreams. And now it was mostly habit that kept you in the general's chambers. After all, you spent a lot of time here. In fact, most of your happy memories. What a pity that they were just a facade, a web of lies that Aleksander had been weaving since the beginning of your relationship.

You shiver as a sudden chill passes through you. You reluctantly get out of bed and wrap yourself in a blanket. You walk over to the window, making sure it's closed, and close the curtains, plunging the room into complete darkness.

Suddenly, an arm wraps around you, pulling you into a broad chest. Before you can scream, a hand covers your mouth, and when you see the familiar black ring on one of the man's fingers, you go into a fit of pure fury.

You struggle against his grip, screaming into his hand, trying to bite it somehow. The blanket falls off of you, causing his arm to press you tighter against his body. You heat up as you feel yourself perfectly fitting against his body, involuntarily remembering... much more pleasant situations when he pressed you against him.

"Stop it. You'll only get tired. And I want to talk to you like a civilised person, so calm down." He whispers in your ear. His bearded cheek brushes against yours as he moves his hand from your mouth to your neck, squeezing gently as a reminder that if you try anything, he's ready to punish you.

"Calm the fuck down yourself. Since when does a civilised man sneak into a woman's bedroom to talk to her?"

"This isn't your bedroom."

"And this is not your palace." you reply teasingly, and by the way he tightens his grip on you, you know he has a scowl on his face. You smile, pleased that you're able to get under his skin.

"This is debatable. Will you stay still and listen to me, or do I have to hold you like that? Not that I mind, but I'd rather look at your face."

"And I feel disgusted every time I look at you, so I'd rather stay like this."

Not a second passes after you finish your sentence when he turns you around in his arms and pushes you against the large window behind you. You're glad you managed to close the curtains earlier; otherwise, you would have been pressed against the cold glass instead of the soft, velvety fabric by the angry Black Heretic.

And you wonder if you're losing your mind or if you've gained courage if you don't feel an ounce of fear as his shadow monsters circle around you. You can't quite recall how he called them since his dark eyes stared at you with an intense fire, which made you speechless for a while.

"You really have nothing else to tell me?" He asks calmly this time, running his thumb over the base of your neck. As if he were playing with his prey.

However, subconsciously, you know that he won't hurt you. If not for the sake of his feelings towards you, then at least because he's not stupid enough to kill Ravka's princess while he's negotiating... which you actually have no idea why he agreed to.

"Like what?" You finally ask, breaking the silence that had fallen between you. His face falls, you see a hint of disappointment in his eyes, and your eyes involuntarily land on the scars on his forehead, cheek, and nose. And suddenly, you feel a huge need to run your finger over them.

"I don't know... maybe why did you run away? You left and got married to Shu Han dog without saying me anything!"

"I didn't want to interrupt your fun with Alina. Honestly, what did you expect after you found yourself another woman? That I'll stay in some fucking threesome with you and your Sun Summoner?! You're not that good in bed, sweetheart." You mock him and the fact that he had the nerve to call you out on what you did. As if he wasn't the first to break the promises you made to each other in the privacy of his chambers. You were supposed to be partners in crime. It's not your fault that he decided to turn you into strangers.

"You know damn well that she was only a means to an end! The issue here is that you left me! You of all people turned away from me and ran away as if I meant nothing to you!" He shouts madly, slamming his hand on the window behind you in anger. You're surprised it didn't break into pieces under the pressure of his strength.

"Is that why you stuck your tongue in her mouth?! Because she was just a means to an end—a weapon you wanted to use? Besides, when were you going to tell me about widening the fold?!"

"That wasn't a reason for you to run away to another fucking country and marry anyone only to spite me!"

"But it was enough for you to kill him?!" You further question his actions, revealing to him that you know full well on whose orders the poison was poured into your husband's chalice... or that the black scars on his body were not caused by an infection.

"And how else could you be mine again?! Also, don't pretend that you have any morals. We both know that you didn't particularly mourn his death. I had to somehow fix the mistakes you made because of your bratty attitude."

"If you would just be honest with me from the beginning, you fucking distrustful son of a bitch, then there would be nothing to fix!”

"Do you want me to be honest?" He growls furiously, leaning towards you, your noses practically brushing against each other as he keeps his gaze on your eyes. "There wasn't a single damned second that I didn't think about you. Not a single dream without you, tormenting me because I can't have you. Do you know what I was thinking about in the fold when I thought I was going to die? About you. All I could think about was the time we spent together, when I had you in my arms. I do not want anyone else. Alina or any other fucking Sun Summoner. I don't want power; I can't do anything without you by my side anyway. So don't stand here and blame me for ruining our relationship when I love you with all the shattered heart I have left."

"So don't give me reasons to leave." You whisper, tired from all this arguing, as he reinforces your belief that you both suffered without each other and that you got under each other's skin so deeply that it was impossible to stop thinking about each other.

You hold back the tears you promised yourself not to shed because of him. He cups your cheek tenderly in his hand and rests his forehead against yours as you breathe out shakily, trying to maintain your facade in front of him.

"Maybe you should stop running away every time you have doubts about me? Why can't you have some faith in me?" He asks in a shaky voice, making you open your eyes to meet his pleading gaze. It's the first time in your life you've seen him so... defenseless. Open. Vulnerable.

"I have no doubt about you, Aleksander. I know you are capable of anything. That nothing can stand in your way if you really set your mind to it, not even Alina or Baghra. I don't care about Alina, what you wanted to do with her, or if your plans were moral or not. The problem is that you lied to me. You went behind my back."

"And look where it got me. Do you think I'll do it again?" He asks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and pressing a kiss on your forehead.

He rests his lips against your forehead for a while, burying his nose in your hair and inhaling your scent as you both try your best to have a proper conversation and don't melt in each other's arms.

"I don't now. You gave me many reasons not to trust you. Alina's case, destroying the fold, Baghra being your mother. I guess the list goes on and on."

"The last one had reasonable reasons." he says, pulling away from you to look into your eyes.

You can't help but burst out laughing. He smiles and cups your cheek in his hand. The healed scar from the amplifier attracts your attention.

"You removed it. Why? That was your only connection to Alina and her power." You ask confused, realising that the strange connection between them didn't disappear because Alina became stronger but because he completely removed the amplifier from his system.

"The only connection I want to have is with you." He says confidently, taking your hands in his. "Besides... after using Merzost, I became... weaker. Holding this amplifier would cause infection, poison my blood, and ultimately kill me."

"Are you… dying? After the second use of Merzost?"

"Don't worry, moya tsarevna. I have a long enough life ahead of me with you." He says, caressing your cheek. "And after discovering some entries from my grandfather's diary, I know how to extend it for you."

"What if I don't want it? If I don't want you anymore?"

"Then I have nothing to lose. I will do anything to bring Grisha to the throne, to their place above everyone else in this damn country. And I'll make sure you stay by my side. Willingly or not. You always belonged to me. You were supposed to rule with me, side by side. And with the time I will provide you, I am sure you will find in your heart the love for me again. Although I doubt that any of us could lose it in such a short time."

You shiver at his certainty and his dark gaze. However, it is not a thrill of fear but of excitement... and you are not surprised that this was his plan B. If you were him, you would do the same.

You signed a pact with him on the first night you spent together. There was no turning back from then on. You were supposed to be together. As absurd as it may sound. Princess of Ravka and the Black Heretic. Otkazat'sya and Grisha. Monsters on Ravka's throne. But only you would be able to restore balance without causing a civil war.

You might not trust each other, be suspicious of each other, or disagree with the decisions you made, but you knew that you both had Ravka's best interests in mind. No matter who else gets hurt, that was how the word worked: you were either a martyred saint or a selfish sinner. And you weren't going to suffer for the sake of anything else but your country. And Aleksander was fed up with his people suffering for who they were, simply for being.

Together, you could do great things.

"Tomorrow is the reading of my damned father's will. His last will is about to include who he wanted on the throne. We have enough time to…"

"I've already taken care of it. You will be a beautiful, wise and cruel tsaritsa." He cuts you off before you can finish your thought, and you smile. One mind. You've always acted like this... but only if you didn't hide anything from each other.

"I will have competition, with such a tsar at my side." you say, and finally allow yourself to lean in and kiss him. His mouth is a little chapped, but you don't mind when all you can focus on is the warmth that engulfs you in his arms again and the pleasant tingling that spreads from your lips throughout your body as he groans in pleasure. You pull away from him just as he wants to deepen the kiss. You tease him a little, and you reach out to caress the black scars on his face with your fingertips. "If you look at Alina even once, I will gouge out both of your eyes and make sure your little sun never shines again." You whisper, placing small kisses where the scars are most visible.

He doesn't freeze; he doesn't tense up. He just moans quietly at the touch of your lips in the places he hates the most and which you seem to treat with fascination and tenderness.

You were as jealous of him as he was of you. You both would kill anyone who dared to steal the other from you. And you both know it's not the worst thing you are able to do for each other.

"Don't worry… I'll only be able to see you. And how beautiful and breath-taking you will look in the crown and my black colours."

"Black?" you ask, raising an eyebrow at him and pulling away slightly.

"Yes. You're mine. As well as I am yours." he says, picking you up as he walks to your bed.

"I won't wear a kefta. This damn thing is hard to take off," you tell him immediately, at which he laughs, unbuttoning his own.

"We'll see." he replies to you with a mischievous smirk and leans over you, kissing you again.

And later that night, as you lie curled in each other's arms and discuss the plans you have for Ravka in whispers, you know you wouldn't have it any other way. Even if you face more fights and doubts with him. And there is no doubt that you would try to manipulate each other to get what you want—to try and make the other feel guilty just to bring your own plan to life—but neither of you wanted to be left on top of the world utterly alone.

It was too late for you to be strangers to each other again. And since neither of you cared about your reputation, your morals, or who you would become in the eyes of the world, you might as well make them fear you. You will be the most terrifying pair of lovers in history.

And as he fell asleep, you started playing with the ball of light with a small smile on your face, squeezing his hand as an amplifier you needed to strengthen the connection you managed to make with Alina that no one knew about. Well... besides you, only the Durast, who made an engagement ring for the Sun Summoner, knew that you were trying to gain from her the power you needed to be an equal for the sleeping Shadow Summoner wrapped around you.

You would tell him... in time.

First, you had to learn how to use your new powers and make sure the connection between you and Alina would last. However, this required much more drastic measures than putting a collar around her neck or a small ring on her finger.

You press a kiss on his chest and rest your head on his shoulder, snuggling into him. You fall asleep in his arms, wondering how you'll convince him to give you some of his mother's bones... or his own.

After all, Morozova's amplifiers were the strongest.

You will soon see this for yourself when, right after your coronation and marriage, you find out that you were unconsciously carrying one under your heart after this night.

[mathanlin]

Hero AU where school counselor!Phil has to deal with… interesting students.

Namely, the three boys he sees constantly bickering in the hallways.

And slamming cars into each other on the news.

Ridiculously, none of them know who the others are.

But Phil notices the *moment* new young vigilantes start popping up. The trio’s dropping grades, spotty attendance, and injuries only confirm it.

Or, y’know. Tommy mumbling, “What would you do if you were a hero?”

Phil helps in the least obvious ways he can.

Modifying their grades to be a bit less suspicious, leaving out ice packs by his office door (easy to steal), writing late passes without a bit of resistance.

But he can only be so subtle.

“So, Red.”

Tommy’s head jerks up. 

Phil almost laughs. “You’ve heard of him, huh? I figure he’s your favorite.”

Tommy shifts awkwardly in his chair — readjusting the wound Phil knows lies beneath his sweater. “Better than the fuckin’ Blade.”

Techno. Honors student. Flawless GPA. Volunteer. And vigilante.

Far closer to a villain.

“If only I could give the Blade a lecture,” Phil says, unable to stop a chuckle, and barely managing to not say, *You two have to stop beating the shit out of each other.*

Eventually, Phil gives up on subtlety & calls them all down to his office.

“So. I heard you’ve been getting into fights.”

Wilbur, drama kid — or Siren, smooth-tongued — is the first to act, eyes widening. “I’m sorry, sir?”

Then Techno. “Mr. Watson, I would *never.*”

“Then what’s that?”

Phil nods to the bruise beneath Techno’s turtleneck — from a hit Siren landed. Then, to Wilbur’s knuckles, ever so slightly battered.

And neither seem to notice a thing. 

Phil pinches his brow, sighing.

“Alright. Then Tommy. Care to explain the state of your shoes?” (Burnt, melted from running through rubble the Blade had created.)

*There* it is. Techno frowns, leaning back to peek — and Tommy quickly tucks his feet beneath the chair.

“Nothing.”

“Where were you all last night?”

Every single kid tenses. 

And starts rambling out excuses.

“I was— studying, of course—”

“Well, *I* was trying to get ice cream, and that bitch the Blade showed up—”

“Bitch?” Techno cries before catching himself. “I think you mean *Red* and *Siren*—”

“What the fuck?” Wilbur splutters. “Siren was trying to calm those two fuckers down—”

“Boys,” Phil says. “Look. All three of those heroes would be better *together,* right? Not fighting, not hurting each other?”

“Maybe,” Tommy finally mumbles, toeing at the floor, “but… why are we talking about heroes?”

Phil tips back in his chair, face in hands.

“Come on. Someone figure it out.”

Silence. 

Phil groans. “Wilbur, you quit band two months ago. Techno, Tommy, who showed up two months ago?”

More silence.

“Uhh… I don’t know.”

“Techno,” Phil says, almost desperate. “You tutor Tommy, right? What happens after he disappears from your lessons?”

“I… go home,” Techno lies. 

Phil lets out an exasperated sigh. “No, you go where *he* goes. And where’s that?”

Tommy’s eyes start to narrow.

“You like Greek shit. Like… the Blade,” he says quietly, staring at Techno. Then, at Wilbur. “And *you’re* a pretentious bastard. Like *Siren.*”

Phil raises an eyebrow, fighting a smile.

“And you’re a little shit,” Wilbur snaps, then— pales. “Like… Red?”

“*There* we go,” Phil says, letting out a sigh of relief. “Now, I have a plan. If you three work together, I truly believe that—”

It’s a shame Phil’s office is so tiny.

There’s no room for three vigilantes to sufficiently beat the shit out of each other.

.

.

.

Just the idea of the three of them curled up at Phil’s, working on homework before heading off to fight crime (together, for once). 

Phil being their “man in the chair” (even if he directs them to safer areas, too worried for anything more).

And of course, the best (worst?) part of being a school counselor — the actual *counseling.*

Except it’s not about what classes to take, or bullies to avoid.

It’s holding Wilbur as he sobs after killing his first villain to protect his brothers. (Because that’s what they are, now). 

It’s comforting Techno as he fails his first class, too busy with heroics to focus or study. 

It’s reassuring Tommy when his brothers get hurt, always ready to defend their youngest.

And it’s crying like a father when they graduate.

It’s *loving* them like a father, his home always open to them, filled with medical supplies and bedrooms for each kid, newpaper clippings pinned proudly on the fridge.

There’s a reason the city’s strongest trio of vigilantes always protect one specific man.

[saturna625]

You work at the Mystery Shack in Gravity Falls.

It's no big deal, really. I mean, every once in a while, you realize that it's gotta be a front for something. A cult, the illuminati, or the mafia, you weren't really sure.

You weren't paid enough to care, honestly.

But the job was fun enough, and the customers were cool to screw with, and it paid the bills, plus your coworkers were pretty cool.

Your boss was.... an odd man, sure. A good con, a great sense of humor, and a mouth that could make a sailor blush, but you wouldn't say he's evil.

He's got a great nephew and niece, who come up every summer. They're chill, too. Mabel sends you home with at least two new stickers every day. Your binder is getting too full. But you didn't mind, the kid was sweet. You'd find a use for these stickers, later.

Gravity Falls was an odd town, but you didn't really seem to mind that either. A little town, barely even a dot on the state map, hidden behind back roads upon back roads in the great state of Oregon. It had its moments, and it's stories.

You were decently sure the lawn gnome in your garden moved on its own, and your attic was definitely haunted (you regret mentioning that to the kids– you've found that Dipper kid trying to look up where you lived), but it was cheap and homey, and a great place to live after scraping past college.

Then your boss– who was really your boss's brother? Who had taken up his name, when he disappeared, the ultimate con, you actually admired him for that– Stanley, and his twin, the original owner of the Shack, Stanford emerged from behind the vending machine, you knew that you were maybe in a little too deep. Mafia ties, for sure.

Then quite some events happen: ie, the sky splits open, you become a statue for a hot minute, and then... aren't, anymore (dude, the squirrel that you treat as your therapist is gonna go wild when he hears this) and you're back at the Shack.

The building is warmer now. Pointdexter– or Ford, the actual one, is a pretty good man. A little blunt, with not much common sense for the amount of books smarts he has, but good.

If you find anything weird, or out of place, it's his.

If you see him fighting an interdimensional squid, and then you're told there's seviche in the kitchen, you don't question it.

And you take some seviche to go.

The shack is a little louder since Ford's arrival. Stan seems happy. Dipper too. And Mabel, well, she still gives you stickers as you leave your shift.

You're on a walk, something you read that could help with coping, through the woods. The weather is nice today, and for once, it's not raining, and even better, the air is crisp and cool.

You decide to take a new trail. It leads into a bit of a clearing, you can see a rock piling, some flowers, and a creek. It's pretty.

You take your journal out, a small, leatherbound thing (the inside cover is coated with stickers. Mabel, please) and begin to sketch it, a hobby you've picked up in the last months.

You're not the best, but you're not the worst, either. As you're finishing up, you spot a weird shift in the rocks.

Weird is normal here.

So you get up to go investigate, holding your journal at the ready, like a defensive position.

The statue does not move.

It looks like the illuminati symbol. Like the top of the pyramid on the back of a dollar bill. It's overgrown with moss, but you do not recognize it. It's hand is held out, like it's ready to shake yours.

Heh. That would be pretty funny.

If you shook the statue's hand.

It's what it wants. Shake it's hand. Shake the hand.

You draw the statue. It's a shoddy deal, but you actually enjoyed how it turned out. It looks cool.

The hand is outstretched.

You leave one of Mabel's stickers on the statue. It looks a little less intimidating that way.

Your shift starts in twenty minutes, so you tuck your journal in your jacket, and you're off to it.

Maybe you'll come back later. There's a bit more you want to do with the drawing.

Shake the hand.

You've gotta fix the angle on it. You wonder how the sculptor got it to be that way.

You clock in, and pull your journal out again, as Dipper walks through the doors, followed by Ford.

The younger twin asks what your journal is about. He's got a few of his own.

"Kind of random." You tell him. "I draw things I see on my walks, or write down recipes, or stuff like that. Dude, wait until I show you this statue I found in the woods. It'll fit right in with those notebooks you keep..."